Governor's Gambit - Star Wars SI into Imperial Governor

Yacov · Jun 6, 2026

Omake: PER-C Light Duty

Production Information

Manufacturer: Cushions Express (subsidiary of the Imperial Guild of Commerce, Production, and Protection)

Model: PER-C Light Duty

Type: Light duty scout ship

Cost:

52,000 credits new (military model)
42,000 credits new (civilian export model)

——

Technical Specifications

Length: 8 meters

Width: 12 meters

Height: 2.25 meters

Engine unit(s): 2 Hoersch-Kessel ion drives

Maximum atmospheric speed: 900 km/h

Hyperdrive: none

Shielding: decent civilian grade shield generator

Power: civilian grade fusion generator

Hull: titanium hull

Sensors: medium range sensors outside of the holocam system

Armament:

Standard military model
- 1 laser cannon
Civilian model
- None
Modified fighter-bomber model
- 1 L-s1 laser cannon
- Small bomber bay

Crew: 2

1 pilot
1 reconnaissance specialist

Minimum crew: 1

Passengers: Up to 2

Cargo Capacity: 200 kg, more if the two passenger seats are removed

Life Support: high quality

Consumables: 5 days

Other systems:

Wide canopy
Comfy seats
Enhanced stabilizers
Enhanced internal thermal regulation
57C holocam
Longe range data transmitter
"Piercing Wail" model distress beacon

——

Usage

Availability: Licensed

Roles:

Reconnaissance
Non-combat military duties
Military trainer
Racing starfighter
Civil touring

Affiliation:

PDFs
Fourth line military formations
Low ranking starfighter racers
Civilian touring companies

——

Description
"And if you look on the left you will see a lovely view of the valleys just outside of Edinspire." - Highreach Canyon Tours pilot giving an update during their civil tour flight.

The PER-C is a light duty small craft designed for low priority scouting missions and other non-combat operations. This starship has maintained an untainted reputation despite being manufactured and utilized by the Galactic Empire. The PER-C also enjoys a niche in the civilian market as a touring and racing ship with its unarmed civilian variant.

Procurement History
"We don't need another TIE or some hanger queen. We just want an affordable ship that can do a quiet patrol and get back to base with minimal chance of issues." - Wording of the procurement officer when discussing their requirements.

At the dawn of 2 ABY the Myto sector was facing a starfighter frame shortage. The uptick in piratical activity proved to be increasingly more severe throughout the sector. Sector and system forces responded by building and refitting more TIEs to frontline postings. Things were getting so bad some system navies were resorting to plundering outdated Y-wings from local salvage yards.

This increasing frontward facing focus would have its consequences however. Low priority patrol routes were left undersupplied as flights that were flown by the TIE Light Duty lagged behind or were not flown at all as anti-pirate patrols kept being given greater priority. Using shuttles proved nonviable as they were required for an ever increasing amount supply runs and requests for Viper probe droids were denied as sectors with significant Rebel activity were deemed higher priority.

The issue was made startlingly clear when a pirate raid surprised a remote research facility on the world of Quxitol, making off with substantial quantities of scientific equipment. This brazen attack was a wake up call and the a short term procurement contract was put out for a ship design to perform non-combat missions until the situation calmed down or production of other platforms could be increased.

Representatives of major shipbuilding firms such as Kuat and Seinar did not even bother to respond to the contract. They saw it as too short term and limited in scope to invest the capital into. A design that would only be in limited production for a few years was considered not worth their time and the effort of retooling production when demand for more profitable designs was at an all time high. This left the military contract up for grabs for smaller players, and eventually it reluctantly fell into the hands of Cushions Express, a civilian ship manufacturer within the IGCPP.

Design
"Would I want to fight in a PER-C over a TIE? No. Would I want to fly a long patrol without combat in a PER-C over a TIE? Definitely." - Imperial pilot comparing the amenity differences of a PER-C and a TIE.

Cushions Express built their designs with crew comfort and reliability in mind and the Peripheral Environment Reconnaissance Craft, or PER-C for short, continued in this design philosophy. A relatively large amount of Credits were spent on pilot comforts as compared to a standard TIE. Comfortable seating for long flights that the company also put in its civilian designs, a wide canopy for viewing with your eyes instead of relying mostly on sensors, enhanced stabilizers for long flights, and a more spacious and pressurized cockpit with enhanced temperature controls to be able to take off your pressurized helmet mid flight for some fresher temperate air. It got to the point that some the procurement committee tried to argue the pilot amenities were excessive and could potentially damage discipline. However Cushions Express managed to lower the price enough due to already having the supply chains set up for other projects that those concerns were dismissed.

The shape of the PER-C was more wide than long with most of that width taken up by the wings. Its two engines were placed next to the body of the plane rather than the tips of the wings. Once again there was some pushback citing the ship would not fit in hangars designed for the smaller TIEs. However it was pointed out that these bases were already suffering from a ship shortage and most were designed to fit Lambda shuttles, so finding space for the wider ship shouldn't be an issue.

The most technically sophisticated piece of equipment in the PER-C was a 57C holocam modified to take reconnaissance holographic images. The military grade holocam was installed in the bottom of the craft and could be retracted back into the body to avoid damaging it. Those high detail images could be transmitted back to base from hundreds of kilometers away for current or later review on a holoprojector. This was often enough for simple patrols from back line bases in low conflict areas.

Unfortunately commissioning a company that primarily manufactured civilian ships for a military project did have its drawbacks. Outside of the holocam, Cushions Express did not have the access or clearance for most other military grade technologies and components. This resulted in the PER-C being composed primarily of civilian technologies such as the propulsion being two Hoersch-Kessel ion drives instead of a more militarized drive like the twin ion engine and a weaker laser cannon than a L-s1. Even if such components were available, the power draw from the long range data transmitter and the shields meant that the PER-C would be unable to power more powerful weapons or engines with its standard power generation. This resulted in a ship that was evaluated as overall weaker than the starfighter it was replacing in terms of speed and combat performance.

There were efforts by buyers to enhance the combat utility of the PER-C. One common post-purchase modification was to remove most of the holocam compartment and replace it with a rather anemic bomber bay. This change made a PER-C capable of launching a small barrage of unguided bombs all at once downwards relative to the craft via a simple repulsor installed in the top of the bay. Enough firepower to soften up the defenses of a small town or an unfortified criminal hideout for the ground troops. Its electronics systems modified for calculating targeting solutions rather than for scouting purposes. The removal of the long range data transmission capability allowed for the laser cannon to be upgraded to an L-s1 bringing this variant up to half the fighter-to-fighter firepower of a standard TIE/ln. This turned the PER-C into a below mediocre fighter-bomber for formations struggling to source better bombers such as TIE Bombers or decades old Y-wings to destroy hard targets.

However this poor combat potential did little to dissuade the PER-C's designers in making the best ship they could. Rather than bemoan their lack of access to most of the military supply chain, they turned it to their advantage. In parallel with the military PER-C development, Cushions Express worked on a civilian export model with the military components and weaponry removed and the military grade holocam changed out for a civilian one. This civilian model would swap reconnaissance flights and supply runs for civil touring and in-system courier contracts.

The heavy use of widely available civilian components in both models allowed the production lines to be swapped between the two fairly quickly as needed. Given the temporary nature of the production contract and the low evaluation of the ship, the Imperial government turned a blind eye to this practice. Labeling it as an acceptable cost of acquiring a solution to their temporary shortage from the civilian sector.

Typical Pilots
"You can't be mad at someone for winning a race in a PER-C. It is just too respectable." - A common saying in the racer community.

The PER-C is a starship that straddles two worlds. On one side it is expected to operate in a military setting and keep consistently performing even under less than ideal conditions. On the other side it was also designed to be appealing to a private consumer who wants to be comfortable and enjoy the activity of flying. This is expressed in the two kinds of pilots that the PER-C is known for.

First are those pilots that tend to fly the military and unmodified civilian models. These pilots tend to be on the older side with a reliable, mature nature. They don't fly for glory or the adrenaline of combat, but rather to earn a paycheck and support whatever dependents or long term expenses they have. While none of them are ace pilots, they have a reputation for consistent performance with lower instances of burnout and volatility from continuous flights than average. Nevertheless when backed into a corner they can often prove deceptively skilled at evading enemy fire and keeping their cool.

The second kind of pilot the PER-C attracts are amateur starfighter racers. They take advantage of the export models' cheap price and generous space to modify it to their personal tastes and turn it into a racing starfighter. Racers would often shave down the wings and convert the space meant for passengers and cameras into a bigger reactor and more thrusters. While these variants are not good enough to compete with starfighters specially designed for the sport, the PER-C is a decent option for beginner racers who have yet to attract a sponsor. These pilots are often amateurs in it for the fun of the sport and value comfort and enjoyment over peak performance. They might not always be at the podium, but they tend to always have drinking buddies at the afterparty.

Conclusion

"Flying in my PER-C is all I can do these days with my bad back, but I wouldn't trade the feeling of taking to the skies for anything." - Retired Imperial pilot in an interview following his honorable discharge.

The PER-C at its core is a workhorse more than a warhorse or a racehorse. Designed for those who military pilots who have lost the taste for glory, but still have the desire to fly whether for duty, adventure, or just to pay the bills. It might not be high spec, but it can certainly do the lazy low priority patrols while the real dogfighters go off and fight pirates, Rebels, and other things that will try to kill them. Yet the second life in the civilian market proved it had worth beyond the short lived contract it was designed for.

——

Figured with all the TIEs getting converted to better and more expensive refits, something had to take its place for all the not shooting stuff. For all the focus on high spec top of the line fighters, a no nonsense basic aircraft to handle non-combat military flights outside of logistics is also essential in any sane air force. And no, suicide sleds where all the corners deemed unnecessary are cut for mass production like the standard TIE don't count. There is a difference.

Inspiration for this one is the Percival Vega Gull, a British wood and fabric plane produced in the latter half of the 1930s and was retired in 1945. It had a respectable service record in both civilian and military aviation history that didn't revolve around killing people. Which is impressive considering what was happening in the 30s and 40s. Inspiration for the shape came from the Northrop XP-79. A failed plane design built in 1945 that I feel captures the logic and whimsy that Star Wars' ships are known for. Look at it and tell me it wouldn't fit in a Star Wars starport or fleet overlook scene. I ended up giving it the Percival's body length so it could fit the 4 people for the civil touring role.

Crossposted on SB and SV

Freefaller · Jun 8, 2026

Chp-116-Interlude

Ecressys
Velcar Sector
2.6 ABY
1 month post holo-net crisis

"...and I assure you, this will not happen again. More opportunities will come your way, of that I can promise."

The merchants and magnates arrayed before him seemed at best only slightly mollified by his words, if their grumbling was anything to go by. Still, his relief was palpable as they left the holo call one by one.

Only once he was alone in his office did his sigh. These damned merchants, couldn't they give him a break!

Sure, he'd promised them the deal of a lifetime. The entire Myto Sector, open and ripe for expansion. The deal he struck with that slimy Moff Mola was supposed to give Velcar merchants every advantage possible!

Better prices, better deals, and the ability to expand their companies into the sector as they saw fit! Sure, it was only until the holonet crisis ended, but that should've lasted months!

By the time it was over, Velcar interests would have a major power bloc in the sector, making further expansion easier. Instead, within a week most of the relays were back online, and now nearly a month later the sector was nearly back to its previous state.

But the worst part? The Velcar oligarchs kept harassing him about it! Even after all this time, they were still on his ass about his failure to ensure a good opportunity, making snide comments about getting a better Moff.

Now his position was in danger, and he was stuck there, having to appease the snakes that surrounded him.

"Master?" came a voice to his side. A Twi'lek girl, young and green skinned. He couldn't place her name yet, she hadn't been around enough for him to bother remembering it.

"What is it!" he snapped, too annoyed to even enjoy her still developing curves.

"Gregor Raquoran sent out an invitation to most Commerce Zone members for a gala in his palace. The Governor-General has been invited as well."

The slaves shaking hands held out a datapad, and he snatched it from her, waving her away with his other hand. As he read through the invitation, a growing sense of unease washed over him.

This invite wasn't for him, of course, but one his people had intercepted. Gregor was a longtime rival, the obese wall of flesh having angled for his seat for years. But Ecressys was smarter than that.

He knew Gregor would jump at this opportunity. But the Governor-General? Hiral was by and large focused on the mid-rim sections of the oversector.

No, the Governor-General wouldn't go – a representative! Less power, yet a connection to Hiral nonetheless, and more easily bribed at that!

The datapad went flying, slamming into the wall as screamed in rage. Damn that Moff Mola and his trickery!

–

Darna Sabrir
Minda System
2.7 ABY
2 months post holo-net crisis

Darna Sabrir considered herself something of a rational person.

Oh, sure, she had her moments of anger and passion. But for the most part, she maintained a professional and controlled demeanor.

After all, she was Guildmistress of the IGCPP. Her word had immense political and economic power, and it was her responsibility to wield that power with sound judgement.

Yet, as she'd already said, Darna had her moments of anger. Of passion. It was why she started HAVEN, after all. Why she worked with that stuck up ISB officer.

It was why she was cackling like a madwoman as she read the report before her.

After the Holonet crisis, HAVEN had been hard at work scouring for any possible source of the attack. The kill teams had been prepped for immediate deployment at any sign of a source.

She'd never seen Las sign off on an order so quickly. Then again, she'd never seen Las that angry.

Scared, sure. Nervous, on occasion. Tired just about all the time. But angry? It was a new one.

They hadn't found anything, though they kept looking. Agents scoured the sector, but leads were few and far in between, and had yet to lead to anything coming close to notable.

But that hadn't been the only place they'd looked. After the Velcar sector put forth that awful deal, Las had ordered HAVEN to cause a little mischief there.

The Velcar Sector, being the premier slavery capital of the Oversector, was a target HAVEN was all too happy to go after.

And the report before her detailed just that.

Nothing huge, no. That wasn't the goal. But small things. Technical malfunctions that meant the environmental regulator was a little off, so when some magnates sat down for a meeting, they were sweatier than they should've been. Uncomfortable, so to speak.

And when powerful people with too much pride and too little sense are uncomfortable, they get irritable.

That meeting hadn't devolved into a screaming match, but it had come close.

Another was paying off a waiter to bring one magnate's guest a smaller, colder portion during a dinner. The guest saw it as a slight, and stewed silently in anger while the others chatted away carefree.

These things weren't the larger info gathering operations HAVEN was used to within the Myto sector. But, given time, the ego of the slavers would do most of the work for them.

Especially when laxatives were involved. Those were her favorite to read.

The more chaos reigned in the Velcar sector, the safer Myto was. And eventually, she hoped HAVEN would have the power to start covertly freeing slaves throughout Velcar space.

A long way off, she knew. Las was many things, but reckless wasn't one of them. He'd wait, as he always did, and while she didn't always agree with his choices she respected the command structure.

After all, it ensured that Thorne, with that stick up his ass, was kept in check. Hell, the stick was probably up to Imperial regulations!

"Ma'am" came the voice of her secretary through the intercom "your shuttle is ready."

"I'll be right out." she responded, as she took one last look at herself in the mirror. Her dress was an ocean blue, with golden stars shooting across its features. Various strips of looser fabric hung from her arms and lekku, toned to lighter shades reminiscent of shallow seas

All planned, of course, as she was off to a dinner with both representatives of Abyssal Industries and Quarren United. The latter being a newcomer to the sector and wanting space on the same water-moon that Abyssal currently dominated.

After all, the Myto Sector had just become more enticing after showcasing its ability to bounce back from a crisis so easily. Business was booming, from a nascent local hyperdrive and nav-computer industry to shipyards galore, it was a true center of local commerce.

So, she was to settle the dispute over a lovely dinner, ensuring both parties got their share and played nice with local laws. Though, if she was being honest, she would be trying to get the Quarrens to stay.

They may be an isolationist species, but if they knew anything about Mon Calamari shield designs, it would be worth it.

Ife would owe her big time.

–

Jir Coru
Minda System
2.8 ABY
3 months post holo-net crisis

"Given the information arrayed before me, I will be denying your promotion to Rank IV."

Jir's voice was smooth, her assessment delivered with the crisp tone of someone used to command.

In the corner of her vision, her Yewcast Augmented Reality glasses listed cultural tonalities.

Cultural Persuasion Note: Mandalorians value honor, discipline, and martial might. Maintain eye contact and keep speech clear and concise.

Perfect. It wasn't as though she operated in any other way.

Across from her desk, a helmeted Mandalorian sat, emotionless visor staring back at her. The beskar shone in the soft lighting of the meeting room.

The lighting was reminiscent of the light of Mandalore's star, a part of the Guild's cultural accommodation. As Mandalorians wore full armor and Mandalore itself was only livable within climate controlled dome-cities, full environmental regulation was unneeded.

Better than dealing with Wookies. Kashyyyk's climate was so humid she'd had to wear a special uniform to keep from sweating or wiping her brow constantly.

"...and why is that?" His confusion was evident, laced with an almost accusatory undertone.

If Jir hadn't read the man's file beforehand, his tone of voice would've told her everything she needed to know.

"While your status as a Mandalorian Clan Mercenary does give you some benefits, it does not entitle you to advancement past Rank III without a proper promotion. And currently, while your skills are up to par for a Rank IV, your client-side skills are abysmal."

He scoffed, leaning forward as though to challenge her claim, but Jir barreled onwards. Giving abrasive types like him a chance to retaliate was always a bad idea. Her time at the academy had taught her much.

"We've received dozens of complaints from various clients regarding your conduct. Your after-action reports are barely competent. And you often leave mission sites a smoldering wreck."

"Keeping them intact is optional!"

"Not if you want a promotion. Now, it's not as though this is unfixable." She wasn't quite sure of that, but upselling was the name of the game in the Guild. Her glasses were filled with small 'side quests', as they were called.

Frivolous, but Jir excelled in all things, and that would include selling mercenaries courses on 'Intricacies of Alderaanian Baking' if that meant rising higher.

"Your client-side skills can be improved by taking this set of courses" a press of a button had the rooms miniature holoprojector light up, listing five courses on client mannerisms, common cultural taboos for the most common species and cultures, and more.

"As a Clan Mercenary these are covered by your Clan contract and should function adequately as a starting point. However, better performance can be achieved by attending our advanced courses, such as Advanced Conflict-Descalation and courses in alternative mission-completion methods."

Successfully Advertised: Advanced Courses +15GP

Another dozen courses appeared on the list, these of course being paid courses. The Mando's helmet moved slightly as he read through the list.

"Low Observability Infil-Exfil? Psychological Warfare and Fabricated Realities? Non-Lethal Subjugation and Containment? These are fools games! I am a Mandalorian, and my enemies will face the wrath of my blaster–"

"And you will stay unpromoted." Jir butted in, killing off his momentum. "Most mercenaries average out at RIII, so staying at the rank is perfectly acceptable for someone of your current competency. However, RIV members are held to higher, stricter standards. They accept more difficult missions, work in more delicate and variable environments, and are therefore expected to exude excellence."

The meeting continued, the Mandalorian bringing up more and more points, and getting shot down time and time again. At the same time, Jir ensured she continued to advertise as many things as possible.

Successfully Advertised: Tolerance Courses +15GP

Successfully Advertised: Advanced Starfighter Training +15GP

Successfully Advertised: TR-55 "Coral" Blaster Pistol +5GP

Successfully Advertised: Introduction to Alderaanian Baking +30GP

By the end of it, Jir left content with the work she had done, and the Mandalorian left without a promotion, and a schedule packed with classes.

Not to mention, she'd earned a large amount of Guild Points. That free Luxury PDA was hers! It could sell for at least 200 Credits at the right places.

At that point, the day was over. In her mind, a map appeared of her route to her apartment. She could check her PDA, of course, but it was always prudent to have a perfect mental map. You never knew.

From the office, she'd take the train down to the Kailin district to run some errands and pick up a new blaster from her contact. Unregistered, of course, the other unregistered pistol didn't have a secure enough background for her liking, it was just the cheapest she could manage.

Under her uniform, she subtly adjusted the armoring hidden beneath. A holdover from her days as an Imperial Commandant, she'd had some flexible armor plating fitted to her proportions. They fit well under this new uniform as well, and she always wore them. They were rated for low level blasters, vibroblades and variety of other threats.

From there, she'd pick up groceries from that small store on the corner run by one of the Tula natives. They only sold native foodstuffs, and at least for the moment got tax breaks to help integration making their products cheaper. She already had backup options ready for when said tax break ended.

After that, it would only be a quick stop at– "Hey Jir!"

Annoyance settled across her mind even as a polite smile graced her features. "Hello, Melandre."

The Torgruta just smiled that blinding, irritating smile of hers. "Me and the others were going out for a drink or two. You want in?"

No, Jir thought, I don't want in. "I see no reason why not."

But what she wanted wasn't relevant here. What she needed was an in.

This so called 'friend group' had been remarkably difficult to ingratiate herself to. But her progress on other fronts was stalled, so this was her best bet. Make 'friends' here, and use them to rise up the ranks.

That was how she found herself in a bar, two hours and three drinks later.

"...and then she came back, holding a blaster twice her size, asking if it was regulation!"

Jir hadn't thought Colber was one for comedy, but once drunk apparently she was. Somewhere in the distance, she thought she heard someone laughing alongside the others.

The joke was funny, she thought. Outloud, she said–

"Ha! Tha's a sharp one. Wha's a good circuit-burner, an' da's no slaggin' lie. Har'ly breathed, I did."

The others stopped, eyes staring at her. What? She thought, I just said–

Her heart skipped a beat. She didn't say 'the joke was funny'. Her eyes darted to the menu a second slower than she would've liked.

She hadn't read the alcohol percentage. Melandre had ordered for all of them.

The others were still staring. Her heart was beating faster now. She let the accent out. In a quick motion, under the table, she brought a fingernail down hard on the soft flesh between her index finger and thumb.

Pain emanated from the nerve point, washing over her, the adrenaline fighting back just a bit against the inebriation.

"I gotta–I must be on my way." she said abruptly, already on her feet. She heard questions, a protest or two, but it didn't matter. Her bag was around her shoulder and she was gone.

First, into the bathroom. She ran the sink cold, filled it up and plunged her whole head in, waiting a few seconds without breathing to activate more of her fight or flight response.

After that, she took the back exit. Her mental map wouldn't be reliable. Instead, she plotted the quickest route to her apartment using her PDA. A quick few button presses overlaid the route onto her glasses. Her personal ones, of course.

From there, she was off. Her mind focused on one thing at a time. Stay no more than 6 inches from the nearest wall, walk straight, keep all items of value in your bag, and your bag held with both arms.

Yet, a part of her mind didn't focus on that. Instead, it reran that moment at the bar over and over again. Berating her, mocking her. Telling her she never really left Coruscant, did she. Not truly.

A part of her would always live in those tunnels.

The route was longer than normal, on account of the metro that normally connected right with her building being maintained. Instead, she was forced to navigate the city by foot.

She could've taken another form of public transit, but in that moment her mind was focusing on as few variables as possible. The less she had to track, the fewer chances for the inebriation to cause problems.

The longer route took her through mostly main streets. However, a few necessitated shorter paths, cutting through the narrow alleys of the city between the shadows of skyscrapers.

It was in one such alley that someone tried to mug her.

He was tall, human looking, though most other details escaped her. He was talking, something about money or whatnot. It didn't matter. She didn't back down from fools like this.

Out of pocket came a knife. Shit. She wasn't going to be fast enough to draw on him.

Instead, she backed up into the wall behind her. Removing any chance of flanking, and anchoring her. Inebriation would just make fancy footwork and dodging impossible.

Her arms started to come up, a defensive posture. Catch the blade on her arm, get him as he overextended. Then the blade started to hum.

Vibroblade.

She raised her arms higher, extending outwards closer to eye level. If that thing hit her arms she'd lose one. Better to let the armor tank it.

The man lunged, arm extending outwards. It hit, buzzing noise slicing through the air.

Instead of gutting her like a fish, the blade caught on her armor, shredding the cloth above.

He started to pull back, readying another stab but she was already on him, hand on his head, fingers scrabbling–

A scream ripped through the night, painful and high.

Her thumb was in his eyesocket, glove only barely muting the sensation as the eye popped beneath her finger. The sudden pressure brought heat with it, blood and intraoculur gel flooding into the cavity.

The other eye went next, the Jir bringing her other hand to bear. The mugger hadn't stopped screaming, blade already dropped on the ground as his hands rushed up to his face, desperate to stop the pain.

As he tumbled down, body spasming in agony, Jir went for the weapon. It slid easily into his heart, no more resistance than poking a finger through paper.

She left it there. The gloves ensured no prints would be left behind, and keeping a murder weapon was always a bad idea. Instead, she removed the gloves, hiding them in her bag as she left the alley post-haste.

It took another twenty minutes, but she arrived at her apartment. Tired, drunk, and feeling as though the world was coming apart.

Part of her wanted to curl up in her bed and cry like she used to. Back when she was dragging herself through Imperial society from the underworld, every day feeling like it was all coming apart around her, a crisis that never ended.

But she was better than that now. Even drunk, she refused to wallow in misery. Instead, she took up her PDA and added a note to it. She was buying Insta-Focus shots ASAP, so as to avoid this inebriation fiasco in the future.

Jir had worked too hard, buried too many bodies, to let this be her end.

That little girl in the sunless underside died down there, and it would stay that way.

–

Yo. Did a lot of research for this part. For Ecressys, I dug into the psychology of slavers, specifically chattel slavers in the American South. Very interesting stuff, saw themselves as almost paternal figures, had a whole system of honor. Very 'you are courting death junior brother!' vibe.

As for Jir, I actually based her off my own mom. Not in the sense that my mom is a bad person, far from it. But in the sense that my mom came to America with no English skills and through sheer perseverance dragged herself into graduating from a great college with honors in the 90's with a major accent. Not easy. And while Jir has had an objectively harder life, many lessons could be learned. Its why I chose to give Jir an underworld accent of sorts she hides.

Honestly, I straight up interviewed my mom on her life to write Jir better, and while it doesn't all come across here, it will in future appearances. Its super interesting the things a harsh life does to people, like for example making them super goal oriented, at least in my mom and Jir's case.

-Freefaller

Freefaller · Jun 18, 2026

OFFICIAL SECTOR ADVISORY | MSD-CENSUS-STAT-8812

SUBJECT Demographic and Economic Classification of Sector Systems

DISTRIBUTION Office of the Moff, Myto Sector Economic Council, Imperial Statistics Bureau

AUTHORIZATION Ministry of Internal Development

CLASSIFICATION Restricted Administrative Data

SECTION I REPORT OVERVIEW

This dossier serves as the definitive census record for the Myto Sector. Note that this census is not 100% comprehensive due to persistent challenges in data collection across remote systems. Many localized governments currently lack the administrative infrastructure required to execute comprehensive tracking. Furthermore the sector population undergoes continuous expansion. Sector records indicate the total population grew from 500 million to 521 million over the previous five year cycle.

Statistical analysis reveals that inbound immigration accounts for 50% of this net population growth. Crucially this influx is not static but has accelerated significantly each year of the cycle. Because this immigration rate continues to climb under expanding Ministry sponsored relocation initiatives the historical growth curve is no longer a reliable baseline. Accounting for this compounding acceleration the sector population is now projected to experience an aggressive upward trajectory. Current models estimate the population will reach approximately 548 million within the next five years and surpass 578 million over the next decade. This compounding influx of immigrant labor requires an immediate acceleration of resource allocation and administrative scaling to prevent infrastructure strain.

SECTION II SYSTEM CLASSIFICATION DEFINITIONS

Developed Systems are the twenty six systems serving as the bedrock of sector wealth. They are strategically positioned along major hyperlane corridors and host the highest concentrations of planetary commerce, administrative centers, and deep space logistics hubs. This tier now officially includes the Minda system due to its unmatched industrial footprint.
Settled Systems represent the sector growth engine. Transitioning away from purely extractive economies, these worlds have developed significant local manufacturing bases and growing centers of trade. They demonstrate consistent industrial maturity and use extracted wealth locally instead of sending it entirely out of system.
Frontier Systems are younger worlds that are often the focus of active government colonization and land grant programs aiming to relocate the destitute to worlds where they are given land and opportunity. Overwhelmingly centered on agricultural output and raw resource extraction, these systems are seeing a rapid uptick in both population and localized production due to various government initiatives.

Freefaller · Jun 28, 2026

Las
2.9 ABY
Belladoon System

Gleaming grey plates of durasteel filled my vision, an all encompassing array of metal. Across the hull of the ship, weapons bristled, each a promise of violence as of yet unfulfilled.

In the void of space before me sat the Arbiter-II, newly built to celebrate the opening of the new Belladoon shipyards. In every way an upgrade from the original. Not just a kitbash of other Imperial ships stitched together in an emergency, this was purpose built.

Its armament was better as well, sporting a well rounded complement of turbolasers, ion cannons and laser cannons. Not as powerful as a Victory, but it wasn't meant to be.

Honestly, it didn't seem that different from the Arbiter-I. But the techs were insistent on the differences, and I had a doctorate in poli-sci, not naval architecture, so I didn't say anything.

Instead, my eyes were more focused on the shapes beyond the Arbiter. The spindly form of Mako-Ta.

Well, it wasn't called that anymore. These aren't the Mako-Ta yards, officer! No, these are the legally distinct BellYards! Where did we get them…? Found them laying around, promise.

I had to stop myself from laughing, because that was the legit excuse I used. Well, the actual statement was something more like 'this derelict was found and acquired for the purposes of further bolstering the might of the empire!'.

Throw in some nationalistic pride and support of the military industrial complex and just about anything passes in the empire.

Now the yards sat above Belladoon, looking exactly as they had before, but with an Imperial-grey coat of paint and some Imperial sigils slapped on the side.

I kept staring at it, not because it was interesting to me in a visual sense, but because if I turned my attention back to the room, people might come up to me.

Many small crowds of magnates and the wealthy had gathered in groups around the viewing platform. Thankfully they'd not gathered around me.

The party had started that way, but I deployed an age old method of getting rid of unwanted guests.

Being boring!

For me, that meant yapping about political/economic events I studied as part of the job in excruciating detail. These people are all business owners and industrialists. If I talked taxes or trade they'd be salivating for even the tiniest bit of insider info.

But a day by day breakdown of the economic consequences of the blockade of Naboo? Perfect.

Of course, that was only deployed after nearly an hour and a half of normal politicking. Which was mostly a mix of answering legitimate concerns about the yards and trade and such, and people flaunting their companies compliance.

The Auditors' very public arrests were getting to people, and I'd had no less than a dozen different magnates show me their companies quarterly reports as though to flaunt how compliant their companies were with the various anti-corruption and pro-labor laws I'd put in place.

The Auditors are only there to arrest Imperial officials of high standing, not businessmen, but I guess their reputation is really up there.

"It looks quite nice. Certainly better built than the originals." I resisted the urge to sigh as I was reminded of the company I had for this party.

"That's not what you're here to say, is it?" I respond to Dornun Mola, sending a sideways glance towards the older man.

His genial smile was betrayed by the look in his eyes, a calculating thing that made me feel as though I was being picked apart within his mind.

"Oh, you're no fun Las." he sighed dramatically, the back of his hand up against his forehead as though he was about to faint. "But you are correct, I'm not just here for pleasantries."

The quickest glance of his eyes towards a different part of the room led me to lift my drink up and take a sip, turning as I did to allow myself a sweeping view of the room, and the corner he had aimed for.

"Which one?" I asked, having spotted the group of a half dozen people gathered around a table, chatting about.

"The fat one."

"All of them are fat."

"The mustachioed fellow, with the faded hairline and a wife a quarter his age."

"Yeah, I see him. A local defense contractor, right?"

Dornun nodded, sipping on his drink. "Correct, Marus Olitor. I've caught wind that he's been sabotaging his competition. The General is quite picky on ground vehicles I hear, and he seeks to make his product the best of an overall poor showing."

I wanted to rub my temples in frustration, but I was in public. Instead, I hummed noncommittally. Mugwuffin, curled around my neck like a scaled scarf, hummed with me.

"It seems to have become something of a culture in the region. Few of the contractors can build anything up to the Generals standards, which many have said very rude things about."

"Joy." I respond in monotone. "Zulitra has been less than chipper as of late, and I suppose this is why. I'll have this forwarded to the proper offices and dealt with. How have they been reacting to the shipyard?"

A chuckle escaped him. "They've been scrambling. I've had a dozen requests from them the past week alone for information on one another. Most don't even have ship designs, and are reaching for the yards to deny their competitors the income."

Ah yes, his info gathering business. Not something I pried too heavily into, though I had authorized an eye to be kept on him. He dealt with high society wheelers and dealers, meaning sometimes he had to get his hands dirty to stay in the business.

So long as he kept it reasonable, I allowed it. The info he gathered was valuable enough to both me and HAVEN. Of course, I kept a close eye on him regardless. People like him love playing the puppet master, and I figured that he would eventually overreach.

"And the outage?"

For the first time, Dornun's smile seemed to truly reach his eyes. "Not a thing!" he exclaimed in an excited whisper. "Whoever orchestrated this attack is incredibly well coordinated and connected! The mystery only grows!"

"...I see." And I did see. Specifically, I saw his almost child-like excitement. He was weird like that, seeming to enjoy the challenge of finding this mystery perpetrator like it was a game.

This info would be going into the slowly growing HAVEN file on him.

–

Imperial Survey Corp
Myto Sector
2.9 ABY

Throughout its existence, the ISC had seen a near constant barrage of budget cuts. From fewer employees to worse equipment, it was an organization that seemed to exist for the sole purpose of having funds taken from it.

The Myto Sector branch, however, had recently seen a resurgence.

"He wants us to do what?" asked the local Director.

"He wants us to do our job, sir."

The Director threw his hands into the air. "The only reason I chose this job was because I didn't want to do any work!"

Such was the sentiment prevalent amongst many members of the Myto Sectors ISC branch. Yet, they were receiving funding, and therefore had no real excuse to not do their jobs.

So, within short order, the ISC was out in the deepest reaches of the sector, seeking out temperamental hyperlanes and unexplored star systems.

At first, it was a breeze. Mapping new lanes, surveying systems, this was a practice perfected thousands of years ago by the Republics explorers.

Sure, on occasion they found systems in use by pirates or cartels, but the MRX-BR ships they were using had been upgraded. Faster engines, stealthier systems, and more, the MRX-BR could slip in and out of a system unseen by the shoddy sensors of pirate scrap-heaps.

But there was a problem. People. Exploring took time. Surveying a single new system took days for even the shortest of surveys, and the Moff was quite explicit in wanting in depth surveys to identify potential resource extraction sites. The kind of work that could take weeks at the minimum, and often months.

The ISC simply didn't have enough people in the region. So, using their newly inflated budget, they took to advertising themselves. Posters, holonet ads, commercial breaks in popular dramas, they did it all.

Explore the galaxy! Find hidden treasures! Serve the Empire!
Join the Survey Corp TODAY!

-ISC recruitment poster, circa 2.9 ABY

The Director thought it enough.

"If we spend all our money on these shitty ads, then we won't have the money to do our jobs, and we can slack off again!"

"Brilliant plan, sir."

"Of course!" he harrumphed, quite pleased with his scheming and trickery.

"However, sir, we have received a message from the Moffs office. Our recruitment quota has been exceeded by five times, and we are receiving additional funding to expand our services."

"...shit."

And so, the ISC was flooded with new applicants, the majority young citizens seeking the adventures they saw in the stories. Unlike the senior staff, who were a jaded and lazy bunch, convinced their careers were to go nowhere and content in their stagnation, this fresh new wave brought with it an enthusiasm not seen in generations.

