Governor's Gambit - Star Wars SI/OC into Imperial Governor

by Freefaller54

Summary:

Unceremoniously tossed into the Star War's galaxy, newly named Las Mola must navigate the responsibilities and dangers of being an inexperienced Imperial Governor, all while trying to drag the outback of a system he's found himself stationed on into an acceptable level of civility, before his career officer mother tosses him into the Imperial Infantry to die on some backwater planet.

Shits bad.

Crossposting from Spacebattles

Chapter 1: Chapters 1-10

Chp-1: Fuckin’ Nepo-Baby’s

“No, we will not be burning a quarter of the city to… “send a message”... as you put it”.

“But if nothing is done then the protests will continue, Sir!

I resisted the ever-growing urges to sink my face into my hands and scream. Instead, I straightened my back, looked the Imperial Garrison’s commander in the eye and told her that under no circumstances was she allowed to burn a quarter of the city just to stop protests.

Never before have I seen a grown woman pout.

After she was dismissed from her duties, I took the opportunity to stand up and walk over to the window at the end of my office. It overlooked the city that sprawled out before the Capitol Building my office sat at the top of, giving me quite the view.

The city itself was not very large, 40,000 people at most, and that was only because it was the capital of the planet. The building I was in was a 5 story building that functioned as both my home, office, and center of bureaucracy for both the city and the planet as a whole.

The view was one of the few things that calmed me down, the wonder of being able to see a sci-fi city with my own two eyes. When I woke up in this new body of mine, I had an understandable freakout. Thankfully, I had been alone in my office and the view out the window had been enough to calm me down.

My situation is thus. I have found myself reborn as the Imperial Governor of a minor planet by the name of Minda 3. This outer rim backwater was primarily an agricultural export, though there was little to export in the first place. As governor, I technically had control over the entire system, but Minda 3, out of the 4 planets in the system, was the only easily colonizable one here.

Make no mistake, this system is resource rich. The other livable planet, Minda 5, is chock full of trees and life, while the remaining planets are bound to have something worthwhile, not to mention the asteroid belts. However, Minda 5 is a jungle hellhole that would make Catachan look like the suburbs, making colonization near impossible without heavy duty equipment. Even then, the natives would not look kindly on any attempted invasion.

“But Las” I hear you pester “the other 2 planets would be perfect for strip mining”. And you would be correct, little snotling, and Imperial mining operations here could gain quite a lot of material. However, the Empire being the bundle of incompetence that it is, won't allow it because of politics.

You see, there are 1,024 sectors of the Galactic Empire. Each sector is governed by a Moff. Each Moff is given a sector group of 24 ISD’s and varying accompanying escort ships to patrol their sector, along with whatever they can scrounge up for themselves. The Minda system is situated in the Myto sector, which you may or may not recognize as the home of the Dubrillion system, where Lando Calrissian lived as the administrator of the planet Dubrillion.
Now, why is this important? Well, the Moff of the Myto sector also lives on Dubrillion, and spends all of his time in some nice penthouse, doing fuck all, giving all the easy jobs to nepotistic lackeys. This means that when the Minda system was initially colonized by Imperial efforts, it was to fulfil a quota. A 4 planet system, only one of which is easily colonizable, isn't the type of system to provide short-term benefits, and so it was overlooked.

I don’t really mind all of this, to be honest. A fairly easy life, with decent luxury on a fairly idyllic planet, with enough money and a starship to escape if/when things go to shit. At least, that’s what I thought until I had time to dig through the dearly departed governors memories.

Las Mola was a Coruscanti rich kid, and a disgrace. His mother, Commandant Jir Mola, had moved their family from Coruscant when Las was only 10 to Eriadu, homeworld of Grand Moff Tarkin, to become the Overseer of the Imperial Academy of Eriadu. Such a position was only possible due to her experience as one of Tarkin's more competent underlings.

Las was a rather pesky kid, and considering his mother’s position he was a clear fit for the arrogant young master stereotype of wuxia fiction. He had been driven to this attitude as a result of his family.

His mothers prestigious position and achievements aside, all 3 of his older sisters had accomplished much. The oldest, Shal, was 30, and yet already the Captain of an ISD in the Abrion sector (where Scarif is), the second oldest, Zyx, was only 27, but was a decorated agent of Imperial Intelligence, and the youngest, Alvi, was an ace Tie pilot at 25.

Meanwhile, Las, lazy ass that he was, flunked out of the Eriadu Academy, and, not wanting to deal with her embarrassment of a son, Jir had him set up as the governor of the Minda system. While that seems like an honor, the state of the Minda system as an undeveloped, poor agricultural community meant that there was no prestige or advancement to be had, and it was in a forgotten and near barren sector of the galaxy where Las could not bring shame to the Mola name.

“Again”, I hear your disgusting voice snort, “I don't see what’s so bad about that, just don’t cause a ruckus and you’ll be fine”. And you would be right, bloat-bag, but there’s one detail I failed to mention. Mother dearest had tasked Las with making something of this backwater system in 2 years, else she would have him tossed into the meat-grinder that is the regular Imperial Infantry, sent to die on some shithole against some natives like that mess that happened on Mimban.

Of course, now that I’M Las Mola, that meant that by 0BBY I had to make Minda worth a damn, or at least not a complete shithole, or run the fuck away and hope that I can hack it in the wider galaxy.

As I’m reminiscing on the sorry state my life now is, I look down out of the window to see the protestors at the foot of the building.

According to Los’s memories, the farmers were protesting over the increased taxes instituted onto them by Los upon his arrival. It had been an attempt to squeeze the people, and gain some cash to then escape with.

Not the worst plan, all things considered, except for the fact that Zyx is basically a super-spy, and would certainly find him in whatever hovel he hid in. That meant only one thing for me. One horrible thing.

I would have to actually do work.

Fuck.

 

Chp-2: I will Criminalize Paperwork

Looking down at the protesters, I pondered on my potential courses of action.

This bodies previous owner had already fucked the dog in regards to the people of Minda 3 with his absurdly high taxes, and therefore had ruined his(and by extension my) reputation before I had the chance to win some popularity.

Now, just reducing the taxes back wouldn't be enough, as people would remember me as the governor that hiked taxes, no matter what I do.

Stepping out of the elevator into the foyer of the building, my personal guard met me with a salute, the white plastoid armor of the troopers gleaming under the lights. These 10 Stormtroopers were some of the 225 that were assigned to Minda 3 as my personal guard/shock troops. More populated/advanced/rebellious planets usually get larger amounts of these elite shock-troops, but as a backwater, Minda got a single company of 225, on top of the 5 companies of regular troopers and the like.

Standing nearby, speaking to another officer was the Garrison Commander, Kaela Grant. Upon noticing me, she immediately saluted me.

When she was like this, she actually looked respectable. She was a tanned skinned blonde, with high cheekbones that gave her an air of authority, enhanced by her sharp green eyes and sharper military uniform. All of which is immediately ruined the moment she opens her mouth.

“Sir! The protesters grow more treacherous with every second! I request permission to suppress them with extreme prejudice!”

Her eyes now gleam with an unnerving bloodlust. I don’t even think this is excessive loyalty to the Empire, I’m pretty sure she’s just insane.

“Aren’t you Alderaanian, Commander?”

“And?”

“...I was under the impression Alderaanian culture valued pacifism.”

“It does.”

I blinked. “Ah…understood…my answer is still no”

From there I turned away, avoiding her incoming puppy eyes, and made my way to the entrance of the building, my guards following close by.

“What's the plan, sir?” a trooper who’s name I couldn’t remember asked.

“I’m going to negotiate”

“That sounds dangerous, sir. Couldn’t you send a planet-wide holo-message instead?”

“I could. But then they’d see me as a coward. That's bad for business.”

 

“Business sir?”

“Yes. The business of living”

I exited the building, walked across the courtyard as the noise of the protestors got louder and louder, and made my way to one of the guard towers on the wall.

An army trooper, clad in the stark black of common imperial infantry, was on the wall, screaming at the crowd through some sort of voice amplification device.

I climbed up the tower, and snatched it from his hands.

I then proceeded to do what all politicians are practically born to do.

I spewed absolute bullshit.

“Good people of Minda 3! My name is Las Mola, your governor, and I’m here to speak to you regarding the recent changes!”

I was, predictably, met with screaming, anger, and general discontent. Thankfully, the one armored company I had came with some At-ST’s. While I have made and will continue to make my dislike of the chicken walkers clear, their intimidate factor in this situation made certain that the protestors wouldn’t start throwing rocks or thermal detonators my way.

“To clarify regarding the increased taxes! That was a mistake based on faulty information! I had been under the impression that Minda 3 had larger manufacturing capabilities! I apologize for this inconvenience, rest assured that taxes will return to their normal rates, and those responsible for the faulty info have been dealt with!”

Of course, this was not at all true. Las had pumped up taxes because of his own stupidity, then dropped the bag and left me to deal with it. I suppose in that sense, the one responsible has been dealt with, but telling the people here that I’m not at fault because I’m a reincarnator. That would just get me tossed in an asylum. Or shot. Or both. Probably both.
“To those who have already paid the increased tax, the difference will be sent back to you. To those who haven’t, you are being given an extra week to pay. That is all.”

Short, direct, with no grandstanding. I figure the more rough and tumble farming populace would be happier with that, rather than me going on and on.

With the tax problem out of the way for now, I headed back to my office. As much as I would like to lay down and never wake up, for better or worse(for sure worse) I ran a solar system, and had a sword of damocles hanging over my head. That means I have to do work. A lot of it.

As soon as I sat in my chair, I hit the intercom button and called my secretary. A blue skinned Twi'lek woman by the name of Darna Sabrir that Las had chosen for the position purely because of her looks. Thankfully, she’s actually fairly competent at her job.

“How may I assist you, Governor?”

“Could you please compile a report for me on the population centers, major infrastructure, military forces, and general heavy equipment we have?”

“...Of course sir. Will that be all?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She was for sure surprised. Why else would she pause? I had just asked for paperwork. Paperwork! The one thing that the original Las and I share in common is our utter disdain for paperwork. God-awful stuff. Unfortunately I actually need a comprehensive list of Minda 3’s population centers, infrastructure, military forces, and all heavy equipment we have if I’m to actually make something of this rat-shit ball of dirt.

You see, now that I’ve dealt with the taxes, I had to make this system profitable. To do that, my first thought was population. Planets are big, but with Minda 3 having what I can only assume is a small population, there’s no way the full potential of the planet is being utilized. How many fields go unplanted? Forests not being razed to the ground? Wells of natural resources not being plundered? All because there aren’t enough people?

These thoughts consume me for the next hour and a half, a million half baked ideas hastily typing these out onto my personal datapad. Everything from expanded farming to strip-mining to asteroid mining to mass deforestation. If I thought it might work, it went on the list.

That's when the terminal on my desk chimed, indicating that I had received a message. Opening it I found a fairly comprehensive list of all the things I asked for. While it was filled with quite a lot, the basics could be boiled down into this.

Population: 200,000 - 40,000 in Accordia(Capital), 15,000 in Rolling Green’s(Biggest farming city), 10,000 in Augir(Mining city), with the rest spread amongst small villages and farming towns, none reaching above 1,000.
Military: 1 company of 200 StormTroopers(50 of which are my personal guard)+support personnel stationed in the capital. 35,000 assorted general troops and support personnel. 1 armored company of 232 personnel, with 10 medium tanks, 10 light tanks, 8 heavy tanks, 9 heavy weapons repulsor lifts, and 4 AT-ST. 2 squadrons of 12 Tie fighters each, 1 Arquitens light cruiser, and 5 cargo-oriented Gozanti Class cruisers.
Infrastructure: the capital city stands at the center of a large plain on one of the 3 continents found on Minda 3, and the only populated continent. Stretching from the capital are a series of roads which connect with every nearby city of 500 residents or more. These towns then have rougher paths that connect to even smaller nearby towns and villages, creating a spider web like effect. Rolling Green’s is located some 200 miles north of the capital, and also acts as a central node for the spiderweb roads, and is also home to the largest grain refinery on the planet. Augir, on the other hand, sits some 330 miles to the southwest, and also acts like a road node. It holds the majority of the mining equipment on the planet, but does not have an ore refinery.

