A day in the life of Qwi Xux, designer of the Death Star's superlaser.
Notes
See end notes for warnings.
Imported from Archive of Our Own. Original work id: 58736236.
Qwi Xux woke with a start, just like she did most mornings. The sound of the standard alarm clock had been the start of every morning since she was ten, and it never got any less shocking to her sleeping mind.
She rolled out of her bunk, stretching on her way to her cramped ensuite. Qwi was not tall, only 155 centimeters, but even she could brush her fingers against her room’s ceiling. Each surface was durasteel, hiding the rocky nickel and iron protecting her from vacuum.
The young Omwati woman made her usual morning preparations in her small sanitary closet, a short daily ritual before the excitement of research.
She selected a shimmering green powder from her limited supply of makeup, and brushed it across her periwinkle cheekbones.
She looked at her crown of pearlescent plume feathers in the mirror. As a child they had been soft and downy, and their volume had been a point of pride. Now that she was an adult, more management needed to be done.
The plume tended to stick up after a night's rest, marking her out from the majority-human crew of the Maw Installation. Qwi slicked her crest back with a human pomade. She was the epitome of professionalism, not the Mermeia pin-ups in the stormtrooper barracks.
Donning her orange scientist's uniform last, Qwi Xux left her rooms for another day of developing weapons for the Empire.
Qwi arrived at the Maw Installation's central laboratory precisely when it opened for the morning. The facility was carved into an asteroid at the center of the stable zone of the Maw, a formation of 12 black holes in a discreet corner of the galaxy.
Even the collection of the Empire's brightest physicists stationed here could not explain what caused the Maw to form. The singularities could not have naturally formed so near to one another, but no force in the universe could move existing black holes anywhere.
There were few safe ways into the Maw, and fewer safe ways out. When she had flown to the installation alongside her mentor, one ship from their honor guard was lost, falling into an inescapable gravity well. Grand Moff Tarkin had simply put his hand on her shoulder and said to take it as a lesson.
For the 18 months since that day, she applied that lesson to her work: there is beauty to the natural destructive forces of the universe. The black hole isn’t cruel for its mass, nor the laser for its heat or the scientist for her curiosity.
The little island of stable space-time in the center of that chaos was home to four Star Destroyers, a few asteroids, a few test projects. The crown jewel of the Maw Installation was its very own Death Star prototype, a naked skeleton with only a reactor core, emitter dish and small bridge.
The scientists’ quarters and offices were on the largest asteroid, or rather, in the largest asteroid. Teams of Wookiees had hollowed it out under the direction of the on-site stormtrooper corps, purpose-building a perfect warren of caverns to conduct Imperial research.
As she made her way into the common area, she saw doctors Bevel Lemelisk and Umak Leth holding a fierce debate over cups of caf.
"Good morning, Scientist Xux!" Dr. Leth called. "Bevel was just foolishly declaring that no weapon in this galaxy could be more powerful than a supremely charged laser. Would you care to explain why he's wrong?"
Qwi laughed nervously. She was still junior in the laboratory — why would two scientists who had built weapons since the days of the Republic seek out her opinion?
"I would have to hear how Dr. Lemelisk describes his own argument before I could tear it down," she responded.
Dr. Leth winked, and handed her a mug of caf from behind Dr. Lemelisk’s back.
Dr. Lemelisk nodded seriously. "That's wise. You must understand your enemy to defeat them. My philosophy stems from the natural evolution of weaponry. Primitive species have rocks and sticks, uncivilized ones their slugthrowers, but the laser is the most refined weapon, and the only weapon worthy of our human Empire."
"Not just a human empire, Dr. Lemelisk," Qwi corrected.
"Of course, of course, I did not mean to offend," he replied, pale face flushing red. “I simply meant that a true understanding of optical technology is necessary to hold dominion over the galaxy.
Dr. Leth cut in. "But that is where you are wrong, Bevel! For our Empire's most ardent defenders do not fire lasers, but instead projectiles of superheated Tibanna gas. Your ideology blinds you to the realities on the ground."
"On the ground, you say," Dr. Lemelisk shot back. "Stormtroopers may yet be necessary, but aerial turbolasers are far more efficient."
Qwi nervously began to step toward her own office. "I would hate to get in the middle of this important debate," she said.
"Nonsense! You are not in the way at all. Which philosophy do you prefer?" Dr. Leth prodded.
"My specialty is optics," she started. "I would prefer to keep my job, so I would say refining lasers to be their very best is my end goal here."
