Mending Fences, Making Alliances: Going Home

[Taylor Millard]

OOC: This takes place a year after the Saalarian Pirates thread

Admiral Taylor Millard sat in his study, despair running through his mind. He was the last preson left in his family now...his parents dead...and now...his brother too.

His thoughts ran to his brother's death, a long battle with the Grandmaster of the Templis Cult, Mayfar Jirroc.

Millard attacked Jirroc, his blue-red lightsaber clashing with the silver of the Grand Master's blade. Taylor moved his saber along the edge of Jirroc's, pushing him back. They clashed again, the Dark Jedi throwing a punch at the older man. It was countered, with a blow to the younger man's head.

"You will never survive, Known Creature!" Jirroc snarled, throwing Millard back. It was then his brother attacked.

Staring out of the window of the ISD, he looked at the stars thinking it should be him dead...not his brother.

Trent fought well, using all of what the Templis Cult had taught him to counter each and every sword stroke the Grand Master sent towards him. Jirroc sent an upper cut to Donovan's chin, knocking him to the stone floor. He swung his sword down, only to have it blocked again by the younger warrior.

"You have betrayed your people, Donovan!" Mayfar yelled, his grey eyes flashing, "I took you in personally!"

"If I were to allow you to beat my brother," Trent's blue eye's flashed like Millard, "I will be betraying my family. And I will not allow that!"

With a yell, Trent pressed forward from the ground a mailed fist smashing into Jirroc's jaw. As the Templis Cult member flew back, he still had the fortitude to block Millard's lightsaber attack. The three fighters' swords all clashed together in a brilliant flash of light.

Taylor picked his brother's sword up, running his hand over the fine steel of the blade. The hilt of the sword glowed with the jewel in it. Taylor had taken the sword from his brother's room even as the Templis Cult began landing troops on the surface to reclaim their territory. His thoughts came back to him as he circled the study.

Millard grabbed Jirroc with a Force grip, throwing him back towards the golden throne in the Templis Cult's stronghold. Jirroc collided with the throne, toppleing it, his body unseen.

"You all right?" The Black Hand member turned towards his brother.

"Yeah, I'm fine," The Former Templis Cult member looked anything but fine. His normally creme-colored skin was turning more of a white color. A large gash bled down on his face, giving his face an odd hue.

"TRAITORS!!" a voice echoed through the Grand Hall. Jirroc stood there, energy floating around his glowing body. Jirroc's eyes flashed white, lightning crackling from it. The two brothers charged the dying man, both swinging their swords.

Mayfar blocked two blows from Millard, one from Donovan; then took a swing at the both. The brothers ducked, then plunged their swords forward. Taylor struck high, Trent low. And Jirroc exploded.

The Force sent Millard and Donovan back away from the diasis, their bodies crashing into the floor. Using the Force, Taylor absorbed most of the impact. Trent...was unlucky, to say the least.

His body torn to shreds, Taylor's brother lay dying on the floor. Millard moved quickly to his brother's side, encompassing his hand in Trent's mailed one.

"Trent, stay with me man! Stay with me!" Taylor had seen death before, but never someone he loved.

"Bro-ther..." Trent's lips were cracked, his eyes almost closed, "We..were reunited for...only...a short...time."

"No, don't talk like that. You'll be fine. We just got to get you back to the Superior, the medical droids will help you there."

"It's too late for me...my brother," Trent's voice got fainter, "Honor our family...Remember...who you are. The last of the Millards...honor us...please!"

The memories faded from Taylor as he remembered his brother's final words. Woefully, he looked at the bookshelf full of Jedi texts...they couldn't save his brother...nothing could. Taylor picked up his lightsaber, feeling the cold black steel of the cylinder. He then set it back down on the mahogany desk.

My weapon doesn't deserve the honor of killing me. Only..my brothers. As he turned his brothers blade on his own body...

"Taylor..." the voice spoke, an etheral booming sound to it. Millard lifted his head, looking at the source...

"Father?"

The Glowing Man had a slight look of disdain on his face as he spoke, "Ending your own life, will not save your brothers. You are the last of the Millards. The last of us to carry the Force."

"DAMN YOUR FORCE!" Millard felt the rage fill his mind more than ever, "AND DAMN YOU! You betrayed your country and your Empire, by joining with the Rebels! I want nothing to do with you!"

"You cannot betray your destiny, my son," Kieron Millard said, "Your grandfather was gifted in the Force, I was gifted in the Force. As were you and your brother. Although your path has been not what I would have hoped."

"And what about your wife!" Millard screamed, "She wasn't gifted in the Force...and where is she?!? She's not with you is she?"

Kieron was silent...

"I didn't think so...father," Taylor made father sound like an insult, "Your Force cannot save her can it? Can it save anyone else I care about?"

"Not if you continue the path you're on-" His father started to say.

