Governor's Gambit - Star Wars SI into Imperial Governor

[Yacov]

Omake: LEERROOOOY JEENKIIIINS!

POV: SK-215, veteran Stormtrooper, hinterlands outside of Edinspire, Edin

SK-215 glowered at the civilians trying to play soldier. He didn't spend 10 years as a Stormtrooper just to be tied down by barely trained militia. They mocked the profession by having to rely on these PADs and poor facsimiles of proper Stormtrooper armor to even come within a fraction to their elite standards.

This showed in them having brought two hundred troops in comparison to SK-215's elite unit of fifty. They hadn't even bother to segregate their units by gender. Their discipline and unit cohesion must be in shambles.

Some of the civilians had even tried to talk to SK-215 after the briefing, revealing their lack of training. What naive fools! Don't they know our communications are monitoring to prevent such frivolous and distracting wastes of time?

Officially, this was to be a joint operation to "foster cooperation between local forces and newly stationed Imperial troops". Personally, SK-215 thought this might be some back scratching going on between the Captain and the Governor. Family ties do still hold in the Imperial military as our blood makes us strong.

Still, this was the Captain's orders. It was the core of Stormtrooper doctrine to always follow and complete their superior's orders. Shame it was costing some of SK-215's pride to babysit these civilians on this operation. At least this will help shake off the men's rust from being stationed at Scarif.

The target was an outpost of pirate scum. True to their nature they have set up in Dump Basin, an area where all the planet's previous power brokers would dump their toxic waste. They probably thought the pools of toxins and fumes would protect them.

The initial advance after disgorging from the K79-S80s lasted until the sentries spotted our freshly polished white armor. Suppressing fire was swiftly given even a the cost of a few pained grunts behind SK. Eventually his unit made it to the outpost wall.

Looking back SK could only shake his helmet in disappointment. The civilians were still hunkering down dragging both their and his wounded to give treatment. He could see one stormtrooper desperately grasping at his blown open helmet trying to keep the bad air from getting in.

Truly only the Stormtrooper Corps had the strength of will to do what was necessary to achieve the mission. While the civilians wasted their time trying to save lives, SK and his men prepared their grappling hooks for the real work of claiming the walls.

As they climbed the outpost's wall SK thought he'd heard a snap. Probably one of the grappling hooks got corroded from the fumes. No matter, it is on that trooper's failure to maintain his equipment.

SK's men quickly dispatched the sentries once they finished their ascent. The courtyard was secured shortly after due to securing the high ground. Their connected HUDs and training allowing them to coordinate their fire with lethal precision.

Taking up breach formation in record time they broke into the main building. Opening the door revealed a burst of blaster bolts emerging from the opening. Suppressing fire and detonators silenced the deluge.

Sparing a moment to notice a trooper clutching his leg, SK ordered the rest of his men forward to clear the structure. From there it was a textbook example of an Imperial assault. Having secured every room, SK gathered his unit.

"Sound off! How many have fallen behind?"

The chorus of cries had revealed that number had been seven. An acceptable outcome for a skirmish of this size. Truly none could compare to the might of the Stormtrooper Corps.

——
Stormtrooper doctrine: great at winning individual fights, not so great at long term force retention. Part of the reason you don't want your entire army comprised of assault troops. That ignoring battlefield casualties thing is actually a core part of Stormtrooper doctrine.

Crossposted on SB and SV

 

[Yacov]

Omake: Traditonal Thinking

POV Governor Fotz, Duradun, Myto Sector

Fotz glared out the reinforced window as she surveyed her domain. Not even Duradun's gorgeous ocean view could keep the latest setback in her inevitable rise to prominence from weighing on her mind.

Fotz's application to join that new Guild making waves around the Myto sector had been rejected. Her august charisma proved insufficient for them to recognize her as one of their betters. They even had the gall to use the excuse that her planet had "unfriendly business practices".

Really! Does that upstart Las not know she is Governor Fotz? Her innovative agrarian reforms were praised by the sector capital for her commitment to sustainability. Demolishing those wasteful green spaces and redirecting the Khil's exuberance away from the unstable tourism industry towards productive and reliable aquaculture was lauded as a stroke of genius.

Case in point. Fotz spotted yet another Shad'ruu war barge from her patrons come to visit her domain. No doubt come to fill their cargo bays with Duradun's galaxy renowned fish and "land squids". Honestly, those Khil learn to walk on two feet and suddenly they think they are equal to a pure blooded Imperial, those arrogant cretins.

Her patrons were so impressed with Duradun's quality that they even offer Fotz gifts. Those Dunelizard medium fighters would do wonders in defending Duradun's borders in the black. Covering such minor tasks would free up her TIEs to engage in crucial objectives such as finding and bombarding unsanctioned domiciles in Duradun's few archipelagos.

Thinking about fighters brought Fotz back to her current predicament. She had hoped to replace her aging Bayonet with one of those Gladiators Minda was rumored to begin building. Unfortunately jealously towards Fotz's brilliant methods of governance had stymied those efforts.

Nevertheless, Fotz had secured alternatives means to acquire cruisers. Thankfully her patrons had come through for her yet again. They had informed that they could acquire not one, but five cruisers through their contacts for a fraction of the price of a Gladiator.

Let those fools prance around with their mere Gladiators. Her new ships had taken the worst the Clone Wars could have thrown at them and came out sparkling like new. Soon they will stand in awe at Governor Fotz's mighty fleet spearheaded by her invincible Citadel Class Cruisers!

——
This Omake spawned by the debate over the past while in the thread about cruisers. How Las could have missed such an obvious choice as the ILH-KK Citadel-class civilian cruiser, I don't know. Pirates tremble at its 36 meters of grit and determination.

Crossposted on SB and SV

 

[Yacov]

Omake: Succession Salon

POV: Lady Foljoll, Dubrillion, Lady Foljoll's beachside estate, afternoon

"Here is your vintage Algarian Wine, Lady Foljoll."

Lady Foljoll took the tiny glass drink from the bowing pool boy. Her Twilek servant had always had the most impeccable timing, and appearance. Having that tailor make traditional swimwear of Ryloth was worth every credit.