After all, these weren't the average Imperial youth. No, these were the youth of the Myto Sector.

A youth who were growing up in a time of great change led by one of the youngest Moffs in history. To them, this was their time to shine, to take the reigns of their own destiny.

Of course, this meant posting every single find to the holonet.

[ HoloNet App: MytoSphere / Current Region: Myto Sector ]

[ @User_ISC_Recruit99 ]

Timestamp: 3 standard hours ago
Attachment: [Image File]
Metrics: 24,700,000 Likes | 1,200,000 Shares
Post Content:

OMG guys, I found the most AMAZING view! A BEAUTIFUL coastline with EXQUISITE pink sand and view! Since our survey team discovered it, we named it Vistavel!

[ Comments Section ]

1. [ @Myto_Native_88 ]

Replying to: @User_ISC_Recruit99
Metrics: 450,000 Likes
Comment:

No way! Thats so awesome! This is why our sector is ripe for tourism!

2. [ @CoreWorld_ Wanderer ]

Replying to: @User_ISC_Recruit99
Metrics: 120,000 Likes
Comment:

Lovely! I remember back in my day when we used to explore uncharted worlds for the Republic. Glad to see the youngins getting back into it!

3. [ @MYTO_#_1!!! ]

Replying to: @User_ISC_Recruit99
Metrics: 890,000 Likes
Comment:

MYTO SECTOR MENTIONED!!! MYTO SECTOR #1 ALWAYS AND FOREVER!!!!!!

4. [ @SubSector_Scanner ]

Replying to: @User_ISC_Recruit99
Metrics: 35,000 Likes
Comment:

Wow, I'd love a beach house on that coast. I've got three on Dubrillion and they've started to get boring, when will the colonization phase start?

–

Though, this was just the most popular app. The new recruits quickly founded their own holonet communities, complete with their own jokes and standards for success. Of course, said forums were far harsher in terms of critique.

It got especially egregious when someone made a major discovery, of course.

[ Forum: Myto-ISC-Grid / Sub-Board: Strike-Team-Discoveries ]

[ @Vanguard_Prospector ]

Timestamp: 42 minutes ago
Attached Data: [Spectrograph Log] [Thermal Resonance Profile] [Sealed Coordinates]
Metrics: 18,900 Upvotes | 14,500 Comments
Post Content:

I am shaking. Retiring early! Was running deep thermal scans on a new rock—forgot what our team even named the planet, who cares! Board lit up like a supernova. Look at the spectrograph. That is a pure, hyper-dense vein of raw coaxium running straight through the crust. We just hit the jackpot!

[ Forum Thread ]

1. [ @Deep_Space_Greaser ]

Replying to: @Vanguard_Prospector
Metrics: 8,200 Upvotes
Comment:

Unbelievable. Some of us survived the pre-budget years flying through dead space with failing life support. Now you green recruits show up after the funding bump, wander onto a random planet, and stumble into a coaxium jackpot on your first deployment? Pure dumb luck.

2. [ @Sensor_Snob_99 ]

Replying to: @Vanguard_Prospector
Metrics: 5,400 Upvotes
Comment:

I tried to find an error to prove it was just a heavy lithium pocket, but your thermal resonance baseline is airtight. It is genuine, high-grade coaxium. For someone who only finished academy training two months ago, you just won the lottery.

3. [ @Grid_Janitor ]

Replying to: @Vanguard_Prospector
Metrics: 3,100 Upvotes
Comment:

Lock your comms down and encrypt your nav-logs now. Any corporate slicer can pull your vector from this public metadata. Report the find straight to the Moff's vanguard before a syndicate crew drops in on your coordinates and steals the sector's biggest find.

4. [ @Moffs_Favorite_Son ]

Replying to: @Vanguard_Prospector
Metrics: 1,200 Upvotes
Comment:

Forgot the planet name? Classic. The Moff won't care about the registry anyway once he sees this fuel source. Enjoy the promotion and the medals while the rest of our budget class keeps digging in the mud.

–

This recruitment drive opened a wave of exploration unseen in generations, leading to the discovery of key resource nodes in the region. Already the Moffs administration moved to secure them and begin extraction.

Companies and colonizers alike salivated at the untouched land, the ripe resources, the potential for profit sitting right there, whispering to them like speeder keys after a long night of drinking.

Alas, the Moff's edict was clear. Imperial companies first, everyone else later. The Moff did not take kindly to any monopolies building up, be they local or sector wide.

So, the baying wolves were forced to play nice with one another, even as more joined the pack. Immigration swelled higher and higher as new worlds were discovered, the promise of untouched land, of a foundational place in these new colonies, was irresistible to millions across the galaxy.

For every Guild merchant sent from the Myto Sector carried news of this land, and was paid by the Sector for immigrants they freely shipped back.

For the Moff would have no resource untapped.

–

This shit fought me harder than a child fighting the urge to yell slurs in a live chat. I don't know why, because this shit is straight ass, but it took way too much time and effort to scrounge this garbage up. I feel like if I try to rewrite or revise a single thing here I'll throw up, so Imma toss it out here.

Also, I forgot who, but I vaguely remember someone wanting to write an Omake regarding sector exploration. I waited a little longer before posting just in case they posted it because if they did and it was Sidestory worthy I'd make it canon then rework this chapter's second section around it, but they haven't so sorry if this causes problems.

-Freefaller

Yacov · Jun 28, 2026

Omake: Thiltisians

Biological Classification

Designation: Sentient

Classification: Reptilian

——

Physical Characteristics

Average height: 1.8 meters

Skin color: Silver

Eye color: Green

Distinctions:

Clear reflective scales
Downward curved snout
Heavily diurnal
Very poor night sight
"Sunglasses" layer of eyelids
Cold blooded

Average Lifespan: 50 years is the average. Some Thiltisians live as long as 90 years if they are very lucky.

——

Sociocultural Characteristics

Place of Origin: Sunwelp

Language: Thiltish

——

Description:

The Thiltisians are a species of sentient reptilians located on the sunny grassland world of Sunwelp. Their civilization has recently progressed to the Industrial technology level with an emphasis on sustainability and managed growth. Thiltisians at a glance can be described as pious, generous, and open to discussion.

Biology and appearance:

Thiltisians are slightly above the galactic average in height and have reflective silver scales covering their body. This scales are theorized that their ancestors used them as a defense mechanism or a way to trap heat in their dens. An extra layer of eyelids helps deal with the worst of the reflected brightness. These days keeping one's scales shiny and unmarked is a sign of prestige and wealth.

One of the most prominent features of Thiltisians is the heavily diurnal nature. Through a combination of their cold bloodedness, their poor night sight, and other biological factors, Thiltisians struggle immensely operating at night. Thiltisians settlements are therefore kept intensely well lit with fire, gaslight, and then electricity. This is especially done at night in order to make the ordeal bearable for those forced to work past daylight. Light pollution is so heavy that constellations are difficult to identify unless far away from a settlement.

Society and culture:

Thiltisian Government

The Thiltisians of Sunwelp is organized into a strict Timocracy. Issues in politics are resolved by a logocratic method of whoever can submit the most compelling written proposal is approved and implemented by the Assembly of Honor. Participation in Sunwelp's government is excluded to only those who are the most Honorable. The most elevated Thiltisians are allowed into the Assembly of Honor, the main legislative body. Assemblies of Petty Honor are held in each province to handle local issues and staffed by those of comparatively lesser Honor.

Sunwelp's government is also a confessional state that recognizes The Great Pursuit of Daylight as the state enforced and funded religion. Large amounts of government revenue are spent on building and maintaining Solar Temples of The Great Pursuit of Daylight. Having the recognition and approval of the relevant Solar Temples is a virtual requirement for obtaining and remaining in office.

Thiltisian Honor

Honor is defined by Thiltisians as the ability to provide for the community, with the Solar Temples as the main arbitrator. This includes generous donations to interest groups which can influence debates in the Assemblies. A patronized Thiltisian will generally not write a counter-proposal against the proposal of their patron. This tradition of gift giving also applies to political positions as well with high ranking officials and members of the clergy required by tradition to host lavish events and rituals in order to maintain their standing.

Naturally this definition of Honor excludes a vast majority of the poorer classes on Sunwelp leading to a great degree of stratification in Thiltisian society. Not to the point of a caste system yet, but upward social mobility is fairly limited. The most Honor the vast majority of Thiltisians can hope for is to make their layperson votive offerings to their local Solar Shrine and potentially be made a lesser initiate. Those the Solar Temples deem Dishonorable are denied entry to land owned by the Solar Temples and are condemned to the dark corners of Sunwelp. One example of these dark corners the Dishonorable are exiled to is the Scalding Wastes, an area of the planet where rainfall can be absent for over half the year and there is near-boiling rain for the other half.

Thiltisian Religious Property and Corvée Law

As a result of the dominance of The Great Pursuit of Daylight, a vast majority of land both urban and rural in any given area is owned by the local Solar Temples. This land is then ritualistically bequeathed to an individual for the duration of their life or if they are labeled Dishonorable. The land is consecrated by the clergy for the purpose it bequeathed for such as a farm, factory, etc. After death or Dishonor, the land is returned to the Solar Temple's control to be purified and then lent out again at their discretion. Provincial borders are more defined by the lands of a collection of historically allied Solar Temples than any geographical boundary.

Every Honorable Thiltisian is expected to perform their three weeks of religiously mandated corvée labor on unbequeathed Solar Temple land. This obligation was originally meant provide a religious militia to defend holy sites alongside dedicated temple guards. However the long period of peace on Sunwelp has turned the duty to more productive purposes. High class Thiltisians will spend time polishing, cleaning, and politicking in the luxuries Grand Solar Temples made entirely of glass and mirrored surfaces. Middle class Thiltisians will maintain the solar panels and other technical systems needed to keep the Solar Temples functioning. While the vast majority of Thiltisians will be working in the Temple fields or workshops making the products necessary to sustain the clergy and conduct the Solar Temples' rituals and charitable activities.

Thiltisian Technological Focus

Thiltisian technology is heavily focused on light and solar energy. Temples and major buildings are lined with mirrors, windows, and solar panels. Architecture is to emphasize natural and artificial light being able to shined in every corner of the structure. If most other sentients were to spent a day in a Thiltisian city, they would risk eye damage without protection due to the excessive brightness. This is partly due to Thiltisians' poor night sight making dark rooms hazardous and unappealing.

The emphasis on solar power has left Sunwelp relatively pristine in terms of environment despite the technological advances of the Thiltisians. Thiltisian emphasis on purity and cleanliness have kept the worst effects of mining operations and pollution at bay. However only having the ability to generate power about 50% of the time and an intense reluctance to work night shifts have resulted in slow progress in further technological and industrial development.

——

Another species to potentially populate one of those 6500 "uninhabited" systems in the Myto Sector currently being explored. The theme I went with the Thiltisians is "The Calcification of Light". Order and brightness turned up to eleven, even to the point of detriment. Things look and sound good on the surface, but time and complacency have taken their toll underneath. These folks are in for some upheaval once they start interacting with the rest of the galaxy. Especially since Thiltisian settlements and cities stand out like giant glowing beacons that can be seen from orbit once a ship enters the system.

Crossposted on SB and SV

Edit: dunHozzie over at SB sent me another image. This time of what the Thiltisians might look like. Figured this one is a priest in the city.

FollowingStars · Jun 29, 2026

Omake: Viper hover tank

Production Information

Manufacturer: Myto Sector Imperial Government

Model: viper hover tank

Type: medium hovercraft

Cost:

25,000 Credits

——

Technical Specifications

Engine unit(s): EHS-1 hover module, 4 SFS P-s4 ion engines, 6 P-w401 ion maneuvering jets

Speed: 200 km/h

Shielding: none

Power: Fusion generator

Hull: Armored hull

Sensors: Equipped

Armament:

1 light repeating blaster
1 heavy laser cannon

Crew: 3

1 driver (front station)
1 gunner (top station)
1 tank commander (center station)

Minimum crew: 2

Cargo Capacity: 150 kg

Life Support: equipped

Consumables: 7 days

Other systems:

Integrated fire control droid brain
Myto Sector army standardized crew stations

——

Usage

Availability: Military

Roles:

Low maintenance armored vehicle
Low cost armoured
theater shield assault
Flanking attacks
Skirmisher

Affiliation:

Myto Sector Imperial Army

——

Description

The viper hover tank is an armoured ground vehicle designed to accommodate an expansion of the Myto Sector Imperial Army. An increase of funding as well as a lack of useable local armoured vehicle designs in the Sector was predicted to lead to Myto Sector Army general staff being more willing to take a gamble on armoured vehicles of more unusual designs philosophy. This hover tank was made technology that any planet with the most basic starship parts manufacturing could make it.

Design

A viper is as mechanically and technologically simple as possible. Its chassis is a rectangular structure with rounded edges with turret on top. The turret is an elongated hexagon which is armed with a heavy laser cannon and a coaxial light repeating blaster for armored targets and for fighting infantry. The only truely innovative part is its EHS-1 hover module which uses low power ray shields like the kind used in starship environmental hangar shielding to from a zone of high pressure air under the tank like the ancient/primitive hovercraft of old expected without the vulnerable skirts that when damaged would allow the high pressure to escape. The other innovative was the use of readily TIE fighter parts such as the SFS P-s4 ion engines for forward propulsion and the use of P-w401 ion manoeuvring jets for manoeuvring and turning. Nothing else from its armor to the fusion engine is that innovative. It uses civilian and military components which are tried and tested and most importantly are open patents or patents that the Myto Sector already has access to.

The other notable thing about the Viper is the focus placed on ease of repair. The use of placing all of armament in the turret means there are fewer crew and things for the crew to keep track of in the middle of battle. Quality of life additions that are quickly becoming the standard such as environmental, temperature and atmospheric sealing and control modules, microwave ovens and water heaters for crew meal prep in environments and war zones that mean they can't leave for extended periods of time as well as the addition of an incinerator toilet

Each Viper contains 3 crew stations. One in the front for the driver to control the vehicle, one in the turret for the gunner to aim and fire the weapons, one in the turret on the opposite side from the gunner for the tank commander to issue orders, assign objectives, designate targets and to facilitate internal and external communications. This division is to allow each crew mate to maintain focus on a single aspect of the tank

Each crew station is designed in the same layout as the others. The rectangular steering wheel in the driver's station for driving the tank are the same type the gunner to aim the turret and fire the weapons. The internal communication system for the tank commander is structured the same as the external communication system the commander uses. All 3 stations use the same PAD screen for display and they all use the same program structure and operating system. Even the chairs are kept similar so swapping from one to other feels familiar to the crews no matter which station they are switching too. This also helps if a crew member gets incapacitated as it is fairly easy to have another crew member substitute and perform the bare minimum of that station.

Performance

In terms of performance the Viper is fairly standard even with its new hover module, it's a reliable tank. That reliability combined with its price allowed it to be deployed basically anywhere in the Myto Sector with minimal concern for logistics or terrain. However it was slower than the more ubiquitous and popular Imperial-class repulsor tank line. In addition to the stigma of being made by an Outer Rim designer meant it did not see wider adoption. Most Imperial Army commanders saw the Viper as an unnecessary design when current repulsor tanks can do the same while starting within doctrine.

Armored formations have learned to appreciate what the Viper has to offer such as a higher readiness level, low skill ceiling, easier maintenance and lower overall ongoing costs In these formations The Viper tended to act more as Lower cost replacement of the lighter or equivalent weight repulsor tanks. Whenever a need for skirmishing, flanking, or vanguard duty came up, most commanders found it easier to trust the Vipers armoured, armament, speed and ease of repair as well as it relative expendable while keeping their heavier metal in reserve. This allowed these formations to maintain peripheral operations without running the risk of having their heavier vehicles unavailable for the primary battle due to damage or destruction by attrition.

The Viper proved quite popular with worlds that couldn't afford for the cost of repulsor tanks or wait for the shipping of such tanks from outside the Myto Sector.

Conclusion

The Viper was never meant to be the next big thing in military repulsor vehicles. It was designed to meet a design goal of being manufacturable on most worlds within the Myto Sector while being an adequately or better replacement of more expensive repulsor tanks within use in the Myto Sector Imperial Army and Myto Sector planetary defence forces

——

I had a thought about if it's possible to make repulsor tanks without repulsor and so I thought that we already have hovercraft and I thought what starwars tech could improve our hovercraft then I remembered that Star Wars hangars have those atmospheric shields That keep the atmosphere within the ship while allowing ships to pass though. I don't think was able to truely express and explain what my I idea was but I hope that I was at least able to get it across in a way that was semi coherent

Freefaller · Jul 10, 2026

Chp-118

Las
3.1 ABY

Peace, true peace, is not a term I would use lightly. Few periods of time could ever be considered close to achieving true peace.

The closest I'd ever experienced was a thirty second window when I thought my escape plan would go off without a hitch.

The second closest would be the past few months.

Three months after the opening of the new Belladoon shipyards, and things were looking great.

Piracy was down, trade was up, and things were improving. I'd finally found both the time and money to properly start raising the standards for Governorship.

Before I was Moff, the standard was 'have enough political clout'. Then, once I implemented the Auditors, it was 'don't be a corrupt douche'.

Now, it was 'don't be a corrupt douche' alongside 'meet certain educational requirements', 'meet certain ethical guidelines' and 'accept severe amounts of surveillance regarding your finances'.

Among other things.

The point of all of this was, in the end, to create a new cadre of Governors. Ones that did their jobs because they wanted to do well by their people.

It wasn't easy, and to be certain it wasn't as though I'd replaced every single Governor. No, I started slow as all these things go, but it was progressing well. And as more systems gained better Governors, more systems prospered.

Local Imperial courts were being revamped to create new local law systems. Sure, I couldn't do away with galactic law, but I could make local laws better overall.

Of course, all of this came with scrutiny, or at least it should've. But the ISB was still fixated on the source of the outage and glossed over my changes as me doing my job.

I'd done other things during that time as well. More industrial contracts both in and out of the sector. New infrastructure, using newly found coaxium as a major selling point. That resource was unimaginably valuable, and got me some very nice tax reductions from the Governor-General in exchange for selling primarily to local markets.

Sure, it was less profitable overall, but it brought in less resentment from my neighbors than if I'd started shipping it all to the Core.

The Braxant sister-guild had also been doing better for itself, and as trade between the two sectors increased so did the two guilds' closeness. Systems were being implemented to effectively allow the two to communicate better, allow contracts to cross sector borders, and more.

Even the military was doing quite well for itself.

That little spat between contractors? It had resolved itself, funnily enough. The best among the pack surpassed the traps of the others. MynockArms they called themselves. They won because they beat the rest of the competition on a few different fronts.

First, they kept their offerings to machines that would be within the current Imperial supply chain of parts, ensuring that what they built wouldn't require entirely new supply lines.

Secondly, they only offered two designs, unlike the others which heaped dozens of half baked ideas onto the table, each one glazed with industry buzzwords and unfulfilled promises.

Those two designs were the Dreadnought-II and the Storm Walker.

When the first one had been revealed, Ife immediately wanted it, and as soon as the second was revealed, Zulitra was calling me that afternoon.

Both designs filled a niche in the current military. The Dreadnought-II was the complement to the Arbiter-II, the brawn to its brain, being heavily armed while maintaining some fighter capacity. Not to mention this redesign could work on older hulls, allowing for the shortening and cheapening of construction times.

The Storm Walker on the other hand filled the niche of heavy fire support for ground missions. The Mytoan Sector Army didn't use many AT-AT's, if any at all. They had become a rare sight.

Ground troops tended to be outfitted with LECA's, some APCs and tanks, and AT-STs if they had them. The Storm Walker, or AT-SW, fixed that by providing heavy firepower without the sheer size of the AT-AT.

And with 43% parts compatibility with the AT-ST and AT-AT lines? If the engineers at MynockArms ever needed new jobs, the Mindan R&D team was always looking to hire.

Suffice it to say, things were good. Great, even. Everything seemed to be looking up. People were happy. Hell, I'd even gotten properly started on my new escape plan.

I say all of this to provide the proper context as to why my mood was ruined so thoroughly.

"...so it's another piracy wave."

"Not exactly, sir."

"Thats not reassuring, Ife."

And it wasn't. I stared at the map before me, hundreds of markers indicating the known conflict zones where syndicate forces had clashed with one another across the galaxy.

The Syndicate War had begun.

"While this isn't the same level of chaos as previously seen, the fact is that the syndicates are making a mess of each other, and that creates chaos. I suspect that syndicate elements within the Myto sector will strike at one another more quietly given the sector's low number of criminals, but chaos is a ladder."

"And the Myto Sector is newly rich in coaxium…"

"Exactly." Ife nodded, hologram more stable than any I'd ever seen thanks to the upgraded holonet. Color holo-calls were next I tell you.

"Alright. We'll have to move more forces to defend the coaxium, and switch over to bulk exports over smaller shipments so as to bulk up on escorts. Can we spare the ships?"

"We can. The first Dreadnought-II prototypes are fresh out of the yards and need to be tested before further iteration. Alongside some other proven escorts it should be enough against any raiders."

"Good. I'll leave it to you then." With the call over, I focused on my next tasks. I had a new pile of reports to go through, and I intended to do just that.

Most of it was standard fare. From trade fluctuations to the Mando mercs taking more contracts in Braxant, there was always something happening.

For example, one report detailed a smuggling operation that had recently been caught. It had evaded capture for a while because the smugglers had connections in the Navy that leaked them patrol routes ahead of time.

It was a common failing in a naval apparatus as large as the Empires, but something I wouldn't tolerate within my sector. Thankfully, I had a plan for that.

See, when I took power as Moff, I initiated a purge of many top sector officials. It was hasty, and as a consequence focused on those at the top. If I'd had more warning of my impending promotion, I would've started a much deeper purge. Instead, I'd been forced to fix things over time, dealing with corrupt officials that were already scared of me, making it harder to catch them.

So, once I'd confirmed the loyalty of the leaders of the Sector Navy and Army, I had them start doing just that. A full, in-depth investigation into both organizations. The plan was to create as comprehensive a map as possible of the corruption, its causes, and more, before initiating a far deeper purge than I'd managed.

This project had faced delays of course, during the various crises that had plagued the sector. But the time was nearing. The academies, now having grown to accommodate both naval and army training, were of a higher standard of quality. Training times had increased, including 'loyalty' classes that got the ISB to remove their agents. Given a little more time, purges of both the Sector Navy and Army could happen, cleaning much of the corruption out and allowing something better to grow in its place.

But…now that I thought about it, that smuggling case got me thinking.

Crimson Dawn. No one could catch them. They were the most illusive of the criminal syndicates, and while they weren't involved in the current war, they were still being hunted by the Empire for simply existing, as unlike other syndicates the Crimson Dawn paid no tribute.

And yet, no one could catch them. Not a single one. It was perplexing, because from what little I could remember of the syndicate war the Crimson Dawn wasn't this good. Oh sure, they avoided capture by virtue of being the least important for a little bit, but not at this level.

What I mean is, not a single Crimson Dawn ship has been caught since the war started. Not one. How could they manage that?

It was as if they had someone on the inside.

It couldn't be…

Akahista.

"Fuck."

–

I really liked the Dreadnought redesign that was posted to the thread earlier and thought "why not put it in, it fits and I need something for the weapons manufacturers". If ya'll have any other similarly redesigned ships please feel free to post them because it honestly fits more than designing entirely new vessels all the time.

Sorry this is late. Some shenanigans possessed me, including a lethargy of the highest order, my birthday, stress regarding school, and becoming absolutely entranced with the Rogue Trader CRPG. Its so peak, I wish Abelard was real and could announce me wherever I go.

-Freefaller.

Freefaller · Jul 11, 2026

OFFICIAL SECTOR ADVISORY | MSD-R&D-DENIED-9914

DOCUMENT SUMMARY | Internal Review of Unfunded Research Proposals | Month #19
DISTRIBUTION | Office of the Moff, Myto Sector Economic Council
AUTHORIZATION | Ministry of Internal Development | Research and Development Division
AUTHOR | Director Yop Calio, Chief of Extraordinary Initiatives Research and Development
CLASSIFICATION | Restricted Technical Data

Project 1 Open-Cycle Hypermatter Scorcher

Concept
- This proposal outlines a high-speed atmospheric drone that runs on an open-cycle hypermatter reactor. By intentionally omitting the standard thermal containment shielding, the drone would vent raw, unchanneled solar-ionization plasma directly out of its sublight thrusters to instantly incinerate ground targets while flying at supersonic speeds.
Reason for Denial
- The proposal ignores basic strategic logic. Without total containment of the hypermatter reactor, the heat would melt the drone within seconds of activation.

Project 2 Sub-Crustal Tectonic Borer

Concept

This initiative introduces a heavy boring vehicle utilizing high-output industrial repulsor-coils to project hyper-gravity downward, effectively crushing planetary rock into dust to tunnel underneath defensive energy shields. Once beneath an enemy command bunker, the vehicle would detonate a massive proton-torpedo payload.
Reason for Denial
- The design fails due to fundamental material constraints. The immense thermal energy generated by compressing planetary crust at tactical speeds would melt the internal repulsor-coils within minutes, welding the machine and its crew into a static block of slag kilometers beneath the surface.

Project 3 Orbital Hyperlane Interdiction Net

Concept
- This project involves deploying a dense orbital matrix consisting of thousands of high-tensile, automated tractor-beam minelets. The linked beams would form an invisible net across low orbit to snare and physically rip apart incoming enemy starfighters attempting to drop from hyperspace.
Reason for Denial
- The engineering division overlooked a glaring common-sense flaw. The inevitable tractor-beam resonance cascade would cause the net to snap outward, dragging local communication satellites and our own Imperial supply convoys into the meat grinder.

Project 4 Tectonic Rail-Cannon

Concept
- This concept details a massive planetary artillery installation that uses a sequence of decommissioned capital-ship hyperdrive rings to accelerate durasteel-jacketed kinetic slugs through a micro-hyperspace window. This weapon would allow the Minda system to strike stationary targets on worlds in neighboring systems.
Reason for Denial
- The proposal was rejected due to structural engineering realities. The immense kinetic recoil generated by forcing a multi-ton physical object through a localized hyperspace field inside a gravity well would instantly fracture the host planet's tectonic plate and cause a localized cataclysm.
Directors Note The researchers who proposed this seemed to specify the weapons capabilities for striking other Imperial worlds from Minda. They have been flagged for psychological review.

Project 5 Unshielded Coaxium Boosters

Concept
- This design involves mounting volatile, unshielded raw coaxium liquid booster pods directly onto the exterior wing-joints of standard TIE interceptors. This modification would theoretically double their sublight acceleration and allow tactical wings to intercept enemy bombers before they can deploy payloads.
Reason for Denial
- Safety parameters make this concept entirely unviable. Liquid coaxium is notoriously sensitive to kinetic shock, meaning a single stray blaster bolt hitting a hangar bay or a landing rack would trigger a chain reaction capable of vaporizing an entire orbital station.
Directors Note Honestly don't know what they were thinking, given coaxium is primarily used for hyperdrives.

Project 6 V-19 Void-Stalker Deep-Atmosphere Penetrator

Concept
- This high-altitude stealth bomber design is engineered to drop heavy proton payloads from the extreme upper layers of a planet's atmosphere. It utilizes a radical thermal-diffusing hull skin designed to compress atmospheric friction heat and convert it directly into forward deflector shield power during high-speed insertion maneuvers.
Reason for Denial
- The concept fails under basic aerodynamic and material constraints. The thermal-conversion matrix relies on a perfectly smooth, uninterrupted laminar airflow. The moment the bomber encounters standard atmospheric turbulence or alters its banking angle, the compressed heat vents inward instead of outward, instantly vaporizing the internal payload bay and the crew cabin.
Directors Note The ship design has promise outside of its special hull, and is being reviewed for possible redesign and deployment pending Naval approval.

Project 7 AT V1 Specter Low Observability Walker

Concept
- This heavy armored walker utilizes experimental under-chassis repulsor dampeners to mask the seismic footprint of its footsteps. The hull features specialized cold-plasma plating designed to absorb all outward thermal signatures, allowing a heavy assault vehicle to sneak past enemy scout networks entirely undetected.
Reason for Denial
- The cold-plasma plating completely traps all internal heat generated by the walker's massive power core. Without active cooling vents, the internal cockpit temperature spikes to lethal levels within three minutes of activation, effectively cooking the pilot crew alive.
Directors Note Some of the walker design team got their hands on one of the new AT-SW's and went a little wild.

Project 8 Spinal Fracture Siege Corvette

Concept
- This light capital ship is built entirely around a single massive forward-facing plasma lance cannon running the entire length of the vessel. The design strips away all traditional shield generators and point-defense turrets to funnel the entire output of the main hypermatter reactor into a single armor-penetrating blast.
Reason for Denial
- The ship's internal structural framework cannot handle the immense kinetic and thermal feedback of the primary weapon. Firing the cannon generates a violent energy cascade that would instantly collapse the hull forward onto itself, turning the entire corvette into a mass of crushed scrap metal.

Project 9 XR-9 Shatterpoint Sonic Siege Tank

Concept
- This tracked heavy armor vehicle mounts a localized seismic resonance emitter designed to neutralize fortified planetary energy shields. The tank would park directly outside an enemy outpost and tune its acoustic frequency to match the shield's thermal modulation, shattering the projector array from a safe distance without a prolonged orbital bombardment.
Reason for Denial
- The proposal defies common sense engineering realities. To project a sound wave dense enough to fracture a military-grade deflector shield through open air, the acoustic amplifier requires a power load that completely liquefies the ground directly beneath its own heavy treads, causing the tank to sink and swallow itself in solid rock before completing a single broadcast cycle.
Directors Note Someone got their hands on some vintage Geonosian sonic weapons and someone else saw them and went into a fugue state for a week.

Project 10 Leech-Pattern Vector Boarding Pod

Concept
- This specialized armored boarding vessel is designed to bypass enemy point-defense grids by hitching a ride on our own capital ship salvos. The pod attaches to the exterior hull of an Imperial cruiser and crawls directly into a heavy turbolaser barrel, utilizing the weapon's native magnetic containment fields to launch itself forward at extreme velocity alongside the plasma blast.
Reason for Denial
- Severe structural and safety constraints make this concept completely unviable. The raw thermal energy of a heavy turbolaser discharge completely overwhelms the pod's heat shielding. Computer modeling shows the vessel instantly melts into a solid lump of slag inside the barrel, permanently welding the Star Destroyer's primary turret shut and destroying the boarding team before they can clear the ship's framework.
Directors Note I don't know what to say, it's a miracle of stupidity that this escaped the confines of someone's mind.

Report Summary

While the preceding log highlights an undeniable pattern of structural overreach and logistical absurdity, it remains an essential diagnostic of our sector's primary design apparatus. The engineering divisions stationed across the Minda system represent the absolute pinnacle of Imperial technical innovation. However, this level of creative genius inherently carries a unique administrative burden.

The very traits that allow these minds to solve seemingly insurmountable structural challenges also render them highly prone to dramatic flights of fancy and erratic conceptual designs. They are an exceptionally brilliant group of innovators who require constant oversight to prevent them from accidentally fracturing a planetary crust or vaporizing a hangar bay in the pursuit of a breakthrough. It is the official stance of this office that vetting these highly eccentric proposals is a small price to pay for maintaining our regional technological superiority. We will continue to filter out the impossible and the dangerous while harvesting the genuine breakthroughs that keep the Myto Sector at the absolute forefront of military development.

Directors Note This is the shortest of the 19 reports of this kind I've had to write. I also suspect the next few will be quite short as well, given major projects have been recently greenlit. However, it is in my professional opinion that this office requires more advanced facilities. While a great deal has been accomplished using outdated and subpar equipment, it won't be enough going forward.

Freefaller · Jul 11, 2026

OFFICIAL SECTOR ADVISORY | MSD-R&D-ACTIVE-0412

DOCUMENT SUMMARY | Active R&D Project Status and Priority Briefing
DISTRIBUTION | Office of the Moff | Myto Sector Economic Council
AUTHORIZATION | Ministry of Internal Development | Research and Development Division
AUTHOR | Director Yop Calio, Chief of Extraordinary Initiatives
CLASSIFICATION | Restricted Strategic Technical Data

SECTION I REPORT OVERVIEW

The following dossier outlines the primary active engineering initiatives currently under development by the Minda system research division. In contrast to our conceptual exploratory logs, the projects detailed below have received full administrative authorization and funding. These initiatives are ranked strictly by their projected completion timeline, moving from immediate manufacturing readiness to long term structural design phases.

SECTION II ACTIVE PROJECT PIPELINE

Project IRONCLAD

Current Status High Priority Production Transition
Estimated Completion One to two months
Project Overview
- This initiative delivers the newest generation of the LECA combat platform by synthesizing extensive operational data gathered in the field over the last few years. The development team integrated fresh engineering personnel alongside technical innovations originally discovered by independent contractors working on civilian iterations of the core technology.
- While the core design philosophy remains strictly unchanged, focusing on an efficient, modular, and cost effective asset, this update comprehensively addresses original engineering flaws. It successfully expands operational tolerances and rectifies numerous chassis stability problems that occurred as a direct consequence of the rushed nature of the platform's initial development cycle.
- Alongside the optimization of the baseline chassis, the engineering team is concurrently working to create entirely new LECA variants. These specialized configurations are being developed directly alongside the main project to serve as the very first operational models of this new generation, significantly expanding the platform's tactical roles.

Project SWARMLORD

Current Status Secondary Development Phase
Estimated Completion Two to four months
Project Overview
- This project focuses on adapting the versatile ID10 seeker droid framework originally manufactured by Arakyd Industries and utilized by Imperial special forces units. Development initiated immediately following prolonged delays regarding the acquisition of corporate licensing rights from the parent manufacturer.
- The objective centers on using the ID10 chassis as a standard baseline for a diverse suite of specialized companion droids tailored for soldiers, pilots, and field specialists. A preliminary variant is already fully operational as a dedicated spotter unit attached to the LECA A5 model. Upcoming variants currently in development aim to provide specialized flight assistance for ace pilots and real time tactical information integration for infantry squads.

Project GHOSTSHIP

Current Status Mid Stage Optimization
Estimated Completion Four to five months
Project Overview
- This long standing engineering initiative focuses on a comprehensive redesign and internal refit program for existing Star Destroyer class vessels. The primary objective is to drastically reduce the baseline crew complement required for standard deployment cycles.
- Although the core goal is conceptually straightforward, execution has proven highly demanding due to the sheer scale and systemic complexity of a capital ship. The team is currently finalizing automated network subsystems to safely bridge legacy mechanical control interfaces without compromising ship security.

Project THUNDER

Current Status Early Developmental Phase
Estimated Completion Six to eight months to prototyping, one year to final production
Project Overview
- Inspired by recent advanced walker designs introduced by MynockArms, this project involves an entirely new and currently unnamed four legged mobile artillery asset. The weapon system is engineered to provide sustained indirect fire support across the theater of operations.
- This unit aims to fill a critical tactical gap by avoiding the massive logistical footprint of an SPHA walker while bypassing the direct line of sight requirements that limit the AT AP platform. Because the project is in its infancy, current engineering efforts are focused on auditing preexisting Imperial supply lines to maximize components compatibility, which remains a core requirement for the success of all Mytoan military assets.

