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Governor's Gambit - Star Wars SI into Imperial Governor

Reader mode
Knight Sovereign said:
"Like I said, kids are cruel, Rebel Scum. And I'm very much in touch with my inner child."



Do you think there is a way to have the TIE/D Automated Fighter also have a "Walk Mode" or "Gound Mode" like the Vulture Droid?
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Very easily done, just turn the two ion solar wings into 4 and put the Vulture's quad wing joints in.
 
Lokabrenna said:
Honestly, the more I look at the story and characters, i.e. single male MC surrounded by a growing collection of presumably attractive women - including three sisters - all of whom like him to one degree or another, the more convinced I am that OP did this on purpose. I just can't tell whether it was done to lay actual groundwork for sexy times ahead, or if it's all just an elaborate tease.
Click to expand...
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Bit of both maybe? Tho sexy times would only be implied since op is posting to sb and sv as well, fade to black at most
 
Andrew1993 said:
Bit of both maybe? Tho sexy times would only be implied since op is posting to sb and sv as well, fade to black at most
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...

Ah, so probably no sister-route outside of omakes then, unless he wants to post an entire alternate version here on QQ.

I'm pretty sure even non-explicit, implied incest would get your story locked and/or banned on either SV or SB, considering what happened to Brosef's excellent Warhammer 30k fic on SB (Brosef was basically harassed into quitting the story by readers playing moral police, and mods in a moral panic over potential incest - when nothing of the sort had even happened yet in the story, and was only implied by the story's title).
 
I just had a thought, the MC is like Ciaphus Cain isn't he? His luck just translate's to Administration not the Battlefield. Although... now that I think about it, if you squint you could also say that Administration is also a kinda Battlefield 🤔
 
WerewolfEros said:
I just had a thought, the MC is like Ciaphus Cain isn't he? His luck just translate's to Administration not the Battlefield. Although... now that I think about it, if you squint you could also say that Administration is also a kinda Battlefield 🤔
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Administration and politics, especially the cutthroat politics of the Galactic Empire where Army and Navy officers constantly squabble for better postings while Moffs and Grand Moffs range from lazy decadence to unrepentant racists to even absolute control freaks.
 
Lokabrenna said:
Ah, so probably no sister-route outside of omakes then, unless he wants to post an entire alternate version here on QQ.

I'm pretty sure even non-explicit, implied incest would get your story locked and/or banned on either SV or SB, considering what happened to Brosef's excellent Warhammer 30k fic on SB (Brosef was basically harassed into quitting the story by readers playing moral police, and mods in a moral panic over potential incest - when nothing of the sort had even happened yet in the story, and was only implied by the story's title).
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Maybe, would be funny at any rate even if it is only on qq
 
Chp-41: Cultists are Wack, Man
Chp-41: Cultists are Wack, Man

Seventh Brother
Edin System, Highreach, Dala Canyon

Above the sprawling canyon range, Seventh hovered in his Whirlwind. The recently named Obsidian Talon painted a sleek black with sharp red lines cutting through the design. It had been modified to his tastes, sporting more powerful engines, shields, weapons, and a class 1 hyperdrive.

This refit had come at some costs, however. The inertial dampener and flight guidance computers had been replaced. Now, the dampener was smaller, capable of only 50% of the previous model's abilities, while the guidance system was removed entirely.

He had the Force, and therefore no need for such things.

But now, he was hovering, tracking the distinct scent of the Dark Side as yet another transport of Wretches made their escape.

This time, he intended to find their location.

With careful maneuvering, he made his way down into the canyon, rotating wings allowing him to make far tighter turns.

Soon, the scent disappeared into a cave, and he knew he had arrived. Setting down the Obsidian Talon some distance away, he got out. His outfit was modified, sporting less armor plating for more fabrics. This softened the sounds he made.

Slowly but surely, he approached the cave from the side, sticking to the darkest of the night's shadows.

He could feel the Dark Side around him, in him, a beast. But he muzzled it, caged it, and quieted his soul. For all that he wanted to lash out, the situation did not call for it.

His prowess with a lightsaber or the more violent aspects of the Force had always been lesser than that of his colleagues. However, his connection with the more esoteric side, combined with his patience, allowed him to maneuver in different directions than the other inquisitors.

While the others like Marrok or Trilla had gained their positions through strength and cunning, respectively, he had maintained his lower level through mediocrity. He always ensured that he was good enough to keep around, but not so good that he would be thrown aside.