"I say Lady Foljoll, what do you think of Moff Hiral's ambitions?"

Thoughts of disporting with the servantry put aside, it was back to the main topic of the gossip this afternoon. Hiral thought he was being subtle, but everyone properly connected and with a care for politics knew he was aiming to rise above his current station. Perhaps what happened to Moff Wasti showed him the dangers of stagnation.

"Whether the Moff succeeds or fails, Madam Offesco, I fear we will be looking for a new Moff soon, and all the chaos that brings."

Wasti's swift removal had caused no end of short term problems. Back door deals to be renegotiated, bribes and "gifts" to be sent, favorable patrol routes for the Fleet to be arranged, events to organize in the new Moff's honor. Foljoll's Artist Association had made a mint booking all the sudden venues.

Plenty of the Families of the sector had scrambled to maintain their existing influence, while even more looked to usurp their rivals. No one was looking to go through all that business again. This made a candidate with a known policy accompanied by a smooth transition from the previous regime something welcomed by most.

"True, true. As much as I would prefer a more local and prestigious candidate, that Mola boy seems to Hiral's chosen successor."

Madam Offesco's humph did little to hide her disdain. She was the type of woman who would only embrace a candidate firmly under her high heels. It was no surprise the Offescos would especially dislike Las becoming Moff. Their family had their fat fingers in luxury food production across the sector.

There wasn't a dinner party or banquet that they didn't help cater. The food industry had always been in a position of high esteem in Dubrillion. Going all the way back to the Sacking, as any Offesco will recount at the slightest prompting.

However the rise of Minda and their freeholder style of agriculture changed things. Suddenly the traditional slave plantations on the worlds of Offesco's allies seemed inefficient and unfashionable in the face of Minda and Guild's productivity through free labor and industrialization. That the Offescos' efforts to snake their way into the Guild have been consistently stymied probably only caused their frustrations to mount.

"Ah yes Governor Las. Proper stock from Eriadu I heard. Not any family of true significance, but that may change after the pruning the other Families in the Galactic South suffered at that debacle on Yavin."

Whether through shrewd manipulation or sheer dumb luck. The Mola matriarch and the Governor's sisters were all noticeably absent from Yavin despite it being Tarkin's pride and joy. Even Captain Shal, who was embroiled in scandal as a result, was given a slap on the wrist and sent to the Mola stronghold in Minda.

"I suppose it's better than a lowborn or worse, an alien. Speaking of stock, did you hear of the latest news from Minda? A whole new species has been discovered on one of their life bearing worlds. Some people have all the luck I say. A whole new source of farm tools for the fields falls right into the Molas' laps."

Lady Foljoll nods, agreeing with the sentiment if not the delivery. The Empire might give a freer hand in espousing humanity's superiority, however Las and his Guild took a more… multicultural approach. Never know when a word said loosely might be picked up by bent ears.

"I-I heard that there is over half a million of this new species down there. That's going to push Minda even further if they can integrate them."

Miss Omis had finally deigned to join the conversation. Although her reluctance was understandable. Every salon season, the dowagers and matriarchs always picked a pretty young thing to use as a chew toy. Miss Omis had the misfortune of being this year's victim.

"Half a million is not an insubstantial number. Add in all that growth Minda has undergone and that system will have already reached 1/20th the size of Dubrillion and still have room for more."

It was an impressive rise in such a short period. Whether Minda would keep growing at that rate would remain to be seen. Although if Las can play sector politics well, who knows? Perhaps Dubrillion can finally have a proper peer in the sector.

"I suppose that means you will join the gaggle of fawning dandies and dainties sucking up to the up and comer, Miss Omis? The Omis family have mastered the art of having one's hat in their hands."

Offesco's remark was scathing, but not inaccurate. The Omis were New Blood, not even three generations since their debut to high society. They always tried championing improving the standard of education in the sector. Willing to bow and scrap at any foot or hoof that had a chance to fund their projects. Unfortunately such projects often dried up in credits when the sponsors grew bored of it after a year or two.

"W-well, the Omis have been in talks about our world joining the Guild. The requirements are not too burdensome for us, a-as we actually pay our workers."

Was that actually an attempt at a retort? Oh that was just precious. It might have been a tad more impactful if Miss Omis didn't trip over her words. Although judging by Madam Offesco's complexion, the quality of the insult was not a factor.

"Listen here you little bint! Las' light hand will bring ruin to his realm! Anarchy is about to descend upon Minda due to him being unwilling to muzzle and leash those non-sentients like he is supposed to!"

Lady Foljoll's couldn't help but sigh as the Madam stormed off. Madam Offesco was always too harsh on the peons, and that's why Lady Foljoll invited these two to her estate this afternoon. She had seen photos of the new species, and they look adorable. Perhaps she can secure another servant for her collection. They would look lovely with a giant pink bow.

Filing away the day's freshly won bit of blackmail, she turned to the stunned and stammering little morsel. Resting her hand on Miss Omis' shoulder like her mother always used to do.

"Now that was a fair bit of excitement. Are you alright? Madam Offesco can be a bit heated about her family's business."

The shivering little animal took the perceived reassurance to collect herself. Taking a deep breath to regain her wits.

"Yes Lady Foljoll, I just hope this won't cause trouble for my family. We really need the Guild's support and the coming meeting can't have any issues."

Ooooh, look at that dejected face of despair. Lady Foljoll supposes she could lend Mrs Omis her support in making introductions. If only to get her family to stop yammering at every gathering they attend and store up another hook for the day.

"I would be happy to assist, Miss Omis. Consider it a way for this host to make up for a guest being exposed to such unpleasantness. Speaking of which, let's have something to wash it down. Pool boy!"

Besides, this could be her chance to get in the good graces of the coming regime. Art and education do go hand in hand after all.

——
A look into how the Sector's movers and shakers might be reacting to Las' potential Moffhood. Star Wars' upper class is very generationally concentrated. The main Rags to Riches story we get in the setting is Anakin, and he spends most of the prequels being manipulated, seduced, or verbally smacked down by people with millennia of lineage behind them. Is it any wonder he goes around killing the same kind of people when he's in his Vader phase?