Looking over this, I can tell that I have my work cut out for me. Relatively low population means expansion is difficult, and relocating people in the smaller villages and towns would likely be a mistake, considering the fact that this place seems to be inhabited by the types of folk who would kill for their land. It would also invite the wrong kind of reputation to befall me.

So, instead of looking towards the individuals, I looked towards the organizations.

FieldTec Agricultural Concern: Largest company on the planet, owns 45% of the farms in Rolling Green’s
Minda Plains Union: Union consisting of a large portion of non-corporate farmers in Rolling Green’s and other large farming towns and cities.
YewCast: Largest of the few tech companies on Minda, they sell mostly home appliances to those living in the large cities, though they have been looking to expand.
KhaganMotors: Only decently sized vehicle manufacturing industry, relies mostly on imported parts to make frankenstein farming vehicles and the like.
Drillers United: Mining union that worked the mines of Augir and other mining towns.
Finally, there are the many family owned businesses that dot the planet, be they small farming companies, transport companies, repair/mechanics, and many more.

With all this in mind, I started to concoct a plan.

I needed support. I needed people to like me. That means I have to start from the top.

Looking over what I had, I made a decision. After speaking to my secretary, I waited for a few minutes. Eventually, my holopad built into my desk lit up.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Captain Ife Veer
Arquitens-Class Light Cruiser Gauntlet

Captain Ife Veer was bored.

This was an unfortunately common issue for her. Being assigned to Minda 3 had seemed like an opportunity for her. Sure, it’s a backwater, but the outer rim is filled chock full of pirates, rebels, and other ne'er-do-wells that infest these savage reaches.

But here she is, bored out of her mind, bouncing a small rubber ball against the wall of her office onboard the Gauntlet, floating in geosynchronous orbit above Accordia. Stuck in a dead end position, never to see the glory of combat.

Suddenly, her intercom chimes, messing up her throw and sending the ball careening into her jaw.

Wincing, she answered, and was incredibly surprised to see the face of the Governor, Las Mola, on the holo. He was quite young, at only 21 years of age, sporting a mop of scraggly black hair hidden under his cap, and a youthful face with slightly rounded cheeks. His skin was very lightly tanned, and his eyes were a muddy brown. Of course, none of these colors came through on the holo, but they were dragged from the depths of her memories when he called.

“Captain”

She snapped off a quick salute. “Governor, sir. How can I be of service?”

He studied her with sharp eyes and more intelligence than she thought he was capable of.

“What scanning capabilities does the Gauntlet have?”

“...Decent, sir. Enough to cover any attempts to land on the capital continent, at the very least”

“What other capabilities?”

“Basic military scan capabilities include high-frequency scanning, so the Gauntlet is a step above most civilian ships”

“Could the Gauntlet scan for wrecks and debris?”

She paused for a minute, debating the question. Finally, she answered.

“Unless they are buried deep, it’s possible.”
His eyes seemed to shine.

“Good. I want full scans of the other major landmasses of Minda 3, along with scans of the other planets in the system. Once finished, report your findings back to me.”

“Apologies for questioning your orders, sir, but that would leave the capital undefended!”

“Correct Captain. Thankfully, there’s not much of worth here. Something I wish to rectify. So get to it.” With that, he shut the holo off. Rude, but that was the last thing on Ife’s mind.

Scanning for wreckage? Minda had always been a pass-through system at best, but it had been the site of some CIS and Republic sites and skirmishes. Any wreckage, while old, might still hold value.

Ife smiled, a terrifying thing. The governor finally seemed to be doing something interesting. She only hoped it might lead to some fun.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Governor Las Mola
Capitol Building, Accordia

As I closed the holo call and moved onto my next set of actions, I shivered slightly. As if a great beast had just started to awaken.

Regardless, I put those thoughts, and their potential consequences aside, and prayed that they would never resurface.

After my bout of self-delusion, I made another call, this time to the leader of Drillers United.

The holo powered up, and there stood the visage of what I could only call a stereotype. A grizzled man with a large beard, wrinkles, and what could only be the stains of dust and soot clinging to his uniform answered.

A gruff voice blared from the call.

“Governor. Whaddya want?”

The tone was disrespectful, but I think I can change that. Just can’t show him that I’m legitimately intimidated. And through a holo-call? That would be embarrassing.

“President Kree, I have a business proposition for you.”

“I don’t take bribes”

Good. Not what I was saying, but good.

“I assure you, it’s nothing of the sort. I was instead hoping to utilize your connections to
improve and expand Minda’s mining industry, creating more jobs and expanding the economy. Do you happen to have any contacts in the asteroid mining business?”

“…I’m listening.”

Fuck yeah.

Let's get this bread.

 

Chp-3: Love Dat Trash
I was sat in my office, doing Very Important Work. I was brute force calculating the precise necessary trajectories needed to maximize potential profit and secure overwhelming victory.

“Kobe!”

The rubber ball missed wildly, bouncing throughout the room, forcing me to cower bravely take cover behind my desk.

From my hiding place fortress steel, I heard the hiss of the doors to my office. Immediately, I jumped into my seat and flattened my uniform just in time for Darna to walk into my office. Clad in the stark grey uniform most imperial bureaucrats wear which contrasted nicely with her teal blue skin, she cut a sharp, professional figure. The type of office worker you know gets shit done.

“Hello Darna, what hav-” Before I could greet her, my totally calculated high velocity projectile rebounded off a wall, smacked the top of my skull, and went flying right into Darna’s waiting hand.

I withered under her glare as I rubbed the top of my head.

“I see you're working hard” she says in a clearly unamused tone.

“I was brute force calculating the precise necessary-”

“You were playing with a ball”

“I was playing with a ball”

A silence stretched between us, one that Las’s memories told me were not unlike those suffered under his mothers wrath.

With a sigh, she placed a datapad on my desk. Taking the opportunity for what it is, I quickly engrossed myself in the numbers. Whatever makes her stop looking at me like a disappointment.

“The prospectors from Eckshi Mining have reported that the asteroid belts are filled not only with a bevy of dwarf planet sized asteroids, but there seem to be some fairly considerable possible resource deposits. They’re asking to buy the rights to portions of the belt.”

“Absolutely not. I’m willing to rent out portions of the belt for mining claims, but no permanent ownership”

Hopefully, this system would allow me to make some solid cash. Enough, and I could fund some new infrastructure. I was thinking of setting up a refinery/mining base on one of the super-asteroids, which could fund other expansions, which would fund other expansions, and so on and so forth.

Then I realized something.

“Darna, why are you here in person? This could have been sent directly to my terminal”

She seemed to pause, like a deer caught in headlights. A clear nervousness in her body language told me that whatever she was about to say, it couldn’t be good.

“...I just wanted to ask about your plans moving forward”

Odd, but I doubt this is the crux of the issue. “What about them?”

“...I wanted to know where you are going to source the…labor for your upcoming infrastructure projects.”

Labor…oh! “Don’t worry about it, I don’t do that slavery shit.”

My crude language seems to surprise her, almost as much as my declaration. “But wouldn’t it be easier…?”

“First of all, slavery is for braindead social climbers who can’t comprehend the real worth of sentient capital. Secondly, if I bring slaves into the system, that means slave labor businesses will start setting up shop, taking work from the locals. Not only will that inevitably invite more crime(the Hutt’s terrify me, though I won’t tell her that), but it’s bound to get my office firebombed by protesters and my mailbox pumped chock full of anthrax! Also slavery is just bad for local businesses, including me, so…”

Darna just stands there, frozen in what must be complete awe of my incredible speechifying skills.

“...you don’t support slavery…because it's bad for business?”

“And because I can comprehend the worth of sentient capital, yes.”

She just stares at me in confusion. I sigh, wishing I had a whiteboard or something(investment idea? Don’t know who would buy one with holograms around but maybe?).

“Okay, so think of it like this. People, that is sentients, produce value. They do this by getting an education, working a job, buying things, paying taxes. While cheap labor can produce shit real cheap, those slaves aren’t producing as much value for the economy and society as they would if they were free, educated, and working better jobs. With more people engaging in the economy, more companies spring up, more inventors, more investments, more new technology, etc… This allows the society as a whole to grow. All slavery really does is produce cheap labor, and throws away all the potential those slaves might have. How many might become doctors, decorated war heroes, hyper-skilled scientists and inventors? How many of them might change the world? It’s a waste I tell you, complete and utter waste. Not only that, but slaves are people, with emotions, a will to live, etc… that means that by enslaving people, I would be inviting their hatred onto myself. I’m trying to MINIMIZE the number of enemies I make, and slavery would mean a whole CASTE of people would hate my guts. That's not worth it to me, no siree.”

Confusion and wide eyes. Does she not get it? “Ahh, whatever, you don’t gotta get it. Anyways, while you're here, has Captain Veer sent any reports?”

The query seemed to rile her from within her mind, and she snapped straight back into secretary mode.

“Ah, yes sir. Captain Veer has already done scans of both remaining continents planet-side, along with both moons, and is currently in the process of scanning Minda 2. Apparently, the other continents are more diverse in regards to biomes, while both moons have some deep canyons that could hold both mining facilities or hidden defense hangers. Also, the wreckage of an old Republic Acclimator has been identified on Minda 3-A, though due to the precarious positioning of the wreck, the Captain thought it too dangerous to investigate.”

An Acclamator? I slid my datapad over to me as Darna sent the files. Opening the scan results up, it took me a few seconds to find the Acclamator. Looking at it, it was certainly in a bad position. Dangling over a ravine, the only reason it hadn’t fallen was because it hit the ravine at an angle, and the nose seemed to be stuck in the opposite wall, stopping it from sliding further. It would certainly be tough to recover, but it looked to be in decent shape.

Scorch marks marred the hull, but otherwise there seemed to be few penetrations, and no missing pieces or armor panels.

“Call up the Sector Office at Dubrillion, see if they can’t send some heavy-duty tractor-tugs out here. If we can restore this thing, it’ll make for a great cargo ship.”

“Cargo? I was under the impression it was a troop transport.”

“Was. The Greater Empire doesn’t take well to Republic symbology. One of the reasons they phased out LAAT’s. Using it as a troop transport might rub some fanatics the wrong way. Also, we don’t need mass troop transport. Might as well make a profit on this”

God I love money.

 

Chp-4: Darna Interlude
Secretary Darna Sabrir
Capitol Building, Accordia, Minda-3

What the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK!?!? An Imperial Governor that doesn’t immediately pivot into slavery?

Thought’s along these lines ran amok throughout Darna’s mind as she sat at her desk a day later, bouncing a rubber ball against her desk, accompanied by a sense of sheer disbelief.

Ever since her childhood, Darna had, like many Twi’leks, been a victim. Her mother had been an unnamed pleasure slave on the Wheel, an ancient den of sin space station out on the Perlemian trade route.

She had felt a collar around her neck since childhood, and only due to her wit and willingness to learn had she escaped before she suffered the same fate as her mother. Ever since then, she had run across the galaxy, trying to find a place she could call home.

She tried everywhere. From the deserts of Tatoinne to the bustling metropolis of Corellia, from the camaraderie of the Rebellion to Ryloth itself. Yet, the deserts held Hutt’s, the cities disdained her for being alien, the Rebellion brought constant risk, and Ryloth was filled with slavers, preying on her kind.

Who could’ve known that taking the position of secretary to a governor on a backwater planet in a backwater system would make her feel at home. The people here were too rural to care about species. Even the soldiers, brought from across the galaxy, seemed to have adapted to this culture. She was able to have conversations with fellow office workers without feeling like she was being eyed up, a price tag being attached to her within their minds.

And the governor himself. At first, he seemed to be just another spoiled rich kid given a comfy position. And he was certainly still childish, if that bit with the ball had taught her anything. Yet, with all that he was doing, and especially with that rant of his… she couldn’t help but feel hopeful. That Minda might end up being an island of peace in a galaxy of hate.

Before she could daydream any longer, a ding alerted her to a message. Looking down at her terminal, she realized it was a bevy of messages.

Some were mining companies asking to rent licenses. She, as per the governor's orders, only approved a few of the smaller companies, and steered clear of the megacorporations. Didn’t want to big a business moving in and crushing local competition.

One was another report from Captain Veer, confirming the wreckage of a destroyed Venator and 2 wrecked Munificents on Minda-4, the pictures did not give her hope of reconstruction. However, she quickly forwarded the message to the governor. Who would have thought that the only daughter of the esteemed Colonel Veers would not only be in the Navy, unlike her Army father, but also be stationed in the middle of nowhere.