A balance only obtainable because of his patience. Because he was willing to let others pass to ensure his own survival.

If he succeeded here, it would certainly be a boon and raise him back up into his middle rank. He had gotten cocky on his last mission, and his failure almost cost him his life.

Not here. Success was survival, failure was death, and he had not put in so much work to live as long as he had in the Inquisition just to die here.

Slinking into the cave, he activated his helmet's night vision functions. While he could do the same through the Force, he knew too little about his enemies abilities to risk it.

As he passed the threshold, the Dark Side seemed to erupt. Waves of the stuff crashing against the fortress of his soul, it pained him.

Whatever techniques they were using, they guarded the signature well. This powerful of a scent would have been detected the second he entered orbit.

Pushing on, he maneuvered through the cave system, following the most powerful of the scents. Eventually, he saw light. Getting even lower, until he was practically crawling, he peeked.

Spread amongst a larger cavern was a ramshackle base of sorts. Metal sheets and wooden planks made up the majority of the structures. Within, were people. Maybe a dozen at best, all wearing various flowing robes. Some were conversing, others reading old, dusty tomes.

To the side stood three hover trucks, clearly old but well maintained. On the other side of the cavern were cages, filled with twenty-something Wretches.

Not far from there sat more cages, this time filled with normal people, unconscious and unhurt. At a glance there seemed to be around fifty of them.

In the center, however, was a clear altar. Made of rough stone and covered in runic symbols that were filled with malice, it had copious blood stains all over it.

At the moment, it was unused. Before he could observe more, a thud emanated from a connected tunnel.

Walking through the tunnel was a mass. It could hardly be called a living thing, despite the fact that its many mouths breathed and its amalgamation of legs lifted it step by step.

Shambling its way into the room, it was followed by three figures. Two were humanoid, but clearly modified, with multiple other arms and legs wrapped around their original appendages.

The third figure was different. The other people in the cave wore simple brown robes, while this one wore a more elaborate, multi-layered maroon robe. On the back was a sharp orange symbol that he failed to recognize at a glance.

As the figure goes to stand in the center of the altar, they pull from their robes what seems to be a metal shard.

It seems to hum, the already strong Dark Side scent sharpening. The figure starts to turn toward his direction, but he's already on the move.

His instincts scream at him to movemovemove. He clamps down even more on his soul, as he rushes back to his ship as quietly as possible. After passing the caves threshold, the feeling seemed to seep away, trapped within the caves wards.

He didn't stop moving.

Not until he was back in his ship, and flying away.
—--------------—--------------—--------------—--------------—--------------—--------------—--------------—-----

It was late. Far later than I would rather it be, but I had little choice in the matter.

I sat in my private quarters in the capitol building of Edinspire, a terminal glowing in front of me.

Behind me lounged Mugwuffin, spread across my bed like she didn't have a handcrafted bed of her own just below her.

Personally, I would have preferred to go to bed, but I had a schedule of sorts to keep. See, after I awoke in this unfortunate situation, I realized I had 0 skill in politics or leadership. Something I needed to fix quickly.

Leadership was easy enough. Speak confidently, treat people with respect, admit your faults but avoid looking like a bumbling moron and I could get by well enough. Politics and governance are a different story.

Since my arrival, I've been able to make the right decisions through a combination of three things. The first is common sense, a trait sorely lacking amongst much of the Imperial administration. The second is asking the people around me who work in whatever area I'm deciding on for their professional advice and the like. It's why I leave requisition details largely up to Grant or Veers, because they know what they're doing.

The third reason is studying. Whenever I can, which is usually every other day, I take a few hours to read through mind-numbingly boring historical documents and political journals. I pour through textbooks from the best colleges I could get my hands on, all to understand the political world a bit better. And what have I learned?

It's so Sith-like it's not even funny. Most of politics is people maneuvering around each other to gain what they want and mess with their enemies in the meanwhile. The only difference is that public perception plays a bigger role, while the old Sith would just burn down whatever city caused a ruckus.

Still, once you dig past that you get to the economics and cultural parts of it, and it starts to make more sense. Still a lot, but its easier to read about balancing tariffs and reigning in mega-corps than it is to read the millionth variation of 'politician retires suddenly, national oopsie totally unrelated'.

So here I am, reading the twelfth chapter of Galactic Economics: Planets to Galaxies. It was the standard issue textbook for students studying economics at Byron University, over on Alderaan. Tough stuff, but I powered through, noting down important topics and the like.