"GET OFF MY SHIP, OLD MAN!" Millard pulled his brother's sword from his desk. It slashed through the bookcase, shattering it. In rage, Millard grabbed the destroyed wooden frame, hurling it at his father...watching it pass through him, like air.

"Even you cannot escape the Force, Taylor" Kieron said, "You will either submit to it...or it will be your undoing."

"Get...off...my...ship!" Spite filled Taylor's words, "I never want to see you-or your spirit again...Ever."

The ghost of his father seemed to sigh, looking a bit disturbed. With a deep look on his face, Kieron Millard disappeared without a word.

"Honor our family...remember who you are" his brother's words filled his mind.

"I will," Taylor whispered, tears coming to his cold, blue eyes, "The best way possible."

He sat in a pile of Jedi texts, crying, as he mourned his brother. The doors to the study slid open silently as the occupant watched him mourn.

[Serena Laran]

Serena Laran stood there silently, just inside the door, as it slid closed behind her. Millard's back was to her, but he looked...broken. His shoulders shook with his silent sobs as his hands crumpled around the texts that littered the ground. She shifted her weight, clasping her hands behind her back, and the Admiral looked up as her boots scuffed the ground.

She cleared her throat, "The Superior has a course plotted to Known Space. I thought you'd like to know. That is...unless your plans have changed?" Serena walked forward, kneeling to the right of him, about three feet away. "Are you going to be all right?" Her voice was concerned, and her eyes reflected her sympathy.

Laran hadn't been there on the day his brother had been killed, and he had not offered any details on the subject. She had fought alongside him against the Templis Cult on one occasion, and knew how much he valued his family. During the year that they had known each other, while she served as liason from TGE to his forces in the Unknown Regions, they had been through a lot together. She no longer viewed him as simply a stubborn Admiral, but as a strong man...a leader...and even a friend. Yes, a friend. It was strange to think that about a superior officer. Laran followed orders, looked out for the people who were under her command, and generally stayed out of relationships. Like it or not, they were much closer than simply fellow officers.

She looked around the usually spotless study, taking in the ruins of the bookcase, now across the room, and the sword on the floor, just out of his reach. There was a spot of blood on the blade, and she could see that one of his palms was bleeding. Perhaps he was simply holding it incorrectly.

No, Millard was careful around weapons. For him to be that careless...Serena returned her attention to him, and then crept closer. Taylor sobbed still, too worked up to speak a word, and she simply put her arms around him, holding him close, and letting him cry.

[Taylor Millard]

Millard felt the slender, yet strong hands around his shoulders. Although he didn't sense her, Millard knew who it was.

"Admiral Laran," he spoke, sobs still filtering through his resolve, "There is no change of plans. We...*sniff...we will return to Known Space."

He considered the red haired woman a friend, something he hadn't done with many people in recent years. He had his own circle of friends: Captain Tomar, Jaranda Piett, and his bodyguard Thomas. But Laran was a good soldier, someone who he could trust...now.

Memories of her betrayal did filter into his mind though. How she'd neglected to inform him of her real rank of Rear Admiral. Although Millard suspected Darth Viscera had something to do with it. He'd thrown her in the brig on Bonhelious, his main base in the Unknown Regions...or what was left of it. But Serena had proven her worth, saving not only him...but Jaranda Piett as well.

He remembered when she first came to the Superior. Supposedly a Captain, here to convince him to rejoin the Galactic Empire. He's rejected her at first, keeping her on as a formality, but now...he wasn't sure why she was there. He liked her, but kept his thoughts silent.

Anger, muted yet still present, coursed through his veins. His blue eyes, rimmed with tears, focused on the icy green of Laran's. They connected briefly.

"Do we have contact with the rest of our forces?" he asked, a pained look on his face. Laran helped Millard to his feet, she slipped briefly on a book with Millard catching her.

"Careful Admiral. I've lost far too many friends recently," he said, not realizing he'd said it.

He sniffed again, then his eyes caught their familiar coldness, "Inform every Force user on this ship, that I want them off of here in 10 minutes."

He paused again, the anger flowing, "Or else I start sending squads of stormtroopers and they 'escort' them out. And if that doesn't work...I'll make sure they leave."

Sniffing again, he added, "And send these...books, to Seth Darkserpent on the planet VJun."

As well as this...he tossed her his lightsaber, along with the clone, Luuke Skywalker's, saber.

"I don't want to see these again."

[Live Wire]

Live Wire was preparing to leave the ship in the next 24 hours and head back to Corellia after making a few stops to make some aquisitions along the way when she was approached by an officer.

He demanded that she leave the ship immediately per the Admiral's orders. Astonished described her reaction completely.

"Why am I being asked to leave the ship?" she said demandingly. She was not used to being just summarilly dismissed in such a manner without a reason.