Crossposted on SB and SV

 

[Yacov]

Omake: A Report on the Theoretical MSDF Auxiliary Unit: The Verndari Heavy Troopers

Introduction

With the integration of Minda-2's native population into the Empire, the question of how to form a PDF to defend the planet was one of the natural next steps. Eventually it was determined that since the MSDF was a defense force for the Mindan system as a whole, that any non-Imperial army or naval formations raised on Minda-2 would fall under their jurisdiction and therefore be their responsibility.

The result of this conclusion was the creation of the Vendari Heavy Troopers. A third line formation to improve cohesion and coordination between the local national militaries and the Imperial military. This planetary formation was mainly tasked with defending Minda-2 from external and internal dangers against Imperial assets and civilians, engaging in search and rescue operations, and hunting down the enemies of the Empire who sought to find a haven in Minda-2's jungles.

Armor

Some debate was held to determine how to armor the Verndari. it was eventually agreed that the Swamp Trooper armor for Imperial Army troopers would serve as the base for the Vendari Heavy Troopers.

After the armor's design and some samples were procured, the Mindan R&D, being an old hat at designing infantry armor, quickly designed a cheap resize and refit package to fit the Vendari's larger frame. The result was something less capable than the Generalist Mk. 2 Stormtrooper armor, but still an improvement over what the Imperial Army enlisted had to work with.

These days the armor suits are well liked by the Vendari Heavy Troopers. The extra environmental protections and increase of the armor's range of motion compared to the Swamp Trooper armor were the biggest positives listed.

Note: There has been a trend of various stylizations, paint jobs, and touch ups that have left many an armorer frustrated. The reasons given by Heavy Troopers are often to show cultural ties or to blend into the environment better. The increase in discipline from forbidding these alterations was determined by Command to not be worth the loss in morale as long as said alterations were kept within reason and didn't impact the armor's performance or recognition as Imperial armor.

Main weapons

There was a short but fierce argument over what the main armament for the Vendari Heavy Troopers would be. Given the jungle terrain and other close combat engagements they would often have to deal with, a standard blaster rifle was ruled out. A blaster shotgun was proposed, but eventually the proposal faltered and a blaster carbine was chosen as the main blaster type.

Looking through what was easily accessible in the nearby Sectors' stores, the military planners eventually came across the DLS-12 Heavy Blaster Carbine. These things were highly popular at the end of the Clone Wars and the Republic purchased them by the freighter load. However most of these weapons would never see the frontlines as the war ended shortly after their purchase.

Unfortunately the carbine fell out of favor with the rise of the Empire. The heavy firepower did not make up for the bulkiness when used by the average sentient. This left large stores in Imperial armories that persist even after two decades of auctions being held to try and get rid of the excess stock.

It was hoped that the Vendari's larger frame would make wielding the normally cumbersome carbine easier for them. In addition diverting excess stockpiles to a minor and less suspected PDF formation would allow for more storage space for more advanced and preferred weaponry.

Heavy/specialist weapons

Although the standard armor and weapon had been chosen, questions still remained over what specialists to assign the Vendari Heavy Troopers and what to equip them with. A blaster carbine is not suited to tackle every challenge a trooper squad would face after all.

It was determined early in the debate that a heavy trooper squad should probably have a heavy weapons specialist. The main weapon chosen for this role was the FC-1 Flechette Launcher.

The weapon weighed in at 20 kg and was deemed appropriate in engaging in a wide variety of combat situations due to its dual ammo types. The anti personnel rounds were referred to as "swarm reaper" rounds while the anti vehicle rounds would known as "giant killer" rounds. These names were given due to how often the heavy weapons specialist use them on Minda-2's native fauna.

——

Although the DLS-12 carbine might have a higher rate of fire than the average blaster pistol, there is something to be said for having a role dedicated solely to suppressing fire. The main weapon of this heavy gunner role was a bit difficult given the close quarters nature of the Heavy Troopers.

The procurement officers finally settled on the Underslung Rotary Blaster Carbine for the role. What the light repeating blaster lacked in accuracy due to only being able to be fired from the hip, it made up in rate of fire and sheer suppression potential.

Note: It was determined by Command that wielding two Underslung Rotary Blaster Carbines at once did little to increase the combat effectiveness of an individual heavy gunner. This has not stopped reports of heavy gunners attempting to duel wield them from cropping up. Please report any further sightings to your superiors.

——

The Vendari came in with a request for a melee weapon with which they could utilize their combat knowledge and experience gained prior to their integration into the Empire. The request was deemed sensible by Command and the weapon chosen was a mass production version of the Force Pike.

The Force Pike was relatively light for a two handed weapon at 7 kg. Those with experience and skill can use a Force Pike effectively can often deal rapid and precise strikes.

Those who wield Force Pikes among the Vendari Heavy Troopers are known as Vendari Spear Troopers. They are usually recruited from the more rural communities on Minda-2. Respected for their CQC skills and bravery in battle, a Spear Trooper will often be seen leading a given ambush or a charge.

Note: While throwing the Force Pike may no longer automatically result in disciplinary action, failure to retrieve said Force Pike after utilizing it as a ranged weapon does still carry fines and other consequences.

Sub weapons

Given the lower tech level and varied cultures of Minda-2, it should come as no surprise that a variety of unique cultural affiliated weapons exist on the planet. These traditional Vendari weapons, although inferior to Imperial made equivalents, carry significant morale value to the Vendari Heavy Troopers.

As a result, Command has giving permission to utilize these weapons provided the Heavy Trooper in question can demonstrate enough mastery to not bring down the combat effectiveness of their squad. This is taken by the Heavy Trooper in question as a challenge to improve the mastery of their chosen weapon even further in order to prevent it from being taken away.

Significant amounts of a Heavy Trooper's off time may be devoted to training with their chosen weapon or obtaining upgrades for it. This is seen as a benefit by Command as it focuses the Heavy Trooper's attention towards better serving the Empire.

——

Given the tight quarters Heavy Troopers find themselves in, most if not all carry a hunting knife as a holdout weapon and a utility tool. Although give the larger frame of the Vendari, it can appear to most sentients to be a small short sword in size. Engraving the handle of the knife is common practice among the Heavy Troopers. One can often find specialists who do custom engravings close by where the Heavy Troopers are stationed.

