4 ABY

I have always believed that a soul will eventually reap what it has sown. Yet, I foolishly ignored that principle as I planted the seeds of betrayal in the fields of my life. Imperial Governor Joeh Mennial thought to himself as he leaned against a rear bulkhead in the control room of an Imperial Orbital Base over the Outer Rim planet Raakhan.

A violent quaking suddenly rumbled like thunder through the corridors, bringing him out of his thoughts. The rattling subsided for a few brief moments before the decks shook again as another salvo of concussion missiles found their mark. Mennial, a short and slender man with thinning grey hair crowning a face lined with age, scanned the room with his pale blue eyes.

A set of blast doors locked from within was the only barrier separating him from the approaching enemy. Screams of soldiers falling to automatic blaster fire sent shivers running through him like a wave of electricity. Sweat dripped off his face as if he had been immersed in a sudden rain shower.

He knew the enemy who hunted him well. The thought of the enemy's name etched a grimace on his face. The Butcher of the Outer Rim, as he had recently become to be known, never took any prisoners. And if he did, then they didn't live long. Another blast rattled the room. Mennial glanced at a pair of Imperial Stormtroopers standing close to the blast doors with their E-11 blasters poised.

His blank stares betrayed him in revealing his true feelings. He knew his meager forces would prove inadequate to repel the enemy. He also knew that he couldn't afford to lose composure, especially not in the presence of the monster closing in on him.

I look upon a crop ripe for justice's harvest as the shadow of the reaper stretches out across it, Mennial thought while bracing himself against another shockwave of an explosion. Most of the other co-conspirators have been decimated by his hand. And now his scythe is aimed at me, for I alone am responsible for my role in this treason.

Even though he struggled with himself mentally, he accepted the harsh reality that he would be defeated today as he fell at his enemy's feet. But at the very least, he and the pair of stormtroopers in the room with him would take a few of the enemy's men with him before meeting their inevitable fate. Another burst of automatic fire rang out just on the other side of the blast door.

He let out a chuckle that drew curious glances from the pair of stormtroopers in the room. He knew it was more out of a nervous reaction to impending death than it was from amusement. He was breaking down mentally. That much he would admit silently to himself. And at that moment, he didn't know which was worse. Losing his mind or losing his life to an adversary he knew would sadistically kill him shortly after capturing him.

I have become his prey through my vile practices, He stated silently. And I face the inevitable now as I know that I can no longer run from the vengeance of the reaper...

He tensed up when footsteps echoed outside the door. His breathing became more erratic as he continued to struggle to keep a level head. Scraping sounds on the outside of the door gave away the enemy's attempts at bypassing the locking controls. A curse blared out, followed by hurried footsteps. A numbing silence blanketed the room.

Perhaps they are trying to find another way in. Mennial reasoned silently. It will buy me time to run to an escape pod.

He rose to his feet and took two steps before the door suddenly blew inward, spraying the room with large shards of shrapnel, obliterating control panels and displays. A chunk of the door, three-quarters of a meter in size, ripped into the chest of the stormtrooper on the far side of the room. He slumped to the floor in a bloody mass as the other stormtrooper stepped back with his blaster poised before automatic blaster fire cut through his torso. His body jerked violently in a morbid dance before his lifeless form fell to the deck plating.

A squad of Imperial Stormtroopers swiftly entered the room, pointing their weapons at the helplessly outnumbered Mennial. A sergeant stepped forward and held his blaster a few centimeters from Mennial's face. One glance at the black markings trimmed in red on the shoulder plates, breastplates, and helmets was enough to confirm the identity of the man who commanded them.

Thrawn's Exterminators. Their precise movements and their accuracy with automatic bursts from E-11 blasters gives them away, Mennial thought as he peered down the muzzle of the sergeant's blaster. Commanded by Thrawn's protégé, Admiral Garren Prolov, the Butcher of the Outer Rim.

Silence covered the room like an invisible blanket. The uniquely marked Stormtroopers stood like statues with their weapons poised at Mennial. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped to the deck plating. His trembling intensified when he suddenly heard a rhythmic pattern resembling a code tapped by a person trapped within fallen rubble. It grew in volume while remaining steady in its sequencing. The tapping continued to reverberate through the ruptured doorway. Mennial recognized the sounds. Footsteps.

The individual paused just outside of the entrance and muttered a command. His dialect was in Common Galactic Basic, far removed from the standard Coruscant accent of other Imperial Officers. It was another confirmation of the monster preparing to prey upon him.

Admiral Garren Prolov stepped into the room, glaring at Mennial with his hazel eyes blazing with fury. Prolov was dressed in the standard grey uniform of the Galactic Imperial Navy. Neat and unwrinkled. An E-11 blaster hung from his right hip, securely held in a holster. The weapon was commonplace for him as it had been often reported by those within the Empire that Prolov always carried it by his side. Word had also passed through the ranks that all of the men under his command were required to carry weapons while on duty at all times.

The only thing out of place in this encounter was Prolov's uniform. Usually, he led the troops under his command while wearing the armor of an officer. At times, he also would adorn an Imperial Tie Fighter Pilot's uniform as he was a highly skilled pilot who often chose to fly with his squadrons into battle. Both were qualities that didn't sit well with several officers in the High Command. Though it never seemed to bother either Emperor Palpatine or Grand Admiral Thrawn. Prolov's manner of dress today sent a strong signal. This was a personal visit.

Mennial straightened his posture and took a breath. "I know why you are here, Admiral Prolov. I take full responsibility for my actions, and am prepared to accept my fate."