The officer resisted until she had him by the throat with his feet off the ground. "The admiral wants all force users off the ship." the man croaked.

She dropped him in surprise and didnt pay attention when he scurried off. Her first instinct was to hunt down Millard and demand an answer...but something made her decide that this wouldn't be the best course of action. Besides decimating a ship full of officers just wouldnt look good.

[Taylor Millard]

Taylor watched the flickering form of Live Wire's ship as it made its jump to hyperspace. Out of all the Sith Order's members, she would be the one he would miss most. Or a part of him was.

She did help me in battleing the Templis Cult, a part of his mind said. Another said, But she is a Force user. And the Force could not save your brother. Not you. Or anyone else.

The old anger and hurt returned. Anger at his father, for being a Jedi Knight. For betraying Emperor Palpatine when he rose to power. For joining the Rebellion. Millard was glad his father was dead.

Several officers walked into the study, one of which was Tomar. The four grabbed the Jedi Texts, placing them in an air tight container. The lightsabers were all ready in the container, Admiral Laran seeing to it personally.

As the officers left, Millard stopped Tomar.

"Sit, Captain," he said conversationally (or as much as he could). Unwilling to argue, Tomar picked one of the discarded chairs up, settling his wiry frame into it. He was still wounded, his left arm in a sling from a 'Tormentor' claw.

Tomar spoke first, "Taylor, are you going to be all right? You've spent a week mourning your brother. Now you issue the order for us to head towards Coruscant? Are you rejoining the Empire?"

The Imperial Admiral leaned back in his chair, "We are. If you wish. The Davidoff is heavily damaged and may not make it to Coruscant. Leatherneck survives as well and should reach port. Templar remains at Bonhelious, for now, and outside of us, the Dracule is the only healthy ISD we have.

"It would be wise for us to return now. The Force means nothing now, while it may be respected by many (as I do respect it). I have no liking of it. My brother..." Tears welled in his eyes again, and Millard almost broke down. Almost.

My Lord, Tomar thought, his face showing concern. He really is taking this hard. I feel bad for him. And I will stay with him. He's my commanding officer...and my friend. We've gone through a lot together.

"Your brother fought well, Taylor" The Captain spoke solemnly, "He would be honored by your decision. With Grand Admiral Thrawn back in command...I am certain he will help us. And provide you the proper mourning period."

Millard smiled a sad smile, "Thank you Tomar, you are a good friend. When given the opportunity, you will be rewarded...General."

Tomar's eyes widened, "General?"

"Yes. It has been deserved for a long time. Your service to the Empire has been exemplary to say the least. You have been an excellent student. The Superior is yours now. She is a good ship. Although, I would not stop you were you to come with me if I receive a new command.

"Come, General," Taylor felt proud to call his friend that, "Let us walk on the bridge. It is time we made our way back to Coruscant."

As the two entered the bridge, Millard took a seat in the Command Chair. Nodding towards General Tomar and, his bodyguard, Thomas, Millard addressed his forces.

"Today is the day we go back to the Empire. I am not one for grand speeches or lenthy monologues, but it is time for us to go home. You have served the Empire, and me, well. From waiting twenty years for the return of Grand Admiral Thrawn, to joining The Sith Order when we did return, to fighting the Templis Cult. You have fought well, and fought honorably.

"The time has come for us to return, back to our roots...and to our homes. Those who wish to stay or transfer to another command will be allowed. When we return, I will ask for three weeks furlough to all men who seek it. It is time, we see our families again."

Families... Tomar thought, Taylor doesn't have one. What's he going to do?

"General Tomar!" Millard announced, "Course setting, 110.001. Set course...for the Imperial Center."

"Aye sir! We will make the jump to hyperspace in 15 minutes sir."

Millard smiled, "Excellent. I will be in my quarters, General."

Taylor turned towards Serena, "Rear Admiral Laran. If you will accompany me enroute to my quarters. I wish to discuss something with you."

With that, Millard exitted the bridge, heading for rest and home.

[Taylor Millard]

Laran was quick to catch up with the exhausted admiral, as he walked down the corridor towards his quarters.

"You wished to speak with me sir?" she said, her green eyes staring at Millard. Taylor offered her a small smile, then his face went back to his usual seriousness.

"Yes, I do. When we reach Coruscant, I assume you will be reassigned to another ship. I would just like to inform you, it was an honor to serve with you.

"Though we clashed about various methods, and I did imprison you on Bonhelious. Your methods went well," Millard stopped just beyond the door to his quarters. Turning towards Laran, he gave her a quick smile.

"It would be an honor, if you were to stay here. But, that may not be something for you to decide."

Rear Admiral Laran did not let her expression show, "I think..." she said cautiously, "It would be wise to let the leaders of the Empire decide."