——

One of the more uncommon weapons in the Vendari Heavy Troopers' arsenal was the RL-40 stun net launcher. This is meant to provide the Heavy Trooper with a dedicated range stun option they lacked with most of their other weapons.

This weapon is usually kept by an officer or a chosen Heavy Trooper in a squad. However further RL-40s may be distributed to Heavy Troopers should an objective of a mission include the live capture of prisoners or fauna. The Heavy Troopers' themselves view the RL-40 more as a tool for hunting rather than a weapon.

——

One of the more unpopular weapons in the Vendari Heavy Troopers' arsenal is the humble blaster pistol. Given its status as an emergency holdout weapon, there is no standard model. Usually a Heavy Trooper is given whatever blaster pistol is available in the armory.

The source of this unpopularity is the Vendari's distaste for the look, size, and lack of firepower of most blaster pistols. They are seen as weapons for children and weaklings due to their diminutive size and capability when compared to a Vendari's frame.

This prejudice is compounded by the fact that a lot of budget conscious quartermasters for the Vendari formation see the DLS-12 as the answer to most if not all situations a blaster pistol could be useful for. This results in the quartermasters acquiring the cheapest and least powerful blaster pistols in order to save costs, reinforcing the bias among the Heavy Troopers.

A Heavy Trooper being seen wielding a blaster pistol in combat can be a source of mockery by one's fellow Heavy Troopers, despite Command's discouragement of the practice. It is to the point that some Heavy Troopers will resort to their hunting knives or even their fists when deprived of their main weapons rather than pulling out their pistols.

Note: Command's stance on the matter is clear. Despite the leeway given in other matters, every Heavy Trooper must possess a functioning blaster pistol in good repair in their kit. Officers who are found to have multiple Heavy Troopers under their command without blaster pistols during inspection will be punished alongside their squad.

Conclusion

National Vendari formations are still present on Minda-2, and Imperial formations like Stormtroopers still patrol and guard the more vital Imperial installations. However, the Vendari Heavy Troopers are increasingly becoming the main face for the Imperial presence on Minda-2. It is hopeful that the Heavy Troopers will eventually come take over a majority of duties currently being done by the former two.

——

This is the result of the jungle warfare debate in the thread and imagining what a PDF for the Vendari using Imperialized tech could possibly look like. Turns out it is a mix of scrambling due to unexpected third line procurement order, "techno barbarity", soldiers being soldiers, and digging through old Imperial stockpiles like they were bargain bins at a thrift store looking for gear that is either cheap, in large quantities, and/or from brands that have fallen out of Imperial favor like Golan Arms.

Crossposted in SB and SV

 

[Yacov]

Omake: A Compromise of Ideals

POV: Governor Inhabilis, Nequam Prime, Nequam system, Myto sector, Governor's Office

"So Governor Inhabilis, do we have a deal?"

The Governor struggled not to glare at the alien. This was aided by staring at the stack of flimsi that felt like it was sucking out his soul. The howling bitter winds outside his office window a correlation of his mood. He struggled to dredge up a smidge of gratitude.

"The Empire appreciates the Guild's assistance in this small matter."

It was a small matter to the Empire, but it was a crisis to him and the planet of Nequam. This world was settled because of rumors of Borium had attracted the interest of the Empire. Unfortunately after years of prospecting under his leadership, not a trace of the mineral was found.

"Now about what we will want in return for Nequam becoming a Guild-affiliated world."

And here's the catch. Despite styling themselves as an Imperial organization, these parasites were still just the Trade Federation disguised in an Imperial surcoat. If it wasn't for Nequam's need, Inhabilis would not be caught dead working with these cretins.

His Grandfather was one of the first captains to fight those corporate parasites when they sought to bring ruin to the Core. His mother was the first one to fire upon those perfidious Jedi when they tried to escape in shuttles after their failed coup on Coruscant. The commendation his mother received in the mail from the Emperor himself is still mounted above the fireplace in their family home. Yet now here he is, seeking out those same breed of disloyal and two-faced curs his family fought so diligently against for support.

"Spare me the platitudes and name your price for preventing my people from starving."

That was the issue that had crippled Inhabilis' governorship. Resupply for Nequam had been suffering crippling delays as of late. The Imperial captains had spouted excuses about Nequam being "low priority" and "too far from well patrolled routes". No doubt his rivals were enjoying every moment of his planet's suffering. Jealousy born of talks of elevating the family to be Barons of the Empire.

Efforts were made to deal with the matter locally. However, Nequam's frequent cold snaps and dry spells made any attempts to grow food outside of hydroponics unsustainable. Not to mention the botanist in his government had explained to him the soil fertility for foodstuffs on Nequam could be described as barely above that of a barren asteroid.

The situation had gotten so bad that he had to rely on these… legitimized smugglers. Even though it goes against everything his family instilled in him to offer commercial interests leverage over him in any way.

"No need to be upset. Your encouragement of competition and free labor among the mining operations will make the transition easier."

Hmph. As if Inhabilis cared for the "Free Market" the Guild ranted about. He had let the riff raff scuttle around freely. However that was only because they would cover ground more efficiently looking for Borium than they would organized under his direct control. His Head of Resources explained to him that you couldn't just command miners to dig in the dirt like one commanded soldiers to dig trenches and expect the same results.

Nevertheless, Inhabilis always remained poised to seize the land on any claim the moment a vein of Borium was detected. At least the extraction of those lesser minerals helped keep the lights on. Unfortunately the recent lack of ships, both Imperial and private, had made trading those minerals for supplies more difficult.

"I imagine you will be wanting control of the Hfredium exports?"

The meager yields of Hfredium were the only reason Nequam had what little good graces from the Imperial government it did. Controlling the Quota Mineral on Nequam would give the Guild far too much influence on the planet. Yet if it kept his planet and the people under his protection alive…

"Oh no. We would never dream of interfering with the Imperial Quota. Too much attention from the Empire for our Conglomerate's tastes. Although we wouldn't mind if you requested assigning some Quality Control Analysts to ensure requirements are met. No what we are after is to be Nequam's first choice for your Exonium exports."