Project IMPERIAL REBIRTH

Current Status Conceptual Architecture Phase
Estimated Completion Minimum of one year to first prototype, final deployment timeline undetermined
Project Overview
- Following several years of persistent advocacy from the primary ship design team, the Ministry has officially greenlit this foundational naval architecture project. Unlike the parallel Star Destroyer refit initiative which focuses strictly on modifying existing hulls for manpower efficiency, Project Imperial Rebirth represents the ground up creation of an entirely new unnamed capital ship within the Star Destroyer size classification.
- The design group is currently drafting core structural layouts and hypermatter reactor integration schematics to establish a completely modernized framework for next generation sector power projection.

Directors Note I'm not sure how they got permission for this one, but from what I can tell it was 'authorized' by the Moff in that he was busy muttering something about Akahista and said 'sure do whatever' when asked.

Yacov · Jul 12, 2026

Omake: Trigon-2 Class Starfighter

Production Information

Manufacturer: Curcio Dynamics (subsidiary of BGES)

Model: Trigon-2 Class Starfighter

Predecessor: Trigon Class Starfighter

Type: Starfighter

Nicknames: Knockoff TIE/Minda, The Trigon That Wasn't Left Half-Finished, I Can't Believe It's Not Scrap, A Fulfilled Promise

Cost: 70,000 Credits new

——

Technical Specifications

Engine unit(s): 1 R440 Ion Jet Engine

Maximum atmospheric speed: 1000 km/h

Hyperdrive: none

Shielding: equipped

Power: fusion generator

Hull: titanium hull

Sensors: equipped

Armament:

2 KY12 medium laser cannons
2 light energy torpedo launchers

Crew: 1 Pilot

Cargo Capacity: 70 kg

Life Support: equipped

Consumables: 7 days

——

Usage

Availability: Licensed

Roles:

Low cost interceptor
Low yield bomber
In-system escort
Generalist

Affiliation:

Imperial favored PDFs in the Braxant sector
BGES companies
Fleets on routes with low supply availability

——

Description
"Introducing the Trigon-2! A successor to the much beloved starfighter of Curcio Dynamics! Order now while supplies and the current glut of components last!" - Exaggerated advertisement announcing the Trigon-2.

The Trigon-2 is a successor to the Trigon, both of which manufactured by Curcio Dynamics. Upgraded from its predecessor's role as chaff into a true budget generalist starfighter. Designed to operate primarily in low supply environments. Able to preform well in the fringes of territory against more outdated foes, the Trigon-2 struggles against modern and more expensive of its peers.

Background
"Alright so the buying price for a Trigon finally bottomed out. Let's see if we can get those IGCPP folks to help us make a better performing product." - Recording of Curcio Dynamics CEO at a sales review.

Curcio Dynamics developed its current business model during the Moff Surrde era in the Braxant Sector. During that desolate period they designed the Trigon as a ship that could be produced even in the deepest of component shortages. As such the Trigon was able to sell new production for a ridiculous mark up and sustain the company through those hard years.

Yet trouble began with the deposing and disposing of the now ex-Moff Surrde and the commercial reawakening of the Braxant Sector. The Trigon was able to be sold for an overpriced 60,000 Credits while there was no other option. Once trade and production was normalized, new Trigons struggled to be sold for half that price now that it had to compete with better options being available. It was becoming quickly apparent that further production of the Trigon would only result in a net loss for the company.

However Curcio Dynamics was not sitting on its laurels before this downturn in profits. The company was well aware the Trigon was a temporary money maker and had spent a lot of time on designing a successor. The hope was to maintain the good parts of the Trigon while updating the successors systems for a more modern battlefield and market.

Design
"Alright we basically cannibalized the Y-Wing when making the Trigon, for the successor let's see if we can do the same with a more modern design. What's Koensayr making these days?" - Recording from the Curcio Dynamics boardroom before they approached Koensayr Manufacturing.

At a glance it is easy to see the resemblance of the Trigon-2 to the Trigon. The Trigon-2 maintains the triangular shape with the three wings of its predecessor with one noticeable difference. Most of the differences lie under the hull. The reopening of the private sector in Braxant and cooperation with the IGCPP gave Curcio Dynamics access to a much more modern selection of competent to choose from.

Keeping in line with the Trigon's extensive use on Y-Wing components, Curcio Dynamics approached the ubiquitous component manufacturer Koensayr Manufacturing in order to purchase component licenses for the Trigon-2. This was done with the expectation that the Trigon-2's production and sales would dwarf that of the Trigon. Therefore it was necessary to purchase components above board rather than use Curcio Dynamics' previous strategy of assembling chaff fighters out of used parts taken from a scrapyard.

Of particular interest to Curcio Dynamics was the components used in the H-Wing, a long range strike craft Koensayr had developed. Unfortunately for Koensayr, the H-Wing had been met with less success than they had hoped for. It was then that Curcio Dynamics approached Koensayr offering to license components for the H-Wing and buy up some of the excess spare parts production Koensayr produced in expectation of a stronger initial showing from their product. Koensayr agreed to the deal for some fees and a stipulation not install a hyperdrive on the Trigon-2 so it would not compete with the H-Wing in the long range strike craft market. This was fine with Curcio Dynamics as they had no intention to install a hyperdrive in order to minimize costs and to have the Trigon-2 maintain the carrier fighter role of its predecessor.

Now with access to new and good quality components, Curcio Dynamics began modernizing the Trigon frame. Various small parts were updated with more modern and better performing variants. Of note is the update to the weapons and engine. The Trigon-2 would be propelled by a R440 Ion Jet Engine. This combined more thrusters allowed for increased speed and maneuverability, although the Trigon-2 still couldn't catch up to the acceleration gap of more expensive or speed focused starfighters with multiple engines. The Trigon's old arsenal of 2 IX4 laser cannons were replaced with 2 KY12 medium laser cannons allowing for an increase in firepower against starfighters and other targets.

Speaking of firepower, there is one large difference between the Trigon-2 and its predecessor. On top of each of the side wings of the Trigon-2's frame is a round bulge. This bulge is the culmination of the collaboration between Curcio Dynamics and the scientists from the IGCPP. A IGCPP Heavy Security Tasking had fought a pirate band using a sizable amount of old Separatist technology in the recent past. With salvage from that battle along with both groups' expertise, Curcio Dynamics was able to reconstruct light energy torpedo launchers to equip on the Trigon-2. These two launchers allowed for two low yield energy torpedoes to be launched from the Trigon-2. These two torpedoes would then regenerate over the next 30 seconds for the next salvo.

This theoretically unlimited missile ammunition from Curcio Dynamics' design came at a cost. For one the Trigon-2's energy torpedoes were not as strong as its ammunition dependent peers. Combined with its relatively small salvo meant that a Trigon-2 would only be effective at taking down the shields of civilian ships or light warships unless in large numbers. Another issue is that the energy torpedo launchers were energy intensive. Powering the launchers drew power that could have been directed to the shields and engines. This led to the Trigon-2 having less improvement in those areas than it otherwise could have. Finally there is the issue of the Trigon-2's energy torpedoes being exclusively dumb fire. While improvements were made to the Trigon-2's targeting system to try and mitigate this issue, the fact remained the energy projectile wouldn't chase after an enemy on its own. This relegated the torpedoes to only be useful against large and slow moving targets with little chance of hitting a dodging starfighter.

The Trigon-2 was designed by Curcio Dynamics with the TIE/Minda as a metric in terms of price and general capability. For a notable reduction in speed and a bit of extra cost one would get less supply dependence, more hull and structure durability, worse missile salvos that regenerate. For those with access to both options, the Trigon-2 was often considered an inferior product compared to the TIE/Minda outside of a few niche cases.

Production and Sales
"Look I get the yield is anemic, but the main selling point of the launcher is you don't even need to source the torpedos." - Curcio Dynamics salesman trying to pitch the Trigon-2 to a reluctant customer.

The Trigon-2 was meant to be the flagship product for Curcio Dynamics and it showed in the preparations they made. A large portion of their remaining savings was diverted towards its development and production. Several loans were taken from both the Braxant and Myto Sector to support the expansion of the company. Even Braxant's Sector Government gave some patronage to the project. Seeing it as a way to create further ties with the mercenaries of the BGES to the Sector's reemerging local industry.

Here Curcio Dynamics' decision to use a lot of H-Wing parts really helped. With the H-Wing's similarity to the Y-Wing down to using similar components, factory lines and workers who made the Trigon could easily transfer their equipment and expertise over to making the Trigon-2. Old hands for the Trigon line could be spread among the new lines and most of the lessons they could teach to the new hires would be applicable. This allowed for minimal retooling time and the Trigon-2 to enter full production at a fairly rapid pace. Initial production runs were able to finish in time for the deadline for the Trigon-2's scheduled debut.

When the first sales figures for the Trigon-2 came in after its debut there was both good and bad. Curcio Dynamics was unable to justify the 65,000 Credit price tag they were aiming for. They settled for 70,000 Credits, which was still relatively cheap for a new starfighter. This was viewed by customers as the price of not having Sienar's leviathan economies of scale, rather than an opportunistic price hike. As a result there was little additional negative impact on the Trigon-2's sales from the price.

The price combined with its lackluster performance when compared to the TIE-Minda meant the Trigon-2 found few buyers among the Imperial Military. Yet few did not mean none. Some Imperial buyers both in and out of the Braxant Sector found the Trigon-2's reliability and minimal supply footprint preferable when on long patrol routes with few supply bases. Other Imperial buyers bought the Trigon-2 as an acceptable placeholder to rotate with their ships' TIE squadrons that were sent in to be converted into TIE/Mindas.

However it was outside of the Imperial Military where the Trigon-2 found a majority of its market share. The Trigon-2's freedom from the Imperial-Sienar production complex and its sales regulations allowed it to be sold to a much wider audience. Private and public entities that lacked the legal and political connections to acquire TIEs often found the Trigon-2 as good enough replacement for the carrier starfighter role. For those at the very least tolerated by the Empire, purchasing a Trigon-2 got one a relatively decent generalist starfighter compared to what one could find in the Outer Rim's selection.

When all the numbers were tallied, the profit margins for the individual Trigon-2 looks to be less than the Trigon. Especially with the licensing fees Curcio Dynamics have to pay to Koensayr per fighter. However the projected sales life and production rates of the Trigon-2 were high enough to pay for both Curcio Dynamics' expenses and loan payments, with a small surplus left over. The Trigon-2 project was marked down as a modest success that could keep them in business for the foreseeable future. Further grants and subsidies are being sought in order to expand Trigon-2 production.

Conclusion
"Alright, looks like we are in the black again. Let's hope it can hold long enough to steal someone else's hard work for a potential Trigon-3." - Sales Manager reviews Curcio Dynamics' current and future business model.

Many starship experts on the HoloNet would looks at raw numbers and deride the Trigon-2 as Curcio Dynamics making an inferior copy of the TIE/Minda. Yet if one looks beyond the raw stats and at the surrounding circumstances, one could find a pretty decent starfighter at a relatively reasonable price with none of the baggage of the TIE series attached. The Trigon-2 feels like the complete product left unfinished by the initial Trigon. One that has earned Curcio Dynamics some loyal customers for following through with their previous design's promise.

——

With the BGES and the IGCPP working closer together, figured it was time for the Trigon to gets its upgrade. With no chance of winning on quality, the Salvage Rats at Curcio Dynamics went for their tried and true method of copying the components and homework off of Koensayr with a bit of Separatist tech sprinkled in for extra flavor. The Trigon-2 was never going to be the best starfighter, but I rank it as a fairly durable generalist fighter for its price range. Even if it feels like Braxant is still trailing behind Myto's footsteps, that's still better than some of the other sectors in the Outer Rim. Whether the Trigon-2 succeeds depends on if you think there is currently enough of a market for a more expensive knockoff TIE/Minda with less political hoops to jump through, and I would argue there is.

In terms of raw capabilities, I'd put the Trigon-2 as being able to outlast the base TIE thanks to its shield and with the missiles as a bonus, but it would still lose most battles with a TIE/Minda. An X-Wing would still beat a Trigon-2 one on one most of the time with its better weaponry and its multiple engines probably giving it better acceleration. However X-Wings are for the Rebels' elite squadrons and probably wouldn't be in the kinds of remote systems a Trigon-2 would get sent to. If a Trigon-2 did fight the Rebels, it would probably be an old Y-Wing, Arc-170, or a Z-95. Which it would have a much better chance against.

Crossposted on SB and SV

Edit: DunHozzie over at SB messaged me again with some potential art for the Trigon-2. Felt this one fit the simple, brute force aesthetic Curcio Dynamics and the Braxant Sector as a whole would go with their tech.

Yacov · Jul 16, 2026

Omake: Remittance of a Guild Whale

Warning: This Omake does not contain mere classism. It contains advanced classism.

Warning: This Omake contains proof that venality is alive and well-funded in the Galactic Empire.

Warning: The narrator of this Omake is unreliable, ignorant, and unworthy of his good fortune. Opening hyperlinks may be required for full context of this man's idiocy.

Warning: This Omake contains a professional vapid noble at work, or it would if Wes had ever worked a day in his life.

Warning: Sometimes poorly conceived plans succeed despite all hopes for fairness in the universe.

POV: Baronet Wes Telen, owner and commander of the Most Illustriously Beautiful Company, an RII: Mercenary Alliance, Yuleis, Myto Sector

"I hope this party is to your liking, Commander Telen?"

Wes gave a weary sigh as he sipped his Antakarian Fire Dancer. He could taste the inferior quality gemstones they used in its making. Disdain filled his humors at the sight of overinflated nobodies prancing about in tatty yellowish bronze finery with some winged beast feathers sticking out. It looked more like drab ceremonial garb than anything resembling proper fashion as far as Wes was concerned.

This tasteless soirée would be beneath him not too long ago. Unfortunately the Family insisted he "venture out earn some glory for the House". Apparently the Family wanted him to be seen as a "contributing member" of the Guild in order to engage in some scheme or other, so here he was. He would never have left the estate in Rolling Greens' with his shaaks to come to this dirtball otherwise. Why he even had to leave Bettie and her fabulous foot rubs behind at the estate on Ugea.

The Family was being totally unreasonable considering they chased him out of the Core and wouldn't even let him come back to the main manor for the annual Empire Day banquet. Even if they still sent him well wishes and gifts every year. At first Wes considered refusing the demand. However the Family threatened to reduce his remittance payments if he didn't at least make a showy enough attempt. At least they weren't threatening to make him some gentleman ranker in the Imperial Army. He could scarcely imagine the stress of having that hanging over his head.

Wes' current disfavor and enemies in the Core would probably prevent him from getting an officer's commission in the Imperial Military. However purchasing a commission to command a company in the Guild proved to be easier than he expected. Sure Wes had to raise the men and material for the company himself, but that was trivial with the financial resources he had even at his recently limited disposal. The piratical troublemakers had made a right mess of things across the Sector and with the Blackout exposing the potential for supply shortages, the Guild and the Sector were desperate for more troops to secure basic resource distribution. As long as you could prove you were loyal to the Empire and had filled out the flimsy, you were allowed to take the Guild's Credit. The Family had long since proven their loyalty so their recommendation was as good as chromium, and Bettie had filled out the application with her programmed efficiency.

Why is this man still staring at him with his sunken eyes and silly face paint? Oh right, his host is still waiting for a response.

"Hmmm, passable. I am sure it is a grand choice on a sleepy world like this. Hopefully my Most Illustriously Beautiful Company will ensure we can all enjoy even more finery in the future."

Sleepy was truly the word to describe Yuleis. An Agriworld filled with illiterate farmers managing a meager surplus they plied offworld to maintain themselves. The main crop that is grown is overwhelmingly local variants of legume. To the point over 70% of the population is involved in the production and processing of some type of legume. What wasn't sold raw to be rendered into gruel or some other churlish meal was typically processed into the planet's signature drink, Yuleis Gin, which was apparently smooth and citrusy. He only knew of this because legumes were included in almost every dish on Yuleis and no one he talked to would shut up about it. They even served Yuleis Gin at a supposed "grand banquet" like this. Not that Wes would allow such a pedestrian beverage to grace his lips. At least the flower was pretty enough.

The only thing disrupting this comatose routine were some knaves in the hinterlands who were descending upon the outlying hamlets to make trouble. A garrison contract was posted by the sub-capital and Yuleis' nobility to reinforce security in the system while Sector subsidies and capital goods were distributed like last feast's leftovers to the Help. It was the perfect opportunity to fulfill the Family's request while not needing to do anything too strenuous. Wes marched right up to the Guild organizer and proclaimed that his Most Illustriously Beautiful Company would be deigning to take this contract. So overawed were they by his company's brilliance that the MIBC was assigned to the planetary capital to work directly with Yuleis' oligarchic aristocracy. Clearly his fine breeding had shown through, because all those brutish thugs in the other companies did not even compete for the honor of interacting with what passed for the planet's nobility on a constant basis.

All the MIBC had to do most of the time was patrol along the main roads and manning defenses while Wes got his beauty sleep. Of course whenever there was a parade, Wes made sure to lead from the front in his gold plated and emerald encrusted cuirass while atop Honeycup, his favorite shaak. Oh and don't even get Wes started on the self-aggrandizing upper class that ruled this destitute backwater. Honor or no, all they could do was trace their lineage to some savage that ruled some clan or tribe a paltry dozen generations ago. As if their playing at aristocracy could hope to match the honor of his prestigious millennia enduring line. None of these pitiable dynasties even owned a single space yacht for goodness sake.

"Yes the elite troops you have brought with you have been most impressive. The onlooking Stickpickers were overawed by their golden luster as they marched in tandem off your Minstrel. Not even our greatest crafters could offer such a wonders at market."

It was worth allowing his troops to sleep in the lower decks just to watch this fool grovel before him. The MIBC was made up almost exclusively of Romins. Their golden skin and eyes had caught his fancy the last time he passed by the orbit of their Mid Rim planet. When Wes was told to found a mercenary company, he had the most wonderful vision of towering over brilliantly sparkling golden troops marching to his will. Fortunately the current Tyrant-Dictator of that system proved a most affable chap to Wes' offer of an offworld work program. Apparently the offer lined up well with the Tyrant-Dictator's efforts to continue the Poverty Redaction Policy of his predecessor who ruled during the time of the Republic.

Either way Wes had the Romins he needed shipped to start up his mercenary company with little fuss. They had to ditch those tacky grey decorative bracelets they arrived with since it clashed with the MIBC's uniform. His troops complied with his demand quite eagerly for it being a complimentary gift the planetary government had given them. At least they were fine with wearing the same thing given they were all wearing the same colored jumpsuits when they showed up. Maybe it had something to do with them saying they all found housing in the same block?

Regardless Wes' troops were practically chomping at the bit with their wide mouths for a chance to serve him. Doubly so once he announced the generous pay rate and unlimited legume rations while at base. They always smiled and saluted those days when he deigned to visit their barracks. Wes' new subordinates even had their own quaint little title for him: Archilistís. Apparently it means some form of respected community leader.

Truly they knew in their hearts that they would be better off working for him than what passed for employment back on their world. Oku spoke well of their enthusiasm and tenacity in his post-battle reports. Wes had made his assistant Klatooinian his lieutenant in the company to handle most of the droll daily affairs of the MIBC like training and going out of patrols. He always knew how to properly cow a servant back at the estate.

From there it was only a matter of finding the right shade of gold paint for the armor and ABR-2 Zato blaster rifles he had imported from Kijimi under the Family's name. Wes wanted to use real gold, but Oku informed him that would be a bad idea due to how soft the metal was. Nevertheless, he had transformed from a mere baronet into a commander of a shining force of military might defending this pitiful Sector from harm.

"My Beautiful Company certainly were more than enough for what passes for criminal elements on this world. Their tireless will and iron discipline shatter any that stand against them. My latest triumph wiping out that bandit stronghold was a stroke of genius, wasn't it?"

Sure Wes himself wasn't there per se, but Oku was, so it was essentially the same thing. Judging from all the praise Wes was receiving, the man was as competent at tactics as the rest of the tasks Wes left to him. That stronghold fell only after a short siege. The fools didn't know how to keep their larders stocked for surprise guests.

Apparently this particular group of ne'er-do-wells were armed with nothing more than animal hide and some sort of projectile they shot at his men. What did Oku call them? Air-oos? All except for their leader who wore a faded magenta cape and an old blaster pistol that kept ranting about someone named Grace and vengeance. Either way, it was nothing his invincible soldiers couldn't handle once the bandits tried to flee out of an entrance they assumed was hidden.

"Yes your company has done a wonderful job clearing out the riff raff from our lands Commander Telen. You have secured the peace necessary to prosper even further. We have begun leasing plots and the Guild's new machines to capable Stickpicker households who can clear and steward the new farmland. Speaking of our lands, that new architectural fad you started seems to have taken off quite well."

Wes preened at the mention of the influence he had over this dirtball, even if a bit by accident. When the MIBC arrived to Yuleis they had tried to have his troops quarter in hovels made of, ugh, wood, and not even the luxurious kinds he used for his Shaak stables back home. It wouldn't do for their uniforms and weaponry to get covered in dirt and bark while they slept.

Luckily Wes had remembered the new Moff had instituted the Homesteader Program on Ugea a while back to keep the Poors in line. Contacting an old administrator he meet during a Shaak derby, soon he had all his troops housed in plastcrete prefab houses. His troops were so thrilled by the quality that they used airbrushes to make the most exquisite mosaics on both the houses and the walls surrounding their barracks. Wes didn't even order them washed off as long as they properly maintained the art. The design was so popular that the nobles started ordering their own prefabs built to house their Poors in as well. Apparently being housed in the new prefabs was offered as an incentive to join the Yuleis' military or a noble's household.

"I am just honored that people recognize my good taste. My hygiene standards wouldn't have accomplished much without proper housing. My thanks for advertising the laundress position around town by the way."

Really his troops were so uncivilized that they did not even pay for soap of sufficient quality to launder their uniforms. It was getting so bad the golden sheen was starting to fade. He had to a hire a local to handle most of the washing and another to polish everyone's armor. All because his unit was full of skinflints when it came to proper self care.

Most of them just waited for the supply ship to arrive and blew through most of their paycheck sending things back to their homeworld. It took the form of Credits, powdered milk, vitamins, used clothing, appliances, technical manuals, tools, the occasional live animal, and cumulative tonnes of dried legumes. Perhaps their relatives had a bad round at the tables or are spending too much at the local jewelry store? Mayhaps the legumes are a part of some strange courtship ritual he is unaware of.

Speaking of adornments, the rest of the Romins' disposable income went into those tacky bronze torcs the natives made to imitate real finery. His troops seem utterly fascinated with them as they cling to those most fiercely. Oku reported them refusing to take them off in the march and sleeping with them on their person. For some reason his troops didn't even display all the torcs they bought, but kept them hidden underneath their uniforms or in their packs. Either way it proved Wes did not command emotionless droids.

"Think nothing of it Commander Telen. I am happy to be of assistance. Although if you still feel obliged, perhaps you could mention to the Imperial Liaison how cooperative we are being in maintaining the Emperor's Peace? Far more than that archaic monarchy would have been. Truly we are glad we did away with the Royal Household and pledged loyalty to the Empire when that fleet came in a month later. We in the Noble Council of Collaboration made the far better choice of serving the Empire's interests after all."

The Imperial Liaison? That stuffy old nutty butty was a bit dreary to listen to. Always harping about when he was in his prime in the Imperial Army. Really who wants to hear some braggart preen about his accomplishments at any available opportunity? However Wes had been helped out of a spot of bother. How can he worm his way out of having to listen to that fogie prattle on while still fulfilling this obligation?

"Now that you mention it, I am organizing a modest event in the near future. A minor animal race that I was intending to invite the Liaison to, How about I give you a VIP welcome and the three of us can discuss how much we have helped each other?"

The noble whose name Wes couldn't be bothered to remember gave a wide smile. Jackpot! Now he can wipe this obligation off the mental list and he has someone to throw at that stuffy Liaison so he can enjoy the racing Shaaks he imported. Just another success for Wes Telen, genius commander of the Most Illustriously Beautiful Company!

——

The upside of the Guild is that practically anyone can join and become mercenaries. The downside is that practically anyone can join and become mercenaries provided they go through the official steps. Quality can vary depending on the sentient responsible for founding the company. The MIBC was caricaturized/inspired by an unholy combination of private military entrepreneurs in Europe during the late medieval period, the British officer system during the Long Century, and native regiments in the British East India Company's nation-sized private military. Wes Telen represents those people who want to (or are forced to) use the Guild as an opportunity to "play officer" to gain clout in the military-centric Imperial politics because dynastic schemes and stupid amounts of generational wealth allow for that kind of thing. What is the Guild going to do, reject military forces raised exclusively on a private individual's Credits being offered to them?

Wes' character started as a bit of a mirror to pre-isekai Las' initial predicament before removing any hint of subtlety and dialing up the entitlement until the knob broke. The main difference is Wes' family is quite a bit richer and actually care enough to send messages on the regular and give him financial support during his exile. The worst part of this situation is that "Commander" Wes is actually helping with his nonsense, albeit mostly unintentionally on his part. Yuleis gets defended by mercenaries better trained and motivated than your average RII mercenaries, Wes' Family gets to talk about what a Good Boy their Paid Exile is, the Romins get out of their slum filled homeworld and can earn money to send aid to their loved ones, the Yuleis' nobles get someone they can lobby at to maintain their influence, and the Yuleis' probably not illiterate peasants get dedicated infrastructure spending for the first time in centuries. Wes is doing the bare minimum as an absentee commander while delegating everything else and it is working. Now if only he wasn't such an insufferable workshy fop prancing about with his not-a-penal legion cosplaying as a reverse version of the Postdam Giants.

The Telen Family are a minor noble dynasty in upper-upper class Core society. While prominent many centuries ago, they have undergone a slow decline in more recent history. Their peers gossip that the Telen Family are past their prime and border what passes for genteel poverty among venerable Core Families.

From their vast dynastic empire in the past, the Telen Family has been reduced to having subcontinent sized land holdings on a mere six worlds. Only one of which is on a minor Core world and the rest in the Mid Rim. Their commercial network has likewise declined to a paltry 23 million sentients working directly for the Family or one of their subsidiaries. Whispers abound that the Telen Family is only surviving due to its ancestral patents, licenses, and royalties. So dire are their circumstances, that an Imperial tax assessor was witnessed on their property without immediately being escorted out for such a breach in propriety.

With such meager resources the Telen Family has adopted a scrappy go-getter mindset uncharacteristic to those of their pedigree. The Family has begun reaching out to those in its small sphere of influence to secure additional revenue sources and prestige. Even those of lower station or in a state of political weakness. There are even rumors that such searches have extended to the barbaric reaches of the Outer Rim, although this has not been confirmed and would be quite scandalous if true.

Crossposted on QQ and SV

Freefaller · Jul 20, 2026

ALLIANCE INTELLIGENCE | TIDE SQUADRON THREAT ASSESSMENT DOSSIER

SUBJECT Tide Squadron Operational Profile and Avoidance Protocols
DISTRIBUTION Alliance High Command / Starfighter Command / PhytoCell Leadership
AUTHORIZATION Office of SpecForce Intelligence
CLASSIFICATION Threat Level Black / Priority Tactical Brief

I. STRATEGIC THREAT ANALYSIS

Tide Squadron functions as the premier roving quick-reaction starfighter element fielded within the Myto Sector. Because Alliance operations in this sector are strictly covert and designed to maintain a minimal signature, Tide Squadron is not actively deployed against our cells. Imperial High Command remains unaware of any organized Alliance infrastructure in the region, allowing critical logistics nodes like the Rusty Refit Orbital Yard to remain untouched.
Instead, Sector Command employs Tide Squadron as an elite hammer against non-Alliance threats. They are tasked with eradicating heavy pirate cartels, breaking syndicate strongholds, and securing major trade corridors. However, their extreme combat capability makes them an existential hazard to any Alliance transport or reconnaissance unit that accidentally crosses their operational vector.

II. COMBAT HISTORY AND PRIMARY TARGETS

Tide Squadron established its reputation during the severe Piracy Surge of Year 37 under the Great ReSynchronization calendar. Operating in high-risk sectors, the squadron was instrumental in destroying several well-funded criminal syndicates and heavy commerce-raiding fleets.
Their most notable campaign involved the systematic eradication of Zann Consortium remnants attempting to build permanent bases along the Myto rim. Tide Squadron's ability to create zones of absolute denial for enemy starfighters was instrumental.

III. COMMAND STRUCTURE AND PILOT PEDIGREE

The squadron is under the direct tactical command of Flight Leader Alvi Mola. While she is the biological sister of the Myto Sector Moff, intelligence confirms this relationship carries zero political weight.

Operational Dossier Mola Cross-Reference
- Sector Moff Mola maintains almost no personal relationships and is entirely estranged from his surviving family.
- Alvi Mola receives no political patronage, special leniency, or preferential supply allocation from the Moff's office.
- Her command position is entirely meritocratic, earned through exceptional flight discipline and an impressive kill count against regional warlords.
Thrawn Connection and Defender Testing
- Prior intelligence confirms that Alvi Mola and many of her senior flight officers previously served as elite aces under Grand Admiral Thrawn.
- Crucially, key members of Tide Squadron served as direct test pilots during the development of Thrawn's TIE Defender program.
- This background endows the squadron with superior energy management skills, extreme high-G tolerance, and an intuitive mastery of advanced starfighter mechanics that far surpasses standard Imperial pilots.

IV. NAVAL ASSETS AND STAGING PLATFORM

Tide Squadron maintains continuous sector mobility by staging out of a dedicated capital ship named the Mytoan Pride.

Mobile Operations Base
- The Mytoan Pride is an Eidolon class light carrier and patrol ship (see report EDLN 961).
- The Eidolon class is a specialized variant of the Modular Strike Cruiser framework manufactured exclusively within the Myto Sector.
- The hull is engineered specifically around rapid flight-deck throughput and an extraordinarily dense point-defense weapon array, designed to screen recovering fighters rather than trap enemy vessels.

V. STARFIGHTER ANALYSIS TIE WHIRLWIND

The squadron is outfitted exclusively with the TIE Whirlwind, an elite space superiority variant designed for extreme maneuverability and high-volume firepower (see detailed technical analysis in report WHRL 142).

Vectoring Capabilities
- The Whirlwind features specialized rotary wing assemblies and articulated weapon housings, allowing pilots to vector primary fire along erratic angles without breaking their primary vector.
Tactical Lethality
- When piloted by veterans of the TIE Defender test program, the Whirlwind becomes exponentially more dangerous.
- These pilots routinely exploit the craft's non-standard firing arcs to bypass standard deflection shields, forcing multiple enemy fighters into defensive break patterns simultaneously.

VI. EVASION DIRECTIVES AND ENGAGEMENT PROTOCOLS

Because our primary objective in the Myto Sector is to preserve our covert footprint, any direct engagement with Tide Squadron represents a severe operational failure. Exposing our presence would force Sector Command to reassign this elite unit from hunting regional syndicates to hunting Alliance cells.

Standing Evasion Orders
- Absolute Non-Engagement Alliance assets are strictly forbidden from provoking or engaging Tide Squadron under any circumstances.
- Immediate Disengagement If an Alliance vessel stumbles into an active Tide Squadron operational grid, immediate micro-jumps or stealth powered-down drifts are mandatory.
- Sortie Restrictions If Tide Squadron is confirmed to be conducting anti-piracy sweeps along an Alliance transit corridor, all supply runs through that grid are suspended until the Mytoan Pride exits the system.
Numerical Requirement and Survival Probability
- In the event of an accidental compromise where engagement is completely unavoidable, flight commanders are mandated to field a minimum two-to-one numerical superiority (2:1 ratio) against Tide Squadron.
- Tactical Note This 2:1 numerical requirement is not meant to secure a fast victory; rather, simulations indicate a two-to-one advantage is the absolute threshold required to raise the Alliance's probability of mission success to fifty percent (50%). Engaging Tide Squadron at parity or lower results in near total destruction of the Alliance flight element.

VII. FIELD ADVISORY

Tide Squadron does not know we are operating in the Myto Sector, and Sector Command must keep it that way. Treat any unconfirmed high-speed sensor signature in the sector as a potential Tide Squadron sweep. Give the Mytoan Pride a wide berth, let them continue hunting the local syndicates, and keep our regional logistics completely invisible.

Freefaller · Jul 20, 2026

IMPERIAL NAVAL BUREAU | WHIRLWIND TECHNICAL EVALUATION DOSSIER

DOCUMENT SUMMARY | Technical Evaluation and Performance Audit of the TIE W Whirlwind
ISSUING AUTHORITY | Myto Sector Naval Office, Bureau of Shipyard Procurement
AUTHORIZATION | Ministry of Military Logistics and Development
CLASSIFICATION | Restricted Naval Data

SECTION I DEVELOPMENT HISTORY AND DESIGN PHILOSOPHY

The TIE W Whirlwind originated as a localized industrial initiative spearheaded by Moff Mola during his tenure as Governor of the Minda system. Seeking to expand local high technology manufacturing export catalogs and showcase advanced orbital production capabilities, his engineering teams were originally tasked with designing a premium starfighter frame for specialized military contract acquisition.

Unlike traditional mass produced TIE variants designed around cheap swarm tactics, the Whirlwind was engineered from its inception as a pure space superiority platform. The design team focused exclusively on aerial dogfighting dominance by prioritizing extreme agility, high volume energy fire, and multi directional shielding to counter modern starfighter threats.

The project reached its true potential following the unexpected disappearance of Grand Admiral Thrawn. With the Grand Admiral absent, the Imperial Navy officially shut down his highly classified TIE Defender program. A massive surplus of developmental resources, along with the project's veteran engineering personnel, were subsequently transferred directly to the Minda system. Local teams immediately utilized this influx of top tier talent and technology to drastically upgrade the Whirlwind prototype. Many of the revolutionary advancements originally developed for the Defender were successfully adapted into the new chassis, which is the primary reason the final production model utilizes highly similar internal parts, power plants, and avionics packages.

SECTION II TECHNICAL SPECIFICATION SHEET

Parameter	Specification
Model	TIE-W 'Whirlwind'
Unit Cost	380,000 credits
Length	11.2 meters
Height	7.0 meters
Maximum Acceleration	4,100 G / 20 MGLT/s
Megalight per Hour	100 MGLT
Maximum Atmospheric Speed	1,200 km/h
Maximum Maneuver Rating	150 (Operational Limit) / 200 (Theoretical Maximum)
Engine System	P-sz9.7 twin ion engine
Hyperdrive System	None
Power Plant	I-s4d solar ionization reactor
Deflector Shielding	Forward, rear, and above/below shield projectors
Hull Composition	Titanium hull with quadanium steel solar panels
Sensor Suite	Five close-range sensor arrays
Targeting Computer	T-s9a targeting computer
Navigation Computer	N-s6 Navcon navigation computer
Primary Armament	4 L-s9.3 laser cannons
Secondary Armament	2 general-purpose warhead launchers
Escape System	Ejector seat
Crew Complement	1 Pilot
Cargo Capacity	65 kilograms
Consumables	1 week
Life Support	None
Availability	Military requisition only
Primary Role	Space superiority fighter
Introduction Date	Year 32
Affiliation	Galactic Empire

SECTION III TACTICAL AND PERFORMANCE ASSESSMENT

The performance envelope of the TIE W Whirlwind significantly surpasses standard Imperial naval light interceptors across multiple key categories. The inclusion of forward, rear, and vertical shield projectors drastically increases pilot survival rates during chaotic dogfights, while the titanium hull and quadanium paneling provide substantial structural rigidity against intense kinetic strain.

To maximize combat capability without overcomplicating the chassis weight distribution, the design retains the classic unpressurized cockpit environment. This requires flight crews to wear standard sealed flight suits due to the complete lack of internal life support systems. However the inclusion of an ejector seat represents a major departure from core Imperial TIE doctrine, a choice specifically made to safeguard the massive financial investment required for elite pilot training.