Admiral Millard nodded his consent, "Yes, it will be up to them. Good luck, Admiral Laran, where ever you end up."

Leaning forward, Taylor took Serena's hand in his. Bending his face down, he kissed her hand softly. Then, nodding, he made his exit to sleep.

[Serena Laran]

Laran walked away from the Admiral, rubbing her hand as she traversed the hallways towards her own quarters. She had no ship to command on this return trip, and wherever she went she would just be in the way. It was a good thing Millard did...promoting Tomar.

She had worked closely with the Captian over the past year, much to Jaranda's dislike, and had grown to respect the man. He deserved the promotion, if anyone did. Serena reached her door, and keyed in to open it.

Stepping inside, she sat at her encrypted computer terminal, and began rearranging her files on Millard for a final presentation to TGE upon completion of assignment. Reading through some of her first reports, she found herself smiling. He was still the same stubborn Admiral that he had been then...or was he? Without the Force, which she didn't much care for anyway, he was different. Laran got up and prepared a cup of coffee to warm her hands as she worked.

Sitting back at her desk, Serena began to prepare her final report.

[Taylor Millard]

Six Hours Later

Millard stood on the bridge of the Superior, a smile on his face. The Imperial Star Destroyer was about to come out of hyperspace at Coruscant. Taylor felt a bit refreshed, with six hours sleep under his belt. He was a bit nervous, but expected his meeting with the Galactic Empire to go well.

He straightened his brown uniform tunic, then made sure his hat was in place. All his pins were in place, and his hands were gloved.

"Coming out of hyperspace in 3...2...and 1, we're out," General Tomar stated as the Superior came to Coruscant for the first time in over 21 years.

Millard stepped forward. Although he had been unable to speak with Tasha Kazkis, of Clan Vitiku, he had left a message for her before coming to the bridge. It read, We are headed towards Coruscant. I will meet with you at 1130 hours in my study. We need talk of agreement yeh?

This is it he thought.

"To all Imperial Forces," he spoke clearly and confidently, "This is Admiral Taylor Millard from the Unknown Regions. I wish to speak with you. It is time I rejoined your hallowed ranks. I bring with me four other ships, with one left guarding our base. It is time, I came home.

"You may speak with Grand Admiral Thrawn about my authenticy as an Admiral. I will await here, shields down and weapons uncharged for your response. Thank you."

Millard stared at the viewscreen and waited.

[Khendon Sevon]

The Fabius sat perched in orbit around Coruscant, the star of the Empire. Khendon considered Millard’s words for a moment, slowly stroking his goatee. “Fighter command, launch a squadron and send them to scan the craft,” said Khendon, finally coming to a decision. “Comm., open channel with the newly arrived fleet.”

“Sir, the comm. is yours,” said a young officer, smiling slightly as he did so.

“Millard,” said Khendon slowly, “I have dispatched a squadron to scan your ships, once this process has been completed, I will escort you planet side were we may discuss what you have suggested further.”

[Taylor Millard]

"Very well. Millard out," Taylor answered Moff Sevon as he leaned back in his command chair. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes then opened them. He rose from his chair, taking a look around the bridge.

"Admiral Laran, with me. Commander Jyyt, prepare an escort for us."

"Aye sir," the Flight Commander replied.

"Thomas, with me as well. General Tomar, have 2 squads of stormtroopers meet me in the hangar bay. It'll be a two shuttle convoy. Put one squad in one shuttle, and another with me."

Taylor with Laran and Thomas strode from the grey bridge to the white and black shuttle bay. The trio walked into the dark shuttle, with Millard taking the helm. He eased the shuttle of the Hangar Bay, sending it towards the planet Coruscant.

Six TIE Advanced met the two departing shuttles, escorting them. Twelve more TIE Fighter varients (Millard assumed they were TIE Devils) joined the Eight craft, giving an escort of Eighteen craft.

I'm not sure what I'm going to say, Millard thought as he flew in silence, I suppose they will wonder why I did not return 21 years ago. It was simple, I had to explore something I possessed, then discovered I didn't want it. That will suffice, I believe.

By now the shuttles had reached the atmosphere of the planet.

"Shuttle AA-234. Go to Landing Pad 3827B. You will be met there." the TIE Devil Commander said over the radio.

"Understood," Millard said directing the shuttle towards the Landing Pad.

The shuttle lowered on the pad, a clear black sky above it. Stars, barely visable through the lights of the Imperial Center, shone above the city like blinking glowrods. A small delegation waited for the returning Admiral as the ships landed.

The two squads of stormtroopers walked out of their respective shuttles, forming a two blocks of soldiers as the trio exitted the shuttle. It was an impressive display for Four Imperial Star Destroyers, two heavily damaged.

Millard awaited the delegation of TGE members as they walked towards him from their waiting area. He stood at the end of the stormtrooper ranks, hoping the meeting went as well as he hoped.