Dr. Lemelisk laughed at that. "It seems you are bested by your very own reinforcements, Umak. Scientist Xux, I would love to speak to you later about your ideas for future refined lasers."
Qwi smiled. “Then I take my leave, Doctors.”
As she walked away, she could hear the discussion continue. You heard her, Umak. A hyperspace projectile is just inelegant, admit it, and We’ll see who’s inelegant when the terrorists knock down the door.
She shook her head. Scientists loved their abstract hypotheticals! Finally, she could begin her work for the day.
Tol Sivron insisted on never starting his day before 09:00 each morning. The Twi'lek project manager loved regaling the lab with tales of the long-since-banned trade unions of Ryloth, and their insistence on breaks they considered proper.
Qwi assumed Tol thought he was charming for it. Mostly, she just wanted faster responses to her relay messages.
The broad man took up his usual stance leaned up against her door frame. His pale grey lekku flicked through the air idly, expressing sentiments only other Twi’leks could understand.
With Basic, he announced his plans for his rest day. Considering it was the Maw Installation, they were limited to watching a holofilm after visiting the asteroid's only training facility.
"Would you want to join myself and some others?" he asked. "I know you only speak Basic, but these holos are wonderful even if you can't understand the songs. The dances, the stunts! Truly, you have not lived until you've watched a Twi'lek holofilm."
"Maybe," she demurred. "How long is the film supposed to run, again?"
"I haven't chosen one yet. No good holofilm runs under five hours," he answered.
Qwi laughed. "Maybe another time. I want to get this Project DS firmware update ready to push soon, I don't know if I have five hours."
Tol frowned into his caf. "It's a rest day. You’ll find your handbook is very particular about the positive impacts of proper rest on research."
"Somehow I knew you'd say that," Qwi joked.
He laughed and pulled out a chair, setting his mug of caf on her console. Wordlessly, Qwi lifted it and slid a coaster underneath.
"What is the rush on this update?" Tol asked, leaning forward in his seat. "DS is finished. Enjoy the victory."
"No project is ever finished," Qwi countered. "Not every problem is solved. I want my mark on the galaxy to be more perfect than... a simple superlaser.
Tol nodded. "I think I understand your dilemma."
"It's not a dilemma," she protested.
"Is this your first completed project?"
"Yes," she said. "My first project that wasn't part of my education."
"Well, that is the problem right there. You must know that your education is never finished, and this project is simply part of that continuation,” Tol said. “Minor flaws will take nothing away from your impact. So take your rest day.”
Qwi smiled. “Thanks for the advice. There’s no urgency for this update,” she conceded. “Any changes I push to the superlaser would still only be theoretical.”
Countless parsecs away, billions of beings had a far less theoretical experience of the Death Star's superlaser.
Qwi was interrupted from her work by a pale young man in a black uniform clearing his throat.
"Can I help you?" Qwi asked.
"The Admiral has invited you to lunch in her quarters," he said.
What could the Admiral overseeing the installation wish to speak to a scientist about?
"Did she specify a time?"
The ensign made a pinched face, glancing down the hall.
So it was an invitation not meant to be declined. Qwi chuckled. "Of course I am honored to dine at the Admiral's pleasure. I'll be just a moment," she said, shutting off her command terminal.
Qwi hurried after the officer down the hall and into the turbolift. As the doors shut, Qwi asked "Have you served the Empire long?"
The ensign straightened. "This is my first posting." Shyly, he added, "I've never been away from home so long."
Qwi smiled at him. "After a few years, it gets easier."
"Of course. How long have you served our great Empire?"
She had to count the years. "More than a decade," she finally settled on.
The ensign opened his mouth as if to respond before the lift doors slid open and cut him off. "Allow me to escort you to your shuttle."
He strode off through the wide hangar towards the line of Lambda-class ships. Qwi paused in the entrance.
"Are you coming?" he called back.
The words were lost. The space-side entrance to the hangar called to Qwi. Four of the maw's black holes were visible from this vantage, accretion discs shining bright. Jets shot out from a few, crossing the sky with beams of pure light.
The light of their home galaxy beyond warped behind each of the dark teeth, repeating ripples of its great arms, a fisheye lens on a reverse pinhole camera. The hypnotizing contrast of dark and light called her forward. Qwi stepped forward toward the invisible ray shield holding in the atmosphere.
