New Year, New Love, Same Old Imperials by Jedi Gepper
The Imperial calendar rolled over into another new year. Rewards beyond survival itself were rare in the ranks of the Imperial officers. However, every so often, there was a benefit. This was one of those occasions.

Several of the fleet's Star Destroyers hung in orbit over the bright and bustling capital planet of Coruscant, the Imperial homeworld. The Emperor had approved, in a shocking turn of magnanimity, a leave of a few days for the officers and crew of these particular warships.

Among the ships in orbit were the Avenger, commanded by the young and tentative Captain Needa, and the Executor, commanded by the dark and menacing Sith Lord Darth Vader. Vader felt no particular desire for leave, having given up the days of carefree fun some time around when he became mostly a prosthetic monstrosity. Apparently, having numerous mechanical parts cut into one's desire to party. Vader allowed, however, that some of his officers could debark to the planet's surface for the recreation that was now so alien to him.



When he arrived on the surface, Captain Needa was dazzled, as usual, by the sheer size of the city-planet's landscape: the lights, the noise, the volume of human, alien, and other traffic. Everything was just so…big. He gazed in awe at the enormous statue of the Emperor. He was not sure which he found more intimidating: this version in stone or the real thing. Either, he was sure, could crush him.

Needa made his way through the city, gazing into shop windows and wondering if there was anything worth buying. Then he remembered that he had barely any credits on him. Depressed at this realization, he brightened in front of, of all things, a flower shop.

"Such a place can't help but cheer me," he said aloud. When those walking by glanced at his declaration, Needa made his way all the more quickly into the store.

The sensor over the door dinged pleasantly once he was in the door. The place was so bright and colorful and so very…quiet. It was quiet that he liked the most. This city was just too much to handle for him.

He inhaled the fragrances of all the exotic plants and flowers. He had never seen most of these varieties, seeing little of anything alive aboard a Star Destroyer, period.

He found that he could completely immerse himself in this shop until… Needa glanced towards the back when the shop's employee was trimming the leaves of one very delicate looking purple bloom. No, she was not simply an employee, Needa decided. She was a goddess! Her long dark hair hung in large curls. Her eyes were…well, they were perfect. That was all he knew. She had a lovely figure too. When she flicked her eyes at the lovestruck captain for but a moment and smiled a hello, Needa was down for the count.

Now, Captain Needa was a hopeless romantic. There was no doubt of that. However, sadly for poor Lorth, he was extremely awkward, some would say horribly, embarrassingly awful, around women. In this case, though, it would not stop him from trying.

"Um, excuse me, m'am, what type of flower is that?"

A bemused look briefly passed over the woman's face. "It's an Alderaanian Mountain Violet."

"It's very beautiful," Needa volunteered.

"They were more beautiful on Alderaan," she responded shortly. Needa was not so obtuse as to miss the implication that maybe Alderaan would have been a nice planet to still have around.

"Uh, well, yes, of course," he stammered. If at first you do not succeed…

"Well, what is that flower over in the corner, the orange one with the green stripes?"

The woman paused, slowly cocked her head at Needa and asked, "Sir, do you intend to buy something, or are you just the curious type?"

The captain of a warship commanding thousands found himself entirely caught off guard by this rather simple question. He forged ahead, however, seeing a glimmer of opportunity.

"Actually, I was more curious about what you were doing lat…" Needa was interrupted by the chime of the door. In stepped, of all people, General Maximillian Veers.

The general was dressed to perfection, still in his uniform. It was ironed smooth. His insignias sparkled. His boots shined. He adjusted his gloves casually and took in the shop in an instant. Needa turned back towards the girl to come to the horrible realization that her attention was now wholly on the general.

"Can I help you, sir?" she said in a voice that was more than necessarily inviting…at least in Needa's opinion.

The general turned to her and actually deigned to cast a slight smile on her. She smiled back with far greater intensity.

"Actually, my dear, you can," he started, "You see, there is this woman I have seen with a lovely figure. I cannot get her out of my head. Do you know her?"

