#Finis Valorum

[jewishcissiekj]

coming out as a Finis Valorum fan. he sucks at his job but I think that's part of his charm

and with his assistant Sei Taria being Politically astute, yet sometimes devious according to Wookiepedia and slaying all throughout her screen time, they may have not been a very productive or useful Chancellor's office but they were cunty and iconic and I think at the end that's what really matters

[auditect]

Ever wanted to see a Wookiee Jedi in action?

Watch as the mighty Tyvokka leads the charge against the greatet collective of mercenaries, smugglers and pirates ever formed! The Stark Hyperspace War escalates with the thrilling continuation! (And this time it's not an April Fool's joke!)

[comicwaren]

From Star Wars: Jango Fett #001, “Trail of Lost Hope, Part 1”

Art by Luke Ross and Nolan Woodard

Written by Ethan Sacks

[archeo-starwars]

Star Wars Fact Files #122, 2004

[crispyjenkins]

All We Have is Hunger (wipwed 1)

the official start to wip wednesdays! i'm constantly writing, but not always posting, and i miss the engagement of storytelling. so!! here's the first attempt. wipwed stuff will be linked from my masterlist, which is my pinned post, where you'll also find links to the main fic i love you all dearly, i hope you're safe and well 🧡🌻🧡

  “We have seen lesser men do far worse for power,” his sister says, “This whole situation put Senator Palpatine in the perfect position to make a bid for your seat.”

  While he had stayed standing until then, Valorum gives in and sinks into the chair that completes the little triangle around Padmé’s throne. “I wonder,” he murmurs, “if he would have succeeded, had Messere Naberrie not been there to raise suspicion.”

  Padmé clenches her jaw, eyes lowered. “He would have. I would have called for a vote of no confidence had Obi-Wan not talked me out of it.”

  What a frankly horrifying thought. There are certainly worse options for chancellor, Obi-Wan supposes, especially considering non-senatorial entities with seats in the Senate would have been included in the pool of candidates. However, after the last few weeks, the thought of Palpatine at the head of the Republic makes him physically ill.

  Valorum hums to himself, leaning his chin into his palm with gaze distant. “He has only a few months left before he has to be re-elected, and the vouch of the current Queen holds significant weight.”

  Obi-Wan blinks. “We can elect someone else.”

  Shooting him an indulgently-amused look, Valorum nods. “Indeed. Perhaps someone we already know is trustworthy with the good of the planet in mind?”

-

[fictiongarden]

Midnight in the Garden - Chapter 25 - FictionGarden - Star Wars - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Sereine stood up then, crossing her arms in front of her. "You might as well make yourself comfortable, Anakin," she said sadly. "I - we - have something to tell you about."

Anakin Skywalker had finally traveled beyond disbelief, beyond hurt, beyond missing the Palpatine he had loved for thirteen years and hoping to get him back. Anakin Skywalker had finally reached anger, and it pulsated throughout the room.

His face went red; his hands clenched into fists. "I'm going to kill him!" he roared. "I'll kill him!"

His tiny wife stood before him; Finis, watching her carefully, saw her sleeve quiver. Anakin jumped to his feet.

"No, you won't, Anakin," Padmé said flatly. "You can't."

"What is this?" The boy's scream hurt Finis's ears from several feet away; Padmé flinched. "When we found out about this you wanted him dead! You all wanted him dead! Now he does this and I can't kill him?"

He advanced on Padmé, towering over her. "Give me my lightsaber, Padmé." Murder sharpened his voice to a steel edge.

Padmé glanced across the balcony, where Dormé was already boarding the speeder. The engine started and she took off. Anakin whipped about at the sound.

"You think that's going to stop me?" he shouted, and Padmé flinched again and backed up a few steps. "I'll have his head for this!"

Finis wet his lips and tried. "You can't do that, Anakin. It's exactly what he wants. You told us yourself. Remember what you said about Depa Billaba?"

"I can defeat Palpatine! I can kill Palpatine! I am more powerful than I've ever been!"

"Anakin, please, you aren't able to kill him," said Padmé, her hands out in front of her as if in prayer, folded around his lightsaber. "You haven't even come close!"

"I haven't tried," Anakin snarled. "But I should have! Give me my lightsaber. Give it to me!"

He reached out one hand and tried to Force-pull it from her. But she had slipped the ring around her finger, and he yanked it so hard it caught. Padmé squealed in pain and, bending, cradled her left hand.

"Are you all right?" said Sereine, and rushed forward to examine her hand. From the back hallway a baby began to cry.

Anakin stalked the women. "Now give it here," he grated. Fully expecting to be knocked to the floor, Finis came forward, ready to take a blow for Padme if necessary.

Sereine looked up. "I can't let you have it, Anakin."

Tears of pain glistened in Padmé's eyes. "Anakin, don't you see?" she pleaded. "He is making you angry, he is making you use the dark side!"

A wild hate burned in Anakin's eyes. "And it will give me the power to kill him!" he rumbled. "Now give me my lightsaber!"

Padmé had not slipped the ring off of her finger. Now she closed her fist around it. "Break my hand, then, Anakin!" she challenged.

The next instant Anakin was on her, shoving Sereine almost to the floor, jerking Padmé roughly by the arm and trying to open her fist. Padmé cried out.

Recalling his policeman days, Finis dove between them and hauled at Anakin's arm. "You will not put your hands on her, Anakin! Not in front of me!" He used his best Senate Rotunda shout; probably the neighbors on the next level heard him. Anakin let go of Padmé and wheeled on him, drawing his arm back for a punch.