Incandescent colors from the dust clouds feeding each singularity gave each surface in the hangar a red cast, with blue shadows in their wake. Those shadows stretched and multiplied, uncanny angles starting where feet and landing struts met the hangar surface.
TIEs on patrol and shuttles traveling between ships made their orchestrated movements in the darkness of space, all the more beautiful for the knife’s edge they danced on. One wrong move, and they all would be lost forever, forgotten by the wider galaxy.
"Scientist Xux!" the ensign called, frustration in his voice.
Qwi rushed to catch up. "I've spent most of my life in space, but there's nothing like this view."
The ensign smiled. "I understand. Come on board the ship, if you will. We can seat you in the hold."
It was probably for the best that she was placed in the windowless cargo hold prior to her meeting. Staring into the Maw for long could drive anyone to madness.
Qwi's shuttle landed on the Gorgon smoothly, navigating the little island between gravity wells with ease. Black holes weren't her specialty, but even an early student of physics could marvel at the singularities warping space in all directions. Whatever had caused the Maw to form must have been spectacular, she thought.
The ensign from before offered Qwi his arm and escorted her down the ramp. Behind them both, two stormtroopers prodded a team of Wookiees forward. Qwi hurried up her pace to avoid having to watch whatever violence either side might mete out.
Another short lift ride dropped Qwi outside the Admiral's personal offices. It wasn't proper to knock — when meeting with someone like an admiral or a moff, it was best to let them come to you.
Qwi didn't have to wait long. The Admiral's aide ushered her in, and sat her at an ornate dining table in a side chamber.
“The Admiral will see you shortly," they said, their clipped Coruscanti accent giving Qwi no clues about the upcoming meeting.
While she waited, Qwi looked around the room. On one wall hung a holopainting depicting shifting oceanic scenes, an isolated castle in the center of the frame. A small and intricately-patterned rug sat beneath the dark wooden table. Though it was long, only two chairs were placed around it — one for Qwi, one for the Admiral.
The door hissed open behind Qwi. She stood and turned to meet the newcomer: Admiral Natasi Daala, the only woman to achieve such a rank.
She stood tall, easily more than 15 centimeters taller than Qwi. Her dark auburn hair fell halfway down her forehead, with the hair on the sides of her head the same length, not cropped closely in the way that was common for human men. The curling tips almost hid a twisting keloid scar over her ear.
Qwi smiled nervously. She hated new introductions with no script.
Admiral Daala took the lead. "Thank you for coming to meet with me on such short notice, Scientist Xux. Please, have a seat," she said.
"Thank you for taking the time to host me today, Admiral," Qwi responded.
The Admiral smiled. "It is my pleasure to host a guest of such high esteem. Do you know why I wanted to meet with you today?"
“No, but I’m honored all the same,” Qwi responded.
The Admiral raised an eyebrow. “I see. Today is an auspicious occasion, Scientist Xux. Our mutual friend sent a message today. He successfully used the Death Star against two targets. I simply wanted to commend your efforts.”
Qwi flushed dark blue. “It was really more of a team effort, Admiral. I can’t take sole credit for this important success.”
“Of course it was more than just your efforts that led us to victory,” Admiral Daala placated. “But you made quicker work of the Death Star’s calibration issues than Lemelisk could in the 20 years he’s worked on it.”
Qwi could barely speak. She was entirely unused to effusive praise. Even Tarkin was never so obvious in his rare moments of pride.
Admiral Daala checked her military-short nails. “I believe you could have an extremely bright future under the Empire, Scientist Xux. Tell me, do you consider yourself a political being?”
“No,” Qwi said. “My work for the Empire is decidedly apolitical.”
“So you say,” Admiral Daala responded. “You truly see it that way?”
“Of course! Science doesn’t care about factionalism, of which sides get more support or favor,” Qwi explained. “Science simply seeks out the fundamental truths of the universe.”
Admiral Daala smiled. “So you wouldn’t say you support the Tarkin Doctrine?”
This was starting to feel like a test. Luckily, Qwi had made a career of being the most gifted test-taker in any room.
“I wouldn’t not support it, Admiral. The Grand Moff sponsored my education,” she said. “Without his doctrine, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
Admiral Daala nodded. “So in a galaxy where the Tarkin Doctrine was unnecessary, what would be your preferred use of the Death Star?”
Qwi bit her lip. “I suppose it would be its current use — the destruction of dead worlds to better extract their resources, or clear away unsafe orbit paths. I like to imagine it could turn a moonstrike into a harmless meteor shower, even.”
