“This is Avalonia, Avalonia calling the Empire!” The warm, soothing voice of Kale Pitsmuth declared from his studio on Cloud City. “And by bloody hell we have a a lot of you joining us now,” He remarked to the literal billions now tuned into Radio Avalonia. “Once again this year it’s gonna be a year of surprises.” Hawk began, teasing his captive audience, “But I think this year, any of the contenders put forward could have been number one in this humble disk jockeys opinion.”
It was that time of year again, this years Radio Avalonia’s Top Twenty, a cultural institution for the peoples of the First Order. An annual ritual which united them. Regardless of profession, species or creed. It was the time of year where parts of the First Order Empire stopped, to see which of their favourite artists won the coveted number number one placing, and the substantial monetary prize for having captivated the hearts and minds of the people. For weeks, millions, if not billions placed their votes, from across Sieger Ren’s domain to make sure their chosen act won.
“As you may have heard earlier, we do have six box seat pairs of tickets to the Kings’ next concert in wherever you are in the Galaxy.” Pitsmuth informed the masses, “So if any of you fine folks have an interest in attending this event, which,” He began an aside, grin reaching from ear to ear, “I will say, will be hectic as hell, all you need to do when called upon, is name the next song in our countdown.” He then chuckled, “Simple as that.”
“But enough of that.” He jumped almost to attention, letting his voice slowly creep to a crescendo, “You’ve been waiting, we’ve been counting, let’s see who made it to number twenty.” Kale dutifully pressed a button on his switchboard, and leaned back in his chair, cleaving the mic from its stand, and lowering it towards his mouth, “And at number twenty,” He paused, and let the first few beats of a drum inform the audience, “We have Zarnathea, by Popo.”


Pitsmuth didn’t talk until the song had fully trailed off. As soon as a beat of silence had passed, the jockey was back at it, “That was honestly, one of my favourites of the past year.” He informed the crowd, “Perfect kind of song to get your work out on to, no?” He then let out a chuckle, “Now, lets see if we have any callers,” he paused, “And my producer is telling me the lines are clogged, by kark, you folk must be wanting them tickets.” Another short pause to insert laughter ensued. “Alright, lets take some of these callers.” There was an audible click, “Alright, you’re on Radio Avalonia.”
“Woo!” There was a distinctly feminine and excited scream, from across the line. Pitsmuth let out some raucous laughter in response.
“Hey, hey, let’s ease it up a little, eh?” He asked, “Don’t want to deafen everyone here with that.” He offered jokingly, “What’s your name hun?”
“Oh, oh I’m sorry.” The caller anxiously offered on the other line, “I’m Margey.”
“Well welcome Margey,” Kale continued, “Where abouts are you calling from?”
“Phu.” Margey replied, the sense of excitement emanating from her voice was nearly palpable. “Phu City.”
“Well Margey, it’s your lucky day,” The DJ continued, “You get to guess who number nineteen on the Avalonia Top Twenty is.” He then paused, “You get this right, you get two tickets to the Kings next show in your system.”
“Umm….” Margey paused, you could hear the tapping of a finger on her chin, “The Finale, by the Windows?” She offered.
