Outer space can be undeniably cold and desolate. A deep infinite black with millions of stars that are nothing more than luminescent points whose light travels millions of light years across the galaxy. However, in a secluded spot on the Outer Rim, deep within the Seswenna Major sector, was a small flotilla of a pair of Imperial cruisers. One of the jewels of the imperial navy, and without a doubt, one of the most recognized, the cruiser El Soberano patiently navigated at sublus speed in that calm void.

Those who heard that name could know perfectly who owned such a machine of destruction and death, since its officer on board was recognized in every corner of the galaxy. It was none other than the great Moff Wilhuff Tarkin himself. A genius among geniuses for battle, with a cold and calculating mindset. One of the most feared officers in the empire, and without a doubt, the one who had the greatest confidence in the emperor himself.

The great Tarkin sat in the Sovereign's captain's chair, his right leg resting on his left knee. His perfectly straight pose, his vertebrae perfectly aligned. His left hand pounded on his table unconditionally, something he used to do when he was deep in thought. His right hand lightly brushed his lips, while his thumb scraped his sharp chin. His almost white light blue eyes did not see what was next to the front. His gaze was simply lost in a horizon that only he could appreciate.

Then, the doors of the command post opened, taking the great Moff out of the kind of trance he was in, focusing his gaze on a young man in whom he had a particular interest. The young man, as strict and upright as he was, approached without hesitation until he was a few steps from Tarkin, then he knelt before his figure.

Cress: - I have responded to your call, Grand Moff Tarkin. Just as ordered. -

Tarkin: - Welcome, newly appointed Vice Admiral Cress. His achievements on Felucia have been applauded throughout the Empire. I must say that I have even been surprised that such feats have been achieved by someone so young. -

Cress: - Your words cannot fill me with more joy, great Moff. My admiration for you knows no bounds. -

Tarkin: - Flattery won't do you any good, boy. But let's not talk about it for now. I want a full account of what happened on Felucia. -

Cress: - On order, Grand Moff. -

Admiral Cress used the holo-projector table to explain everything to Tarkin while showing recordings of the battlefield. They depicted the stiff resistance displayed by the Felucian natives and the separatist remnants that were still inactive.

Cress: - (...) We have secured control over the planet. Although there are still some smaller foci that resist being subdued. We finally captured what seemed to be their leader, a Felucian by the name of Casiss, who has been "uncooperative" in revealing the rest of the resistance's positions. Still, we have recognized that this individual did not have the necessary capabilities to lead a resistance on a global scale. That's when we were able to identify this. -

Cress pressed a few buttons, and the blurred form of Icarus was shown, from when he joined the battlefield to rescue Tova.

Tarkin: - Is that...? -

Cress: - A super tactical droid. We still don't know why it's active. -

Tarkin: - Those droids were smarter than they looked. I wouldn't be surprised if one or two refused to surrender when they received the order six years ago. Although it may well have been rescheduled. -

Cress: - We discovered that this droid was interfering with our communications, hence the reason why we couldn't identify it until this point in the battle. -

Tarkin: - Strange. Can you know the reason why he made such an appearance? -

Cress: - We don't know for sure, but everything seems to point to this. -

The admiral presses other buttons, and the scene where Icarus meets Tova is shown.

Tarkin: - Two clone armors and... what are those? -

Cress: - They are a Lurmen and a Nelvaana, sir. -

Tarkin: - I thought that both species had been... "eradicated." -

Cress: - We do not know the origin of both individuals or their identities. -

Tarkin: - I'm not surprised. And who are those clones? -

Cress: - Clone intended for the transport of prisoners. Also known as Boil. Former member of the 212th Corps of the Galactic Republic Army. He was believed dead after a rebel attack intercepted one of the Imperial prisoner transports. -

Tarkin: - Well, it doesn't seem so dead. Who is the other? -

Cress: - CC-5052. Also know as... -

Tarkin: - Yes. I remember that one. I used to be in charge of the 327. -

Cress: - Correct sir. - Tarkin let out a tired sigh as he slumped back in his seat.