[Grand Admiral Thrawn]

The Grand Admiral was among the delegates that were waiting for Admiral Millard's arrival atop the landing pad. Thrawn had anticipated this day would come, when his pupil would rejoin the glorious military navy, and he had waited patiently for it. The other Imperial officers were quite anxious to hear Admiral Millard's explanation of his lack of service. Thrawn did not think any would be opposed to his re-joining the Imperial navy. After all, he had been a pupil of Thrawn's and the Imperials were well aware that Thrawn did not just teach anyone.

Taylor Millard was gifted not only in the Force, but in the mind. He was a brilliant tactician, and these Jedi powers he had acquired would do more good then harm. He would be able to sniff out traitors, and predict enemies. That was if Taylor decided to use the Force for the Imperial militia. It had occured to the Grand Admiral that Taylor might have abandoned his dark teachings to return to the Galactic Empire.

The Stormtroopers stood proudly in their white armor. Each formed a straight line, and behind them another squad formed another straight line. This was an order that the Rebels could never hope to obtain, for they were sloppy. Order was needed in the Galaxy, as Thrawn had observed many times. The Grand Admiral himself looked quite organized in his freshly ironed suit. Despite his blue skin and red eyes, the Admiral was an example of an "Imperial poster boy". Imperial officers were xenophobics, but those in close relation with Thrawn mastered their xenophobia.

This scene reminded Thrawn of his own mysterious return to the Empire. He had appeared out of space on an unmarked ship, and met up with Zorin Hexes. The Director of Galactic Intelligence conferred with Thrawn in private. Only the most high ranked knew what had happened to Thrawn during his abscense. He was not one to reveal any of his own secrets, only to those he trusted. As if correcting his past mistake, Thrawn barely trusted anyone these days. Humans were full of greed and jealousy, each wanting to obtain total power. One could easily try to kill him, as his "loyal" bodyguard had tried, all those years ago.

Now you are more aware, do not let your guard down. Thrawn creased the smile on his face back into an expressionless stare. He placed both hands at the small of his back, and began to pace forward. Millard was just exiting his shuttle as Thrawn walked forward. The aging man was dressed in his Imperial admiral uniform, and wore the rank proudly above his left breast. Thrawn now assumed the smile that had been on his face before. He slowed his quick walk down to a stroll, passing the Stormtroopers. Some even turned their heads to get a quick look of the Grand Admiral, but quickly snapped back to attention. If a Stormtrooper were to do something stupid in the middle of a ceremony, the troop would face serious consequences. Everything was supposed to be proper and by the book.

Thrawn stepped forward, now only a few feet from the approaching Admiral. He nodded to Taylor, glad to see him again, and in good health.

"Admiral Millard, it has been much too long." Thrawn removed one of his hands from his back and extended it forward.

"Welcome...To Coruscant."

[Taylor Millard]

Before Millard took Grand Admiral Thrawn's hand, he saluted the delegation in the traditional Imperial salute. Then he took the blue-skinned alien's hand, giving it a quick and sharp shake.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn," he said a broad smile coming to his face, "It is good to see you again, sir. It has been far too long. I am glad to be back. I trust we can move to some place more private where we can discuss my return to the Galactic Empire?"

He nodded towards the rest of the delegates. All were higher ranking officials in the Empire. He would be more than happy to return to the Empire.

I do hope, they don't mind I do not use the Force anymore. I have my mind which is better than the Force.

"Lead the way, Grand Admiral."

[Grand Admiral Thrawn]

Thrawn turned around and slightly sidestepped, allowing Taylor to step beside the Grand Admiral. His blue hand retracted once again, and assumed the position at the small of his back. As he did this, the squads of Stormtroopers moved to form into a straight line. Silently, the warriors clad in white moved toward the ship, and began to board it again. They had left as quietly as they had arrived, making slight tapping sounds with their duraplast covered boots.

Thrawn allowed the Admiral some time to meet and familiarize himself with the Imperial delegates that had abandoned their duties for his arrival. There were not many, but enough to keep Taylor busy for a few minutes. Thrawn waited patiently, allowing himself a small conversation between Diplomat Eska Frats and Admiral Lek. Both were inquiring of Taylor's past. Eska was curious as to how Taylor had become an Admiral in the past. Lek, having heard of Millard's involvement in the destruction of Admiral Zakan's rogue forces and him saving Palpatine's life was asking about his future in the Navy.

A few minutes later, Thrawn was directing Millard into a building and through a series of turns and turbolifts. It took them three more minutes to arrive in front of the Grand Admiral's "room". After keying open the door, the supposed room looked could be better described as a small house. Along each wall leading to a double set of staircases, sculptures and historic antiques stood atop many podiums. The handles to the staircase railings were wooden, and etched with writing that only few would understand. In every possible bit of space hung a work of art, each more alien then the next. Lastly, on the second floor, thousands of books were shelved and most likely catalogued.