If Minda had a shiny outside and a rotten inside, the Commandant might notice. It didn't have to be perfect, but it had to be working.

I normally wouldn't be working this late, but my lack of academic talent meant I spent longer on this kind of stuff than normal, and combined with all the work Edin has been giving me, I can hardly find the time.

It's only because of this that I'm awake when the report gets sent to my terminal. Likely meant for me to see tomorrow, I check it anyway. A break from the increasingly complex world of intergalactic trade felt like heaven.

I checked the report.

I then immediately cradle my face in my hands and sigh, seriously considering praying to the Force. I don't, because the magical fate making energy can go fuck itself, but its certainly tempting.

Because on my screen, stitched onto the back of some upjumped cultists robe, is a symbol.

The symbol of the Eternal Empire.

Fuck.
—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----
Hi there folks! Sorry for the 4 day delay. It wasn't for anything important, it's just that I've been…gooning, for lack of a better word. I'd say more, and but all my stuff is posted on SFW pages. And even tho the peeps over on QQ are a different breed, to say the least, I got an infraction over there cause I called the commenter incels as a joke in an a/n, so I'm not risking it.

Another reason is that my new PC, after the old one burned in the Eaton fire, was supposed to arrive on the 20th. I then had the pleasure to learn that, after waiting two weeks, it was actually slated to arrive between the 20th of March and the 2nd of April.

Joy.

Anyways, I've been in a mood, but still pumped this one out as an interim chapter and to get the right organs working this time around.

As always, feedback and comments appreciated.

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller
 
The Eternal Empire?
Well, this image sums up my reaction to the news of their presence...
lesson-spongebob.gif
 
Freefaller said:
I checked the report.

I then immediately cradle my face in my hands and sigh, seriously considering praying to the Force. I don't, because the magical fate making energy can go fuck itself, but its certainly tempting.

Because on my screen, stitched onto the back of some upjumped cultists robe, is a symbol.

The symbol of the Eternal Empire.

Fuck.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Well that's one way to gain the Emperor's attention. Seventh brother sends that in and the least that shows up is the grand inquisitor with a retinue of his subordinates. If those texts are in any of the photographs Vader is coming full speed because when he wasn't acting as the Emperor's chief enforcer he was collecting Sith knowledge and artifacts from all over for the two of them to study.
 
Freefaller said:
Chp-41: Cultists are Wack, Man

Seventh Brother
Edin System, Highreach, Dala Canyon

Above the sprawling canyon range, Seventh hovered in his Whirlwind. The recently named Obsidian Talon painted a sleek black with sharp red lines cutting through the design. It had been modified to his tastes, sporting more powerful engines, shields, weapons, and a class 1 hyperdrive.

This refit had come at some costs, however. The inertial dampener and flight guidance computers had been replaced. Now, the dampener was smaller, capable of only 50% of the previous model's abilities, while the guidance system was removed entirely.

He had the Force, and therefore no need for such things.

But now, he was hovering, tracking the distinct scent of the Dark Side as yet another transport of Wretches made their escape.

This time, he intended to find their location.

With careful maneuvering, he made his way down into the canyon, rotating wings allowing him to make far tighter turns.

Soon, the scent disappeared into a cave, and he knew he had arrived. Setting down the Obsidian Talon some distance away, he got out. His outfit was modified, sporting less armor plating for more fabrics. This softened the sounds he made.

Slowly but surely, he approached the cave from the side, sticking to the darkest of the night's shadows.

He could feel the Dark Side around him, in him, a beast. But he muzzled it, caged it, and quieted his soul. For all that he wanted to lash out, the situation did not call for it.

His prowess with a lightsaber or the more violent aspects of the Force had always been lesser than that of his colleagues. However, his connection with the more esoteric side, combined with his patience, allowed him to maneuver in different directions than the other inquisitors.

While the others like Marrok or Trilla had gained their positions through strength and cunning, respectively, he had maintained his lower level through mediocrity. He always ensured that he was good enough to keep around, but not so good that he would be thrown aside.

A balance only obtainable because of his patience. Because he was willing to let others pass to ensure his own survival.

If he succeeded here, it would certainly be a boon and raise him back up into his middle rank. He had gotten cocky on his last mission, and his failure almost cost him his life.

Not here. Success was survival, failure was death, and he had not put in so much work to live as long as he had in the Inquisition just to die here.

