Watching
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Governor's Gambit - Star Wars SI into Imperial Governor
- Thread starter Freefaller
- Start date
Jao
(Verified Lemon Drop Addict)
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Unita's name might also be from ME. The first Human ambassador to the Citadel is Anita, the second being Udina. If you combine their names you get Unita.
Osku
Know what you're doing yet?
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There was omake on sb, alderaan royal engineers.
sperance
Connoisseur.
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I imagine he was actually quite pleased. In his fucked up view of the world, his daughters are a fucking disappointment because they're boring as hell. Little good toy soldiers who do exactly what is expected of them at all times and flinch away from anything that may be interesting. Las, on the other hand, is the greatest plot twist Dornun's family has ever given him. A walking corpse, suddenly unveiling previously unseen depths and competency. Besting challenges and assassinations with previously unseen cunning, engendering loyalty out of sheer competence. And unlike Jir, Las seems immune to having the spark that makes him interesting be snuffed out by the realitites of the Empire. If anything, they seem to motivate him even further.
So I imagine Dornun is quite happy with it.
Last edited:
Sanguine
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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At least he can admit it, acknowledge it and feel genuine guilt over it.
Leagues better then what we've heard about momma Mola.
BaronNoir
Fallen Lord of Bubbleburg
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What the hell bro, I wish some of my exams were that easy.
Ryanyahoo
Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?
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Yacov
Not too sore, are you?
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Nice to see we got a timeline to Las' Moffdom.
I am sure the latter will have no consequences whatsoever
Las may have favorites, but it still won't be a free ride for anyone.
Even in a relative bureaucratic paradise, Ife still has that Imperial paranoia towards subordinates.
Oh no, he is a Force sensitive drama student. Those never end well.
Dornun continuing the Mindan tradition of hiring borderline Rebels.
Yacov
Not too sore, are you?
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Omake: Scarce Game and Lean Years
POV: Sergeant Kinko, Edin's Edge Monitoring Outpost (the Sixth), Edin System, Myto Sector
Sergeant Kinko sighed as he gazed out the window into the void. Edin's Edge was the furthest outpost in the system. Seen as the worst posting for the Imperial military in Edin. Even more than asteroid patrol, getting blasted at by the occasional pirate who thinks they can take on the Imperial Navy. At least they had reliable backup.
The issue with being assigned to Edin's Edge was mainly due to the fact that there was nothing enjoyable about the posting. When you served a rotation here, there were usually two outcomes. You were in for either a boring eternity looking at the very occasional passing ship, or your time at the posting ends suddenly in a pirate attack with potential reinforcements likely unable to come to your aid in time to prevent the station's demise.
Despite being on the sixth iteration of the station in under five years, the posting wasn't as lethal as it sounded. This was Kinko's second Edin's Edge after all. Armor and shields were often sufficient to complete evacuation procedures, and the escape pod was fast enough to get out of the combat zone without too much attention from enemy usually. That did little to make having your station blown up any less unpleasant. Most of the crew didn't even risk bringing along personal effects when assigned here, another mark against the station.
It made Kinko question why they would even rebuild the station time after time. Yet he knew the answer. Something had to be out here to monitor traffic coming in and out of this remote, but relatively stable entrance into the asteroid field. More respectable spacers would just take the closer and more secure route to Highreach, but the station wasn't built to monitor respectable folk. If Edin's Edge wasn't here, pirates and smugglers would have free rein to come in and root themselves back into the asteroid field the Navy had spend so much effort clearing out. It was an important duty, but it didn't stop him feeling like a Mynock in a Spice mine.
"Sergeant! We have picked up a ship heading straight towards us! They have no transponder code and are not responding to hails!"
Looks like Kinko is in for the latter of the two outcomes. Another Edin's Edge lost to a sudden, but inevitable pirate raid looking to pluck out the Empire's eyes. He just hopes reinforcements aren't too far away this time. Last raid had them stuck in the escape pod for half a day. Things only got weirder with the next update.
"Sergeant! They are not powering up their weapons or shields! In fact their vessel appears to have be in very poor repair. Hold on, they managed to send a pretty garbled message… I think they are requesting to come aboard?"
Well at least there is little chance of them blowing up the station again. We may yet be able to beat Edin's Edge the Third's record. Unless there is a sudden betrayal by a subordinate. At least Kinko will get to look the people in the eye before they start shooting at him.
"Signal that we will let 'em aboard. Regs say we can't fire on a nonthreatening vessel asking for help. Make sure you get a good scan, then send it over to the Patrol Fleet with a request for reinforcements. At least if they kill us all the Fleet will have a clear ID to actively hunt down.
After that, assemble in the landing bay with the rest of the crew. In front of the escape pod like we practiced. Let's see what fresh Bantha dung Edin has thrown in our faces today."
——
This… was certainly not what Kinko was expecting.
"Can you run that by me again? Just for confirmation?"
The rickety YV-865 Aurore-class freighter had landed in their landing bay with an uncomfortable thud. Disgorging hundreds of Sanyassans into the station. A sight most small stations would see before their crew were slaughtered en masse.
"I am Chief Szubak, 34th chieftain of the Rolling Rock Clan. We of the Rolling Rock Clan have come to discuss surrendering to the Empire Tribe."
It was the appearance of the Sanyassans that deviated from the visions of doom Kinko dreaded on anxious nights. Instead of a mob of burly raiders, the group was made up primarily of a couple hundred women and children. All sporting gaunt faces and disheartened spirits. The dozen or so males of adult age were all tied up with fibercord and presented to the Edin's Edge crew. Their leader, similarly bound, was dressed in crude finery several sizes too large for him.
"And what caused this sudden desire to submit to the Empire, Chieftain Szubak?"
He had heard of an individual criminal turning themselves in. Usually to snitch on their mates in exchange for a lighter sentence. It happened more frequently as word of the Edin's light hand on convicts got around. However hundreds communally showing up is practically unheard of.
"Before these harsh times brought by your new chieftain, the Rolling Rock Clan enjoyed plenty. The Empire Tribe was lax in their vigilance of this area and we made many raids on your metal herds and traders. The Fields of Rock were filled with fattened bands, sufficiently gorged to not make trouble with the others for there was a lot to go around.
When your new chieftain took control, your patrols were tightened and discipline instilled. Where there was laxity and even cooperation with members of the Empire Tribe, now there is only fire and harshness. The Fields of Rock are now filled with strangers. Those who do not respect the Truce Day for trading nor settle legal disputes with trial by combat. Each group is desperate for any advantage to survive one more day.
The Rolling Rock Clan has fallen on harsh times. Hunting and raiding is now fraught with danger for the menfolk. So dangerous that I am the eighth chieftain elected to lead the Clan in the past two years. Convoys once pliant and meek now have strong guards both within and without."
Kinko gave a subtle motion to his crew behind his back. They scuttled a bit closer to the benign, unlabeled door leading to the escape pod. If this speech was some kind of ritualistic justification for an attack, they need the best chance possible.
How Kinko wishes he could join them. However a leader, even a mere sergeant, must always present strength in a crisis. If only to buy a moment for the rest to escape. Backpedaling would only be a sign of weakness and an invitation to attack. Whether the chieftain noticed or not, he did not react and continued his speech.
"Now strangers attempt to raid us as often as they do the Empire Tribe. Our enthralled Tech-shamans and slaves have all been seized and our stores plundered frequently. They have broken through our hull plating barmkin a number of times, although our womenfolk and children have always been safe at further cost to our menfolk.
Our herd of mighty warships is now reducing to the lone wounded creature you see before you. A large part of the herd was struck down when we joined in the Battle of Falling Boulders where a confederation of Clans formed a war party to launch an assault on your Tribe.
