STAR WARS: RETROSPECTION- Brothers

Imperial Palace, Coruscant

The shuttle roars out of hyperspace, just short of the gravity well of the city world below. It descends rapidly, into the synthesized rainstorms currently assaulting the tallest towers of Coruscant. Lightning crackles, striking the highest spires.

The scarred old man grins from beneath his hood.

Even in the most dire of storms, Coruscant’s buildings still twinkle brightly as if every window were made of jewels. Light and activity are everywhere...except the Imperial Palace. The pyramidal, jagged structure is a blight, coated with the finest of black holes for paint. All happiness dies here.

The shuttle makes for this horrible Palace, setting down easily on the landing pad there. It is awaited by the bent old man, hidden beneath his shadowed robes, flanked by the sanguine cadre of the Royal Guard. The shuttle opens, steam boiling forth from its maw as Grand Moff Tarkin, garbed in a heavy overcoat, steps out into the rain.

“Your Excellency,” Tarkin says, dropping to a knee before the Almighty Emperor.

“Rise, friend,” Palpatine replies, gesturing for his statement to be obeyed. Tarkin does so. “Walk with me.”

“Our progress with the Project is underway again,” Tarkin reports, walking alongside the Emperor as they move down the landing pad. “The slave rebellion on Geonosis was quelled with no difficulty; it only caused delay.”

“Goo-oo-ood,” Palpatine croaks. “The insignificant insects do not understand where their allegiance should and will lie.”

“I do my best, your Highness,” Tarkin replies, “but those idiotic bugs refuse to accept our dominance! They still think they’re resisting the rusted chains of the Galactic Republic, not the golden ways of the Empire. And I must oversee the Project over anything else. I cannot be everywhere at once.”

Palpatine cackles under his breath.

Tarkin, worried by the silence, keeps talking. “What of Lord Vader? Could he not instill fear in the pests?”

“Lord Vader lacks the finesse required on Geonosis,” Palpatine curtly refutes the suggestion. “I have developed an alternative to this irksome situation. Politics will no longer trouble my designs, in regards to the Project...and the rebellious worlds...”

“What did you have in mind, my Emperor?”

Palpatine grins again, turning his yellowed eyes on the Grand Moff. Tarkin almost looks away. Almost.

“I need personnel who represent my power more personally, Tarkin, than the regional governors. I will initiate the Commissariat, and they will deal with your political pestilences. Find young men, eager to prove their worth to me...and find them soon.”

“It will be done, Emperor.”

-

Welcome to “Brothers,” an episode of the new Retrospection games! As an episode of this series, “Brothers” will be a very personal plotline, exploring events involving the player’s character. Going off of Ushgarak’s ever-popular Star Wars role-playing game, these mini-episodes occur in game-play’s past. In this case, it will specifically explore the rise of the political terror known as Melkor Esgabath.

Second-born son of the Castellan of Erengard, Melkor never lived up to his father’s expectations. Instead, the Castellan invested all his wisdom and prowess in his first son, the terrible Einar Esgabath. Unlike the militaristic and violent Einar, Melkor developed under the loving care of his pacifistic mother, a noblewoman of Alderaan. He became the brains of the two sons, while Einar became the brawn. Seeing no bright future for her son on the beautiful but harsh world of Erengard, the Castellan’s wife sent Melkor away to the Imperial Academy on Coruscant, to immerse himself in the newly formed Galactic Empire. From there, he became a member of the Emperor’s terrifying Commissariat, sowing seeds of fear wherever politics existed. But how did he go from a neglected son to a charismatic disruptor of dissent?

The time period is set in 16 BBY- just three years after the formation of the Galactic Empire and the events of The Revenge of the Sith. Melkor is a young student, eager to study the politics of the new Empire and prove his worth by joining some important office, such as the Moffs. However, despite being away from home, he cannot escape his familial problems. All is not well back on Erengard and Einar is on the path to the throne. Melkor won’t stand for that...and neither will the Grand Moff.

Remember, have fun!

Imperial Academy, Coruscant

The bells trill a deafening note to alert students that classes will be in session shortly.

The Imperial Academy, formerly a university of Coruscant, has been reopened after reformations to fit the Emperor's specifications. It is no longer a glistening jewel with oval shape, but a pyramid of jagged outline, like the Palace itself. Here, the brightest minds of the Empire's youth may be filled with political jargon and the countless ways that citizens can serve their Emperor.

Melkor, this is your first day of attendance at the actual campus, but you have been enrolled in the Imperial Academy for nearly a year. The influence of your mother and your superior intellect has gained you quite a great deal of attention from the professors, though you have not met any of them. Yet.

You are on the steps of the Academy's pyramidal structure, class schedule in hand. First class begins shortly!

Melkor looks at the list last one time, before he firmly starts to ascend the steps. He hesitates slightly just before entering the pyramidical structure, wondering what this new episode in his life will bring. But that moment quickly passes, and he heads for his class, his posture upright and dignified.