The woman blushed hotly. Needa's eyes reached the size of saucers as he realized that he was no longer in the room, at least not to the other two present. The woman walked right past Needa towards the general who stepped forward as well.

"I may know her. I'm not sure," the woman paused and nodded slightly to add, "Could you tell me more about her?"

"She has the most amazing eyes that shine like a Naboo sunset. Her hair," he continued as he nonchalantly took a strand of hers in his gloved hand, "is of that soft, warm variety of which a man can only dream. Her smile, well…as I consider it more carefully, she looks a great deal like you."

If the woman was blushing earlier, she was now a newly invented intensity of red. She smiled as broadly as was possible and then did her best to be professional.

"Sir, were you very much interested in some flowers"

"My dear, I think I have already found the most beautiful specimen in the room." He took her hand in both of his. "What do you say if you close up the shop for a bit and perhaps show me about the town?"

"Why, I would be honored, Mr…"

"General, my dear, General Veers. However," he added, "you can call me Max."

"Well, Max," the lady said, slipping her arm threw his, "You can call me Laurann."

"That is an exquisite name, Laurann," the general smiled. He glanced at his chronometer. "Ah, but time is short. Shall we?"

"I am at your service, General," Laurann coyly responded. With this, the two walked out the door arm in arm, locking it behind them.

If Captain Needa could have summed up the last few minutes, he was pretty sure they were the most acutely painful of his life. Poor Needa. He had lost the woman of his dreams, and he had lost her to Veers, that overconfident know-it-all Veers!

Fortunately, Needa did not have an overly abundant amount of time to reflect on his loss. Instead he was forced to wonder, "How am I going to get out of here? She locked me in!"

Such is the life of Captain Lorth Needa.



Elsewhere on the planet city, two more Imperial officers were walking the crowded streets. One walked briskly and with a determined, almost comically purposeful, gait. The other followed a step behind him, trying and succeeding as always to distance himself from his companion even while being in such close actual proximity. Captain Firmus Piett had the skill of being anonymous when desired, and he wanted nothing more than that when forced into serving his superior officer aboard the Executor, Admiral Ozzel.

Ozzel seemed to be speeding up as he approached what amounted to a curiosity shop in the undercity of Coruscant. It was a rather upscale part of the town and exuded a sort of reserve that Ozzel entirely lacked in that moment.

"To think, Piett! They actually have one here! I've been searching this accursed galaxy for one for years now. You'd think with my being an admiral I would get more consideration!"

"It is a cruel galaxy, sir," Piett affirmed mechanically, not even attempting to feign interest.

Ozzel sensed a certain lack of complete adoration coming from Captain Piett and called him on it.

"Why are you here, Piett?"

"You ordered me here, sir, because you thought you may need help carrying this…treasured item that you seek."

"I should have called on an ensign for this," Ozzel said gruffly.

"Indeed, you should have."

Ozzel proceeded to get more irritated and dealt with it by walking all the faster. He entered the curiosity shop practically at a jog. Piett followed at a more normal and less embarrassing pace and noticed as Ozzel nearly tripped on the one step inside the door.

The shop was full of what could only be called curiosities which made its designation as a curiosity shop all the more apt. Piett took in the room slowly and methodically, admiring the objects more on a historical or analytical level than in terms of esthetics which did not in the least concern or interest him. Ozzel behaved practically like the proverbial Bantha in a gem shop, racing around frantically in search of his object.

Ozzel's eyes finally landed on his prize. It was encased in glass and carefully lighted. Ozzel's eyes glowed with anticipation and a sense of triumph.

"Piett, over here! Look at it!" Captain Piett forced himself to meet up with the Admiral and look over the item. It was a sailing ship, a warship more precisely, like those that used to rule the oceans on countless worlds. The model was built out of wood with metal components making up the guns and cannons. Ozzel was practically drooling at the site of it.

"Do you see it, Piett?"

"I'm standing right here, sir. Of course I see it."