Finis stepped back, his own arms up. It had been a long time and the enraged dragonmount would probably kill him, but if he had to fight him, he would.

"Jedi Skywalker!" shouted Sereine. Anakin glanced at her. "Do you realize that you are about to hit the former Supreme Chancellor of this Republic in the face?"

Anakin's blue eyes lit with an evil cunning. He turned on Padmé and directed a laser gaze at her fist. "Drop it, Padmé!" he ordered. "Drop it!"

She stubbornly balled her hand and stared him down. "You're going to have to break my hand, Anakin," she repeated.

"No, I won't." With a metallic ping, the metal ring snapped and the lightsaber fell to the floor. Padmé dove for it, but it flew through the air and into Anakin's hand. He hooked it to his belt and strode for the door.

"No!" they all yelled. "Anakin, no!" shouted Finis and Sereine.

Padmé palmed her blaster again, dropped to one knee, and aimed very carefully at her husband.

"Padmé, what are you doing?" Sereine gasped. But before the words were even out of her mouth, a perfectly aimed blaster bolt zinged right past Anakin and burned a hole in the wall, singeing his pants -

- and cutting his lightsaber neatly in two.

Anakin jumped in surprise, saw the end of his ruined lightsaber bounce to the floor, and started back towards them again.

Finis thought fast. "What are you going to do, Anakin?" he challenged. "You can't build another lightsaber tonight. I don't think the Jedi will lend you one. You think Palpatine has a spare, perhaps?"

Anakin paused, then swung around again. "I'll go to the Jedi Temple," he said. "I and the entire Council will kill him - together!"

"You can't do that!" Sereine called out. "If you do that, Palpatine gets what he wants! What happens when he discredits the entire Jedi Order? Think about that, Anakin!" She chased him to the door. "Palpatine tries to kill your wife, and you reward him by letting him kill all the Jedi? Do you want to do that?"

They disappeared into Padmé's foyer, and Finis bolted for the door, Padmé close at his heels.

They found Anakin leaning with both palms on the wall, his head down, Sereine by his side. She reached out as if she wanted to touch him, but didn't dare to.

As Padmé and Finis approached, he raised his head and looked over at them. His eyes narrowed with a feral gleam; his voice thickened in a gutteral growl. He looked like a trapped animal. "You think this will stop me?" he rumbled. "You can't stop me. Tomorrow I'll have another weapon and I will kill him!"

Sereine burst out with a forced exhalation of air, threw up her hands, and clattered away from them down the hall. While Padmé inched closer to her husband, Finis stepped closer to his wife, who turned and pounded the wall in frustration.

She leaned her forehead against the wall for a moment. Finis was on the point of asking her if she was all right, when she roused herself and came back to them.

"You sound so angry, Anakin," she said.

Anakin turned on her as if he would eat her alive. "You're kriffing right I'm angry!" he roared. "He said he'd never forbid me Padmé! He said I could have her! He said that Sith never deny themselves - that I could have anything I want! And now he's trying to kill her! He lied! He lied!"

He swung away from the door and charged back through the living room like a crazy person. They followed, Padmé pulling at their sleeves.

"The veranda," she murmured. "Don't let him get out on the veranda."

"Surely he wouldn't jump!" Finis murmured back.

"Oh, yes, he will," said Padmé. "I saw Obi-Wan do it once. If a speeder passes too closely, it's all over!"

Anakin stalked toward the balcony.

"You're angry at Palpatine because he lied to you!" Sereine challenged. "What else?"

Anakin turned. "What, are you stupid? He knows how much Padmé means to me! He knows I can't live without her! He's trying to hurt me! He's trying to rip our family apart!"

Sereine folded her hands, furrowed her brow, and made a soft, understanding murmur.

Anakin paced back into the room. "I loved him! I loved Palpatine for thirteen years! I loved him like a father, or a grandfather! I loved him more than Obi-Wan! And in return he - " He ran his fingers through his hair once, heaving. The veins stood out on his neck.

"I hate him!" he screamed. He turned and gripped a lamp and hurled it to the floor with a crash. "I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!"

Several more lamps shattered. Overhead, the Force cracked several light fixtures in a shower of sparks. Padmé jumped and opened her mouth; Sereine put out her arms and pressed her back. "He'll stop," she whispered. "Eventually he'll stop."

She turned back to Anakin and stepped carefully closer. "What else?" she said. "What else?"

"I feel so used!" Anakin shouted. At last his voice began to quiet somewhat. "All that time - all that flattery from 'the great man.' He was just using me! He never cared about me at all!"

At last Anakin dropped onto a couch. "He never cared about anything at all! I feel like such a fool! Such an idiot!"

Sereine stepped closer. "That has to hurt," she said quietly.

Anakin's eyes roved desperately around the room. Finis, stepping closer, thought he saw a hint of tears.

"And to kill Padmé!" he said hoarsely. "My sweet, beautiful Padmé, who never hurt anyone, to leave two beautiful babies motherless - !" His jaw knotted and his fists clenched again. "He's a monster!" he growled, but there were tears in the growl. "A monster! I hate him!"

By now both babies were crying. Padmé took a step toward the back hallway. "I'll be right back," she whispered, and sprinted.

Sereine apparently felt safe enough now to close the rest of the distance beween herself and Anakin. She crunched carefully over the broken glass and stood in front of him, her arms crossed, and he looked up at her and snarled, "He'll never be human! He's hopeless! We have to kill him, or he'll destroy everything!" Trembling, he got up again and began to pace.

