Chapter Text
If you read my other works, then you know that I’m a total Parck fangirl. However, I’ve always imagined that he had changed from a devout Palpatinist to an enlightened Imperial thanks to Thrawn. In the original Mist Encounter, written from Parck’s POV, he sees Thrawn as a mere means to accomplish his goals.
Back then, Zahn wrote (direct quote):
"Sir, I strongly suggest you reconsider this," Barris said, his voice soft but urgent. "The Emperor will never accept this-this creature."
Parck smiled to himself. No, the Emperor did not in general think very highly of non-Humans... but there were some net secret exceptions. Such as the aliens Darth Vader had discovered on a ruined world and recruited into private service to Palpatine. The commander of Vader's ship on that mission-a cousin of Parck's and a former rival at the Academy-had been promoted to Vice Admiral for his part in that encounter.
Maybe Parck had finally found a way to match him. Or even to pass him up. "Have we an agreement?"
"The risk is worth taking," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. "I will come speak with your Emperor."
Parck smiled, a warm sense of satisfaction flowing through him. He had his prize now, all right. A far better prize than the petty and totally insignificant smuggler still hiding on the planet below. "Excellent," he said.
And ever since the Canonical version replaced Parck’s POV with Eli’s, and dropped the mention of the Noghri or Parck’s cousin, I’ve felt that Parck’s dare to bring Thrawn to the Emperor makes absolutely no sense.
So I came up with a different reason why Parck would be interested in bringing Thrawn to the Emperor (since Outbound Flight happened in Canon, even if it's called "Unidentified Lesser Space starship" for now), and with my own theory as to the identity of the said cousin. I mean, just look at them:
Young Parck, official Mist Encounter illustration
vs
They’re totally related. It’s been my headcanon ever since I’ve seen the Bad Batch for the first time. “That guy looks like Parck’s evil twin. And what a delicious asshole he is.”
And since I’ve always thought that Legends!Parck changed thanks to Thrawn, now that Parck got replaced with Eli Vanto in Canon and never remained associated with Thrawn’s rapid rise in rank…
Well, in my mind, Canon!Parck turned into this:
As I poured myself another round of the green, most volatile syrspirit this Force-forsaken hellhole had to offer, I looked out of the viewport into the nothingness of space and wondered what went wrong.
It was the combination of coincidence and my own ambition.
I was a soldier, like my father and my grandfather before me.
And my cousin, Vice Admiral Edmon Rampart.
For it was he, not I, who had received the praise from my father and grandfather; Edmon had graduated at the top of his class and his name appeared on many trophies in the halls of Corulag Military Academy.
Until he became involved with the infamous Clone Force 99, also known as the Bad Batch, which led to his fall from grace, and ended in public disgrace, imprisonment, and death.
Corulag Military Academy quietly removed all his trophies as well as all mentions of his name. It was as if Edmon Rampart had never existed.
Had they removed all mentions of my name as well?
I do not know.
Still, I have to admit that seeing my cousin’s existence erased from history brought a sense of satisfaction. Because unknown to the rest of the family, he was a piece of nershift.
The worst kind of bully.
One I was determined to beat and then smear his face in all that nerfshit, even if it resulted in my own downfall.
And it certainly did.
I put the glass down and removed the rank plates from the chest, looking at the red and blue squares.
Rear Admiral Voss Parck.
His Majesty certainly had a sense of humor.
Babysitting a bunch of religious fanatics, who kept worshiping the so-called the Dark Side of the Force in the middle of nowhere could be called anything but a read-end duty.
Palpatine chose a fitting rank for me.
For a long, long time I had blamed Thrawn. The alien warrior, whom I had presented to the Emperor as a gift, and whose full name was… I don’t even remember. I just call him Myth’raw’etcetera these days.
People never understood how I could be so bold and daring to bring such a savage into the Throne Room, considering the COMPNOR’s anti-alien sentiments, which Palpatine supposedly shared, but then they don’t know the full story.
Only I do.
And I am bound by secrecy.
For there are worse things than death, especially when the Dark Side of the Force is involved.
It all began with the project Outbound Flight. I had been a mere ensign back then, serving aboard one of the ships given to Palpatine’s aide, Kinman Doriana. Taking into the account the sheer amount of firepower he had been given, Doriana expected a quick, easy victory.
Instead, he had been bested by a blue-skinned, alien warrior, who had brutally decimated the entire Trade Federation Task Force.
And while he and I had never met back then, from the way the alien warrior had bested me and Barris on the nameless rock he had been exiled to, I immediately realized that it had to be the person who had made quick work of Kinman Doriana’s forces.
If only I could bring him back to Coruscant with me.
His Majesty would love such a gift.
If only to take revenge.
And who knows, perhaps it could result in a promotion, thinking that I finally found a way to match Edmon. Or even to pass him up.
That was the reason why told Cadet Eli Vanto to serve as Thrawn’s interpreter and aide.
If Thrawn was under the assumption that he would be welcomed by the Galactic Empire, he would come willingly, and I did not need to fear for my ship. For I knew that if I revealed my true intentions, Thrawn would have easily killed everyone aboard.
Imagine my surprise when I brought him into the Throne Room, and listened to their exchange. Not only was the Emperor not interested in revenge for destroying Doriana’s task force, he had offered Thrawn a commission in the Imperial Navy.
Then he promoted me to the rank of Rear Admiral and told me that he had a perfect task in mind for the man of my talents. Which turned out to be baby-sitting a bunch of Sith Cultists on Exegol, an inhospitable world with autonomous, Dark Side-fueled shipyards that continued to spit out a secret armada of star destroyers.
I let out a small chuckle at the irony, placed the rank plates on the table next to the bottle of alcohol, and poured myself another round of the most volatile syrspirit this Force-forsaken hellhole had to offer.
What a twist of fate.
THE END