Unperturbed, Ozzel continued, "It's the Naboo Queen, born of the days when war tribes ruled the planet of Naboo. Oh, she was a mighty ship!"

"Undoubtedly, sir," Piett responded mechanically. He had been noticing that the sales clerk was approaching them, a woman of impeccable appearance and who clearly, to Piett's utter surprise, had more than a salesperson's eye on Admiral Ozzel.

"Can I help you, Admiral?" she asked sweetly, leaning somewhat over the case to catch Ozzel's eye. The Admiral, irked that his view of the model was partially blocked by her cascading hair, was forced to respond.

"Yes, you can, young lady," he responded, standing upright in the hopes she would do the same. Then he could once again get an unhindered look at the precious model which, to Piett, looked like little more than a glorified toy.

"This is one of the 600 original models, is it not?"

"It is, Admiral, and a fine model it is!" she affirmed, then added, "You must be a man of superior taste." She coiled her blond hair around her right index finger as she spoke.

"It seems to be in practically mint condition," the Admiral noted.

"The model itself is nearly flawless, Admiral," the eager sales lady added, moving her head about to try and catch the Admiral's eye. She rubbed her neck briefly and used the movement to nonchalantly let loose the top button of her blouse. Piett noted all of this, and Ozzel none of it. "It's unfortunate that we were unable to obtain the original casing with it."

"Oh, yes, that would have increased it's value immeasurably!" the Admiral agreed.

"Well…Admiral…there are ways to make up the loss, you know."

Piett could not help but be both impressed and amused by the forwardness of this woman contrasted with the utter obliviousness of her target.

Admiral Ozzel stared fixedly at the model. Suddenly, his eyes lighted up in a way that nothing the lady could have said would have done.

"This set of guns is misplaced!" Ozzel declared, "By the Emperor's blackrobes, it's a variant!"

"A what, sir?"

Ozzel was vexed at Piett's ignorance but felt the need to enlighten him.

"A variant, Piett, means that something on it is different than the original, making it unique, and," whispering to Piett confidentially, "much more valuable!" The sales lady leaned over the glass case again to overhear. Ozzel turned back to her and was forced to pull his head back as his and the lady's where within millimeters of each other.

"If you please, young lady, I will be purchasing this piece."

"A marvelous choice, sir," she said and pausing before adding in her most enticing voice, "Would you like it personally delivered? I DO make deliveries myself."

"No, no, that won't be necessary. My subordinate here can handle the job of carrying it." Piett rolled his eyes yet again as he stood behind the Admiral.

The precious ship was carefully packed to Ozzel's specifications. The lady never ceased her flirting throughout the packing and the credit transaction, but she made no progress with the Admiral. All he saw was his model. All he thought about was the model: where we would put it, who else would see it, who he could tell about the excellent deal he got on it. Piett stood by with an almost superhuman patience as he watched the farce.

Finally Ozzel was ready to leave with his prize.

"Take that package, Piett. Careful, now! If it's broken, it's on your head!"

"I'll do my best, Admiral."

Ozzel stopped for a moment and gave Piett a suspicious look. He abruptly snatched the package from Piett.

"I think I'll just carry it myself, after all."

"Very well, sir."

Ozzel turned momentarily back to the sales lady.

"Thank you, ma'am. Good day." He nodded shortly and headed towards the door. The girl followed him longingly with a hurt look in her eyes.

Captain Piett was not one to get wrapped up in emotion. There was no time for such things in his job. In this instance though, he felt a need to speak. He watched Ozzel approach the door and turned briefly back towards the girl.

"Please do not be offended by his behavior, ma'am," Piett said, "He's stupid,"

Just then, Piett turned at the sound of loud curses at the door where Ozzel had tripped and nearly fell on the one step leading out the door.

"Clumsy and stupid," Piett corrected himself. He gave the girl a slight smile and turned to follow his superior. He is my superior, Piett mused, but in title only. That much was abundantly clear.

So started another year in the ranks of the Imperial officers.
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