Sereine maneuvered herself between him and the veranda. "What do you want to do?" she asked quietly.

"I have to face him," he said. Emotion heated his face; his eyes glistened.

"Anakin," Finis tried again, "you're powerful, but you're insufficiently trained. If you do this, he'll leave your babies without a father. Just like he almost left my sons without one last year."

"This isn't the same thing!" the boy argued. "I can go to the Jedi - I can go to Obi-Wan! I don't have to tell the Council! If I can kill Dooku alone, Obi-Wan and I can kill Palpatine! I'll explain to him! He'll help me! He won't tell!" He looked at Sereine. "I have to do what I should have done the night we met!"

Sereine drew close and caught his hands in hers, drawing him to a halt. "But the night we met," she said gently, "you had made a different decision."

Anakin threw his arms out in frustration and screamed in her face. "It was the wrong one! How stupid do you have to be?"

Padmé walked back into the living room with one baby in a sling around her neck and the other cradled in one arm. At Anakin's shout, the baby in her arms began to cry again. She stopped and shushed it gently, her wide eyes tracking her husband over the child's head.

"Anakin," she pleaded, "look at us! Look at Luke and Leia and me. We're all here. We're safe. We're safe, Anakin! Palpatine can't get me any more. I had the evidence and I just blasted it right out there on the porch! You saw me!" she said desperately. "This isn't about protecting anyone - all you want is revenge!"

Anakin wheeled about, hands clenched into fists. "This is about protecting you! Protecting everyone! From him!"

He turned to Finis. "You! You've been pressing for this all along! Was it revenge when you told us to do it?"

Finis swallowed. Even he had to admit it. "No," he said, "but it is now. Anakin, we saw it in time. We stopped him. Padmé and the babies are all right. Palpatine is no better off now than he was yesterday."

"But he tried to kill my wife!" Anakin's voice rang with pain. "He tried to kill my wife!" *** The 2005 classic from the TFN juried archive. On the night of General Grievous' defeat, Anakin Skywalker goes to Padme with his gruesome discovery, instead of to Mace Windu. By chance, he meets former chancellor Valorum and his wife. Together the foursome figure out how to redeem Palpatine and save the galaxy ... without firing a shot.

[stagbeetleboy]

Chancellor Finis Valorum /petrolisthes violaceus

Not only did I choose this crustacean for its striking coloration, which resembles Valorum’s robe, but bc petrolisthes is a genus of porcelain crabs. Which (like the name suggests) are very delicate.

"If I may say so, Your Majesty, the Chancellor has little real power..” -Senator Palpatine

Porcelain crabs easily break apart, dropping their limbs to distract predators.

“He is mired by baseless accusations of corruption. The bureaucrats are in charge now.” - Sanator Palpatine continued

Because they inhabit tide pools and stony crevasses they can be easily stepped on/trampled.

[sw5w]

I Will Be Chancellor

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:32:10

[valorums]

@shadowedlights       sent         …        "Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to my family's for Thanksgiving dinner."

╰► SOURCE: Unprompted Asks / ALWAYS ACCEPTING

The RISING OPERA STAR blinked, taken aback by this most unexpected question. After the assassination of her father a few months prior, Shi’al originally intended to spend this holiday alone for the sake of grieving, but it seems that the hand of Fate had other plans.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀“ You … ” Shi’al momentarily trailed off, her brain SHORT CIRCUITING in the wake of this development. “ Are you … You’d really want me there? ”

[david-talks-sw]

When did the Jedi lose their way?

A notion put forward by Tales of the Jedi and The Acolyte is the idea that the Jedi were losing their way, as an Order, by letting themselves become more institutionalized and mired in bureaucracy.

Is that the intended narrative? Nope!

Because here's the thing, Lucas acknowledges the fact that the Jedi start to be corrupted, at some point. But if you ask him, that happens as a consequences of being used as generals during the Clone Wars.

(note the keywords "used" and "forced"... aka they didn't willingly join the war, they were drafted by the Senate to fight in it, see here for more research & quotes)

But during The Phantom Menace? The Jedi are in their heyday.

"You see the heyday of the Jedi, when they are the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, sort of like the old marshals out West. And there's thousands of them." - Vanity Fair, 1999

Their only fault is that:

the Senate is their boss and the Senate is corrupted af which limits their mandate greatly (so not really the Jedi's fault, but it does make their hands tied)

they're oblivious to the Sith's scheme.

This notion that "they were so institutionalized/detached from the regular Joes of the galaxy that they became dispassionate and lost their way, forgot about the little guy" is absolute headcanon from fans and current authors. Lucas never brings it up once.

On the contrary, during development, he and concept artists took measures to make them look less institutionalized and heartless.

The Jedi temple isn't meant to signify an ivory tower, it represents a place of warmth/worship that contrasts with the coldness dispassion of the Senate building.

The Jedi used to wear uniforms, it was softened to a humble tunic.

Because the intended narrative is that the Republic (including the Jedi) and Anakin's downfall are paralleled with Palpatine's rise to power. There is a direct correlation, both in-universe and thematically.

As Palpatine becomes Emperor, the Republic dies under thunderous applause while the Jedi get slaughtered, and Anakin becomes Darth Vader.

As Palpatine gets emergency powers, the Republic weakens because of the war, the Jedi's values are foregone and Anakin is put in situations where he fails to uphold the Jedi teachings, over and over.

And it all starts when Palpatine becomes Chancellor after pushing out Finis Valorum, marking the end of an age of value.

(Get it? Finis Valorum? "Finis", latin for "end", "Valorem", latin for "value" puns are fun!)