Exonium? Sure there was more than enough of that stuff on Nequam, but it wasn't anything special. One of the first cost saving measures his corps of engineers proposed when resupply started slowing was to switch to using a local produced fuel for power and heating. Even the heater in the corner of his office ran on Exonium. What was their game?

"That's it? You are just after a fuel that is easy on the scrubbers?"

Perhaps there was a use for Exonium Inhabilis was unaware of. He was no miner or geologist. His limited study of minerals only extended to what could be helpful for the Imperial military. Any commercial applications for what Nequam extracted was more for the civilians to deal with. As long as it kept bringing credits and food, Inhabilis could not care less about the specifics.

"Of course, Exonium as a fuel would be desirable among some of Orgon Conglomerate's clientele. If we could secure a source of it within the Myto sector it would benefit us. We would even be willing to dedicate a portion of holds to ship all that Chalcopyrite you have been digging up to pump up your export numbers."

Now Inhabilis knows this vixen is trying to butter him up. Export numbers were just behind tax numbers in what an Imperial bureaucrat looks for when reviewing a planet. That the holds would be filled with relatively unprofitable copper would go right over most of their heads.

He could always pull out of the deal and try to find those buyers to sell the Exonium himself. However trying to get into the sector fuel market would take time, and Nequam needs food now. Bowing to alien merchants will bring shame to his family. Yet it was the lesser shame compared to failing in his Empire given duty.

"That would be acceptable. If you are willing to assist in the delicate matter we discussed previously."

Really the Jikun Cartel should have been easily dealt with by the Imperial garrison. Unfortunately by the time they had revealed their true colors they had used their guises as a mining company to abscond with one of Nequam's few AT-PTs. Every day the Cartel rode around in the heaviest military vehicle on Nequam sporting their Blue Mynock logo was a challenge to his authority.

Unfortunately facing an AT-PT with a PX-10 and a few speeders that made up Nequam's common patrols was too risky. To say nothing if Inhabilis wound up losing yet another PT in the effort to take out the first. He lacked the political pull and the leeway to obtain Imperial reinforcements, so private contractors it was.

"Worry not Governor. I assure you the mercenaries on our payroll will be the picture of discretion you wish for. I am glad we can come to this amicable agreement. We will reach out later for further details on your planet's membership. You made the right choice."

Inhabilis could barely hold back from lashing out in wounded pride as the Guild personnel left his office. The only balm to this meeting was imagining the look on their faces once this temporary arrangement concluded. This war will end with the Empire's triumph, and the Imperial supply shipments will resume to his world. Then he can alter the deal to his leisure, and make them pray he doesn't alter it further.

Inhabilis rubbed his hands together imagining his inevitable rise. He will be next in line to bring honor and glory to his family and the Empire. Once the Emperor deals with the Rebellion, he would have the leeway to deal with the Guild as he saw fit. Yes, things were going to look up for Inhabilis, and nothing was going to get in his way.

——

POV: Broker Tyla of the Orgon Conglomerate

"Broker Tyla if I may? What makes Exonium so important that we must fill our holds with unprofitable copper? Isn't just another form of fuel?"

Tyla turned to her subordinate with a wide grin. Leaning in close to dissuade any listening devices.

"It isn't just a form of fuel. It is a clean burning form of mineral fuel. That might not be valuable in regular Imperial space, but in Guild space? Governor Inhabilis might as well be sitting on a Nova Crystal mine.

This stuff burns so clean that it is practically regulation proof. A tourism world like Dubrillion? Waved in with a smile. An agriworld with regulators so strict you can't use a HK Ion Drive without a certificate for your Collector Coils? You could dump this in their aquifers and they wouldn't bat an eye."

"So we're scamming the Governor and this world?"

"No, no, no. I said we will be assisting with the planet's problems and I meant it. We'll be paying for an upgrade to their star port, sponsoring new clinics, a hospital, a technical school, giving them preferential food shipments, and access to the best mercenaries, geologists, equipment specialists, and community liaisons we can get on our payroll.

Let no one say the Guild doesn't take care of those running their resource extraction. We can't secure a monopoly under Guild rules. So we are going to glad-hand these yokels from this forgotten backwater with so much Guild prosperity that they won't even think twice before offering Orgon first pick of their harvests of ore."

The subordinate could only blink at Tyla's enthusiasm. She looked as giddy as a school girl getting ready for her first date.

"You seem really into this project Broker."

Tyla's flash of teeth went practically supernova. Giving her subordinate further confirmation of Tyla's glee.

"Can you blame me? If we exploit this opportunity right, Nequam will be a crown jewel of our Conglomerate. Every Guild world in the sector is going to want to top off their energy reserves with Exonium. We could supply so much clean energy to this sector that the Empire might make us junior sub-partners of Project Celestial Power!"

Tyla was rubbing her hands together at the thought of the potential profit and prestige. This deal is going to put her and the Orgon Conglomerate on the map. Imagine it, her name as a footnote in a galaxy spanning report. Yes, things were looking up for Tyla, and nothing is going to get in her way.

——
Between the Rawmat Shortage, the increased quotas, and the Empire moving to a (more) war focused economy, plenty of small worlds are going to be left to decline. This is usually exploited by Rebels, criminal gangs, and other unsavory groups to spread their malign influence. The Guild has the potential to be a pro-Imperial faction able and willing to take advantage of this opportunity to… lobby for preferential treatment.

Crossposted on SB and SV

 

[Yacov]

Omake: The Cavern

POV: Grimjaw, ex-enforcer for Underbite the Crime Lord, Highreach, Edin System

Grimjaw the Nikto stepped out of the rudimentary refresher in his cell and quickly put on his orange synthweave jumpsuit. Despite the suit being more expensive, the slight itchiness couldn't help but remind Grimjaw of putting on his sackcloth as a kid before adventuring out into Belt Haven with his fellow Blue Chins.

Childhood memories brought Grimjaw's train of thought to how Edin and his life had changed over the past few years. Less than two years ago he was riding the high life as one of Underbite's top enforcers. Sentients and animals alike would quake when he strutted around town.