Unfortunately we were no match for the ferocity of your new Vigilbeasts. Many Clans simply disintegrated or fled the Fields after that great disaster. Sadly we could not rouse the Star-Road Maker on our surviving ship to join them, as it has not worked in many rotations.
Things are hardly better at home within the Clan's bastle houses. The womenfolk struggle to organize the stores so there is enough food and goods for everyone. Hunger gnaws at menfolk, womenfolk, and children alike. Children are forced to be initiated sooner and sooner to support the Clan's activities. Sparse game means the Clan lacks the Wupiupi to pay the few friendly merchants that would dare frequent the Fields of Rock these days. Desperate measures must be taken before the Clan dies out completely."
Kinko nodded along as if any of this sob story mattered to him right now. Currently his primary concern was keeping this desperate mob that outnumbered them more than thirty to one from tearing him and his crew apart limb from limb. The Clan probably had the arms they had left still aboard their ship. If the shooting started his crew wouldn't be able to kill them all before they retrieved them.
"What conditions did you have in mind in exchange for laying down your arms?"
If Kinko can keep this surrender show going, maybe he can disarm the Clan enough to stand a chance. Or stall enough time for reinforcements to show up. Either would work for him since it meant the eight of them could flee to the escape pod again and hopefully they would be too distracted to blown them up with the station's guns.
"We know the Empire Tribe pays for the capture of those who have raided them. The Rolling Rock Clan will submit to your Tribe and renounce their autonomy. We menfolk will pay whatever is demanded for breaking your Tribe's laws. Our womenfolk and children will integrate into your Tribe. They have not partook in our raids and have not broken any of your Tribe's laws.
In exchange we ask that the bounty for the menfolk be given to the womenfolk and the children. So that they may afford food and a chance to earn their place among your Tribe. We also ask that what little stores of the Clan remain with the Clan to assist in their integration."
Good to know they aren't asking for too much. Makes it easier to promise things if it looks convincing. Better play along even if matters change down the road.
"I see no problems with your Clan's proposal. Come, share in the Empire Tribe's bounty while our chieftain's patrol comes for you."
——
Kinko leaned back in his seat and took a breath. It took some convincing, performing some strange oath ritual, and three months worth of the station's rations spent on a single feast, but the Sanyassans were finally quiescent. The crew assisted in setting up a hutment so the Clan can sleep in the landing bay. Now he has some time to relax and…
"Sergeant! Tartan approaching! It's from the Patrol Fleet. There are responding to the message we sent out and are asking for an update."
…Think of what the frak he is going to say to the Fleet about this mess. By the Void. How to spin this? How to spin thiiiss?
"Tell them… tell them that civilians kept in a raiders' stronghold have bound their captors and are now seeking asylum with the Empire. I ordered the crew to empty the station's stores to give the civilians a good meal they probably hadn't seen in ages while the station's medical droid looked them over for injuries and illnesses. The civilians' demeanors are quite grateful and they are eager to integrate into their new homes."
There! Technically the truth, while making Kinko look good. He can only hope the captain is enough of a bleeding heart that they won't scrutinize his report too deeply and be more concerned about caring for the half-starved children. Perhaps his part in the "rescue" of these civilians might even get him a transfer off this deathtrap of a station.
——
I figured between Edin's underworld getting crushed, the Empire and the Guild increasing patrols, and out of sector competition rolling in, that the more "traditional" raiding communities would be feeling the pressure. The lack of successful raids quickly burning through their reserves of men, supplies, and ships. At that point their choices are starve, get subsumed by a foreign raiding band, or surrender to the Empire.
The Rolling Rock Clan was inspired by border reivers on the Scottish-English border in the 1500s and an old PC game called King of Dragon Pass. Felt it fit with how little Imperial control was in the Edin system's space before Las rolled in. The system's history of public order being so bad that familial communities of raiders managed to take root.
Crossposted on SB and SV
POV: Sergeant Kinko, Edin's Edge Monitoring Outpost (the Sixth), Edin System, Myto Sector
Sergeant Kinko sighed as he gazed out the window into the void. Edin's Edge was the furthest outpost in the system. Seen as the worst posting for the Imperial military in Edin. Even more than asteroid patrol, getting blasted at by the occasional pirate who thinks they can take on the Imperial Navy. At least they had reliable backup.
The issue with being assigned to Edin's Edge was mainly due to the fact that there was nothing enjoyable about the posting. When you served a rotation here, there were usually two outcomes. You were in for either a boring eternity looking at the very occasional passing ship, or your time at the posting ends suddenly in a pirate attack with potential reinforcements likely unable to come to your aid in time to prevent the station's demise.
Despite being on the sixth iteration of the station in under five years, the posting wasn't as lethal as it sounded. This was Kinko's second Edin's Edge after all. Armor and shields were often sufficient to complete evacuation procedures, and the escape pod was fast enough to get out of the combat zone without too much attention from enemy usually. That did little to make having your station blown up any less unpleasant. Most of the crew didn't even risk bringing along personal effects when assigned here, another mark against the station.
It made Kinko question why they would even rebuild the station time after time. Yet he knew the answer. Something had to be out here to monitor traffic coming in and out of this remote, but relatively stable entrance into the asteroid field. More respectable spacers would just take the closer and more secure route to Highreach, but the station wasn't built to monitor respectable folk. If Edin's Edge wasn't here, pirates and smugglers would have free rein to come in and root themselves back into the asteroid field the Navy had spend so much effort clearing out. It was an important duty, but it didn't stop him feeling like a Mynock in a Spice mine.
"Sergeant! We have picked up a ship heading straight towards us! They have no transponder code and are not responding to hails!"
Looks like Kinko is in for the latter of the two outcomes. Another Edin's Edge lost to a sudden, but inevitable pirate raid looking to pluck out the Empire's eyes. He just hopes reinforcements aren't too far away this time. Last raid had them stuck in the escape pod for half a day. Things only got weirder with the next update.
"Sergeant! They are not powering up their weapons or shields! In fact their vessel appears to have be in very poor repair. Hold on, they managed to send a pretty garbled message… I think they are requesting to come aboard?"
Well at least there is little chance of them blowing up the station again. We may yet be able to beat Edin's Edge the Third's record. Unless there is a sudden betrayal by a subordinate. At least Kinko will get to look the people in the eye before they start shooting at him.
"Signal that we will let 'em aboard. Regs say we can't fire on a nonthreatening vessel asking for help. Make sure you get a good scan, then send it over to the Patrol Fleet with a request for reinforcements. At least if they kill us all the Fleet will have a clear ID to actively hunt down.
After that, assemble in the landing bay with the rest of the crew. In front of the escape pod like we practiced. Let's see what fresh Bantha dung Edin has thrown in our faces today."
——
This… was certainly not what Kinko was expecting.
"Can you run that by me again? Just for confirmation?"
The rickety YV-865 Aurore-class freighter had landed in their landing bay with an uncomfortable thud. Disgorging hundreds of Sanyassans into the station. A sight most small stations would see before their crew were slaughtered en masse.
"I am Chief Szubak, 34th chieftain of the Rolling Rock Clan. We of the Rolling Rock Clan have come to discuss surrendering to the Empire Tribe."
It was the appearance of the Sanyassans that deviated from the visions of doom Kinko dreaded on anxious nights. Instead of a mob of burly raiders, the group was made up primarily of a couple hundred women and children. All sporting gaunt faces and disheartened spirits. The dozen or so males of adult age were all tied up with fibercord and presented to the Edin's Edge crew. Their leader, similarly bound, was dressed in crude finery several sizes too large for him.
