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Governor's Gambit - Star Wars SI into Imperial Governor
- Thread starter Freefaller
- Start date
Yacov
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2021
- Messages
- 642
- Likes received
- 11,469
The Guild being important enough to also take place in the capital city of the Sector capital world is also an achievement.
Other Guild leaders: "Oh Force! The entire Mid Rim is descended into full blown war!"
Las: "Ugh. This is so inconvenient."
Poor Garp getting the "Why aren't you doctor yet?" talk.
Why do I get the feeling the Guild and the Myto sector is going to get more support from Muunilinst banks going forward? It must be a surprise to have an Imperial leader that they can actually talk to. Not to mention Las' excellent use of credit. He's practically a banker's dream client by current standards given they had been working with characters like the CIS and Palpatine up to this point.
Las is going to be heralded as an economic and strategic genius by those in the know isn't he?
Knowing your subordinates passions and the people under you well enough to recognize their art pieces is one heck of a good boss signal.
By the Void we have fashion power armor now. Somehow it is going to make as much money as the combat power armor. I can hear the Tapani Nobles screech for it from here.
Blackswordzero
Getting sticky.
- Joined
- Jul 19, 2020
- Messages
- 89
- Likes received
- 857
Your sacrifice will be remembered.
Omake: J-0 Tough Droid
Yacov
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2021
- Messages
- 642
- Likes received
- 11,469
Omake: J-0 Tough Droid
Production Information
Manufacturer: Guild of Commerce, Production and Protection
Class: Labor Droid and Sentry Droid
Degree: class five droid
Cost: 2,800 credits new
——
Technical Information
Height: 1.75 meters
Sensor Color: Green
Plating Color: Cast Iron Black
Equipment:
Description
"Cybot is making millions supplying the shipyards. Why don't we get in on the action?" - Recording of a Guild meeting before Project Tough was green lit.
The Guild J-0 Tough Droid is a cheap, but rugged class five droid. Initially produced by the Guild to take advantage of the deluge of orders for droids by the Mindan government for its shipyards. However, the Guild decided against trying to produce a more costly maintenance droid and compete with the procurement contracts of larger corporations. Rather, the Guild aimed to design a general purpose labor droid to play up local pride and low logistical costs to snatch up some of the smaller contracts.
Design
"Oh frak, I think that bot broke my nose. It won't stop bleeding."
"You got in a fight with something that had solid metal for arms. What did you expect?" - two former patrons of Figpa's Cantina after antagonizing the owner and their J-0.
The J-0 Tough Droid was designed to be cheap and competent muscle whether that be labor or melee. The J-0 was primarily made of cast iron, copper, bronze, aluminum, and small amounts of steel. While unable to stand up to blaster fire or arm wrestle a Wookie, those metal limbs can still bring most unarmed sentients to the ground.
A combination of a medium sized battery and low energy components allow the J-0 to operate to perform long hours of operation before needing to recharge. This allows a J-0 to work alongside organic workers for a whole shift in addition with helping with the opening up and closing down.
The J-0 reinforced head unit bares some visual similarities for the EV-series supervisor droid. However the J-0 lacks the sophisticated electronics and programming to have the same level of sophistication (or violently sadistic tendencies) as the MerenData financial disaster. This has not stopped some droids from turning around and heading the opposite way when they see a J-0 walking in their general direction.
Programming
"On it master, no need to say it twice. Unless you want me to critique your butchered pronunciation of Binary."- J-0 with its typical programming quirk back talking its master.
Like most Labor Droids, the J-0 is programmed to do a wide variety of manual labor needed at warehouses, construction sites, and industrial facilities. This programming is fairly advanced for a general labor droid. Suffering little in the way of coding errors or loss of productivity. The J-0 could preform the job of multiple lesser droids, which its designers hoped would make up for its increased cost.
The advanced programming was intended to allow the J-0 to operate as a coworker role alongside its organic compatriots rather than just another industrial machine. It also allowed for multiple J-0 units to work smoothly together when assigned to group tasks as long as the task is not too advanced.
In addition the J-0 was programmed to do double duty as a Sentry Droid. Unimpressive close quarters combat protocols were added to the J-0's programming to ensure it could defend itself if the intruder was not willing to leave voluntarily. When the J-0 engages its self defense protocols, it favors using its Pinchers and strength to grapple and throw its opponent out of the premises, or use its metal arms as improvised clubs to batter them until they submit or leave the designated area.
These skills along with its durable casing allowed the J-0 to deal with most unskilled and poorly armed threats such as pest animals or drunk sentients. Enabling the droid to perform low level patrol duties with some programming tweaks like being a bouncer at a cantina or patrolling a warehouse or small factory after hours. Plenty of owners will set their J-0's to patrol their facilities at night after a quick recharge once their day's work shift is done.
The J-0 notably does not contain any programming for using blasters. This was done in order to keep the J-0's class five designation and avoid being labeled a battle droid. Attempts to add ranged capability or even general weapon use to a J-0's programming have achieved lackluster results even compared to a B1.
The J-0's more sophisticated programming did lead to some quirks without regular memory wipes. The J-0s tended to develop a gruff and irritable personality. This tendency seems to be embedded deep into the J-0's code which made it too costly to remove, much to the frustration of its designers.
However the droid will still follow its owner, even if it will grumble at every opportunity. This surprisingly results in smoother integration alongside organic workers due to a sense of empathy at the droid complaining about "management". Most owners of a J-0 see this as an acceptable drawback to having a more competent mechanical worker that can earn the trust of their organic workers.
Another notable quirk that occurred over time is the J-0's propensity for being dramatic when engaging its self defense protocols. This manifested in the older J-0s playing certain kinds of recorded music whenever they engaged a threat based on what tasks they were assigned.
J-0s assigned to more confrontational duties like being a bouncer would blare high energy music from action holofilms. While J-0s doing late night sentry duty at a warehouse may start playing music from horror holofilms when they spot a trespasser. This has done little to assure naysayers that claim J-0 has some EV programming in it.
——
Figured I would try my hand at designing a droid. With how industrialized the Minda system is getting it would probably only be a matter of time. Props to the old and antiquated 1998 Star Wars: Droidworks game for the droid parts and metals.
Crossposted on SB and SV
Production Information
Manufacturer: Guild of Commerce, Production and Protection
Class: Labor Droid and Sentry Droid
Degree: class five droid
Cost: 2,800 credits new
——
Technical Information
Height: 1.75 meters
Sensor Color: Green
Plating Color: Cast Iron Black
Equipment:
- A Heavyweight EV shaped Head
- Binary comlink
- Reinforced Humanoid Torso
- Medium sized droid battery
- 2 medium loader droid arms with a Triple-Opposing Midweight Pincher
- Heavy-Lifting Weighted Legs
Description
"Cybot is making millions supplying the shipyards. Why don't we get in on the action?" - Recording of a Guild meeting before Project Tough was green lit.
The Guild J-0 Tough Droid is a cheap, but rugged class five droid. Initially produced by the Guild to take advantage of the deluge of orders for droids by the Mindan government for its shipyards. However, the Guild decided against trying to produce a more costly maintenance droid and compete with the procurement contracts of larger corporations. Rather, the Guild aimed to design a general purpose labor droid to play up local pride and low logistical costs to snatch up some of the smaller contracts.
Design
"Oh frak, I think that bot broke my nose. It won't stop bleeding."
"You got in a fight with something that had solid metal for arms. What did you expect?" - two former patrons of Figpa's Cantina after antagonizing the owner and their J-0.
The J-0 Tough Droid was designed to be cheap and competent muscle whether that be labor or melee. The J-0 was primarily made of cast iron, copper, bronze, aluminum, and small amounts of steel. While unable to stand up to blaster fire or arm wrestle a Wookie, those metal limbs can still bring most unarmed sentients to the ground.
A combination of a medium sized battery and low energy components allow the J-0 to operate to perform long hours of operation before needing to recharge. This allows a J-0 to work alongside organic workers for a whole shift in addition with helping with the opening up and closing down.
The J-0 reinforced head unit bares some visual similarities for the EV-series supervisor droid. However the J-0 lacks the sophisticated electronics and programming to have the same level of sophistication (or violently sadistic tendencies) as the MerenData financial disaster. This has not stopped some droids from turning around and heading the opposite way when they see a J-0 walking in their general direction.
Programming
"On it master, no need to say it twice. Unless you want me to critique your butchered pronunciation of Binary."- J-0 with its typical programming quirk back talking its master.
Like most Labor Droids, the J-0 is programmed to do a wide variety of manual labor needed at warehouses, construction sites, and industrial facilities. This programming is fairly advanced for a general labor droid. Suffering little in the way of coding errors or loss of productivity. The J-0 could preform the job of multiple lesser droids, which its designers hoped would make up for its increased cost.
The advanced programming was intended to allow the J-0 to operate as a coworker role alongside its organic compatriots rather than just another industrial machine. It also allowed for multiple J-0 units to work smoothly together when assigned to group tasks as long as the task is not too advanced.
In addition the J-0 was programmed to do double duty as a Sentry Droid. Unimpressive close quarters combat protocols were added to the J-0's programming to ensure it could defend itself if the intruder was not willing to leave voluntarily. When the J-0 engages its self defense protocols, it favors using its Pinchers and strength to grapple and throw its opponent out of the premises, or use its metal arms as improvised clubs to batter them until they submit or leave the designated area.