Slinking into the cave, he activated his helmet's night vision functions. While he could do the same through the Force, he knew too little about his enemies abilities to risk it.

As he passed the threshold, the Dark Side seemed to erupt. Waves of the stuff crashing against the fortress of his soul, it pained him.

Whatever techniques they were using, they guarded the signature well. This powerful of a scent would have been detected the second he entered orbit.

Pushing on, he maneuvered through the cave system, following the most powerful of the scents. Eventually, he saw light. Getting even lower, until he was practically crawling, he peeked.

Spread amongst a larger cavern was a ramshackle base of sorts. Metal sheets and wooden planks made up the majority of the structures. Within, were people. Maybe a dozen at best, all wearing various flowing robes. Some were conversing, others reading old, dusty tomes.

To the side stood three hover trucks, clearly old but well maintained. On the other side of the cavern were cages, filled with twenty-something Wretches.

Not far from there sat more cages, this time filled with normal people, unconscious and unhurt. At a glance there seemed to be around fifty of them.

In the center, however, was a clear altar. Made of rough stone and covered in runic symbols that were filled with malice, it had copious blood stains all over it.

At the moment, it was unused. Before he could observe more, a thud emanated from a connected tunnel.

Walking through the tunnel was a mass. It could hardly be called a living thing, despite the fact that its many mouths breathed and its amalgamation of legs lifted it step by step.

Shambling its way into the room, it was followed by three figures. Two were humanoid, but clearly modified, with multiple other arms and legs wrapped around their original appendages.

The third figure was different. The other people in the cave wore simple brown robes, while this one wore a more elaborate, multi-layered maroon robe. On the back was a sharp orange symbol that he failed to recognize at a glance.

As the figure goes to stand in the center of the altar, they pull from their robes what seems to be a metal shard.

It seems to hum, the already strong Dark Side scent sharpening. The figure starts to turn toward his direction, but he's already on the move.

His instincts scream at him to movemovemove. He clamps down even more on his soul, as he rushes back to his ship as quietly as possible. After passing the caves threshold, the feeling seemed to seep away, trapped within the caves wards.

He didn't stop moving.

Not until he was back in his ship, and flying away.
—--------------—--------------—--------------—--------------—--------------—--------------—--------------—-----

It was late. Far later than I would rather it be, but I had little choice in the matter.

I sat in my private quarters in the capitol building of Edinspire, a terminal glowing in front of me.

Behind me lounged Mugwuffin, spread across my bed like she didn't have a handcrafted bed of her own just below her.

Personally, I would have preferred to go to bed, but I had a schedule of sorts to keep. See, after I awoke in this unfortunate situation, I realized I had 0 skill in politics or leadership. Something I needed to fix quickly.

Leadership was easy enough. Speak confidently, treat people with respect, admit your faults but avoid looking like a bumbling moron and I could get by well enough. Politics and governance are a different story.

Since my arrival, I've been able to make the right decisions through a combination of three things. The first is common sense, a trait sorely lacking amongst much of the Imperial administration. The second is asking the people around me who work in whatever area I'm deciding on for their professional advice and the like. It's why I leave requisition details largely up to Grant or Veers, because they know what they're doing.

The third reason is studying. Whenever I can, which is usually every other day, I take a few hours to read through mind-numbingly boring historical documents and political journals. I pour through textbooks from the best colleges I could get my hands on, all to understand the political world a bit better. And what have I learned?

It's so Sith-like it's not even funny. Most of politics is people maneuvering around each other to gain what they want and mess with their enemies in the meanwhile. The only difference is that public perception plays a bigger role, while the old Sith would just burn down whatever city caused a ruckus.

Still, once you dig past that you get to the economics and cultural parts of it, and it starts to make more sense. Still a lot, but its easier to read about balancing tariffs and reigning in mega-corps than it is to read the millionth variation of 'politician retires suddenly, national oopsie totally unrelated'.

So here I am, reading the twelfth chapter of Galactic Economics: Planets to Galaxies. It was the standard issue textbook for students studying economics at Byron University, over on Alderaan. Tough stuff, but I powered through, noting down important topics and the like.

If Minda had a shiny outside and a rotten inside, the Commandant might notice. It didn't have to be perfect, but it had to be working.

I normally wouldn't be working this late, but my lack of academic talent meant I spent longer on this kind of stuff than normal, and combined with all the work Edin has been giving me, I can hardly find the time.