"And what caused this sudden desire to submit to the Empire, Chieftain Szubak?"
He had heard of an individual criminal turning themselves in. Usually to snitch on their mates in exchange for a lighter sentence. It happened more frequently as word of the Edin's light hand on convicts got around. However hundreds communally showing up is practically unheard of.
"Before these harsh times brought by your new chieftain, the Rolling Rock Clan enjoyed plenty. The Empire Tribe was lax in their vigilance of this area and we made many raids on your metal herds and traders. The Fields of Rock were filled with fattened bands, sufficiently gorged to not make trouble with the others for there was a lot to go around.
When your new chieftain took control, your patrols were tightened and discipline instilled. Where there was laxity and even cooperation with members of the Empire Tribe, now there is only fire and harshness. The Fields of Rock are now filled with strangers. Those who do not respect the Truce Day for trading nor settle legal disputes with trial by combat. Each group is desperate for any advantage to survive one more day.
The Rolling Rock Clan has fallen on harsh times. Hunting and raiding is now fraught with danger for the menfolk. So dangerous that I am the eighth chieftain elected to lead the Clan in the past two years. Convoys once pliant and meek now have strong guards both within and without."
Kinko gave a subtle motion to his crew behind his back. They scuttled a bit closer to the benign, unlabeled door leading to the escape pod. If this speech was some kind of ritualistic justification for an attack, they need the best chance possible.
How Kinko wishes he could join them. However a leader, even a mere sergeant, must always present strength in a crisis. If only to buy a moment for the rest to escape. Backpedaling would only be a sign of weakness and an invitation to attack. Whether the chieftain noticed or not, he did not react and continued his speech.
"Now strangers attempt to raid us as often as they do the Empire Tribe. Our enthralled Tech-shamans and slaves have all been seized and our stores plundered frequently. They have broken through our hull plating barmkin a number of times, although our womenfolk and children have always been safe at further cost to our menfolk.
Our herd of mighty warships is now reducing to the lone wounded creature you see before you. A large part of the herd was struck down when we joined in the Battle of Falling Boulders where a confederation of Clans formed a war party to launch an assault on your Tribe.
Unfortunately we were no match for the ferocity of your new Vigilbeasts. Many Clans simply disintegrated or fled the Fields after that great disaster. Sadly we could not rouse the Star-Road Maker on our surviving ship to join them, as it has not worked in many rotations.
Things are hardly better at home within the Clan's bastle houses. The womenfolk struggle to organize the stores so there is enough food and goods for everyone. Hunger gnaws at menfolk, womenfolk, and children alike. Children are forced to be initiated sooner and sooner to support the Clan's activities. Sparse game means the Clan lacks the Wupiupi to pay the few friendly merchants that would dare frequent the Fields of Rock these days. Desperate measures must be taken before the Clan dies out completely."
Kinko nodded along as if any of this sob story mattered to him right now. Currently his primary concern was keeping this desperate mob that outnumbered them more than thirty to one from tearing him and his crew apart limb from limb. The Clan probably had the arms they had left still aboard their ship. If the shooting started his crew wouldn't be able to kill them all before they retrieved them.
"What conditions did you have in mind in exchange for laying down your arms?"
If Kinko can keep this surrender show going, maybe he can disarm the Clan enough to stand a chance. Or stall enough time for reinforcements to show up. Either would work for him since it meant the eight of them could flee to the escape pod again and hopefully they would be too distracted to blown them up with the station's guns.
"We know the Empire Tribe pays for the capture of those who have raided them. The Rolling Rock Clan will submit to your Tribe and renounce their autonomy. We menfolk will pay whatever is demanded for breaking your Tribe's laws. Our womenfolk and children will integrate into your Tribe. They have not partook in our raids and have not broken any of your Tribe's laws.
In exchange we ask that the bounty for the menfolk be given to the womenfolk and the children. So that they may afford food and a chance to earn their place among your Tribe. We also ask that what little stores of the Clan remain with the Clan to assist in their integration."
Good to know they aren't asking for too much. Makes it easier to promise things if it looks convincing. Better play along even if matters change down the road.
"I see no problems with your Clan's proposal. Come, share in the Empire Tribe's bounty while our chieftain's patrol comes for you."
——
Kinko leaned back in his seat and took a breath. It took some convincing, performing some strange oath ritual, and three months worth of the station's rations spent on a single feast, but the Sanyassans were finally quiescent. The crew assisted in setting up a hutment so the Clan can sleep in the landing bay. Now he has some time to relax and…
"Sergeant! Tartan approaching! It's from the Patrol Fleet. There are responding to the message we sent out and are asking for an update."
…Think of what the frak he is going to say to the Fleet about this mess. By the Void. How to spin this? How to spin thiiiss?
"Tell them… tell them that civilians kept in a raiders' stronghold have bound their captors and are now seeking asylum with the Empire. I ordered the crew to empty the station's stores to give the civilians a good meal they probably hadn't seen in ages while the station's medical droid looked them over for injuries and illnesses. The civilians' demeanors are quite grateful and they are eager to integrate into their new homes."
There! Technically the truth, while making Kinko look good. He can only hope the captain is enough of a bleeding heart that they won't scrutinize his report too deeply and be more concerned about caring for the half-starved children. Perhaps his part in the "rescue" of these civilians might even get him a transfer off this deathtrap of a station.
——
I figured between Edin's underworld getting crushed, the Empire and the Guild increasing patrols, and out of sector competition rolling in, that the more "traditional" raiding communities would be feeling the pressure. The lack of successful raids quickly burning through their reserves of men, supplies, and ships. At that point their choices are starve, get subsumed by a foreign raiding band, or surrender to the Empire.
The Rolling Rock Clan was inspired by border reivers on the Scottish-English border in the 1500s and an old PC game called King of Dragon Pass. Felt it fit with how little Imperial control was in the Edin system's space before Las rolled in. The system's history of public order being so bad that familial communities of raiders managed to take root.
Crossposted on SB and SV
Last edited:
Yacov
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2021
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- 453
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- 7,297
One last go at the vehicle creator before the end of the year.
Omake: The Warder Frontier Patrol Boat
Production Information
Manufacturer: Imperial Mindan Shipyards
Model: Warder Frontier Patrol Boat
Type: Patrol craft
Cost: not available for sale
——
Technical Specifications
Engine unit(s): Y-v-6 model sublight drive
Hyperdrive: none
Shielding: equipped
Power: relatively large fusion generator
Hull: titanium hull
Sensors: ANs-9.5w wide range sensor system
Armament: 4 turreted RSTT-00 railguns
Crew: 8
Passengers: 5
Cargo Capacity: 50 tons
Life Support: Equipped
Consumables: 2 months
Other systems:
——
Usage
Availability:
Description
"Force help the Empire if we ever have to produce this." - MSDF officer upon looking at the theoretical design of the Warder.
The Warder is a starship design kept in reserve. A truly Mindan creation waiting for when times are truly dire. Utilizing a mix of both novel and outdated technology to make an uninspired design to do low priority work. A prepared bandage to be applied on a broken dam to allow better ships to do more important work and perhaps fend off greater threats.
Design
"The supply blueprint has been minimized as much as we could make it. Now if only it wasn't such an energy glutton it might be more usable." - Designer of the Warder lamenting its limits.
The Warder as concept began when the Mindan government requested a ship design to potentially be made in times of emergency and logistical difficulties. Intended as a ship to be manufactured while Imperial shipyards were facing severe resource and equipment shortages. The Warder was mainly meant to be produced in idle yard space when more advanced designs were delayed due to material limitations. A simple, low resource cost vessel to be produced in theoretical conditions such as if the Rawmat Shortage and the Mid Rim Offensive had led to a full Imperial logistical collapse in the northern Outer Rim.