These skills along with its durable casing allowed the J-0 to deal with most unskilled and poorly armed threats such as pest animals or drunk sentients. Enabling the droid to perform low level patrol duties with some programming tweaks like being a bouncer at a cantina or patrolling a warehouse or small factory after hours. Plenty of owners will set their J-0's to patrol their facilities at night after a quick recharge once their day's work shift is done.
The J-0 notably does not contain any programming for using blasters. This was done in order to keep the J-0's class five designation and avoid being labeled a battle droid. Attempts to add ranged capability or even general weapon use to a J-0's programming have achieved lackluster results even compared to a B1.
The J-0's more sophisticated programming did lead to some quirks without regular memory wipes. The J-0s tended to develop a gruff and irritable personality. This tendency seems to be embedded deep into the J-0's code which made it too costly to remove, much to the frustration of its designers.
However the droid will still follow its owner, even if it will grumble at every opportunity. This surprisingly results in smoother integration alongside organic workers due to a sense of empathy at the droid complaining about "management". Most owners of a J-0 see this as an acceptable drawback to having a more competent mechanical worker that can earn the trust of their organic workers.
Another notable quirk that occurred over time is the J-0's propensity for being dramatic when engaging its self defense protocols. This manifested in the older J-0s playing certain kinds of recorded music whenever they engaged a threat based on what tasks they were assigned.
J-0s assigned to more confrontational duties like being a bouncer would blare high energy music from action holofilms. While J-0s doing late night sentry duty at a warehouse may start playing music from horror holofilms when they spot a trespasser. This has done little to assure naysayers that claim J-0 has some EV programming in it.
——
Figured I would try my hand at designing a droid. With how industrialized the Minda system is getting it would probably only be a matter of time. Props to the old and antiquated 1998 Star Wars: Droidworks game for the droid parts and metals.
Crossposted on SB and SV
Last edited:
OrderedOrb
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Aug 13, 2017
- Messages
- 867
- Likes received
- 9,903
Have I mentioned before how much I LOVE your omake's? Adding so much from the Legends continuity does so much to make the setting feel like a real and massive galaxy instead of the version pushed by Disney and Filoni where everything revolves around the same small concentrations of characters an elements.
Chp-77
Freefaller
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Jun 8, 2023
- Messages
- 281
- Likes received
- 99,302
Chp-77
The Guild meeting hall was the same as always. Covered in precious metals, taller than it had any need to be, and chock full of paintings and carved murals that were probably worth more than most penthouse apartments.
On Minda that is. A penthouse somewhere like Coruscant is the same as some planet's GDP.
Regardless, I took my seat at the large circular table, connecting my PDA to the terminal before me. I had a lot of graphs to show today, after all.
Slowly but surely, the remaining members filed into the building. A total of around 60 Governors of various worlds across the sector, totalling around a 3rd of all the systems in the sector. Well, inhabited systems, that is. There were at least a thousand more discovered but uninhabited systems.
Once everyone was seated, and the light chatting finished, we all turned to the woman on my left.
Not Ife, who wasn't there, but instead the Governess Trialdi of the Trialdi system. She shared a name with the system because her family were the ones to spearhead colonization a few years before the Clone Wars. It was a medium sized system with decent industry and population, nothing really to write home about. She
We were looking at her because she was next to be the Guild speaker. After the first meeting, where we were all just talking, it was decided that each meeting should have a speaker, who would organize the meeting and keep everyone on topic. Since I acted in that manner last time, since I started the Guild, I was out for the next meeting.
I would've preferred to just have one, but then everyone would want to be the speaker, so we have to pass the torch around like little kids.
Since everyone had an assigned seat, it was simply decided that the position would move counter-clockwise.
Standing, Governess Trialdi spoke in a firm tone, the kind that one might expect from a mother quietly demanding obedience. Which fit well, considering she looked to be in her 60s.
"This emergency session has been called in order to address recent problems in the shipping markets due to Rebel activity throughout the Mid-Rim. Security companies have been raising premiums across the galaxy as shipping becomes more dangerous, and it has begun to impact trade with outside sectors."
With that, she sat back down.
After she finished speaking, a few around the table pressed buttons on their terminals. With a look at her own terminal to determine who pressed it first, Governess Trialdi spoke once more.
"The Chamber recognizes Governor Daal of the Rodu system."
"These prices have become too much for my system to bear. Gas mining is already hard enough to get going with such a small population, but now I have to deal with outrageous price increases? Already I have corporations breathing down my neck for exploitative exclusive contracts!"
Others murmur in agreement. A common problem for many poorer systems. Rich in resources, but lacking the population to exploit them, corporations roll in, getting exclusive contracts and bringing in outside labor, doing nothing for the local population and stalling the Governors political abilities, meaning no rising the ranks.
Another beep. "The Chamber recognizes Governess Jero of the Zereth system."
"That's not the only problem. With these price increases, jobs are being cut to save money. I've got an increase in poverty rates system wide, and its causing problems everywhere else."
This also got agreement from many richer worlds. Most richer worlds had growing poverty problems as wealth inequality grew. Regardless of their desire to fix said problems, the fact was that no one wanted slums or the homeless wandering about.
It seemed to me that the answer was fairly obvious, if somewhat complex in the details.
"The Council recognizes Governor Mola of the Minda and Edin systems."
All eyes turned to me, but I remained unfazed. I had long since conquered my fear of public speaking and general speachifying. My secret?
I just imagine them naked! Works every time.
My eyes roam the table, passing over a particularly elderly Governor.
I shudder, my mind doing a full stop for a second. Better speachify fast as fuck.
"It seems to me you both have the solutions to each other's problems. One has too many people, the other not enough. While there might be some complications in creating proper training programs and building housing, it seems to me that those with larger homeless or poor populations could simply offload them onto those systems without the population to properly expand. Obviously, the efforts would need to be staggered and properly planned to avoid complications, but it could work."
A beep. "The Chamber recognizes Governor Vale of the Dorrin system."
"How would such an initiative be funded, then? You cannot truly expect those of us who have no such problems to pay for something like this?"
Beep. "The Chamber recognizes Governess Theen of the Larnak system."
"Well you wouldn't have too. Those of use who participate could contribute to a separate fund, overseen by a dedicated committee. Sure, systems like my own wouldn't be able to match the funds of richer systems, but we could offer preferable contracts, or pay the difference in funding back later once our economies are stronger. At the end of the day, we're just solving each other's problems."
This discussion went on for another hour, with person after person speaking up on problems with the idea, solutions, and everything in between. There was a surprising lack of politicking though, as I would've expected. Sure, this was an economic alliance, and everyone benefitted from the whole system working well, so there was less incentive to screw each other over.
But to see an entire hour worth of actual, proper debate over a topic? Without a single insult thrown around?
If the Republic's Senate had been half as behaved, the Clone Wars never would've happened.
Eventually, however, someone did hit on the crux of the matter.
"Regardless of bolstering each other's economies, the fact remains that security premiums are at the highest they've been since the Clone Wars. This means merchants and corporations, especially those from in or past the Mid-Rim, are unwilling to trade with us unless they get very preferential deals. The kinds of deals that would bankrupt half the sector, and leave the other half a damn sight closer to the poverty line."
Beep. "The Chamber recognizes Governor Mola of the Minda and Edin systems."
"In regards to the rising premiums, I have already begun to make deals with security companies to mitigate this, and I'd like to extend my idea to the rest of this esteemed Chamber. By digging past propaganda and fearmongering, I was able to look at the hard data of the rebellion's offensive. While they have started off strong, and have yet to seemingly lose steam, the fact remains that they cannot hold up against the Empire. They lack the military industrial complex to compete against the Imperial Navy or Army."
With a few taps on my terminal, the holo projector in the center of the table lights up, showcasing graphs and reports of confirmed rebel ship counts, the downward trend of the frequency of rebel attacks and more.
"Soon, likely within the next 5 to 6 months, they will find themselves overstretched. They are a guerilla group pretending to be a conventional army and it will backfire on them. So, I have entered into risk-guaranteed contracts with multiple security firms, where they will lower their rates to normal for the duration of 10 months. If the average rates on premiums do not drop for other similar companies across the galaxy, then once the time is up I will pay them the lost potential revenue."
Beep. "The Chamber recognizes Governor Murr of the Revik system."
"That sounds mighty expensive there, Governor Mola. With this new population transfer initiative, funds will be tighter for many. If this gamble fails, many systems might be left in some serious debt."
He phrased it like he was concerned for poorer worlds, but that was bullshit. The Revik system was fairly wealthy, likely because it was a smugglers haven. He only got into the Guild because the smugglers coming from there don't carry the real bad stuff. That and the Revik system does have a vibrant entertainment economy.
No, what he was really asking was 'why should I risk my credits for others.' Which is fair enough. So I decided to answer directly.
"There are many concerns with such a project, so I'll address them now. The first is how poorer worlds would pay for such a project. The answer would be a tiered system, where high income worlds pay 50%, middle income pay 30%, and low income pay the remaining 20%, all as collateral, though resource rights can be put up as well.. Now, please let me finish. In exchange, the upper income systems would gain first pick for preferential trade of resources coming from lower income worlds. For middle income systems, they would gain outposts made by the security companies themselves to facilitate secure trade. Lower income systems would gain protection from bankruptcy and the chance to grow richer and more powerful."
Once I finished, I looked across the room before adding in a small ending. "If anyone has any additions or improvements, please feel free. The better this idea is made, the better for everyone."
That was what really opened the flood gates. Over the next two and a half hours, everyone, and I mean, everyone discussed the proposal. A few other ideas were tossed up there, but lacked either the equitability or potential benefits of my own idea.