Prolov chuckled as he moved further into the room. "You amuse me, Governor. Or should I say, former Governor?" Prolov stepped towards Mennial and ripped the rank insignia plaque off of his grey uniform. He tossed the plaque on the floor and stomped it. "You won't be needing that any longer. But I didn't come here just to remove you from power or bring you to justice."

"What possibly could be left for you to do, Prolov?" Mennial snapped. "You have killed everyone else I have conspired with! There is no one left!"

Prolov narrowed his eyes. "Don't insult my intelligence, Mennial! There are plenty of individuals left for me to eliminate. Namely, Fleet Admiral Kyvieer. I know he is in league with the Jerek Brothers. I want to know where he is." Prolov placed his hands on his hips. "The first time I ask you, I will be nice. If I have to ask again, then I won't be so nice."

Mennial trembled as he stared at Prolov. "Admiral, please you must understand-"

Prolov grabbed Mennial by his uniform and pulled him forward before shouting. "Where is Fleet Admiral Kyvieer?"

Mennial pushed away from Prolov and laughed. "You don't understand, do you, Prolov? You have no idea of what you or your fleet have uncovered out there!"

"Perhaps you need a little persuasion," Prolov growled. He turned and gestured to one of the stormtroopers near the entrance. The trooper stepped out. Seconds later, a young Imperial Lieutenant stumbled inside. His hands were bound in front of him by the wrists. Gaping wounds on his young face oozed blood that dripped down onto his grey uniform. He peered at Mennial with widened blue eyes.

"Kayle," Mennial gasped.

"It's too late for me, father," Kayle Mennial said between quick breaths. "I told him everything."

Mennial glared at Prolov. "You have gone too far! My son has nothing to do with this!"

Prolov pointed a finger in Mennial's face. "Colonel Veriss and his team discovered your son had become the commandant of a concentration camp on Zyria Prime. The people held there were not soldiers. They were innocent men, women, and children. Civilians whose only crime were that they were citizens of the Galactic Empire, which you and your cohorts betrayed in the name of the Rebel Alliance. Your son personally oversaw the imprisonment, torture, and murder of those civilians."

Mennial huffed at Prolov's statement. "They are were casualties of war! Mere statistics! Decades from now, they will simply be numbers in a long-forgotten archive! Nothing more!"

"Was my wife and unborn child a casualty of war? A mere statistic in an archive destined to be long-forgotten?" Prolov asked as he glared at Mennial.

"My condolences," Mennial said with a roll of his eyes. "As for my son, he also accepts for his role in this. I ordered him at the threat of death to take the commandant's role in that concentration camp. The blood of those people is on my hands! And I also gave the order to the Alliance fighters to attack your wife's transport!"

Prolov's eyes narrowed. "And why would you do such a thing?"

"You were getting too close to uncovering the truth, Prolov! We did it to dissuade you from continuing your investigation!", Mennial replied as sweat trickled down his face. He paused and wiped his face clean. "The fault for all of this is solely on me! I deserve to die for this! Not my son! Send him to a hard labor camp for life! Make him suffer daily for his involvement! Take your anger out on me, if you must! But please go easy on the boy!"

Prolov nodded and turned towards a stormtrooper officer. "Captain Bullins, you heard the man. Go easy on the boy!"

Bullins stepped forward and fired a burst of automatic blaster fire into Kayle Mennial's chest. He convulsed as the bolts tore through his body before falling to the deck in a lifeless heap. Mennial screamed at the sight of his son's execution.

"You sadistic, bastard!" he shouted. "You'll never find Kyiveer, Admiral Prolov! He's too far ahead of you!"

Prolov shrugged. "An Executor-class Super Star Destroyer can't stay hidden for long. We will track him down soon." Prolov nodded towards Captain Bullins. "Bind his hands!"

"Listen, Prolov; there is great power beyond the dimensional gates!" Mennial exclaimed as the binders were snapped into place. "Kyiveer knew it after reading your report. He has seen it for himself! The rest of us have seen it! You would understand if you saw it too! Beyond the gates is an opportunity that would benefit you. You hunt down and eliminate rogues on both sides of the war. When this war is over, what purpose do you think the Empire will have for you? You will be a man without a country, without an ally! The power beyond the gates can give you better hope than that."

"Not anymore," Prolov said blankly. "We destroyed the gates before we came after you. And I've seen the so-called benefits. The gates were dangerous. Too many lives were wasted in defending that project, Mennial." Prolov turned his head to Captain Bullins. "Bring him out in the corridor."

Bullins shoved Mennial out of the doorway. Heavy smoke filled the corridor. Corpses of white armored Imperial Stormtroopers and officers littered the passageway. Several of Prolov's Stormtroopers walked among the dead, scanning each body for intelligence. Prolov paused in front of an airlock and pressed a control. The doors opened with a hiss of air.

"Put him inside!" he said as he glared at Mennial.

The disgraced governor's form rapidly moved into the airlock after a nudge to his rear from Bullins armored boot. Mennial stared back at Prolov.

"This airlock leads to nowhere, Prolov!", Mennial protested.

Prolov chuckled. "It will serve its purpose."

The doors closed quickly. Prolov stepped up to the controls and peered through the small viewport on the door. He pressed a button. Instantly, a stream of frigid air flowed into the airlock. Mennial began to shiver.

"Please, don't do this, Prolov! I'm freezing!"

"You'll thaw out," Prolov replied with a grimace. "...in Hell!"

He pressed another button. The outer doors slide open, revealing a black backdrop of shimmering stars. Mennial kicked uselessly as his form slid out of the airlock and tumbled into the vacuum of space.