Admiral Daala snorted.
“Did I say something funny?” Qwi asked.
Admiral Daala looked up, eyes bright with humor. “You’re being serious right now?”
All Qwi could do was nod.
“I see why you say you're apolitical,” Admiral Daala said, with the tone of a joke.
Just then, Admiral Daala’s aide came in with two bowls of smoky meat served over ship-grown greens. They set the bowls on the table, served with three thin sticks as utensils.
Admiral Daala smirked over her first morsel of meat. “Roast bird. It’s my favorite.”
Qwi took a bite herself, and was brought back to meals shared with Tarkin at the end of educational periods. She said as much.
“I believe you and I might have very much in common,” Admiral Daala said, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “Tell me more about how Tarkin oversaw your education,” she commanded.
“I prefer to look toward my future, rather than my past,” Qwi tried to deflect. “But the intensive courses in mathematics are really what led me on my path here.”
“Of course,” Admiral Daala responded. “But you and I both know that while Tarkin is a great man, he’s no teacher. How, then, did he oversee your education?”
Qwi was transported out of Admiral Daala’s stateroom, and into a classroom orbiting Omwat. The questions were different, but the feeling was the same. With effort, she wrenched her thoughts back. No arcs of green lasers could punish stupid children here.
“I think he educated me in the same way any Imperial parent would. He encouraged me to succeed, and rewarded me when I did,” Qwi said. “That I had a better command of calculus than him didn’t lessen our relationship at all.”
Admiral Daala chuckled. “I suppose I’m glad you two were close. Do you feel like you need his support to advance your career here?”
Qwi shook her head. “I’m grateful for his mentorship, but I want to be judged based on what I know, not who I know.”
“Right. And who do you know, Scientist Xux?”
“Well, Tol Sivron, of course. Um, Doctors Lemelisk and Leth.” Qwi had to pause and think. “You. The officer who escorted me here.”
Admiral Daala looked faintly amused. “And what was his name?”
Qwi didn’t know. None of her childhood tests had prepared her for this. “Of course. His name. His name was… Ensign…”
Admiral Daala cut her off with a raised hand. “He would have been a yeoman, not an ensign.” She smiled with all of her teeth. “You have successfully convinced me of your lack of political ambition.”
Qwi took another bite of her charred bird meat.
Admiral Daala set aside her bowl. “Now, tell me more of your scientific ambition. What have you worked on in the past week?”
This, Qwi could handle. “I’m actually pulling together a firmware update for Project DS right now!” she explained excitedly.
“You’re still working on the Death Star.” It wasn’t a question.
“Of course! It’s nowhere near its end of life. This update should boost the superlaser’s charging times, and enable it to extend a single charge with multiple less-powerful blasts, able to destroy an asteroid, or a decommissioned capital ship,” Qwi elaborated. “Right now, it can take up to 24 hours for the superlaser to charge to its full capacity, so—”
Admiral Daala cut her off. “I just told you the Death Star works, and already you’re questioning its power?”
“No, not at all,” Qwi said, confused. “Project DS works, it’s just that there’s always room for improvement. Nothing is perfect.”
“Really?” Admiral Daala smiled. “Not even the Empire?”
Qwi shook her head. “Of course not the Empire. That’s why we’re here, right? To constantly strive to improve it?”
“You’re lucky you have me as a commanding officer, Scientist Xux. Those thoughts could get you into trouble at a more traditional posting.” Admiral Daala passed her bowl off to her aide, who had come back into the room silently. “Don’t bother sending that update. The infinitesimal strain on the signal repeater’s battery is more energy than your efforts are worth.”
“But—”
“You’re dismissed, Scientist Xux. I hope we meet again to discuss your future successes,” Admiral Daala said. “I would hate to see you for anything else.”
There was nothing more to say, after that. Qwi took her dismissal with pride, and held her face steady for the entire walk back to the hangar.
Kejandite: the pitted obsidian formed by the Death Star's laser striking rocky bodies at ⅒ power. Its composition was determined solely by the contents of its target.
Qwi wasn't particularly sentimental, but she had taken a shard from a test firing to wrap in wire and wear as a pendant. Tol Sivron had taken his share of the samples and had them melted and fused into a fruit bowl.
Qwi's mind turned to the substance as she sat in the return shuttle to her research station. What rocks would form from the debris from today's application? The ores from any given planet's crust were worth more than any rocky glass, but any asteroid mining operation could acquire them. This stone was unique.