The biggest hangup people really had was the risk. Of course, I was more than happy to share all my sources, which were meticulously gathered from the most reliable sources I could find on the subjects. Of course, considering this is the Empire, reliable isn't the best word to use, but they were all I could get my hands on.
In the end, my idea was accepted. Another meeting was scheduled for the next day to hash out pricing, trade routes and all the other details more thoroughly.
It was, all in all, a good meeting.
Which was becoming rarer and rarer for me.
Not a good sign.
-
Yo.
Made this while eating homemade sugar cookies. Used bread flour instead of all purpose. Makes em chewier, but it aint bad. Think I messed up the butter portion, cause its coming on a little too strong.
Been playing WuWa. Pulled Galbrena on my 4th ten pull, but my Echoes are shit so her DPS is pretty low. Still good tho.
Also got BF6. Medic gameplay. Popping smoke and sliding into a revive makes me feel like a hero. Almost enough to ignore the fact that I get killed like 5 seconds later every time anyways.
-Freefaller
The Guild meeting hall was the same as always. Covered in precious metals, taller than it had any need to be, and chock full of paintings and carved murals that were probably worth more than most penthouse apartments.
On Minda that is. A penthouse somewhere like Coruscant is the same as some planet's GDP.
Regardless, I took my seat at the large circular table, connecting my PDA to the terminal before me. I had a lot of graphs to show today, after all.
Slowly but surely, the remaining members filed into the building. A total of around 60 Governors of various worlds across the sector, totalling around a 3rd of all the systems in the sector. Well, inhabited systems, that is. There were at least a thousand more discovered but uninhabited systems.
Once everyone was seated, and the light chatting finished, we all turned to the woman on my left.
Not Ife, who wasn't there, but instead the Governess Trialdi of the Trialdi system. She shared a name with the system because her family were the ones to spearhead colonization a few years before the Clone Wars. It was a medium sized system with decent industry and population, nothing really to write home about. She
We were looking at her because she was next to be the Guild speaker. After the first meeting, where we were all just talking, it was decided that each meeting should have a speaker, who would organize the meeting and keep everyone on topic. Since I acted in that manner last time, since I started the Guild, I was out for the next meeting.
I would've preferred to just have one, but then everyone would want to be the speaker, so we have to pass the torch around like little kids.
Since everyone had an assigned seat, it was simply decided that the position would move counter-clockwise.
Standing, Governess Trialdi spoke in a firm tone, the kind that one might expect from a mother quietly demanding obedience. Which fit well, considering she looked to be in her 60s.
"This emergency session has been called in order to address recent problems in the shipping markets due to Rebel activity throughout the Mid-Rim. Security companies have been raising premiums across the galaxy as shipping becomes more dangerous, and it has begun to impact trade with outside sectors."
With that, she sat back down.
After she finished speaking, a few around the table pressed buttons on their terminals. With a look at her own terminal to determine who pressed it first, Governess Trialdi spoke once more.
"The Chamber recognizes Governor Daal of the Rodu system."
"These prices have become too much for my system to bear. Gas mining is already hard enough to get going with such a small population, but now I have to deal with outrageous price increases? Already I have corporations breathing down my neck for exploitative exclusive contracts!"
Others murmur in agreement. A common problem for many poorer systems. Rich in resources, but lacking the population to exploit them, corporations roll in, getting exclusive contracts and bringing in outside labor, doing nothing for the local population and stalling the Governors political abilities, meaning no rising the ranks.
Another beep. "The Chamber recognizes Governess Jero of the Zereth system."
"That's not the only problem. With these price increases, jobs are being cut to save money. I've got an increase in poverty rates system wide, and its causing problems everywhere else."
This also got agreement from many richer worlds. Most richer worlds had growing poverty problems as wealth inequality grew. Regardless of their desire to fix said problems, the fact was that no one wanted slums or the homeless wandering about.
It seemed to me that the answer was fairly obvious, if somewhat complex in the details.
"The Council recognizes Governor Mola of the Minda and Edin systems."
All eyes turned to me, but I remained unfazed. I had long since conquered my fear of public speaking and general speachifying. My secret?
I just imagine them naked! Works every time.
My eyes roam the table, passing over a particularly elderly Governor.
I shudder, my mind doing a full stop for a second. Better speachify fast as fuck.
"It seems to me you both have the solutions to each other's problems. One has too many people, the other not enough. While there might be some complications in creating proper training programs and building housing, it seems to me that those with larger homeless or poor populations could simply offload them onto those systems without the population to properly expand. Obviously, the efforts would need to be staggered and properly planned to avoid complications, but it could work."
A beep. "The Chamber recognizes Governor Vale of the Dorrin system."
"How would such an initiative be funded, then? You cannot truly expect those of us who have no such problems to pay for something like this?"
Beep. "The Chamber recognizes Governess Theen of the Larnak system."
"Well you wouldn't have too. Those of use who participate could contribute to a separate fund, overseen by a dedicated committee. Sure, systems like my own wouldn't be able to match the funds of richer systems, but we could offer preferable contracts, or pay the difference in funding back later once our economies are stronger. At the end of the day, we're just solving each other's problems."
This discussion went on for another hour, with person after person speaking up on problems with the idea, solutions, and everything in between. There was a surprising lack of politicking though, as I would've expected. Sure, this was an economic alliance, and everyone benefitted from the whole system working well, so there was less incentive to screw each other over.
But to see an entire hour worth of actual, proper debate over a topic? Without a single insult thrown around?
If the Republic's Senate had been half as behaved, the Clone Wars never would've happened.
Eventually, however, someone did hit on the crux of the matter.
"Regardless of bolstering each other's economies, the fact remains that security premiums are at the highest they've been since the Clone Wars. This means merchants and corporations, especially those from in or past the Mid-Rim, are unwilling to trade with us unless they get very preferential deals. The kinds of deals that would bankrupt half the sector, and leave the other half a damn sight closer to the poverty line."
Beep. "The Chamber recognizes Governor Mola of the Minda and Edin systems."
"In regards to the rising premiums, I have already begun to make deals with security companies to mitigate this, and I'd like to extend my idea to the rest of this esteemed Chamber. By digging past propaganda and fearmongering, I was able to look at the hard data of the rebellion's offensive. While they have started off strong, and have yet to seemingly lose steam, the fact remains that they cannot hold up against the Empire. They lack the military industrial complex to compete against the Imperial Navy or Army."
With a few taps on my terminal, the holo projector in the center of the table lights up, showcasing graphs and reports of confirmed rebel ship counts, the downward trend of the frequency of rebel attacks and more.
"Soon, likely within the next 5 to 6 months, they will find themselves overstretched. They are a guerilla group pretending to be a conventional army and it will backfire on them. So, I have entered into risk-guaranteed contracts with multiple security firms, where they will lower their rates to normal for the duration of 10 months. If the average rates on premiums do not drop for other similar companies across the galaxy, then once the time is up I will pay them the lost potential revenue."
Beep. "The Chamber recognizes Governor Murr of the Revik system."
"That sounds mighty expensive there, Governor Mola. With this new population transfer initiative, funds will be tighter for many. If this gamble fails, many systems might be left in some serious debt."
He phrased it like he was concerned for poorer worlds, but that was bullshit. The Revik system was fairly wealthy, likely because it was a smugglers haven. He only got into the Guild because the smugglers coming from there don't carry the real bad stuff. That and the Revik system does have a vibrant entertainment economy.
No, what he was really asking was 'why should I risk my credits for others.' Which is fair enough. So I decided to answer directly.
"There are many concerns with such a project, so I'll address them now. The first is how poorer worlds would pay for such a project. The answer would be a tiered system, where high income worlds pay 50%, middle income pay 30%, and low income pay the remaining 20%, all as collateral, though resource rights can be put up as well.. Now, please let me finish. In exchange, the upper income systems would gain first pick for preferential trade of resources coming from lower income worlds. For middle income systems, they would gain outposts made by the security companies themselves to facilitate secure trade. Lower income systems would gain protection from bankruptcy and the chance to grow richer and more powerful."
Once I finished, I looked across the room before adding in a small ending. "If anyone has any additions or improvements, please feel free. The better this idea is made, the better for everyone."
That was what really opened the flood gates. Over the next two and a half hours, everyone, and I mean, everyone discussed the proposal. A few other ideas were tossed up there, but lacked either the equitability or potential benefits of my own idea.
The biggest hangup people really had was the risk. Of course, I was more than happy to share all my sources, which were meticulously gathered from the most reliable sources I could find on the subjects. Of course, considering this is the Empire, reliable isn't the best word to use, but they were all I could get my hands on.
In the end, my idea was accepted. Another meeting was scheduled for the next day to hash out pricing, trade routes and all the other details more thoroughly.
It was, all in all, a good meeting.
Which was becoming rarer and rarer for me.
Not a good sign.
-
Yo.
Made this while eating homemade sugar cookies. Used bread flour instead of all purpose. Makes em chewier, but it aint bad. Think I messed up the butter portion, cause its coming on a little too strong.
Been playing WuWa. Pulled Galbrena on my 4th ten pull, but my Echoes are shit so her DPS is pretty low. Still good tho.
Also got BF6. Medic gameplay. Popping smoke and sliding into a revive makes me feel like a hero. Almost enough to ignore the fact that I get killed like 5 seconds later every time anyways.
-Freefaller
RageKnight
Rule 1 repeat offender confirmed.
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Remember the PvP FPS rule: "If you want to look cool? KDA matters. If you want to win? Teamwork matters."
Frater Astrotechnicus
All praise Clippy
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Thanks for the update
Introverted
Versed in the lewd.