The next message was a return from Dubrillion, approving the request for a heavy tug squad to be sent for the Acclamator, and stating that a prospecting and mining team was being sent to Minda now that the asteroid belts have proven profitable. Thankfully, Acclamators were equipped with the ability to land and take off from planets, so there was no need for specialist shipyards.

After that were return messages from various construction companies. All were smaller companies that had little going for them, so the governor had ordered offers to be made for them to set up shop on Minda 3. The idea was that their equipment holdings would be sold in exchange for both credits and some land claims on Minda 3, which the ex-owners could retire on. The companies would then be merged under the governor and used to build planet-side infrastructure. Along with these was a return letter from Takshun Orbital, agreeing to a contract to build a refinery on the largest of the dwarf-planet asteroids, along with the blueprints for an orbital station they had been contracted to draw up for the future.

Second to last were return messages from YewCast and KhaganMotors. YewCast had accepted the contract to create a basic communication infrastructure(though only if they got a percentage of the tax on it for a few years) and some new sort of communicator that was compatible with terminal and holonet tech. KhaganMotors, on the other hand, had accepted a contract to repair or salvage the vehicles found in the Acclamator once it was retrieved in exchange for both credits and the ability to keep some for themselves(without the weapons, of course)

Frankly speaking, Darna was worried. While all these projects were useful and potentially even vital, the governor was spending the Capitols savings quickly, and would be left with little currency in case of emergency. She could only hope that

These were all sent ahead to the governor in a compact form, but it was the final message that shocked her, sending the rubber ball flying right into her lekku, but she ignored the pain in favor of the message. It was on her datapad, what seemed like junk mail. But, with her past experience, she knew it was code. Rebel code used by the cell she had run with.

Quickly deciphered, it revealed a meeting point in Accordia.

Nervousness exploded in her chest. She had run with a Rebel cell for 2 years of her life before the constant death-defying odd’s finally got to her, and she left.

And if Rebels were here, what did that mean for her new position? She had it pretty good, all things considered. A decent boss, nice coworkers, good pay, hell, she even had insurance. If she reported the code, she could get the Rebels arrested and insure that her life here isn’t turned upside-down.

On the other hand, while the Rebellion hadn’t been the best fit, she had made good friends, the type she didn’t want executed.

Stealing herself, she deleted the message, and checked the time. Work was basically over, and she had a decent amount of time to get to the spot. She would go there, see what they wanted, then make her decision.

She could only hope that this didn’t spiral out of control.

 

Chp-5: Deal Time Babyyyyy
I once again was standing in my office, overlooking the city from one of the windows of my office. It's not even a particularly large office, so I don’t get those same window walls that Palpatine got when he was Chancellor. The lighting is nice though. And the chair. Very comfortable.

Accordia wasn’t a particularly large city, all things considered. The capitol building was the largest there, standing at around 5 stories. Just above my office was a security corridor that led to the rooftop, where there were 2 landing pads, one directly on the rooftop and one attached to the side with supports. Also on the roof were 2 quad barreled AA laser repeaters for anti-fighter screening. Aside from the TIE fighters and some assorted AA repulsorlift weapons platforms, they were the only AA defenses the city had.

The city itself was fairly low standing, with the tallest building aside from the capitol being the central comms tower a block down the street. Standing at 4 stories, it worked as a data processing center, comms tower/relay, and air/space traffic control.

The rest of the city didn’t breach 3 stories, and was mostly a combination of small office buildings/apartments, with the ground level being leased out to businesses. The material type of buildings actually changed outward in roughly concentric circles. In the center was the capitol building made of Ferrocrete with durasteel plating. Around the capitol building were other government buildings also made of Ferrocrete, including the comms tower, the downtown barracks, the military spaceport, etc… Going away from there are the business districts filled with office buildings and the like, mostly made of steel and concrete. Another ring away from them is where you get into pre-fab pourstone buildings. After that is where you get more locally made wooden buildings, though pourstone is still fairly common considering its durability and ease of use.

I turned from the window to go mope at my desk. It was a nice, if simple, steel desk with a terminal sitting at an angle on one side, and an intercom built into the desk on the other. 2 chairs sat opposite my own for guests. The rest of the office was a fairly small space, longer than it was wide. On both sides leading up to the door were fitted with filing cabinets, installed at my order. Within those cabinets were official, physicalized reports of materials, military strength, and other important statistics. While I miss the nice drawers and monitors that were there, these cabinets are better, and allow me to secure important documents like contracts in a place that can’t be hacked.

Unfortunately, that means I now have paperwork. And not just the messages on my terminal, but physicalized paperwork.

God truly is dead.

Regardless of my existential musings, I sat down at my terminal and began my day’s work with a cup of some local milk and pastries. The pastries were kinda like a poptart if they were made of fluffier bread and filled with a lemon like custard of sorts. Pretty good. The milk was bitter though. Going to have to ask Darna to source a different drink.

Flicking through the day’s messages, I ruminated on the progress made so far.

Already, a third of the asteroid belt had been rented out to a variety of small mining companies, and with the refinery on Minda 0-A-5(dwarf-planet asteroid) almost complete(Takshun works fast when they don’t have to fight for space) they would be paying me-sorry, the Empire, to have their resources refined to sell, or just selling to us directly.

Aside from that, the Imperial mining groups that had been approved were already setting up shop, mining on Minda 0-A-3 and prospecting other areas of the belt. This meant more ore for the refinery, which upon competition would start loading up the Gozantis and the Acclamator with refined ore to be sold to factories in neighboring systems.

Speaking of the Acclamator, it was…functional. The reactor and other vital systems had remained undamaged, and it stayed in a low power mode. This was nice, as it kept the internals breathable and the stored goods usable. Bad because now I had to fill its fuel cells. Expensive.

Within its hull was a number of goodies. This included a full complement of 80 LAAT’s(66 gunships, 14 transport), 5 of which were handed over to KhaganMotors so they could more easily deliver their products planet-wide. Aside from those, there were a smattering of speeder-bikes that were given to Commander Grant to distribute as she saw fit. If she happened to take a joyride or two, I was willing to look the other way. So long as she wasn’t out to kill, I was happy.

The last things in the hull were some crates of military equipment and some starfighters. The guns were outdated, to say the least. DC-15 A's were nice, with long range, and plenty of ammo, but suffered from weight and sustained fire problems, making them unwieldy in smaller spaces and short-medium ranged conflicts. They would also be handed over to Kaela, because despite what I can only assume is insanity, she is scarily competent and would know how to use them well. The starfighters, on the other hand, were odd. 10 or so V wings, the Clone interceptor, and 15 or so ARC-170’s, the Clone heavy fighters. All of these would be sent to the small starfighter emplacement here, to be trained in their use. While the V-Wings lacked life support, TIEs are similar, so we already have flight suits.

The biggest thing was a single starfighter. A Delta-7 Aethersprite-class light interceptor. A Jedi Starfighter. On one hand, having a pilot fly this thing well would be a massive boon to our air/space defense, as these things are incredibly agile. On the other hand, their internals are massively stripped of pilot assistance tools because its made specifically for Jedi to navigate with the help of the Force, meaning unless I risked the attention of the Inquisition and harbored a Jedi or other Force sensitive, I was gonna have to get rid of this ship.

Best way to do that? Sell it. Cause profit. And the best person to sell it to? Grakkus Jahibakti Tingi. A Hutt, crime lord of Nar Shaddaa, and prolific collector of Jedi artifacts, from lightsabers to holocrons to, in this case, starfighters. If I could sell to him, I could make a killing. Better yet, if I could sell this thing at auction on Nar Shaddaa that he’s attending, I could make even more! Some other Hutt’s might try to one-up him out of spite or whatever, but considering he has a vault dedicated to Jedi memorabilia, he’ll for sure out bid them. And even if he fails, I still get paid! Absolute victory!

Now I just have to figure out how to do that… Ah I’ll just send a message to Darna and see if she can turn up anything useful.

Moving on, I got to the worst part of my day. Spending money. And not on nice things, but on …public safety. Fuck(frak now, right?), I just want a space yacht and a sexy space wife and more money than I can conceive of, but instead I gotta worry about the public!?

I sighed. “Just 2 years. Just gotta do this shit decent for two years, then you can fake your death as the Empire collapses and jet away to some resort for the rest of your life.” My self-assurance complete, I returned to work.

On the list today were patrol craft. What with all the increasing industry, that meant that there was an increased chance at piracy. Those pesky profit takers have yet to make an appearance, so it's best to have some deterrents in place sooner rather than later. The entrepreneurs of violence will show up eventually, but if I have a decent defense, that’ll ensure that only the stupid(or crazy) show up, therefore passively reducing pirate numbers. They’re opportunists after all. Most smaller pirate crew’s won’t bother in more defended systems, because they’re too afraid. Only the ones with big ships and bigger ego’s will try something, and get fucking blasted out of orbit. But I digress.
There were many ships that I could purchase. The problem was three-fold. Acquisition, Cost, and Labor. Not all the ships I was thinking about were accessible, either because they weren't sold, weren’t finished, or haven’t been conceived of yet. On top of that, while I was solidly in the black now that those contracts and ore hauling had started to pay off, I wasn’t swimming in credits. And finally, even with an influx of new businesses and the gears of economy chugging away, I still lacked all that many people. The population of Minda 3 had only gone up by some 3,000 people(excluding births, that is).

Then I came upon a solid choice. I needed something powerful enough to scare pirates, fast enough to respond to emergencies, small enough to man it, and cheap enough to buy them. What I found, was the CR92a Assasin-class Corvette. Standing at 139 meters in length, it was stronger in both armament and armor than its CR90 cousin. It boasted 6 dual turbolaser batteries, 2 quad laser cannons, a proton torpedo launcher, and a tractor beam projector. Put in groups with the ARC-170’s and V-Wing’s that were found in the Acclamator, and there was a solid anti-piracy squad.

The CR92a would act as a powerful center-line, raining turbolaser fire on enemies, while 2 ARC-170’s could both engage the enemy and keep fire off the CR92a with their rear mounted turret.. The V-Wings would utilize their mobility to flank and harass the enemy. Pirate’s wouldn’t have a chance, and the profit margins would stay healthy!

With all that done, I sent out the orders for 4 CR92a’s, costing me a heft 10 million credits, leaving only 5 mil for emergencies of the state(If/When I need to cut my losses and take off).

Now that I had finished all the grueling work, I decided to lean back and doze off for a minute.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, the whirring of my door jolted me away.

Clearing my eyes, I blinked them open just in time to see Darna walk through the door lookin mighty nervous.

“You alright there? Look like you saw a ghost?”

“...no sir. Just met with some…old friends. Told them you were more of an enterprising type, and that they might get something out of dealing with you.”

She shuffled around, and I now understood what was happening with perfect clarity.

She’s embarrassed! She was chatting with some friends and had a few too many and accidentally promised she would introduce them to her boss! Of course, I won’t say anything, so as to not embarrass her any further. Instead I just nodded.

“I understand. When would they be willing to meet?”

Her eyes seemed to shine.

“I can have them here in 15 minutes sir!”

I could feel my eyebrows shoot up into my hat. That’s fast, what are they doing, camping across the street?

“Ok then, I’ll trust you on this.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sidheth T’vor
Minda 3, Accordia

As Sidheth waited anxiously for the elevator to climb, she thought back to how this whole debacle began.

She and the leader of Phyto Cell, Vilil, had been working on establishing a base/outpost somewhere in the outer rim. Dubrillion, and therefore Bespin, weren’t that far off and were bound to have plenty of targets of opportunity.

Minda had seemed like the perfect system. Near-empty, plenty of places to hide, etc…

Then she remembered something. An old friend of hers who had left Phyto Cell some years ago had taken up a job in the Capital of Minda 3, Accordia, as a secretary. So, when Phyto Cell came looking for spots, she and Vilil decided to go meet up with Darna, see how she was doing, and ask if she had any decent intel, considering she had been there longer than them.

It was to their surprise when she revealed that she was the secretary for the Imperial Governor of Minda. Apparently he was a cut above the rest of the Imps in regards to public policy and the like, and actually improved the state of the system he ruled.