The ability to build and finish any ship at all was seen by the designers as more valuable than being able to start and then have to stop the building of a more capable ship. Focus was emphasized on resource substitution and ease of maintenance. The main purpose of the design was to lessen supply strain by producing a ship that used little critical components and resources that could also be maintained at the local level.
The Warder was given a basic half oval shape with thrusters sticking out the flat end. Crew accommodations were sparse except for a dedicated captain's quarters for the Imperial Navy officer in command. The most advanced internal was ANs-9.5w wide range sensor system which was added for the Warder to pick out smugglers and pirates while on patrol.
The sublight engine that was chosen was the fairly old Y-v-6 model sublight drive when possible. The deciding factor was its reputation for only requiring maintenance once a year. The slower speed was not seen as too much of a drawback with the limited area of operation that was expected of them.
The armament was four of the novel turreted RSTT-00 railguns with the intention of lowering a garrisons' need for Tibanna gas and technical parts for starship grade laser weapons. The hope was the ubiquity of repulsorlift technology would make repairing the railgun relatively easy. Invented early on in Minda's history for planetary defense. Mass use was rejected due to high energy requirements and the need to swap barrels frequent as a result of damage from heat and recoil.
Further research into the proper metallurgy has resulted in a design that lessens these issues while still being producible with the fairly rudimentary industrial capacity of remote Imperial garrisons. The increase in maintenance to keep the RSTT-00 railguns functional was seen as acceptable given the Warders were not expected to see much sustained combat due to the nature of their intended postings.
To handle the increased power requirements of the Warder, a relatively large and uncomplicated fusion generator was planned to be the main energy source. The increased power output and simplicity came at the cost of larger than normal bulk and the need for extra heat management to handle the power drawn when firing all four of the railguns at once.
Performance
"It is a slow moving slab of metal with guns. What more do you want me to say?" - Mindan R&D simulation tester when asked to describe the Warder.
As a single Warder has yet to be produced, any performance testing has to be conducted via simulation or lab testing of components. This combined with theory crafting with focus groups gave a decent estimate of the Warder's potential capabilities. Testers noted the ease at which people could learn the operation various stations aboard the ship.
In the simulated scenarios, the Warder proved to be too slow to pursue fleeing pirates, unable to penetrate high powered shields such as on Mon Cala vessels, prone to overheating when the railguns were fired too quickly, and unable to withstand turbolaser fire or torpedo hits for long. On a more positive note, the Warder was able to destroy most starfighters in a hit or two, knock out light and medium freighters fairly reliably, and was able to perform admirably in most low intensity pirate assaults. Overall the design was deemed good enough for the purposes and circumstances it was intended to operate in.
Reception
"I hate this ship almost as much as the circumstances that would force me to use it." - Imperial Admiral reviewing potential scenarios that would necessitate using the Warder.
The design was brought to a variety of focus groups for analysis and recommendations. Concerns over intelligence leaks were minimal as none of the tech was exactly groundbreaking and the standard NDAs were deemed sufficient.
A group of naval planners, yard workers, and starport mechanics gave positive reviews on the sustainability of the potential design. While there were some doubts expressed from the naval planners and yard workers on whether lower level facilities would be able to do major repairs, the starport mechanics remarked that if we were willing to accept some decrease in performance, most minor facilities would be able to make do.
A focus group of soldiers and naval crews said they would be disheartened should they encounter the design being deployed. Seeing it as a harbinger of hard times and a sign their duties were low priority. Performance wise they said it was good enough for minor duties, but anything bigger and more armed than a freighter would cause a notable decrease in morale, especially given the slow speed and lack of hyperdrive. These crew concerns were noted and some stalled proposals were discussed about increasing amenities to make up the difference.
Another focus group was comprised of amenable governors, commodores, and captains contacted through Guild connections. They were disappointed with the Warder's projected performance and lack of traditional weaponry. However the more pragmatic ones conceded that the design might be needed should naval assets ever need to be drastically reprioritized to give deprioritized outposts at least a minimum amount of defensive capability.
One of the more controversial focus groups was a collection of ex-pirates imprisoned in the Cavern correctional facility in the Edin system. Their general consensus was the Warder would be an annoying, but not insurmountable obstacle. A problem that would require a large band or several smaller bands working together to overcome without sustaining too many casualties. Another annoyance noted was the Warder did not even have the decency to carry anything really worth looting or taking as a prize. Several conceded that uncontested the Warder could destroy poorly shielded pirate outposts with sustained bombardment via the railguns.
Conclusion
"We'll shelve it in the database and get back to other projects. It will be waiting if we need it." - Final official statement before Project Warder was concluded.
The conclusion drawn from these interviews was that including Warders in the standard Imperial Navy Order of Battle was not advisable should they be produced. Rather they would serve as the backbone for temporary Fencible Skirmish Lines, which would be raised in case of a sector wide security threat during a resource shortage. An FSL would be composed of Warders, militarized freighters, and shuttles crewed primarily by volunteer local civilians. Analysis of Rebel fleet actions have shown the viability of such formations in the right circumstances.
These deputized civilians would given temporary military rank and be commanded by Imperial Navy officers. FSLs would be given garrison and patrol duties while being subordinate to any permanent Imperial Navy fleets. The new Lines would allow Imperial Navy ships and personnel to be relocated to more under threat positions. After the threat has passed, the FSLs would be disbanded with the Warders being mothballed in case of future need.
In the best circumstances, the Warder would never see the light of day or even been considered by the Empire. It is a subpar vessel with novel weaponry with plenty of better alternatives. Unfortunately as the Galactic Civil War rages on, designs like this may be necessary as those alternatives dwindle and more capable ships are moved to the front line. Leaving something needed to take its place.
——
With the Mard in full swing and more advanced industrial technology available, I figured it would be worth taking a second look at an old classic. The RSTT-00, that old planetary defense railgun from Chapter 11.
The Warder is not meant to be used in Minda or any halfway important system. It is a vessel meant for distant and unimportant ports to fend off what minor problems come searching for weakness. A bottom of the barrel option for the Mard or another shipyard to produce when they are running out of Imperial Dorrito mix for their berths.
The Warder shape and design is based on the Turanic Raiders Bandit-class Interceptor from the Homeworld game series, just with four railgun turrets bolted on. Fencible is a British military term, the FSLs were based on Sea Fencibles in particular. Fencible formations were civilian volunteer local defense units raised in times of national threat such as the Seven Years War or the Napoleonic Wars.
Crossposted on SB and SV
Omake: The Warder Frontier Patrol Boat
Production Information
Manufacturer: Imperial Mindan Shipyards
Model: Warder Frontier Patrol Boat
Type: Patrol craft
Cost: not available for sale
——
Technical Specifications
Engine unit(s): Y-v-6 model sublight drive
Hyperdrive: none
Shielding: equipped
Power: relatively large fusion generator
Hull: titanium hull
Sensors: ANs-9.5w wide range sensor system
Armament: 4 turreted RSTT-00 railguns
Crew: 8
Passengers: 5
Cargo Capacity: 50 tons
Life Support: Equipped
Consumables: 2 months
Other systems:
- Docking clamps for externally attaching the ship to one with a hyperdrive.
- Dedicated captain's quarters
——
Usage
Availability:
- Theorized design
- Frontier system patrol ship
- Anti-Starfighter ship
- Galactic Empire
Description
"Force help the Empire if we ever have to produce this." - MSDF officer upon looking at the theoretical design of the Warder.