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You are playing Medic and actually doing Medic stuff.
You are already a hero.
Xx_BoneIdle_xX
Versed in the lewd.
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Lone pronoun: was a sentence lost here or not?
dwennon
Versed in the lewd.
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Galbrena seems decent enough, though in my current situation after getting Ciaconna from a rerun to help complete my Cartethiya team over Sanhua has left me without enough Astrite to justify it.
Also neat chapter, seems as if times are getting more and more stressful for Las.
Yacov
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Got to make your fellow governors feel important after all. This is not a smugglers alliance where they all meet in some shady cantina.
That is okay, Coruscant is an economic sinkhole that eats bulk freighters of food a second and has prices high enough to bankrupt a planetary ruler just by staying a week.
So the Guild is up to a third of the sector in membership. Once you hit a half then things are going to snowball even more due to peer pressure. That is when you are going to start being able to unofficially dictate policy in the sector.
Also if even a fifth of those uninhabited systems has easily habitable planets, then the Myto sector has enough space to double in size and still have room for more. Remember that when all the refugees start rolling in. You don't need the settled refugees to be profitable, just sustainable
Another thing, "uninhabited" probably just means "uninhabited by galactically recognized species and civilizations". There could hundreds of thousands of sentients in the Iron Age tech level and the planet could still be classified as uninhabited due to not being detected. See the Vendari for an example of species on "uninhabited planets".
Given the stunted mental maturity of some governors, this is probably necessary. Although I imagine most of those are not in this meeting.
Ah yes, mega corporations doing mega corporations things. The fact they are not cutting the Governor in on the deal shows how little they think of the sector. Also, note there no complaints about pirates or syndicates, so that's a win.
The only people who want the conditions for slums to form on their planet are short sighted idiots. The kind of people who think they can just bulldoze the slums and that "solves" the problem.
So pictured them all as Wookiees? Got it.
Yes, just "officiate" the "founding" of a "department" and allocate the "budget" to handle internal migration within Guild "borders". All technically independent of the Sector Government.
Not letting the mega corps, the slavers, and the syndicates in certainly helps. Also the people that join the Guild are people already predisposed to mutual assistance. Add in the fact that said mutual assistance doesn't end up blowing up in their faces like most Imperial organizations at this time, and it starts a feedback loop.
So basically short selling the security contracts. At least the security firms will have hassle free contracts with guaranteed payouts at the end. I can only imagine the reneging and "Imperialing" some non-Guild governors are going to do to avoid paying the high rates.
Who knew cataloging and sharing reliable information with your fellow Imperials was convincing? Why don't Imperials do it more often?
Last edited:
Alucard925
Hex
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When it comes to something in the Empire being controlled by rampant nepotism and supremely cutthroat politics and NOT mutual agreements, proposals, and economic growth/gain, I fully endorse blaming Palpatine.
After all, the Empire was never meant to be a unifying force for the galaxy, it was made to make Palpatine live as a glorified despot for eternity, which was part of the reason for Project Lazarus, Palpatine wanted to live as essentially Calus from Destiny 2, but forever.
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Mingo
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I made brownies last night where I replaced the eggs (still too damn expensive) with apple sauce.
It tasted just slightly funky. I don't recommend it if you're a food purist.
Oh, and the chapter was good too!
LordEdric
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either an extra word, or missing rest of a sentence
Omake: The Drought of Black Arms
Yacov
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Omake: The Drought of Black Arms
POV: Skrugg, Feeorin Private Independent Reaving Acquisition Trade Entrepreneur, Quxitol, 345-R-09 System, Myto Sector, 2ABY.
Skrugg forced open the rusty and steaming door to the reinforced shipping container leading to the entrance. Glad to leave the heavy, fetid rain of one of Quxitol's many slitstroms behind him. No one on this world trusted duracrete after the Great Driprot Collapse of 3BBY.
Skrugg took a deep breath of semi-clean air of the passage like it was a rare perfume. Said passage was laden with scrubbers and fresheners in a futile effort to try to keep the planet's stench from taking root permanently. The Feeorin stomped his way down the familiar stairs. Taking care not to hit that broken eighth step. Flory is probably kept it that way as a security measure, or to haze new customers.
"Flory! I know you're here you feathered lump! Where are ya?"
A squawk signified that the Kilmaulsi had heard him. What followed was a few thuds and only a single clang this time before the door finally opened. The arms dealer scrambled out of a small clean room and gave a hasty wave.
"Peace, peace dear customer! I have heard you. Flory will assist however she is able!"
One would never think this hot mess could be an arms dealer. Yet Flory knew weapons and where it was easy to get them. Also anyone who thought she was an easy mark found out rather quickly why her species were a warrior people.
"Well I am looking to replace my DC-15. It was unfortunately lost when one of my ex-heist mates thought it would be a good idea to take a Dazouri hostage."
That rage form was not fun to survive against. Whole job wound up worse than a bust when that hostage turned into a homicidal giant. Knocked Skrugg's blaster clean out the window by using the idiot as an improvised club. Can't be a flareboy without a blaster, and for some reason they weren't lying around everywhere like they used to, so here he was.
"Yes, yes dear customer! Come look at Flory's meager wares! Be warned they may be more meager than in prosperous times."
Ain't that the truth. Seemed like every day the racks were getting barer and barer for arms dealers. This was the third store Skrugg had visited since the last two thought he was desperate enough to try and pawn an air pistol off on him. Sadly it appears Flory had more of the same.
"Sporting blasters, a striker projectile pistol, 6-2Aug2 hunting rifles!? What is with this selection? The Flory I know wouldn't be caught dead hawking Czerka dung! What happened to the bird that could get a 773 Firepuncher sniper rifle, no questions asked?"
Skrugg might have been laying it on a bit thick, but frak it he was determined to get to the bottom of this. He had spent hours trekking through the sludge filled roads as this bog planet tried to ensnare and dissolve him, only to find the same bare shelves. If anyone knew where all the guns went, it was avian that once rolled out a dozen T-21 light repeaters like it was no big deal.
"Flory does not know what to tell you dear customer. Blasters have been harder to get all over the planet. The parts for blasters have also been scarce. It is truly worrying."
The grim expression on Flory's face was certainly warranted. The bags under her eyes looking more crimson than orange. Quxitol lived and died by its illegal arms trade. The horrid constant rains and sinking swamps had doomed the initial botanical expedition's efforts. Consigned to a slow and muck coated death after the funding ran dry and the workers began a series of riots due to the miserable working environment.
"That must be lighting a fire under the Botanical Committee's rear. Aren't their "new sponsors" supposed to make sure things like this don't happen?"
The only way the scientific operation survived and continued to quash rebelling workers was by allowing smugglers access to their camps and high tech clean rooms to store contraband. Having access to the only large scale clean storage on the planet and dictating who could build more allowed the "shipping companies" to control the entire flow of product. Any who disagreed was left stripped and bound to dissolve alive over days in the bogs.
Quxitol evaded suspicion from nosy inspectors by intentionally slow rolling the flimsiwork to put the system on official maps. Most would just chalk it up to trying to keep academic competitors out. Nothing could be happening in an "uninhabited" system that did not even have a proper name after all.
The expedition's leaders were more than willing to go along with the scheme. Most had invested far too much personal funding and prestige into this expedition to let it fail. They were willing to do anything to avoid the undertaking (and their careers) being swallowed by the festering acidic bogs of Quxitol like a dozen workers in a malfunctioning speeder.
"Even the shipping companies aren't pulling through like they used to dear customer. It is making those in charge paranoid and start pointing fingers. Quxitol's leaders are worrying they found a more profitable route for their shipments."
These days Quxitol's desperately needed imports are handled by undisclosed shipping companies and the exported plants are a bit heavier than they should be. Shipments of supplies and contracted fresh meat in exchange for discretion and being the official face for Quxitiol. The arrangement had been going well for years until it suddenly didn't.
If the shipping companies found another route, then Quxitol would have no one to turn to. The board of sponsors who initially ordered the endeavor were ready to reap the prestige of the expedition's reports. However they would likely be uncaring if it failed given they had already cut the expedition's funding.
"If the companies found a new route, it isn't through Edin like the old days. Place has become a battleground since the Imperials decided to clamp down on the system. Might be opportunity for profitable ventures there, but shipping blasters isn't one of them. Too much of a risk of getting caught.
Been that way across the sector unfortunately. Came back to Quxitol hoping the anonymity would yield fuller shelves. Blasters offworld are all locked behind official doors or reserved for "loyal customers". It's like all the guns require you to join a syndicate or go clean. Any idea what is causing it?"
Cantina tales painted a bleak picture for the independent criminal without major connections. Used to be you had to struggle to get all your weapons through lax Imperial checkpoints from the lack of storage. Now you had to struggle to even have a weapon to squeeze through at all.
Seemed like everyone from the Imperials to street gangs had taken to hoarding what firepower they had, while buying or killing over what they could get away with. Skrugg swore he saw a crew of low level enforcers patrolling with energy slingshots, like they were a gang of urchins!
"Myto was never a big sector dear customer. There have been brief periods of shortages when it comes to certain items. Usually when a specific corporation or syndicate changed routes or shut down a local office. Eventually bouncing back when a smuggler or corpo found the profit again.
However this one seems to be especially hard. Broader in scope than just a single company or trade route getting hit. Once reliable channels are either drying up or being outright strangled. Best guess is the Guild and the War."
Skrugg winced at the mention of the local underworld's least favorite newcomer. The Guild didn't play by the normal rules. Shipments that got seized stayed gone rather than coming back with a markup. Add in the fact the Guild was feeding from the same trough as them when it came to supply, only with a much larger appetite. He could see the issue.
