Domus Publica
 |  |
Defender of the Empire
“We are here today to honor one who has served the Empire...”
Maarek Stele looked out across the sea of dignitaries and swallowed nervously. He resisted the temptation to fidget, to adjust his uniform
unnecessarily. An Imperial officer does not fidget, Senior Drill Instructor Gunnery Sergeant Stark had drilled into them countless times
during Officer Candidate School. It’s unseemly. Knowing Gunny Stark, that caustic-mouthed tyrant was probably watching right now. The
fact that Maarek now outranked him by a hefty margin — the most junior ensign officially outranks even the most senior sergeant major or
master gunnery sergeant — couldn’t stop him from tearing Maarek’s head off and doing various colorful things to his throat, as he had so
frequently threatened to do. To this day Maarek still gave a respectfully wide berth to any gunny or chief he might encounter aboard ship,
the fact that his rank was now directly equivalent to that of a full colonel notwithstanding.
So Maarek didn’t fidget. Instead, he stood at holo-perfect parade rest, his hands wedged at an unnatural angle in the small of his back, his
feet shoulder width apart, his eyes staring unseeingly straight ahead.
“Captain Stele, report to His Imperial Majesty as ordered!” the aiguilletted equerry called in his stentorian voice.
Maarek snapped to attention, and then marched straight down the corridor left open for him and him alone. He came to a halt in front of
the Galactic Emperor’s throne, brought his heels together sharply, and dropped to one knee. “Your Imperial Majesty,” he said crisply.
“Captain Maarek Stele, of your most faithful Navy, reports as ordered!”
The Galactic Emperor sat in his throne, wearing simple eremetic vestments. His skin was pale white, his face hidden by the shadows of his
deep cowl. There was nothing physically impressive about him at all. Yet his sheer presence was incredible — as though one could feel the
power of his intellect, the strength of his will. Simply to be near him was intoxicating. At one and the same time he inspired terror and awe.
“Rise,” the Galactic Emperor said. Maarek immediately did as he was told.
The Galactic Emperor slowly stood and walked forward to where Maarek waited at attention, while the fearsome Dark Lord of the Sith
followed behind him, holding a black velvet box.
The Galactic Emperor gestured to the equerry, who began to read the citation:
“His Imperial Majesty the Galactic Emperor, per the Imperial Decree of 17:6:4, has awarded the Emperor’s Will to Captain Maarek Stele,
Imperial Navy, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty: Captain Maarek Stele
distinguished himself by acts of gallantry and intrepidity beyond the call of duty in action with an armed enemy in Coruscant space, on 38:
6:24. On that day, Captain Stele pursued and defeated enemy fighters who had violently attacked His Imperial Majesty with intent to take
him prisoner. In total disregard for his own life, Captain Stele attacked and defeated a numerically superior enemy, being personally
responsible for the safety of His Imperial Majesty. His courageous actions helped defeat the enemy attack, and directly resulted in as
many as 20 enemy pilots killed, while allowing the safe recovery of His Imperial Majesty. Captain Stele’s extraordinary heroism and
uncommon valor are in keeping with the Navy Core Values of Service, Fealty, and Fidelity, and embody the highest traditions of the Naval
service, reflecting great credit upon himself, Heavy Attack Squadron 603 Alphas, and the Imperial Navy.”
While the equerry read this, the Galactic Emperor reached over to open the black velvet box Lord Vader held, and removed from it a
beautiful medal, attached to a ribbon collar, depicting a phoenix and the Imperial roundel. The Galactic Emperor took this medal in his
hands and gently looped the collar around Maarek’s neck. Maarek felt the blood rush to his face: The Emperor’s Will! The highest award
granted by the Imperial State; that was as much to say as the highest award in the universe. There were a hefty number of privileges
granted to any winner of the coveted Roundel-and-Phoenix — henceforth he would never salute another, but rather would always be
saluted first. He would never pay another decicred for a uniform article, all his uniform expenses henceforth to be paid from His Imperial
Majesty’s Privy Purse instead. Every time he entered a room, those present would be required to stand and applaud him.
“Your father is free,” the Galactic Emperor whispered. “And he knows that it is your excellence and your fidelity that has freed him. Just
as your excellence and your fidelity have freed me. You are a hero of the galaxy now, my young friend.”
Maarek swallowed. He had his doubts about the way the Imperial State ran its business — who didn’t? But here, now — the Galactic
Emperor himself was standing before him. Speaking to him and to no one else. His voice sent thrills of excitement down Maarek’s spine.
“Yes, my friend, I have watched your career with great interest,” he continued. “You have served me well, Maarek Stele,” he said, “and you
have earned my gratitude.”
“Th-thank you, Your Imperial Majesty,” Maarek managed.
“No, it is you who is to be thanked. And I have just the perfect thing to thank you,” he said ever so softly, his voice electrifying despite its
lack of volume. He smiled gently. “Yes, my young friend, I have such wonderful things to show you...”