The Warder is a starship design kept in reserve. A truly Mindan creation waiting for when times are truly dire. Utilizing a mix of both novel and outdated technology to make an uninspired design to do low priority work. A prepared bandage to be applied on a broken dam to allow better ships to do more important work and perhaps fend off greater threats.
Design
"The supply blueprint has been minimized as much as we could make it. Now if only it wasn't such an energy glutton it might be more usable." - Designer of the Warder lamenting its limits.
The Warder as concept began when the Mindan government requested a ship design to potentially be made in times of emergency and logistical difficulties. Intended as a ship to be manufactured while Imperial shipyards were facing severe resource and equipment shortages. The Warder was mainly meant to be produced in idle yard space when more advanced designs were delayed due to material limitations. A simple, low resource cost vessel to be produced in theoretical conditions such as if the Rawmat Shortage and the Mid Rim Offensive had led to a full Imperial logistical collapse in the northern Outer Rim.
The ability to build and finish any ship at all was seen by the designers as more valuable than being able to start and then have to stop the building of a more capable ship. Focus was emphasized on resource substitution and ease of maintenance. The main purpose of the design was to lessen supply strain by producing a ship that used little critical components and resources that could also be maintained at the local level.
The Warder was given a basic half oval shape with thrusters sticking out the flat end. Crew accommodations were sparse except for a dedicated captain's quarters for the Imperial Navy officer in command. The most advanced internal was ANs-9.5w wide range sensor system which was added for the Warder to pick out smugglers and pirates while on patrol.
The sublight engine that was chosen was the fairly old Y-v-6 model sublight drive when possible. The deciding factor was its reputation for only requiring maintenance once a year. The slower speed was not seen as too much of a drawback with the limited area of operation that was expected of them.
The armament was four of the novel turreted RSTT-00 railguns with the intention of lowering a garrisons' need for Tibanna gas and technical parts for starship grade laser weapons. The hope was the ubiquity of repulsorlift technology would make repairing the railgun relatively easy. Invented early on in Minda's history for planetary defense. Mass use was rejected due to high energy requirements and the need to swap barrels frequent as a result of damage from heat and recoil.
Further research into the proper metallurgy has resulted in a design that lessens these issues while still being producible with the fairly rudimentary industrial capacity of remote Imperial garrisons. The increase in maintenance to keep the RSTT-00 railguns functional was seen as acceptable given the Warders were not expected to see much sustained combat due to the nature of their intended postings.
To handle the increased power requirements of the Warder, a relatively large and uncomplicated fusion generator was planned to be the main energy source. The increased power output and simplicity came at the cost of larger than normal bulk and the need for extra heat management to handle the power drawn when firing all four of the railguns at once.
Performance
"It is a slow moving slab of metal with guns. What more do you want me to say?" - Mindan R&D simulation tester when asked to describe the Warder.
As a single Warder has yet to be produced, any performance testing has to be conducted via simulation or lab testing of components. This combined with theory crafting with focus groups gave a decent estimate of the Warder's potential capabilities. Testers noted the ease at which people could learn the operation various stations aboard the ship.
In the simulated scenarios, the Warder proved to be too slow to pursue fleeing pirates, unable to penetrate high powered shields such as on Mon Cala vessels, prone to overheating when the railguns were fired too quickly, and unable to withstand turbolaser fire or torpedo hits for long. On a more positive note, the Warder was able to destroy most starfighters in a hit or two, knock out light and medium freighters fairly reliably, and was able to perform admirably in most low intensity pirate assaults. Overall the design was deemed good enough for the purposes and circumstances it was intended to operate in.
Reception
"I hate this ship almost as much as the circumstances that would force me to use it." - Imperial Admiral reviewing potential scenarios that would necessitate using the Warder.
The design was brought to a variety of focus groups for analysis and recommendations. Concerns over intelligence leaks were minimal as none of the tech was exactly groundbreaking and the standard NDAs were deemed sufficient.
A group of naval planners, yard workers, and starport mechanics gave positive reviews on the sustainability of the potential design. While there were some doubts expressed from the naval planners and yard workers on whether lower level facilities would be able to do major repairs, the starport mechanics remarked that if we were willing to accept some decrease in performance, most minor facilities would be able to make do.
A focus group of soldiers and naval crews said they would be disheartened should they encounter the design being deployed. Seeing it as a harbinger of hard times and a sign their duties were low priority. Performance wise they said it was good enough for minor duties, but anything bigger and more armed than a freighter would cause a notable decrease in morale, especially given the slow speed and lack of hyperdrive. These crew concerns were noted and some stalled proposals were discussed about increasing amenities to make up the difference.
Another focus group was comprised of amenable governors, commodores, and captains contacted through Guild connections. They were disappointed with the Warder's projected performance and lack of traditional weaponry. However the more pragmatic ones conceded that the design might be needed should naval assets ever need to be drastically reprioritized to give deprioritized outposts at least a minimum amount of defensive capability.
One of the more controversial focus groups was a collection of ex-pirates imprisoned in the Cavern correctional facility in the Edin system. Their general consensus was the Warder would be an annoying, but not insurmountable obstacle. A problem that would require a large band or several smaller bands working together to overcome without sustaining too many casualties. Another annoyance noted was the Warder did not even have the decency to carry anything really worth looting or taking as a prize. Several conceded that uncontested the Warder could destroy poorly shielded pirate outposts with sustained bombardment via the railguns.
Conclusion
"We'll shelve it in the database and get back to other projects. It will be waiting if we need it." - Final official statement before Project Warder was concluded.
The conclusion drawn from these interviews was that including Warders in the standard Imperial Navy Order of Battle was not advisable should they be produced. Rather they would serve as the backbone for temporary Fencible Skirmish Lines, which would be raised in case of a sector wide security threat during a resource shortage. An FSL would be composed of Warders, militarized freighters, and shuttles crewed primarily by volunteer local civilians. Analysis of Rebel fleet actions have shown the viability of such formations in the right circumstances.
These deputized civilians would given temporary military rank and be commanded by Imperial Navy officers. FSLs would be given garrison and patrol duties while being subordinate to any permanent Imperial Navy fleets. The new Lines would allow Imperial Navy ships and personnel to be relocated to more under threat positions. After the threat has passed, the FSLs would be disbanded with the Warders being mothballed in case of future need.
In the best circumstances, the Warder would never see the light of day or even been considered by the Empire. It is a subpar vessel with novel weaponry with plenty of better alternatives. Unfortunately as the Galactic Civil War rages on, designs like this may be necessary as those alternatives dwindle and more capable ships are moved to the front line. Leaving something needed to take its place.
——
With the Mard in full swing and more advanced industrial technology available, I figured it would be worth taking a second look at an old classic. The RSTT-00, that old planetary defense railgun from Chapter 11.
The Warder is not meant to be used in Minda or any halfway important system. It is a vessel meant for distant and unimportant ports to fend off what minor problems come searching for weakness. A bottom of the barrel option for the Mard or another shipyard to produce when they are running out of Imperial Dorrito mix for their berths.
The Warder shape and design is based on the Turanic Raiders Bandit-class Interceptor from the Homeworld game series, just with four railgun turrets bolted on. Fencible is a British military term, the FSLs were based on Sea Fencibles in particular. Fencible formations were civilian volunteer local defense units raised in times of national threat such as the Seven Years War or the Napoleonic Wars.
Crossposted on SB and SV
Last edited:
HidinginPlain
Not too sore, are you?
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Chp-85
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Freefaller
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Chapter-85
1.7 ABY
Today was something resembling a joyous day.
Why? Well, today was the day that the 20th and final berth of the shipyards had been brought online!