She had scoffed at the idea, but here she was, a week later, in an elevator on the way to meet him as a potential “business partner”. Darna had said that he was more profit driven, and that they could probably hide their rebel business by just disguising it as legitimate and approaching him as if they were looking to buy land.

Walking into the office, she paused when she noticed the space. Or lack thereof. The office was fairly bland, the walls lined with cabinets, and a simple desk decorating the end of the room, situated near some windows.

Behind the desk sat a somewhat lean, pale skinned and brown haired man in his early twenties, though the bag’s under his eyes seemed to age him a whole decade.

“Ah, hello, hello, please, take a seat. Talia Fortath, correct?”

“That would be me.” She replied. Her cover story was as such. She was an entrepreneur that had contacted her old friend Darna to see about buying a license for development of orbital facilities in the asteroid ring. While these facilities would exist(thanks to the generous financial donations of some unnamed sympathetic senator), they would exist almost solely to disguise the fact that within would be rebel activity. The facility would conduct regular business, and if a package or data chip slipped or was forgotten every now and again, no one would take notice. And if there were some hangars that were never open to customers, that happens occasionally.

“So, you want a license to build a station here in the belt. From the forms submitted here, I can see that it would be an R&R general station. Light refit capabilities, some repairs, refuel, etc… While all that seems in order, I have you here for two reasons. The first is that you're Darna’s friend, so doing this over terminal might be a bit rude considering the effort she went through to get you here. The second is that I have a proposal for you.”

Sidheth went still as soon as she heard him say he had her, loosened up as he continued, and stiffened again at the end. A proposal? Was this the part where StormTroopers march in as he laughs maniacally and says “I propose you die, rebel scum!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA”. So she was pleasantly confused when he continued.

“You see, not too long ago I contracted a company by the name of Takshun Orbital from Ord Mantell to build the refinery complex out on the belt, and to draw up plans for an orbital station around Minda-3. This, when completed, would make your R&R station more or less obsolete. Instead, I wanted to talk to you about creating a refit station. You see, while the new station will have a great many facilities, it won’t have any way of refitting/repairing ships larger than light freighters. I’d like to instead create a joint project with you. I would provide a portion of the funding and control some docks of the yard for Imperial use only, while the other docks would be yours to do with, though we would still be taxing the whole operation. What do you say?”

Overwhelmed. That was an appropriate word. The governor had talked, and talked, and talked, and by the end of it she was actually fairly convinced. While the original station was definitely more hidden and secretive, it lacked the facilities to support any larger rebel activity in the area. With a scrap/refit/repair yard, they would be able to scrap ships for parts, then send those parts to cells who need them, right under the Imperial's noses.

Sure they would be in a fairly precarious position, but this had the potential to help the rebellion in way’s Phyto Cell had never before been able to. The scale, which was something the rebellion lacked, was great.

“I would have to speak with my team on this, but it is certainly promising.”

A smile bloomed onto his face. It seemed to glow like a golden credit chit.

“That’s wonderful. I hope to see you very soon!”

With that slightly ominous message, Sidheth left, sparing only a glance at Darna, who was busy on the comms, before heading to the elevator, and returning to base.

There was a lot of work to be done.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hell yeah! While she didn't confirm anything, the potential for a mixed scrap/repair/refit yard would be huge!

Sure, it wouldn't pull numbers like planet side scrap yards, but it would allow me to scrap those wreck Clone Wars ships in system instead of selling them, along with any future pirate vessels. It would let miners refit new equipment onto their ships, or repair damage from asteroids. It would let me upgrade/repair the ships in my slowly growing defense force. And the money! Fuck Yeah! I would for sure be charging people extra for repairs in an Imperial yard if the others were full!

Not to mention the taxes! Taxing the sales, the services, shuttle rides to the surface or the other station when built, the fucking snacks bought by people waiting for their repairs to be finished, Never in my life did I ever think I was gonna love taxes, yet here I am, the TaxMan himself.

However, I still had a problem. Population. There was a decent solution to this, however. Clones. And not new ones. I ain’t got the money for that. What I do have though, is a trade fleet of an Acclamator and 5 Gozantis flying about the galaxy selling ore. All it takes is a message, and they can start putting up posters and shit advertising a place for clones after they were displaced from the empire.

And they would still be in decent shape as well, as the only accelerated growth occurred during the initial stages. And by now, the chips in their heads either don’t work, were removed, or simply have no reason to be activated. This means that I get a solid population willing and eager to work, with prior military experience, and a solid loyalty if earned.

Honestly, it’s so hard not to win at this life thing.

 

Chp-6: Immigration Easy! No Green Card Needed!
For once, I am not coming to you from the safety of my office. Instead, I am standing in a refurbished LAAT gunship, one that had been repainted in Imperial colors.

The ship is flying fairly fast, the wind whipping across the bulkhead doors. We are enroute to the continent east of the main settlements, for the inauguration of the first real city there.

It has been a solid month since meeting with the entrepreneurs, and things were actually looking up. As jobs opened up on both the refinery station and across the planet, more and more colonists were streaming in, courtesy of the ad’s we put out. Apparently, people had been asking if they could get a ride on the trade fleet to Minda even if they weren’t clones, and with so much space, the captains had no reason to say no.

With all of that happening, the Minda system had seen an influx of nearly ten-thousand new people, with nearly two-thousand of those being clones. While the colonists had spread about the various towns and cities, a good portion flocked to a new factory being built by YewCast. After scouting was done, I had begun selling land to various companies and individuals on the other continents of Minda 3.

We had eventually decided that it was a good idea to actually name both Minda-3 and the continents within. Therefore, Minda-3 was now officially known as Ugea, the central capital continent, was called Shubeon, while the northern and eastern continents were Mukrix and Alhea respectively.

Alhea was found to have an abundance of metals in its mountains that, once refined, were useful in small electronic parts. YewCast had paid for a decent chunk of land around there for a factory and mining facility they wanted to build, in an attempt to consolidate their own supply-chain. I allowed it, on the condition that they helped with the setup of the city that was bound to spring up around there. And when the colonists came knocking, looking for work, there was a whole prebuilt city, ready for action.

In fact, once things had calmed down in the newly named city of Vrectin, I had let the people hold an election to determine their mayor for the next five years. It was a test-bed for introducing democracy to the people of the Minda system in slow doses. The hope was that, if I was able to ensure that the candidates were qualified, then these cities would be able to govern themselves, and sort out corruption themselves, therefore reducing the amount of paperwork I have to do.

After their first election, the new mayor had insisted that I come down and cut the ribbon of the Vrectin city hall, and have dinner with her and her wife.

So here I was, flying over to a cold shithole of four-thousand people, to cut a ribbon and politely decline dinner. Fuck.

At least the clones seemed to be doing well. In fact, the pilots of the LAAT that I was in were clones. The clones had taken fairly well to being treated like actual people once they arrived. Like the other colonists, they had been given tax cuts and the possibility of land grants/low interest loans to start businesses. The majority, however, fell right back into military positions. While some found their place in the army, or the system defense fleet, or as pilots, the majority wanted little to do with military conflicts. Those clones opted instead for joining the planetary police force. They patrolled streets, checked id at checkpoints, patrolled the roads between cities, and so on. There they fit right in, working in roles they were used to that didn't treat them like slaves or meat shields.

I am pulled from my musings to the pilots announcing our approach of the city. While the windows on the LAAT were small, I caught glimpses of cranes, smokestacks, and ferrocrete/pourstone roof’s. The ship shuddered as it made its landing, and the doors swung open to show a stark black landing pad, rimmed with yellow warning markers that matched the color of the YewCast logo emblazoned on the ground.

As I stepped out, my personal guard encircling me and checking the area, I was met by a Pantoran women of about fifty years or so. She sported a beige suit with ash colored linings and a badge above her heart in the shape of an eight-pointed star, while the center held the Imperial insignia and aurebesh inscriptions for wisdom, leadership, loyalty, surrounding the center. At the bottom of the badge was the simple title of Mayor of Vrectin. I had instituted these badges as simple identifiers. They weren’t overly flashy, but there was only one per city, so they had to be symbolically passed down from mayor to mayor. The hope was that this would help ease tensions between candidates, like how U.S presidents used to welcome the new president into office when they lost the reelection campaign.

“Hello Governor, it’s so nice to meet you, my name is…

At that point, I was just going through the motions. Shake hands, say pleasantries, walk, shake hands, etc… as I met with the mayor and her staff whose names I couldn't be bothered to remember. My attention was primarily focused on the buildings as we stepped into a landspeeder and took a tour of the city.

The biggest was certainly the YewCast complex, towering over the rest of the town, situated further up the mountainside. The factory was large, and seemingly built into the mountain, while long tracks stretched further up to the various mining facilities, their trains sending materials and workers and other sorts up and down. The rest of the city was mostly drab in its construction, with boring grays and beiges of ferrocrete and pourstone being the primary colors.

The most interesting thing wasn’t the city, but the people. Not only were there more non-humans here than in most other places, but everyone seemed to be utilizing a phone-like device.

It clearly isn't a smartphone, but something more like a PDA. Tablet-like, many were carrying them in arm-mounted holsters, or smaller versions slid into pockets. They were the first generation YewCast IntraLink PDA’s, the big phone project that I had paid for.

The IntraLink was incredibly useful. It connected to the still growing planetary comms network so you could access your home/work terminal from afar(assuming you had the credentials), it had picture/recording features, and many of the basic functions you would expect out of a smartphone. The more advanced IntraLink/Av was more expensive, and the one that I held in my breast pocket, which came with an embedded holo-system for holo-calls/recordings. It could also expand to fit more things on screen, though I wouldn’t be using it for long, as I had charged YewCast with making a military specific version in semi-secret(tighter lips, but not death-star secret). It would have better cyber-security and extra military specific-functions like tactical maps, easier connection to superiors, and more. I was hoping to expand production and see if I can’t sell them to other governors or military commanders for that extra bit of cash.

Some people were even playing the games that were developed for it! Real gaming consoles and the like were still a way’s off, but little mobile games were the start. The idea of course, being that since the Empire owns the communications system used to download things, people who make games will have to pay a tax to let people download the game, which means that they have to charge to buy the games, etc… Obviously the games currently available on the limited network are free, and work more as proof of concept for potential future companies, but it's a work in progress, and was fairly easy to implement at this level considering how much it might make in the future. The games market back on Earth was one of, if not the largest entertainment industry in the world, so imagine the profits on a galactic scale? Millions of loot boxes!!!

I’m once again pulled from my greed-filled musings as we finally land at City hall, I prepare to make a silly five minute speech and cut a ribbon.

I am so bored.

Just kill me.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alvi Mola
Imperial Factory, Experimental Wing, Lothal

Alvi was bored. So bored, she had resorted to bouncing a rubber ball against the wall for the better part of an hour while she waited.

She had done incredibly well in all of her tests back home, and had served for two years as an ace TIE pilot on the borders of Hutt space. She had even gone on a joint mission with some of the aces from Lord Vader’s personal Death Squadron. She was one of the best!

So, naturally, when she had been voluntold to test a new TIE prototype, she had been ecstatic! Few ever tried to innovate on the TIE design, because it was already well made and cost-effective, so to get to test state of the art TIE prototypes? It was a dream come true.

Problem is, ever since she got to Lothal, all she’s done is sit in simulators and fill out surveys for weeks! Not even some R&R! Her hair had been stuck in the regulation tight bun, and she wanted to flaunt her signature pigtails, and it sucked. Not for the last time she felt envy for her siblings. Shal was the captain of an ISD, so she could style her hair however she wished on her ship, and Zyx was a spy, she probably changed clothes and hairstyles all the time.

Even Las probably got to choose his hairstyle, since he was a governor and all. She sighed, as her thoughts turned to the youngest and only boy of the family. Las and her had been inseparable during childhood, but had drifted apart during their time at the Eriadu Academy. He had struggled with the subjects, and was almost always in trouble for contradicting the teachers opinions, or questioning orders, all while she had shot ahead straight into the pilot program.

And the dressing down Mom gave him was horrific. She didn’t say much, but the disappointment and disgust was visceral in a way only Commandant Mola could ever do. Las hadn’t just been booted from the academy, he had been stuck as a governor on a backwater. While governor was a good position, to be the governor of an outer-rim system was basically asking to either stagnate or get killed by pirates. If that wasn’t enough, he had to improve the system in real and tangible ways?