Maarek Stele looked out across the sea of dignitaries and swallowed nervously. He resisted the temptation to fidget, to adjust his uniform
unnecessarily. An Imperial officer does not fidget, Senior Drill Instructor Gunnery Sergeant Stark had drilled into them countless times
during Officer Candidate School. It’s unseemly. Knowing Gunny Stark, that caustic-mouthed tyrant was probably watching right now. The
fact that Maarek now outranked him by a hefty margin — the most junior ensign officially outranks even the most senior sergeant major or
master gunnery sergeant — couldn’t stop him from tearing Maarek’s head off and doing various colorful things to his throat, as he had so
frequently threatened to do. To this day Maarek still gave a respectfully wide berth to any gunny or chief he might encounter aboard ship,
the fact that his rank was now directly equivalent to that of a full colonel notwithstanding.
So Maarek didn’t fidget. Instead, he stood at holo-perfect parade rest, his hands wedged at an unnatural angle in the small of his back, his
feet shoulder width apart, his eyes staring unseeingly straight ahead.
“Captain Stele, report to His Imperial Majesty as ordered!” the aiguilletted equerry called in his stentorian voice.
Maarek snapped to attention, and then marched straight down the corridor left open for him and him alone. He came to a halt in front of
the Galactic Emperor’s throne, brought his heels together sharply, and dropped to one knee. “Your Imperial Majesty,” he said crisply.
“Captain Maarek Stele, of your most faithful Navy, reports as ordered!”
The Galactic Emperor sat in his throne, wearing simple eremetic vestments. His skin was pale white, his face hidden by the shadows of his
deep cowl. There was nothing physically impressive about him at all. Yet his sheer presence was incredible — as though one could feel the
power of his intellect, the strength of his will. Simply to be near him was intoxicating. At one and the same time he inspired terror and awe.
“Rise,” the Galactic Emperor said. Maarek immediately did as he was told.
The Galactic Emperor slowly stood and walked forward to where Maarek waited at attention, while the fearsome Dark Lord of the Sith
followed behind him, holding a black velvet box.
The Galactic Emperor gestured to the equerry, who began to read the citation:
“His Imperial Majesty the Galactic Emperor, per the Imperial Decree of 17:6:4, has awarded the Emperor’s Will to Captain Maarek Stele,
Imperial Navy, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty: Captain Maarek Stele
distinguished himself by acts of gallantry and intrepidity beyond the call of duty in action with an armed enemy in Coruscant space, on 38:
6:24. On that day, Captain Stele pursued and defeated enemy fighters who had violently attacked His Imperial Majesty with intent to take
him prisoner. In total disregard for his own life, Captain Stele attacked and defeated a numerically superior enemy, being personally
responsible for the safety of His Imperial Majesty. His courageous actions helped defeat the enemy attack, and directly resulted in as
many as 20 enemy pilots killed, while allowing the safe recovery of His Imperial Majesty. Captain Stele’s extraordinary heroism and
uncommon valor are in keeping with the Navy Core Values of Service, Fealty, and Fidelity, and embody the highest traditions of the Naval
service, reflecting great credit upon himself, Heavy Attack Squadron 603 Alphas, and the Imperial Navy.”
While the equerry read this, the Galactic Emperor reached over to open the black velvet box Lord Vader held, and removed from it a
beautiful medal, attached to a ribbon collar, depicting a phoenix and the Imperial roundel. The Galactic Emperor took this medal in his
hands and gently looped the collar around Maarek’s neck. Maarek felt the blood rush to his face: The Emperor’s Will! The highest award
granted by the Imperial State; that was as much to say as the highest award in the universe. There were a hefty number of privileges
granted to any winner of the coveted Roundel-and-Phoenix — henceforth he would never salute another, but rather would always be
saluted first. He would never pay another decicred for a uniform article, all his uniform expenses henceforth to be paid from His Imperial
Majesty’s Privy Purse instead. Every time he entered a room, those present would be required to stand and applaud him.
“Your father is free,” the Galactic Emperor whispered. “And he knows that it is your excellence and your fidelity that has freed him. Just
as your excellence and your fidelity have freed me. You are a hero of the galaxy now, my young friend.”
Maarek swallowed. He had his doubts about the way the Imperial State ran its business — who didn’t? But here, now — the Galactic
Emperor himself was standing before him. Speaking to him and to no one else. His voice sent thrills of excitement down Maarek’s spine.
“Yes, my friend, I have watched your career with great interest,” he continued. “You have served me well, Maarek Stele,” he said, “and you
have earned my gratitude.”
“Th-thank you, Your Imperial Majesty,” Maarek managed.
“No, it is you who is to be thanked. And I have just the perfect thing to thank you,” he said ever so softly, his voice electrifying despite its
lack of volume. He smiled gently. “Yes, my young friend, I have such wonderful things to show you...”
| This site is for informational and entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement of any kind is intended. Star Wars and related materials are © Lucasfilm Ltd., which reserves all rights thereto. All original material is © Julius Sykes. Please do not use without permission. |
This short story was originally published in August 2005. It was republished on 31 January 2007.
Note that TIE Fighter: The Stele Chronicles shows that canonically it was Darth Vader and not the
Galactic Emperor who actually presented the Emperor’s Will to Maarek Stele, although the ceremony
was conducted in the Galactic Emperor’s presence.
Note that TIE Fighter: The Stele Chronicles shows that canonically it was Darth Vader and not the
Galactic Emperor who actually presented the Emperor’s Will to Maarek Stele, although the ceremony
was conducted in the Galactic Emperor’s presence.