Kale shook his head, “Aww, no dice babe.” Pitsmuth informed her.
“Chit!” Margey swore.
Kale chuckled, “Well, if it’s any consolation, Margey, you can do the throw to the next song.” Pitsmuth offered, “I’ll give you a clue, it’s by the Smash….” His voice trailed off.
“Should I go or should I stay?!” Margey from Phu screamed on the other end, “I knew it, I should’ve-!”
“Easy cowgirl,” Kale cautioned, interrupting her. His smarmy charm never leaving. “Throw the song.”
Margey paused, and swallowed, “This is Radio Avalonia’s Twenty Tops,” She fumbled over her words, “And number nineteen, is ‘Should I go or should I stay’ by the Smash.”
Kale laughed at her, “Thanks Margey,” He continued, “That was Margey from Phu City, and this, is the Smash.”
“Well, that was one helluva track there folks,” Kale smirked, “I have to say, it’s a real improvement from their earlier albums, and those boys from the Smash should be real proud of what they’ve done.” He paused, “Now, we still have six tickets in play, and we’re going to be taking another call right now,” The DJ continued, “Alright caller, you’re on Radio Avalonia, the voice of the people.”
“Hey Kale,” A male voice said, there was a gruffness to it. A distinctive warmth to it. “I just want you to know that your work, out here in the frontier. It is really some great stuff.”
“Aww, shucks,” Kale replied, “What’s your name flatterer? And where abouts are you?”
“Names Chuck,” The voice replied, “And I’m having my arse melting on Mustafar right now.” He offered with a chuckle.
“Well Chuck, here’s hoping that we can make that heat a little more bearable, with some tickets to the Kings.” Kale offered, “You just need to name number eighteen on Radio Avalonia’s Top Twenty.”
“Alright.” Chuck said, there was a pause, for a few seconds, “Would it be Great Western Land?”
Kale paused, his tongue now cleaved between two rows of perfect, pearly whites, “We’d need to have an artist with that me old boy.”
Chuck sighed, “Umm, that would be, by, Fire.” He then paused, before quickly adding, “Fireplain. Is it Fireplain?”
Kale chuckled, and pressed a button on his switchboard, a siren sounded, screaming “WINNER!”
“Congratulations Chuck, you’ve just won you and one lucky friend, tickets to the Kings’ Barkhesh concert.” Kale reported, “Now, please stay on the line while I transfer you to my lovely producers to get your details.”
“Aw, yeah mate!” Chuck whooped, “You bloody legend.” He added, laughing.
“Now Chuck, do you want to dedicate this song to anyone?” Kale asked.
“Oh yeah, the three twenty three stormtrooper legion.” Chuck said, “Becksly, Horace and Wulf, and the rest of the lads in sixth platoon.”
“You heard it here folks,” Kale began, “Fireplains, Great Western Land, dedicated to the men and women of the fighting 323[sup]rd[/sup].” Kale said.
As the song ended, the DJ emerged, “For a group named Fireplain, they sure have some cool tunes,” Kale offered, “Am I wrong?” He laughed a little, and then allowed another pause, “Now,we here at Radio Avalonia still have seventeen more tracks to go before we finally get to the big, number one.”
“And before we get into our next track, just a reminder, we have five prizes for guessing our next song.” The DJ informed the adoring public, “However, according to my producers, our lines are just about jam packed, so you’re going to have to be quick on the draw to get more tickets to the next Kings concert in your sector.”