[sithsjedi]

The 𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝙴𝙾𝙿𝙻𝙴 tilted her head whilst listening to her companion speak, brows furrowing as she processed his words. Nevertheless, the implication that she possessed POWER at her fingertips has an instantaneous effect upon her visage; it made her eyes gleam with pride, her back straighten, and her lips twitch upward into a smile.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “ I’ve never thought of myself as a threat, Master Kenobi — on the contrary, all I’ve ever wanted is to help others, not harm them. ” Shi’al admits, reaching up and re-centering the string of pearls which hang around her neck, then permitting her hand to fall back down to her side. “ Still, though, I think I grasp your point. I want to use my privelege for goodwill, but that upsets the oppressive system that has been in place for centuries. Therefore, I’m a threat. If that’s the reason behind such a label, then I think I’d be alright with it. ”

“ I can’t stand being cooped up here in Coruscant. I want to be out there helping the Republic’s people face-to-face, and doing what a public servant is supposed to do. But Papa and Godpapa — well, that is to say, Chancellor Palpatine — both say it’s too dangerous. ” It was within these rambling words that Shi’al’s youth crept out of hiding from behind her otherwise immaculate mask of maturity; here, the young woman’s musings became petulant grumbles. This was a sore topic. “ I suppose they’re right, since your Jedi Council has agreed to send you here at all, but if I could be out there doing something to help then I would. Alas, I can’t, so I just try to channel that energy into my performances instead. ”

@spokewar

“ music tells stories of love and hate … greed and beauty … life … and death. stories such as this one. ”

— Shi’al Valorum to Obi-Wan Kenobi

──✶prompts from the dark pictures anthology

"I can see why you threaten them so much, young one." The separatists would always fear those who could talk circles around them and their empty vows. Rather than answering questions, they tended to counter with their own in weak attempts to shake the fundamental beliefs of their enemies and those who would dare question them. Obi-Wan was not a man trained for war—quite the opposite—but even he knew their final battle would not be dictated by who pulled the last trigger, but by who had the loudest rally behind them. The war would end in favor of those whose spirits had never broken, whose words could not be silenced. It was why people like Shi'al were so important; she was no senator, jedi, nor battle-hardened general; she was a reflection of the people (something Obi-Wan and his fellow soldiers could ever be). "But please be careful where you speak, you have a good head on you and I hope to still see it at the end of the war."

[jewishcissiekj]

this book being consistent with the comics is everything to me, love it when an expanded universe is consistent across multiple media

[auditect]

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Quinlan Vos

A friendship so strong not even the storms of the Clone Wars could extinguish it! But how did these two legendary Jedi meet? Witness their first adventure together in Star Wars: The Stark Hyperspace War: Part 3!

[grumfield]

speaking of finis valorum i'll never forget that one fic that couldn't figure out what to do with padme during an obikin scenario so paired her off with him. conceptually hilarious. 60 year old man and twentysomething who got him voted out of office. please lfmao

[archeo-starwars]

[sashketter]

The Captain and the Senator

Chapter 4 - Project Spycraft

Summary: After learning of Omega’s abduction, Riyo Chuchi and the clones plan a stealth reconnaissance mission into the Imperial Inspectorate HQ for intel on Hemlock’s lab. Once there, Rex and Riyo run into Boil, discover a list of clone deserters, and recruit Admiral Barton Coburn for the Clone Underground.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: One fluffy Rexiyo scene.

Notes: This takes places during Omega’s first stint at Tantiss. I refuse to believe the regs wouldn’t or couldn’t help Hunter and Wrecker search for Omega. I like to think whatever mission Rex and Echo were on that kept them for two rotations had to have been related to her or Tantiss. I might’ve gotten a little carried away tying in other people and places, but I think it works.

Chapter 3 - Table of Contents - Chapter 5

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Senator.”

“This was your idea, Captain.”

Despite Riyo’s best efforts to tailor a Pantoran guard’s uniform to Rex’s measurements, the helmet is still too big for the clone’s head. It falls over his nose as they walk along the First Battle Memorial. Rex pushes it back up in time to nod to an Imperial officer. Following close behind, Riyo wonders if she should have brought along one of her guards after all.

Echo had returned from Ord Mantell several rotations ago with news of Omega’s abduction by a Dr. Royce Hemlock. The clones were divided on next steps. Echo and Gregor wanted to join Hunter and Wrecker on the search. Howzer and Fireball wanted to continue preparing the base on Teth where Nemec and a few others were waiting for more supplies. Samson was loath to leave the base on Pantora unguarded, and Greer felt the base on Orto Plutonia still needed renovations. Rex was torn.

Riyo cast the deciding vote. “Continue with your missions. We cannot begin the search without knowing where to look first. Rex, you and I must call on all our contacts.”

Halle Burtoni was no longer amenable to any contact with Riyo Chuchi, convinced by Rampart’s arrest that she would soon face a similar fate. Imperial officers stonewalled Bail Organa at every turn. Even Senator Mon Mothma offered her help and only reached as far as Finis Valorum’s opinion that any Imperial assets guarded closely enough to trip up the good senator from Alderaan would require the highest-level security clearances. At least Chairman Papanoida managed to point to the Durands for some intel; Echo comm’d Hunter and Wrecker with the tip while the regs continued pulling strings. None of Rex’s contacts within the Empire could turn up anything on a Dr. Hemlock or an Advanced Science Division.

“Would Rampart have had a high enough security clearance?” Riyo looks around the holotable at each clone.

Rex shakes his head. “Yes, but it would’ve been revoked by now.”