Honestly, it was horrible. Alvi understood why her mother had done it, Las couldn’t stay at the academy, or anywhere where he could further bring shame to the Mola family. But to threaten him with infantry service? She shuddered. To fight in the Imperial Infantry front lines was to be part of an unstoppable force that would toss as many bodies into a pit just to walk over the corpses instead of going around. Of course, she would never publicly say this, as disparaging the Emperor's armed forces wasn’t a good look, and she hadn’t gotten this far without some understanding of etiquette.

As she sighed deeply once more, ruminating on the fate of her brother, her com bead blared static for a second, startling her. She answered as the rubber ball went flying across the room, bouncing all over the place.

“Squadron Commander Mola, report to testing bay 12-C immediately, be ready for testing”
“Understood, Squadron Commander Mola en route.”

She quickly threw her flight suit on, but just as she put her helmet on, the rubber ball smacked into her cheek.

Rubbing the pain away, she put her helmet on and made her way out of the barracks.

Walking down the hallways, she passed a number of staff and droids, some of which gave her pitying looks as she passed. Clearly, they were worried she would die in testing. HA! As if, Alvi was one of the best!

With that self-assurance warming her chest, she entered the testing bay, only to pause in shock.

Before her, speaking with some officers and technicians, was a blue skinned Chiss man in a sharp white uniform. The badge on his chest indicated he was a Grand Admiral. And there was only one Chiss Grand Admiral in the Empire. As he turned to her, she did the only thing she could. She removed her helmet.

“Grand Admiral, Sir! Squadron Commander Alvi Mola, reporting for duty, Sir!” she saluted, a definite nervousness pervading her mind.

“At ease, Commander.” He said in a deep, somewhat gravelly voice. It sent shivers up her spine, and not the good kind. “Just the person I was looking for”

He turned, and gestures for her to approach.

“I’ve seen your scores, Commander. Quite impressive. Top 10 at your academy, top 5 of those here. Tell me, why haven’t you managed to make first place yet?”

Alvi was caught off guard for a moment. From a compliment to an insult? “...I like the TIE, sir, but it always felt… naked. I like a good adrenaline rush, don’t get me wrong, but the standard TIE is wildly dangerous, and I’ve never felt like I could give the Empire my all with it as my fighter. I always performed better in the sims when flying ships like the old republic V-Wing, since I felt like it had more to give.”

Thrawn seemed to study her face with his blood red eyes, staring into her soul. He smiled.

He then gestured down the hangar to a repulsorlift carrying in a ship. Her eyes widened, and a feral grin stretched across her face.

“Then commander, you will certainly be happy…
-Insert TIE/d pic here-
…with this.”

 

Chp-7: Upgrades, People, Upgrades!
Chp-7: Upgrades People, Upgrades!

My terminal hummed quietly as I surveyed the statistics of the Minda system. Three and a half months into this backwater position and I was doing pretty well for myself. A refinery in the belt, a scrapyard being built, new cities springing up, more colonists… Frankly speaking things are looking good.

And so, I turn my vision to the future. While things are good, they aren’t what I expect Las’s mother to consider adequate. While digging through his memories is a foggy experience, the general sense I get from Commandant Mola is harshness. The kind of person that sets high standards because she herself is capable of achieving them. Very much like Tarkin. Probably why he promoted her to Commandant.

In terms of further improvements, I have some options, which I have condensed into a plan of sorts. That plan was to invest, invest, invest! That is to say, invest in the people of the Minda system. After all, what is an economy if not the collective actions of a shit ton of people? And if those people are educated and the like, that means they are getting better paying jobs(income tax!), buying expensive things(sales tax!), purchasing land(property tax!), and more.

The first step was education. Simple enough, all things considered. Try and poach teachers from neighboring systems with tax breaks and higher government salaries. If I could one day build a university that would do very well, but that's for later.

The second step is expansion. By expanding the colonies, more jobs open up with the newly founded industries, which attract workers and their families, which expand the population, therefore allowing for the expansion of the colonies, etc… This includes setting up mining colonies on Minda-1 and 4, in the hopes that there are valuable resources there.

The third step is trade. With all these new resources, if I expand the trade fleets, and when the capitol station is set up in orbit, that will allow for both myself and independents to export their ore. This will in turn attract more companies, entrepreneurs, and independents to Minda looking to get a piece of the pie. All this fuels a growing economy, bringing in more settlers, who get fed through steps 1 and 2.

The fourth step is less of a step and more of a guide throughout the whole process. Moderate yourself. If all this expansion happens to fast, not only do I risk bankruptcy, which might force me to beg the sector moff for money(not happening) or Las’s family(just kill me), but if I bring to much prosperity in a short time frame I get the wrong kind of attention, which could get me killed for someone else's ego.

City infrastructure had been improving as well, with better public transportation, housing, and education, the people had been very happy, especially because I had only slightly raised taxes for short periods of time to pay for some of these. Most of the budget came from government run installations in space. With the spider-web idea really coming into fruition, each region of Ugea, even the oceans, were designated with a number, Accordia being Region 1. Each region that was inhabited would have a Nexus, that being the largest city in the region, and then multiple sub-Nexus’s that connected to the smaller towns/villages that were spread about. This allowed for resources, developments, infrastructure and more to follow a route that makes sense, spreading from the most populated places down to the boonies.

Now, there are some other measures I have been planning that would be beneficial, but nothing particularly major, as they were mostly administrative measures.

These included the formation of planetary councils, groups of people elected by the citizens to represent the area they lived in at a higher level, like U.S Senators. These representatives would number at 3 per region, and could only hold office for 5 years, after which they had to step down, and could not be re-elected. These representatives would be chosen based on a tiered voting system. Towns/villages with a population exceeding 300 would vote for their choice of 3, after which those teams would be sent to the sub-nexus cities in their region to be voted on again by both the people of the city and all the towns that sub-nexus was connected to. The team that won that vote would then go on to their region's Nexus, at which point all citizens of that region would vote on the team of 3 that would represent them for the next 5 years.

This system would give the people a sense of choice and control, and create a bridge between them and me. The most important effect, however, is that it reduces the amount of work I have to do! With this in place, the problems of the people of Minda will be condensed down, instead of me having to go flying all around the planet meeting with locals to find out what the problem is. And, with only one go in office, and rules that insure these representatives can’t make any money aside from a government salary, the chances of corruption were very low! Not only that, but these representatives don’t actually have power, they just yap and yap and then give me a paper that tells me what they were yapping about and why I should fix it for them. They can’t actually pass laws. It’s incredible!

I lean back into my chair, enjoying a nice cup of some hot chocolate equivalent. It had an odd tang to it, but was close enough that I didn’t mind.

Taking a long sip, I look out the window of my office, taking in the view. The capitol building had been remodeled some weeks ago, to stay the tallest building in the city, due to the rise of larger commercial and residential buildings in the city. Currently, my office sat at the top of the now 10 story tall monolith of ferrocrete and durasteel, while the comms tower was raised to an appropriate height. The other Imperial facilities were improved and heightened as well, but not to the same extent.

Accordia had grown, that was an undoubtable truth. From a city of 40,000 to nearly 70,000, Accordia held the HQ’s of most of the major corps in the system, along with a newly improved space-port.

One building in particular caught my eye. Right down the main road that led to the capitol building, was a sharp, angled building, with rust colored signage contrasting the imperial black and white. The Minda Imperial Guild of Industry and Commerce , or The Guild, as it was more commonly called, was an organization I had started to ensure that the bevy of miners, entrepreneurs, and all kinds of companies and independents coming into the system had a way to organize. The refinery in the belt had a branch office, as would the orbital station once built, but it was here, at the capital, where the heavy lifting happened. The Guild offered these independents a way to be organized, connect with the government directly, get the correct permits, obtain loans, request escorts, and more. It funneled new businesses into an easy to follow path to getting started, the convenience of which attracted more people as things started to ramp up. This was all accounted for, with new, empty apartment buildings ready for colonists, better road, energy and comms infrastructure that was great for the PDA’s. Especially considering new models had been added for workers, from mining ones that could connect to ships sensors, to engineering variants that could store blueprints and help troubleshoot diagnostics.

I’ll admit, I had been inspired by the fantasy/isekai trope of the adventurers guild. While it was kinda expected in a fantasy isekai, the idea of this organization that exists to support this line of work was interesting, and I figured that if a country with an adventurers guild could get business, then a system with an industrial guild could get even more business. Of course, I had it regulated so that it did not spread to other systems and the like. If a Guild I made spread far, and caught people's attention, that could bring the wrong kind of eyes on me, especially without my escape plan ready.

Speaking of my escape plans, I…kinda had one? That is to say, I had a plan in the works. You see, I couldn’t just buy a ship, because then it would be registered and everything. So, I squirreled away some of the whopping 50 MILLION FORCE-DAMNED CREDITS I made by auctioning off that Aethersprite on Nar Shaddaa. Clearly, Grakkus appreciated the goods. So, with some of that money, I discreetly hired a middle man to hire a middle man to… well, you get the idea. Somewhere down a line that cost 50,000 credits, a YV-560 was purchased brand new for an additional 90,000 credits. A CEC light-freighter that was decently fast, maneuverable, looked good(the YT-1300 side cockpit is kinda meh) and was inconspicuous. This wasn't a rare, expensive or super old ship that would look out of place on any trade route.

The ship, which I had yet to name, was sitting in a dry dock in Nar Shaddaa being upgraded extensively at the cost of 170,000 credits. It usually wouldn’t be that much, but I paid extra for both discretion and for the mechanics to not just take my shit. An extra 50,000 was waiting for them if they followed through. The ship would be upgraded with better specs(hyperdrive, sunlight, weapons, systems, generator, etc…) but that would take time. When ready in another 5 months or so, it would be hidden in an old hangar built into one of the hills not too far from Accordia. If I needed to jet, I could use the emergency escape tunnel built into the newly improved capital building, rush to the sewers, and escape out a release hatch far from the city. It wasn’t glamorous, in fact it’s really gross, and I had to keep updating my PDA’s tac-map everytime the sewage system was expanded, but it would get me out of the city undetected(since I wouldn’t use a speeder or shuttle, which are more easily tracked) and to a ship that is registered under a new identity from a different planet. Hell, I even had a whole set of outfits that came with voice modulators disguised in their helmets so I could hide my voice as well as my face. It was a pretty solid plan, if I do say so myself.

If I had to escape, assuming I made it to the ship and out of orbit, the immediate plan would be to head in the direction of one of the 3 hyperlanes that ran to Dubrillion. There were some convoluted and frankly dangerous old paths that circumvented the need to go to the sector capital that would allow me to head over to Bescane, and start moving coreward through the hyperlanes until I pivot, and start moving towards the galactic east. Eventually, my plan was to hide away in the corporate sector, Cantonica specifically. This is because of the city there by the name of Canto Blight. A hedonistic shithole for rich crimelords, war profiteers, and other such wealthy people, it was the perfect place to hide, as it was rich enough that the Empire didn’t interfere. The corporate sector it was located in is basically a fiefdom, with its own patrol fleets, laws, etc… While the Empire nominally controlled the area, realistically it was a haven for former Separatists and whoever else sought to hide from Palpatine’s eyes. And, being the corporate sector, there were bound to be plenty of opportunities to haul cargo around.

I did have backups for my back ups, of course. Savareen was a prime spot if Cantonica didn’t work out. Tatoineene was also on the list, though certainly last, right next to Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta. Easy to hide, easier to die.

Now, I’m no monster. While I spent a chunk of the auction money on my own security(and a nice L-99 executive transport shuttle…what, I can have nice things, right?) I invested 25 of the 49 or so million remaining right back into Minda, the 24 mil going into a vault for emergencies and the like. With that money, many of the previously mentioned improvements were made, including the purchase of 3 Baleen-Class Heavy Freighters that fully replaced the Acclamator as a trade ship, along with 5 Imperial Nebulon-B Escort Frigates(three of which stayed in Minda) to go along with them, each filled with their own complements of TIE’s. The Acclamator was refitted, and an Imperial Arquitens-class command cruiser was ordered to replace Captain Veer’s aging republic version. Once these ships arrived/were refitted, things would start looking up in terms of protection and commerce.

