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A lot has changed, since the reformation, Palpatine kept his promise and brought peace to the galaxy. Sawyer Thrills--no longer a boy, but a man--didn't see Palpatine's version of peace as law and order or freedom from war and violence. Fifteen years of this NEW ORDER...and all they've done is assemble a colossal military. It was the cornerstone of the regime's strategy for maintaining concord. A strategy intended to manipulate public opinion about the GALACTIC EMPIRE, using its military workhorse to teach trepidation to those who would oppose oppression.

Some, like Sawyer, did not succumb to the Empire's scare tactics so easily. Throughout the galaxy, resistance movements (also known as rebel cells) had started to establish hidden bases across various sectors--executing raids against the Imperials. The backlash stemmed by those who would not be subjugates of the Emperor or his lightsaber wielding enforcer, Lord Vader.



After the passing of his wife, sorrow besieged Kyle Thrills. Flooded by feelings of anger, regret, and disgust. Permitted a brief hiatus from his responsibilities as aide to the Vice Chancellor, he'd taken some time to mourn the loss of his wife and care for his son. Raising the boy, absent his mother, was a hardship that Kyle hadn't wished for himself.

A year passed, then another, the boy was starting to speak more clearly and it was time for him to begin grade school. He'd started to ask his father questions, questions about his mother. He'd been too young to comprehend his father's earliest attempts at explaining her absence. Kyle's memory of his wife had been solely transferred over to his son. That twang in his voice, his country-fried vernacular, that dark-brown hair...it all reminded him of his wife, Ann. It was all too much. He'd hoped to hold on to Sawyer and by proxy, his wife, but it didn't seem fair. Sawyer wasn't meant for this, he wasn't meant to be sheltered by his overprotective father. Hidden away from the rest of the world, so his dismal dad could use him as an emotional crutch. No. He couldn't abide it any longer. He would send his son to Juntar, to live out the remainder of his childhood with his wife's family. As for himself, he'd been far removed from a daily routine for too long, it was time that he returned to the SENATE PLAZA and returned as aide to Mas Amedda--so as to ensure that the AGE OF THE EMPIRE would continue to bring peace and justice to the galaxy.



It was a wonder his mother managed to get off of this dirt heap. Sawyer sat there, atop a mound of Juntar's soil, amused by the stubble on his face--rubbing the coarse hairs with grubby hands. He looked up at the upper-atmos, considering the stories his relatives had told him about his mother working her way up to the top. Serving the opulent-class citizens there, before her appointment to travel off-world and support the sector's representative on Coruscant.

Why then, did his father send him here--to this dirt ridden globe, to live with his mother's family--where those who weren't rolling in the credits were left to travail the farmsteads beneath the fancy chateaus floating aloft? More over, why did he bother coming here to visit him? He'd only arranged for Sawyer to travel to Coruscant a handful of times over the last thirteen years. He couldn't wrap his head around his father's rationale. This was undoubtedly what had led him to regard his father with bewilderment and shiftiness in recent years.

Regardless, being here had taught him not to complain and to be thankful for what you've got...even if it's not a lot. The jerkwater dirt-city--SOUTHACRE--hadn't been a blessing, to say the least. Its local curriculum for learning the up-and-comers was a long way from the endorsed education of those living suspended in the sky. Luckily, Sawyer's father had gifted him with a datapad and a multitude of datachips loaded with a variety of culture from all across the galaxy. Music, stories, movies, so on and so forth. He'd loved reading, hearing, and watching tales of the CLONE WARS. Fascinated by the clone soldiers, how they'd liberated the galaxy from the oppression of the Separatists and all but obliterated the treasonous JEDI ORDER.

Sawyer shook his head at those stories now. Disappointed that the courageous warriors had been consumed by the tyrannical GALACTIC EMPIRE, indentured servants to the Emperor's iron will. Even more disappointed that his very own father was a subsidiary to the Order. He wanted to hold it against his father, but he was just doing what he thought was right. His father truly believed that the the Empire sought to maintain law and order, peace and justice. Sawyer and his new friends, however, had seen things differently.



Things were hectic today, on Coruscant. Kyle was scurrying about, doing the Grand Vizier's bidding. The Chagrian was all wound up over the discovery of a rebel network that had just destroyed an Imperial-I-class Star Destroyer belonging to the GALACTIC EMPIRE. It was evident from Amedda's ramblings that the Emperor was extremely displeased.

These rebel cells had started to pop up about a decade ago. Some small resistance movement on the planet Ryloth, followed by some insurgent cell capturing Moff Tarkin's personal corvette and abandoning it in the Carida system. Until recently--in the past year--there has been a spark of rebellion that has taken root over Lothal, where the Empire has suffered quite a few losses to the upheaval caused by these rebels.

But now, now the Empire knows that these weren't isolated events. One can but speculate that all of these small acts against Imperial order have been tied to this larger network of rebellion. Even the small pricks--that had been stinging the Order like fever wasps--coming from Juntar, his wife's homeworld and where he'd taken his son to be raised by his wife's family two years after her passing.

This was cause for concern. Kyle worried that perhaps it was time to bring his son back to Coruscant, before the Empire was forced to exact justice on the dissidents of Juntar as well. He'd hoped Sawyer would've been far removed from the politics and conflicts that frequented GALACTIC CITY, having been deceived by the belief the core world was safe and couldn't be touched by war once before. A belief that cost him dearly, a cost he wasn't willing to pay again. Why then did he remain? Right. To ensure that the galaxy would be a better place under the Emperor's leadership.

He reached up and massaged his forehead, his cranium was throbbing. How unfortunate is it then--that even now--despite himself, he feels like discord and friction are unavoidable. Was it him? He couldn't help but wonder. No. He'd lived a long and mostly peaceful life up until--

Up until his son was born.



The sun was setting behind him, walking back to the Grainger--his mother's maiden name--homestead. Stopped by the beeping and buzzing of the portable imagecaster comlink that he kept in his left pocket. Sawyer pulled the communicator out and shook the dirt from it before switching it on. A shrouded holographic figure appeared.

"There have been some changes. Get with your group as soon as you can. I'll be contacting you again soon."

Before he can respond, the figure disappears. There was some urgency in her voice. Something's up. Sawyer shrugs and stuffs the device back into his pocket. He then takes a moment to pat himself down and ensure he has everything he needs before turning around, doubling back in the direction from which he'd come.

Author's Note

If you have questions, critiques, comments...by all means. Otherwise, hope you enjoy the read.

Thanks.