With all 20 pumping ships out, the full backlog would be finished within just a few more months. By the start of 2ABY, the full backlog should be finished, and the yard can begin profiting the sector.
That's also around the time Abyssal Industries will finish setting up their production facilities, which will hopefully help invigorate local ship production sector wide.
As it stands, it's currently sorely lacking, with the Mard here on Minda being the only one capable of capital ship production. The other yards are all small civilian production facilities.
They plan on entering the market with a new class of medium hauler, I hear. One meant for the many, many mid-sized companies in the sector, thanks to the Guild. With the benefit of building entirely in-sector, their lower prices and shipping times might just give them the edge they need
On my desk was the usual pile of nonsense. Reports on reports on reports. If my situation was different, I might enjoy some of the tedium. I held an office job before all this, and I didn't hate it. I found a sense of peace in the numbers, management and steady growth.
But this is the Empire, and as the Empire loves to do it sucks the joy and whimsy out of all things. I suppose that's a side effect of tyranny and all that.
Regardless, I look through them, as is my duty. Most are the usual. Status reports on various things. From education to trade to defense and more. Nothing particularly unusual. The Council is doing fairly well at delegating things these days, and the internal corruption watch reports nothing wrong with them or any other Imperial personnel system wide.
And the doubly internal corruption watch reports nothing wrong with the normal corruption watch.
That's when I get to the real meat and bones. The reports were handed to me by three people.
The first is from Darna. It details HAVEN's activities across the sector. Mostly intel gathering at this stage, finding out where major slavery and cartel logistics are based out of, trying to identify major buyers, sellers, middlemen, etc… and of course her report on whether or not Thorne was a traitor. Still a no, even if she sounds annoyed to write it.
The second is from Thorne. It confirms much of Darna's information, and also includes reports on suspected rebel elements in the sector. Not many, and what is there seems to be mostly logistical. The plan is to keep an eye out, reinforce the yard, and blow up a few pirates every now and again and call them rebels. Keeps them thinking their hidden and safe, and away from important infrastructure.
The final report is from Dornun, the most smug deadbeat I've ever met. His message isn't nearly as straight forward as the others, all flowery and full of bullshit. Regardless, he gets his point across. He's found more candidates for other positions, the kinds of people who want to make a change, but not enough to start blowing up Imperial property. Good, I'm going to need that energy to make some administrative changes and get rid of corrupt officials.
He also included a cheeky little warning that the ISB were looking into me, as the next Moff, and were likely to send someone to meet with me soon, likely not long before the promotion. Calmly, I send an encoded message to Darna and Thorne to keep things on the down low for now.
The ISB may be Imperial, and therefore corrupt and inept, but they were still the ISB, the Emperors janitors, and not to be fucked with. I'd gotten lucky with Thorne. It wouldn't happen again.
Collating it all, I start planning ahead
Much of the information I've received is what I'll need to eradicate slavery from the sector. However, it's not enough.
See, the Empire isn't just cool ships and dramatic theme music. It's an oppressive, crushing regime of intolerable evil.
I'd avoided the worst of it, make no mistake. And if I'd had my wish, I would've stayed Governor and been able to keep avoiding it, generally keeping my head down and trying to survive. I'm no hero, after all.
But now? I'm about to step into a position of power. A position that can actively change things for the better. I may not want that position, not at all. I'd rather be doing a million other things.
However.
In a sense, I chose this. I may not want to be here, but I could've left beforehand. There have been opportunities. Even with all the multitudes of risk involved I could've left. It's not guaranteed death for me.
But I decided that this route was safer. That it was safer for me to stick to this path and wait for the Empire to fall, for the galaxy to fall to chaos, before I make my escape. After all, what's one missing Moff in a galaxy on fire?
Regardless, the fact of the matter is that I chose to continue down this path, and that means that for as long as I hold this office, no matter how much I hate it, I will fulfill my duty to the people.
It's like an office worker's code of honour. I don't like my job, but I'll do it anyway, and do it well!
And of the people who I now serve, some are slaves. This is unacceptable to me. Both economically and morally. The latter I've said before. It makes only a small few rich and harms the economy overall. The latter should be obvious. All people deserve freedom.
The problem that arises is how to accomplish this when Imperial Law itself outright states that slavery is legal. I can't contradict the Emperor. For all that Moffs and Governors are like little kings in their playgrounds, at the end of the day Empires exist to serve an Emperor, and that fascist little wrinkled anus is pure evil.
So no, I can't roll up to the Moffs chair, sit down, and declare slavery illegal. I'd get shot. Instead, I have to play the long game, and that involves a lot of information gathering, political games, and economic pressure.
Suffice to say, I'm going to make slavery very, very expensive.
-
1.7 ABY
Arkia System
Arkia Prime
Poti Grinta
"They always create such a stench, don't they Commandant?" Laughed the corpulent man, rolls of fat undulating like waves.
"That they do! Then again, I suppose that's simply the smell of a high profit margin, eh?"
The two guffawed at the joke as if it was the funniest one in the galaxy. Poti kept his face straight, gaze sharp but disinterested in the joke.
All the while, his concentration stayed with the two men. The fat one was a higher up, an advisor in the government of the Arkia system, one of the men with the Governor's ear. The other was the Commandant of this particular slave camp.
And right now, Poti wanted nothing more than to raise his blaster and hose the two of them down. He'd been a slave, seen the worst the system had to offer, watched his family be destroyed by it. But he couldn't do it. Not now.
His training flashed through his mind unbidden. The words of his instructor, face and voice hidden, aboard a ship he knew not the name of.
Hands in the dark, eyes on the dawn.
Poti cannot afford to break his cover now, or the slaves below may never see the dawn. So he straightens his back, looks off into the middle distance, and listens.
The two men are moving away now, into the hallways. Poti and another guard follow, as they were assigned to the commandant's retinue.
The next dozen minutes are a special sort of hell for Poti, listening to the two of them yammer on as if they are not responsible for the ruining of hundreds, if not thousands of lives.
Stopping at a window, the advisor looks out a window into the pens, watching the slaves turn stone into slabs like a living factory. He eyes one slave, a red twi-lek woman, newer to the pens and less dirty than the others.
"Oh? See one you like?" Says the commandant. Poti almost freezes, his heart pounding. Abuse is a regular occurrence in a place like this, but the slaves are too dirty for any Imp to ever consider them like that.
"Hmmm…not bad. I usually abstain. Old age and all. But…" The advisor seems to consider it, a sick gleam in his eyes.
Glancing around, Poti notices that there are no eyes on him. As the twi-lek glances up, noticing them having stood at the window for longer than normal, her eyes widen.
Up in the window, she spots a large, fat man eying her with a look she's gotten all too often. A disgusted shiver runs up her spine, but before she can react she notices a guard near them, face hidden by the shadows and the sun in her eyes.
The guard raises a closed fist to his mouth, and she understands.
Quickly, she starts coughing, violently in a corner. Back inside, Poti resists the urge to sigh.
It was risky, but his positioning should've hid his face from view.
A look of disgust is visible on the advisor's face, and he turns away, done leering.
The next hour continues as the previous did. Bad jokes, barely hidden corruption, and a dinner that wasted more food than the slaves ever got to see.
It was during that dinner the Poti caught some interesting tidbits of information as he stood guard.
Through his earpiece he could hear the conversation inside the room, courtesy of a connected bug he'd planted last night as part of the preparations.
"So, Advisor. I've heard the Guild has been expanding even more lately. And somehow the news keeps getting spread to slaves everywhere. Why, a few of my peers have complained about uprisings!"