The ship maneuver rating is currently artificially restricted to 150 under standard flight control software to prevent severe pilot blackout during high velocity turns. Under theoretical unrestricted conditions the hull and engine configuration can achieve a maneuver rating of 200, though operating at this extreme threshold risks fatal physical trauma to the pilot unless heavily mitigated by advanced flight gear and specialized conditioning.

When compared directly to the TIE Defender platform, the Whirlwind carries a noticeably lighter weapon payload consisting of only four laser cannons and two warhead launchers. This reduction in raw firepower stems directly from internal space constraints and the added mechanical complexity of mounting the cannons on articulated moving turrets. Naval tacticians do not view this lighter armament as a structural defect because the Whirlwind was never intended as a multirole platform. While the Defender was built to engage capital ships and assault craft alike, the Whirlwind is engineered purely to fight vessels of its own size class, making four turreted cannons more than sufficient to disintegrate enemy starfighters.

SECTION IV OPERATIONAL LIMITS AND PILOT CAPABILITIES

The operational cap of 150 on the maneuver rating is a software safety barrier embedded directly within the onboard flight systems. Flight testing revealed that beyond this threshold, the starfighter responds and turns far too rapidly for standard human reflexes. The control sensitivity becomes so hyper reactive and the rotational acceleration so extreme that average pilots instantly overcorrect, lose control of their flight vector, and forfeit situational awareness. This physical twitchiness, combined with display telemetry flooding the cockpit faster than the mind can process, makes operating above 150 impossible for all but the most exceptional aviators.

Despite this universal computer restriction, select elite flight officers have demonstrated the ability to manually override these parameters. True aces within specialized formations like Tide Squadron regularly operate beyond standard safety margins, with most squadron members flying between a rating of 150 and 160. Commander Alvi Mola represents the highest recorded threshold among conventional naval aviators, having demonstrated the capability to master the craft's extreme responsiveness and maintain full spatial control at a maneuver rating of 168.

The absolute highest maneuver rating score ever recorded in test telemetry was achieved by the Inquisitor known as the Seventh Brother, who reached a score of 175 during a specialized evaluation flight. Naval analysts theorize that his Force abilities allowed him to anticipate spatial vectors and react to the craft's hyper-sensitive movements at speeds that completely bypass normal biological limitations.

Yacov · Jul 22, 2026

Omake: Project Alloy Extend

Mytoan Mixed Reinforcement Battalion Order of Battle and Doctrine Review by General Frast Volga

MMRB Order of Battle

Type: Quick reaction unit

Sub-type: Low-cost anti-raid force

Troop numbers (excluding support personnel and droids):

~800-900 Combat personnel
2 Imperial Army Imperial Auxiliary Companies (298)
1 Imperial Army Repuslorlift company (220)
1 Imperial Army Line company (180)
25-100 IGCPP mercenary specialists
2 Flight groups of TIE/Mindas or other starfighters

Background

With the onset of the Syndicate War, a fresh wave of chaos and raiding struck the Myto Sector. This led to a hastening of the continuous adaptations and changes to the Order of Battle for the Imperial Military in the Myto Sector. There was little concern of actually losing a world or even a major settlement. Rather it was to avoid disrupting the economy on those worlds by enacting costly civilian mobilization and the raising of militias to deal with the threat.

Therefore one of the most pressing matters was to develop a low-cost anti-raiding formation developed under Project Alloy Extend. This formation could be sent to ensure order and a continuation of daily life on various worlds under threat from inter-Syndicate warfare and those that would take advantage of the confusion. Now when one thinks of lowering cost in the Myto Sector, one tends to think of the Imperial Auxiliary Battalions. Objections have continued to be noted and welcomed against further integration of the Auxiliaries. Nevertheless, this new wave of disorder brought about by Syndicate violence, the Auxiliaries' past performance against previous pirate raids, and the Grand Moff's continued focus of the Oversector's forces in the direction of the Mid Rim have convinced Sector Command of the potential benefits of attempting further embedding Auxiliaries into the standard Imperial structure.

The result of this attempt was the Myto Mixed Reinforcement Battalion. A mixed formation made up mostly from common units available in the Imperial Military Secondment Deployment Pool. This mixing of primarily Imperial Auxiliary companies and standard Imperial Army companies was seen as way to handle remote, small scale warfare on frontier worlds while keeping the manpower and equipment costs low.

MMRB Formation

An MMRB is typically made up of four companies like most Imperial battalions, plus some extra additions. These battalions would tend to be between 800 and 900 combat personnel. A notable increase in military trained and equipped sentients on worlds they were sent to.

The main command battalion is an Imperial Army Line company. This company would focus on providing leadership and coordination with the other elements of the battalion from a central location. They would also provide a last line of defense should the raiders break through the other companies.

Two Imperial Auxiliary companies make up the largest element of an MMRB. These forces would man the first defenses in the predicted path of the raid. Should the raiders hit their defenses, the Auxiliaries are to hold out for further reinforcements or until large enough friendly casualties are taken.

The final company would be an Imperial Army Repulsorlift company. This would be the main offensive element of the battalion. While the other companies would focus on defensive and delaying tactics, the Repulsorlift company was there to deliver the decisive blow to either end the battle early or finish a battle that had become bogged down. Containing little heavy armor in its company, they rely on speed, surprise, and flanking to deal with their often ill-disciplined enemy.

There were also two main additions to the MMRB to increase its capacity to fight independently of the need arises. The first is two flights of TIE/Mindas or hopefully equivalent starfighters. A full squadron was proposed at first, but due to cost concerns, a defensive and an offensive flight were deemed sufficient for the formation. These fighters are meant to secure the skies and keep raider fighters and dropships from attacking Imperial civilians and soldiers as well as provide close air support once the skies are clear.

These second addition to the MMRB are IGCPP mercenaries. These are typically recruited from the local system or brought in from a nearby system on a contract for the single conflict. They typically serve as specialists for the MMRB such as skirmishers, scouts, infiltrators, heavy infantry, and occasionally pilots for vehicles owned by the mercenary. While rarely do these mercenaries stand on the battle line with the companies, their capabilities for independent actions allow the MMRB utilize tactical options beyond what their companies would normally allow.

Typical MMRB independent deployment strategy

MMRBs are most frequently sent to frontier worlds within the Myto Sector for short periods. They can be sent to more populous worlds, however usually the Imperial garrison and the PDF are able to handle the type of threat the MMRB was made to combat. MMRBs are typically sent to defend against a known or rumored threat of a raid on the planet. They typically fight raiding parties made up of raiders numbering in the mid to high hundreds to a little over a thousand.

Upon arrival the MMRB will assess the situation and the state of the local Imperial Garrison. If a battalion level commander or above exists, the MMRB will subordinate themselves to them and follow their battle plan. However should the Imperial Garrison lack such a rank, the MMRB's major will assume command and begin using their standard battle plan. Although the local Imperial commander will be kept as a direct advisor to the major in matters of local affairs and terrain regardless of their rank.

The MMRB's standard battle plan is a two step catch and strike strategy. They wish to meet the raiders with their defensive positions, before sending their mobile force to hit their flank and break their raiding party. Afterwards a mobile force and the battalion's starfighters will be dispatched to pursue the routing force and either destroy them entirely, or at minimum drive them off the planet.

Standard placement and assignment of their companies and their other elements reflects this strategy. An MMRB wishes to set up in a defensible terrain feature that the raiding force will have to go through while on the ground such as a valley or a bridge for a raging river. This is so the raiding force cannot just bypass the MMRB and head towards their objective.

The additional elements of the MMRB are essential for forcing the enemy to go along with this strategy. The starfighters will be separated into a defensive flight and an offensive flight. The defensive flight will prevent the enemy from just using dropships or their main ship to land on top of their objectives. Meanwhile the offensive flight goal is to harry the raiding force and trying to funnel them towards the MMRB's position while stopping them from spreading out to ravage the countryside. This harassment is also where the majority of the IGCPP mercenaries will be utilized. Their independent and often more agile nature being used to hit patrols and small parties of raiders that are not heading towards the MMRB's main force.

The two Imperial Auxiliary companies will be placed in two positions at the front of the MMRB's main position. Their placement should try to force the raiding force to either engage them, or divert towards the Line company's position. The Line company should be further back and between the two Auxiliary companies to catch any raiders trying to bypass their positions. The Repulsorlift company is typically positioned in a reserve position close to the frontlines while also able to head towards the raider's objective should they somehow get a force past the battalion's position. Once the raiders are engaged with any of the three infantry companies, the commander will order an element or the entirety of the Repulsorlift company kept in reserve to hit the raiding force in the flank or rear. A sudden attack from a vulnerable angle is usually sufficient to cause a raiding force to begin to suffer from morale breakdown. Should the raiding force overcome the MMRB's formation or the force prove far larger than expected, the battalion will engage in an orderly retreat to the world's capital and begin requesting for further Imperial reinforcements while trying to keep the main population centers of the world from being raided.

After the raiding forces have been confirmed destroyed or routed, the MMRB will be picked up from the system. The battalion will then be sent to the next system under threat by raiders after being resupplied with equipment and fresh troops. It would be preferable that there be an MMRB deployed to every system under threat medium term to deter further attacks. Unfortunately the current rate of raiding and the Sector's lack of sufficient manpower necessitates the MMRBs be quick reaction forces only deployed shortly before and then shortly after the raid. This need for mobility also means any further requests for medium to heavy artillery or heavy vehicles for an MMRB are denied as they do not fall in line with its light, mobile focus.

While this strategy may not contain much tactical complexity, it has been deemed within the capability of freshly graduated commanders from local academies. Thus this author recommends that we continue the practice of giving priority to command postings for the MMRBs to young commanders so that they may gain experience leading a battalion sized formation in engagements of relatively small scale and consequence. The notable diversity of units and troops should also allow Sector Command to determine which commanders have more Imperial valued mindsets in order to reward them with a reassignment fitting for such steadfast and loyal adherence to the tenets of the New Order.

Glory to the Emperor, Glory to the Empire.

——

With a bit of time passing, the military is bound to change to adapt to its current environment. I see the Imperial Military in the Myto Sector in an odd place undergoing feast and famine simultaneously. On one hand they have great access to local resources due to them not being mired in corruption and cutting edge technology, but on the other hand they also lack the enough of the traditional pools of manpower for widespread use of "standard" Imperial formations and tactics. At the top they have some of the most well equipped and technologically advanced forces in the Empire. Yet they are stretched thin, are low priority for outside resupply, and also on the Moff's orders not working the Imperial soldiers to the point of collapse with constant deployments. So at the bottom they have to rely on mercenaries and non-human soldiers to defend the entire breadth of their territory.

The MMRB is essentially the Myto Imperial Military opting to "water down" its "proper" Imperial Army units with Imperial Auxiliaries and mercenaries. This might be done in order to make the "proper" Imperial troops they do have stretch farther while also relegating these new "experimental" formations to out of the way (and out of sight of the wider Empire) areas of operation to avoid scrutiny. With 200 systems to defend and rising with colonization, combined with less aid from the Oversector, sacrifices are probably going to be made to keep everything defended. At least the Auxiliaries are getting a bit more combat experience and a tiny bit of glory and credit.

The MMRB also serves to give a sense of the scale a lot of the Myto Sector is dealing with at this time. Frontier systems have around 3-7 hundred thousand sentients each and make up almost half of the 200 notable systems in the Myto Sector. If say up to 1% of the local population in a Frontier System is employed full time for local planetary defense during low or no mobilization that's still only 3-7 thousand people to work with, and with each additional percentage mobilized leading to exponentially more damage to the system's civilian economy. Also a lot of those troops are going to be in noncombat roles like logistics, maintenance, and bureaucracy, even if droids are available to lighten the load. With that scale in mind, suddenly 800+ "elite" combat troops (i.e. higher status than militia or PDF) and their support staff start looking a bit more impactful. Also a raiding party of a few hundred pirates attacking a planet become a much greater local threat.

Crossposted on SB and SV

Edit: changed the project name to something a little less blatant, but carrying the same connotation due to some feedback on another site.

Freefaller · Jul 23, 2026

Chp-119

Admiral Gerel Dionhar
Akahista Orbit
3.1 ABY

Admiral Dionhar stared at the vessel through the shuttle viewport. The Vigil of Starless Night hung before him, the second ever Arbiter-Class vessel.

A cowards ship, meant only to stay behind the vessels of true warriors. Fitting that the Moff had chosen it as their meeting place.

Oh, he was aware that calling a Moff a coward would be career suicide. At least, for most Admirals. Dionhar wasn't under the command of the local Moff, after all, and reported instead to the Grand Moff directly.

A prestigious position, if only it didn't also leave him in the ass end of nowhere without a chance at glory or prestige in combat.

Upon the shuttles docking, he disembarked into the hangar. It was vast, holding countless TIE's of various types, many of those being the newfangled Mytoan variants he'd seen in the Akahistan's governors forces.

Above him claws held individual fighters along a rail system, while on the ground sat larger vessels.

Before him stood an aide who nervously guided him towards the meeting room.

The halls of the vessel were lively with personnel rushing to and fro. At the same time, those hallways disgusted him.

On one wall, there was a poster for a Walker-Ball match in the hanger! If this had been his ship, he would've personally executed anyone who dared to suggest such a blatant waste of time and effort!

It was clear to him how the Moff liked to run things, and it felt distinctly anti-imperial. Still, Dionhar held his tongue. This would all be in a report to the Grand Moff anyways, and if Kaine had any sense Mola would be demoted.

Soon he found himself inside the meeting room, a utilitarian place with not a decoration in sight, simply two chairs and a table, sitting across from the Moff himself. A large, lizard-like creature wound itself around his shoulders, eyes seeming to bore into his soul.

"Glad to meet you, Admiral Dionhar." Said the Moff, reaching a hand out to shake. He accepted, if only to keep up the veneer of politeness.

"The pleasure is mine, Moff Mola. Now, what brings you to my post? Its rare for my position to get visitors."

The Moff before him straightened in his chair, eyes tightening. He removed from his pocket a small disk, a holo projector, placing it on the table.

Upon activation, it showcased a map of the galaxy. Markings showcased fleet movements, policing actions, and more.

"Can you see the pattern, Admiral Dionhar?"

He stared at the map for a little while longer, trying as he might to find it. "No, I'm afraid not, Moff Mola. What is the meaning of this?"

"The pattern, Admiral, is the Crimson Dawn. In every known sighting in the past months, the Dawn has gotten away. In fact, overall sightings of Dawn ships have dropped dramatically. Almost as if they knew where Imperial ships were going to be."

In a flash, Dionhar was at his feet, hands slamming into the table. "Are you accusing me of treason!? How dare you! I was personally chosen by the Grand Moff himself!"

Mola stayed infuriatingly calm, his posture unchanging even as his eyes scanned the Admiral. The lizard let out a low, almost threatening rumble. Dionhar avoided looking at it.

"Calm yourself. I'm not making any accusations here. If I suspected you to be a traitor, we wouldn't be having a conversation in the first place."

Dionhar huffed, dropping back down into his chair. "So, what? Am I to believe that somehow spies have infiltrated the Hub? It's one of the most tightly secured facilities in the galaxy, of that I've made sure."

"And yet, like all facilities, it's connected to the holonet."

The Admiral frowned. "At best a slicer could listen in on encrypted comms, and we change the encryption every other week, as well as the techs making the codes, and the five teams of people adding more complexity to the encryption. Safe to say, the Dawn would need to compromise nearly a hundred people."

"Thats not what I mean, though it is something that should be checked. No, what I mean is, last year, someone took down the holonet relays. In the panic, ships were pulled from Akahista."

Dionhar leaned forward. "You mean to tell me that somehow, Crimson Dawn caused the relay blackout to infiltrate the Hub?"

"It seems the only explanation" was Mola's response, gesturing towards the projector. "The data lines up. And the Dawn is specialized in infiltration. If anyone could do it, it would be them."

Dionhar felt a thin bead of sweat start to form despite the room's chill. This was…bad. Very bad. He didn't quite believe it, but that didn't matter. What mattered is that it was believable enough, and as such if this information was revealed to his superiors…

Well, Naval HIGHCOM had a habit of scapegoating whenever possible. He'd be lucky to be demoted.

Before he could continue to deny the accusations, the Moff spoke.

"I come to you with this so that we may coordinate. By investigating this issue with the help of the Governor-General and ISB, we may yet find the spies."

"You want to bring the ISB in on this?" Dionhar was in shock. To purposefully bring in the ISB, or any of their superiors, was a death sentence!

"Of course. They will eventually, inevitably, discover the same information I have. Better we report it ourselves and work with them to fix this."

"It'll see us both demoted at best!"

Here the Moff seemed to grow angry, his voice rising just a tad. "Admiral. We are servants of the Emperor. If demotion is the punishment for our failure, then so be it. I will be sending the message in 24 hours. Full cooperation will be expected."

Dionhar studied the Moffs face. A patriot? A real Imperial patriot? Damnation, why did he have to get stuck in a room with the rarest species in the galaxy!?

"...I understand. For the Empire, Moff Mola."

"For the Empire."

They saluted one another, and Dionhar left the room at a quicker pace than he'd entered with. He had no time to waste, after all. And that lizard scared him.

It was imperative he get to the Hub, and change the outgoing logs! His master override should work, and so if he could just change the logs, erase evidence he changed them, he could buy himself time.

After all, the ISB would arrive, see completely normal looking logs, and then leave to focus on the Moff wasting their time! It would give him the time he needed to track down these spies, if they existed.

And if they didn't, the logs would be perfectly fine, and he'd be perfectly fine. But the sweat upon his brown betrayed the truth.

If there was even the slightest chance the Moff was right, he had to check!

–

Akahista, Pyramid One
3.1 ABY

Three shadows crept down the side of the building, silent limbs using magnets to avoid the treacherous fall.

They had inserted themselves in the dead of the planet's night cycle, and now poised themselves before the gaps between the pyramids layers. A small maintenance shaft stood there, and quickly they entered, sleek black ID-10 making quick work of the electronic lock.

No noise was made as they swiftly passed through the hall, their armor covered head to toe in noise and signal dampening material.

Through the maintenance section they went, arriving swiftly into the main cooling bay of the pyramid. Here liquid was pumped in and out of the supercomputer above, then moved to sites further away in the city to cool off before being cycled back in.

From their hidden location, the shadows once again dispatched their droids, the red glow of their eyes removed to maintain their stealth. The metal creatures found their way to the cameras in the room, setting them to loop footage one by one until the room was blind to the security forces.

Then, they made their way to the engineering consoles. The shadows above fired small darts into some farther off machinery, small electrical discharges causing a commotion and bringing the engineers away from their consoles.

With unrestricted access, the droids hacked their way in, one droid accessing the panel and the other two plugging into the first droid in order to combine their processing power.

In seconds, pumps started to stutter. Liquid was sent out in short bursts rather than a continuous stream. A common enough glitch in coolant systems galaxy wide that the only eyebrows raised would be those of engineers wondering how such an advanced location would allow such failures.

Of course, such concerns would never be raised. After all, failures were things to be hidden in the Empire.

The shadows left their hiding space in short order, slipping into an open hatch in the coolant pipes. The stuttering pumps meant they weren't swimming in coolant, yet the pipes were far below a survivable temperature regardless.

Each of them activated simple heating packs stitched into their armor and checked their environmental seals before moving onwards. They held onto their droids, using the machine's propulsion to speed up through the waist high coolant.

Within a single harrowing minute, they were able to exit the cooling pipe and enter the colossal supercomputer, the Hub itself. Machinery lay all around them, piling high up above with crisscrossing wires and perilous gantries abound.

Not a single guardrail either, though workplace safety wasn't an Imperial concern.

Again, their droids went first, finding each and every camera along their path. The shadows climbed silently, grappling hooks pulling them upwards with ease.

Finally, they found themselves at the central access computer. The heart and soul of the compound.

Expert hands installed the device easily enough, hidden eyes scanning for threats where there were none. The second team across the facility had done well in drawing attention away from the computers center.

Soon, the second illegal modification to the computer was installed. They could've removed the first, it was right there. But its discovery was key. So, for now, they did as ordered.

Their path out was much the same, and within the hour three shadows slunk back into the darkness of the surrounding city.

–

Yo. For some reason writing just hasn't been coming to me as easily. Maybe i'm just not as excited to write this story, maybe i just don't like writing as much as I used to, who knows. I'll finish this story, as I promised, but it'll take more time. Its gotten almost out of control, this one, growing far beyond my intended premise. Did you know that in the beginning, I had intended the story to stop at Endor, with Las as a Governor? He was never supposed to become Moff, but I liked the idea so much I had to throw it in. Same with so many other aspects. And now I have a dozen characters I can barely remember and a rough draft of a plan for post-endor so rough it could be used as sandpaper.\

But, I said I'd finish the story, so I will. Planning will be refined and the chapters will be continuing. I expect that once this more stressful chapter of my life has passed this will come easier to me.

As for the cooking update, I actually did a few new things. Tried a new chocolate cake recipe, it was aight, honestly very moist even after a couple days but kinda bland. Great with ice cream tho. Also made some cucumber and zucchini bread, the former because I bought cucumbers by accident. Didn't like it, zucchini bread is better for sure.

Gonna go for braided danishes next, because normal danishes i buy from Costco piss me off. Too much of the cheese is left in the center in an island and you either toss it and waste food or eat it and get too much cheese taste which is gross.

-Freefaller

Freefaller · Jul 24, 2026

IMPERIAL NAVAL BUREAU | DREADNOUGHT-II TECHNICAL EVALUATION DOSSIER

DOCUMENT SUMMARY | Technical Evaluation and Performance Audit of the Dreadnought-II
ISSUING AUTHORITY | Sector Naval Office, Bureau of Shipyard Procurement
AUTHORIZATION | Ministry of Military Logistics and Development
CLASSIFICATION | Restricted Naval Data

SECTION I DEVELOPMENT HISTORY AND DESIGN PHILOSOPHY
The original Dreadnaught class heavy cruiser remains one of the most widespread capital ships in galactic naval history. Originally produced by Rendili StarDrive, the aging hull design eventually saw widespread licensing and reproduction across regional shipyards. On the world of Belladoon, manufacturing firm MynockArms secured official license rights from the original planetary shipwrights to produce a modernized vessel designated as the Dreadnought-II, targeting the major inefficiencies of the venerable architecture.

The primary weakness of the original Rendili blueprints was an extraordinarily bloated crew requirement. Operating a single baseline vessel required over sixteen thousand personnel due to archaic internal transit systems, manual power routing, and labor intensive loading mechanics. MynockArms focused its overhaul on streamlining internal layouts, installing modern power distribution conduits, and replacing obsolete manual controls with standardized ergonomic workstations. These mechanical refinements successfully reduced the required staffing on the Dreadnought-II to 2700 officers and crewmen.

To address production costs and fleet integration, upon winning the contract MynockArms reached out directly to the Mindan R&D team for specialized engineering assistance. Through this collaborative effort, designers succeeded in integrating the Dreadnought-II frame into standardized Imperial logistics pipelines. This partnership increased parts compatibility with standard Imperial naval supplies to an impressive 16%. As a result, the unit cost dropped to 7,000,000 credits despite the extensive modernization of onboard systems.

In addition to structural streamlining and supply line integration, MynockArms modernized the propulsion systems by swapping out the sluggish Class 4 hyperdrive for a military grade Class 1 system. The exterior hull proportions and heavy armor plating were strictly preserved, ensuring that the Dreadnought-II maintains its legendary durability while gaining the mobility required for modern fleet engagements.

SECTION II TECHNICAL SPECIFICATION SHEET

Parameter	Specification
Model	Dreadnought-II Heavy Cruiser
Manufacturer	MynockArms (Under license, Belladoon Shipyards)
Unit Cost	7,000,000 credits
Length	600.0 meters
Width	116.5 meters
Height	129.7 meters
Megalight per Hour	30 MGLT
Hyperdrive System	Class 1 (Primary), Class 10 (Backup)
Engine System	6 heavy ion sublight engines
Deflector Shielding	Military grade shield generator arrays
Hull Composition	Heavy reinforced titanium alloy hull
Crew Complement	2,700 officers and crewmen
Minimum Crew	1,200 personnel
Passengers	1,000 ground troops
Primary Turbolasers	10 twin medium turbolaser batteries (5 fore, 5 aft)
Secondary Turbolasers	10 light quad turbolaser cannons (5 port, 5 starboard)
Ion Armament	6 heavy ion cannons (3 port, 3 starboard)
Anti Starfighter Armament	20 heavy laser cannons (10 port, 10 starboard)
Ordnance	None
Hangar Complement	12 TIE series starfighters (1 full squadron) plus shuttle support
Consumables	1 year
Primary Role	Heavy escort and patrol cruiser

SECTION III TACTICAL AND PERFORMANCE ASSESSMENT
To accommodate the modernized weapon layout without altering the physical six hundred meter keel, MynockArms reallocated internal deck space previously reserved for massive crew quarters and outdated fire control centers. 10 light quad turbolaser batteries were removed, reducing the quad turbolaser count from 20 down to 10. The freed power conduits and mounting points were repurposed for 6 heavy ion cannons split evenly across the port and starboard broadsides. Furthermore, the outdated concussion missile launchers were completely removed, eliminating volatile ordnance magazines and streamlining internal supply requirements.

The inclusion of heavy ion cannons gives the Dreadnought-II a tactical capability the baseline cruiser lacked. While the original design relied strictly on kinetic and thermal damage from turbolasers, the Dreadnought-II can neutralize enemy shields and disable target systems for capture or boarding. The 10 remaining light quad turbolasers, 10 twin medium turbolasers, and 20 heavy laser cannons ensure the ship retains formidable broadside punch and anti starfighter coverage.

Internal space saved through crew reduction also allowed engineers to modernize the ventral hangar bay. The Dreadnought-II comfortably houses twelve TIE fighters of various configurations, providing a full starfighter squadron alongside shuttle support without requiring structural expansions that might weaken the lower hull bulkheads.

SECTION IV CRITICAL DESIGN ANALYSIS AND EVALUATION
Naval Fleet Command Audit
The Dreadnought-II successfully eliminates historical crew inefficiencies while maintaining full combat resilience.At 2700 personnel, the ship maintains a crew complement that is fully adequate for a 600 meter capital ship.

This staffing footprint is slightly larger than that of a comparable Vindicator class heavy cruiser, ensuring that the vessel has more than enough sailors and gunners to maintain high firing rates, operate damage control teams, and execute field repairs during sustained combat.

Logistically, the technical partnership with the Mindan R&D team represents a major success. Achieving 16% parts compatibility with standard Imperial supply chains drastically lowers long term maintenance overhead and allows regional sector fleets to service these vessels using standard Imperial naval depots.

By retaining a standard twelve craft starfighter complement and removing volatile concussion missile magazines, MynockArms avoided structural compromises to the ventral hull. While firing full ion broadsides concurrently with the main turbolaser batteries places noticeable thermal strain on the primary power core during extended engagements, the Dreadnought-II stands as an exceptionally cost effective and reliable heavy capital ship at 7,000,000 credits per unit.

--

Here is what the new Dreadnought-II looks like, ignore the statistics the imagine provides it was chosen solely for the visuals.

Freefaller · Jul 24, 2026

IMPERIAL ARMY BUREAU | STORMWALKER TECHNICAL EVALUATION DOSSIER

DOCUMENT SUMMARY | Technical Evaluation and Operational Audit of the AT-SW Storm Walker
ISSUING AUTHORITY | Sector Army Command, Ordnance and Armor Division
AUTHORIZATION | Ministry of Military Logistics and Development
CLASSIFICATION | Restricted Tactical Data

SECTION I DEVELOPMENT HISTORY AND DOCTRINE ALIGNMENT
The AT-SW Storm Walker was designed by MynockArms to resolve a major logistical bottleneck within sector deployment forces. While sector military doctrine prioritizes concentrated firepower, the standard patrol vessel of the sector, the Arbiter, lacks the overhead bay dimensions required to carry standard All Terrain Armored Transports.
To bridge this operational gap, MynockArms developed a compact heavy assault walker engineered specifically to fit within the storage decks of Arbiter class ships. By eliminating the massive troop bay found on traditional transports, engineers dedicated the vast majority of internal hull volume to high-output power generation and heavy composite armor plating. The result is a walker that delivers the frontal destruction of an AT-AT while operating from a far more versatile footprint.

Through extensive component modularity, MynockArms achieved a 31 percent parts compatibility rating with existing AT series walker lines. Because the Imperial Army utilizes a wide variety of walker frames, MynockArms sourced existing drives, hydraulic linkages, and control actuators directly from established supply depots. This high level of shared hardware drastically reduces maintenance overhead and simplifies field repairs across sector garrisons.

SECTION II TECHNICAL SPECIFICATION SHEET

Parameter	Specification
Model	All Terrain Storm Walker (AT-SW)
Manufacturer	MynockArms
Unit Cost	123,000 credits (Standard) / 132,000 credits (Command Variant)
Height	15.0 meters
Length	8.5 meters
Width	6.3 meters
Maximum Speed	80 km/h (50 mph)
Crew Complement	2 to 3 (Pilot, Co-Pilot/Gunner, optional Commander)
Primary Armament	2 heavy chin laser cannons, 2 temple repeating blasters
Secondary Armament	1 chin-mounted dual laser cannon turret (Anti-Infantry)
Ordnance	2 lateral 20-tube general-purpose warhead launchers
Armor Plating	Heavy reinforced composite armor
Parts Compatibility	31 percent shared parts with AT series inventory
Troop Capacity	None (Emergency capacity for up to 10 unsafely crammed personnel)
Primary Role	Heavy assault walker

SECTION III TACTICAL PERFORMANCE AND COMBAT UTILITY
The AT-SW Storm Walker brings devastating firepower to ground operations. Its primary forward armament replicates the heavy chin cannons and temple blasters of the standard AT-AT layout. To enhance close range defense, MynockArms integrated an additional chin mounted dual laser cannon turret optimized for rapid anti-infantry sweep fire. Mounted on either side of the cockpit are two 20 tube general purpose warhead launchers, capable of firing high explosive, concussion, or smoke munitions to break enemy fortifications.

The power plant generates ample energy to drive heavy armor plating and achieve top speeds of 80 km/h (50 mph), allowing the Storm Walker to advance alongside lighter mechanized units.
To support field command structures, MynockArms offers a specialized Command Variant priced at 132,000 credits. This model accommodates a third crew member and installs high-grade sensor arrays alongside long-range communication gear, transforming the walker into an armored forward command post for tactical directors.

SECTION IV OPERATIONAL LIMITATIONS AND VULNERABILITY ASSESSMENT
Sector Army Field Audit
The AT-SW fulfills its primary assault role with distinction, though commanders must account for its strict crew footprint and optical sensor dependencies in urban combat zones.
While the AT-SW fulfills the sector requirement for heavy firepower, the sacrifice of internal troop space creates operational limits. The vehicle cannot act as a troop carrier. In emergency situations, up to ten soldiers can fit inside the cramped engine corridors, but this lacks safety harnesses and creates severe hazards for both the crew and the passengers.

Additionally, crew protection requirements led to narrow, heavily armored viewport slits. To navigate and target effectively, the crew relies on an external 360 degree optical camera suite mounted around the hull. In intense fire fights or close-quarters combat, hostile fire or explosive shrapnel can damage these external cameras, forcing the crew to rely on degraded sensors or restricted manual vision.

Freefaller · Jul 29, 2026

Chp-120

Admiral Gerel Dionhar
Akahista Orbit
3.1 ABY

Two days after meeting the Moff, Dionhar found himself back aboard the Vigil, and once again within a meeting room.

The smaller room he'd been in previously had been replaced with a near-standard Imperial meeting room. Near standard because instead of being a stark grey box, it was circular, holding warm lighting and comfortable seats.

He might've brushed it off as the Moffs personal meeting room but given how he passed three other rooms of the same kind on the way in it was clear these were standard on Arbiters. Another flagrantly anti-imperial modification that would encourage laziness among sailors.

Still, he put those thoughts in his mind. After all, he was supposed to be feeling great! After all, he successfully covered his tracks. Once things blew over he could quietly find and deal with the Crimson Dawn spies and be rid of this debacle. Or perhaps extract a concession or two from the Dawn, if possible.

All he had to do was wait for the Grand Moffs representative to arrive. The report he sent to his superior clearly indicated the Moff in the whole debacle, so he should be fine.

Of course, the reality was that he wasn't feeling great, mostly because of the "fool I see before me who dares to question the integrity of my character!?"

The ISB agent before him, one Lieutenant Bree, scoffed. "It is hardly an insult to speak facts. You failed to ensure the security of the facility you were assigned to guard."

Before he could respond, Bree turned to the Moff. "And I am quite surprised that you also allowed this failure to occur, Moff Mola. You've been nothing but an exemplary servant of the Emperor until now."

"My sincerest apologies, Lieutenant. The blackout was a sudden event that created an immediate and massive crisis. The Governor-General has been focused heavily on mid-rim trade route protection, rightfully so, however this means the sector's forces were simply not in large enough supply to both deal with the piracy spike and keep a stricter eye on the relay network."

Bree's eyes narrowed, then flickered over to the man sitting next to him, a representative of the Governor-General who was also attending the meeting on account of the report the Moff sent both offices.

"Don't look at me! The Governor-General has been acting in his official capacity to protect the sectors under his command."

"Which has put other sectors under his command at risk. This is unacceptable."

"Oh please!" exclaimed the representative. "You're just a Lieutenant, ISB or not. Speaking poorly of your betters reflects badly upon you. Not to mention, this whole debacle would never have happened if the ISB did their jobs properly!"

Now Bree looked angry. "The ISB is infinitely more competent than you and yours. The fact is, if the Admiral here had any skill, and if the Governor-General had any real ability-!"

His PDA rang, a report. He paused his rant, glaring at the representative before going to check it.

"Ah, it seems the Hubs logs have been acquired. Now lets see here…"

Before further action could be taken, the doors slid open to reveal a new figure. An Admiral, uniform fit and clean. Face mired in anger.

"I am here on behalf of the Grand Moff himself, and I DEMAND an explanation!"

From there, things devolved. Dionhar would've liked to say that he was above it all, and sat back to watch the show, but to his shame he got viscerally involved. By the end, his face was red from shouting and everyone was standing up.

Everyone, save for the Moff, who had remained seated, calm, and collected. Even his pet lizard, seemingly glued to his shoulders, was perfectly calm. He only spoke when asked a question. Each time, deflecting blame subtly to a different faction.

Dionhar's eyes widened. He was playing them against one another! But just as he went to speak–!

Khhohhhhhh… Pwhhhhhrrr…

The hair on the back of his neck rose as the temperature seemed to plummet. Dionhars heart began to beat quicker, sweat breaking out on his brow.

Behind him, he heard it once more.

Khhohhhhhh… Pwhhhhhrrr…

That sound. He'd heard it only once, years ago on Coruscant. Yet, despite how much time had passed, the fear was no less real.

Khhohhhhhh… Pwhhhhhrrr…

Not a single one of them spoke, all of them standing frozen as the pressure subtly shifted higher, air suddenly a little thinner.

Then, a voice. The Moffs.

"Lord Vader, it is a pleasure to meet you. Would you like a seat?"

Dionhar's eyes darted to the side. The Moff was now standing, his face noticeably more brittle. A part of him wanted to laugh at the man and how his perfect facade was now on the verge of breaking, but he couldn't help but understand.

A behemoth stood before them, staring at the Moff and his lizard-thing. The stare lasted a little longer than was polite.