With her work no longer necessary, Qwi wondered what form she would one day take. Would she waste away on this asteroid, using more resources than she could ever return, crumpling into just more space dust? Or would she flare out, reduced to nothing but glass, beautiful but useless?
Qwi longed for access to the scientific realities of the wider galaxy. Tarkin had taken her to her new home to solve this one problem. What would happen now that she had no more work to do?
Today’s meeting with the Admiral had been a test. It was the first test Qwi had failed in her entire life.
Qwi sat slouched at her console, staring into nothingness. The Admiral was correct in her estimations — project DS was complete. There was no point in polishing perfection.
Qwi had no more problems to solve.
She was at loose ends. She could focus so intensely when she got invested in a project she would forgo food and rest, but with no future ahead of her, that focus melted.
She tapped halfheartedly at the keypad, inputting nonsense code she would have to delete on a later day. Her bare office left no distractions beyond her code terminal.
Fortunately, a distraction came in the form of Tol Sivron at the door, leaving for the day. Before he could fully abdicate his responsibilities, he came to speak with her one last time.
"Qwi! How did your meeting with Admiral Daala go?" He asked.
Qwi looked up. It seemed the look was all the answer Tol needed.
"That badly?”
"She said Project DS was complete. That my services were no longer needed on it, that I should just give up now," she moaned.
Tol hummed. "That's what she said?"
"Yes!"
"Then she may be right. Supporting an existing space station is a waste of your talents. Do you foresee yourself pushing updates for the rest of your life?" he asked. "There are still mysteries yet to solve, but you are no longer a prodigy."
"I suppose," Qwi responded. "We know my work was successful."
Tol looked taken aback for a moment. "Project DS was used, then? How do you feel about that?"
Qwi gestured at her despondency.
"Did Admiral Daala share the name of its target?" he asked.
That was such a non-sequitur it made Qwi laugh. "Project DS isn't used on planets with names."
Tol seemed on the verge of arguing. "Regardless, those planets don't have names anymore," she interrupted.
He wordlessly conceded her point. "You may not be out of a job for much longer. I say you should still push that last update. Never waste good work."
“Even after the Admiral said not to?”
Tol waved a hand. “Bah! There is a reason she is up there commanding stormtroopers, and we are down here, getting real work done.”
Qwi gasped out a laugh.
“I do not joke!” Tol said. “If the emperor was a project manager, the galaxy would look very different.”
“Stop that!” she said, still laughing.
Tol calmed himself. “Qwi, your work is invaluable. It’s time you recognized it, and began acting like you knew it. Take this week to perfect Project DS, and bask in its perfection.”
"And after that?" Qwi asked.
"After that, I may yet reassign you. Dr. Leth is looking for collaborators on his next project, and he spoke highly today of your expertise."
Qwi looked up, eyes watery. “He did?”
Tol indulged her. “You stated your true thoughts today, your mind turned only to science and not politics. That’s useful in developing the tools of the Empire.”
“Thanks, Tol,” she said.
“Of course,” he said. “Rest well tonight. Tomorrow is a new day to continue your work.”
“I will. See you tomorrow,” she said.
Tol had already left her.
Qwi stood in an open-air market. All was quiet — a gentle breeze rustled short dry grasses stretching out in all directions but one, but no sounds of Human life could be found. No children ran free.
An Omwati man came out from an alcove and tried to speak to her. His tonal Alien language was disturbing — but more disturbing, Qwi could understand him perfectly.
Come inside , he said. Don't let them see you.
Qwi turned away and continued her walk down the street. Rocky hogbacks loomed, giving way to distant granite peaks. With each step away she took, the man became more frantic, stepping in front of her, trying to change her path.
You can't leave, girl . He reached for her arm. You can't let them take you!
Finally, the man stopped pleading. He stopped looking at her at all. His eyes were focused on the horizon behind her.
She turned around to see what he was so worried about. Above her head, in orbit, was the Death Star. Not the naked skeleton outside her window, but the real thing. Beautiful, she thought.
Though Qwi knew each step would not take her meaningfully closer, she walked toward it. An inviting perfect sphere, with only a parabolic dimple for its laser emitter. It was like Qwi had taken a bite out of it herself.
Its equatorial canyon had swarms of black TIEs landing, coming home to the nest. If she looked closely, she might even see staterooms for Tarkin, for Vader, for the Emperor himself.