"So true, Commandant. So true. It's downright un-Imperial what these Guilders are doing! But don't you worry, my good man. I have it on good authority that we'll be getting some assistance with the matter quite soon. We will weather this storm as we've always done."
Assistance? Poti searched his mind, trying to find any possible connection. The Hutts? Possible. Their presence in the sector had been weakened by both the Guild and rivals like the Crimson Dawn and Zann Consortium.
But the former was just rumors, as the syndicate had reportedly been dissolved. And the latter, while powerful, had lost its assets in the region and was apparently focused elsewhere. So why would the Hutts bump up these people?
Convenience? Maybe. It was too early to tell. All Poti really knew was that this had to go in his next report, no matter what.
Still, as the day ended and Poti returned to his barracks, in the back of his mind he hoped that the day would soon come that he could use those thermal detonators he'd buried out in the hills. The people here would be saved.
That's why he'd joined HAVEN, after all. To build that dawn.
-
Yo. I hath returned. Christmas in South America is a special sort of humid hell. But then again, the original plan was to visit LA, and its pouring over there right now. Also, I've been writing for other stories as well. I've decided on a rotation of sorts. As much as I love this story as my first, it's an absolute behemoth to wrangle now, so I figure rotating between this, my other star wars fic, my original work and my new goofy 40k fic, I can keep myself from burning out.
Also, plans! I've actually got something resembling an arc planned out now that Las is almost a Moff! Don't worry, it'll hopefully go better than the absolute rushed mess that was the whole cult arc. Pretty sure I was just thirsty for muscle mommies, went too far, and had to backpedal Myr'thos from sith muscle mommy bodyguard to non-binary, slur yelling, drink mixing violent bitch. Honestly, I like this version more, but the arc was still shit.
Anyways, happy belated Christmas, Hanukkah, or other unspecified end of year holiday! Hope you had some good food, be it large hams or buckets of chinese food. I hear both are popular on Christmas.
-Freefaller
1.7 ABY
Today was something resembling a joyous day.
Why? Well, today was the day that the 20th and final berth of the shipyards had been brought online!
With all 20 pumping ships out, the full backlog would be finished within just a few more months. By the start of 2ABY, the full backlog should be finished, and the yard can begin profiting the sector.
That's also around the time Abyssal Industries will finish setting up their production facilities, which will hopefully help invigorate local ship production sector wide.
As it stands, it's currently sorely lacking, with the Mard here on Minda being the only one capable of capital ship production. The other yards are all small civilian production facilities.
They plan on entering the market with a new class of medium hauler, I hear. One meant for the many, many mid-sized companies in the sector, thanks to the Guild. With the benefit of building entirely in-sector, their lower prices and shipping times might just give them the edge they need
On my desk was the usual pile of nonsense. Reports on reports on reports. If my situation was different, I might enjoy some of the tedium. I held an office job before all this, and I didn't hate it. I found a sense of peace in the numbers, management and steady growth.
But this is the Empire, and as the Empire loves to do it sucks the joy and whimsy out of all things. I suppose that's a side effect of tyranny and all that.
Regardless, I look through them, as is my duty. Most are the usual. Status reports on various things. From education to trade to defense and more. Nothing particularly unusual. The Council is doing fairly well at delegating things these days, and the internal corruption watch reports nothing wrong with them or any other Imperial personnel system wide.
And the doubly internal corruption watch reports nothing wrong with the normal corruption watch.
That's when I get to the real meat and bones. The reports were handed to me by three people.
The first is from Darna. It details HAVEN's activities across the sector. Mostly intel gathering at this stage, finding out where major slavery and cartel logistics are based out of, trying to identify major buyers, sellers, middlemen, etc… and of course her report on whether or not Thorne was a traitor. Still a no, even if she sounds annoyed to write it.
The second is from Thorne. It confirms much of Darna's information, and also includes reports on suspected rebel elements in the sector. Not many, and what is there seems to be mostly logistical. The plan is to keep an eye out, reinforce the yard, and blow up a few pirates every now and again and call them rebels. Keeps them thinking their hidden and safe, and away from important infrastructure.
The final report is from Dornun, the most smug deadbeat I've ever met. His message isn't nearly as straight forward as the others, all flowery and full of bullshit. Regardless, he gets his point across. He's found more candidates for other positions, the kinds of people who want to make a change, but not enough to start blowing up Imperial property. Good, I'm going to need that energy to make some administrative changes and get rid of corrupt officials.
He also included a cheeky little warning that the ISB were looking into me, as the next Moff, and were likely to send someone to meet with me soon, likely not long before the promotion. Calmly, I send an encoded message to Darna and Thorne to keep things on the down low for now.
The ISB may be Imperial, and therefore corrupt and inept, but they were still the ISB, the Emperors janitors, and not to be fucked with. I'd gotten lucky with Thorne. It wouldn't happen again.
Collating it all, I start planning ahead
Much of the information I've received is what I'll need to eradicate slavery from the sector. However, it's not enough.
See, the Empire isn't just cool ships and dramatic theme music. It's an oppressive, crushing regime of intolerable evil.
I'd avoided the worst of it, make no mistake. And if I'd had my wish, I would've stayed Governor and been able to keep avoiding it, generally keeping my head down and trying to survive. I'm no hero, after all.
But now? I'm about to step into a position of power. A position that can actively change things for the better. I may not want that position, not at all. I'd rather be doing a million other things.
However.
In a sense, I chose this. I may not want to be here, but I could've left beforehand. There have been opportunities. Even with all the multitudes of risk involved I could've left. It's not guaranteed death for me.
But I decided that this route was safer. That it was safer for me to stick to this path and wait for the Empire to fall, for the galaxy to fall to chaos, before I make my escape. After all, what's one missing Moff in a galaxy on fire?
Regardless, the fact of the matter is that I chose to continue down this path, and that means that for as long as I hold this office, no matter how much I hate it, I will fulfill my duty to the people.
It's like an office worker's code of honour. I don't like my job, but I'll do it anyway, and do it well!
And of the people who I now serve, some are slaves. This is unacceptable to me. Both economically and morally. The latter I've said before. It makes only a small few rich and harms the economy overall. The latter should be obvious. All people deserve freedom.
The problem that arises is how to accomplish this when Imperial Law itself outright states that slavery is legal. I can't contradict the Emperor. For all that Moffs and Governors are like little kings in their playgrounds, at the end of the day Empires exist to serve an Emperor, and that fascist little wrinkled anus is pure evil.
So no, I can't roll up to the Moffs chair, sit down, and declare slavery illegal. I'd get shot. Instead, I have to play the long game, and that involves a lot of information gathering, political games, and economic pressure.
Suffice to say, I'm going to make slavery very, very expensive.
-
1.7 ABY
Arkia System
Arkia Prime
Poti Grinta
"They always create such a stench, don't they Commandant?" Laughed the corpulent man, rolls of fat undulating like waves.
"That they do! Then again, I suppose that's simply the smell of a high profit margin, eh?"
The two guffawed at the joke as if it was the funniest one in the galaxy. Poti kept his face straight, gaze sharp but disinterested in the joke.
All the while, his concentration stayed with the two men. The fat one was a higher up, an advisor in the government of the Arkia system, one of the men with the Governor's ear. The other was the Commandant of this particular slave camp.
And right now, Poti wanted nothing more than to raise his blaster and hose the two of them down. He'd been a slave, seen the worst the system had to offer, watched his family be destroyed by it. But he couldn't do it. Not now.
His training flashed through his mind unbidden. The words of his instructor, face and voice hidden, aboard a ship he knew not the name of.
Hands in the dark, eyes on the dawn.
Poti cannot afford to break his cover now, or the slaves below may never see the dawn. So he straightens his back, looks off into the middle distance, and listens.