"...No."

The titan of gleaming metal looking slowly across the room, a predator gazing at the prey before it.

"I am here on the Emperor's orders to correct a disturbance in a critical part of our security."

Vader loomed now, bearing a pressure upon all their shoulders as though the vast ocean weighed down on them.

Explain. Now."

Dionhar wanted to speak. To grovel at the monster's feet and explain everything, if only to shirk the blame and escape this horrid beast alive. But his throat was closed with fear.

"L-lord Vader! I have the Hubs internal logs here! With them, we should be able to ascertain the culprit!" Bree was trying, and failing, to show any fear.

A single nod was the only response, and Bree quickly dove into his PDA, reading through the report.

"It…it seems that many of the logs from the period of the blackout, when the suspected Crimson Dawn infiltrators entered the Hub, have been tampered with extensively! But, the access logs are intact, and indicate that…"

Bree looked up from his PDA, staring directly at Dionhar. "...that the bases Master Access Key was used. Of which, only the Admiral here would've had nearby."

There were no words to describe Dionhar's emotional state. Fear, one supposes, could be the closest thing, but it was deeper than that.

Dread.

He was certain he'd covered all his tracks, erased all evidence of his wrongdoings! He'd triple checked the access logs alone!

His eyes darted across the room, throat still too dry and speak, when he glimpsed the Moff, off to the side of Vader.

For a fraction of a second, the tiniest hint of a smile graced the Moffs features. Dionhar's eyes widened.

"You–!"

–

Las
3.1 ABY
Akahista Orbit
Vigil of Starless Night
Meeting Room #3

Admiral Dionhar's corpse crumpled to the ground. Eyes still open, if facing opposite of where his head should've been pointing.

A part of me wanted to giggle at the corpse, if only because the outrage on his face combined with the way he crumpled was kind of silly.

Of course, I didn't giggle. Partially because I'm not a monster, partially because its just plain rude, but mostly because–

DARTH FUCKING VADER

–was in my ship, in front of me, breathing heavily.

"I trust you can clean up the rest?"

"Of course, Lord Vader! My agents are scouring the Hub as we speak for Crimson Dawn infiltrators. We already extracted their listening device."

As much as I didn't like interacting with the family of the old Las, Zyx certainly came in clutch. Infiltrating the Hub, planting the device, getting out, then doing it all over again just to get rid of our own device and leaving the Dawns there.

"Good."

Vader then abruptly turned and made to leave. He was blunt like that, but then again I imagine he was annoyed at being here and not trying to enslave the galaxy.

Sure, he has some more nuance than that, but I wasn't feeling particularly generous given the circumstances.

Before he left, he stopped. I swear I could hear everyone's hearts stop beating. His head turned towards me.

"This ship. I have never seen its like. I would have its type added to Death Squadron."

For a second I blinked in confusion. Darth Vader wanted and Arbiter? I thought the Imperial motif was 'make it REAL BIG then hope it works'.

Ah! I'd forgotten! He's a mechanic, right? Must like that sort of thing, but can't ask like a normal person because of Sith stuff. Makes sense, of course.

"Of course, Lord Vader. The Arbiter-class is a local invention based off of the Victory-Class hull, but focused on carrier operations. We can most certainly reserve the next hulls coming out of the yards for you."

"No. I will take your most experienced ships immediately."

Fuck. "Understood, Lord Vader. I'll have the Sector Admiral pick the ships with the most experienced crews for you." Goddamnit.

Ife was going to be so pissed. We just got our best crews to a decent level of experience and now this asthmatic was going to grab them?

"How many other 'local variants' have you produced?"

Of fuck off! He wants more!? At this point I was more angry than scared, but still more than scared enough to answer instead of telling him to go fuck himself, given he can't fuck his wife.

"Well, the Myto sector produces a variety of vessels and units locally. I can have a document sent to you if you so wish."

He just stared at me, again. I knew Mugwuffin was protecting me, or at least making my emotions a tad muffled, as though I had great internal control.

I don't. This guy is just kinda annoying. Terrifying, given he can kill me, but annoying.

"...Do so. I will requisition what I require."

"Of course, Lord Vader."

Khhohhhhhh… Pwhhhhhrrr…

The breathing was cool at first, but now he just kinda sounded like some sort of chud breathing heavily onto some porn or something. Get some cardio old man.

And with that, he actually left. Some might have described him as a wall of shadow streaking from the room. I'd call him a socially awkward widower waddling away after getting all the toys he wanted.

But with that, it was, miraculously, over.

Sure, there was some complications. Vader wanted to take one of the Whirlwinds in the hangar for a spin, and beat everyone's records.

Specifically, he flew at 191 of the maximum maneuver rating. Meaning Seventh Brother was no longer the reigning champ, and Vader now had the power to drift a starfighter in space.

A part of me feared for the future of the rebellion, for I was relying on their victory at Endor to escape.

A part of me just though the idea of Darth Vader drifting a TIE fighter in space to be really fucking cool.

–

Yo. Was gonna have Las be way more scared, then remembered this is a comedy not a drama so I changed it up.

Also watched that Vader: Episode II that came out and got all hyped. While the video itself is mostly just an alright popcorn watch, hype moments and aura are a good time in general. I think the creator is controversial? But I don't really know or care, it was as 7/10, hope they make more.

I did channel the vibe they gave Vader there a bit here, a menace, a presence, a wall. I leaned more on the shadows and stuff and the idea that in a confined space he would loom over others, this almost animalistic yet controlled thing, not quite a man anymore. Which made it all the more fun to have Las call him a chud.

Tired. The more political/economic stuff will be in the next chapter.

-Freefaller

Freefaller · Aug 3, 2026

Las
3.1 ABY
3 Days Later
Minda System

I watched out the window of the MARD as the last Acclamator-Class ship jumped to hyperspace.

It wasn't a standard Acclamator. Its internal bays had been reconfigured to house administrative staff and facilities. Extensive crew facilities, server bays, communication systems and more.

It was in effect a mobile space station. A mobile hub of coordination.

Not for me, no. I'm perfectly fine where I am now. No, this was for a project I'd been working on for a while.

See, running a sector was hard work. There were already a million things I had to manage at all times. And with my time increasingly taken by larger scale projects and out-of-sector diplomacy, I couldn't keep splitting my attention.

So, subsector hubs. Each ship would host hundreds of administrators, tax experts, and more. Their job would be to settle disputes between Governors, collect taxes, administer the tax code, and coordinate infrastructure projects.

That last part was especially important. Just creating a sector wide project wasn't enough. One had to properly implement it across all subsectors. Having these sub-capitals would help immensely.

"The fleet is already stretched thin. Are you sure of this?"

Ife was at my side for the event.

"No, but I'm running out of options. The sector is growing too quickly. If pressure isn't relieved, it'll create a myriad of problems."

And wasn't that the truth. Sure, the sector growing quickly was incredibly news. More immigrants streamed in from across the galaxy by the day. As the Empire got harsher and the civil war got hotter, people sought refuge.

If they couldn't afford the Core or safer parts of the Mid-Rim, then the Myto Sector was one of the few places in the outer rim considered nice to live in.

This came with problems.

Colonies were expanding far ahead of schedule. Cities were filling as soon as we could build them. I've started approving the purchase of pre-built space stations because there just aren't enough homes or infrastructure in many of the newly built, quickly growing colonies.'

And this was all without mentioning the larger projects. There were multiple concurrent programs in place to increase things like quality of life, medical production, industrial capacity, transit capacity, and more.

None of this was easy to manage, and while I could continue to expand my own capital administrative staff, that created far too much of a centralized location of power. It created bloat. If everything has to run through one single place all the time, that place gets slow.

And if things got slow, things started to go wrong. And that sort of stagnation compounded until it was impossible to fix.

As for why they were mobile? Well, the Governors were on average a lot cleaner now. But I still didn't trust most of them. After all, most of them were just cleaning up their acts, instead of being people I trusted from the start. If I made one system the capital of each subsector, that system would undoubtedly gain unparalleled power and prestige they could use as political weight.

"They won't be as well protected as planned. If they get targetted…" Ife's concern was real. The Acclamator-class was no slouch in combat, but it wasn't built to brawl either. Its primary escorts were mostly frigates and light cruisers, such as the Raider or Nebulon-B. Solid ships, but for such important vessels it wasn't enough.

"I know. But as things are, I can't avoid having them. For now, they'll stick near better defended systems, and only move when extra forces can be spared by system defense fleets to escort them. However, I can't delay this project. Already as the sector expands and projects become larger, we're seeing failures, delays, and compounding errors. If this continues to get worse, we could start seeing major problems."

Like smuggling, which was already finding a new niche to fill. Immigration was booming, yes, but it was easier get in if one had prior work experience in a field we were looking to expand. Medicine, for example, was at the top of our list.

But not everyone has such experience, and doesn't want to, or can't wait. So, they pay smugglers, and get smuggled in.

Sure, I could tamp down on immigration to slow things down. But that would only create a larger smuggling market. Right now, I had a fair grip on the underworld, reigning in the reasonable and eradicating those who wouldn't play ball. But if enough people got desperate to get in, smuggling would explode and a hundred new rings would pop up.

And that would create a million new problems.

"Coaxium profits have left up solidly in the green. I can release more into the naval budget for mercenary contracts and ship purchases." I replied. The Mando's weren't great at escort work, but there were countless more in the sector who did great at it.

Ife scoffed. "Trying to buy a warship right now would be near impossible. HIGHCOM is throwing everything they have at the Rebels, even if they don't want to say it." Her eyes slid from the window to my own. "Speaking of HIGHCOM, have they sent word about the Hubs replacement Admiral?
I sighed, rubbing at my temples in frustration. "All the people they'd trust with the assignment are out on other duties. And given Dionhar's treachery, that list is quite small and not budging any time soon. In the meanwhile, I've been given commanding authority over it."

"I see…" Her reply was quiet, and as I looked over at her, she seemed almost…anxious? What the hell? This wasn't the career climbing Admiral I knew?

"...Sir, I just wanted to ask–I know it's inappropriate given the chain of command and everything–"

No shot. No fucking shot. Did Ife Veers have a crush on me? This couldn't be happening. I meant that literally, this could not be happening! She was too good at her job, too vital to the sector! But still, I can't say yes, that would make things worse. Fuck, I've got to somehow reject her and get her to stick around!

"–but I just wantedtoaskifitsalrighttodateyoursister!?"

"Absolutely n–" I pause for a second. "Wait, waitwaitwait, what do you mean date my sister? Which one?"

She couldn't seem to meet my eyes, which was extraordinarily strange for her of all people. Her cheeks were a shade of red I wasn't sure was possible, much less healthy.

"S-Shal, Sir. I know she's a subordinate but she isn't under my command, and there's just this spark of sorts and it's not anything yet but I just wanted to check–"

I raise my hand, and her mouth clacks shut at an impressive speed to stop the flood of words. I sigh. "Look. You're not in the same chain of command. So long as you keep it private, stay effective, and avoid any scandals, I don't care."

Maybe it'll get Shal to stop pestering me to go out on a family rendezvous or whatever.

–

Clifcor Gabrsta
3.1 ABY
Kuat System

Clifcor sighed in relief as he sat down on the bench, the heavy zero-G suit hissing as the seals opened and he tasted the Rings air.

Still recycled, like the suits, but less so. To him, it might've well been a fresh summer day breeze.

From a storage compartment below the bench he retrieved his lunch. A nutri-pack and energy drink. He could afford more, sure, but his break was shorter now than it used to be. He didn't have the time to eat anything more.

The Ring had been working overtime for a while now. Ships were being built on tighter schedules, workers pushed harder for the same or even lesser pay.

"Hey there. How done are ya?" To his side, he saw another worker, Sernat he remembered, sitting down.

His eyes found their way to the window, beyond which sat the hulking form of a half-built star destroyer.

"About halfway. Parts shipment got delayed again."

Sernat sighed in frustration. "Same. Just got started on this Bellator when we had to stop because they only sent us half the wiring! What a mess…"

Clifcor nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's bad out there. I hear the rebels are hitting supply convoys all the time. It's why all these ships are being rushed out. For patrol duty."

"See, that's what doesn't make sense" exclaimed Sernat, waving his nutribar like a lecture stick. "If they wanted patrol ships, they'd build patrol ships. We could've pumped out three whole Raiders in the time it took us to put the Bellators frame together!"

"Well, you know how the military is," Clifcor shrugged. "They want big ships with lots of guns. Hell, just last week the future captain of the ISD we're building came by to demand we add extra guns!"

"Yeah, a total kriffing disaster. Didya hear their even pulling ships from the system defense fleet? Apparently some rebels hit Mardona and Najan-Rovi, and there aren't enough ships anywhere else."

Clifcor scoffed. "And we end up paying for it. Bet they'll toss another hundred orders of ships, tell us to make em by tomorrow, and be mad when they take months."

"Like they always do."

He nodded. "Like they always do."

–

Yo.Tired. Take this and enjoy. I will defend my literary choices when I am of sound mind once more.

–Freefaller

TheManW/oAPlan · Aug 3, 2026

You know, there has not been enough shipping in this thread. I am going to fix that, with the one true ship that has been lampshaded so hard I think I'm in a hardware store.

Omake: Las's One True Partner

After the Emperor Las Mola rose to power, the empire had a few problems. Their new emperor loved running the country. The one major problem that the Empire did have though, was succession. Despite Emperor Mola's large number of reforms and successful economic policies, there was no clear heir to the throne. Or any heir. To that end, beautiful women, men, aliens, and things in-between had all been sent (covertly and overtly) in attempt to seduce the new emperor Las Mola. Despite their (and their backers efforts), it seemed to have little effect. Mas was not distracted by a sports team, a favorite food, nor was it his pet space cat. He truly, truly, only had time for one, and one thing only in his life.

"Your imperial majesty, your subjects are worried about the line of succession,"a diplomat opened, trying to drag Las away from the one constant in his life.

"I have an armies of droids, accountants, bureaucrats, and probably over a million plus staff. Despite all of this somehow all of this personally needs to be reviewed by me. The succession can wait once the paperwork is measured in something other than cubic light-years. Now either help me review this or get out of my office" Las sourly commented, before returning to the never-ending stack. While the new emperor was much more relaxed than the old Emperor (may he reign in peace), his lack of attention to anything that was not a report of some kind was alarming.

The diplomat had been working on a Corsucant for a while, so he was not used to dealing with non-corrupt politicians. Still, he called up a tailor and a high class madam. He had no idea how or if this was possible, but he was fairly certain that this plan would get him to at least look at a woman who was not a subordinate.
****

Though some things change, the madam and tailor had a single raised eyebrow that spoke volumes. "Are we sure his majesty does not prefer gentlemen? That would actually be easier to accommodate than...this," the tailor commented, wondering why the emperor preferred this style. He also prayed that it would quickly become unpopular, but if the Emperor personally favored it,

"We've tried everything. Men, women, aliens, things inbetween, asexual species, and probably a few things I have forgotten. This is literally the only thing he pays attention to," the diplomat commented.

The madam closed her eyes and breathed out heavily. "I can believe it. None of my courtesans have gotten anywhere close to the Emperor, with or without clothes. Still, if you are confident this will work?" the madam asked clearly having skepticism as well.

"Not really. But I think it will at least grab his attention. Ordinarily I would be using a marriage to strengthen a political alliance, but honestly I am not even sure if he has a sex drive. If any of your girls get knocked up, I'll pay you double. At this point, the Empire would be happy with a bastard," the diplomat crudely commented.

***

The next Saturday, the diplomat bribed Mugwuffin with barbecue to trick the emperor into showing up into a party. The diplomat did not know why or how the cat managed to do this, but figured it was probably above his (extremely high) pay-grade. When Las showed up, he could not help but look at the girls dress. Not because of who was wearing it, not because it looked good, but because a large number of them displayed with "Reports on Imperial....". Las could not help but stare at woman all night. There were reports on production data, mining data, meta-data, taxation data and a number of other things beside. Though he did lose interest once he realized they were not actual reports.

Las x Paperwork, which is the clear canonical pairing in this fanfic

Freefaller · Aug 11, 2026

Maximillian Veers
Hoth
3.4 ABY
The snowy planet stretched before him as the General held firmly to the handrail above him, his AT-AT stomping through the howling blizzard. As it did, he considered his situation.

The assault had started off poorly already. He wasn't privy to every detail, but suffice it to say the Admiral who had made the sort of mistake Lord Vader wasn't keen on forgiving. Death Squadron had suffered for it. The rebels knew they were coming ahead of time. Multiple cruisers had been shot down as the rebels' surprisingly heavy anti-orbital weapons caught them off guard, forcing an expedited combat landing.

Which was a simply kind way of saying they would have to drop all their ground troops while under fire from heavy orbital weaponry.

He didn't complain. No one ever did. You don't complain to Darth Vader. You nod, and then you figure out how to fulfill his orders without dying miserably. It was something Veers considered himself to have become adapted to, because when you did something to survive for years on end, it became second nature. Or you became a corpse.

"General." A voice crackled through the comm unit. It was one of the scouts. "Rebel fighters inbound. The blizzard makes them unidentifiable, but there's at least a squadron."

"Understood." He replied, staring back out the viewport. "All units, prepare for contact. Maneuver for covering fire."

He had fought fighters using his AT-ATs before. It wasn't easy. The AT-AT was a weapon of ground warfare, a towering behemoth meant to crush the enemy beneath its metal feet and impressive armament. It was not meant to fire at starfighters. Their best bet was to stay grouped together to create overlapping fields of fire, and scare off the enemy fighters until friendly fighters could pick them off.

Through the sensor net, he saw just that. Those new TIE fighters Lord Vader had taken from his daughter's naval stocks ripped through the air, shooting forward into the fray.

He couldn't see what was happening, and his sensors told him only that things were happening. Veers didn't know if the TIEs would win, however, and so he maintained his order to be prepared.

The Navy had a habit of failing the Army whenever it was convenient for them, and while Vader wasn't keen on such dysfunctionality within Death Squadron, he also couldn't squash every little thing.

Yet, at the same time, a part of him wanted to trust in his daughter. She'd been the one to use these TIE's constantly, and to great effect if what the reports said were true. But that was a small part of him, the one proud of her achievements and rank, the one kept locked up.

The rest of him was disappointed she didn't join the army, angry she'd run from their family, and more complex things he wasn't in a position to properly process. He knew that he never quite was in that position. Maybe he never wanted to be.

"General!" The scout again, panic clear in his voice. "Rebel fighters split from the fight! They're inbound, signatures say they're bigger than X-Wings!"

Veers cursed under his breath even as his AT-AT's maneuvered closer together. If only he'd been allowed AA platforms on this mission. Unfortunately, rebel orbital coverage meant only a select number of transports could make it onto the planet, and Lord Vader had demanded heavy armor over all else.

He couldn't even curse the man in his mind, as much as he wanted to. Vader had an uncanny ability to know when one was thinking poorly of him, and calling him a myriad of names for interfering in Veers's operation was a bad idea, even within his own mind.

Once the fighter's signatures blipped onto the display, he gave the order.

"Fire! Spread your shots, lower energy, higher rate of fire! Fill the sky!"

It wasn't perfect. It wasn't even good. Calling it a serviceable tactic would be generous. But it was all he had at the moment.

As expected, it barely worked. A few fighters split off, scared from the massed fire. But one didn't, dodging and weaving as it pierced the snowy veil and made itself clearly seen.

As he got a proper look at it, Veers's mind vaguely recalled seeing it somewhere. A half-remembered report about some blockade in the Jubilar sector. How could a blockade runner be used here?

Then, the wings unfolded, uneven shape taking form, and Veers remembered what the thing was called. A B-Wing.

Maximilian Veers saw green, and thought of his family.

Maximilian Veers saw nothing, and thought of nothing.

–

Las
3.4 ABY
The past few months had been hectic.

Suffice it to say, the Empire didn't like talking about it. But for the first time in a long time, they weren't as certain.

Publicly, the Battle of Hoth had been a resounding success. Rebel forces routed, their base destroyed, thousands dead. It seemed a perfect victory.

But the numbers told a different story. An empire that had just won such a grand victory does not immediately triple down on war material demands. An empire that has just eradicated a major base of its enemy does not demand triple the production from its sectors in such short timeframes.

Sure, the Empire has made unreasonable demands before. But this was beyond the pale.

I didn't know exactly what happened at Hoth. All I knew was that the Empire wanted me to extract three times the amount of resources, ships, labor, and more from my sector.

I distinctly didn't want to do that.

"Sir, while I understand that the Empire requires more fuel, and I am happy to provide it, as it stands, our coaxium facilities simply aren't advanced enough yet. It will be at least another few months before we reach even half of what is being asked. And that's if we cut every safety regulation in the book, which would undoubtedly lead to workplace accidents that would drain the facilities of experienced personnel and cause further delays and costs."

"I sympathize with your problems. I really do." The Governor-General's holographic visage twisted in that way that told me he was playing a part. I don't think I'd ever met the man when he wasn't playing a part, so I'd come to understand his false moods. "But the quota must be met. Perhaps you could put prisoners to work. It's quite popular amongst other Moffs within the Oversector. I know you have your own system of doing things, and it's clearly worked out quite well for you. But if it can't adapt to this…well, my friend, I'm not sure what else I can tell you."

You could shut up and stop being such a prick, is what I wanted to say. But I didn't, because he was my superior and could order me killed.

"I understand. But I've run the numbers. Even if I were to begin using prisoner labor immediately, it would still take nearly six months to build facilities up to what you want. It would be cheaper, in fact, to augment other facilities. More ship-building capacity is available in my sector now more than ever."

The Governor-General gave an almost theatrical sigh. If this was the quality of acting he'd been using with all his fancy friends in the Mid-Rim, then they must either be very foolish to fall for it, or they humored him. I imagined it was a mixture of both, given what I knew about rich people.

"And yet it is not ships the Empire is asking for. At least not from you–I mean us."

Nice save there, dipshit.

"The Empire has more ships being built across the galaxy than ever before. Our Oversector has been producing more than ever. From you it demands only fuel and weapons. And you, my friend, have one of the only coaxium deposits in the Oversector. However you do it, know that it is expected of you to find ways of improving your output. If you yourself cannot find a method of doing so, I will find someone who can."

The call ended not long after, and I sat in the silence of my office.

Not even Mugwuffin was there, as she normally was. She was off hunting mouse droids again, or trying to coerce stormtroopers around the facility into giving her snacks.

I was stuck with this conundrum. As it stood, there simply wasn't enough crime in the sector to allow for the increase in prisoners that would be required to increase production. Not to mention, I hadn't lied when I said I wouldn't trust prisoners with such a valuable resource. A particularly savvy pirate group might strategically plant moles within the workforce to organize convoy robberies.

There was also the morale problem. I didn't want rebels. Rebels had proven time and again that they were very capable at killing people, and I didn't particularly want to be killed. I wanted to live a long, peaceful life, which was not possible if I became the kind of target worth striking. So I had to keep people happy, because a sector full of happy people is a sector in which the rebels have a very hard time gaining recruits, access, and support.

If I knew one thing about the rebels, it was that no matter their recent victories, they were an inherently logical organization. They would not attempt to foment rebellion in a sector where they were not confident of gaining popular support. So long as I kept people happy and treated them well, I got to live.

And now my direct superior was telling me to imprison as many people as possible in order to expand production.

I couldn't tell him no. Not outright, not truly, because that wasn't very Imperial of me. And while I was certain he wouldn't move against me immediately, if I proved unfriendly to his wishes, I had no doubt he would eventually use his position to get rid of me and install someone more agreeable. Which would very likely end with me in either prison or dead.

I quite liked being alive.

So I had to toe the line, which meant I had to find a way to increase production without increasing the amount of forced labor. A difficult prospect, all things considered. Not impossible, but expensive.

The only question was what I would be willing or able to give up in order to succeed.

I couldn't pull money from the military. Lord Vader had taken nearly a dozen Arbiters and twice that in the new Dreadnought-class, not to mention two whole wings of starfighters. Thankfully, the only thing he hadn't grabbed was land-based attack craft, which would've made things significantly worse. But as it stood, it would take time and money to bring the sector's naval forces back up to strength. With trade being the absolute lifeblood of the sector's economy, I couldn't afford to let up on trade security.

So I'd have to find the money elsewhere. And money took time to move. I couldn't will it out of thin air. Not to mention it took time for factories, mining settlements, and refineries to be built. And clearly the Empire wasn't in the mood to entertain ideas of logistical reality.

Somehow, I had to find the money and magic up the resources to more than triple current production. As fast as possible.

–

Yo. Wanted to do a Jir section but shit man its getting hard to write her, gonna have to give it more time in the oven.

Other than that, I'm fairly proud of this section even if it isn't my best work. I didn't go into too much detail regarding Hoth since given its entire thing is to showcase how much better prepared the Rebels are, it only needs to showcase the set up and Veers's death. I could've gone into more detail for a variety of things, but didn't want to bloat the chapter.

As for Las's section, its that classic exposition. I figured I'd end it without him having a solution, because I feel like a lot of these problems end up having a solution within the same chapter and then the next few are just about how that solution is implemented, and I don't really want that for this. Gonna make Las sweat for something, the lazy bastard.

Didn't bake anything super recently, haven't had the time, transferring colleges is really stressful on account of my chronic procrastination. But I did make some chicken and waffles.

Admittedly the waffles were eggos frozen waffles and the chicken was some thighs I tossed in some premade spice combos and tossed in a pan until they were alright. But shit, now I get it. Chicken and waffles fucking slaps.

-Freefaller

Freefaller · Aug 20, 2026

Chp-123

Ril Baagoss
Hoth
3.4 ABY

The thrum of his X-Wings engines did little to calm Ril's nerves. Even as he was surrounded by his squadron, even as the sound of the anit-orbital cannons rang through the tundra, even as he knew that the evacuation was proceeding on time, his hands still shook.

Not much. Just a little. Certainly a noticeable improvement from when he'd started some 5 odd years ago.

Out in the white of the blizzard, he saw little. Only his sensors and the pre-mission briefing told him what was near.

Behind him, B-Wings. A new model of ship, some of the first to be made apparently. He'd heard the techs complaining about maintenance all month, so clearly they weren't exactly fit for mass production.

Not that the Alliance could mass-produce much of anything.

Ahead of him was the enemy force. AT-AT's were the main target, hulking war machines with more armor and firepower than any land-based vehicles they had on hand. That's what the B-Wings were for.

His job was to keep the TIE's off the B-Wings. Easy. He'd blown up dozens of TIE's. They were practically made of flimsy.

The thought didn't stop his hands from shaking.

"Enemy TIE fighters inbound. Shell-Squadron, keep them off our bombers!"

But just the same, shaking hands or not, he had a job to do. Pushing the throttle forward, he advanced towards the enemy.

Soon, the first TIE was within visual range, ripping out of the blizzard with its characteristic speed directly ahead of him. Within a second, he fired a burst and pivoted out of the way.

Yet, he heard no explosion. His targeting computer confirmed a hit, but was still tracking the fighter.

A second later, someone else answered his question.

"They've got shields!" The message was quickly followed by the telltale explosion of a fighter. Ril barely paid attention to the following confirmation of a downed friendly as he turned hard.

His turn landed him on the tail of a different TIE. The previous one was still on him, but he had at least a second and a half. So, he held down the trigger this time, letting a veritable stream of red streak forward.

Instantly he recognized the blue shimmer that appeared around the impact points, crackling as the shield tried its best to hold out. But after the sixth landed shot it gave out, and the seventh and eighth ripped the TIE to shreds.

But he'd taken too long. Just as he started his own evasive turn, the other TIE caught him, green death splashing his rearward shields. Still, he managed his turn, dumping more power to engines in order to lose the TIE in the storm.

Across the battlefield, the same dance played out. His squadmates were surprised at first. Shields on a TIE fighter? Since when has the Empire ever spent more than a half-credit on TIE's?

Some paid for this surprise. Two down already. Ril didn't remember their names, but Shell-squadron was new. Pulled together from a dozen near-dead squadrons from across the region.

It was a consequence of their cockiness, to be honest. Resources had started to become less scarce. Success after success had emboldened a not-insignificant number of cell leaders. Now, they were down a half dozen major cells because of foolish mistakes.

Had the Mid-Rim not taught them anything?

Ril supposed it didn't matter to him. At least, not at the moment. He could ruminate on politics later. Right now, he had a job to do.

It took nearly twenty minutes to clean up the enemy TIE's. Twenty minutes was a long time for an engagement of this scale.

Shell wasn't the only squadron there, of course. Across the valley multiple squadrons clashed with TIE's while B-Wings and other bombers made their way towards their targets. But twenty minutes?

Sure, Shell wasn't Rogue Squadron, but that was absurd.

However, even with their victories in the skies, the situation on the ground only worsened.

Their anti-orbital weaponry could only slow the Imperial advance, not stop it. In the distance, through the rare gaps in the blizzard's wall of ice, he spotted Imperial dropships disgorging more and more forces. Not just AT-AT's, but more. Tanks, repulsor-craft, infantry carriers.

All protected by a thick black swarm of TIE fighters. Even if they weren't shielded, it would be a bloody fight. One Ril knew the Alliance couldn't afford at that point.

Over the comms, he was informed of the next phase of their plan.

"The base is nearly evacuated! All squadrons, reposition and escort our evacuation ships off-world!"

From there, Shell squadron ripped around, pivoting back towards the base. A cursory look at the base revealed the extent of their situation.

Every hangar wide open, empty of anything of importance. Even now as the final freighters left, people were dragging any technology and weapons they could carry with them. Someone even grabbed what looked to be the caf machine.

Ril wasn't sure why'd they do that. The caf it made was awful.

Upon reaching the base, they were directed upwards, towards the evacuating ships already in movement.

The familiar sight of GR-75's and other similar freighters appeared before him, racing away on modified engines.

"Enemy TIE's incoming! Shell squadron, defend transports 5 and 8!"

Again Shell squadron pivoted, forming up on an intercept towards the incoming TIE fighters. The fighters up ahead looked strange, and it put him on edge. First shielded TIE's and now a new type all together?

Instinctively, he redirected some power towards shields.

As they engaged, he lined up a shot with the first fighters. But as he pulled the trigger and watched the shots streak out into the void, the TIE did something new. It twisted.

Its engines quite literally twisted, sending it into a downwards spin. He turned to follow, lining up a second shot as he flew in behind it.

That was when it twisted again. But not the engines this time. No, this time, it was the cannons.

Suddenly, his ship was rocked with laser fire, shields falling, and he pulled up, pushing his engines to the max to avoid the enemy fire.

That was when the warning came over comms.

"All units! We've identified the enemy TIE's as Whirlwinds! Intel labels them threat level BLACK! GET OUT OF THERE!"

Shit. That was bad. Ril wanted to run. He knew it wasn't the right thing to do, but by the Force he wanted to run.

Duros such as himself had, under their ribs, two small sacs. When stressed, they filled with acid. And right now, Ril's gut was near bursting. He wanted nothing more than to activate his hyperdrive and get out.

Instead, as he heard his fellow rebels die over comms, he knew he couldn't. Whipping back around, redirecting what little shield power remained to thrusters, he flew back into the frey.

Ahead of him was another Whirlwind, tailing a friendly. Its side was to him, gun turrets blocked by its wings.

He held down the trigger, watching with glee as the shots connected, enemy shield rippling blue.

Then the wings folded down, and the turret aimed at him.

Ril Baagoss saw green, and thought of retirement.

Ril Baagoss saw green, and thought of nothing.

–

Las
3.5 ABY

A gentle turn of the controls smoothly tilted the ship to the left, deftly avoiding the asteroid.

"This is an insulting speed. I demand we race forward."

"No."

I ignored Myr'thos's continued rants about how it was 'uncouth to move so slowly' and focused on navigating the asteroid field.

I was once again back in my executive shuttle, my personal ship. I loved it dearly, and had learned the basics of flight back in my days as Governor.

Recently, I'd picked it back up again. This time, however, it wasn't for leisure.

See, I'd been plotting, planning, scheming. On how to fake my death.

Well, the deaths of myself, Mugwuffin and Myr'thos.

The plan itself was fairly smart, if I do say so myself.

I decided to start flying my ship through the field, with escorts nearby of course, under the excuse of 'leisure' rides. I would continue to do this with decent amounts of regularity, in order for it to become routine.

In the meantime, using Myr'thos as a proxy, I would purchase and have hidden a ship, a highly modified light freighter, within the asteroid field.

It was unfortunate that my previous one was to be left forgotten down on Minda, but it was simply the way of things.

One day, not long after the destruction of the death star, maybe a month or two to really let the chaos ramp up, I'd take a ride in the asteroid field.

And then my ship would explode. Myr'thos, Mugwuffin and I would eject beforehand, of course, but the ship would explode quite violently. Then, using our spacesuits and boost-packs, we'd make our way over to the ship and quietly leave before anyone could get there.

Of course, this hinged on me ditching my escorts so they weren't around to see my freighter running away. That's where Myr'thos would come in.

"You have no tact! I am an esteemed individual of high standing. The least your craven self could do to accommodate me is increase the speed of this blasted vessel."

"If you want to go so fast, why don't you get your own ship? I prefer the slow and steady pace."

They scoffed. "If 'slow and steady' is your preferred pace, it is no wonder you remain alone. The sector's line of succession is in dire straits it seems."

Now it was my turn to scoff. "First of all, my position is not hereditary. Second of all, my romantic life is perfectly healthy and I will tolerate no accusations towards the opposite."

"I spend much of my waking life at your side, and so I know full well that not a single consort, concubine, or whore of any species or gender has graced your bed."

"Well–"

"Your hand doesn't count."

"...my imagination is a potent thing."

A laugh broke out over the comms before quickly being smothered, and I felt a bloom of satisfaction.

See, I'd kept my escorts on open comms 'just in case' something happened. By making jokes and having Myr'thos complain about the speed on the regular, I could ensure an alibi of sorts.

On the day of my plan, I would 'give in' to their demands and speed up significantly. My shuttle was decked out to hell and back, and could easily outspeed my escorts.

This would allow me to get to my freighter. And when questioned as to why I would suddenly do this, my escorts would remark on the fact that Myr'thos and I had this same argument every time.

It was a perfect plan. Honestly, it was my only plan right now. Everything else I was planning for was far more complex.

That damned quota was going to be the death of me. I was trying everything I could, but it wasn't enough.

All my usual plans weren't enough. I was used to moving around existing things. I was used to having time. I was used to not being the center of attention.

Now I was the only coaxium producer this side of the Oversector, and the pressure was on. The industry couldn't scale fast enough without accepting unneeded deaths. Which would reflect poorly on myself.

I was considering less legal methods. Moving empty shipments, having outbound shipments 'raided', etc… but none of that could work on a large enough scale without far too much risk. At best it would help me stall things out.

Not to mention the blowback that was inevitable no matter what I did. Production was being pumped across the sector for just about any and all things military or military-related. People were going to be working harder hours for longer, and I couldn't spare the money needed to pay them a proper extra compensation. Only enough to keep people in the black.

Automation was too expensive as an alternative, and people would resent losing their jobs. Not to mention anti-CIS sentiment was high in the region. Especially after the Hand prominently used droids in their terror attacks.

So I needed to pump production sector wide, alongside meeting an impossible coaxium quota, and keep the people from jumping me.

I had no idea what to do, and to avoid thinking about it for a little bit, I decided to switch to a different problem. The Navy.

So, I called Ife.

The first thing I noticed as her holo sprang up was that she looked haggard. The holo on my ship was of high quality, none of that awful glitching or pixelated fuzziness. Meaning I could see the bags under her eyes, the tenseness in her shoulders.