A show of Imperial might, all the stronger for being downwind of it.
The slate-blue sky began to take on a greenish hue, like the storms of her youth, despite the lack of clouds. Odd .
Qwi turned her focus to the whole of the space station once more. Its amplifier lasers were powering up, meeting in the middle. Each one rayed out at the same angle, all pointed directly at Qwi. It was as if they knew their maker.
As the final beam came lancing through the atmosphere, Qwi could only think Some idiot kid up there must have failed the test!
When her vision cleared and she saw her simple room around her, she simply noted the time and rolled to her other side.
Qwi arrived at the laboratory at her usual time. Instead of Imperial order, she found chaos. In the early hours prior to her arrival, the entire lab had been tossed.
Broken and scattered datapads littered the floor. Dr. Lemelisk’s beloved caf brewer had been upturned, leaking soured grounds. Most shocking of all, Tol Sivron had arrived earlier than her.
He stood in the center of the maelstrom, commlink held tiredly in front of his face. Qwi paused in shock, somehow unable to understand the tinny Basic it emitted. Tol just hummed his assent to whoever it was on the other end of the line.
“If you would excuse me for a moment, Commander,” he said, placing his hand over the receiver before turning to her. “The Imperial Security Bureau would like to speak with you.”
Qwi was confused. “The ISB? Why do they care about me?”
Tol smiled. “You’ve done nothing for them to worry about. They’re already in your office,” he said.
Qwi walked back through the maze of hallways to her small office. When she arrived, she saw one agent leaning carelessly against her console, while another was boredly scrolling through its sliced contents.
“Good morning,” she said. “You wanted to speak with me?”
The first agent looked up, regarding her with the pale eyes that were so common in the Empire. “Scientist Qwi Xux, we really only have one question for you: how involved were you with the design of the Death Star’s exhaust system?” the man asked.
That was an odd question. “I wasn’t, officers. I just designed the last iteration of the superlaser honing system.”
The agent seated at her console pointed the other to something on the screen. The first agent nodded.
“Would you say Bevel Lemelisk was solely responsible for the exhaust system, then?” he asked.
Qwi shrugged. “I suppose? He signed off on the final schematics, and I believe beyond the skeleton the design is standard for Imperial ships.”
“Yes or no?” he pressed.
“Yes, I think.”
The second agent nodded his head to the first.
“Thank you, Scientist Xux, that concludes your questioning,” the first agent said.
She continued to stand in the doorway to her office.
The second made a shooing hand motion. “You’re dismissed,” he said, as if it was obvious.
Qwi smiled and nodded, making her way back to the disastrous common area. As she left, she heard them continue talking. Her schooling had long ago knocked out her desire to eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help her curiosity.
“How many more interviews do we have?” the first asked.
“Ugh,” the second said. “Five, perhaps more.”
One sighed. “You heard the alien. Lemelisk’s head was already slated for the block, and no one can leave after us anyway. Let’s just be done with it.”
Qwi began to walk away once more, hearing brighter tones and Drinks on Kubindi? and Meter-long mixed drinks, now we’re talking.
Finally, she reached Tol, still standing in the middle of the lab’s detritus. “Do you know what’s going on?” she asked.
He tilted his head to the side, lekku tips wiggling. “A bit. Dr. Lemelisk has had his security clearance revoked, while Dr. Leth will be working remotely from now on.”
“Oh.” Qwi stood. For some reason, all she could imagine was Dr. Lemelisk’s home city in flames.
“I do have brighter news about his proposed ‘World Devastator’ project — you will be his on-site coordinator while he works on other projects.” Tol leaned in conspiratorially. “Your star is rising in this Empire. You could even make a thesis out of it.”
Qwi laughed. “The agents asked about nothing besides the exhaust systems on Project DS.”
Tol closed his eyes mournfully. “Ah. That. I was told its wideness presented somewhat of a problem following its first few demonstrations. I trust you will be able to solve that particular problem during the development of Project DS 2.”
For the first time after a long, hard week, Qwi finally had clarity of purpose again.
Notes
Warnings: The Empire is a racist, genocidal, sexist and fascist organization. Qwi thinks a lot of callous thoughts about those hurt by the Empire more than her. Her backstory, having been removed from her home at a young age and trained to further the Empire's goals, can be an explanation for this, but not a justification. If you're familiar with her character, you probably know what's up. I went down a lot of weird rabbitholes for this one. If you're curious, shoot me a DM or just scroll through my backlog of posts.
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