It was a known fact that Grand Admiral Thrawn had a penchant for art and antiquities. Although none were visible, one could probably infer that the Grand Admiral owned a lot of holodramas. Thrawn turned back and smiled at Millard who did not seem surprised. Thrawn's smile quickly creased back into a thin line that represented his expressionless face.

"Director of Intelligence Hexes thought it would be good therapy for me to feel more at home for myself. Most of what you see before you came out of his credit account." Thrawn stepped forward, now standing in front of Millard. He walked over to a painting that depicted a female Barabel. In the background the artist had highlighted the jungle that surrounded her, almost entrapping her. Yet, the expression on her face was enough to convince one that she was truly happy.

"It has been quite a while since we have last seen each other. A year...I believe? I trust you dealt with that Pirate threat, or else you would not be here today." Thrawn asked, keeping both red eyes fixed on the painting before him. "It does not take a Jedi to read the mind of an eager human. I imagine there would be many questions you would like to ask me?"

Thrawn knew that one of those questions, if not the only question, would be of his mysterious return. The Grand Admiral trusted Taylor Millard, but having barely been in contact with him for the past twenty years made Thrawn wonder if anything had corrupted the Admiral. He truly believed that was not the case, but how could one be sure? Thrawn did not think his early demise would be at the hands of his own wretched bodyguard. Taylor Millard was not one to be corrupted.

"You may ask me anything you like, Admiral Millard." Thrawn turned around and pressed a button on the chronograph fastened to his wrist. In mere moments, a service droid would arrive with a bottle of Whyren's Reserve. Thrawn walked back to his own comfortable seat, by his desk. He offered the one directly across from his desk to Taylor, who accepted. Thrawn folded his arms and waited for Taylor to voice his questioning thoughts.

[Taylor Millard]

"Admiral Thrawn," Taylor leaned back in his chair. For some odd reason his back was beginning to bother him more and more. Have to get the med droids to take a look at 'em.

"Your return to the Universe from death is something we do need to discuss," Millard spoke clearly, a hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He remembered a little of Thrawn's return. When he'd run into the Grand Admiral before destroying the Saalarian Pirates, a vision of a blue skinned creature in a fluid filled cylinder.

"When you appeared above Corellia, requesting permission to meet; I received a vision of some sort. Of a blue-skinned creature resting in some sort of container," the returning Imperial Admiral's blue eyes narrowed.

"The creature had red eyes."

Taylor sighed, as the server droid entered with two full glasses of Whyren's Reserve. The brown-haired man took a glass, feeling the tart liquid on his lips as he swallowed. It filtered through his body into his bone structures like the water flowing from the Polar Ice caps through pipes to the Imperial Center. Millard shook his head, then spoke again.

"If, as I assume it was, you. Then you are a clone, a copy of the Grand Admiral Thrawn I knew. However, sir (he said with the respect he always showed Thrawn). You are here, which means your resurrection was either by the Empire, or a plan you had to protect yourself in case of your demise.

"If the Galactic Empire has not forced your resignation, or attempted an assasination of you; then I can only assume you are here of your own will. Although I do not have exact information on when you returned; my information does tell me you returned only a few months before you came to see me. This is another reason why I will give you my full support and trust. You came to me soon after your return, therefor you must have some rememberence of me."

Millard had hypothesized all sorts of theories with his 'Inner Council' about Thrawn's return. The main consensus, believed he was a clone created to lead the Empire to glory again. Or a far more glorious glory.

Taylor changed the subject, coming out of deep thought, "You are correct, the Saalarian Pirates have been destroyed. They will no longer be a problem to the Empire.

"Zakan was indeed alive, but he has been destroyed by my...a... I destroyed him personally."

Millard's blue eyes locked with Thrawn's glowing red ones. For once, he wasn't disconcerted with those red orbs. Taylor took a bigger sip of his glass, enjoying the flavor of the alcohol.

"What are my orders to be Admiral? I no longer use the Force to help me in my decisions, I have no reason to. It failed me too many times. I will rely on myself to make the decision needed to make for my men to be the best of the Empire.

"I have kept their training up to the standards set by you when you commanded the Superior. Even the Sith Order cadets given to us are years ahead of what they were originally trained for. Ed Stark and Yuri Jyyt are flight commanders now, excellent men. And Tomar..." Taylor smiled at this, "Is now a General, promoted three days ago."

"The records are all here," Millard set several datapads on the Grand Admiral's desk, "If you have any more questions, let me know."

The former student of Thrawn stretched his back again, taking in the familiar surroundings of the Grand Admiral's room, "It is to see you in familiar surroundings. I am glad you have found your place in the Empire. As I hope to again.