Then the Empire up and decided that laws were things they were supposed to enforce. Underbite was a good boss to his men, but his gun running put him near the top of the new governor's hit list. After the hideout was raided it was only a matter of time before the Empire tracked down all the safehouses. Now Grimjaw was just another prisoner in the Cavern.

Grimjaw thought about his new home as he left his cell and gazed past the railing and into the Pit. Rumor has it the Cavern used to be the main stronghold of Highreach's top slaving gang. After the Empire cleared them out, they decided to convert the existing infrastructure into a prison for the criminals they decided were now worth arresting.

"Oi Blue Boy! Quit spacing out! Better hurry to the cafeteria before all the good spices and additives are gone!"

His neighbor's call knocked Grimjaw out of his musings. Silently thanking the man in his mind, he made his way around the glass covered catwalk towards the first destination in his schedule.

——

The Cafeteria was the start of every convict's day. Basic meals for a standard sentient were a protein rich fibrous slop sprinkled with nutritional supplement cubes as well as two rectangular units of grains with water to wash it down. Anything remotely close to flavor required a prisoner to spend Work Credits they earned during their labor shifts.

"Hey Blubber Buddy! Your slop treating you alright?"

The Herglic con artist played with his oversized utensils like he was shuffling cards. No doubt thinking about a past card game or con he ran. Or planning a future one.

"Hey Blue Boy. The food's alright. I just wish I could get some more spice to make it a bit more palatable. You up for a game?"

You could have all the seasonings, fruit, vegetables, non-processed meat, and salt-alternatives you want as long as you had the Work Credits. Pure salt was banned after some Arcona got lowered into the Pit for trying to organize a Salt Mafia in their block.

"Not a chance Blubber Buddy. We may be friends, but I know you well enough to know you would clean me out of my Work Credits in no time. Go hunt some gullible marks."

Where there was currency, there was crime. Naturally when Grimjaw first arrived, he made discreet inquiries to try and identify the bosses and hustles in the prison. Only the find out the worst prisoners got up to was spice trading that the guards monitored. The seasoning kind, not even the drug kind.

"I am trying to keep my games private and friendly. If I start prowling like a shark, then the guards might freeze my account. Defeating the point of getting more food money."

People who made trouble or roughed up someone usually got sent to their cells during free time or had their Work Credit account locked. Anyone trying to do worse was quickly found by the guards and given time in the Pit.

"At least fleecing some fools won't get you the Pit. Although maybe you would get in touch with your ancestors."

The Pit was a chasm right next to the Cavern. Gossip says the slaver gang that was here before dumped product that had expired into the Pit. People talked about how you can still hear their screams in the dead of night.

"Don't even joke about that Blue Boy. I ain't getting dragged away by angry spirits. Besides, my ancestors kept to the surface. Easier on the blowhole."

Being lowered into the Pit left you with just you, your thoughts, and the pitch black darkness not even the Cavern's light could penetrate. Whether the gossip is true, a night or two spent in that cage they use to lower you into the Pit is often enough to straighten out even the most crooked sentient.

"Well maybe lift some extra heavy boxes this shift. We are getting our parts shipment today, so there should be plenty of work in the loading bay."

Finishing his morning meal, Grimjaw did some stretches and got ready for his labor shift.

——

Labor shifts in the Cavern outside of services and custodian jobs was primarily focused on manufacturing. The natural properties of the Cavern made it very stable temperature wise and with next to no humidity. This made it ideal for making and storing things you wanted kept clean and unbothered.

"Now if only these masks wouldn't fog up my glasses so much."

The thought made Grimjaw notice the gloves, glasses, and mask he wore while he worked on his solar panel. Solar panels and wind turbine blades were the common exports out of the Cavern. These weren't the large ones used in the Governor's infrastructure projects, but rather small ones used to keep small businesses and homesteads powered.

"Maybe I should study up and see if I can get into the scrubber department."

If you were minimum security, had a good rep, and had the technical skills like an Outlaw Tech, you could earn a lot more Work Credits making air scrubbers. Trust was needed for small towns to accept what they constructed in the depths of the Caverns. The motto the prison kept spewing was "cleanse the body, cleanse the mind, cleanse the planet". Personally Grimjaw was just happy with the luxuries he could purchase with the Work Credits he earned, or that they were luxuries to buy at all.

"Beats being thrown into mines that would make Kessel seem regulation compliant."

Grimjaw had heard horror stories from other prisoners who had been imprisoned before about what went on in other Imperial prisons. Horrific tales of mining with primitive tools, daily beatings from the guards and other prisoners, little in the way of food choices, and even no central temperature control in the cells. It all made him glad he got arrested in Edin rather than one of those nightmare systems.

——

Grimjaw was out of his work clothes and stepping into the Yard for his free time. The Yard was more a large tunnel that was sealed off, divided into rooms, and filled with leisure equipment. Still it felt nice to have natural material under his feet and above his head, even if it was stone.

"Smiles! Don't you just love that fresh air?"

The Klatooinian tough made an effort to frown, but still took a small breath. Even the air didn't feel as stale or sterile here. Small vents and fans on the ceiling allowing for fresh air to flow into this sectioned off portion of the Cavern.

"The air is nice Blue Boy. Just watching the bots stumble around and gawk at the ceiling before getting a workout, you coming?"

It was theorized that a prisoner could escape through those vents if they could climb or fly high enough. However the cameras and BLX labor droids constantly patrolling the Yard and the rest of the Cavern dissuaded most break out attempts.

"Was thinking about hitting the books, but a workout sounds nice. Let's see you grit your teeth."

Stepping in line with his favorite workout buddy, Grimjaw made his way over to the gym. He might not be an enforcer anymore, but he had pride in his physique and the membership was relatively cheap. He could have gone to the library or the limited PAD stations, but something about working his body always made him happy.

——

Nothing beat hitting the refresher after a good workout and meal. Between tightening his belt at the Cafeteria and avoiding getting addicted to PAD time, Grimjaw had saved up healthy helping of Work Credits.

"Almost enough, and just about to hit the deadline."

There were holo visiting hours scheduled for almost every inmate. However with a little greasing, the guards would allow a prisoner to schedule a monitored extended call outside the Cavern.

"Hope I have enough. No, it needs to be enough. Smooth Brow is counting on me."

