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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Claudia Gray
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September 15 - September 25, 2025
(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.)
“Everybody knows it was the Senate that steered the galaxy into civil war before the Emperor established order again. Why would anyone take the peace we have now for granted?”
Ciena whispered, “Someday, once we’ve made it to the academy—I’m going to show her the stars.”
Our students are meant to become citizens of the Empire. To think of themselves as patriots and soldiers first. Can you stop thinking of yourself as a native of your home planet and begin thinking of yourself as an Imperial first? An Imperial only? Can you accept that protecting and serving the world you came from is best accomplished by strengthening the Empire to which it belongs?”
“Sounds rough. On Alderaan, people are encouraged to learn and grow. All education is free, and people volunteer to teach various skills or crafts just for fun. Of course, someday the entire Empire will be like that.” Thane laughed, which made Nash frown. “What’s so funny?” “You, thinking the whole galaxy can turn into starshine and flowers, all because of the Empire.” “That’s what the Empire is for, isn’t it?”
“And yet you don’t seem excited—not about meeting girls, at least. That means one of two things. Either you’re interested in men instead—which I doubt, given your reaction to that risqué holo of Ved’s—” The curse of fair skin was that even the faintest blush stood out.
Although the official information channels spoke of building projects, successful trade negotiations, and endless economic prosperity, he knew that shine was mostly gloss. The Empire built new bases to solidify its control. Its “trade negotiations” always seemed to result in the Empire’s getting everything it wanted on terms that couldn’t possibly have benefited the planet in question. And as for the mood of the populace, even the official information channels had begun spitting venom about a small group of terrorists who plotted evil and called themselves rebels.
Ciena wondered whether their leaders would ever take responsibility for the horrible measures necessary to stop this rebellion—this war—before the entire galaxy had been plunged into chaos. Probably not. The Rebellion had started this. Even provoked it. Ciena felt better now that she understood whom to blame.
We killed billions of people. We slaughtered billions, and afterward we were expected to applaud.
“Listen to me,” Ciena said. “As crazy as things are, we’ll be together again. I don’t know where or when, but it’s going to happen.” “It will,” he answered, brightening. “No matter what, I’m going to find you.”
He’d followed the path that led from there, and where had it taken him? Now he flew ships only to frighten people, in the name of an Empire that slaughtered entire worlds. If he could go back, would he have the strength to choose a different path? Do I have the strength to do that now?
The creature’s weakness lanced Thane through, especially because there was nothing he could do. Absolutely nothing. Not against an entire garrison of stormtroopers. He had to just stand there and watch, and know his part in the evil he beheld.
Every single program was Imperial propaganda of some kind or another: a documentary ostensibly about the Empire’s successful “building programs” on Thurhanna Minor (really enormous power facilities that squatted over once-pretty countryside) was broken up by recruiting calls for stormtroopers (“Discover adventure and serve your Empire!”) or news items about Emperor Palpatine receiving guests as he smiled and nodded. Worst of all was an ad for a special report scheduled to air soon, in which the “full extent of the treasonous acts of sedition on the planet Alderaan will finally be exposed!”
“No. I understand the thinking that led to the attack on Alderaan—but I don’t condone it. The thing is, I don’t have to.”
“So two billion people died in vain,” Thane said. “And nearly a million aboard the Death Star.”
The Empire didn’t deserve her, yet it had her in its grasp forever. She didn’t remain a part of the Emperor’s machine because she was ambitious or corrupt. No, the Empire had found a way to use her honor against her. The strength of her character was the exact reason why she would remain in the service of evil.
So it wasn’t that surprising when one of the transport pilots mentioned that they’d brewed a little engine-room hooch. Making jet juice was one of those things the brass officially banned but in fact turned a blind eye to as long as neither the manufacture nor consumption interfered with duty.
He’d joined the Rebellion to take down the Empire and remained unmoved by all those starry-eyed notions of the New Republic to come. Just because he thought the next galactic government would be better than the Empire didn’t mean he thought it would be good.
Yes, Alderaan had been destroyed first as a gambit to end the war before it began, and that gambit had failed. But that was one space station, one planet, one terrible day. The rebels’ attacks on Imperial ships and bases had never ceased, as if they could not spill enough blood to slake their thirst.
“Good people can start to serve the Empire. But if they stay, they stop being good. You do one thing you thought you’d never do—follow one order that makes you feel sick inside—and you tell yourself it’s the only time. This is an exception. This isn’t the way it’s always going to be.”
It’s only Jelucan, the result of one dishonest governor. Higher officials don’t know the truth, because if they did, they’d take action. So Ciena told herself. But even within her own mind, the rationalizations sounded so laughable that she could not believe them, much less speak them aloud.
The appearance of fairness mattered more than the reality.
Thane said, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
No other reason could ever justify the destruction of an entire planet, or the deaths of billions of people. Only by restoring galactic peace could the Empire redeem those deaths. But now more worlds would be destroyed for no reason—except to cause pain and fear.
Instead, this would incite more people to join the rebel cause. This wouldn’t end the war; it would intensify it beyond all imagining.
“I can’t believe they did it this soon. How long does it take to construct one of these? They must have started right after the Battle of Yavin. Good for them.” Ciena refused to believe she’d heard that right. “…good for them?” “Well, we had to rebuild the Death Star. I mean, come on!”