Star Wars: Lost Stars

Prologue: Part 3

"People of Jelucan, today represents both an ending and a beginning," said the senior Imperial officer at the celebration, a man named Grand Moff Tarkin.

(Ciena knew that was his title and his name, but she wasn't sure whether his title was Grand Moff and his name Tarkin - or whether his name was Moff Tarkin and he was very grand indeed. She'd ask later, when no second-wavers were around to mock her for not knowing.)

Tarkin continued: "On this day ends your isolation from the greater galaxy. Instead, Jelucan begins a new and glorious future by assuming its rightful place within the Empire!"

Applause and cheers filled the air, and Ciena clapped along with all the rest. But her sharp eyes picked out a few people who remained silent - elders, mostly, who would have been alive since before the Clone Wars. They stood there, still and grave, more like mourners at a funeral or witnesses to public dishonor. One silver-haired, pale-skinned woman bowed her head, and a tear ran down her cheek. Ciena wondered if perhaps she'd had a son or daughter who died in the wars and seeing all these soldiers had reminded her of the loss and made her sad on such a happy day.

Because there were so many soldiers - officers in crisp black or gray uniforms and stormtroopers in gleaming white armor. And there seemed to be nearly as many ships as troops: hard-cornered TIE fighters black as obsidian, assault cruisers the same gray as mountain granite, and high above in orbit, twinkling like the south star at morning, a few specks she knew were actually Star Destroyers. Each and every Star Destroyer was bigger than the entire city of Valentia, they said, two or three times over.

Just the thought of it made Ciena's heart swell with pride. Now she had become part of the Empire - not only her planet but she herself, too. The Empire governed the whole galaxy. The Imperial fleet's power exceeded that of any other fighting force in all of history. Seeing the ships fly overhead in precise formation, never deviating from their prescribed paths, thrilled her to the bone.

This was strength, grandeur, majesty. This was the kind of honor and discipline she'd been raised to value, but taken to heights of which she'd never dreamed. Nothing could be more beautiful than this, she thought.

Unless someday she could actually fly one of those ships herself.

Grand Moff Tarkin kept speaking, saying something about Separatist worlds that made everyone seem uncomfortable for a moment, but then he went back to how great the Empire was and how proud everyone  had to be. Ciena cheered when the others did, but by then she was wholly focused on the nearest ship, a shuttle just like the one she thought she'd seen in the sky. If only she could get a closer look . . .

Maybe after the ceremony she could.