First class- Modern Politics! Taught by the esteemed Professor Ichthal, a Coruscanti native and notable supporter of the magnificent Emperor.

The lecture halls are vast, designed to accomodate hundreds for lessons by great minds and teachers. The walls are blood red, while the seating and carpets are done in a dark gray.

Professor Ichthal stands upon a podium, raised up from the rest of the stadium-style seating. Hundreds of students are pouring into the class, some bumping into you.

Melkor scowls as one of the students almost trips over him but he decides that he doesn`t have time to waste with such ill-mannered lot.

He chooses to take a seat in the first row, just in front of the Professor. It is best to be noticed as early as possible.

Each individual seat has sensors that check your genetic material, so as to take roll for attendance (rather than the professor rattling off a list of a thousand names). The moment you sit, there is a warm sensation.

"Melkor Esgabath, present," chimes the datapad that lowers in front of you. "Welcome."

"Esgabath?" Professor Ichthal says, looking up. "Did I hear an Esgabath in attendance?"

"Indeed, Professor." -Melkor stands and bows. -"I am the son of Castellan Moireen of Erengard."

Ichthal smiles.

"I taught your father once," Ichthal says, "after his time on Cassilis, when he came to the University of Coruscant. Great man. Glad to make your acquaintance...Melkor, was it?"

"Indeed, I am the second son."- Mellkor nods. -"I will do my best not to disappoint, Professor."- Corner of his lips twitches in a tiny smile.

Ichthal gives you a nod, then returns to his work at the podium.

Another bell rings, signifying that class has begun. Once Ichthal seems ready to speak, the class falls absolutely silent.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Ichthal begins, "welcome to your first day on the new campus of the Imperial Academy. I would thank you all for the patience you have had while the Emperor's funding has redesigned and improved the school facilities, but not all of you were here. Welcome, then, to new students."

Melkor, you heard this speech last year, from different teachers.

"I feel that you will be pleased with the new designs of the school. The Imperial Academy, built on the foundations of the University of Coruscant, will be able to house thousands of additional students, giving us more eager minds to nurture and develop.

"By taking this class, you have expressed great interest in the politics of the Galactic Empire. You will examine, in depth, various systems within the new government- the Imperial Senate, the regional governors, and the Emperor's influence on these and other aspects of the political field.

"Let's begin. Bring up the Introduction on your datapads..."

And so class begins.

Melkor nods at the speech. He likes the new design, properly magnificent and emphasizing the role of this place, academy for the future elite of the Empire.

He studies his datapad, absorbing the knowledge, eager to perform well. Of course, the matters of goverment and politics were always of particular interest to him.

Ichthal speaks for an hour or more, merely introducing the concept of the Galactic Empire, an Empire spanning all of civilized space and maintaining peace through the regional governors and the Navy, and so on and so on.

You're one of the few that does not nod off every now and then.

But then, Ichthal ends his lesson early. A man with thinning, grayed hair and well-defined cheek bones in the uniform of a Moff stands by the door.

"In order to introduce you to the new school and what current events are, we have a guest speaker," Ichthal announces. "I welcome Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin to the podium."

Students applaud as Tarkin leaves the entrance and takes his place behind the podium.

Esgabath applauds as well, looking with great interest at the man that has contributed to creation of the Galactic Empire as much as any but the Emperor himself. There is aura of power and authority surrounding him that dwarfs even the Professor. Still, it is surprising that someone with so many responsibilities found time for mere students.

Tarkin gives a polite wave to the audience.

"Thank you, students," Tarkin begins. His manner of speech is highly refined and elevated.

"As you know, the Emperor has funded for the redesign and improvement of this Academy. I myself participated in the designs, and I am quite pleased to say that I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of its construction.

"Here in these halls you will learn the greatness of the Emperor's vision, the glory of the Galactic Empire, and experience a bountiful age of peace and prosperity. The finest professors and equipment are at your disposal. Make use of them, and you will go far. Very far, indeed. Who here aspires to hold some political office in the future?"

Melkor`s thoughts race in a short moment that seems to last hours. If he miscalculates, it could mean the end for his ambitions. But perhaps it was time to grasp his destiny, as his mother seen he has. He can show his worth to them all, even his brother.

He stands firmly. "I do, Grand Moff."

Tarkin's eyes fall directly on you. Everyone else simply raised their hands, but standing and speaking gets you noticed.

"And you are?" Tarkin asks, amused.

Melkor hopes that he just didn`t make an idiot of himself. Still, he got the attention.

"Melkor of House Esgabath, second year student."- He speaks. If it wasn`t for a years of training to keep composure in such situations, he could well be trembling.

"Esgabath..." Tarkin muses, placing a finger to his mouth. "Son of the Castellan of Erengard?"

"Indeed, second son." -He nods. Not that it was usual for one of the Boyar to seek position of power outside Tasker`s Crown, but it would be rather impossible in case of the heir.

"Ah, second son," Tarkin says. "I take it that you do not seek the title of Castellan, then, young Melkor. You seek an office in the Empire."