The remaining money? Spread about. Make no mistake, I really wanted to just buy more ships, build new colonies, start spreading out to the other planets in the system, but I was already kinda stretching things with the strides I had made. So, the money was tossed out to various programs that needed them. Schools, infrastructure, The Guild, etc… along with the creation of an in-house R&D lab. While I was more than happy to contract local companies for the creation of new products that I wanted/needed, the fact of the matter remains that they have other customers, and are more prone to information leaks. Therefore, a small but well funded R&D team was started to research the small stuff. The kinds of items and upgrades that usually went unnoticed, but that would increase efficiency across the board. Better cyber-security, better targeting software for StormTrooper helmets, better body armor, improvements to policing tech and vehicles, etc… Nothing that on its own would be huge, but things that would add up over time.

I’m snapped out of my thought’s by the sound of Darna rushing in through the door, a frantic look in her eyes.

“Sir, we just got a report from a Guild Miner! A pirate raiding fleet has entered the system!”

“...Can’t have SHIT!”

 

Chp-8: Resolve
Chp-8: Resolve

Tomar Eirie
Minda System, CR92A Assassin-Class Corvette Mindan Courage
He rushed through the bowels of the Mindan Courage as the alarms blared, heading towards his gunnery position as he passed the rest of the crew, all scrambling into their positions.

A pirate fleet had entered, and was making a beeline for the capital. However, a splinter had broken off and was heading towards The Bore, the refinery in the belt, and the Courage was being dispatched to help defend, along with 3 TIE’s. Small, but it was all that could be spared. He could only hope that the Bore’s defenses could make up the difference.

As he strapped himself into his turret seat, he could only reminisce on all the things that had brought him here. He had been born on Ord Mantell, and gone through Imperial Navy training there as well. He had grown used to how the Empire did things. Cold, dark streets. The looks of people as he passed by in uniform, not respect, but fear. Not as much as a trooper might get, but it had made him feel isolated.

Then, he was transferred to this corvette, sent to a backwater system because some governor had requested some extra personnel along with the ship he ordered. Tamar could’ve refused the transfer, the officer in charge of those things was a family friend, after all. But… a part of him wanted to get away from it all. The stares, the fear. He thought that being in the Empire was glorious, but it just felt cold.

When he had arrived in Minda, he found not cold stares and fear filled eyes, but respect. The people of Minda respected the Imperial military. Troopers conversed with people in the streets, kids got to pretend to ride security speeders, hell a tour of the old clone wars Acclamator was done a few times, like a museum that could fly.

Minda felt different. Sure, the Imperial symbols were everywhere, but things felt… alive.

For the first time since he completed the academy, Tamar Eirie felt like a true soldier.

And so, as the Courage dropped out of sublight acceleration above the refinery, he trained his quad laser cannon on the nearest pirate junk-ship, and opened fired.

He could only smile as the enemy went up in flames, and the TIE’s screamed past his camera port.

Minda was a place he felt he belonged, and Tamar would be damned if some pirate scum took it from him.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Luka Yridman
Minda System, Minda-0-A, The Bore
The Bore was a fairly large asteroid refinery, though not the largest Luka had ever worked in. It was called as such, because it was mostly an underground base, built into a large hole in the dwarf-planet sized asteroid that made it look like it was boring into the ground.

Again, it wasn’t the largest facility Luka had ever worked in, but it was the one he enjoyed the most. The pay, courtesy of the Empire, was quite good. He got benefits, retirement, and a good set of days off a year. Not only that, but the working conditions were very good.

The Bore was kept clean by a combination of droids and janitorial staff, along with a very strict set of safety measures, from handrails to fire suppression systems to disposable B-1 droids meant to investigate potential dangerous malfunctions, and could be remote controlled to do remote repairs.

Suffice to say, this was the best Imperial job Luka had ever worked, if not the best he had ever worked.

Which is why he was so pissed. Pirates!? Frakking pirates!?

As he fumed while on the way to one of the safety bunkers, the intercom blared to life.

“All personnel, be warned, pirate boarding craft have landed in the hangar bay. Evacuate to the bunkers immediately! Security will take care of them, but until then, hunker down, and stay safe.”

With that announcement running through his mind, he started speeding up his gait, passing by a group of security personnel, a group of mixed species, clones included, carrying a laser sentry towards the hangars.

By the time he reached the bunker, his anger had turned to fear. He could only hope things went well.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Burst Hopkin’s
Ugea, Accordia, Imperial Garrison

When Burst had heard of Minda, he had been sceptical. A place where clones would be accepted? In the Empire! HAH! It sounded like a joke. But then he saw the Acclamator, and he decided that he had to make a choice. Stay homeless, or take a chance with a backwater system.

Now, here he stood, wearing refurbished clone armor, standing in front of the assembled Imperial Infantry he had been training for the last two and a half months.

It was there that he started his speech.

“Soldiers, never before did I think that I would one day be standing here again, wearing this armor again, going to war again. I, like most clones, was cast out. Obsolete in the face of the new Empire. Yet, here I stand, taken in by the people of Minda. For the first time since the Clone Wars, I have a place I can call home. I am proud of my home, and of all of you, who I have trained to the best of my ability.”

He pauses, looking out over the faces of those he has trained. Etching them into memory, so that he may remember those that fall.

“And now, that training is to be put to use. Pirates have entered the system with a considerable force. They seek to land here, at the capital, and force the governor to hand over all that the people of Minda have built, that you protect! While the honourable Captain Veers and her compatriots in the Navy will hold the majority of the pirate fleet in space, they will almost certainly fire drop pods and send landing craft. It will be up to us, the Mindan Planetary Defense Force, to take up arms, and protect that which we have worked so hard for! So, arm yourselves, for soon, we will do our duty! For the Empire, for prosperity, for MINDA!”

“FOR MINDA!” was a cry that echoed across the entire garrison, bringing a nostalgic joy to Bursts heart. He could almost see his clone brothers, lined up in formation, chanting “FOR THE REPUBLIC!”.

Burst smiled under his helmet as his troops began to prepare themselves. His new home had given him a job, a life, even a name. He would not allow that to be taken from him, certainly not by pirates.

And so, he slings his DC-15A blaster rifle over his shoulder, and begins the march.

Minda would not fall. Not while he still lived.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Darna Sabrir
Ugea, Accordia, Capital Command Bunker

Darna was scared. Not the most scared she had ever been. Little could top the sheer fear of the rebel work she used to take part in. But a pirate fleet? Not a small flotilla, not some claim jumpers or smugglers like they were used to dealing with, but a proper fleet?

Well, to call a three Cumulus-class corsairs, some cobbled together gunships and fighters, a fleet, is a bit much. More like a flotilla. Still, it was formidable considering the extent of Minda’s current defenses.

Hopefully, the military command could come up with a solution.

“Options people, what are they, and how well could they work?”

Governor Mola was standing around the holo table at the center of the bunkers command center, holo images of Commander Grant, Captain Veers, and various other military personnel projected around the table.

 

“Sir” Captain Veers started, “The pirate flotilla is moving too fast, they’ll reach Ugea at least an hour before I can get there with the Gauntlet and the other Assassins. The trade fleet and its Nebulon’s are days away, the remaining Nebulons and the new Arquitens are at least two systems from here… it would take at least 24 hours for any reinforcements to arrive from out of Minda”

Commander Grant seemed to radiate a bloodlust that unnerved Darna even across the holo. “We’ll be waiting for them… can’t wait to finally see some action!”

“...I suppose you will,” said the governor in a calm voice. His ability to stay calm, even in this scenario, was incredible! (she couldn’t tell he was about to shit himself)

“Of course!” Commander Grant was exuberant “We’re already mobilizing our troops, setting up chokepoints in the city…” The holo’s quality was shaky, but was she blushing? “… we will bathe the streets with pirate blood!”

The governor was once again perfectly calm, studying the holo-table with serious eyes(his hands were shaking, not that she could see).

Then, he spoke. “We are clearly outgunned, but we aren’t out-manned. We most certainly have more and better troops. If the pirates figure this out, they’ll just bombard the city from above. So, we pretend to have evacuated. Every civilian goes to the emergency bunkers, and we ensure that every door, window, shop, is closed. I don’t want a single sentient organism to be out and about. Most importantly, we leave the cargo crates of surplus weapons and ship parts out and about around the space-port, luring them there. If this works, it's very likely that the ships will get lower to the ground, and start to load the cargo crates. If we hide, say, some troopers and droidekas in said crates, well…”

Both the Commander and Captain stopped for a second. “It would be risky… but it could work. If we time it correctly, we could clear out one of their ships just as Captain Veers arrives, and if we have some on leave Navy Personnel on standby, we could load them up in the LAAT’s and catch the remaining ships in a pincer. After all, while they might approach with all three ships, they’ll probably only start loading one ship, and leave it behind to confront the Captain.”

The governor stares into the Commander's projected eyes. “Can you pull it off?”

There's a second of silence before a terrifying look of pure excitement grows onto the Commander’s face.

“Of course. I’ll have their heads on pikes by the end of the day for you, governor!”

As the meeting wrapped up, Darna missed the governor mumbling.

“Why can’t the women in my life be normal?”

 

Chp-9: Brutal Finish
Chp-9: Brutal Finish

Burst Hopkins
Minda system, Ugea, Accordia, Accordian Spaceport, Imperial Guild Cargo Container

Burst was tired, cramped, cold, and old. And yet, he hadn’t felt this alive in years. He was huddled in a Guild container in the spaceport, shoved together with a small number of StormTroopers. They had their helmets slightly remodeled, and in addition to the updated targeting software, they actually held up to the image of the Empires elite they were supposed to convey.

The part that made Burst uncomfortable was the two Q-Series Droideka’s. Equipped with two twin rapid fire light laser cannons and personal shields that made them beasts on the battlefield, these metal creatures unnerved him.

Make no mistake, Burst was fully aware that they were his allies, considering the PDA he had strapped to the underside of his left arm allowed him to control them directly, or give more complicated orders. That didn’t mean he wasn’t wary. Too many brothers of his had been cut down by the relentless barrage of fire the droidekas could send down range, all without being able to retaliate.

Still, he steeled himself. He had a mission to accomplish. The container he was in was one of 3, filled almost entirely with valuable ores, parts, weapons, and more. Everything a pirate would want to sell, the containers were chock-full of. So full in fact, that no pirate would bother digging through the piles to find the enemies hidden in the back. And, to ensure that the pirates wouldn't just open the crates from the back while they were still on the ground, the containers had been pushed against a wall of the spaceport. Nothing unusual, just a series of coincidences that looked perfectly normal to those outside the loop.

The other two containers held another squad of troopers with a clone commander, while the third held one commander along with 2 more droidekas and a droideka mark 2, the only one found on the crashed seppy ships. They had been relegated to MPDF use, but never had a reason to be taken out of storage until now. Burst had never fought one himself, but he had heard the stories. Bigger, badder, more guns, the MkII didn’t move during combat, becoming a stationary turret of death that promised a plasma filled death to all those who came close.
It was imperative to the success of their strategy. Once they were loaded into the cargo bay/hangar of the enemy ship, the MkII would be able to hold the entire area on its own while the rest of the ship was cleared. While Burst would have preferred organic troopers to hold the bay, the fact of the matter remained that there just weren’t enough skilled troopers. Sure, there were 200 StormTroopers on the planet, but of those only a select few have enough experience to pull something like this off.

His thoughts jumbled like this while he and his team sat in silence, checking and rechecking their PDA’s, weapons, and other gear.

It was then that he received a message. Checking his arm, he saw it was confirmation of an incoming enemy Cumulus Class. The other two were hovering in orbit above the city while this one lowered itself to load the offered cargo.

He smirked under his helmet, previous worries forgotten as the anticipation of a battle surged through his veins.

Nudging the others, he spoke.

“Enemy ship incoming. Remember, stay quiet, don’t move, and when we breach, stay behind the droidekas. Their shields can take far more than your armor.”

Receiving affirmations, he nodded, just as the sound of the pirates opening the other doors echoed throughout the container.

It was time to get to work.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tomar Eirie
Minda System, Minda 0-A, The Bore, CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette Mindan Courage

His gun turret swiveled almost violently as he tracked the YT-1930 that seemed to be made more of rust than actual armor plating.

Honestly, if he wasn’t controlling the turret from an interior console, he might’ve felt sick. Hell, he might feel sick just looking at this camera.