"I get the Guild, but why the War? Shouldn't war be good for the blaster business? Now even a good A280 blaster rifle is getting hard to find."
War should've meant blaster companies turning on the tap. All those guns flooding the market should have trickled down to dealers like Flory. Corpos could not resist having a bit of a stockpile for "special sales" to pump up their quarterly earnings.
Sure the militaries would still get first dibs, but that had its own advantages. Those stores tended to leave their doors unlocked when the quartermasters needed some funds. Yet it is like the PDFs in this sector decided to go crazy and suddenly got stingy with their stockpiles instead of their budgets.
"War does bring more blasters dear customer, but only where the war is or is expected to be. Myto is far enough from the frontlines that it tends to be low priority for weapons shipments. What guns do come in are too coveted by Imperial formations and the Guild to make a sizable play for. Even the decades old Dubrillion stockpile is being guarded like a vault full of beskar.
As for the A280s? Flory's contacts say there have been signs of Tardimen skulking through the sector disguised as honest traders for their masters. Bleeding their hearts all over their funny money to bleed the wallets of anyone able to be duped into taking it. Those rifles are probably speeding off towards the Offensive before the sellers realize the money they were paid with is barely more accepted in this sector than counterfeit."
Skrugg slumped his shoulders in defeat. Last job didn't pay out so he couldn't other dealers' higher rates even with his savings. Looks like getting a decent replacement was going to take a while. Flory noticed his fouled mood and attempted to do what any merchant would do.
"Perhaps Flory may be of assistance if you are so troubled dear customer. With blaster parts becoming ever more rare, Flory has contacted some of her… more adaptable associates to look for alternatives."
It was easy to tell from the selection that Flory was capitalizing on the current crisis. What she was offering looked more fitting in tribal warfare than a criminal hideout. However Skrugg didn't have many options at the moment with his old blaster gone. Who knows, maybe he could turn it to his advantage.
"Fine! Give me the auto-caster. The thing's archaic, but modern ones can still punch through weak armor."
Who knows, maybe Skrugg could turn it to his advantage. If his weapon is going to be primitive, might as well play into it. Paint some random symbols to make his hoots and hollers more intimidating to make up for his new weapon's lower ammo count.
Perhaps he would even gather his fellow flareboys and form an entire gang around the theme. Gangs with gimmicks tend to gain more respect. Skrugg's Quarrelers! Nah, sounds like a bad cantina act. Skrugg's Thugs! No, too generic. Eh, he will work on it.
——
"The Drought of Black Arms hit the Myto criminal underground hard in the early ABYs. Every thug, gangster, and smuggler was desperately scrambling for whatever firepower they could get their hands on. Anything to get an edge over their rivals and have a chance of surviving a confrontation with the authorities.
The dearth of blasters along with parts and materials for firearms in general prompting many criminals to change their tactics. They began to look to alternative weapons using lower quality or non-standard parts left on the shelves. Things got so bad projectile weapons like energy slingshots, auto-casters, and energy bows saw a resurgence in popularity even among the more lethal criminal professions on unimportant worlds.
The Drought also led to an increase in the prominence of melee weaponry in criminal operations. The common thug always had a knife or some improvised club like a pipe as a back up, but during this period more time and resources were being spent towards acquiring better melee weaponry. As the Drought continued with no visible end in sight, exotic and specialized weapons such as shock whips, jury rigged fire blades, and even the rare Chestrashi void spear began showing up more commonly in gang warfare. Although ownership of the latter was still considered a Class One Offense and would see the owner likely labeled a war criminal by the authorities.
This focus on more "primitive" weapons contributed to the formation of so classed Tribal Gangs: gangs which intentionally played up their savage nature and physical prowess to intimidate others. Ironically this new form of criminal generally enjoyed better health and standard of living than most other criminals. This is due to them focusing on healthy eating habits, exercising for physical contests as leisure, and rejecting more "civilized" vices for the sake of maintaining their image. - Skrugg, author of sector award winning book: Criminal Life Through the Drought, written in 4ABY during his incarceration following his arrest.
——
Through a strange convergence of market forces, I think the Myto Sector may soon face a temporary shortage of blasters available to the independent buyer. Running out of guns feels weird for such a gun inundated setting like Star Wars. Not enough to stop criminal violence in the sector, but maybe enough that the criminals start adapting to the new circumstance. This is mainly due to lots of fresh demand and dwindling local supply.
Demand wise legitimate buy orders for blasters in the Myto sector are hitting orbit compared to the BBYs. The Mindan Shipyards represent a new and very insistent buyer of military blasters due to needing hundreds or thousands of guns to stock the armories per warship they make. The rapidly expanding Guild is descending upon the secondhand and non-military market like locusts buying up every weapon they can. Even the PDFs and Imperial garrisons are probably wanting to maintain or expand their stockpiles due to the uptick in external pirate threats.
Supply wise things are in the opposite direction. The Myto sector was never that well populated back in the BBYs, so domestic production and stockpiles were never going to be large. Even the Clone Wars reserves have their limits. Properly disciplined and coordinated Hyperlane patrols means the blasters seized from pirates and smugglers aren't winding up back on the black market and the illegal channels are being strangled. Then there is the Galactic Civil War heating up in other parts of the galaxy, which means both legal and illegal guns are most likely being exported rather than imported into the sector draining the sector's supply even more. Also having the effect of discouraging imports of guns into the sector due to the risk of said shipments be pirated or requisitioned.
Crossposted on SB and SV
POV: Skrugg, Feeorin Private Independent Reaving Acquisition Trade Entrepreneur, Quxitol, 345-R-09 System, Myto Sector, 2ABY.
Skrugg forced open the rusty and steaming door to the reinforced shipping container leading to the entrance. Glad to leave the heavy, fetid rain of one of Quxitol's many slitstroms behind him. No one on this world trusted duracrete after the Great Driprot Collapse of 3BBY.
Skrugg took a deep breath of semi-clean air of the passage like it was a rare perfume. Said passage was laden with scrubbers and fresheners in a futile effort to try to keep the planet's stench from taking root permanently. The Feeorin stomped his way down the familiar stairs. Taking care not to hit that broken eighth step. Flory is probably kept it that way as a security measure, or to haze new customers.
"Flory! I know you're here you feathered lump! Where are ya?"
A squawk signified that the Kilmaulsi had heard him. What followed was a few thuds and only a single clang this time before the door finally opened. The arms dealer scrambled out of a small clean room and gave a hasty wave.
"Peace, peace dear customer! I have heard you. Flory will assist however she is able!"
One would never think this hot mess could be an arms dealer. Yet Flory knew weapons and where it was easy to get them. Also anyone who thought she was an easy mark found out rather quickly why her species were a warrior people.
"Well I am looking to replace my DC-15. It was unfortunately lost when one of my ex-heist mates thought it would be a good idea to take a Dazouri hostage."
That rage form was not fun to survive against. Whole job wound up worse than a bust when that hostage turned into a homicidal giant. Knocked Skrugg's blaster clean out the window by using the idiot as an improvised club. Can't be a flareboy without a blaster, and for some reason they weren't lying around everywhere like they used to, so here he was.
"Yes, yes dear customer! Come look at Flory's meager wares! Be warned they may be more meager than in prosperous times."
Ain't that the truth. Seemed like every day the racks were getting barer and barer for arms dealers. This was the third store Skrugg had visited since the last two thought he was desperate enough to try and pawn an air pistol off on him. Sadly it appears Flory had more of the same.
"Sporting blasters, a striker projectile pistol, 6-2Aug2 hunting rifles!? What is with this selection? The Flory I know wouldn't be caught dead hawking Czerka dung! What happened to the bird that could get a 773 Firepuncher sniper rifle, no questions asked?"
Skrugg might have been laying it on a bit thick, but frak it he was determined to get to the bottom of this. He had spent hours trekking through the sludge filled roads as this bog planet tried to ensnare and dissolve him, only to find the same bare shelves. If anyone knew where all the guns went, it was avian that once rolled out a dozen T-21 light repeaters like it was no big deal.
"Flory does not know what to tell you dear customer. Blasters have been harder to get all over the planet. The parts for blasters have also been scarce. It is truly worrying."
The grim expression on Flory's face was certainly warranted. The bags under her eyes looking more crimson than orange. Quxitol lived and died by its illegal arms trade. The horrid constant rains and sinking swamps had doomed the initial botanical expedition's efforts. Consigned to a slow and muck coated death after the funding ran dry and the workers began a series of riots due to the miserable working environment.
"That must be lighting a fire under the Botanical Committee's rear. Aren't their "new sponsors" supposed to make sure things like this don't happen?"
The only way the scientific operation survived and continued to quash rebelling workers was by allowing smugglers access to their camps and high tech clean rooms to store contraband. Having access to the only large scale clean storage on the planet and dictating who could build more allowed the "shipping companies" to control the entire flow of product. Any who disagreed was left stripped and bound to dissolve alive over days in the bogs.
Quxitol evaded suspicion from nosy inspectors by intentionally slow rolling the flimsiwork to put the system on official maps. Most would just chalk it up to trying to keep academic competitors out. Nothing could be happening in an "uninhabited" system that did not even have a proper name after all.
The expedition's leaders were more than willing to go along with the scheme. Most had invested far too much personal funding and prestige into this expedition to let it fail. They were willing to do anything to avoid the undertaking (and their careers) being swallowed by the festering acidic bogs of Quxitol like a dozen workers in a malfunctioning speeder.