It's only because of this that I'm awake when the report gets sent to my terminal. Likely meant for me to see tomorrow, I check it anyway. A break from the increasingly complex world of intergalactic trade felt like heaven.

I checked the report.

I then immediately cradle my face in my hands and sigh, seriously considering praying to the Force. I don't, because the magical fate making energy can go fuck itself, but its certainly tempting.

Because on my screen, stitched onto the back of some upjumped cultists robe, is a symbol.

The symbol of the Eternal Empire.

Fuck.
—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----
Hi there folks! Sorry for the 4 day delay. It wasn't for anything important, it's just that I've been…gooning, for lack of a better word. I'd say more, and but all my stuff is posted on SFW pages. And even tho the peeps over on QQ are a different breed, to say the least, I got an infraction over there cause I called the commenter incels as a joke in an a/n, so I'm not risking it.

Another reason is that my new PC, after the old one burned in the Eaton fire, was supposed to arrive on the 20th. I then had the pleasure to learn that, after waiting two weeks, it was actually slated to arrive between the 20th of March and the 2nd of April.

Joy.

Anyways, I've been in a mood, but still pumped this one out as an interim chapter and to get the right organs working this time around.

As always, feedback and comments appreciated.

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...

Ok, so the Eternal Empire is from Legends

So my boy is in legends

YES YES YES YES YES YES, WE'RE GETTING THE FUCKING VONG YES!!!!!!!!

With how competent he is bro is going to take Palleon's place in the imperial Remnant by Virtue of being so far away from imperial infighting he'll be the last remaining imperial figure of significant stature remaining

WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK
 
Freefaller said:
Walking through the tunnel was a mass. It could hardly be called a living thing, despite the fact that its many mouths breathed and its amalgamation of legs lifted it step by step.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Okay, I know the Eternal Empire has to have done some completely unnatural s**t, especially with Valkorion/Vitiate/Tenebrae as its Emperor, but I'm pretty sure they never did something or created something that looks like it came straight out of the Warp of the Warhammer 40k universe. It has to be incredibly bad if the Inquisitor's senses tell him to run.

Well, on the bright side (if you can call it that), the Minda R&D may have their chance to contribute to solving this crisis. Defense lines and firepower will certainly help; however, given that Las is likely unwilling to just throw men at the problem, he is going to need serious technological breakthroughs to combat this hideous twisted creation and the cult who created it. Science and firepower, supplemented with the Force of an Inquisitor, will have to win the day.
 
B00ki5h said:
grand inquisitor
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Nope, post Rebels he's dead as shit.

Knight Sovereign said:
Okay, I know the Eternal Empire has to have done some completely unnatural s**t, especially with Valkorion/Vitiate/Tenebrae as its Emperor, but I'm pretty sure they never did something or created something that looks like it came straight out of the Warp of the Warhammer 40k universe. It has to be incredibly bad if the Inquisitor's senses tell him to run.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Nah, this isn't the Eternal Empire this is a cult dedicated to it thats inbred as fuck, both literally, and force wise.
 
First off great chapter, second welcome back from the break, and lastly.

*deep breath* Holy shit we need Vader or some force powerful person to deal with this asap. The Eternal empire is worse then even the current one, at least for the common man. Also what's going on with our dear young Skywalker Luke.
And if he is on Minda and if Obi-One or Ben followed him here if Vader does show up would he sense Luke? Or well then again Vader would have to go to Minda and I don't think he would have a reason to… then again the force works in strange ways.
 
Aeroeng said:
Nah, this isn't the Eternal Empire this is a cult dedicated to it thats inbred as fuck, both literally, and force wise.
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Click to shrink...
Good point. This cult is certainly less than even a shadow of the Eternal Empire, but you still have to admit that anything even remotely connected to Valkorion/Vitiate/Tenebrae has to be dangerous. At least it's not as bad as anything related to Abeloth.

CosmicWanderer said:
How soon can Vader get here?
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There must surely be channels to go through, though the Seventh Brother may have more direct lines of communication; however, contacting the chief enforcer of Emperor Palpatine himself is not to be taken lightly, no matter the reason.
 
It should be mentioned that while Valkorian started out as a Sith the Eternal Empire and whatever he Became are not Sith related. So whatever this Cult is it's not related to anything the Sith themselves would do.
Edit: I say this because whatever he was required both the ghosts of Jedi and Sith to Work Together to put in the ground permanently. That should tell you all just how bad this Cult could be.
 
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