After the unfortunate destruction of Grand Moff Tarkin's own personal holiday moon, the grand moff floated around for millenia, comfortably frozen solid.

When (much) later picked up and thawed by a small Amarrian war fleet of purely diplomatic intentions, his commanding presence and natural affinity for evil deeds awarded him with a somewhat new identity and a new body, fresh from the cloning tanks.

Today the moff thinks little of his past and enjoys a comfortable life on the outskirts of civilized space. He was early given the title of elder because of his backwards ways and absurd notion that everything should stay exactly the same, even though he himself possesses a mind completely new and alien to this part of space.

(It should be noted that the author of this short biography is entirely separate from the subject described and is nothing like him. Nor does the author enjoy the company of the moff overly much)