The light freighter slowed to make a turn, aiming to line up its shoddily attached missile pods, when one of the TIE’s screamed past it. Its attack run filled the freighter with a barrage of laser bolts, breaking through the YT’s shields. Tomar held down the trigger, the quad laser cannon sending a stream of death at the freighter. Its armor held, but the death blow came from some bolts penetrating the missile casings while they were still held in the pods, making the entire thing go up in flames.

That made the second of five light freighters to go down in this battle, along with nearly half a dozen fighters. He once again swiveled the turret, looking for targets as the ship around him shook from the repeated attacks. He almost locked onto another freighter before the turbolaser battery got a lucky shot and turned it into dust in a single barrage.

“Enemies are attempting retreat! Put everything you have down range!” The voice of the fire command officer screamed over the intercom as the Courage turned to face the fleeing pirates. Every gun on the ship was capable of aiming directly ahead, giving the Assassin Class formidable firepower for its relative size.

Tomar witnessed this first hand as every gun on the ship opened fire at once, himself included. He wasn’t sure if he even hit an enemy, but the sheer volume of fire destroyed two more fighters and blew out the engines of a freighter. Seems the boarding crews will get their fair share of blood after all.

He turned the laser cannon towards the Bore, checking if any of the freighters that had landed were attempting an escape. Looking at the hangar bay, he could only see smoke from a destroyed freighter. Looks like the security crew was earning their pay.

“Enemy has entered hyperspace. No incoming ships.”

That sent a cheer through the crew, and Tomar couldn’t help but cheer with them. The first real naval battle that didn't involve claim jumpers and smugglers. It was a good day.

Before the celebration could really start, the captain got back on comms.

“Don’t go screaming just yet. We’re to rendezvous with Captain Veers. The capitol is under siege. This fight isn’t over yet.”

All around him, the crew seemed to calm down and steel themselves. They had won this battle, but there was more to come.

Tomar followed his comrades' example. His home was under siege, and he could do something about it. And so, he swore to himself that no matter what, he would spill pirate blood this day
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Commander Kaela Grant
Minda System, Ugea, Accordia, Cumulus-Class Corsair Dreadbow, Imperial Guild Cargo Container

Kaela was excited. Super excited. The most excited she had been in months. It had been difficult to convince the governor to let her come on this mission, but since she was one of the most highly skilled people available and there was little space in the containers, there was little choice.

She was packed in with half of the governor's personal guard, who she had trained herself. They, like herself, were armed with E-11 Carbines, which, while weaker than the standard E-11, had a noticeably higher rate of fire which was invaluable in the closer quarters of a starship. And it wasn’t like pirates would be particularly heavily armed. Kaela would’ve preferred a slug-thrower, so she could witness the enemies of the Empire being turned into jagged chunks of meat, but good slugthrowers were expensive.

Her smile widened under her helmet as she saw the message flash across the screen of her PDA. Captain Veers had arrived with the Gauntlet and the rest of the system defense fleet, and was engaging the other two pirate corsairs.

With the containers already loaded up, the corsair jerked as its engines roared, boosting it into the sky to assist its allies in orbit. As this occurred, Kaela flicked a switch on her PDA, activating the heat scanning function. It was still in its early stages, so her PDA was bulkier than she would’ve liked, but it allowed her to scan for nearby heat signatures. Aside from the ones bundled together, which were clearly the other troopers, she saw scattered signatures around the hangar. Most seemed pilots rushing towards their fighters, preparing for the engagement

It was the perfect time to strike.

Sending the signal, all three containers door’s burst open, and the troops flooded out. A total of 30 troopers, they all took cover behind the containers and opened fire on the surprised hangar crew.

The MkII droideka and its smaller siblings rolled out, activating their shields and raining death amongst the enemy. The big droid sat itself down, locking its feet magnetically to the floor of the hangar. Its shields hummer to life, and it turned its twin ion cannons on the fighters, stopping them from lifting off.

In a mere thirty seconds, the entire hangar bay had been cleared, and they started moving forward, droidekas rolling ahead of them.

As they turned the first corridor of the hangar into the main corridor, they were immediately met with enemies.

Basterbolts flew left and right, pirates dropping like flies. She reveled in the way their unprotected flesh burned as her bolts landed, how they fell limp, the light leaving their eyes.

This continued for minutes on end as they slaughtered their way to the bridge, burnt bodies littering the floor, some crushed by the weight of the droidekas rolling over the corpses.

As she turned a corner, Kaela grabbed the pirate attempting to stab her by the neck and arm, disarmed him, opened the weapons locker next to her and tossed him in the head first. She then slammed the door on his head until all that was left was a bloody paste.

It was only when she was done, bits of brain and bone covering her chest plate that she realized her little playtime had stopped their advance. The troopers' helmets hid their faces, but not the sound of some of them dry retching. Thankfully, she was the Commander, so they couldn’t reprimand her for “unnecessary cruelty”. Instead of commenting on it, she unslung her carbine, and continued the march.

Her job is awesome!
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TK-582, Okto Perker
Minda System, Ugean Orbit, Cumulus-Class Corsari Dreadbow

Okto was glad he hadn’t eaten anything before the mission, because if he had his helmet would be absolutely filled with vomit.

He’d known that this would be a brutal mission. Already the corridor behind them was filled to the brim with bodies, and even now the droideka’s covering their flanks were still firing, gunning down pirates who thought they could catch them by surprise.

But what he just witnessed? Commander Grant had always been…odd, to say the least. She seemed to want to fight, and now that he had seen her beat a man's skull into paste with a door, with the helmet still on.

Terrifying. He hoped that she never decided to go rebel, for that would surely be the end of them all.

Regardless, he shouldered his weapon and moved on, clearing corners, gunning down pirates, and breaching doors. He fell into a sort of trance, covering, firing, breaching, checking, and so on. A sense of synchronicity was felt amongst the troopers there, as if they were all part of the same assembly line, each of them fully aware of the part they have to play, with minimal communication required.

It was during this time that he thought back on his arrival to the Minda system. His company had been shamed during the pacification campaign on Mimban, all because his company's captain had bad blood with a different company’s major. Their equipment had been sabotaged from within, leading to their failure in a critical mission. While it wasn’t enough to have them executed, with the captain's political ties protecting them, it was enough to get them reassigned to the outer rim.

The company had been tossed about backwaters, from boonie to boonie, never quite fitting in. They would be sent to clean up rabble, hunt small-time rebels, and were even relegated to acting as a police force at times. Eventually, after years of this monotony, they were assigned to act as the personal force of a new governor.

At first, Okto thought it would be another boring, if stable posting. Hell, there might even be some excitement considering how young and arrogant the governor was at the time.

But then the protests happened. And instead of being told to open fire, like they had many times before, the governor spoke. TO the people, instead of AT them. Improvements were made, rapid scaling of infrastructure, housing, operations.

The garrison they were a part of was being trained by CLONES of all people. Okto had only ever seen one clone, and that had been an instructor he had passed when guarding an academy.

Everyday, he escorted the governor around, watching as he relentlessly filed paperwork, made deals with local organizations, and hell, even got to watch as the Garrison Commander taught him self-defense, blaster skills and more. Though he wasn’t very good at the moment, the dedication was real.

More and more was done, and Okto came to realize that this backwater could be something more. Something better. It was a rim world that didn’t see people cowering from the mere sight of his helmet. It was a place where the people truly loved the Empire so much, that there had been zero rebel presences detected, despite Commander Grants inspections.

His inner musings were cut short as they approached the doors to the bridge. He moved to the side, covering a right angle as another trooper started slicing the door using a port built into their PDAs. Wonderful technology, with so many applications that made things easier for him. Though he would never admit out loud how much he had gambled in some of those games. The characters are just so pretty!

Then the door opened, and there was chaos. The droidekas stomped forwards, shields absorbing the intense amount of blasterfire, their shields flickering and wavering under the assault. The crazy bastards had set up a shielded blaster turret and were forcing them to stay in the corridor.

They were at a disadvantage. Right up until Okto threw a stun grenade, yelling through the comms “Stunner out”.

He turned his head, and for a brief second the world went wild, before his helmet's noise suppression kicked in.

Then, he and his fellows turned back, raised their weapons, and opened fire.

There were no survivors
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Captain Ife Veers
Minda System, Ugean Orbit, Arquitens-Class Light Cruiser Gauntlet

Ife was quite happy, even as her ships engaged the pirate fleet. Despite the technological superiority of her flotilla, the two corsairs were heavily armed, and their veritable swarm of light freighters and junk fighters meant that she was very heavily outnumbered. However, victory here would add to her record. If she could prove her worth, she could get reassigned to a bigger, better ship, with more opportunities for action.

“Open fire! And inform all allied ships, do not get on the broadside or below the enemy corsairs. That's where the majority of their firepower is concentrated.”

“Yes, Captain!” the comms officer responded, already sending the messages out to the fleet.

Ife looked out over the battlefield. TIE’s, ARC-170’s and V-Wings all screamed this way and that, filling the battlefield with a plethora of blaster bolts and concussion missiles. The two enemy corsairs advanced upwards, their twin quad laser cannons opening fire on the Gauntlet and its allies. The hope was to keep them down there through the use of superior firepower.

While the cumulus class lacked any turbo lasers, it did come outfitted with 14 gunwales, each sporting twin laser cannons. Such concentrated firepower would be equivalent to a smattering of turbolasers and could prove to be an actual threat.

The battle raged, and the fighter count started to go down one by one. About five minutes in, and the first ARC-170 went down, the pilots going up in flames. In retaliation, the closest CR92a turned two heavily modified light freighters into scrap.

This back and forth continued for some time, fighters and freighters and what amounted to engines with guns and a cockpit were disabled, damaged or destroyed outright, before one of the corsairs started to open its hangar bay. Instead of fighters or bombers, a large, poorly built set of missile tubes were raised on an improvised turret. Despite the rust and clearly poor engineering, Ife immediately recognized the danger.

“All ships, evasive maneuvers immediately! Get out of the way of those missile pods!” she yelled out, the comms officers rushing to get the message out.

But it was too late. Even as the Gauntlet and her escorts burned their engines and gunned it out of formation, the ad hoc weapons platform fired a fusillade of ion torpedoes, screaming towards the ships.

Ife cursed. She had packed the fleet too close together, and now she was paying for it.

The torpedoes slammed into the hull, ion energy moving in waves throughout the ship. Subsystem after subsystem shut down, until only lights, gravity and life support still functioned.

“Status report!”

“Most systems offline Ma’am! Backup generator is doing what it can, but it’ll be a few minutes before the reactor can be reactivated!”

“FRAKK!” she cursed, letting out her frustration. “Are comms functioning?” Upon receiving a negative, she sighed. Deeply. This was not how she wanted her career to go. She had wanted to prove her family wrong, prove that she could make it in the Navy, yet here she was, about to retreat on her first real sortie.

“Ma’am, sensors are back online! We’re reading a hyperspace signature closing in!”

Before she could ask for more details, a ship appeared out of hyperspace right outside the battlefield. As it cut through the void, she saw it’s distinctive hull shape and couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief.

As the comms came back online, a voice crackled through the intercom.

“This is the Arquitens-Class Command Cruiser Rationale, engaging hostiles. Glad to have a welcoming party. More interesting than this rubber ball I have-ouch!”.

 

Chp-10: New Reforms, Old Friends
Chp-10: New Reforms, Old Friends

Holy shit, I’m not dead.

I was sitting in my office a week after the pirate attack, still having the occasional panic attacks. Pirates were a foregone conclusion out here, and their attacks were expected at one point or another, but I expected something smaller.

Maybe a few modified cargo ships, not actual fucking warships. Thankfully, none of them had turbolasers, but with roughly thirty-six laser cannons the Cumulus class is nothing to scoff at for a ship of its size.

It was the closest I had come to death in either life, and it scared me. The whole time I was in the bunker, I was contemplating running the fuck away. I had my escape plan all ready, I could’ve done it, but the odds were just enough in our favor for me to stay. Just barely.

The aftermath had been a significantly easier time for me. I had a memorial site built in one of the new public parks, a pillar of mismatched metal plates and melted plastoid armor, the only remnants of the starfighters and armor plates of those that had fallen, their names engraved into the metal with gold lettering.

I gave a speech at the memorials reveal, about the sanctity of life, unity, and so on and so forth. It was a solemn affair, and the first time I had ever put effort into a speech that didn’t involve saving my own skin in some way.