"Even the shipping companies aren't pulling through like they used to dear customer. It is making those in charge paranoid and start pointing fingers. Quxitol's leaders are worrying they found a more profitable route for their shipments."
These days Quxitol's desperately needed imports are handled by undisclosed shipping companies and the exported plants are a bit heavier than they should be. Shipments of supplies and contracted fresh meat in exchange for discretion and being the official face for Quxitiol. The arrangement had been going well for years until it suddenly didn't.
If the shipping companies found another route, then Quxitol would have no one to turn to. The board of sponsors who initially ordered the endeavor were ready to reap the prestige of the expedition's reports. However they would likely be uncaring if it failed given they had already cut the expedition's funding.
"If the companies found a new route, it isn't through Edin like the old days. Place has become a battleground since the Imperials decided to clamp down on the system. Might be opportunity for profitable ventures there, but shipping blasters isn't one of them. Too much of a risk of getting caught.
Been that way across the sector unfortunately. Came back to Quxitol hoping the anonymity would yield fuller shelves. Blasters offworld are all locked behind official doors or reserved for "loyal customers". It's like all the guns require you to join a syndicate or go clean. Any idea what is causing it?"
Cantina tales painted a bleak picture for the independent criminal without major connections. Used to be you had to struggle to get all your weapons through lax Imperial checkpoints from the lack of storage. Now you had to struggle to even have a weapon to squeeze through at all.
Seemed like everyone from the Imperials to street gangs had taken to hoarding what firepower they had, while buying or killing over what they could get away with. Skrugg swore he saw a crew of low level enforcers patrolling with energy slingshots, like they were a gang of urchins!
"Myto was never a big sector dear customer. There have been brief periods of shortages when it comes to certain items. Usually when a specific corporation or syndicate changed routes or shut down a local office. Eventually bouncing back when a smuggler or corpo found the profit again.
However this one seems to be especially hard. Broader in scope than just a single company or trade route getting hit. Once reliable channels are either drying up or being outright strangled. Best guess is the Guild and the War."
Skrugg winced at the mention of the local underworld's least favorite newcomer. The Guild didn't play by the normal rules. Shipments that got seized stayed gone rather than coming back with a markup. Add in the fact the Guild was feeding from the same trough as them when it came to supply, only with a much larger appetite. He could see the issue.
"I get the Guild, but why the War? Shouldn't war be good for the blaster business? Now even a good A280 blaster rifle is getting hard to find."
War should've meant blaster companies turning on the tap. All those guns flooding the market should have trickled down to dealers like Flory. Corpos could not resist having a bit of a stockpile for "special sales" to pump up their quarterly earnings.
Sure the militaries would still get first dibs, but that had its own advantages. Those stores tended to leave their doors unlocked when the quartermasters needed some funds. Yet it is like the PDFs in this sector decided to go crazy and suddenly got stingy with their stockpiles instead of their budgets.
"War does bring more blasters dear customer, but only where the war is or is expected to be. Myto is far enough from the frontlines that it tends to be low priority for weapons shipments. What guns do come in are too coveted by Imperial formations and the Guild to make a sizable play for. Even the decades old Dubrillion stockpile is being guarded like a vault full of beskar.
As for the A280s? Flory's contacts say there have been signs of Tardimen skulking through the sector disguised as honest traders for their masters. Bleeding their hearts all over their funny money to bleed the wallets of anyone able to be duped into taking it. Those rifles are probably speeding off towards the Offensive before the sellers realize the money they were paid with is barely more accepted in this sector than counterfeit."
Skrugg slumped his shoulders in defeat. Last job didn't pay out so he couldn't other dealers' higher rates even with his savings. Looks like getting a decent replacement was going to take a while. Flory noticed his fouled mood and attempted to do what any merchant would do.
"Perhaps Flory may be of assistance if you are so troubled dear customer. With blaster parts becoming ever more rare, Flory has contacted some of her… more adaptable associates to look for alternatives."
It was easy to tell from the selection that Flory was capitalizing on the current crisis. What she was offering looked more fitting in tribal warfare than a criminal hideout. However Skrugg didn't have many options at the moment with his old blaster gone. Who knows, maybe he could turn it to his advantage.
"Fine! Give me the auto-caster. The thing's archaic, but modern ones can still punch through weak armor."
Who knows, maybe Skrugg could turn it to his advantage. If his weapon is going to be primitive, might as well play into it. Paint some random symbols to make his hoots and hollers more intimidating to make up for his new weapon's lower ammo count.
Perhaps he would even gather his fellow flareboys and form an entire gang around the theme. Gangs with gimmicks tend to gain more respect. Skrugg's Quarrelers! Nah, sounds like a bad cantina act. Skrugg's Thugs! No, too generic. Eh, he will work on it.
——
"The Drought of Black Arms hit the Myto criminal underground hard in the early ABYs. Every thug, gangster, and smuggler was desperately scrambling for whatever firepower they could get their hands on. Anything to get an edge over their rivals and have a chance of surviving a confrontation with the authorities.
The dearth of blasters along with parts and materials for firearms in general prompting many criminals to change their tactics. They began to look to alternative weapons using lower quality or non-standard parts left on the shelves. Things got so bad projectile weapons like energy slingshots, auto-casters, and energy bows saw a resurgence in popularity even among the more lethal criminal professions on unimportant worlds.
The Drought also led to an increase in the prominence of melee weaponry in criminal operations. The common thug always had a knife or some improvised club like a pipe as a back up, but during this period more time and resources were being spent towards acquiring better melee weaponry. As the Drought continued with no visible end in sight, exotic and specialized weapons such as shock whips, jury rigged fire blades, and even the rare Chestrashi void spear began showing up more commonly in gang warfare. Although ownership of the latter was still considered a Class One Offense and would see the owner likely labeled a war criminal by the authorities.
This focus on more "primitive" weapons contributed to the formation of so classed Tribal Gangs: gangs which intentionally played up their savage nature and physical prowess to intimidate others. Ironically this new form of criminal generally enjoyed better health and standard of living than most other criminals. This is due to them focusing on healthy eating habits, exercising for physical contests as leisure, and rejecting more "civilized" vices for the sake of maintaining their image. - Skrugg, author of sector award winning book: Criminal Life Through the Drought, written in 4ABY during his incarceration following his arrest.
——
Through a strange convergence of market forces, I think the Myto Sector may soon face a temporary shortage of blasters available to the independent buyer. Running out of guns feels weird for such a gun inundated setting like Star Wars. Not enough to stop criminal violence in the sector, but maybe enough that the criminals start adapting to the new circumstance. This is mainly due to lots of fresh demand and dwindling local supply.
Demand wise legitimate buy orders for blasters in the Myto sector are hitting orbit compared to the BBYs. The Mindan Shipyards represent a new and very insistent buyer of military blasters due to needing hundreds or thousands of guns to stock the armories per warship they make. The rapidly expanding Guild is descending upon the secondhand and non-military market like locusts buying up every weapon they can. Even the PDFs and Imperial garrisons are probably wanting to maintain or expand their stockpiles due to the uptick in external pirate threats.
Supply wise things are in the opposite direction. The Myto sector was never that well populated back in the BBYs, so domestic production and stockpiles were never going to be large. Even the Clone Wars reserves have their limits. Properly disciplined and coordinated Hyperlane patrols means the blasters seized from pirates and smugglers aren't winding up back on the black market and the illegal channels are being strangled. Then there is the Galactic Civil War heating up in other parts of the galaxy, which means both legal and illegal guns are most likely being exported rather than imported into the sector draining the sector's supply even more. Also having the effect of discouraging imports of guns into the sector due to the risk of said shipments be pirated or requisitioned.
Crossposted on SB and SV
Last edited:
Rustic
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
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- 2,639
Chapter 77
To be honest I rather love chapters like this. The whole screwing up the ideals of the empire as well as the revolutionaries. Making things work even as crap keeps trying to roll down on the mc. Just bucking up and clearing out the problems.
To be honest I rather love chapters like this. The whole screwing up the ideals of the empire as well as the revolutionaries. Making things work even as crap keeps trying to roll down on the mc. Just bucking up and clearing out the problems.
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oscar e Sampedro Lopez
Well worn.
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Thanks for the chapter
OrderedOrb
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Always cool to see the MC expanding his influence while thinking he honestly has a way out.
As a fellow WuWa player, I' choosing to skip the most recent banners. I have Augusta at S2 and Weapon 1, Shorekeeper at S1 Weapon 1, AND Iuno at S0 and Weapon 1. My resources in WuWa are tapped out right now and unless Valbrena can outpace any of those, or EZPECIALLY my Cartethyia S3 and Weapon 1 with Ciaccona and Aero Rover, I'm gonna focus on building up wjat I've already got.
As a fellow WuWa player, I' choosing to skip the most recent banners. I have Augusta at S2 and Weapon 1, Shorekeeper at S1 Weapon 1, AND Iuno at S0 and Weapon 1. My resources in WuWa are tapped out right now and unless Valbrena can outpace any of those, or EZPECIALLY my Cartethyia S3 and Weapon 1 with Ciaccona and Aero Rover, I'm gonna focus on building up wjat I've already got.
Chp-78
Freefaller
Not too sore, are you?
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Chp-78
After an exhausting, if productive few days on Dubrillion, I headed back home to Minda.
Only to get a call as soon as my ship entered the system. Seeing that it was Representative Kabbas from the Shipyard Workers Assembly, informally the Union, I answered quickly.
It was always a good idea to keep on the good side of your workers, after all, and being seen as proactive in the relationship is conducive to that.