“Of course, but what about his computer?” Riyo starts to feel out of her depth, but she continues, “Would the databanks in his office have been wiped?”

“No!” Gregor lands a light punch on the table. “Echo, you said Kamino was evacuated before the bombardment.”

Annoyance crumples Echo’s face. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Could some of the clones from Kamino have been taken to wherever Howzer and the others were heading?” Gregor knows it’s a stretch.

“It’s possible.” Echo rubs his chin. “They haven’t all been accounted for. What does that have to do with Rampart?”

Howzer catches on. “Any information related to Rampart’s arrest can’t be wiped. They’ll be part of Imperial records. That should include the destination for the clones evacuated from Kamino.”

Realization dawns in a wave around the table.

“Internal Affairs might’ve already taken the databanks from Rampart’s office,” Gregor taps at the holotable and brings up a map of the former Republic military base on Coruscant, “but the backups are housed in the building’s central processing grid. If we can get into Rampart’s office, we can access the backup databanks.”

Echo doesn’t like their odds. “Can’t we just connect to any panel at HQ? Or go directly to the building’s central databanks?”

“No,” Rex remembers some quirks in Republic security, “if Chancellor Valorum is right, only the highest-level security clearances will get us in, and those could still be on Rampart’s computer.”

“They’re tied to the office, not the officer?” Fireball wonders why they haven’t stormed HQ yet. “Seems sloppy.”

“For the sake of efficiency,” Nemec’s holographic image ponders, “so that incoming officers can get to work without waiting for the system to update.”

Greer is curious. “Who’s Rampart’s replacement?”

Samson’s ahead of him. “I don’t think he’ll be replaced, which means his computer is probably already gone.”

Rex turns to Riyo. “What about Senate records?” The men fall silent.

The Senator shakes her head. “I tried. Much of Rampart’s arrest has already been locked and classified. By the Emperor, I imagine. The Imperial Inspectorate HQ is our best chance of finding anything on Hemlock’s laboratory if it is still an ongoing project.”

The clones settle into quiet contemplation. They all know Gregor’s hunch is a stretch, but it doesn’t feel beyond the realm of possibility. A top-secret Advanced Science Division could be responsible for the top-secret clone assassin whose identifying number could be erased only by top-secret technologies. Rampart’s deployment of the clone assassin means he likely had access to the Advanced Science Division helmed by Hemlock – a tenuous connection but their best lead so far.

And after everything Howzer and his men had recounted about their time on Balmorra, it was evident that the Empire’s attitudes towards the clones contained two contradictory notions: they were both inconsequential and a threat, treated like disposable debris but deliberately divided from each other. Everyone in the galaxy knew what the Jedi-influenced Republic troopers were capable of doing when they worked together, so separating and isolating them between several facilities, between prisons and science divisions, was a logical strategy.

“We have to try.” Riyo breaks the silence. “For Omega.”

The men nod at each other and begin.

“Rex, can you get us some stormtrooper gear?”

The Captain hits the brakes. “Negative.”

The men share confused looks. Echo swings his arms out, gesturing to the makeshift command deck on the top floor of a “community center,” and counters, “You can get all this equipment, but not—”

“The Imperial Command Center isn’t a transport ship or a planet on the Outer Rim,” Rex explains. “It’s the head of military operations in the heart of the Empire. Checkpoints in each section require codes that change multiple times a day.” He punches a few buttons on the holotable and highlights on the map dozens of checkpoints manned by armed troopers, metal sensors, and bioscanners.

“What, you can’t get the codes?” Gregor ribs the Captain. In another lifetime, the commando would’ve recruited CT-7567 for his squad.

Rex smirks. “I’m good, but I’m not that good. Why doesn’t the commando have a crack at it?”

Gregor laughs. “You can’t get rid of me that easy, Rex, old boy. I intend to—”

“I was able to get in with one of my guards.” Ever soft and light, Riyo’s voice commands the men’s attentions. “I had a meeting with Rampart to discuss provisions for…” She trails off, ashamed, and casts her eyes down. Rex rests a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and she covers his hand with hers.

He picks up her lead. “Echo, can you schedule an appointment for the Senator?”

“Without alerting them? Depends on the officer.”

Rex nods. “I know just the one.”

Echo had insisted that he be the one to accompany Riyo into the Imperial Command Center, nearly coming to blows with Rex, but his scomp was difficult to disguise. Howzer had returned to Teth, and Gregor and Fireball left to liberate another clone prisoner transport, leaving Rex as the Senator’s sole accomplice. He wasn’t as adept with computers as Echo or Nemec, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve to bypass some security. As a precaution, he rigged a comlink into the Pantoran helmet and kept an encrypted line open to Echo who hid in the back of Riyo’s senatorial speeder. All Riyo had to do was walk to Rampart’s office.

“She’ll be safe,” Rex assures Filip in the Senator’s office at Pantoran City. They were scheduled to leave for Coruscant in half a rotation.

“I’m more worried about you.” Filip turns his tall helmet over in Rex’s hands. “You don’t exactly look Pantoran.”

Rex smirks and tries on the guard’s helmet. “You don’t recruit off-worlders?”

“Perhaps they should,” Riyo chimes in, holding out a hanger with a Pantoran guard’s uniform. “I did my best, but Filip has a point. Perhaps we should paint—”

“I’m not doing blue face, Senator.” He sets the helmet down on the coffee table and stands to take the uniform. He knows he doesn’t look Pantoran enough to pass as one of Riyo’s guards, but none of the guards the clones spoke to felt up to the task of successfully navigating Imperial security, much less committing treason.