“And now, we’re going to be taking our next, hopefully lucky, caller.” Kale continued, pressing the button, “Caller, you are now on Radio Avalonia, going out to four trillion lucky folk across our fine Empire.”
There was a mighty cheer from the other side, a chorus of voices erupted at once. “We love you KALE!” One particularly shrill voice screamed.
Kale burst, bruying his heads in his hands, “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a party on our hands,” He mused, as he stifled his laughter, “You folks there enjoying the list so far?”
Another wall of noise broke through their comms unit, which Kale immediately had to counter, turning down the noise. The last audible sound was a raucous male voice bellowing a mighty “KARK YES!”
“Good to hear, good to hear,” The DJ continued, a warm, yet condescending voice, attempting to shepard them, “Now, now, only one of these prizes is up for grabs, so we’re going to need to have one of you answer the question.”
There was a pause, and for several moments, bickering broke out, until one, dominant, feminine voice broke through, “I’ll take it.” She barked. She held an authoritative tone, however, the slurring of her words indicated she had been enjoying her time just as much as her compatriots.
“Good-o, good-o.” Kale began, “Just before I ask you what number sixteen on Radio Avalonia’s Top Twenty is, can I have some names, and where you’re from.”

There was a girlish giggle from the other end, “I’m Louise,” The voice on the other end, “And with me,” She pulled away from the mic, her voice trailing off something awful, “And with me, I’ve got, Boggs, Rupe, Jay and…” She paused, “And uh, Creigh.” She then paused, “Where abouts are we?”
“Mephout!” A boisterous voice shouted, before he was engulfed in another chorus of riotous laughter.
“Yeah, we’re on shore leave.” Louise continued, stumbling over slurred syllables.
Pitsmuth smirked, “See folks, our ladies and gents in the services can have just as much fun as the rest of us.” He then returned his attention to the task at hand, “So, Louise, what do you think is on number sixteen of the Radio Avalonia, Top Twenty?”
“Ahhhh….” Louise awkwardly hummed, “Ummm, what about… Streets of our Town, by the uh…” She again let her voice trail off.
“Clock’s ticking Louise.” Kale politely nudged her.
“InBetweens?” Louise offered.
The host clapped his hands, and the “WINNER” siren began to play. Louise squealed with joy, applause filtered through the mic between her squeals, and sharp inhales of air.
“Congrats Louise, just stay on the line with our producers, and you and one lucky person will be headed to the next Kings concert.” Kale warmly began, “And you get to throw to our next track, so, Louise, do you have anyone you want to dedicate this to?”
Louise audibly licked her lips, “I want to give this out to Todd, I love you babe!” She screamed, “And then, uh, the boys!” A cheer from her compatriots swelled, “And finally the rest of the crew of the Aggression, you guys, karking rock!”
Pitsmuth too descended into laughter, “Well, you heard it here folks,” He said, laughter, and a smile afflicting his every syllable, “That was Louise, giving props to her lucky man Todd, and the FIV Aggression.” He paused, “Streets of our Town, up next.”

“You have to admit, there’s nothing quite as homely as a nice smooth beat, and a little remembering about where we all come from.” The DJ then moved closer to the mic, “Unfortunately, for Louise, she didn’t stay on the line before we could get her details,” He continued, “But fortunately for the rest of you, we still have our five prizes. Each being a pair of box tickets to the Kings next concert.”
“Now, we move onto our next caller.” Pitsmuth continued, “Just remember, one of you lucky folks out there, can be the ones to score yourselves front row tickets to hit band, the Kings’ next concert, in your sector of our great Empire.” The familiar click of the button turned on, “Alright caller, think you can name us number fifteen on Radio Avalonia’s Top Twenty?”

“Sure as hell do Kale,” The voice on the other end snapped in reply.
“Ooh, I love the confidence coming from you,” The DJ complimented, accompanying the comment with a chuckle. “Tell me, where abouts are you from, and who you are?”
“Gerog.” The man on the other end replied, “And I’m currently enjoying the sun and sights on Thakawa, with the family.”
“Holiday?” Kale inquired.
“Yes.” Gerog confirmed, “Little family getaway. Me, my wife, and my boys are having a nice, relaxing break from the rush and bustle of Dosuun.”
“Aha, of course, of course.” Pitsmuth replied, nodding his head, “Are your sons big fans of the Kings?”
Gerog let out a laugh, “No, no. The wife is though.” He warmly continued, “Its for her birthday, hopefully.”
Kale smirked, and chuckled with the man, “Naturally, naturally. Well Gerog, here’s hoping you get your special woman those tickets,” The DJ coolly began, “Can you name us number fifteen on Radio Avalonia’s Top Twenty?”
“Number fifteen?” Gerog scoffed, with a nervous laugh, “That’d have to be Fly Me to the Sun by Han Fridacci.”
“Ooff, so sorry Gerog,” Kale began, “That is not number fifteen,” Pitsmuth informed him, “Number fifteen is Walk Like a Yalaran, by the Shingles.”

“Ahhh poodoo,” Gerog responded, somewhat despondently, “Well, cheers for that.”
“It’s alright, would you like to give any shout outs or dedications before this song?”

“Ah, sure.” Gerog sheepishly began, “A big hand to Ralph, Bee, and Liza. And also Uncle Alf.”
“Thanks Gerog, sorry for the bother, here’s hoping you find something else for the missus,” Pitsmuth then turned his attention to his listeners, “Alright, that was Gerog, and this is, Radio Avalonia’s Top Twenty. Number fifteen, Walk Like a Yalaran by the Shingles.”

“Well ladies and gents, hold onto your seats, and get yourselves comfy, because my dear producers have told me we’re going to need to head to a commercial break.” Pitsmuth informed his listeners, “The Top Twenty will continue on the station that never stops pumping, Radio Avalonia. Right after these messages.”