The two men are moving away now, into the hallways. Poti and another guard follow, as they were assigned to the commandant's retinue.
The next dozen minutes are a special sort of hell for Poti, listening to the two of them yammer on as if they are not responsible for the ruining of hundreds, if not thousands of lives.
Stopping at a window, the advisor looks out a window into the pens, watching the slaves turn stone into slabs like a living factory. He eyes one slave, a red twi-lek woman, newer to the pens and less dirty than the others.
"Oh? See one you like?" Says the commandant. Poti almost freezes, his heart pounding. Abuse is a regular occurrence in a place like this, but the slaves are too dirty for any Imp to ever consider them like that.
"Hmmm…not bad. I usually abstain. Old age and all. But…" The advisor seems to consider it, a sick gleam in his eyes.
Glancing around, Poti notices that there are no eyes on him. As the twi-lek glances up, noticing them having stood at the window for longer than normal, her eyes widen.
Up in the window, she spots a large, fat man eying her with a look she's gotten all too often. A disgusted shiver runs up her spine, but before she can react she notices a guard near them, face hidden by the shadows and the sun in her eyes.
The guard raises a closed fist to his mouth, and she understands.
Quickly, she starts coughing, violently in a corner. Back inside, Poti resists the urge to sigh.
It was risky, but his positioning should've hid his face from view.
A look of disgust is visible on the advisor's face, and he turns away, done leering.
The next hour continues as the previous did. Bad jokes, barely hidden corruption, and a dinner that wasted more food than the slaves ever got to see.
It was during that dinner the Poti caught some interesting tidbits of information as he stood guard.
Through his earpiece he could hear the conversation inside the room, courtesy of a connected bug he'd planted last night as part of the preparations.
"So, Advisor. I've heard the Guild has been expanding even more lately. And somehow the news keeps getting spread to slaves everywhere. Why, a few of my peers have complained about uprisings!"
"So true, Commandant. So true. It's downright un-Imperial what these Guilders are doing! But don't you worry, my good man. I have it on good authority that we'll be getting some assistance with the matter quite soon. We will weather this storm as we've always done."
Assistance? Poti searched his mind, trying to find any possible connection. The Hutts? Possible. Their presence in the sector had been weakened by both the Guild and rivals like the Crimson Dawn and Zann Consortium.
But the former was just rumors, as the syndicate had reportedly been dissolved. And the latter, while powerful, had lost its assets in the region and was apparently focused elsewhere. So why would the Hutts bump up these people?
Convenience? Maybe. It was too early to tell. All Poti really knew was that this had to go in his next report, no matter what.
Still, as the day ended and Poti returned to his barracks, in the back of his mind he hoped that the day would soon come that he could use those thermal detonators he'd buried out in the hills. The people here would be saved.
That's why he'd joined HAVEN, after all. To build that dawn.
-
Yo. I hath returned. Christmas in South America is a special sort of humid hell. But then again, the original plan was to visit LA, and its pouring over there right now. Also, I've been writing for other stories as well. I've decided on a rotation of sorts. As much as I love this story as my first, it's an absolute behemoth to wrangle now, so I figure rotating between this, my other star wars fic, my original work and my new goofy 40k fic, I can keep myself from burning out.
Also, plans! I've actually got something resembling an arc planned out now that Las is almost a Moff! Don't worry, it'll hopefully go better than the absolute rushed mess that was the whole cult arc. Pretty sure I was just thirsty for muscle mommies, went too far, and had to backpedal Myr'thos from sith muscle mommy bodyguard to non-binary, slur yelling, drink mixing violent bitch. Honestly, I like this version more, but the arc was still shit.
Anyways, happy belated Christmas, Hanukkah, or other unspecified end of year holiday! Hope you had some good food, be it large hams or buckets of chinese food. I hear both are popular on Christmas.
-Freefaller
NuclearDiplomacy
Getting sticky.
- Joined
- Apr 13, 2021
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Yeah, being a undercover agent sucks cause you get to see ALL of the horrendous activities in all their despicable glory, but in order to maximums your effectivness, you cant do any thing at that moment
Thanks for the chapter and have a great new year!
Thanks for the chapter and have a great new year!
Bananapeel3126
Making the rounds.
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- Mar 11, 2023
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Hahahahaha mard
cmrdpm
Getting sticky.
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- Jul 20, 2023
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Merry Christmast Freefaller, I bring you the gift of a typo decked out in holiday colors:
JadedBark
Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?
- Joined
- Aug 3, 2022
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Think you mean former?
noblej7
Not too sore, are you?
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- May 25, 2024
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I mean. Muscle mommy doesn't have to weird unless you make it weird and approach it naturally like the MC getting nervous because sonehow the only red skinned pure blood sith in existence is trying to seduce him for some reason! Must be a plot, a scandal just waiting. Is fraternizing with bodyguards a expressly forbidden rule?.
Just think. We could have had a sith trying to have the MCs kids both for passing down the bloodline and to leverage the children for influence over the MC because that's how she was taught to think about marriage and children. Then we get some character development as she socialized with others and breaks the warped sith perspective on using relationships for nothing but power dynamics. And see the path to wholesomeness occur. Muscle mommy ends up becoming a muscular mommy. And we end up seeing her take bodyguard work much more seriously as she gets possessive over her little slice of heaven.
Just think. We could have had a sith trying to have the MCs kids both for passing down the bloodline and to leverage the children for influence over the MC because that's how she was taught to think about marriage and children. Then we get some character development as she socialized with others and breaks the warped sith perspective on using relationships for nothing but power dynamics. And see the path to wholesomeness occur. Muscle mommy ends up becoming a muscular mommy. And we end up seeing her take bodyguard work much more seriously as she gets possessive over her little slice of heaven.
HidinginPlain
Not too sore, are you?
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Looking forward for more
OrderedOrb
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Appreciate the new chapter, this is easily one of the better and more interesting Star Wars fics on this site. Don't worry about rushing anything, take your time and go with a cycle that works for you to keep from burning out.
Profilozof
Versed in the lewd.
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My man here to bully rich people, I adore him
AldariSiradla
Spirit Boy, Police Girl
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The road to stamp out corruption...
Is a long and exhausting road.
But someone's gotta do it.
And it better be someone that wants it to end.
Is a long and exhausting road.
But someone's gotta do it.
And it better be someone that wants it to end.
dreammag
Not too sore, are you?
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MC: 'imma gonna tax them based on goods value!'
Random clerk 9693: 'but... You cant put a price on living being?'
MC, manic gleam in his eyes: 'But you can! Oh you can.... Some even say 'life is priceless'!'
Random clerk 9693: 'What does a proverb mea.... OH... Oh....'
Both then proceed to smile like patients of mental ward while laughting maniacly.
Random clerk 9693: 'but... You cant put a price on living being?'
MC, manic gleam in his eyes: 'But you can! Oh you can.... Some even say 'life is priceless'!'
Random clerk 9693: 'What does a proverb mea.... OH... Oh....'
Both then proceed to smile like patients of mental ward while laughting maniacly.
Saethyr
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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By law slavery was actually illegal in the Empire, indentured servitude as punishment for crimes on the other hand...
And before Disney decided to make Empire as cartoonishly mustache twirling evil as possible, slavery and piracy were two things that Empire cracked down heavily.
oscar e Sampedro Lopez
Experienced.
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- Jan 29, 2020
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Thanks for the chapter Great story as always.
Introverted
Versed in the lewd.
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Well despite that the (Legends) Empire did have other totally not slavery actions like indentured servitude, penal labor and the classical these alien species are reclassified as animals.