Just a few more shifts and Grimjaw will have enough to be there for his sister's birthday party. He might only be able to attend for a couple of hours, but it will mean the world to her.

"Just a few more shifts and you can see her smile, Blue Boy."

Grimjaw went to bet on his bunk imagining the look on his sister's face.

——

Been a while since we have seen a planetside look at Highreach in the Edin system. Figured with all the criminals, there is probably going to be at least one correctional facility on the planet. Not as bad as most Imperial prisons in canon or legends given it is actually aimed at rehabilitation without the use drugs and mind control devices. The Pit *dramatic sting plays* is more for appearance's sake so the rest of the Empire doesn't accuse Las of being soft on lawbreakers.

Crossposted on SB and SV

 

[Yacov]

Omake: The Imperial Scout and Research Atmospheric Repulsorcraft (ISRAR)

Product Information

Manufacturer:

• Mindan R&D (prototype)
• Mindan Shipyards (limited production run)

Model: Imperial Scout and Research Atmospheric Repulsorcraft

Type: Planetary Science Vessel


Technical Specifications

Diameter: 15 meters

Height: 8 meters

Maximum Acceleration: 150 kph

Maximum Altitude: 50 Km

Engine Unit(s): Repulsorlift generators

Shielding: none

Armament: 3 Stun cannon turrets

Crew: 5 crew and 1 medical droid

Passengers: 5 passengers and 5 specimens

Cargo Capacity: 5 metric tons

Consumables: 1 week

Other systems:

• Organism scaled tractor beam
• Stabilizer technology
• Large amounts of externally mounted scanning and survey equipment and internal electronics suite.
• Expanded Medical/Research Bay
• 5 Force Cages

Usage

Availability: Imperial Government

Roles:

• Research vessel
• Survey craft
• Exploration expeditions

Affiliation: Galactic Empire

——
Description

"This hunk of junk is a slower, less armed, and less maneuverable YT Light Freighter."

"Why the frak are you trying to dogfight with it!? This is a research vessel!" - conversation during the ISRAR's initial test flight

The Imperial Scout and Research Atmospheric Repulsorcraft has been described as a love child between a YT series, a Flarestar-class attack shuttle, and an airspeeder that none of them wanted. A product of the Mindan R&D department, the ISRAR was designed for the collection and research of organisms on pacified Imperial frontier worlds.

Characteristics

"That looks like a flying lab prefab."

"That's because it is a flying lab prefab." - Noted exchange upon delivery of an ISRAR to a Minda-2 research base

The ISRAR's circular saucer shape was chosen to allow for the maximum surface area for external sensor and scanning equipment. Plans for shielding were scrapped due to worries of potential interference it may cause to ISRAR's more sensitive external instruments.

Said instruments also cause the ISRAR to be a giant blinding beacon to anyone with even rudimentary sensors under normal operating conditions. Designers finding little reason to spend credits and manpower hours on subtlety given the remote and "low risk" areas the vessels were expected to work in. A joke among the MSDF navy is that there is little point to installing a distress beacon on an ISRAR, they can detect it from orbit just fine.

The organism scaled tractor beam the ISRAR carries was fine tuned to allow for the collection of (hopefully) non-sentient specimens without necessitating a landing. With the entrance via tractor beam leading to an open area with good sight lines for a quick stun blast should the specimen prove uncooperative.

Three stun cannon turrets were installed as both a method of self defense and a way to acquire specimens from the larger and more aggressive organisms in an environment. Two turrets are located on the bottom of the ship and one on the top. The turrets can be controlled manually or automatically from within the ship given the ship's extensive electronics suite.

Poor acceleration, climbing speed and agility make the ISRAR a poor choice in a dogfight against even militarized airspeeders. The stabilizer technology meant to minimize lab equipment damage has been noted to actively fight against a pilot should they attempt any evasive maneuvering or rapid turns.

Role

"Welcome to Imperial Research Site 23856-B students. Hit up the ISRAR for your shots if you don't want to spend this research trip in the refresher." - Welcome speech given to a a Ugean Academy field trip

The primary intended mission of an ISRAR is to launch from a research facility for a few day and conduct scans and collect samples from the surrounding terrain or sites of interest. Extended missions could be conducted if cargo space reserved for samples was used to store more consumables. The ISRAR could also land and act as the center for a temporary base for any expeditions to take advantage of its research facilities and larger than standard medical bay.

Private interest among traders or military personnel for any export model of the ISRAR has been minimal with a noted disdain among pilots. Although there has been some interest expressed by some big game hunters, academic institutions, and exploration companies should sales to private parties be made available.

——

A little ship I made for the fun of it and to see if I could. Good and cost effective at its assigned niche. Terrible at trying to perform any other role. Could a YT light freighter be converted to do the same job? Probably, but that has vessels wasted being stuck planetside when they could be out trading between systems instead.

I also tried to avoid using advanced ship parts like hyperdrives or complex engines and the like so it could be built completely in house in Minda. Being able to move fast or travel between systems is probably not needed for a vessel dedicated to doing surveying and research from a planetside base.

I would try to find a picture, but I think most people will be able to figure out what look I am going for. This whole thing started because I couldn't get the image of Imperials buzzing Vendari villages in flying saucers out of my head.

Crossposted on SB and SV

 

[Yacov]

Warning: This Omake contains a Big List. Open the spoiler at your own risk,

Omake: Homesteader's Dream

POV: Jimbobio, second son and 18th generation Dantooine farmer, Rolling Greens, Ugea

"Later Honey, today's the Big Day!"

Stretching his neck, Jimbobio emerged from the Bi-state memory plastic trailer that was his family's home for the past month. Between the trailers and the synthecrete structures, it was clear Ugea intended this place was set up to deal with a temporary increased influx of new migrants.

"Good luck Darling! Me and the kids will be waiting with the bags packed!"

Not that it will matter for Jimbobio much longer. After weeks of struggling through flimsiwork and interviews, he was finally ready to become a Homesteader. The program's terms were rumored to be generous, but the application was said to be equally brutal.

"Welcome, sir. How can we help you today?"