"What are your orders sir? I was hoping to allow my men time to get used to the Known Regions again, officially, and repair my ships. Do you have anything you wish me to do sir?"

He waited Thrawn's answer, drinking from his glass again.

[Wolfgang Schreiger]

Millard...

He hadn't known the man, and this incongruency annoyed the Grand Moff. More annoying that he formerly served the Sith Order, allies yes, but at a considerable distance. He could smile and wear a uniform like the rest...but did he carry the true Imperialist ideal?

Schreiger gulped down a flute of cognac, brushing his thinning grey hair to the side with a gloved hand. His two "assistants" (lovely pair of ladies he'd seen fit for "promotion" from their tedium at the academy) flanked him at each side. He'd advised evening gowns for the welcoming occasion, revealing their lithe forms tastefully, but enough to suit his fancy. Schreiger glanced into his crystal flute, at the dregs of his cognac.

Such a plebian concoction. Surely the caterer can produce a finer year.

The Grand Moff off-handedly passed his empty glass to an assistant, who returned it to a server's tray. He gestured to Millard.

I want this man's dossier. Head to toe. Have it on my desk tomorrow morning at 0900.

Detatching himself from his assistants, Schreiger straightened his gaudy formal uniform, and the clattering array of flashy medals and accolades. As he approached Thrawn and the prodigal Millard, he scouted for a Maitre'd, and a better year of cognac to pareuse.

[Grand Admiral Thrawn]

"You have discounted your studies of the Force?" Thrawn seemed unsurprised by this statement, yet it had not been expected to be revealed so quickly. He narrowed his eyes and slanted his body inward to clasp a glass of Whyren's Reserve that the droid had poured for him. Thrawn took it back, but did not drink it straight away. He casually held it in his hand as did most noble dignitaries did when they conversed with acquaintances and friends alike.

At the cusp of the Whyren's Reserve, a small olive from the Gardens of the Ottega System was place carefully. It added small potent drops to the strong Corellian drink to spice up the flavor, slightly. Slowly, as if choosing the correct words he spoke, "I considered that a slight possibility, although I could not have been sure. Although it is not much of a loss."

In that same statement, Thrawn was referring to Taylor's victory over the Salaarian Pirates. According to Taylor, and what Intelligence agents had relayed to Thrawn, the Imperial Admiral had destroyed the Salaarian pirates. "I applaud your exemplary efforts, Admiral Millard. I would expect nothing less of you." He smiled slightly at his pupil, allowing himself a small sip of the potent substance. Sounds from outside barely emerged through the durasteel door plates. Taylor's arrival had invoked enough attention to form a gathering of sorts.

"As for my disappearance." Thrawn raised his head, and leveled his red eyes with Taylor Millard. "It is true that Grand Admiral Thrawn experienced his death aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera."

Taylor did not look surprised, as was expected.

"I am as you have so ingeniously inferred. A copy, who's soul purpose is to fulfill Thrawn's place, and relay important intelligence reports back to the homeland that turned me away." He allowed a few seconds to pass. "What you did not know, and what very few know, is that it was the Chiss who cloned me. They tried to infect me with their will, so that I may be a valuable spy for them. It did not take me long to learn this, yet I did not feel anger toward them."

He put the glass down on the desk, and slowly stood up. Thrawn rounded the desk and picked up a small pot, near the staircase. He examined it while continuing his explanation speech.

"I felt confusion at first. Then I remembered what Thrawn's original goal was, that he had failed to complete. It was the answer to all enigmas, crushing the Rebellion. At that point I felt that my life had some sort of purpose, a purpose that would ease the chaos brewing within my mind. It was then that I came to my senses, and remembered you. But these memories are not my own. It would be easy to call myself Grand Admiral Thrawn among the Barons and Diplomats of the Empire. I suppose in time, I will begin to refer to myself as Thrawn in the company of those who know the truth....In time."

His speech was cut short by the untimely arrival of Interim Diktat Wolfgang Schreiger. The militia man was older then Taylor, and seemed to be nearing what was referred to as "old age". He was accompanied by two human females that were impeccably dressed. Only the best for Schreiger, Thrawn thought to himself, rather dryly. He quickly put the pot down and make his way over to the doorway.

"Diktat Schreiger, I did not expect to see you here tonight. This is a pleasant surprise." He smiled cautiously, eyeing the woman on the right. His smile was directed more at her, then the Diktat. Thrawn offered a quick salute to the Diktat, and then nodded. He sidestepped and stretched his hand, directing the Diktat into his spacious quarters. "I suppose you have not had the pleasure of meeting my one-time pupil, Admiral Taylor Millard of Balmorra."