After a short delay, the audio channel was established.
"Good day, Representative."
"And to you as well, Governor. I was just calling to tell you that my connections came through."
Connections? What was he talking about? It's been a little over a week since we met, but I can't really remember any connections.
While I ponder this, Kabbas continues.
"Currently, I was able to get three medium sized construction companies interested in Minda through my contacts. They can contact your people within the hour to start negotiations."
For a second, I sat there flabbergasted. Construction companies? Connections?? Then I remembered that offhand comment I made about wishing there were more construction companies I could contract to expand the population.
Composing myself, I replied quickly. "Thank you, Representative. Please send their contact details to the head of the Office of Planetary Contracts and Acquisitions, please. She'll handle the rest."
The department head was, of course, Oioro. After her stellar performance fleecing KDY, I put her in charge of negotiating just about every contract private entities made with Minda. Darna had her own people over on Edin.
Spy she may be, but I know for sure she'll get Minda the best deal, and somehow make them come back for more.
After some pleasantries, the Representative left the call, citing management duties.
Just as he left, I got a report on my PDA about rising immigration in the system. Nothing unusual, and we usually end up turning many away due to housing concerns, but there's been a recent uptick in accepted immigrant families.
Almost all are…Sullustan. Not a whole lot of them, but of the recently accepted families, nearly 60% were Sullustan.
Strange…but nothing of concern. If they got accepted, it's because they have valuable skills, so there shouldn't be any problems.
Checking my itinerary, I saw something I've been dreading for a while.
A party. A high society party. My presence having been promised by, of course, Dornun Mola.
If not for the notes that told me that this would be a great opportunity to make connections with some industrial magnates, I wouldn't bother, but I want those factories. The more self reliant Minda is, the better.
-
A shower, change of dress and a few hours later I found myself in a highrise apartment in Accordia.
Out the window I could see the rest of the gleaming city, from the sharp spire of the Imperial Tower to the blocky megabuildings that stood in stark, brutalist contrast to the softer tones of Alderaanian architecture and the open-air Nabooan domes.
The Midnight Accord, the river that ran through Accordia, shone like the night sky as it always did at this hour. Simultaneously the night sky proper was lit up, the galaxy shining back.
In most cities, this effect wouldn't be possible. Too much light pollution.
But, if I must be frank, this view is one that I couldn't live without. To look out my window and see the gleam of the galaxy above lets me dream of freedom. So, I made a concerted effort towards reducing light pollution as much as possible.
Streetlights and such had to have cut-offs, so the light they emanated only shone downwards. Buildings weren't allowed to have upward shining lights, with the only ones permitted being the aviation obstruction lights meant to warn incoming ships of skyscrapers.
Near the river, there was a legal requirement for shadow barriers, that is to say that lights could not shine on the river from the banks.
All of these requirements made construction a tad more difficult, but in the end I think it was worth it. Some people had started visiting Accordia on vacation because of it.
And the mish-mash of cultures as well. The fusion food here is insane.
Turning back from the window, I looked inwards towards the party.
Illuminated by softer candlelit tones, the entire place was draped in excess. Luxurious fabrics hung as loose curtains, the floor was covered in expensive rugs and carpets.
And where there wasn't a rug or carpet, there shone an exorbitant hardwood floor polished to a mirror-like sheen. Every table was made by some famous designer, every piece of furniture worth more than quadruple my salary.
The sofas are reclined, like those stereotypical therapist office couches. The tables are pedestals with round, flat surfaces, all carved from the same piece of white marble, with spiderwebs of obsidian black crisscrossing the surface.
Kind of like my mugs, just with different colors. Very cool detail.
Regardless of the, admittedly, very cool neo-greco/roman aesthetic they had going on, the place was fairly packed.
Not shoulder to shoulder packed, but enough that a dozen or so conversational groups had popped up.
As my eyes scan the room, I take another bite of the cake from the plate I'm holding. It's quite good.
Dornun can be seen chatting up the host and a few others by the outdoor fountain, in the outdoor, rooftop garden. On a skyscraper penthouse.
Rich people are wild man.
Regardless, I steel myself as a group approaches me, which I wasn't happy about.
I had already spoken with the industrial magnates I wanted to, making political friends and such, subtly implanting the idea of Mindan contracts by mentioning the shipyard's problems. After all, the shipyard just desperately needs ship parts. And if one or two of you started manufacturing them?
Well, there might be a solid set of deals waiting for you. Of course, the shipyard isn't in such a bad spot that it is actually desperate, but the more they think that, the more likely they are to retool their factories.
Still, I had accomplished my goals for the night, and now even more people want to talk to me!?
"Ah, good evening Governor! Quite the view, yes?"
The first to speak was a boisterous man with an excess of, let's say, belt length. His mustache was also quite long, curling up into an almost cartoonish handlebar.
"Ah, Mr. Dragnati, how nice to meet you" I responded, already knowing him. While not someone I came here to meet, he was on the dossier Dornun had given me. Chairman of a fairly sized agricultural concern, with stocks in various other enterprises across the neighboring Clacis sector.
A sector I was interested in due to Gwori Revolutionary Industries, an old CIS Munificent manufacturer. The potential there for shipyard expansion was quite nice, if I was able to sweep in as they collapsed, as I could foresee them doing in a few years.
"Yes, it's quite nice to meet you too, my good man! Please, let me introduce my pride and joy, Gloriana Dragnati!"
My gaze locks onto the aforementioned pride and joy while digging up information from the dossier. Gloriana Dragnati was a young woman a few years my senior, around 4 or so, sporting her fathers tanned skin, if just a shade darker from her mothers side. With long, curling, practically neon red hair, it provided quite the contrast.
Regardless of her choice of hair dye, the dossier had more interesting things to say about her, though her father beat my mind to recollect the information.
"She's an incredible negotiator! Why, just in the past month she's snagged the company quite a few small scale contracts with ease! Given time, she will take my place and lead the concern towards bright, profitable futures."
Ah, I see. He's talking her up quite a lot. Combined with the shy looks she's giving me, I can assume he wants to set me up with her. Not happening. But her skills are of interest.
"Negotiating, yes?" I turned to her. "Ms. Dragnati, pray tell, where did you receive your education?"
She looked a little surprised that I was addressing her directly but responded nonetheless.
"I studied Business at Coronet University, and Law at the Coruscant College of Law."
It takes every muscle in my body practically seizing up to stop my eyes from widening comically. Coronet University, in Coronet City, on Corellia!? And then a second degree at the Coruscant College of Law!?
Holy shit, how did they afford that? How did she get in? I've got to ask Myr'thos what kind of Sith fucking alchemy they used because that sounds so absolutely fucking impossible its not even funny.
Regaining my composure, and ignoring whatever bullshit her father was talking about, some dinner plans or whatever, I focused entirely on her.
"Miss, how would you like a job?"
"...Huh?"
-
I got home that night a very happy man. Negotiations with Ms Dragnati had gone splendidly.
It turns out, she got into both universities through scholarships, her fathers money and influence (of which he had very little in the Core) and sheer academic brilliance.
Just under the makeup that she smeared off wiping her eyes, I remember spotting some very, very deep bags, indicative of an incredibly hard working person.
Someone with those degrees from those universities? An absolute shoe-in for Oioros department.
Aside from all that politicking, not much got truly done. I mean, sure, I got some ideas for a revision of employment laws on Minda, but that will take a while to set up and stress test, so its not a prominent concern.
Instead, I start taking a look at the reports coming out of Verndar. Apparently there was an increasing amount of suspected political assassinations. I suppose a lot of those countries really hate each other, cause even with Imperial ships in orbit they're still finding ways to kill each other.
I respect it, honestly.
Regardless, as much as I'd like to just wipe some government away to make an example, that would be bad for PR, and would cause increased distrust amongst the Verndari populace.
Their pride as a species has already been hurt badly by the very nature of having been conquered. I'm not going to hurt it more by coming in there and messing with all of their stuff or systems, and certainly not by killing a shit ton of their people to 'send a message'.
Instead, I'll just have an investigative team dispatched to ensure things get smoothed over.
As I was about to do so, a message appeared on my terminal. A priority request for audience.
From Thorne. At nearly midnight.
I sigh, already imagining the headache.
-
Made buttered noodles. Fucked it up somehow. Used actual unsalted cooking butter instead of the fake butter.
Also been listening to the Tron: Ares soundtrack. I hear the movie is mid (Jared Leto curse) but, as always, Tron cooks with the music.
Nine Inch Nails fucking nailed it (pun intended), especially with As Alive As You Need Me To Be. Absolute fucking banger.
-Freefaller
After an exhausting, if productive few days on Dubrillion, I headed back home to Minda.
Only to get a call as soon as my ship entered the system. Seeing that it was Representative Kabbas from the Shipyard Workers Assembly, informally the Union, I answered quickly.
It was always a good idea to keep on the good side of your workers, after all, and being seen as proactive in the relationship is conducive to that.
After a short delay, the audio channel was established.
"Good day, Representative."
"And to you as well, Governor. I was just calling to tell you that my connections came through."
Connections? What was he talking about? It's been a little over a week since we met, but I can't really remember any connections.
While I ponder this, Kabbas continues.
"Currently, I was able to get three medium sized construction companies interested in Minda through my contacts. They can contact your people within the hour to start negotiations."
For a second, I sat there flabbergasted. Construction companies? Connections?? Then I remembered that offhand comment I made about wishing there were more construction companies I could contract to expand the population.
Composing myself, I replied quickly. "Thank you, Representative. Please send their contact details to the head of the Office of Planetary Contracts and Acquisitions, please. She'll handle the rest."