Was the job getting to her?

"Good evening, Admiral. I'm calling for a rundown of your naval situation. Have the mercenaries acquitted themselves well?"

The Guild couldn't solve my coaxium problem, but it could help patch the gaping hole left by Darth Vader's little spree of greed. Mercenaries and Guild vessels were now helping take hold of some of the Navies duties, interspersed among regular patrols to stretch our forces farther.

"They've managed. While not quite as professional as I'd hoped, the mercenaries have proven competent and capable in lower roles. However, they aren't enough to return back to our previous state." Responded Ife.

"I see. That's as good as it's going to get for now. Our production capacity is being diverted towards exports, so I can only get you an Arbiter a month right now."

She sighed, and it was a deep thing. Her shoulders seemed to almost fall slack before they launched back up into position as though they had almost fallen asleep and were now trying to stay awake.

Clearly, something was getting to her. What could it–oh shit.

I'd forgotten about Hoth.

"Admiral. I want you back on Minda for an evaluation."

Her eyes widened in shock, fear clear within. "Sir, I'm not–"

"You're not getting demoted. You are getting a break, however. It's clear to me you aren't in the best mental space at the moment."

"Respectfully, sir, I'm–"

"--going to come to Minda, speak with a mental health counselor, and take a week off with your girlfriend. I will not have my top naval officer buried under the current workload in such a state."

She had some fight left in her, that much was clear, but it fled the moment I mentioned time off with her girlfriend.

HAVEN kept tabs on her and Shal, given their respective positions and Ife's importance to the sector, and by all accounts they didn't get much time together. I was practically dangling a juicy steak in front of her.

"...understood, sir."

"Oh stop moping Ife, you'll be fine. Just remember to speak honestly about your feelings, and use protection!"

Her cheeks darkened, and her mouth opened in shock, and I cut the call on the spot. Funnier that way.

Though…speaking honestly. Now that could work…

–

Hallo. Been binging Vintage Story after the absolute peak that is Torched by RubixRaptor ended. Shits addicting man. Love getting gored by 10,000 Drifters.

As promised, here is the Rebel POV of the battle. Not my best but I figure it gets the point across. The Rebels got more stuff out of Hoth, the Empire still kicked their shit in, and some poor fucker got slimed by a Whirlwind doing its shenanigans.

-Freefaller

Freefaller · Aug 29, 2026

Brior Ouga
Maximus 3-A
Maximus System
3.6 ABY
Brior stumbled through the door of his family's hab-unit, sighing in relief at the cool air that washed over him.

A smile soon formed as his son rushed from deeper within the hab.

"Hey there little Mynock!" he greeted, sweeping the babbling toddler up in his arms. "How was your day?"

His response was half-formed words and plenty of spit flying every which way.

"I see, I see..." Brio nodded seriously, turning towards the living room to see his wife standing there, smile radiant. Trila was a twi'lek, lean and muscled from a life lived working in dockyards and construction zones.

"Our son has quite a lot to say, Trila. Apparently customer service has been subpar."

Her smile was stunning, sending through him a surge of energy.

"Well, the customer has been quite cranky, you see. He's been disturbing the staff all day."

She reached out a hand, lightly pinching one of their son's cheeks, still plump and blubbery with youth.

An equally plump hand swatted hers away, an almost insulted look crossing his young face.

"It seems our dear customer is in need of a nap." Briar responded, handing him off to Trila.

As she put their son to sleep, Brio bruised himself with removing his work gear. A cubby in the laundry room of the hab held Trila's gear as well as his own. It was clean, if small, much like the rest of the hab.

Standardized fare, these habs. Pre-built, simple, provided by the colony. Once expansion became viable they would be torn down in favor of proper apartments and housing. While the colony promised to give all current colonists new homes, he was confident they'd be able to afford a better place in a few years time.

Brior, alongside Trila, worked at the local tibbana gas refinery, while they lived planetside on the gas giant's third moon. Maximus 3-A. A good name, even if the original name of the system had been Gluteus Maximus. The Survey Corp had a lot of jokesters who took great pleasure in getting to name systems they discovered. Thankfully the administration cut it down to just Maximus.

The work was dependable and well paying, even if the security measures could be a bit of a pain. It was understandable though, given the military used the gas extensively.

Moving to the kitchen, he picked up a plate of reheated food Trila had left him, and considered himself incredibly fortunate.

From poverty on Ord Mantel to a good job and great living standards on a brand new colony was an incredible leap.

When his son was born, he feared he and Trila might lose their jobs, given both of them worked. But instead, they were given parental leave. Both of them.

Who'd ever heard of such a thing!?

Now, they took shifts in turn so one of them could always be home with their son. Soon, he'd be old enough for the colony daycare.

And that was another thing. A daycare!

On Ord Mantel, where the lines between gangs and government were blurry at best, a daycare sounded like an obvious slaver front. Not that many bothered with fronts out there.

Briar and Trila had been skeptical at first, but time had proven them wrong.

Taking a seat at the kitchen table, he placed his PDA before him while he began to pick at his meal.

An unappealing nutri-bar was first, standard fare for colonists. The colony wasn't quite self-sufficient in terms of farming just yet, and so imported these to ensure people were properly fed.

Next to it was a sandwich, shak meat topped with a local berry sauce between two slices of bread from that new bakery in town. Apparently the moon held some pretty interesting grains, turning the bread a dark orange with purple swirls.

Finally, a small treat. A little chocolate bar. Sweets weren't so common on the colony, given they were all imports. But families tended to buy them in small amounts, and the colonial administration handed them out during annual festivals to celebrate growth.

On his PDA, he flipped through various screens before settling on an instructional video he'd started watching during his lunch break. It was a Guild video covering various classes and educational programs they offered. Specifically in regards to trades such as his own.

He hoped to take advantage of the Guild's subsidized classes for new colonists. If he could get a promotion or two, it would be great. Trila had always wanted to open a mechanics workshop, after all.

As he ate, a soft weight pressed on his back, two blue-green muscled arms snaking around his neck.

They didn't speak, simply sinking into one another's presence.

A few minutes in, Brior opened his mouth to speak, when an alert from his PDA distracted him.

[SECTOR-BROADCAST]

Briar and Trila shared a concerned look. The only time they'd seen such a broadcast was during the holonet outage.

Trila sat in the chair beside him while Brior opened the broadcast.

The screen flickered, a telltale sign of a holonet live-feed being established, before it stabilized into a clear image.

A podium sat on a raised platform, lights illuminating the area in contrast to the darkening sky behind it.

Looming above the platform stood a tall, sharp tower. Its drab grey was draped in Imperial white and Guild gold, long banners fluttering softly in the wind.

Between the platform and tower stood a dozen pillars, each a dozen meters tall. They glowed softly with light, emanating from the miniscule writing on each.

It was this detail that told Brior where the broadcast was coming from.

Minda. He'd heard about it from a friend who visited on vacation. Each pillar was a memorial, holding the names of those who died in defense of the sector.

At the podium stood a figure. The Moff.

He'd clearly seen better days. Dark rings hung under his eyes, and his shoulders were slumped ever so slightly. His hair was messy, clearly unkempt over at least the past few days. Even his uniform was rumpled, if only a tad.

The Moff raised a steaming mug of something to his lips, taking a long sip before setting it down.

"People of the Myto Sector," he started, eyes scanning the crowd. "I come to you with unfortunate news."

"I have been informed by my superiors that, as a consequence of increasing desires for security from the greater Empire, all material and security-related quotas must be tripled."

A gasp could be heard rushing through the crowd. Briar and Trila's hands found each other's as they watched with growing anxiety. Nothing good ever came of the Empire's demands for more.

"Thankfully, our hearty workers and robust economy means many of these quotas can be met with little to no expansion."

The Moff paused for another sip of his drink. "However, this will cut a deep gash into the sector government's funds. As a consequence, we will have a harder time restoring the navy to its former strength."

"This will create openings for pirates once more, which in turn would put our citizens at risk and slow trade at such a stressful time."

Here, the Moff stared directly into the camera. Eyes narrowed, serious, his large scar illuminated clearly.

"As such, I make a request of the citizens of this sector. The Sector Government will be creating a Mytoan-Bond. I implore those who have the money to spare to purchase these bonds so as to fund the protection of your fellow citizens."

He bowed. Not a deep bow, nothing subservient, barely noticeable — but his head dipped at least 15 degrees, his shoulders hunching a little as he did so.

"Thank you for any and all support you send," he said to the crowd.

It was a different kind of shocking.

While Brior had only been in the sector for a little while — a few years at most — he'd come to know of their leader's eccentricities. Not the maddening kind, nor the kind where they did strange, unpredictable things. No, the Moff of the Myto Sector was a bureaucrat, and he was a bureaucrat in a way no other Imperial officer he'd ever met was.

He simply did his job.

Apparently there was a name for this. The Mola-Shock — for immigrants arriving and being utterly baffled that the leader of their sector simply did his job.

He was not a particularly charismatic individual, nor did he portray an image of unparalleled strength. By all accounts he seemed like a normal person, which was exactly what was strange about it.

Imperial leaders tended to be corrupt, cruel, or completely mad. Often some combination of the three. It was an oversimplification, but it was a trend found in the higher echelons that all who watched a few broadcasts learned quite quickly.

Even then, Brior wasn't sure anyone ever expected the Moff to give anything resembling a bow towards his people.

It made him wonder sometimes if he wasn't in some sort of wonderland, a dream of some kind, and that at any moment he could wake up back on Ord Mantel, back in the slums, back in poverty and despair.

The broadcast continued from there into interviews. Reporters came up and asked questions of the Moff. Many were variations of the same few questions. How much will taxes be increased, if at all? How will this affect the economy? How will this affect the military? Will this delay one infrastructure project or another?

The Moff answered each and every one.

"Taxs will rise only on certain products and industries that can afford the extra expenses. The average citizen will not be overly affected, though you may want to cut back on imported luxuries for the meanwhile."

"This will strain the economy. While we are working hard to minimize the damage and ensure life continues as it did previously, there will be negative effects. You can expect travel and the general cost of living to rise as trade slows down. I encourage all to seek solidarity and help with your local communities. Pool resources, help one another, and cut down on living expenses."

"Major infrastructure projects will be put on hold for now. These include our hyperspace beacon network project and our logistics station network project, among others. We hope to resume these projects once things settle down."

"I am also in negotiation with neighboring sectors for mutual assistance agreements. As we have an excess of resources in some needed sectors, we plan to trade those for military reinforcements and other forms of assistance. These negotiations are still ongoing, and as such I can't promise success, but rest assured we are doing everything in our power."

"To expand on the bonds, we are looking for outside creditors, so as to not place the entire burden on the people. The Muun Banking Clans have agreed to purchase bonds, and others are in consideration. Bonds will be set at an interest rate of 6.5%, due to the current security crisis. Once its over, that will drop down to 3%."

The Banking Clans. Brior wasn't so sure about them.

He banked locally, of course — a credit union that had sprung up on the colony, Guild-backed. But he had friends with investment portfolios through those banks, and they spoke highly of their professionalism.

Brior wasn't so sure. The closest thing to real banks back on Ord Mantel that would ever serve someone of his social status had been loan sharks with a few fancy pieces of paper that made them a bank. So perhaps it was his prejudice against large institutions speaking.

Regardless, he wasn't sure what the banks wanted out of the sector. But if nothing else, he trusted that the Moff knew what he was doing.

Eventually the broadcast ended with the Moff reiterating his call for all those who could, to purchase bonds for the security of the sector. A set of instructions appeared on the broadcast screen, showcasing how and where to go to purchase them.

Once the broadcast was over, the two of them sat there for a minute, staring at the blank screen and the reflection in it.

Eventually they turned to each other and nodded at once.

They had some cash to spare. And the mechanic shop could wait.

Their sector needed them.

–
Las

Within the space station I called home sat a room. Said room held a circular table, though circular wasn't quite the right word for it — it was too angular, built with sharp edges and dull colors like everything else the Empire built.

There was only one seat, my own. But as I sat down, projectors around the table flared to life, and three holographic projections appeared before me. They were Moff Moew, Moff Callron, and Moff Delninian — the rulers of three neighboring sectors, and the only ones who had agreed to meet at all.

I was surprised to see that Moff Callron had joined at all. He was a capricious man, very much unlike his now-deceased father, whom I had met briefly earlier in my career. His response to the holonet crisis had been rude, to put it one way.

Moff Moew was a different case. She was shrewd in her dealings. Her sector was not the richest nor the most powerful, but it was not poor or weak by any stretch of the imagination. She was, however, the kind of person to ensure that every deal made was as beneficial to her as possible, regardless of the consequences for everyone else. There's a reason I didn't take her deal during the crisis, after all.

The final person was Moff Delninian of the Braxant Sector. He was perhaps the only one I might call anything close to an ally, given how closely our two Guilds worked. Our economies weren't entirely intertwined — that felt like an easy trap to fall into, the security such a thing promised being quite tantalizing.

However, the downsides of integrating such large economies so quickly would be incredibly dangerous and foolish to ignore. Still, our two economies did grow closer slowly over time, strengthening one another. So it was him I would likely be counting on as the only person in the room — well, not actually in the room, of course — who would be willing to act in my interests, if only because our interests were so economically aligned.

"You called us here for a meeting," said Callron. "I don't have all day."

He was brisk and rude as always, his mustachioed face twitching in annoyance. Not for the last time, I dearly wished his father was still alive and in control. He had been a much more reasonable individual.

Moff Moew gave a light, dainty laugh, and I almost wanted to applaud her. It was the most real-sounding fake laugh I had heard in a while. She must have been taking lessons — it was certainly an improvement over the last time I'd heard her attempt one.

"Why, my dear Tyron, no need for hostilities." She turned to address the room at large. "I called us here together to address the shared concerns we all have. The demands of the Empire as of late have been quite strenuous. I believed it would be beneficial for us to come together and assist one another in our respective times of need."

This was a surprising move from her. It had been one I myself was considering — after all, we all needed things, and we might have things the others needed. If she was the one making this proposal, she must have been in more trouble than I thought, though I wasn't sure of the nature of it. I would have to do some research on her sector to understand what exactly was being demanded of her.

It must have been serious. Or this meeting was a trap.

Still, this was a good thing. It saved me the effort and political capital of proposing it myself. Political capital wasn't something I was immensely interested in keeping, but it had a way of coming back to haunt me when I lacked it.

"So you finally show your weakness," replied Callron.

"And yours," she replied. "I know your sector is severely lacking in the kind of production the Empire demands — just as we all are in our own ways. Yet we each excel in others."

She didn't look at me when she said that. But I knew what she was talking about. While I may not have kept tabs on exact production numbers across the sector, I did know that my sector outpaced its neighbors by quite a lot. This so-called alliance could very easily be a ruse to gain access to my resource wealth while giving relatively little in return. I couldn't have that.

"I see," said Delinean. "I too have been having some problems with these production numbers. I don't even have the factories for some of the things being asked of me."

Tyron looked like he wanted to object, but it was clear to everyone he had no basis to stand on. His sector, while having an older and more entrenched administration and a larger population than average, was not rich enough to project the strength he clearly wished for. Finally, he ground out the word "fine," and we moved on.

The negotiations were tense. No one quite wanted to admit what they were lacking in — or at least, Moff Moew and Moff Callron were not so keen. Moff Delninian and I were more open about it.

I suppose it comes with being well-adjusted individuals.

Still, the negotiations took multiple days. Between meetings, I fielded individual calls from Delinian and Moew, each offering their own individual deals. Callron made no such attempt, not that I expected one.

By the third day, we had something resembling an agreement.

Callron would provide excess medical production to Delinian in exchange for weapons production. Moew would provide Callron with excess mineral extraction in exchange for excess agricultural products.

I would provide everyone with excess tibanna gas and TIE fighters, in exchange for spare patrol vessels which I sorely needed.

The four of us sat there, on that third day, each of us looking something akin to being satisfied with our dealings. Well, three of us, Callron perpetually had the look of someone who'd just smelt a fart.

Of course, it was during this relatively peaceful time that all four of us had aides whisper breaking news into our ears. How they did it at the same exact time, I'm not entirely sure. I suspect they were colluding to be as theatrical as possible.

Still, we looked at one another in unison, understanding blooming across our faces. Production quotas would be rising once more.

Kuat had just been attacked.

–

Yo. more stuff. The first section is there to show the life of the average Mytoan immigrant. Most move in because of the promise of the new colonies. To them, they owe the sector everything, and are more than willing to buy a shit ton of bonds.

Second segment is a little weaker, but does what it needs to do. Gets negotiations going to showcase how Las is getting around things, and touches on Ringbreaker.

Didn't bake anything this time, spent all my time playing Stalker and now Zero Company. And also college. Gonna be there a lot more with 5 classes so some updates might be slower/shorter.

-Freefaller

Freefaller · Sep 14, 2026

Chp-125

Las
3.7 ABY

I watched the footage on the screen before me, replayed for the third time.

For the third time, I watched the rings of Kuat burn.

Not literally. There weren't that many fires, nor did the entire ring get hit.

But the footage made certain facts clear.

The Kuati Rings had been hit by a Rebel hit-and-run attack. A combination of coordinated mass fighter strikes, alongside GR-75's converted to carry mass torpedo launchers, had done no small amount of damage.

On the screen, the footage zoomed, showing those freighters open the 'cargo' pods on their underbellies and unleash a veritable swarm of torpedoes. Not a single ship got more than two volleys off before being ripped to pieces by Imperial fire, but I suspected they weren't meant to hold more than that. They likely weren't meant to survive. By reversing the footage and zooming in on the freighters, one could see how the underbellies glowed with heat. The volleys were fired too quickly, likely modified to bypass security limits.

Following the missile's trajectory, the camera zooms out to show the true enormity of the impact.

The torpedoes slam into the ring, arcs of blue energy zipping from the impact points, doubtlessly frying countless subsystems and disabling defenses. As the localized shields went down, the follow up torpedoes plunged into the structures, turning turrets and TIE hangars to scrap.

This wasn't targeting the whole ring, of course. That would be an immense operation. This attack was targeted.

Kuat Drive Yards iconic ring wasn't made up of berths from tip to tail, no. While their dockyards were massive, the vast majority of the ring was dedicated to other facilities.

Security centers, residential and commercial space, etc… Many people lived on the ring itself, with entire sections acting like miniature cities. In fact, there was a fairly famous propaganda show following a Kuati Imperial security officer in one of those cities.

6/10 show, the main character was fairly bland and the story predictable. The action was pretty good though.

One of the most important parts of the ring itself, even more important than the dockyards, were the logistics.

The machine shops. The warehouses. The factories. Contrary to popular belief, the number of berths on the ring wasn't the sole reason for KDY's success. It was the logistics. By producing so much of their own materials on the ring itself, KDY cut down on costs and construction times more than any other comparable competitor could.

And it was these that the rebels were targeting. Seconds after the freighters were slagged, fighters jumped in.

The next minute of the video was dedicated to their exploits, the camera diligently and elegantly following various fighters as they made bombing rungs, targeted factories, and intercepted enemy TIE fighters.

Eventually, the video ended with raging fires and a big message stamped onto the screen.

JOIN THE REBELLION! FIGHT THE EMPIRE! FREE THE GALAXY!

This video had been circulating the galaxy in the month that followed the attack. Despite the Empire's best efforts, it had become quite prominent.

If nothing else, it was an excellent propaganda piece. I had watched it with the sound off, but a triumphant musical score had played in the background. The video was also quite carefully shot so as to avoid lingering on any vision of destruction for too long, or showcase the deaths of any rebel pilots.

I had a feeling a good chunk of those pilots didn't make it out of there alive.

The second video was also another propaganda piece.

Unlike the Kuat strike, this one was an edit of multiple news sources, with music playing in the background. Something not unlike videos I remember from my previous life, the kind found on social media sites.

It was quick paced, cutting from different scenes of protestors, rebel soldiers, and burning Imperial flags.

All throughout, it showed the names of different planets.

Each of those planets was a planet in full open rebellion.

At least, they were.

The attack on Kuat and the subsequent propaganda had been a huge galvanizing factor for the Rebellion. A smart move, if nothing else. By targeting expensive and hard-to-replace factories and machines, it created a bottleneck and would serve to slow down KDY's production.

At the same time, by striking one of the most important military targets in the galaxy, the Rebels showed they were not to be underestimated. It was the single biggest hit since Yavin, after all.

What that seems to have done, however, is galvanize people. Three sectors down in the south-eastern Outer-Rim saw massive rebellions. Admittedly those sectors had always been very rebellious, but this was at an unheard level.

Especially since it wasn't the Alliances doing. From what Darna and Thorne were able to scrounge up on the down-low, these were local cells and units. The kinds that were fighting for the freedom of their sectors over any Republican resurgence.

Over the course of a few weeks they caused untold havoc. Cities were taken, ships were destroyed, it was chaos.

It didn't last, of course. The Empire brought the full weight of its might down onto the sector. Ardus Kaine and his Scourge Squadron soon appeared, and spared no mercy.

The Reaper alone glassed a dozen cities. Some 20 million or so died, per Imperial estimations. Non-Imperial estimations doubled that, at a minimum.

It wasn't over, not yet. Even after a month of fighting things hadn't ended. But to say it was a true war would be a lie. It was no Mimban, after all.

There were no trenchlines or artillery. No mass coordinated military actions. It was a full purge. Stormtroopers going door to door, shooting any they found suspicious. Disparate rebel cells pulling out all the stops and bombing whatever they could before getting gunned down.

The rebels weren't 'fighting back' as much as they were getting slaughtered.

It was a horrific slaughter. It was a show of pure Imperial might.

And to those who saw the greater picture, it was a show of weakness.

If the Empire was half as competent as it claimed to be, these rebels would've never had the chance to start this. It wouldn't have taken the glassing of cities to stop them.

If the Empire was as secure as it claimed to be, it wouldn't have increased the quotas again. This time for war material.

Looking up from the video, I assessed the two before me. Darna and Thorne.

They were sitting patiently, though given the subtle stink eye they were both giving one another, their relationship hadn't improved since I'd last spoken with the two.

Regardless, I trusted their professionalism if nothing else.

"These quotas are out of control. As it stands, chances are more likely of rebellion breaking out than any actual work getting done. Something needs to be done to obfuscate this reality, at least for the short term. Options?"

"I've got–

"Through reports–"

They turned on each other, each glaring at the interruption.

"What I was trying–"

"Before I was–"

Again, they glared. For a second I thought they were going to go again, but they didn't. Instead, they played a round of rock-paper-scissors.

Not really rock-paper-scissors, but some local game of the same kind.

They tied nearly dozens of times in a row, playing so fast that at one point their hands were blurs that my eyes didn't even bother tracking.

Thorne came out on top, and he sported the smuggest look I've ever seen on him. Which for Thorne meant he had the tiniest smile and his spine was a tad straighter than usual. Darna just pouted, professionally of course, which meant some tension in the shoulders and a slightly downturned mouth.

"I have reviewed dozens of reports from across the oversector and beyond. From the data I have compiled, it is clear this current pace of extraction is untenable for the vast majority of sectors. Thus, an advantage is possible in the realm of bureaucratic delay."

He inserted a data-chit into the holo-projector on the opposite side of my desk. From it sprung a number of datasheets and timetables.

"Governor-General Hiral is panicking. From the data it is clear he is not properly spreading the quotas out or fully utilizing the resources available to him. Admittedly, even if he did it would be impossible to meet the quotas. However, it is clear he is not handling the situation well. Complaints from the mid-rim sectors make it clear they are not happy with the increased quotas."

The projection changes to a map, the mid-rim sectors highlighted in red.

"I've analyzed public speeches, events, and other publicly available data. From what I've seen of micromovements, small social cues, and more, support for the Governor-General in these sectors is falling."

Now the projection moved onto data sheets once more, this time financial in nature.

"Based on publicly available financial records and markets, the money-makers of the sector are pulling away from the Governor-General's sphere of influence. Investment in companies he has stock in or founded is dropping at a steady pace, while core-world corporate influence is rising."

"Through this, we have an avenue. The Myto Sectors main issue is a lack of resources and industrial capacity needed to meet quota. Not pure financial power. Through strategic investments via shell corporations, it is possible for us to further destabilize the Governor-General's base of power. In doing so, we distract him from our sector and create more chaos. This allows us to more easily fake transcripts and shipping logs, alongside targeted bribery to the correct officials, which will therefore allow us to avoid large parts of the quota."

With his report finished, Thorne looked quite pleased with himself. Which, for Thorne, meant he had the tiniest hint of a smile.

"I see. This is a solid approach. Now, Darna?"

From her data chit sprang a different spreadsheet. Instead of publicly available financial and logistical data, what appeared was far more personal.

"This is a list of direct potential targets we have access to." Darna started, scrolling through the list.

"As you know, we've been hard at work spreading WEBs network of spies across the oversector. While most of our intel is located within our relative neighborhood, we have gained access to a few positions within the mid-rim sectors. Through this, and our deeper connections within the Velcar sector, we have discovered a few interesting connections."

The data shifted, showing a list of names all interconnected between the Velcar sector elite and the rich and powerful of the Mid-Rim portion of the Oversector.

"Our 'friends' in the Velcar sector aren't just rich slavers. Their rich slavers with mid-rim connections. In the Core, the rich pretend they're above slavery, as though they hold no part in it, even as their factories are filled with them. The rich of the Mid-Rim like to believe themselves part of the Core. Want to be part of the Core. So they follow the trends of the Core, such as an aversion to open slavery."

Again the projection shifted, this time to shaky photos taken with hidden cameras. The visuals were unclear, but what was clear was the sight of chains and beaten bodies.

"The thing is, they aren't actually better. Slavery is deeply embedded into a large portion of the Mid-Rim. So, they hide it. Lots of these magnates keep slaves both as workers in faraway factories or as personal pets in their vacation homes. Never in the open, certainly not in public. Those who make such a faux pax are quickly ridiculed by their peers and tend to lose influence and standing among Core connections."

On the next set of images, gala's and balls appeared. Glamorous things, easily ten times more expensive than anything I'd ever attended.

"So, we embarrass them. Expose them. These aren't the only dirty secrets they have, but they are the easiest to uncover. Combined with the already high tensions the Mid-Rim is going through, and a few other tricks of the trade, we could set off quite a few fireworks in their little parties."

Thorne's face scrunched up at the mention of Darna's 'tricks', but held his tongue. I knew he preferred to do things through data, reports, and more subtle means. Admittedly, it wasn't as though Darna's methods were particularly brazen, simply that he had very high standards.

Then again, tossing extra spices into party food and turning up the heat until it was a little too uncomfortable, was certainly a strange way to go about spy business. Thorne's ISB sensibilities were unused to it.

"Through this we can sow division amongst his followers and backers. By doing so, we create targets for him. Hiral has so far been protecting his backers from the full force of the quota by offloading the work onto other sectors, ours included. Now he will have enemies within his richest sectors, and removing the extra work from us to hoist back onto them will both relieve our strain and create more division among his powerbase."

The presentation finished, the two of them looked at me expectantly. Like dogs waiting to see which got the treat.

"Both methods hold merit. Frankly speaking, I don't see why we can't have both. As always, I expect both of you to work together. And any assassination plans are to go through me first."

The next few minutes were spent maneuvering their petty arguing. If they weren't both the best and only intelligence officers I had, I would've fired them for this kinda bullshit.

Eventually, they left. And I was in my office, alone once more.

Indignation!

You aren't a person, your a scaly pest. Pests don't get personhood.

Ignoring the tail flick that struck the back of my head, I focused in on the newest reports before me.

After the attack on Kuat, some rebels had gotten ahead of themselves. Specifically, those in the Gaulus sector. Ryloth, specifically.

They instigated a sector-wide revolt. It was well planned, and well executed.

It wasn't meant to happen yet. That much was clear.

They made solid progress for a whole week. Stolen ships, hidden bombs, and plenty of subterfuge I'm sure the reports didn't know about, let them make real progress.

Hell, they'd assassinated a very large portion of the local officer corp, and stolen two whole ISDs! That's incredibly impressive.

Combined with all their other trickery, they stood a solid chance at outwitting the sector fleet and winning their freedom.

Then Scourge Squadron arrived.

Ardus Kaine.

Within three days the rebels had been pushed back, their stolen ISD's destroyed. Three cities on Ryloth had been glassed. Jumbled guesses and underworld estimates put death tolls at some 200 million. Imperial reports didn't bother to count. I imagine they'd get to it eventually, once they had to start cleaning up the bodies.

Admittedly, the Ryloth Rebels weren't down for the count just yet. Guerilla warfare was still ongoing, and I imagine Ryloth would never stop being a trouble spot of sorts.

But such a large-scale slaughter was, without a doubt, the largest single casualty event since Yavin. Rebel propaganda was having a field day with this. More and more ships were being deployed from the Core to quell rising unrest across the galaxy.

Ryloth wasn't the cause of all this, simply the latest and most public event.

I sighed once more, and ignored the tiny voice in the back of my mind that told me I was doing too much of that for one lifetime, and focused on the paperwork instead.

Since money itself wasn't an issue, R&D was still going full blast as usual.

It had a myriad of projects, and normally these weren't cause for concern for me. I knew they had a few far out ones, like a project for revamping the ISD, and another for creating a successor ship to the ISD.

Neither project was given any berth space of course, but they wouldn't need any for a while.

What was more important was the LECA project. PROJECT IRONCLAD, it was called, sought to bring in the next generation of LECA frames. These were better in every way, more efficient and effective. Unlike the standard LECA which was initially literally cobbled together, this was more purpose built.

PROJECT IRONCLAD had recently finished development. And production of the new LECA units was already underway. They didn't require many resources that were in particularly high demand by the quotas, and those few that they did require we already produced in high enough numbers to not worry about them.

As these new units replaced old ones, we'd be stuck with a surplus of thousands of frames just sitting around. So, I decided to sell them off.

Unlike the civilian variants we built and sold, these military variants could only be legally sold to other Imperial Moffs. So, I'd have to arrange a buyer in these trying times.

Which wasn't as hard as it seemed. After all, which Imperial wouldn't want to buy a new weapon?

The Empire was so predictable it physically hurt.

–

Yo. Sorry for the late chapter. Combo of transfer to a new college alongside life and also playing a shit ton of Wardogs since it dropped makes me late on things. I had a second POV from Jir planned but I'll just start the next chapter off with that. We're overdue for an Interlude anyways.

As for baking adventures, made some fudge cookies, very good stuff, liked it a lot. Its a miracle how much some unsweetened coco powder can do. Also made a very basic butter/flour/sugar cake. It was a done in a rush for a party and it wasn't super good. The butter wasn't softened enough because it never is because softening butter perfectly is such a massive fucking pain in the ass. So chunks of butter in the cake melted during baking, so when you bite down you either get soft mediocrity or way too much butter.

Also had my first empanada ever. Kinda pathetic for a Los Angeles native. But it was absolutely fucking banging holy shit I gotta learn how to make those.

–Freefaller

Yacov · Sep 18, 2026

Omake: Quadron Class Starfighter

Production Information

Manufacturer: Curcio Dynamics (subsidiary of BGES)

Model: Quadron Class Starfighter

Type: Starfighter

Nicknames: Quota Fodder, Knockoff Trigon-2, The TIE's Backwater Cousin, The Ration Bar, The Brick

Cost: 60,000 Credits new

——

Technical Specifications

Engine unit(s): 2 civilian grade ion drives

Maximum atmospheric speed: 900 km/h

Hyperdrive: none

Shielding: civilian grade deflector shields

Power: commercial fusion generator

Hull: zirconium alloy hull

Color: deep black with white accents

Sensors: equipped

Armament:

2 shock cannons
1 light energy torpedo launcher

Crew: 1 Pilot

Cargo Capacity: 30 kg

Life Support: equipped

Consumables: 2 days

——

Usage

Availability: Military

Roles:

Extreme close range dogfighter
Alternative Resource Starfighter
Wartime emergency military starfighter
Checking boxes on quota flimsiwork

Affiliation:

Desperate or very low priority Imperial fleets in the Braxant sector
Starfighter replenishment deliveries sourced from the Braxant sector quota

——

Description
"The Empire expects me to produce starfighters!? We are an agriworld! Where am I supposed to get starfighters!? - Imperial Governor in the Braxant Sector upon receiving the new Imperial quota for his system.

The Quadron Class Starfighter is a widely distributed and widely despised starfighter produced by Curcio Dynamics. Designed around using substitute materials, this close range fighter remains inferior to even the most basic starfighters of its time. It continues to maintain sales figures despite that inferiority due to the present climate in the Empire.

Background
"Quotas are rising and Kuat is burning. What do we do now?"

"Same thing we always do. Make a starfighter design to match the current difficulties." - Curcio Dynamics' leadership's reaction to the attack on Kuat.

The rising quotas of 3ABY were devastating to the Braxant Sector economy. Wildly increased production goals, arbitrary product assignments, and a deafness to complaints from higher up left the Sector scrambling to recalibrate its economy. Resources were constantly being shifted and stockpiled for current or potentially future quotas.

One company to suffer from this confusion was Curcio Dynamics. This modest shipbuilding firm had survived with their Trigon and had begun to find moderate success with their Trigon-2. Unfortunately the chaos surrounding the quotas had begun to starve their lines of resources needed to continue product. Most damaging was the shortage of starship grade titanium which was being diverted to build ever more Imperial ships to satisfy ever increasing demands. Production of such titanium had just reached pre-Surrde levels for the private sector before the quota chaos threw the manufacturing and distribution network into a blender.

This turn of events left Curcio's leadership scramblings. Talks were had about cutting back production and returning to the Surrde era policies. Although these suggestions were ultimately rejected, researching the possibility did unearth another answer. During the Surrde era, a design was proposed of a starfighter constructed out of non-standard materials to avoid conflicting with military production. This proposal was rejected in favor of the cheaper proposal of using secondhand parts to produce what would become the Trigon. Yet with materials running low and more financial and technical resources at their proposal, Curcio's leadership decided to revisit the concept of an Alternative Resource Starfighter.

Design
"My eyes! My eyes! Where is the industrial cleaner!?"- Hospitalized Mindan R&D designer who was asked to do a write up on Curcio Dynamics' latest starfighter.

Quadrons did not share the same outward appearance of Curcio's previous starfighters. However the design philosophy of the company could still be visible for those that looked deeper.

The hull was shaped as a flat rectangle taking cues from the design of the H-Wing, which Curcio Dynamics obtained access to while designing the Trigon-2. This hull was the biggest departure from standard starfighter in that it was made of a zirconium alloy. This alloy was similar enough to titanium to function as a hull, but there were some unfortunate drawbacks. Zicronium was heavier than the titanium which made the Quadron slower and harder to maneuver despite the two engines attached to it. This sluggishness was not helped by the Quadron's lack of wings which Curcio cut to save on production requirements. Protection wise the zicronium alloy was somewhat comparable but still lesser than a standard titanium hull. The weak deflector shield installed on the Quadron to compensate only made it marginally more durable than an unshielded TIE/In.

Weapon wise, Curcio went back to their old habits and began digging through old designs in hopes of scavenging something other than a standard laser cannon. Eventually they found what they were looking for in the form of the shock cannons, an alternative weapon for the old Republic V-Wing. These cannons functioned more like beam weapons than more typical laser weapons. Increasing in damage the closer the target is. Said damage was also dependent on the size of the target, with it being most effective against ships the size of starfighters. This was a poor combination for a ship as relatively slow and poorly armored as the Quadron. However the main parts of the shock cannons were not being competed for as fiercely as laser cannon parts, which was what Curcio Dynamics cared the most about.