Thrawn couldn't help but wonder what the Diktat would have to say about Taylor. Soon enough, when the Admiral displayed his value and knowledge, Schreiger would take a liking to him. Schreiger reminded one of Grand Moff Tarkin. Certainly not in appearance, but in attitude. His Imperial Patriotism held no bounds, and had proved his value as a leader in Darth Viscera's absense. Thrawn bowed his head momentarily and stepped back, allowing Taylor to acquaint himself with the Interim Diktat.

[Taylor Millard]

Millard saluted the Grand Moff with as much respect as he offered any Imperial Leader. Recognized the uniform as one of a Grand Moff. A highly decorated Grand Moff, he thought viewing the adorments on the man's chest. He was older than Taylor, his hair greying faster than that of the returning Imperial Admiral. A heavy-set smirk adorned the head Imperial's face.

This man... Taylor's thoughts said, Reeks with ego. But, for someone with so much ego, I do believe he is loyal to the Imperial Cause. Good.

Millard spoke clearly, remembering the leader's name, "Grand Moff Schrieger, a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Taylor motioned for a serving droid, "A glass of 60-year old Hapes Congac please, Remi Martyyn. For the Grand Moff. Hopefully, this will please you sir.

"I have a copy of my Imperial file, dating all the way to my first assignment with Thrawn to my years in the Unknown Regions. If you wish to double check with the records here on Coruscant, feel free to. Although not all the information is there, it should suit what you need. I hope.

"I suppose you will want to know why I have returned now, and not when I first returned from the Unknown Regions.I decided to advance my own learning for a bit; deciding to use my developing Force talents for the betterment of myself and my crew. I did make sure to keep my ties with the Galactic Military Alliance, as it was called when I originally returned, requesting a liason between the forces assigned to me and yours. Rear Admiral Serena Laran can attest to allowing her information she needed and treating her with respect of any other Imperial Officer.

"My forces also never joined the Sith Order. Only the Superior ever made it to Known Space, and even then none of the forces assigned to me ever went to Corellia. There are several hundred cadets on the Superior assigned by the Sith Order. I believe, one of the Emperor's Force Detectors will discover if any of them are moles. This will go for any of my officers, and myself.

"Is there anything else you wish to know sir? I believe your drink has arrived too, sir."

He saluted again, then waited a reply, from the Imperial Interim Ditkat

[Serena Laran]

Serena formally greeted the brass that had shined itself up and trotted out to meet the Admiral from the Unknown Regions, but before she could go and talk to Millard, she was trapped into a conversation with Admiral Lek. He let her know where to file her reports, congratulated her on her "acheivement for the Empire," and generally made a nuisance of himself.

Grand Admiral Thrawn escorted Millard away, and Laran listened to Lek for as long as she could stand it. She nodded respectfully to him, and inserted: "I will be filing my request for a transfer into your battle group in the morning, Admiral. Your tactics fascinate me, and I would love a chance to study them closer." Of course, she hadn't been so cut off from the outside world that she didn't know that he had been put on extended shore leave because of an inflamation of an old hoverball injury.

Lek smiled at the compliment, and then frowned. "I'm flattered, of course Admiral Laran, but I'm afraid that I'm out of commision for a while. The medical treatments for my knee," he indicated the small brace around his left leg, "make it hard for me to carry out duties on board ship for the next few months." He had had an entire reconstruction of the knee as a young cadet, but the pieces used were almost as old as he was, and they were giving out. Standing and sitting were ordeals for him, and Serena nodded in pretended sympathy.

"Perhaps then I shall be assigned to another group. Admiral." She saluted, and he returned the gesture, "It was an honor to speak with you." He nodded, and she spun on her heel and walked to the nearest turbolift, trusting that her belongings (all neatly packed in her former quarters on the Superior) would make it to her newly assigned room on the surface.

Laran held a single datapad, with her final report enclosed. She would place it as near to the Interim Diktat's hands as she could, and find her rooms. Exiting the turbolift on the Diktat's office floor, she walked down a long hall towards the office.

[Zorin Hexes]

Zorin glanced down at a datapad, reviewing the intelligence reports for inconsistencies. The corridor was well lit, but for some reason the words seemed to blur in and out of focus. He hadn't slept in a few days. The Empire was in a perpetual state of war. He had no idea that so much sleep would be comprised through the acceptance of this new position... but now it was far too late into the game to pull back. He would serve the Empire until death, if need be.

Laran! He stopped in his tracks as he came across her. She was walking from the opposite direction, and they had nearly collided together. "Rear Admiral Laran... Looks like you've been doing well for yourself." Hexes smiled as he gazed at the new rank upon her uniform. "Who did you have to kill for that?" His smile changed to a smirk, his free hand running through his medium-length blonde hair.

[Serena Laran]

She saluted to Hexes, surprised to find her previous commander in the halls. "I killed quite a few people, sir. Indirectly, of course." Laran noticed his datapad, and indicated hers. "I was just filing a report with the Diktat."