After all that though, came the fun part. Of the three corsairs, two were captured. The originally boarded one, and the one that had jury-rigged an ion torpedo missile tube. The latter had its shields broken and a stray shot detonated the remaining ion torpedoes, frying its systems. After that, its friend tried to run.

Emphasis on tried.

It was annihilated by the Rationale assault, its engines destroyed by the proton torpedoes of an ARC-170 and leaving it unable to escape. The escape pods it launched were all retrieved, and many pirates were captured.

The two corsairs were currently sitting in the Imperial Yards in orbit, being slowly repaired and refitted. They would make good patrol ships, if nothing else. The light freighters that were captured held little use, and so I had them cleaned, repaired, and put them up for sale.

There were always merchants coming through the system, so there might be someone willing to buy. If they aren’t all gone by the end of the year, I can just have them scrapped for parts anyways.

As for the captured pirates? Well, there weren’t that many, but it seems that Commander Grant had the presence of mind to not immediately rip the Twi’leks lekku off and hang his corpse with it. Instead, he was taken into a deep, dark room in the garrison, and no one in the garrison had a good night's sleep for three days. After that, the only things that came out of that room were Grant, and a foul smelling bag that was disposed of shortly after.

From what I can only assume to have been a horrible length of torture, information was dredged up. The marauders had been contracted to raid Minda for its resources and deliver them to their employers. While the average grunt was unaware of who had hired them, and was just there for the creds, the captains had been contacted by some people who were paying them for a job done for the will of their “Lady”. There’s only one “Lady” I know of that is also a crime lord of sorts.

Crimson Dawn. Fuck.

They had been a fairly powerful organization under Maul, but after his death they were believed to have been defeated for good. Thing is, that’s not entirely true. Lady Qi’ra, former lover of Han Solo himself, had become the leader of the Dawn after Maul’s death and was planning a resurgence. Her ultimate goal? The destruction of the Sith.

Normally I wouldn't have cared for some Sith hating crime lord. Sith are generally bad news for everyone. Sure, I had my problems with how the Jedi worked, but they weren’t trying to kill everything all the time. The problem is that the Empire is run by Sith, and therefore I am a Sith lackey, and therefore an appropriate target for the Dawn.

The pirates had been contracted to cause chaos, but also to secure more resources for the Dawn. And what better system to do that than a lightly defended backwater Imperial planet.

Luckily, I doubted that a retaliatory strike was going to happen. Not only is this a backwater, but it was currently 2BBY, meaning that Qi’ra had not been in control of the Dawn for long, with the planned resurgence happening around 3ABY, and their defeat not long after. This means that the Dawn is still in hiding, and this strike is one of many that are happening across the galaxy, all of them looking like standard pirate raids, all of them funneling resources to the Crimson Dawn.

Now, did I have hard proof that this was Crimson Dawn? No, I don’t. But the timeline fits, so the chance is higher than average.

Regardless, I try to push it out of my mind. With the arrival of the Rationale, along with the three Imperial Nebulons to help reinforce the system, the chance of such an attack happening again is rare.

Instead, I focused on the future. Specifically, expansion.

I was currently within my office, looking over the stacks of papers that had been delivered to me. They were my copies of the new reforms that were being put into place. The political system I had set up was being revamped, with minor and major councils in each region. The minor councils would be held in the sub-nexus cities to manage it and its area, with a minor council in the Nexus city proper to manage the city as a whole(each councilor of a Nexus city is chosen from its various districts). Major councils would be made up of representatives that were voted on by the minor councils and sent to the Nexus to represent their sub-nexus in the greater decision making process. Finally, each of these Major councils will send a representative to Accordia, where I speak with them once a week to announce new changes, gain a better understanding of the problems each region faces, etc…

Thankfully, politics weren’t the only thing I was reforming. I had instituted various longer-term projects. None of them would be costing much right now, and in fact many were not going to be started for some time, as to ensure that the build up is slower.

These projects were varied, and included things such as:
A network of trains, both passenger and cargo, to simplify inter/intracontinental transport and keep the number of ships flying about to a minimum.
An expansion to the Guild, turning into the Imperial Guild of Industry, Commerce and Protection, which now allows mercenaries to sign up, post their services so that miners, cargo haulers and the like can more easily hire them. It also comes with a rating system and review board, so mercenaries have an easier time cultivating a reputation and people can find reliable protection. It even comes with a selection of courses that can be attended for a small fee, offering insight into how mercenary work within the guild and the Mindan system functions.
An “academy”. Not a real Imperial Academy that trains StormTroopers and the like, but a militia academy that allowed people to volunteer to join the MPDF or MSDF(Mindan System Defense Fleet). It offered training, classes, with both retired clone officers and the occasional active duty officer teaching classes, giving seminars, and more. It was a way to increase the amount of active duty Navy/Army personnel, without actually having to requisition more personnel from the Navy proper.
Cities were being expanded with new apartment complexes and the like, specifically to handle the more steady influx of colonists that were being ported in.
The Acclamator, which had finally been named to the Beacon of Minda, finished it’s retrofits and was now a pure passenger ship, with the sole purpose of picking up new colonists from various planets who wanted a new life. It could carry up to 30,000 passengers, but I had ordered the number restricted to only 5,000 per trip, the rest of the space used for cargo. While I need more people, if the population grows faster than I can manage I’ll end up with substantial problems.
Contracts with the major farming companies and unions across Ugea were signed, for the express purpose of helping develop more land for farming. Much of it was going to be farmed by some of the incoming colonists, who I was paying the companies/unions to train in farming. This would increase food supply, allowing population growth to increase.
The R&D department was also increased by a decent margin, and focused mostly on software updates. Upgrades to the PDAs, better software for the ARCs and V-Wings, and most importantly, a proper fucking update to my terminal so I could organize things better. Never thought I would cry when seeing Microsoft Excel.

There were more projects, but they were for the future. These were the projects that could be started now with a lower cost, and later help fund the bigger pieces, like the proposed manufacturing plants, new colonies, and more.

A beep on my data pad alerted me. I checked it, and sighed. I had to fly out to the refinery to give a congratulatory speech for the security forces there. Apparently they had locked down the hangar, closed the doors, and trapped the pirates in there while they had a repulsorlift laser cannon gun them down. Absolutely no casualties, quite impressive.

And so, I sent my affirmative signal and threw on my coat, heading towards the landing pad where my L-99 was waiting. At least I could fly in style.

Now, if only I could get a vacation.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Darna Sabrir
Minda System, Ugea, Accordia, Rusty Refit Orbital Yard

Darna was exhausted.

Ever since the Mindan Raid, the governor's office had been inundated with requests for meetings, speeches, memorials, interviews, and more. Not to mention the multitude of companies asking about increased security and such

Honestly, it was a testament to the governor's abilities that the people were comfortable enough to ask him for things this way. Any other system might see petitioners shot.

Thankfully, the new Nebulon-Bs along with the mercenary section of the Guild opening seemed to address most of the concerns, and a touching speech from the governor about the importance of living a good life to honor those who died in the defense of Minda was enough to assuage the remaining questions and complaints. Aside from the journalists. They were relentless.

The governor had approved her day off, and she was trying to enjoy it. She had decided to visit her friend Sidheth up in the orbital scrap yard.

So, as she stepped off the shuttle and into the common area of the station, she scanned her surroundings. The place was kept clean, with signs indicating the directions of things like admin, lodgings, food court, and more.

As she did that, she heard a voice call out.

“Darna!”

She turned, and spotted her friend approaching her. Dark skinned and bushy haired, her human compatriot always seemed to have a spark of life in her eyes.

“Sid-”she paused, then “Talia! How are you!” Sidheth clearly noted her slip up, but shrugged it off.

As they hugged, Darna heard her whisper “Follow me. My room is secure”

And to her room they went, passing by a bevy of people throughout the station. The orbital station itself was equipped with 12 bays, each of them corresponding with a size designation, those being small, medium and large. Small bays could fit fighters, mediums were meant for light and medium freighters, while large bays dealt with bulk freighters and frigates. Three of the bays, one of each type, were reserved solely for Imperial use, with that section of the yard being staffed solely by Imperial personnel.

Entering an elevator, they were taken further up the yard's rings. It was split into three rings. The bottom ring managed all the light and medium bays, and the middle ring was for the large bays, along with the area visitors had access to. The top ring was where station personnel lived, and was the smallest of the rings.

Finally, they reached Sidheth’s suite, located at the very top of the central tower that connected the rings together. As the owner and administrator of the building, she had the nicest accommodations on board.

Despite that, her quarters were not all that lavish. Being a tad larger than Darna’s quarters in the Capitol, the apartment was nicely decorated. A nice central area was fitted with a kitchen, large L shaped couch with a holo table in front, and a decently large viewscreen mounted on the wall. The floor was a stark grey metal floor, but there were tasteful orange and black rugs that made up for it.

Branching off from the center room were three doors. One led in a hallway, which itself led to the master bedroom and a guest bedroom, along with the bathroom. The other door led to an office space, while the last led to a large walk-in closet.

Darna whistled. “You have yourself quite the nice room here, Sidheth. How did you get something this nice?”

Her friend flashed her a sheepish smile. “Honestly, things moved very quickly, and with the additional funding we were able to buy a prebuilt modular station. It came with this room for the lead administrator, and since I’m technically the owner…”

Darna smirked. “So you just happened to luck into the nicest suite in orbit?”

“It wasn’t on purpose, I swear!”

“I thought you were more frugal? What would Vilil say if he saw you living the life?”

“Darnaaaaa…” she whined. “Please don’t tell Vilil, he’ll give me that look, and then I’ll feel guilty!”

“Then start slumming it, sister.”

They looked at each other, before bursting out into laughter. Darna hadn’t missed much from her stint in the Rebellion, but she had missed her friend.

As they sat down on the couch, the conversation turned to work.

“...and he turned to me, looking dead tired, and said “there's more?!” as I handed him another stack of paperwork! Never seen the governor look so fed up!”

They had been talking about their respective lives for hours, when Darnas position actually came into question.

“So, you seem to like your job.”

Darna sighed. She saw this coming. “Yes, Sidheth, I do. And I’m not joining the rebellion again. I already risked my job referring you to the governor. On top of that, this is one of the few places where there isn’t a reason to rebel! No oppressive regime, no human centrism, no beatings. Just… progress.”

“I’m not denying that” said Sidheth, “Even Vilil agrees. Minda is stable, too stable for an effective rebellion. Any attacks here would just turn the populace against us. And with this scrap yard here, we’re actually able to make a difference for the wider rebellion. We just want you to be a part of that difference.”

Darna scoffed. “And what would you have me do? Spy on my boss, my coworkers, my friends? I’ve finally, after so long, found a place that accepts me, treats me well, trusts me. A place I can call home. I won’t betray that trust.”

Sidheths eyes seemed to glimmer with pain. “We trust you, Darna. The rebellion trusts you.”

“Only long enough to put a blaster in my hand and tell me to shoot”

“You know there's more to it than that!”

She shook her head. “Just barely, Sidheth. Just barely. But here? In Minda? I don’t have to fight for my life every day just to be treated with dignity and respect. I’m done, Sidheth. I’ve been done for years, and I refuse to get roped back in when my life is going well.”

Sidheth winced, but didn’t say anything for a while. Finally, she spoke up.

“I know things are good here, and I’m not really asking you to join back up. I’m not even asking you to spy! Not really. Vilil wanted me to get that, for sure, but I know you're not about that life anymore. All I ask is that if you hear something, something big, that won’t get you in trouble, give us a heads up? Please? That's all I ask.”

Darna sighed again. What was this, the third sigh? Fourth? Now way was that healthy.

“Fine. If something comes up that is really important, and won’t risk me, I’ll pass a message along. But don’t expect much. Like I said, I’m done.”

Sidheth smiled, but it was a weak thing. “Thanks, Darna… I missed you. We all did.”

Darna couldn’t help but return the smile. “I missed you too, Sidheth.”

The rest of the night was spent in a more comfortable silence, the two making sure to steer clear of the topic of rebellion.

Eventually, Darna left, and found herself back in her quarters in the capitol building. Situated right below the governor's penthouse, it was fairly spacious.

As she flopped into what had to be the nicest bed she had ever owned, sleep found her quickly.

Her last thought?

“I won’t let my new life be taken from me. Not again.”