“I wouldn’t be offended, Rex. Just the lower half of your face, the only part of you that is not covered.”

Rex looks to Filip for support, but the guard simply shrugs. “Whatever it takes, Captain. You know more about Imperial systems than any of us.”

The clone turns towards the adjoining fresher where he changes into the custom uniform. Rex is no stranger to disguises, but for a moment, as he adjusts the cape around his shoulders through his reflection above the sink, he wonders what his life would be like protecting the Senator or the Chairman as an official guard. He’s surprised to find that the idea doesn’t turn him off.

Filip wolf whistles and salutes when Rex returns in full regalia. “Looks good!”

Riyo sits on the sofa, an open tin of blue stage paint in her lap and a brush in her hand. She gestures for Rex to sit next to her and smiles when she gets a closer look at her handiwork. She could have had her own seamstress or a droid make the alterations, but in the interests of total secrecy, she spent two rotations poking Rex with pins and hunched over a sewing machine. She pinches his collar where the ornamental tassel hangs, smoothing it down his chest while unaware of her guard’s watchful surprise. Rex smirks at her pride, and Riyo smiles back. Filip makes a mental note to leave them alone more often.

“A little short for a Pantoran guard,” Filip interrupts.

Rex huffs as Riyo crooks a finger under his chin to expose his neck to the window’s light. “Nothing I can do there, Fil.”

Riyo swirls her brush around in the tin and starts at Rex’s Adam’s apple. “Your brother is the same height as the good captain, Filip, and no one in the Assembly thinks less of him because of it.”

“Speak for yourself, Senator. He is my little brother, after all.” Filip smiles and leaves to return to his post just outside the double doors.

Riyo continues in silence, quickly covering Rex’s neck and jaw. He tilts his chin down when she reaches his cheeks. She senses him tense up and tries to calm him.

“I would’ve thought you liked blue.” She smiles and catches surprise in his eyes.

Rex clears his throat. “Uh, well, I like it better on you.”

Riyo’s eyebrows shoot up. “I meant because of your armor.” She tries to hide her smile and focus on the last stretches of his tan skin left. “But thank you, Rex.” She catches his lips turn into a smirk as he squeezes her thigh. She bites her bottom lip to stifle her squeal.