The department head was, of course, Oioro. After her stellar performance fleecing KDY, I put her in charge of negotiating just about every contract private entities made with Minda. Darna had her own people over on Edin.
Spy she may be, but I know for sure she'll get Minda the best deal, and somehow make them come back for more.
After some pleasantries, the Representative left the call, citing management duties.
Just as he left, I got a report on my PDA about rising immigration in the system. Nothing unusual, and we usually end up turning many away due to housing concerns, but there's been a recent uptick in accepted immigrant families.
Almost all are…Sullustan. Not a whole lot of them, but of the recently accepted families, nearly 60% were Sullustan.
Strange…but nothing of concern. If they got accepted, it's because they have valuable skills, so there shouldn't be any problems.
Checking my itinerary, I saw something I've been dreading for a while.
A party. A high society party. My presence having been promised by, of course, Dornun Mola.
If not for the notes that told me that this would be a great opportunity to make connections with some industrial magnates, I wouldn't bother, but I want those factories. The more self reliant Minda is, the better.
-
A shower, change of dress and a few hours later I found myself in a highrise apartment in Accordia.
Out the window I could see the rest of the gleaming city, from the sharp spire of the Imperial Tower to the blocky megabuildings that stood in stark, brutalist contrast to the softer tones of Alderaanian architecture and the open-air Nabooan domes.
The Midnight Accord, the river that ran through Accordia, shone like the night sky as it always did at this hour. Simultaneously the night sky proper was lit up, the galaxy shining back.
In most cities, this effect wouldn't be possible. Too much light pollution.
But, if I must be frank, this view is one that I couldn't live without. To look out my window and see the gleam of the galaxy above lets me dream of freedom. So, I made a concerted effort towards reducing light pollution as much as possible.
Streetlights and such had to have cut-offs, so the light they emanated only shone downwards. Buildings weren't allowed to have upward shining lights, with the only ones permitted being the aviation obstruction lights meant to warn incoming ships of skyscrapers.
Near the river, there was a legal requirement for shadow barriers, that is to say that lights could not shine on the river from the banks.
All of these requirements made construction a tad more difficult, but in the end I think it was worth it. Some people had started visiting Accordia on vacation because of it.
And the mish-mash of cultures as well. The fusion food here is insane.
Turning back from the window, I looked inwards towards the party.
Illuminated by softer candlelit tones, the entire place was draped in excess. Luxurious fabrics hung as loose curtains, the floor was covered in expensive rugs and carpets.
And where there wasn't a rug or carpet, there shone an exorbitant hardwood floor polished to a mirror-like sheen. Every table was made by some famous designer, every piece of furniture worth more than quadruple my salary.
The sofas are reclined, like those stereotypical therapist office couches. The tables are pedestals with round, flat surfaces, all carved from the same piece of white marble, with spiderwebs of obsidian black crisscrossing the surface.
Kind of like my mugs, just with different colors. Very cool detail.
Regardless of the, admittedly, very cool neo-greco/roman aesthetic they had going on, the place was fairly packed.
Not shoulder to shoulder packed, but enough that a dozen or so conversational groups had popped up.
As my eyes scan the room, I take another bite of the cake from the plate I'm holding. It's quite good.
Dornun can be seen chatting up the host and a few others by the outdoor fountain, in the outdoor, rooftop garden. On a skyscraper penthouse.
Rich people are wild man.
Regardless, I steel myself as a group approaches me, which I wasn't happy about.
I had already spoken with the industrial magnates I wanted to, making political friends and such, subtly implanting the idea of Mindan contracts by mentioning the shipyard's problems. After all, the shipyard just desperately needs ship parts. And if one or two of you started manufacturing them?
Well, there might be a solid set of deals waiting for you. Of course, the shipyard isn't in such a bad spot that it is actually desperate, but the more they think that, the more likely they are to retool their factories.
Still, I had accomplished my goals for the night, and now even more people want to talk to me!?
"Ah, good evening Governor! Quite the view, yes?"
The first to speak was a boisterous man with an excess of, let's say, belt length. His mustache was also quite long, curling up into an almost cartoonish handlebar.
"Ah, Mr. Dragnati, how nice to meet you" I responded, already knowing him. While not someone I came here to meet, he was on the dossier Dornun had given me. Chairman of a fairly sized agricultural concern, with stocks in various other enterprises across the neighboring Clacis sector.
A sector I was interested in due to Gwori Revolutionary Industries, an old CIS Munificent manufacturer. The potential there for shipyard expansion was quite nice, if I was able to sweep in as they collapsed, as I could foresee them doing in a few years.
"Yes, it's quite nice to meet you too, my good man! Please, let me introduce my pride and joy, Gloriana Dragnati!"
My gaze locks onto the aforementioned pride and joy while digging up information from the dossier. Gloriana Dragnati was a young woman a few years my senior, around 4 or so, sporting her fathers tanned skin, if just a shade darker from her mothers side. With long, curling, practically neon red hair, it provided quite the contrast.
Regardless of her choice of hair dye, the dossier had more interesting things to say about her, though her father beat my mind to recollect the information.
"She's an incredible negotiator! Why, just in the past month she's snagged the company quite a few small scale contracts with ease! Given time, she will take my place and lead the concern towards bright, profitable futures."
Ah, I see. He's talking her up quite a lot. Combined with the shy looks she's giving me, I can assume he wants to set me up with her. Not happening. But her skills are of interest.
"Negotiating, yes?" I turned to her. "Ms. Dragnati, pray tell, where did you receive your education?"
She looked a little surprised that I was addressing her directly but responded nonetheless.
"I studied Business at Coronet University, and Law at the Coruscant College of Law."
It takes every muscle in my body practically seizing up to stop my eyes from widening comically. Coronet University, in Coronet City, on Corellia!? And then a second degree at the Coruscant College of Law!?
Holy shit, how did they afford that? How did she get in? I've got to ask Myr'thos what kind of Sith fucking alchemy they used because that sounds so absolutely fucking impossible its not even funny.
Regaining my composure, and ignoring whatever bullshit her father was talking about, some dinner plans or whatever, I focused entirely on her.
"Miss, how would you like a job?"
"...Huh?"
-
I got home that night a very happy man. Negotiations with Ms Dragnati had gone splendidly.
It turns out, she got into both universities through scholarships, her fathers money and influence (of which he had very little in the Core) and sheer academic brilliance.
Just under the makeup that she smeared off wiping her eyes, I remember spotting some very, very deep bags, indicative of an incredibly hard working person.
Someone with those degrees from those universities? An absolute shoe-in for Oioros department.
Aside from all that politicking, not much got truly done. I mean, sure, I got some ideas for a revision of employment laws on Minda, but that will take a while to set up and stress test, so its not a prominent concern.
Instead, I start taking a look at the reports coming out of Verndar. Apparently there was an increasing amount of suspected political assassinations. I suppose a lot of those countries really hate each other, cause even with Imperial ships in orbit they're still finding ways to kill each other.
I respect it, honestly.
Regardless, as much as I'd like to just wipe some government away to make an example, that would be bad for PR, and would cause increased distrust amongst the Verndari populace.
Their pride as a species has already been hurt badly by the very nature of having been conquered. I'm not going to hurt it more by coming in there and messing with all of their stuff or systems, and certainly not by killing a shit ton of their people to 'send a message'.
Instead, I'll just have an investigative team dispatched to ensure things get smoothed over.
As I was about to do so, a message appeared on my terminal. A priority request for audience.
From Thorne. At nearly midnight.
I sigh, already imagining the headache.
-
Made buttered noodles. Fucked it up somehow. Used actual unsalted cooking butter instead of the fake butter.
Also been listening to the Tron: Ares soundtrack. I hear the movie is mid (Jared Leto curse) but, as always, Tron cooks with the music.
Nine Inch Nails fucking nailed it (pun intended), especially with As Alive As You Need Me To Be. Absolute fucking banger.
-Freefaller
Natelord28
Know what you're doing yet?
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Good chappy!
Fearless444
Not too sore, are you?
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Thanks for the chapter
AldariSiradla
Spirit Boy, Police Girl
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Reminds me of a guy I saw on TV once.
A licensed engineer, a registered nurse, a certified doctor, and an attorney.
Some Sith alchemy right there alright.
At least, new subordinate getto!
Battle_Unit_3
Not too sore, are you?
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It took me way too long to realize this is not part of the story but an authors notes
Watching
Not too sore, are you?
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Nah, something is definitely up with those immigration rates.
Yacov
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Given how you put the fear of the Force in Kabbas in the last meeting, I am sure there is no room for misunderstandings.
That pause was definitely not ominous and stress inducing on Kabbas' end.
Corporations are going to loathe and fear her. At least Las has a good gatekeeper for Corporations trying shenanigans.
I am sure this isn't the start of a massive wave of migration. People don't tend to migrate towards places that already have ethnic enclaves do they? Sullust only has what, at least a billion people?
Ugea having a city tourism industry when Dubrillion is around the galactic corner is insane. Guess Minda has reached interesting small city status.
A reminder for all the power Las has, he still isn't paying himself well. If his finances get leaked, I can imagine his public support will somehow skyrocket even more.
Says the leader of two systems and founder of a sector spanning business alliance.
It could be far worse Las. Her hair could be in a rectangular Nova Sundari-style, or put into solloops.
When you try to get your daughter a powerful husband and she winds up with a successful career in a rapidly growing sector.
Send Myr'thos, I am sure that will go well.
oscar e Sampedro Lopez
Well worn.
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Thanks for the chapter.