Tarkin: - He always knew that these clones would be a big problem. Humans created in laboratories. What a stupid thing! Despite having commanded them for 3 years. I never felt very comfortable with those lab experiments hanging around. -

Cress: - I thought the Empire had a "retreat program" for these... individuals. -

Tarkin: - Politics, young man. The worst war of all. -

Officer: - Sir, he has already arrived. -

Tarkin: - Right on time. As usual. Come with me young man There is someone who wants to see you. -

Tarkin got up from his chair and walked stoically alongside the young man and headed for the corridors of the ship. Cress followed close behind, albeit a little nervous, which he managed to hide pretty well with his expressionless face. Both officers walked to one of the Sovereign's hangars, where an Imperial T-4a shuttle was slowly landing.

Cress: - Grand Moff... What is happening? - He asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

Tarkin: - Patience is one of the most important qualities for an officer. Admiral. -

Cress: - Excuse me, great Moff. -

Tarkin: - It's okay. Making mistakes is natural at that age, so you must learn to control those impulses. So you will meet your new superior. Maybe you will learn something useful from him. -

Cress watched in astonishment as the T-4a's landing platform slowly lowered, white smoke from the ship's decompression billowing through the area. A slender silhouette was shown behind the spotlights, which did not allow the young admiral to see who it was. It began to slowly descend, its heavy footsteps echoing on the metal underfoot. And only when he was close enough, could he define who it was.

Thrawn: - Nice to see you again. Grand Moff Tarkin. -

Tarkin: - The pleasure of receiving you is mine, High Admiral Thrown. -

Thrawn: - So... Is this the young man you told me about? -

The Chiss's red eyes locked on the young man's innocent gaze, causing even his stoicity to falter for a moment. There was something about this being that seemed like nothing Cress had ever experienced before. As if he was able to see through him just by looking at him. All her longings, all her goals, all her ambitions had been laid bare before those scarlet eyes.

Tarkin: - High Admiral, this is Vice Admiral Cress. He will join their ranks from now on. I trust it will be very useful in your future conquests. -

Thrawn: - As ordered. - He responded while giving him a military salute. - Vice Admiral, pack your things. We will leave immediately. -

Cress: - S... Yes... sir. - He responded nervously.

The young man soon returned to his small office at the Sovereign to collect his things while Thrawn and Tarkin remained on the platform discussing various topics related to the conquests of the rim worlds and the different revolts throughout the galaxy. Conversation that they decided not to continue when Cress returned to the platform.

Cress: - To... All set, sir. -

Thrawn: - Very good. We will leave immediately. Until the war brings us together again. Grand Moff. -

Tarkin: - Good luck, High Admiral. -

Thrawn and Cress boarded the shuttle, and it immediately departed for the Chiss armada. They both sat in the back of the ship, facing each other. Thrawn kept his head down, resting on his hands in a thoughtful position. On the other hand, Cress was doing her best to keep her nervousness in check, even though there were several beads of sweat on her face that said otherwise. He was clinging to the briefcase that contained all his documents, when that intense gaze of the Chiss focused on his figure again.

Cress could feel a terrifying aura choking him. For a few seconds he even thought that the Chiss himself was going to kill him at that precise moment. Then Thrawn spoke.

Thrawn: - Vice Admiral. - The young man reacted with a little contained jump. - From this moment you will be in charge of an imperial cruiser. The Untamed. Along with everything it contains. You will operate as a separate force from the fleet, but you will always respond to my command. Have I been clear? -

Cress: - S... Yes, sir. It is quite an honor... sir. -

Thrawn: - It's not a compliment, Vice Admiral. It's a test. Fail and it will be your last mistake. Understood? -

Cress: - S... Yes... sir. His voice suddenly trailed off after the Chiss's comment.

Meanwhile, inside the Sovereign, the great Moff Tarkin was making a holo-call with what would be the most powerful living being in the entire galaxy at that time.

Tarkin: - My lord, I have carried out your task, as ordered. -

Palpatine: - Very good, great Moff. Still, I feel some frustration in your words. -

Tarkin: - If you allow me, my lord. Should we really trust that... alien? - The sith lord laughed a little.

Palpatine: - Times change, great Moff. And the future must be cemented long before the clock marks our fall. I feel a strong admiration for you from the young man... Don't you think so? -

Tarkin: - If that's the case... Why didn't you let me teach it? -

Palpatine: - Because you two are two drops of water. And I know that eventually you will grow fond of the boy. But Thrawn won't show him any mercy. The relays must know fear... so they never forget their role in the galaxy... -

Hey. If you are in doubt about all the military ranks of the empire, or some character positions sound strange to you, I want to remind you that this happens even before Star Wars Rebels. Which means they haven't yet reached the ranks they hold in Canon or Legend.