Rex wonders if he’s turning as purple as she is.

~~~

Rex straightens his posture and balances the Pantoran helmet on the crown of his head as they enter the Imperial Inspectorate HQ. Not much had changed in the way it looked, but to the Captain of the 501st, the absence of the clones’ customized colors changed everything. Nondescript troopers roamed the atrium in squads or platoons. He counts only a handful of the clones’ helmets. Rex finds it easier to suppress the urge to nod or salute with the balancing act on his head. Two troopers man the front desk, one in front of and the other behind it.

The one in front steps forward, holding his rifle across his chest. “State your business.”

Riyo steps next to Rex who stands at attention. “I have a meeting with Admiral Barton Coburn.”

Keys clack behind the desk while Rex takes in all points of in- and egress in his peripheral vision. He knows to avoid the main entrance if he and Riyo need to make a quick escape.

The trooper behind the desk speaks up. “TK-3094, escort the Senator to Admiral Coburn’s office.”

Riyo raises a hand. “Thank you, but I can find my way.”

TK-3094 stands unmoving in front of her. “Standard procedure, Senator.”

Rex’s fists tighten behind his back. He knows this was not standard operating procedure when it was the Republic Center for Military Operations. He hopes his knowledge of the building’s security systems are still reliable.

“And have your guard leave his weapon here.”

“As I recall, trooper,” Riyo moves past TK-3094 towards the desk, “that was not standard procedure when I was last here. What’s one firearm to a building of battalions? And my guards are bound by Pantoran decree to remain armed in my presence. They are not subject to Imperial whims.”

Riyo squares her shoulders and hopes she hasn’t flexed her command too far. She turns towards Rex who faces his own silent standoff with TK-3094. She’s glad his visor hides his gaze, though she spies his lips twitch into a smirk. Whether at her bravado or the unmoving TK trooper, she wasn’t sure, but she hopes he’ll remain silent or risk undermining her own words.

“For now,” warns the voice behind the desk. Riyo whips around with a stern look before the trooper waves his hand. “Very well. On your way.”

TK-3094 walks ahead of Rex and Riyo, brandishing his security pass at each checkpoint, as they make several turns down several corridors. In his helmet, Rex hears Echo growl, “Get rid of him.” Riyo hears the faint grumble and looks up into Rex’s helmet. He shakes his head imperceptibly. Two more turns will bring them past Rampart’s office. Riyo looks around for a distraction in the empty hallway. To her surprise, it comes from behind.

“Senator Chuchi, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

The three turn around to face an Imperial officer. He’s just far enough to obscure his name tag, but Riyo recognizes his rank.

“Admiral, I—”

“You’re early.” He extends a welcoming hand on her arm. She spies his name and looks up in relief. He turns to TK-3094. “You’re dismissed.”

Rex and Riyo continue down the hall with Admiral Coburn who waits for the TK trooper to turn the corner before addressing them. They walk side by the side, the men flanking Riyo.

“Senator, I must commend you for your defense of clone rights on the Senate floor.” Coburn walks at attention, hands folded behind his back. “Many still serve under my command, and they took your impassioned speech to heart. Know that you are not alone in believing the clones deserve more than what the Empire is willing to give them.”

“Thank you, Admiral. It is always reassuring to know whom one’s allies are.”

“Indeed.” Without pause, Coburn asks, “What’s your name, trooper?” The Admiral was a shrewd man. He would recognize a clone anywhere.

“Rex, sir,” without breaking stride, “it’s good to see you.”

Coburn turns his head halfway in Rex’s direction. “Captain? I— records said you were killed in action.”

“Yes, sir, en route to Coruscant from the Siege of Mandalore.”

“How did you survive?”

“I had help.”

They turn a corner and wait for a pair of troopers to pass before continuing.

“It is not safe for you to be here, Captain,” Coburn warns under his breath. “If the Empire finds out you’re alive, you will be branded a deserter and hunted down. You must leave. What were you two thinking?”

Riyo speaks slightly above a whisper. “We need your help, Admiral. A friend of mine was taken by an Imperial scientist named Dr. Royce Hemlock. We only wish to locate her.”

“I’ve never heard of a Hemlock.” Coburn doesn’t hide his agitation. “What did your friend do to warrant her capture?”

“Nothing, Admiral,” Rex grumbles. “I bet you won’t even find an arrest warrant for her in the system.”

Coburn stops and looks down. He groans, “I am sure you are right.”

Rex and Riyo turn to face him. Their fears of more Imperial officers acting with impunity are confirmed in the Admiral’s sighs and sagging shoulders. They look around and find Coburn’s office two doors down. Hope blooms in the empty hallway.

“You could’ve turned me in, Admiral.” Rex tests him. “But you brought us to your office. This is why we scheduled a meeting with you.”

Coburn looks up and meets Rex’s determination. “What do you need, Captain?”

They hurry into the Admiral’s office. Coburn and Riyo head for the desk while Rex keeps his ear to the door, blaster in hand. He shifts his head inside the oversized helmet to whisper into the comlink.

“Mako-2, still there?”

“Copy, Mako-1. I’m patched into the building’s comm channel. So far, so good.”

“Signal when the hallway is clear. We’ll wait to leave until then.”

“Copy that.”

Rex turns and nods to Riyo who stands behind Coburn sitting at his desk.

The Admiral taps at his console and lights up the screen. “What are we looking for?”

Riyo whispers, “Anything pertaining to Vice Admiral Edmon Rampart and his operations on Kamino.”

Keys clack as Coburn scoffs, “I never did like him.” The Admiral remembers Rampart’s identifying number and heads straight to his profile. The screen flashes an error message.

“Oh, no.” Riyo stares in shock. She realizes the locked documents in the Senate records were a placeholder.

Coburn is more determined. “That’s odd. Let me do a general search.”

Error message.

“Rex!” Riyo is wide-eyed and breathless as she turns towards the door. “They wiped him completely. There’s no record of Rampart in the Imperial system.”

Coburn continues clacking. “Only his arrest and his current location at a labor camp.”

“But no record of his service?” Rex takes a step towards the desk. “Any of his projects?” He wonders how much more the Empire is willing to erase and cover up.

“Not here at HQ.” The Admiral types furiously at his terminal, eyes fused to the screen. “Maintenance logs indicate his databanks were moved immediately after his arrest.”

Riyo wonders why. “Where?”

“It doesn’t say.”

Riyo still wonders why. “Are you sure they weren’t destroyed?”

“They appear on the manifest of a transport ship headed to…” Coburn trails off as he meets dozens of redacted lines.

“Scarif?”

Riyo turns from Coburn’s screen to Rex at the door. “It’s been classified. Why do you say—”

“I have a contact who works construction there. They’re not sure what they’re building, but he said they’re receiving tons of databanks every day.”

“Where’s Scarif?” She hopes it’s close enough to Pantora that they can resupply and make the journey before she’s called back to the Senate in a few rotations.

“In the Abrion sector, close to Kamino.” Rex had never been, but he knows if the Empire is building something top-secret on the Outer Rim, it can’t be good.