To give the Quadron something to use against larger targets, Curcio Dynamics attached a single light energy torpedo launcher. However this introduced its own problems to the starfighter. Due to the less powerful, but more available fusion engine Curcio used, the Quadron was unable to charge an energy torpedo and fire its shock cannons at the same time. Pilots would have to toggle between one or the other depending on the target it faced. Curcio did not see this as too much of a drawback givien the shock cannons were not effective on larger ships and the energy torpedoes were difficult to use on starfighters. So it was viewed by the company as unnecessary to have both primed at once.

Overall the Quadron was slow, sluggish, poorly armored, and needed to get close to a target to do effective damage. Still it was cheap to build, easy to produce, and most importantly used next to no materials or components of other ships or vehicles that were being manufactured for the Imperial quota. Curcio Dynamics had an Alternative Resource Fighter that they could produce despite the material limitations caused by the quota.

Reception and the Quadron Scandal
"Look I get that your pilots want the prestige of flying a TIE, even willing to fly an unshielded one. However the quotas have everyone's vulnerabilities in a vice and flying this is only slightly more suicidal." - Curcio Dynamics sales rep trying to assuage concerns from the Imperial procurement team at the Quadron's debut.

Upon its debut to potential buyers the Quadron was lambasted as a joke. Imperial Military commanders compared it to the TIE/Minda and publicly proclaimed it woefully inadequate. They wondered out loud why they would even consider something that performed even worse than the Trigon-2. Needless to say, the public introduction of Curcio's latest starfighter was less than stellar.

However Curcio Dynamics was contacted by multiple parties privately after the debut inquiring how many Quadrons they could produce. The buyers had Imperial credentials, but did not want any procurement deals publicized. The Empire's new quotas were breathing down everyone's necks and any starfighter production was seen as a potential solution. So it was that Curcio Dynamics Quadron lines were subcontracted under various Imperial Governors and discretely shipped around the Braxant Sector.

An internal investigation by the Braxant Sector Government later uncovered a web of collusion between Curcio Dynamics and various Imperials Governors and officials across the sector in what would be dubbed the Quadron Scandal. Governors would secretly order Quadrons shipped from Curcio at an overcharged price to ensure the company's discretion. These Governors would then pass off these Quadrons as their system's own domestic production starfighters. The Governors would then collude with Imperial officials to have the Quadrons labeled as Imperial Starfighters for use in fulfilling their increased Imperial quotas. This scheme was especially popular with Governors of worlds containing no domestic starfighter production who were nevertheless assigned a starfighter production quota.

Curcio Dynamics was able to maximize their production numbers due to the Quadron's simplistic design, use of resources that not many were competing for, retooling the Trigon-2 lines, subcontracting with local idle shipbuilding firms, local Imperial support, and what could charitably described as an unhealthy tolerance of quality control issues. Hundreds of Quadrons were produced and sent to fulfill quotas of desperate Imperial leaders around the Braxant Sector. Curcio Dynamics made tens of millions of Credits in sales as the Quadron became their most profitable and numerous product to date.

These Quadrons were then fed into the Imperial Military logistics network with an Imperial Starfighter designation as a result of the collusion between Imperial Governors and officials in the Braxant Sector. This designation went unchallenged due to those clerks who were supposed to check Braxant's contributions being overwhelmed trying to process all the incoming material from the new quotas and minimal additional staff being assigned to help. As a result the Quadron retained the same priority level as a TIE/In. Dozens of Imperial captains were blindsided when they received wings of Quadrons to replenish the starfighter complements for their ships instead of the TIEs they were expecting.

Unfortunately for those captains, the chaos consuming the Empire caused their complaints to be added to the bottom of an ever growing pile. After the internal investigation concluded, Moff Delinian sent a private condemnation to Curcio Dynamics and the Imperials who participated in the Quadron Scandal. However the collusion was too widespread and Moff Delinian was unwilling to alienate both his subordinates and potentially the BGES during such as turbulent time. Not to mention Curcio Dynamics had (technically) fulfilled the procurement contracts they had signed and the improper designation was primarily on the Imperial side of the matter. The results of the internal investigation never made it out of the sector.

Conclusion
"I was told I was getting Imperial Starfighters! What are these tumor-ridden rectangles!?" - Imperial captain in the Core unhappy at having his ship's starfighter complement replenished with Quadrons.

Some say the Quadron was Curcio Dynamics falling back into its worst old habits. Others argue it was the company returning to its roots. Regardless the Quadron was most assuredly a product of the time in which it was created. Something like the Quadron wouldn't have been built or spread as far as it did if the Imperial Quota System did not lose all sense of rationality. The Empire asked for an unreasonable amount of starfighters, and technically got some of what they could have reasonably expected. Whether the Quadrons were better or worse for the Empire than receiving less or no starfighters from those systems is a theoretical for military historians to debate.

——
Curcio Dynamics is back at it again. This time they figured out how to turn triangles into rectangles and a broken Imperial quota system into millions of Credits in profits for their company. The current situation with the quotas is rife with opportunities for procurement fraud and I felt Curcio possessed the relevant skills and the right kind of brazen attitude to attempt to defraud the Imperial Military with an inferior product. Moff Delinian probably wasn't as thorough at cleaning up the more covert pockets of corruption as Las was, which gives opportunities for nonsense like this to occur.

The overall morality around producing Quadrons for the quota is a bit murky. Is it a good enough starfighter to justify the Imperial Starfighter designation and its price tag? No. Is the only reason so many were made due to a sector wide conspiracy of graft and corruption? Yes. Were these Imperial Governors going to be sending anything resembling good starfighters for their quota if they didn't send Quadrons? Most likely no. It really boils down to whether you think a bad starfighter is better than no starfighter.

The Quadron was inspired by the Caudron C.714. A French wooden monoplane designed just before WW2 that was meant to be produced without taking away standard military aircraft production lines or resources. For imagery, think an H-Wing but a bit shorter and a flat front. No it doesn't have wings because wings would cost more time and resources.

Crossposted on SB and SV

Edit: DunHozzie over at SB at it again with some good art. Gaze upon its blocky and hard to turn glory. Imagine being an Imperial captain and seeing your hanger filled with these instead of the TIEs you were expecting.

Freefaller · Oct 12, 2026

Chp-126 Interlude

Jir Mola
3.8 ABY
Accordia, Minda

The office was abuzz with energy unlike any Jir had previously seen.

Normally, the Guild office was filled with background chatter. The noise of fingers on keyboards, casual break conversation, and the rushing of the occasionally late worker.

Now, the energy was different. Frantic. The casual conversations became hushed discussions. Keyboards rattled with furious energy. And for once, no one showed up late.

All of this, caused by the Empire's fear.

And that's what it was. Jir knew they would call it caution or strength or something else, but she'd grown up amongst the gangs and syndicates. When the strong grew fearful, they fell back on their strength. They pushed for more.

When one feels threatened, they rely upon what they know to do best. For the Empire, that means cracking down on things.

A part of Jir was worried. For all its relative stability, the chaos of the Guild HQ made it clear the Myto Sector wasn't free of the Empire's foolish endeavors. But then again, there were few places free of such.

Still, she kept a backup plan ready, as always. A false identity had been hard to come by, but thankfully the Guild was generous with its vacation days, and she'd taken some to search for the correct underworld contacts. If need be, Jir could disappear into the Corporate Sector.

"...and your payment will be transferred as usual."

"Does that include the hazard bonus?"

"Correct"

The mercenaries before her grinned. "And the next contract? You got anything for us?"

With a swipe of her fingers on her PDA, the holoprojector between them flashed with dozens of options.

"There are a variety of options for a team of your skillset. Given your team size, composition, and noted skills, these are the best missions available."

One of the mercs, the team leader, scanned the page quickly. His mouth curved into a frown as he did.

"Is this it? We came here expecting better!" His fist slammed into the table between them. Brutish, foolish, but nothing she couldn't handle.

"If you believe yourselves more capable than the Guilds rating system, you may take on a mission above your current rank. However, I am obligated to warn you–"

"Then sign us up already! Get us a better gig!"

The screen changed once more, missions appearing once more. Higher rewards, along with higher danger ratings.

Here the mercenaries cheered. Within a minute they'd picked out a new mission hunting a particularly persistent gang of pirates and left, all of them speculating on what they'd do with their cut of the profits.

With their meeting over, she left the meeting room back to her desk.

Sitting down at her desk, she immersed herself in her work. Reports and statistics were soothing to her. Orderly, predictable, a sense of method to the madness of the sector.

A few minutes later, Melandre sat down at her own desk next to her, sighing in exhaustion.

"These mercs are the worst!" she exclaimed even as she signed a report that Jir recognized as a mission acceptance report.

"They are from outside the sector. The Guild's lowering of requirements has allowed useless riffraff to enter the institution. It is abhorrent."

Melandre sighs again. The tone is different, deeper almost. Jir has heard this sigh before, if rarely. Something akin to grief.

"I…had another team die today." She said, voice smaller. "...third this month. "

With lowering standards and heightened risk came the Guild's loosening of requirements. Now teams could take missions one rank above their own. It helped curb the more dangerous criminal elements now that more guns were pointed their way. It also led to higher death counts.

"They agreed under their own volition, therefore any fault lies with them."

"That doesn't make it right."

Jir glanced at her, and found Melandre frowning deeply and staring at her desk. Strange. She was oftentimes one of the hardest workers of their department.

Did she actually care?

…It didn't matter. Jir knew her position within Melandre's group had been destroyed. Her old accent had slipped in a moment of weakness, exposing her. As such, further non-professional contact with that group was inadvisable. She'd kept her distance despite Melandre's attempts to reconnect.

"They agreed under their own volition. If they cannot understand their own limits and foolishly try to push forward, the fault lies with them. Bemoaning this will do you no good."

Jir didn't know why she said that. Something about the look in the girls eyes…

"That doesn't make it right."

Now Melandre was looking at her, eyes wet with unshed tears but filled with a steel she'd never seen before.

"It's our job to guide them. To make sure they succeed." Her voice seemed to wobble, but she stayed steady. "And now I'm being told to let them go on missions I know they won't succeed at? All because some idiots in the Core want more of everything and leave nothing for us to defend ourselves with!?"

Her outburst drew stares, though none spoke out. Did she perhaps have influence to avoid such a thing? Jir drew on her mental database and concluded that couldn't be the case, Melandre lacked such pull.

They stayed silent because they agreed with her.

Melandre noticed the stares, and quickly wiped her face with her sleeve before turning back towards her terminal.

Jir did the same, trying to immerse herself in reports and her work. But in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but replay that moment over and over again.

Was her duty truly that important to Melandre? Had Jir misjudged the woman, believing her to be a career climber like her instead of some kind of idealist?

And why did the look in her eyes dig a pit in her stomach…

Jir dug a fingernail into her palm, snapping her out of the funk she'd allowed herself to be trapped in. Such thoughts were inefficient and purposeless. If work could not allow her to escape, she'd find something else.

Like monitoring the investigation about the mugger she'd killed. It should've been dropped by now but the so-called 'brutality' of the killing worried the police enough to continue. She'd covered her tracks well, but perhaps there was more she could do. After all, it wasn't as though she could trust the police. What kind of foolish sentiment was that? Police were beacons of corruption that would doubtlessly extort her if they discovered it was her.

Anything to keep those eyes out of her head.
–
Brocso'ior'ovinor/Oioro
3.9 ABY
Minda
The clacking of her heels was rhythmic and perfectly spaced.

She'd chosen her heels specifically to make a unique sound — higher-pitched and almost musical, each heel making a slightly different noise.

The sound acted like a signifier. People knew who she was by sound alone.

With recurring negotiators, it was an effective intimidation tactic.

Admittedly, she also wore them because they looked nice and she liked the sound. They were from Aphelion after all.

The fashion brand of the sector, made by the Moff's previous secretary and expensive to boot. Afforded thanks to her generous salary.

A salary she used to immerse herself in a multitude of activities — from fashion shows to weekends at the gun range. There was an honestly surprising number of activities throughout Minda to enjoy. Why, just last week she'd taken one of the trains to Rolling Greens to see a parade celebrating a good harvest.

It was wonderful cover.

After all, Oioro was a spy for the Chiss Ascendancy. Her outings weren't just for pleasure, but as covert ways of dropping information or receiving orders.

Though at times she barely felt she was a spy at all. After all, the Moff knew she was a spy.

And he just... let her continue.

Oioro had been sending monthly reports and info packets, alongside stolen blueprints and ideas. And while she took great care to be quiet and careful, there was no way she wasn't constantly being monitored.

She presumed he must be waiting for something — or perhaps he truly didn't care. What she did know was that he expected her to do her job well, like any other member of the sector government.

She stopped at the end of the hall at a door flanked by two internal security stormtroopers.

Their armor was painted a mix of white and red, while their helmets were a tad bulkier, holding extra comm-tech that connected them to the facility's systems.

At their sides stood heavy shields. Dense slabs of metal with a small viewport and a port for firing their weapons from.

They didn't normally carry the shields with them, given the weight, with the protective gear instead stashed in emergency lockers across the facility in case of an attack. It wouldn't do to have the security guards tired before lunch.

But Oioro had them use them when delegates were visiting. It added a bit more to the intimidation.

Stepping into the meeting room, she made sure she was wearing the appropriate smile. Not too friendly, but not too predatory. Somewhere in between, to leave them off guard.

"Hello there. My name is Oioro, head of Sector Acquisitions."

As she sat down, she studied the person across from her.

Human, mid-30s, with a large mustache and incredibly pale skin. Raised on a station, most likely.

Her eyes scanned his face, seeing no signs of disgust or arrogance at her for being non-human. In the corner of her vision, her modified Guild glasses provided her with important snippets of a dossier on the man.

"A pleasure to meet you. I am Yotham Starjo, lead negotiator for Starjo Shipping Inc."

They shook hands even as she mentally reviewed what she knew.

Starjo Inc. was a mid-sized shipping concern operating out of the Mid-Rim. They used to operate many routes and were a serious regional contender.

But now? They were losing money. They had failed to acquire proper patronage, and once Hiral made Governor-General, they had lost contracts to competitors with better political connections.

They needed this contract.

Perfect.

She passed a dataslate over to him, contract pre-loaded and pre-filled, with the signing section highlighted and an e-pen in his hand. A simple technique, these things subtly primed him to take the path of least resistance and sign.

But his eyes didn't simply glance over the contract. He took the time to read through it, mechanical and precise. He was better than she gave him credit for.

"This pay is higher than the market average…but I don't see any additional responsibilities. Demand isn't this high."

Her smile widened a tad. "Of course. The payment is for discretion. The cargo you will be shipping is of a sensitive nature."

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were shipping coaxium?"

"Correct. But certain ships will need to be taken aside at random for…extra checks at checkpoints. Security, you understand."

Yothman nodded, slowly. His eyes scanned the contract again, likely looking for traps. "And the paperwork, it'll be handled through your office?"

"Of course."

He nodded again. It was clear he understood the true nature of the deal.

Ships would weigh cargo, leave without unloading, then go back and weigh again.

Combined with a few other tricks of the trade, the scheme would pad their coaxium numbers.

Oioro was unsure — for such a scheme couldn't last more than six to eight months. But she was no longer privy to the Moff's innermost circle of confidence now that she was no longer his secretary.

It shouldn't have mattered to her. If the Moff gets caught and the sector goes to hell, she'd just leave. But a part of her had come to enjoy the sector and her job.

Her mind jumped to the upcoming info dead drop she needed to make.

If she worded things right, maybe she could get the Ascendancy to help…

–

Garpastealap "Garp" Hath
3.10 ABY
Clok

The hotel's private dining suite was luxurious in all the ways a business professional would love.

Seating that was comfortable but not excessively extravagant. Lighting that was both soft enough to not hurt the eyes, while being bright in just the right way to wake one up in time for a meeting.

And the food was crafted practically by committee. Every item on the menu was incredibly well prepared, yet not one item was out of place. Each meal was built to satisfy hunger without stuffing the client. Food that would taste great without gastrointestinal distress or post-meal drowsiness. Food that was easy to eat in quick bites so those eating could discuss business throughout the meal.

The waiters were dressed in neutral colors and simple clothing. Well made, but ultimately as simple as possible. They were built to blend into the background, to reduce the waiter into a set piece. A biological droid to be ignored so as to not interrupt any business.

Garp hated it.

The entire hotel felt manufactured, bland, and utterly without soul.

Which, to be fair, was most hotels he went to.

Normally, he'd ignore it. Sometimes, it would inspire him.

This time, it was simply another annoyance added to this family dinner.

Around the table sat his family, each massively successful in their own ways. Each holding valuations worth billions of credits.
"...but it turned out alright in the end, what with them going under and all. Quite the scare, I must say."

"Ah, I understand. Even when your position seems unassailable, there is always a crack to be exploited. You'd do well to keep that caution with you."

"Of course, father. Speaking of caution, mother did you not recently pull back from that hostile takeover attempt of yours? You seemed to almost have them."

"I know, and I almost did. But the final few holdouts went to dinner with MuutaPharma executives and I'm not in a position to be going toe to toe with them quite yet."

These were the common conversations his family partook in. Business on business. It was an absolute soul-sucking endeavor.

The only reason he was here at all was because he'd quite literally run into them in the financial district of Clok Station. The station had become the major financial center of the sector, hosting bustling stock-trading hubs, financial data centers and more.

Garp had been passing by on the way to Minda after returning from a show, and decided to check and see if there were any stocks worth buying. He also wanted to step a little outside of his comfort zone and see if he could find any inspiration. Perhaps the blandness of the corporate world could spark something in his mind.

The only thing it sparked was an accidental meeting with his sister, who immediately and without apology dragged him into this family dinner.

Apparently, the immediate inner-circle of the Hath family, meaning only the immediate family, were on Clok to celebrate the opening of a new branch of Hath Inc.

"And you, Garpastealap? How has your…enterprise been going?"

His mothers voice was tight, suffused with the awkward feeling of not quite knowing how to address a topic properly yet feeling as though they must.

"It's going quite well mother, thank you. My latest pieces have sold very well and I retain a far better understanding of the fashion space of the sector than my competitors."

"I see…thats quite nice dear."

"And your profits?" There was his father, barreling on into the conversation. At least his mother tried somewhat to understand. To his father, who'd clawed his way from the bottom of the Hath family line to become Chairman, the only thing that mattered was profit.

"Healthy. My products have lower margins to achieve a higher overall customer base, alongside cultural capture of the audience. I also recently won a contract to design the new Guild uniforms."

They all stared at him with blank faces, clearly waiting for the hard numbers. That was simply how they were. When one spoke of profit to a Muun, hard numbers were expected or they'd think you a fraud.

So, he rattled off the latest profit numbers. A few million on this line, a few million on that product. Aphelion was fairly successful, though not as much as those in richer sectors. He explicitly refused to expand to such sectors as of yet, preferring to hold to the Myto Sector and its neighbors to establish his brand identity.

Outer-Rim high fashion wasn't something most people thought could exist, meaning it was an untapped market.

Upon revealing the numbers, he got just about the reaction he expected. A mix of surprise that he was making any money at all, pride that he was successful, and disappointment that his profits weren't measured in the billions.

The strangest part about all of this was that they were surprised he could make money with fashion. It wasn't as though there weren't incredibly profitable fashion brands out there.

Then again, Muun culture didn't care all that much about such things.

"That's wonderful dear. I knew being friends with the Moff would be good for you."

A spike of anger rose in his chest, but he suppressed his reaction. "My connections are irrelevant, mother. Not only did I not use them, government contracts for the Myto Sector are done blindly. I couldn't have been favored."

Garp refused under any circumstances to utilize either his family connections or political connections to help himself. He would grow his fashion empire on his own. Build his own brand. Backroom deals and corrupt tricks were a betrayal of that.

Well, there was that one time he asked Myr'thos to sabotage a competitor. But that brand made all their clothes using the skin of a species that was only classified as 'non-sapient' because of Imperial corruption, so he had no conniptions over it.

"A shame. Well, I have heard the sector is looking for medical production, am I right?"

"Correct, mother. They've been subsidizing start ups and new production lines." Among other things.

To be frank, while Garp no longer had access to internal Imperial documents, he could tell the sector was bleeding money. It had become quite rich in the previous years yet it seemed to be throwing it into a dozen different projects and programs.

Oh, he'd seen the bonds. He'd bought a substantial amount. But that was just a stop-gap. The sector seemed to be aiming towards self sufficiency while the wider Empire squeezed it for all it could give.

"Could you be a dear and give the Moff a call for me? I'd love to expand more thoroughly into the sector, but the negotiation department refuses to entertain any queries from your fathers banking connections."

"Quite strict, those negotiators" his father chimed in. "Very good at what they do. They actually got a good deal out of the Chosk clan."

Again, the anger spiked up. This time, he wouldn't suppress it. At least not fully.

Garp looked up from his meal to stare his mother in the eyes.

"No."

Silence emanated from the table.

"...I'm sorry dear. Could you repeat that?"

"I won't use my friendship with Las to get you a contract."

"But dear, you have lunch with the man every month! Couldn't you just bring up my name? I know the sector needs it badly."

"If you want that contract, earn it. The sector is a fair place. Unless you lack confidence in your product?"

"My products are top of the line, and you know it!"

"Then prove it."

Suffice it to say, the rest of dinner was an awkward affair.

–

Ife Veers
3.11 ABY
Minda

The painting was, aesthetically speaking, beautiful. Clean lines and bright colors, alongside a near perfect replication of the subjects.

Her family portrait was perfect.

To the left stood her father, tall and proud. He exuded an energy of abundance, a well of enthusiasm that never ended.

To the right stood her mother. Calm and collected, a beacon of stability. In her arms was her baby brother, a bright blob of youth without a proper person to contain it quite yet.

And in the center stood her. She'd donned her academy military uniform for the picture, a proud smile on her face. She'd still been attending the general military academy at the time, yet to choose her path forward.

The next picture was different.

Her mother was gone.

Now, her father stood in the center. He held the same energy, but muted, focused. Not enthusiasm, but drive. Endless drive.

In front of him was Ife, older then. Solemn. Her grades in the academy had dropped that year, and father never let that go.

And in front of her, was her brother. He was small, but that youthful energy was nearly gone. In its place was a feeling she couldn't quite describe but which she knew all too well.

The picture after that was of her father and brother only. She'd left for the naval academy by this time, disowned in all but name.

Ife turned to stare down the hallway. Endless rows of pictures adorned the walls of her ancestral family home on Denon. The rustling of robes echoed down the hall. The slave's robes, she remembers. They were always rougher and scritched and scratched on the floor when they walked.

She couldn't look at them. She'd never wanted to look them in the eyes. They were too sad. So she turned the other way.

Another endless hallway. But standing in it was a figure, short and stout.

They had no face, no recognizable features. No one in the hallway, from the slaves to the paintings, had any sort of detail to them.

But she recognized the figure all the same. Anger, a sad, bitter kind filled the figure. He didn't speak in words, for she'd forgotten his voice. But she knew the tone. She didn't want to hear it.

So she ran. Past the figure, past the paintings, down the endless hallway.

If she could just find the exit, find the path, find her ship, she would be fine. Safe once more on the bridge of the Theorem, away from it all.

But the hallway didn't end in an exit. It ended in large wooden double doors.

A luxury among luxuries on an ecumenopolis like Denon, where natural life rarely grew.

She knew these doors. The doors to her fathers study. She'd been inside as a child, that much she knew. But now? When was the last time she'd been? Would she recognize it?

Ife didn't want to know. Didn't want to open the door. But between the door and the figure far behind her, she had one path.

Her hand touched the knob…

And she woke up, heart pounding and sweat pouring down her face.

Her surroundings came into focus, and the warm presence at her side helped her steady her breathing.

At first, the ceiling above her was unfamiliar. As was the light pouring through the windows, or the distant sounds of the city outside. She slept on the Theorem, and was accustomed to harsh lights and bland metal. The only sound the humming of the ship.

Without it, she felt lost.

Then, her mind retraced her steps. Late nights working overtime, responding to emergency calls and coordinating patrol groups. Meetings into the early hours of the morning with sector military officials, sometimes with the Moff, sometimes without. And mountains of paperwork, such that she envied the Moffs strange ability to simply do it.

Then, a message. A mandatory break. The Moff wouldn't have his top brass overworking themselves, the hypocrite. What was she to do now? Ife rarely took breaks.

But, she was in a relationship now. And that Love for Dummies holo-vid had made it clear that spending quality time was key. So, she invited Shal out for a night in the city.

Flashes of their time streaked through her mind in a hazy, pleasant blur. Taking pictures at monuments, signing autographs for those who recognized her, paying respects at memorials and so much more.

A romantic boat ride and dinner through Accordia's river, the Midnight Accord, had capped off their night. And when the sky went dark, they turned the boat's lights off and watched the river glow like a galaxy in the moonlight.

Then, they found a hotel room and…

A blush erupted across her face. She'd have to leave an extra tip for the cleaning droid.

Climbing out of bed, delicately so as to not wake Shal, Ife made her way to the hotel kitchenette. There, she brewed a cup of caff and sat at the table, staring at the marble countertop.

She wanted to focus on the previous night. On the pure joy she'd experienced, the first in a long time. But she couldn't.

Her mind kept jumping back. To that hallway. To those paintings. To that door.

With mechanical precision, she retrieved her PDA and flicked to the message. The report sent about her fathers death. She'd been reading and re-reading it in the months since he'd died.

IMPERIAL NAVAL BUREAU | CASUALTY NOTIFICATION COMMAND
DEATH SQUADRON FLAGSHIP FLOTILLA | PERSONNEL RECORDS OFFICE
DISTRIBUTION: IMMEDIATE RELATIVE / NEXT OF KIN

RECIPIENT: Veers, Ife

SUBJECT: Official Notification of Operational Casualty

REGARDING: Veers, Maximilian (General, Imperial Ground Forces)

Dear Next of Kin,

The Imperial Naval Bureau and the Commanding Office of Death Squadron regret to inform you of a casualty involving your immediate family member.

On standard operational date corresponding to the assault on the Hoth system, General Maximilian Veers was killed in action while performing assigned command duties in service to the Galactic Empire. Ground operations were disrupted by hostile rebel elements employing unlawful strike craft. During this hostile action, General Veers sustained fatal injuries while maintaining his command post.

Be assured that General Veers died valiantly in the line of duty, fulfilling his obligations to the Emperor and advancing the security of the galaxy. His efforts contributed directly to the neutralization of insurgent assets within the theater.

All personal effects currently held within his quarters aboard the flagship will be inventoried by the sector logistics office. Eligible items will be processed for transfer to your recorded address following standard security clearance and bio-decontamination protocols. Pension inquiries, back-pay requisitions, and death benefit applications must be submitted directly to the nearest Sector Administrative Office or equivalent using Imperial Form 1080-C.

The Empire acknowledges his service.

Sincerely,

Casualty Processing Division

Bureau of Imperial Personnel, Death Squadron Command

Galactic Empire Fleet Administration

She'd tried calling her brother to tell him the news, maybe send something of fathers. She couldn't find his number.

They'd taken months to send his affects. Trouble on the shipping lanes, they said. Low priority.

When his things arrived, the box was small and there was little within. Whether that was because her father kept very few things or because they just didn't bother sending it all, she didn't know.

And that was the thing. She didn't know. Ife Veers did not know her own father. Not truly.

When she'd first opened that box, within it was a series of photos. One was of her graduating from the naval academy.

He hadn't been there. But he'd kept the picture. Why?

She'd never know. How could she? After leaving for the academy she hadn't looked back. She'd changed numbers, always lived on the ship, and did everything she could to get as far away from his side of the military as she could.

And now she'd never know. It was why that dream always ended at the doorway. She didn't know what he was like, not truly. Not since she was a kid.

But the one thing she did know about him, was that her father was no fool. He was proud, yes. He was loud, without a doubt. And he loved his ATAT's. But to lose to strike craft?

It sounded ridiculous. Her father loved ATAT's, and therefore was aware of the platforms weaknesses. It was why he was always advocating for a million variants. He wouldn't charge into a battlespace without anti-air or air superiority.

But it wasn't as though she could get her hands on the Hoth battle reports. So she could only speculate. Either the rebels brought more firepower, or he lacked AA.

If it was the former, then it was simple. The rebels killed her father using air superiority. They brought heavier firepower of some kind, perhaps those Y-Wings she'd heard of.

If it was the latter…she wasn't so sure what to think. Her father wouldn't charge ahead without AA unless he knew he had a chance. But clearly he didn't. Either he didn't know they had air superiority, or he was ordered to charge without it.

Knowing what she did of the average Imperial Commander…

The caff woke her up, sending her mind racing away from her troubles. This strange feeling did her no good.

Instead, she jumped into the pile of reports waiting for her on her PDA. Nothing like work to distract the mind.

The reports were the usual bad news mixed with the occasional nugget of goodness.

For example, the Empire's demands were ever increasing. More ships, more weapons, more supplies. Every shipyard in the sector was so swamped she could hardly get new vessels to fill the gaps, having to rely on Guild mercenaries.

On the other hand, R&D had come through. Their Project: Imperial Rebirth was showing success. The project sought to decrease the crew requirements of the ISD. While they hadn't yet finished, they had discovered a variety of things regarding the general structure of Kuat Drive Yards ships that allowed for crew cutting measures across the board.

If only she had the ships to divert this freed up manpower to.

And she was supposed to. HIGHCOM simply couldn't decide if they had to crack down on the Outer Rim or reinforce the Core. Ships were called from the Rim only to be told mid-transit to go back, and then to reverse once more.

There was an ISD that had been jumping back and forth between the same two systems for the last two weeks that should've been in the sector a month ago.

It was as though the galaxy was falling apart around her. She knew it wouldn't last. HIGHCOM would calm down once KDY repaired its factories and the Rebels lost a few more battles. The quotas would calm down and patrol schedules would return to normal.

Something similar had happened during the Mid-Rim Offensive, after all. She just had to hold out.

And, if nothing else, the constant work was a good distraction.

It was as she immersed herself into the sea of reports that she felt a soft, warm hand caress her shoulder. Turning to look behind her, she came face to face with Shal.

Her hair was messy and tangled, sticking out at odd angles after years of confinement to a regulation bun. Her face was scrunched up with morning tiredness and she was wobbling on her feet ever so slightly.

Shal was, for lack of a better word, radiant.

She could've kept staring at her for hours if Shal didn't decide to poke her in the cheek.

"And what exactly am I looking at here? Work? On your mandatory off day?"

"I was just–"

"Nuh-uh, zip-it!" Shal mimed a zipper closing her mouth. It was so at odds with the calm, collected, controlled person she knew.

Another facet to fall in love with.

"The Moff himself decreed you would take two days off. Today is day two. You. Will. Be. Off. Got it?" She emphasized each word with a poke to the cheek and a grumpy face.

Ife couldn't help but chuckle in response. "Ok, ok. I'll 'be off', whatever that means. Do you have anything planned?"

Shals face scrunched even more in concentration, sleep addled mind trying to find something.

"...later. Right now, back to bed!"

Ife laughed again, and let herself be dragged back to bed.

The feeling was still there. A strange pit in her stomach, an ache for something she couldn't quite place.

But as she cuddled under the blankets with the woman she was increasingly becoming certain was the love of her life, Ife found she was certain it would turn out alright.

–

Darna Sabrir
3.12 ABY
Minda

The contract sitting before her was a lie.

A well constructed lie, she'd give them that, but a lie nonetheless. Megacorps were good at that sort of thing.

Darna had, in some distant corner of her mind, hoped she'd never have to deal with contracts ever again. That was what Oioro's department was for, after all.

But megacorps didn't care about things like that. They sent contracts directly to the Moff, and when he told them to bugger off and talk to Oioro, they usually did.

Some didn't get the message, and so they went to her. After all, why talk to some negotiator when you could talk to the head of the Guild?

And so, contracts came to her desk. She reviewed them, of course. But she never signed them. Always gave them to Oioro.

Reading them was good practice for spotting the lies.

For example, an agricultural giant wanted to buy obscene amounts of land in the sectors main agriworlds. They promised massive returns, huge amounts of foodstock, enough that selling the excess would solve their financial worries.

Their numbers weren't the lie. Those were correct. The production numbers, the profit margins, it all added up. In theory, this contract could double the sector's income over the next four years.

In theory.

The lie lay in the clauses, where most lies lay. See, the contract only stipulated a preset amount of farmland. Any land developed or bought after the fact would not be subject to the contracts conditions.

And, according to another clause, if the sector could not provide adequate protection, the company would provide its own, and get tax breaks proportional to how much they need to spend on their protection.

Meaning, they would hire a dozen security firms owned by either their subsidiaries or friends, pay them obscene amounts, and launder the money back into executive pockets. Effectively making tax free money.

And by the time the sector could provide protection, the company would've cornered the market with cheaper goods. By then, it would have far more power, deeper networks of bribery, and be nearly impossible to uproot.

It was the third contract in a similar vein she'd received that day.

What made it different was where the company was from.

Officially, it was based off of Coruscant. But backtracking the owners, investors, and shell companies led to owners who were based in the Velcar Sector.

Darna had to resist the urge to sigh. The Velcar Sector had been a premiere pain in her ass for years now. The only time she enjoyed working with Thorne on anything was screwing over the Velcar Sector.

Reaching deep into her mind, she perused the most recent HAVEN reports on the sector.

Piracy was theoretically high, but in reality most of those pirates were bought by the various elites and power blocs of the sector to raid one another. Some even funded raids into the Myto Sector, though internal conflict inevitably drew the raiders back to Velcar to strike at another rival.

Now, what could she do to disrupt that arrangement?

Direct attacks were out of the question. Perhaps sabotage against supply lines? Risky but could make pirates strike out on their own if they believe the oligarchs aren't helping. Could also simply create more cooperation between oligarchs.

Perhaps staging fake raids? HAVEN had some off the books armed freighters that could be painted the right colors. A few light 'raids' against oligarchs, really just flybys, could incite more violence between them. But it carried even more risk, too close to a direct assault.

Information. That was always king, even pirates knew that. If she could get some ledgers, some financial transactions, she could leak them. If pirate crews knew who was calling what shots, who was paying who, the calculus changes.

The pirates don't know who they're really working for. The smart ones, the captains, they'll have an idea or two. But the fixers selling them info won't squeal easily and the pay is good. Having confirmation they're just a buffer? Disposable? It'll scare off some, make others demand more.

It'll also create uncertainty among the oligarchs. Who leaked the info? Their friends? Their family?

They were already at one another's throats. Their world was one of constant infighting. This would heighten that.

The only one she was truly worried about, however, was Gregor Raquoran. HAVEN had made little progress in its infiltration, and unlike the other oligarchs he seemed to be taking a slower, steadier approach to gaining power.

He'd likely be the next Moff of the sector, all things considered. That possibility wasn't something she wanted.

Because any of the other oligarchs would be easier to manage. Gregor was cunning, and would doubtlessly secure a far stronger power base before gaining Moffdom compared to Ecressys.

Sighing, she made a mental note to bring it up in her and Thorne's next meeting. They always met at a nice, upscale, secure place in the Sullustan Quarter. The meals, a weekly lunch, were good enough to cover while they spoke in code. And the food was good.

She also made a note to check the Aphelion catalog for anything new. Thorne had that infuriating smug smile–really the tiniest curve of his lip–as he wore a nicer outfit the week before.

Darna Sabrir would not be outdone!

–

Yo. This chapter is sort of a timeskip. I didn't want to stretch out the time until the Deathstar with pointless stuff, but at the same time a straight timeskip felt too cheap. So I decided on this Interlude, with each chapter being a month after the previous one. Has the added bonus of giving me space to write some characters I haven't touched recently.