“Is it dangerous?” It’s a question Riyo asks Rex before every mission, but today, she’s curious more for herself than the clones. She had never asked to be a part of their missions, well-aware that her skillset was better suited to the Senate than the field, but now she wonders if the Captain will continue to let and help her expand her expertise.

Rex smirks. “More dangerous than the center of Imperial military operations?” He’s unaware of Riyo’s ambitions to join the clones on more of their missions, assuming instead that the Senator, as always, is worried about their safety.

Coburn butts in. “There’s something else. Communications to and from Rampart’s office.”

Riyo looks over the Admiral’s shoulder and finds—

“A list of clone numbers? Transmitted to… where?” She starts reading off, “CT-3947, CT-0569, CC-2224—”

“Wait!” Rex is already halfway to the desk. “Repeat that last one.”

“CC-2224. Did you know him?”

Rex peers over Riyo and tilts his helmet up and away from his eyes. “What is this?”

“There are dates next to each CT number and ‘AWOL.’” Riyo looks up in shock. “Rex, these clones are all deserters.”

Rex reaches over Coburn’s hands, punches a key, and brings the printer to life. “How long’s the list?”

Coburn looks up and shakes his head. “Captain, it’s–”

“Mako-1!” Echo cuts through in Rex’s helmet. “Two squads inbound. No alarm’s been tripped. Something’s up.”

“We have to go.” Rex grabs the paper that’s already out of the printer and stuffs it flat against his chest inside his uniform. “We got two squads headed our way.”

Coburn shuts off his terminal, sending the room into darkness. “Senator, over there.” He points to one of two chairs in front of his desk. “Captain, at attention next to the door. Follow my lead.”

Rex flicks the switch to turn the lights on. Coburn smooths his uniform as he walks around the desk and perches on the corner closest to Riyo. The sound of the squads’ radio chatter announces their arrival before they enter.

A knock prompts Coburn to answer, “Come in.”

The door swings open, and Rex meets the unmistakable visor of a clone trooper. His markings had been painted over grey, but the silhouette of a hawkbat on the left side of his helmet gives him away. Boil. He aims his rifle between Coburn and Riyo.

“Admiral, please step outside.” Boil lowers his weapon.

“Gladly, Sergeant. The Senator and I were just finishing.”

Boil extends a downward palm in Riyo’s direction. “Remain seated, Senator.”

Coburn stops in his steps. “What is the meaning of this?”

“This meeting was never registered with the Senate.”

Rex hears Echo curse in his left ear. The Corporal had only fixed the Imperial Inspectorate’s books and forgotten that appointments were made through Senate channels. “Stand by, Mako-1.”

Riyo stands, her face and voice immovable. “I did not think a visit with an old friend required Senate approval.”

Boil wasn’t having it. “Right,” he stretches the word two syllables longer, “but you registered it in the Imperial Inspectorate’s logbook and only our logbook.”

“Sergeant, this is nothing more than a clerical error.” Coburn puts a hand on the clone’s spaulder. “I can assure you the Senator and I were merely discussing—”

“You can discuss it with Internal Affairs.” Boil brushes off Coburn’s hand. “Both of you, come with me.”

“Sergeant, I must protest.” Riyo stands her ground. “As a member of the Imperial Senate, I am under no obligation…”

The rest is muted by the blood beating in Rex’s ears. He only knows that his hand is on his blaster, his eyes on Boil’s rifle slowly inching up to point towards Riyo. Before he can wrap a finger on his trigger, Echo chimes in. “Fixed.”

Rex stands back at attention and curtly tucks his chin in. Coburn catches the half nod.

“Check again, Sergeant.” The Admiral moves back to his desk and turns his console on. “The Senate’s systems aren’t as up-to-date as ours. Sometimes they don’t sync properly.” He taps at keys quickly.

“Admiral, stand down. You are ordered to—”

“Sergeant, I order you to stand down and look at the screen!”

While Echo was stationed in the back of the Senator’s speeder parked outside HQ, Riyo’s usual guards were on standby in her office where she would rendezvous with them for the return trip to Pantora. Echo comm’d Roland and Tival with instructions to make an appointment through one of Riyo’s aide’s terminals and cover up the time delay in the Senate’s system.

Boil looks down at Coburn’s console. His helmet hides his reaction, but Rex can hear the low hmm of a clone trooper processing new information. He’d heard it enough times to know that whatever Echo did had worked.

Still looking down at the screen, Boil punches a key and orders the troopers outside the door. “Stand down.” He looks up at Coburn. “Apologies, Admiral. It seems you were right about the delay between HQ and the Senate’s systems.”

“Good day, Sergeant.” Coburn was done with pleasantries and wanted only to be rid of Boil and his troopers. He fixes his face into a cold glare.

The squads retreat further down the hallway. Boil reaches the open door and turns to face the right side of Rex’s helmet. “Funny how a senator’s appointment appears first in our system before her own.” His visor turns slightly over his shoulder in Riyo’s direction.

“Curious, indeed.” She follows the Admiral’s lead. “Good day, Sergeant.”

Rex remains motionless, his back to the wall. He knows Boil is on to them, but for some reason, does no more.

“Whatever you’re doing, trooper,” Boil rumbles low enough for only Rex to hear, “don’t.”

Rex can’t decide if it’s a warning or a threat. Boil decides for him.

“Tun s’oko fendoon circaa, nerra.”

Rex doesn’t understand most of it, but he recognizes nerra. Between Waxer’s stories of Numa and Howzer’s constant cursing in Twi’leki, he understands “brother.” He understands Boil’s show of force in a superior’s office and his failure to arrest him. Rex turns his helmet enough to catch Boil nod. He returns the gesture and watches his nerra close the door.

Coburn and Riyo release the breaths they’d been holding and sit down. They don’t understand the exchange, but they know it was significant.

Echo interrupts the silence. “Mako-1, did he just say—”

“Yeah. It was Boil.”

“Will he—”

“No.” Rex takes a deep breath and finally moves. “We should go.”

Rex opens the door and swivels his head towards both ends of the hallway. Coburn and Riyo gather behind him. “Lead the way, Admiral.”

“Back the way you came.” Coburn steps into the hall, with Rex and Riyo close behind. “The front desk will be expecting you.”

“With more squads in the atrium.” Rex reaches for his blaster.

Coburn catches the movement. “Stand down, Captain. I’ll walk you out.”

Once again, Riyo is flanked by the men. “We can’t thank you enough for your help, Admiral. Rex spoke highly of you before, and I see now he was being modest.” She reaches a hand to Coburn’s shoulder. “You’re a good man.”

Two turns around two corners and two long corridors will bring them within sight of the main entrance. As they continue, Coburn lays a hand on Riyo’s back.

“Thank you, both of you. It’s reassuring to know there are still good people doing good work in the galaxy.”

Rex whispers, “We may need your help again in the future, Admiral.”

“And you shall have it, Captain. The Empire is not the Republic, and I am afraid we are doing more harm than good.”

“We can change that.” Rex lowers his whisper as the atrium comes in sight.

“‘We?’ You, me, and the Senator?” Coburn scoffs. “We’re vastly outnumbered.”

“Perhaps.” Riyo reaches for Rex’s hand. “But it’s not just us.”

(Footnotes here.)