Sorry for the much longer wait than usual. A combination of the new Ace Combat game dropping, midterms popping up, and me getting dragged into the deep end of nation roleplaying has had me procrastinating this chapter for weeks.

That and the fact it's much longer than usual.

–Freefaller

Yacov · Oct 15, 2026

Omake: Sharing a Bottle of Applewine

POV: Imperial Army Brigadier Fri Gould, Commander Glitz's Personal Quarters, Iron Mountain City, Tioneen, Myto sector

Brigadier Gould entered the room with a slight grimace on his face. This was meeting he had been dreading since the invitation had appeared on his PAD. A pair of Thermchairs were seated with a lovely view of the mountain the capital city was built upon. Why the original colonists had chosen the top of a mountain for Tioneen's capital was beyond him. Tech-swing rhythms of Gliz filled the room from a music player in the corner. The humor of the choice of music by the occupant was not lost on Gould.

"Ah Brigadier Gould! Glad you could make it. Come have a seat."

Sitting in one of those chairs was one unpleasant Commander Glitz. The time they had spent together on the same planet had only worsened their relationship over time. The two of them just ran in different circles. Glitz preferred sending his troopers on errands for politicians and officials as toy soldiers. While Gould's Army troopers got stuck doing the hard patrols and manning the remote outposts. Doing the drudge work did make him valuable and favored by the higher ups who thought boots were for walking, not shining. When it came to for favors to be earned and honors to be won like capturing that ore smuggling ring, the two of them usually wound up competing with each other.

"Just pour me a drink and get to the point Commander, I have reports and maybe some sleep tonight to get back too."

Commander Glitz was famous for his Drink Cabinet. Many of Tioneen's movers and shakers in the past have been in his quarters to sample his collection of exotic tipple. Combined with hawking his recommendations "from a proper Stormtrooper" for their kids to Stormtrooper academies like two Credit scrapple and the man had acquired all sorts of fair-weather friends in high places. That fame was part of the reason he didn't expect to be poisoned. It would do more damage to Glitz's reputation than Gould's insides.

"Right… right. Let me fill your glass."

A short, distinct sound of a plastene bottle hitting the table drew Gould's focus. Was that Prakix Plonk? He glanced down at the now 4 bottles in a plastiflex crate that lay in the shadow of Commander Glitz's chair like a blanket with an inconvenient pattern. That applewine from Prakix Minor competed with Yuleis Gin at every bawdy cantina in the sector. He'd caught more than one of his men bringing a bottle back to base after a night of leave. Was this what Commander Glitz's famed hospitality amounted to? Is this a dig at how lowly Gould is compared to him? Gould was worth at least some Chimbak. He must have not hid his feelings very well as Glitz actually attempted to look bashful.

"My apologies, between the Auditors coming for the Court and panic sweeping through my ranks I was forced to, heh, liquidate. Too many favors being called in below and not enough favors up top survived."

Oh. Oh frak. That might have been the first sincere statement Gould has ever heard from the Glitz. If his vaunted drinks had to be sold things must be dire for him. Governor Gurter's removal along with his sycophants must have devastated his revenue and reserves. The Plonk is probably just to mimic his previous trappings rather than an insult. At least Glitz had the decency to cover his men's debts at his own cost. Those toy soldiers probably racked up some serious debts prancing around the upper quarters. Even if it was likely to keep them fron squealing to the Auditors.

Not like Gould was doing much better in the financial department. Commodore Xecel had gone silent and the "contributions" to "maintain his troops' readiness" had dried up. If the commodore's mugshot was not on the evening news in the coming weeks he would eat his kepi. Luckily he only had assist with some cantina tabs, Sabacc debts, and a dowry from his subordinates. Would have been easier on his accounts if everyone was not terrified of any appearance of impropriety and an Auditor's condemnation. It made those that were owed rush to those up the chain to claim what they could while their patrons still held on to their lofty positions. Auditors had taken the traditional Imperial networks of patronage and thrown them out the airlock.

"Auditors have hit Imperial wealth hard. Quotas are only making things worse with how tightly production and distribution is being watched."

Not that Gould was selling "excess" like some of his peers. Part of what had made him valued to his patrons was that his troops actually received the supplies they were sent on paper. Worries about being able to respond to a potential miner strike caused by the Quota also dissuaded him from dipping into his unit's reserves. Properly equipped troopers and being on friendly terms with them were a commodity in a galaxy where commanders lined their pockets with their troops' equipment.

Seeking to profit from keeping his troops at high readiness saved his head when the Auditors descended upon Tioneen for readiness inspections. If inspections of barracks and quartermasters were found lacking, the Auditors made sure the commanders responsible paid for it with either their freedom or their life, never settling for mere Credits. Not that those charged kept a hold on their little nest eggs for long when put in front of a grim faced judge.

"You don't know the half of it. I have been reaching out after the Governor's arrest for new revenue streams. Even went as far as reaching out to some of my contacts in the Mid Rim. It is chaos out there Brigadier Gould. Everyone is too busy hiding their assets from the Quota and withdrawing to their strongholds to expand their networks."

Now that is a dangerous admission. It was one thing to sell out within the sector, another to sell out outside. If it was a big fish like the ISB one could argue they were intimidated and be relatively fine. However if you got caught taking money from a potential rival Moff, Mola's men would be asking you some very insistent questions in a very remote location. Still, if no one is aiming for the prestige of having a bunch of Stormtroopers on side, things must be getting bad. Gould's poison testers in his gloves came back clean as he traced his finger along the top of the wine glass more out of habit than suspicion.

"So what does that have to do with me? I doubt you called me here for a shoulder to cry on while we sip cantina swill."

That was a bit overly harsh to the taste of Prakix Plonk. Gould brought the drink to his lips and tasted the familiar sweetness of Almakian apple paired well with the earthy undertones of the sugar beets used in the drink's making. There was a reason Plonk was able to compete with Yuleis Gin for the most common local alcohol in the sector. However it was obvious to even the most inexperienced connoisseur of wines that the Prakix Winemakers Association was choosing mass production over individual quality. They were really living up to their motto. If we cannot make a vintage worth a world, then let us douse the stars with our product.

"No I would call my ex-wife if I wanted an unsympathetic ear. Rather I was hoping to discuss a possible partnership."

What's this? Is the pretentiousness finally wearing off on old Glitz? Probably not. There has to be some sort of trick in this offer. No matter how much Glitz stroked that impeccable mustache of his. Not enough Credits for fancy drinks but he still had enough for mustache care at the very least. However Gould was a bit of free agent now, so it wouldn't hurt to hear him out. If only to have something to compare other offers to. Gould made a gesture to explain without any indication of agreement.

"All this business of turmoil, the Quota, and chaos seems to indicate things are coming to a head. What head I am unsure. Maybe the Empire abandons the Outer Rim to concentrate on the Core. Maybe the Emperor comes along and removes Moff Mola from office. Maybe sectors start warring with each other and Vader comes to burn them all down. Either way both of us are unlikely to pick a winner for a new patron until whatever catastrophe is coming happens.

Therefore I propose we combine our efforts of enhancing the value of our forces. The new Governor is Moff Mola's lackey and is still trying to clean up after Gurter. As long as we keep our troops in top shape, she'll be too busy with the Quota to complain about any collusion between us. If anything she'll be happy we are settling our differences rather than giving her a headache by going after each other. We keep our troops' noses to the grindstone so whomever is left after the dust settles finds us an asset rather than a liability."

It wasn't too bad of a plan. Gould was more of a passive when looking for patrons. He was better at focusing on making his command valuable than hyping himself up to others. The addition of Stormtroopers would increase his marketability dramatically. It was an unfortunate fact that patrons valued white helmets over trooper headwear any day. Not to mention any miner strikes would fold quite quickly if Gould could have a few whities prance about in front of them.

Still, better not to appear too willing to team up with this laserbrain. Lest Glitz think him a lackey instead of a partner. Which means it is time to extract some concessions. If only to justify having to look at his face more often. Got to show this will be a shared command rather than the traditional hierarchy between grunts and elites.

"You're going to be giving some of my boys some of those cozy shifts in Mountain City? Got to have something to show to my troops for agreeing to this. Also we got to arrange some joint exercises. Real ones. Can't have us Army do all the work if the bolts start flying."

Now let's see what riposte Gli…

"Done."

Wait just like that? No smarmy comment? No pushback or counteroffer? Where did the slimy nerfherder that schmoozed with Governor Gurter's worst go? Where was the fire and desire to be the one every fop and dandy went to when they needed a favor? Taking another look, Gould noted that Glitz's clothes looked a bit ruffled and his impeccable mustache wasn't so impeccable anymore. Had he hitched himself to the wrong Eopie?

"There is just one additional condition…"

Oh here we go. Glitz had Gould going for a minute there. This was obviously some kind of negotiating trick. Alright let's see what "surprise" the slimy wino had in store. Why the man actually had the gall to look pensive.

"My son recently flunked out of Stormtrooper academy. With everything that is happening, I couldn't get the funds there to make his most recent mistake go away. Ex-wife isn't even responding to mine or even his calls. The Empire won't let him leave the service and they are going to put him in the Imperial Army.

If I pull the remaining strings and get him assigned here, can you put him in your unit? Just. Try to keep him safe, but make sure to make him strong. Strong enough to survive whatever is coming."

Ok now Gould has no idea what to think. Was this like offering a political hostage to tie their two factions together? A way to assure that Glitz was taking their partnership seriously? The Commander's face bore none of arrogance Gould expected and had more resemblance to a distraught Sabacc player who just lost a substantial amount of Credits to the Hutts. Either Glitz is serious or is pulling one heck of an act, and Gould wasn't sure which.

Frak it, just take the win Gould and move on. Rather than a verbal agreement Gould merely gestured for more Plonk. Glitz took the now empty bottle and set it next to a sibling next his chair that Gould just noticed. Another bottle was taken from the plastiflex crate leaving 3 bottles remaining. Both of them clinked their refilled glass together and silently watched the moon as Gliz reverberated from the walls, expecting the celestial body to come crashing down at any moment.

——

A little Omake showing a patching up of one small portion of the ongoing trainwreck that is the Imperial Military's unofficial patronage system. If only due to lack of patrons on account of everyone local being scared of the Auditors and everyone else worrying about the Quotas. That's not to say these two are shining beacons of Imperial integrity. Gould and Glitz would definitely be waging a mini civil war against each other on Tioneen in their patrons' name post-Endor if things were business as usual.

I swear I didn't intend at first to have the previously smarmy wine snob Glitz transform into divorced depressed wino dad. I even gave him this hoity toity voice in my head while writing him. It was just how the character ended up reacting after everything went wrong for him and having to sacrifice everything to maintain his official position. Glitz is not doing well mentally, familialy, or financially in this Omake. His status and assets have taken a blow and a lot of people who know of him would say he deserved it.

Also yes I know the existence of sugar beets in Star Wars has specifically been declared non-canon. However I am already writing for fanfiction and I want my sweet beets gosh darn it. Figured the cantinas around the sector could use another swill to throw at drunks and having a planet dedicated to exporting the equivalent of cheap apple wine to the wider sector seemed an interesting premise. Between Prakix Minor and Yuleis, the masses of the Myto Sector have the choice of earthy apple wine or citrusy legume gin for cheap local alcohols.

Finally here is the Plonk recipe and some math I intended for another Omake before rolling Prakix Plonk into this one:

Plonk recipe:

Almakian apple juice
buckwheat yeast
Tannin from Almakian apple tree leaves
Sugar primarily from sugar beets

Full bottle of wine: 2.65 pounds filled with 755 ml of wine

Full barrel of wine: 600 pounds for a 60 gallon barrel

2000 pounds in a ton

2204 pounds in a metric ton

Light Freighters have around 85-135 metric tons of cargo space so good estimate is ~100 metric tons

Result: hundreds of plastene barrels (300+) or 80,000+ bottles containing thousands of gallons of Plonk per light freighter or an estimated 1400+ daily sales of a small cantina in alcohol or enough for the light freighter to keep 20+ small cantinas supplied with cheap alcohol on tap in a two month regular circuit.

Crossposted on SB and SV

Freefaller · Oct 16, 2026

CHISS ASCENDANCY INTELLIGENCE DIRECTORATE | STRATEGIC DOSSIER ON THE MYTO SECTOR

DOCUMENT SUMMARY | Comprehensive Intelligence Compilation and Regional Risk Assessment
ISSUING AUTHORITY | Directorate of Intelligence, External Operations Bureau
AUTHORIZATION | Chiss Ascendancy High Command / Expansionary Defense Fleet
CLASSIFICATION | Restricted Ascendancy Intelligence Data

Executive Overview and Administrative Context
This document comprises an intelligence compilation prepared by the Chiss Ascendancy government. Primary data was furnished by Agent Brocso'ior'ovinor acting as our principal and sole operative embedded within the Myto Sector. Supplementary contextual intelligence was integrated from secondary field assets operating across various Imperial territories. Recent regional developments indicate a marked economic surge driven by the administrative elevation of Moff Las Mola. However this localized boom remains heavily pressured by the wider financial contraction affecting the Galactic Empire as a whole.

Macroeconomic Forecasts and Imperial Stability
Ascendancy economic analysts have evaluated the current financial turbulence within Imperial space. While structural strain is palpable, specialized models project that the present economic strife will likely stabilize before the conclusion of the next six months. Early indicators reveal that central authorities are successfully reigning in panicking financial markets and reinforcing administrative command over volatile sectors. Consequently, systemic economic failure in the immediate term remains improbable.

Intelligence Operative Status and Local Counter-Intelligence Dynamics
Field telemetry concerning Agent Brocso'ior'ovinor reveals a highly delicate operational environment within Myto administration circles.

Moff Las Mola possesses definitive knowledge that the operative engages in foreign espionage.
It is unknown if the Moff is aware of who the operative works for, but it must be assumed local security and espionage forces loyal to the Moff are aware of the operative.
Intelligence handlers must assume that the operative operates under active electronic and physical surveillance at all times.
Despite this recognized threat profile, the Moff deliberately permits her unhindered access to classified technological acquisitions.
Behavioral profiling experts attribute this calculated indifference either to profound administrative apathy or a pragmatic desire to avoid provoking an unknown foreign entity by moving against her.
A supplementary psychological evaluation notes a minor theoretical risk that the operative could develop personal sentiments toward the sector, though her absolute institutional loyalty to the Ascendancy remains beyond reproach.

Technological Acquisitions and Engineering Advancements
The material intelligence and data packages exfiltrated by Agent Brocso'ior'ovinor have provided extraordinary value to Ascendancy research and development divisions.

Recovered intelligence regarding advanced Imperial metallurgy has significantly deepened our understanding of high stress alloy composition.
Technical blueprints concerning the TIE-W Whirlwind starfighter platform have introduced radical conceptual frameworks to our own aerospace engineering corps.
- Design teams have already begun adapting several structural and performance innovations inspired by the Whirlwind into experimental Ascendancy craft development.

Geopolitical Projections and Long-Term Strategic Options
Looking past immediate operational horizons, Ascendancy predictive models forecast a distinct probability that the Galactic Empire will experience catastrophic internal fragmentation within the next two decades. Based on these projections, Agent Brocso'ior'ovinor has formally petitioned Ascendancy leadership to evaluate provisional support measures for the Myto Sector.

In the event of Imperial collapse, a nurtured Myto Sector would emerge as a stable, friendly breakaway state primed for immediate diplomatic alliance and economic partnership.
If the central Imperial government successfully survives its current crises, the sector presents a unique opportunity. It stands as our most viable beta environment for introducing ideological influence aimed at fostering a less xenophobic cultural shift within Imperial society, though this outcome remains statistically remote.

Primary Strategic Apprehensions
Despite potential diplomatic avenues, Ascendancy high command harbors profound security concerns regarding long term regional stability. The central institutional fear centers upon Imperial military ambitions. Once the central government successfully pacifies internal insurgencies and eliminates the Rebel Alliance, leadership anticipates that the aggressive expansionist agenda of the Emperor will inevitably pivot toward the Unknown Regions and the borders of the Chiss Ascendancy. All diplomatic and material overtures toward the Myto Sector must therefore be weighed carefully against these overarching defense priorities.

Potential Covert Aid Options

It is the opinion of the Intelligence Directorate that the Ascendency should approve covert aid to the Myto Sector to ensure its stability in the current economic strife. While economic analysis indicates the sector will survive, it will be noticeably economically weakened, leaving it vulnerable to future economic strife or other crises.

If the Myto Sector is to become a lynchpin of Ascendency covert ops and potential alliance, it cannot be allowed to fall. As such, economic analysts have prepared the following potential operations that could be executed in a short, near-future timeframe.

Cyber-Sabotage: While operatives have not managed to infiltrate higher division of the Imperial government outside of the Myto Sector, assets within the Imperial government have been acquired through standard methods such as bribery. Utilizing mid-tier bureaucratic assets, it would be possible to cybernetically infiltrate certain systems and delay/corrupt Myto Sector reports while pushing the blame onto old systems and incompetent middlemen. Therefore reducing the amount of pressure on the sector.
Predictive Report Measures: Utilizing Agent Brocso'ior'ovinor's position as head of Sector Acquisitions, the Ascendency can utilize its intelligence network to feed the Myto Sector advantageous acquisition opportunities that it otherwise might not have known about. This will allow the sector to gain access to expanded industrial and military capabilities in the short term, alleviating some pressure.

–

A look at what the Chiss have been up to with all this info. It should be noted they don't have a complete picture or perfect understanding of what's going on. For example, they are overestimating how far the Empire would last, since they don't know the Death Star is under construction again. If they knew that, they might revise their analysis to a shorter or longer lifetime for the Empire depending on whether or not they believe the Death Star would either create more opposition against the Empire or cement its rule.

Next chapter will be on Saturday at the latest.

–Freefaller

TheManW/oAPlan · Oct 16, 2026

Inbredmartian said:
If the Executor survives it could lead to the funniest thing imaginable where Las sends Luke all of Darth Vaders personal effects as his next of Kin. Would be a funny as hell WTF for everyone as how in the hell did Las know Vader was Luke's dad?!

Omake: Vader may not approve of the punchlines, but Anakin does

"Master Skywalker?" a person who looked far too official asked. Luke did not need the force to see that this was going to be a headache. Half the time, he understood Han's preference for a blaster. While shooting your problems was not always the best solution, there was a certain catharsis too it. That, and the imperial remnants somehow still had a large manufacturing base.

"Yes, who are you and why are you here?" Luke asked, silently hoping that this would not cause another headache.

"I am an envoy of Moff Mola. To the purpose, you and Miss Organa or, I apologize, Mrs. Solo, are the only known heirs of Darth Vader. As such, we have an executor-class star destroyer, 6 Tie defender squadrons, 24 Tie interceptor squadrons, 12 Tie advance squadrons, 24 Tie fighter Squadrons, 24 Tie bomber squadrons and associated support staff droids, fuel and monies and personal effects" the man said. Luke blinked.

"Please tell me Han put you up to this?" Luke asked.

"I assume you refer to Captain Solo? Anyways, you being Vader's son was one of the worst kept secrets in the Imperial Navy. He let you blow up the death star. He only seriously started hunting the Rebels once he realized you were there, to the point where he ordered more Imperial probe droids in one swoop than the prior ten years combined.

"WAIT WHAT!?" Han exclaimed.

"Wait, is that why..." Wedge asked.

"Wait a minute, was Endor really just a bad reunion for you?" Mothma asked.

"....I did not even know he was my dad until cloud city," Luke said, wondering why this mattered now. Vader was dead, and they had somehow acquired a large amount of Imperial munitions. Luke was beginning to spiral a bit, so Mothma tried to redirect with humor.

"You know, in hind sight that makes a lot of sense. It would explain why the intelligence reports stated he liked all of his food luke-warm," Mothma added, trying to bring some levity to the situation.

"That would also explain the amount of time you choked asking girls out," Wedge added, feeling the need to needle Luke a bit.

"That was one of the most shocking moments of my life, and I lost my hand learning that. I am happy it amuses you," Luke tersely replied, acting a bit like his father.

"Don't tell me, you got our birthday gifts at the Darkside Mall?" Han added. No one thought that one was funny, so Luke ignored it along with everyone else.

"Ok, but this seems odd. Vader had known of me at least since Yavin. Why is an admittedly successful Moth just giving literal tons of Imperial hardware to his presumable enemies?" Luke asked the obvious question, trying to bring the conversation back to normal. Even with Han's fumble though, the peanut gallery was not letting this one go.

"Eh, who cares? I suspected Luke, but Leah was kind of shocking. I guess he was looking in Al-der-an places," Wedge jibed.

"Someone slap him," Leah said, slightly sore over her home planet being destroyed. Han obliged her, and Wedge let out a brief "OW!".

"I do kind of wonder what you two got him for his birthday. I bet he could sense your presents," Mothma wyrly added.

"It would also explain why Leah likes her toast on the darker side," Han commented. Leah and Luke just looked at each other. They had enough of this. Though they appreciated what their friends were trying to do, they wanted this conversation to end.

"I guess we'll just wait for Intel to analyze it?" Luke offered.

"No, we are just going to randomly accept tons of gifts without looking it over. Of course intel will analyze it" Wedge commented, and then the conversation went back to something approaching normal.

Freefaller · Oct 19, 2026

Chp-127

Las
4.1 ABY
Minda

I paced back and forth across my office, counting and recounting every step of my plan.

"I've got the papers, the outfit, the routes…ship is hidden and ready, got the money ready…"

My escape plan was almost upon me. I wasn't exactly sure when in 4 ABY the Battle of Endor would occur, but I knew it was early in the year. I had to be ready.

"Your frantic antics annoy me, peasant. Cease at once." Myr'thos called out from across the room, though their eyes stayed focused on the holo-projector before them. They were all in on fighting the newest hero in that game they were addicted too, For Glory or something.

"But what if something goes wrong? I have to be prepared for everything! I've been waiting too long…"

"Cease your blabbering! The plan will be executed without fail. You have dragged me along for those annoying joyrides of yours for too long to fail."

Before I could respond, a small rubber ball bounced off my head. Turning to the side, I could see Mugwuffin laying atop her cat-tower with one eye open, looking at me.

Relaxation

I sighed. "...I suppose you're not entirely wrong. Its just…I've waited so long for this! I can rest knowing its so close."

"Then you are simply weak. But within you lies the potential for strength. Become stronger, and you will have no worries, such as myself." Myr'those had turned to look at me, something approximating warmth coloring their tone. "Though none could ever achieve my perfection, of course.

I felt my lips curl into a small smile. Who knew they had it in them. Then I looked at the game they were playing.

"Didn't know perfection could go 1-4 in a match."

Their head whipped back around to the projector, lips curling into a snarl.

"These honorless curs! They play the new hero and spam their kriffing stance changes and call me a 'noob' when they have AUTO DODGE! They have no skill!"

The screen flashed red as they lost, and the controller went flying into the adjacent wall, smashing into a million pieces.

I could see the look on their face, and I knew damn well the next thing to come out of the Sith's mouth would be a list of every slur every in existence, and a dictionary's worth of ones that hadn't been used since 4000 years ago.

And I couldn't have them saying that shit. They were so loud my bodyguard stormtroopers stationed outside the office could hear. And one of them broke down crying last week because of the same shit.

"Alright, let's go get some lunch, yeah? I heard the cafeteria lady has a new smoothie recipe."

The look on Myr'thos's face went from enraged to curious. "Hmm…the pantoran…her last recipe was almost passable. Let us see if she has evolved her craft, or if she has stagnated since I last spoke with her."

"Spoke with her?" I said as we moved from the office to the elevator. "You didn't 'speak with her', you gave her a lecture. With slides!"

They quirked an eyebrow, leaning against the soft padded wall of the elevator while I pressed the button. "Of all the cretins in existence, you above all may not speak to me of slides and lectures."

I raised a finger to respond, before giving it a second thought. "I…well, I guess it was pretty well put together and educational. You even cited your sources."

They turned their nose up at me. "Of course! I would not deny the great masters of the art their due credit."

Our banter continued until we reached the station's mess hall. Well, one of its mess halls. The station had grown a few times as time passed, with modules being added on as more personnel were needed.

Thankfully, the subsector moving capital project had pulled off some of the strain, and left the station with an empty module.

I'd had it converted into an indoor garden some six months ago or so. Apart from the fresher air it produced spreading throughout the station, it had reportedly reduced worker stress noticeably!

It would be nice to visit if I ever got the time.

Within the mess hall, the atmosphere was light and relaxing. Warm lighting and darker faux-wood wall paneling really sold the vibe.

Long tables lay in the main room while the food counter sat to the left, a full kitchen hidden behind it. To the sides and corners of the room lay a bevy of reading alcoves and smaller private dining nooks meant for 2-4 people.

Across the hall lay the game room, featuring a full arcade and holo-game cabinet (Myr'thos held all the high scores) and various larger tables for games of sabacc and similar. Though gambling with credits wasn't allowed, so people gambled with sweets as those were rationed due to the higher and higher import cost.

On the walls sat various pieces of art. From sculptures and metallic works to paintings, tapestries and murals. Each one created by a person on the station, each one voted on by the people of the station. The winner got to have their piece on the mantle above the fireplace, with the other pieces scattered across the station to spruce things up. Then each piece got rotated around over the next few months, and when the year was up new pieces were made and new votes were cast.

And yes, it was a real fireplace. It added to the ambiance, even if accommodating one on a space station isn't the cheapest of things.

The hall itself was relatively full this time of day, with about half of all the seats taken and a dozen or so people waiting at the food counter.

No one really reacted to my presence beyond the obligatory salutes, and even then those were the quicker and more casual kind. I was a regular visitor to the mess hall, after all.

Back when I was just a Governor, I worked far longer hours and ate in my office. Now that I was only working a measly 50 hours a week, I had the time for a short lunch break every day.

When it finally came my turn at the food counter, I didn't have to ask for anything. The pantoran woman behind the counter, Teeyox Chora, had already placed a steaming plate of food down.

"Verndari vine-snake noodle soup, newest in the kitchen. And I opted for a glass of cold chocolate milk to counterbalance the heat. It's quite spicy." The soup smelled amazing and was a vibrant green you only ever saw in hair and on screens, while the milk was perfectly mixed, just how I liked it.

"Wonderful work as always, thank you Ms. Chora." I picked up the plate, careful to balance the liquids as I made my way over to an empty table.

I was the kind to have a 'regular' order by any means. Generally, I ordered what I felt like ordering. However, if anything new was ever added to the menu, then I always tried it. Food was half the reason I wanted to travel the galaxy. There were so many cultures and places with undeniably incredible foods just waiting for me to try them.

And a glass of chocolate milk was always my drink of choice, no matter the meal. Even if the meal went better with a different drink, then I'd have my milk as a second drink regardless. It was usually hot, but with new dishes I left it up to the chef's discretion.

From where I was sat, I could see Myr'thos trying Teeyox's newest drink. She was clearly nervous even if she hid it well. But after a long sip, the Sith nodded.

"A noticeable improvement, apprentice mine. The rox-berry mixes well with the…"

I stopped paying attention as they launched into another lecture about everything the drink did well and poorly. Apparently the biggest blunder had something to do with the angle of the spoon when stirring?

Regardless, I focused on the meal before me. Thick noodles of green meat were intertwined with a plant-noodle of some kind, the latter holding the former together. Each was thick enough to only allow one to be slurped, and even then I had to bite them for they were too long. But the taste was divine, like ramen noodles and hamburger meat had a baby.

As I ate the delicious meal, taking sips of my milk whenever the spice got to be too much, I looked around the mess hall.

Despite ostensibly being the center of the sector's Imperial governance, nothing about it seemed Imperial at all.

Aliens mingled with humans openly, though most of the aliens were near-humans of some kind or another. I could get around Imperial regulations only so much, after all.

Yet the atmosphere lacked the almost background radiation-like effect the average Imperial installation gave off. Every time I'd been in an Imperial base outside the sector it felt like I was being constantly watched, as though the walls were slowly closing in on me.

Sterile yet hungry.

And as I looked around, my mind wandered off to my escape plan, as it always did.

I would go out on one of my 'joyrides' near the asteroid belt with accompanying TIE fighters as normal. Myr'thos, as normal, would try to goad me into going faster. This time I'd say yes, if only to get them to stop pestering me about it. This would happen on an open channel so the escorts could hear.

Then, I'd 'accidentally' go too fast, eject alongside Myr'thos and Mugwuffin, and let the ship slam into an asteroid. I even packed some extra explosives in the cockpit so the destruction would ensure no one went looking for a body.

After that, the three of us would spacewalk over to my hidden freighter and make our getaway to Nar Shaddaa, where I would undergo some sneaky facial reconstruction surgery and get my burn scar cosmetically fixed, before leaving the crime-ridden moon a new man!

Specifically, a new man named Venatorus Sanctimo, traveler extraordinaire. After that, I'd adventure across the galaxy in search of new and interesting places, meeting new people, eating new foods, doing new things!

And when I was older, or simply had my fill of adventure, I'd settle down in whatever the most stable government around is and open a trading company running safe, local routes somewhere in the nicer side of the mid-rim.

All while leaving the galaxy to blow itself up on its own terms.

Myr'thos and Mugwuffin eventually joined me at the table, Myr'thos chewing on some jerky they got addicted to and Mugwuffin stuffing her face full of a barbequed shakk steak.

We passed the time talking and bantering and overall relaxing. It was a nice thing, something I hadn't expected to have at all during my time under Imperial employment.

Eventually we finished, and Myr'thos decided to go spend time in the training room, as they'd heard Grant had returned from her most recent clean up job and they wanted a spar.

I contemplated heading back to the office, but decided to make a detour first. I hadn't ever visited the garden after all, and since I didn't know exactly when Endor would happen I might not have another chance.

Another elevator ride later and I was standing inside the garden. It used to be a series of offices and bunks, but without any need for the personnel the entire thing was retrofitted to be a little nature reserve of sorts.

Plants from across the sector sat in their own shelves under warm lights. Each biome and planet had its own dedicated room, with places to sit and plaques to read up on the worlds the environments came from.

I took my time, reading each one while Mugwuffin sniffed around.

Eventually, I reached one of the larger rooms. This one dedicated to the Verndari environment.

The air was noticeably more humid, though atmospheric technology meant the paths between the plants were kept at a nicer temperature. The benefits of 25k years of technological advance.

It was easily the tallest room in the garden, having previously been a cargo/storage area. Tall trees lined the edges with vibes and greenery blanketing the floors around the path.

Without a doubt, the garden was beautiful. To think I might've missed this…a shame that it might be destroyed come the Warlord era…

And that got me thinking…it really was a shame, wasn't it? I didn't know how things would go down exactly in the sector once I was gone.

One might think the Velcar Sector and their free commerce zone bullshit might take over. It was a major power bloc in the Pentastar Alignment I remembered from old sourcebooks in my old life.

But with the Guild, HAVEN, etc…there was no shot they'd have any real power. Still, the Alignment was just the Empire 2.0 in most ways that mattered. The only real difference was more non-humans in the army and noticeably more corporate power.

What would become of them…and did I care?

I mean, it's not my problem anymore, right? I did my job, and I did it real well despite the fact that I never wanted it at all.

Again, I looked around the garden. Vibrant greenery dotting every corner. Between the moss, I could spot a painting. One of the many dotting the walls of the station.

It wasn't complicated. An artistic rendition of Accordia from the Mandalorian plateau just outside the city. It was painted in abstract, streaks of light and shadows that hinted at concrete shapes but never committed. Almost like the dream of a city.

Only two things were obvious, clear, or held any real coherence.

The Midnight Accord, running through the city, gleamings its myriad colors.

And the Imperial Tower. The only clean lines in the entire painting, stark against a fluid background. Almost oppressive, but not quite. Held back by the waving banners flowing down its form and the glow of the stars behind it.

I built that. Not just me, of course. Countless people built that. And I was one of them.

A voice broke me from my thoughts. Turning, I saw past the trees a figure sitting on a bench.

It was a man. I didn't recognize him, though from his voice I knew he was a clone. There was a solid population on Ugea, after all. You got used to the voice.

"It's a girl!" he spoke, cradling his PDA in his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks. "It's a girl, and there's nothing wrong with her! She's healthy!" The tears were accompanied with choked sobs of relief as he recorded the message. It could only be a message, since off-system communications weren't allowed through non-monitored channels.

But I could vaguely recall what he was talking about. Clone populations in Ugea struggled with having children. They were too old, their advanced aging taking a toll. Genetic treatments and fertility medicine allowed for it, but even then it wasn't guaranteed. A good chunk of the kids came out with one genetic defect or another. 12% died within the first 24 hours.

Clone genetics were just too complex. Whatever black magic the Kaminoans pulled to do it, we couldn't replicate, much less predict the effects on their children.

"And we're going to name her Chip…after the squad lead, y'know? Gotta honor our brother…" he wiped the tears from his face with a hand. "She's got my eyes, but her mothers nose, and let me tell you she's a fighter! Always slapping hands with people! Just like Chip. She'll grow into a fine soldier, or whatever she chooses, one day."

I backed away slowly from the scene, feeling fairly awkward standing there listening to this guy cry.

Yet, once I was out of the room, I couldn't get my mind off of him.

His kid would grow up healthy and safe. She would have a bevy of opportunities before her in life. With the systems I'd helped build, she would have the world to explore to her hearts content.

If it survived.

If it wasn't torn down.

If, if, if…

Before I knew it, I was back at my office, sitting at my desk. My hands were moving as though on autopilot.

I wasn't giving up on leaving. I'd done my part.

But maybe I could give the sector a few more advantages before I left.

–

Yo. Was originally gonna have him track down the ruins of the Arc Hammer and have Guild personnel S.T.E.A.L its ruins for study but after reading up on the wiki it seems the Arc Hammers location was kept ultra secret and Katarn only managed to get to it by sneaking on board the Executor.

I'll figure something else out for him to S.T.E.A.L for the next chapter. Suggestions are welcome as always.

Thanks so much for reading!

-Freefaller.

Governor's Gambit - Star Wars SI into Imperial Governor

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Not too sore, are you?

Not too sore, are you?

Not too sore, are you?

[ HoloNet App: MytoSphere / Current Region: Myto Sector ]

[ Comments Section ]

[ Forum: Myto-ISC-Grid / Sub-Board: Strike-Team-Discoveries ]

[ Forum Thread ]

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Experienced War criminal

Not too sore, are you?

Not too sore, are you?

OFFICIAL SECTOR ADVISORY | MSD-R&D-DENIED-9914

Not too sore, are you?

OFFICIAL SECTOR ADVISORY | MSD-R&D-ACTIVE-0412

I trust you know where the happy button is?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Not too sore, are you?

ALLIANCE INTELLIGENCE | TIDE SQUADRON THREAT ASSESSMENT DOSSIER

Not too sore, are you?

IMPERIAL NAVAL BUREAU | WHIRLWIND TECHNICAL EVALUATION DOSSIER

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Not too sore, are you?

Not too sore, are you?

IMPERIAL NAVAL BUREAU | DREADNOUGHT-II TECHNICAL EVALUATION DOSSIER

Not too sore, are you?

IMPERIAL ARMY BUREAU | STORMWALKER TECHNICAL EVALUATION DOSSIER

Not too sore, are you?

Not too sore, are you?

Getting sticky.

Not too sore, are you?

Not too sore, are you?

Not too sore, are you?

Not too sore, are you?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Not too sore, are you?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Not too sore, are you?

CHISS ASCENDANCY INTELLIGENCE DIRECTORATE | STRATEGIC DOSSIER ON THE MYTO SECTOR

Getting sticky.

Not too sore, are you?