The receptionist's lackluster smile did little to deter Jimbobio's excitement. Ugea was a rare world in the galaxy. A place where the Empire was giving land away, not seizing it. He'd heard tales from others in the camp. Where other worlds were pushing farmers off their land with blaster and tank, but not here.

"I have finished my application process and expedited mandatory education course for the Homesteader Program and would like to pick out a plot and package."

Here on Ugea there was the Homesteader Program. The planet needed people, and they needed farmers in order to feed those people. The Program divided up the Imperial Lands on Ugea into plots. A Homesteader could apply to get probationary ownership of a plot in exchange for working the land and eventually paying off the cost.

"Congratulations sir. Which Homesteader's Package would you like to submit for?"

It was unfortunate that Jimbobio lost most of his wealth in the move, but he did not regret moving quickly. The Imperial military had suddenly started swarming the surface of Dantooine shortly after Alderaan blew up, accusing anyone that looked funny of being a Rebel. Some folks the Empire took away didn't come back.

"I would like to look at the Homesteader's Basic Starter Package."

His friends heard them talking about having intel on for some "secret base", and that was when Jimbobio knew it was time to leave. The Empire would turn the crust of the planet upside down if they thought Rebels were underneath it. It didn't matter the Empire owned the land or not.

"Of course, sir. Just give me a moment to pull it up the information."

So Jimbobio sold his small section of the family land on the cheap. His brother was disappointed in him, but it was his portion so his brother couldn't stop it. The price was just barely enough to get him and his wife and kids to Minda, but not enough to start a new life on its own. Thankfully the Imperials here were of a kinder breed than those who set up shop back home.

"Here you are sir. The Homesteader's Basic Starter Package entitles you to the following."

Spoiler: Summary of the Homesteader's Basic Starter Package

The List

Homesteader's Basic Starter Package: the most basic starter kit of technology, tools, and amenities provided for those who apply to become a Homesteader on Ugea. Estimated cost: 26,000-32,000 credits. This kit includes:

Structures

• 1 plastcrete prefab 1 floor housing unit with plastiboard flooring and 2 transplast windows. Includes one general area room, 2 bedding alcoves, 1 spare room for bedding, storage, or alternative use, and 1 fully equipped refresher and wastewater reclamation closet. Roof accessible via external ladder.
• 2 plastcrete silos for main crop storage.
• 1 external cellar dug and reinforced with plastcrete.
• 1 external plastcrete water storage tank with water collection and filtration unit installed on top.
• 1 solar panel.
• 1 small windmill.
• 1 flagpole with Galactic Empire flag provided.

Furniture

• 2 fiber-grown tables.
• 1 metal basin.
• 2-4 fiber-grown chairs depending on size of the family unit.
• 2 fiber-grown shelving units.
• 1 Shaak hide rug.
• 3 posters chosen from a selection provided by the Imperial Propaganda Bureau.

Utilities

• 2 free standing lighting fixtures.
• 1 free standing space heater.
• 1 medium sized house fan.
• 1 medium sized refrigeration chest.
• 1 medium sized stove and oven unit.
• 1 large storage battery
• 1 back up generator.
• 1 general multi-purpose charging unit.

Clothes and sundries

• 4 sets of coarseweave clothing per family member and 1 set of of duranex agricultural work clothes. Gloves and boots sized and included.
• 5-20 pairs of socks.
• 2 bolts of linen
• 2-4 linen blankets. 2-4 pillows made from local grasses.
• 8 grass woven baskets.
• 0-4 dolls and/or action figures from the Heroes of Minda line and accompanying playset.
• 10 plastiflex crates and 20 flimsicard boxes for general and small crop storage.
• An assortment of general plastene liquid receptacles.
• 2 large plastene bowls and 8 small plastene bowls.
• 8 plastene plates.
• 8 sets of plastene utensils.
• 2 metal casserole pans and 2 metal frying pans.
• 1 booklet for crafting items from local grasses and clay.
• 1 manual on foraging, hunting, and butchering on Ugea.
• 1 basic home maintenance toolkit and DIY manual.
• 1 basic medikit and first aid booklet.
• 1 sewing kit
• 1 cleaning kit containing a mop, a broom, 4 rags, a laundry pole, and large jugs of various soaps.
• 1 complimentary fruit and Shaak jerky basket. Substitutes based on diet available.
• A Model 6 Sporting Blaster Pistol and gun safe may granted after a further vetting process to the homestead for self defense. This is contingent on obtaining the proper licensing and the owner demonstrating proper gun safety and gun storage practices. Careless or reckless blaster use will result in the homesteader's license being rescinded and their blaster confiscated.

Farming and farm equipment

• Allotment of 8-17 acres depending on size and capabilities of the family unit. Heavily encouraged for use on farming activities. Cottage and family level industry tolerated. Heavy industry or other potential environmentally damaging activities without obtaining a permit discovered by an inspector will result in fines or arrest.
• A choice of 8 different commonly available crops. These crops include Correlian buckwheat, Agamarian soybeans, fruits such as Dantooinian sphere-fruit, Vormfruit, and Forrolow berries, various vegetables such as Chokeroot and Bloatgourd, and cover crops for livestock to supplement Ugea's native grasses. Exchange with other homesteaders encouraged.
• 1 basic seed launcher, blaster shaped. Incapable of causing harm to most organics. Fast grow function not included.
• 12-30 large bags of enhanced Shaak manure fertilizer based on land allotment for initial planting.
• 1 basic Agri-kit for soil and plant testing.
• 1 assortment of basic sentient powered farming tools.
• 4 medium agricultural water containers.
• 1 small, low end used speeder with a max value of 600 credits. Options include the HVP-200 Hover Shooper and the Commuter Gravsled. Guaranteed 3 year warranty.
• 1 attachable repulsorlift trailer.
• 1 ASP labor droid with the basic "tenant farmer" programming and tool upgrade package. Able to preform basic tilling, watering, and enough memory to store harvesting protocols of up to 12 commonly available crops.
• 1 rudimentary PAD for droid control and general use. It is connected to the local atmospheric sensor network and Mindan government department contact information preregistered. Adjustments to limb holder available and complimentary stand holder provided.

Services

• 1 savings and credit account opened at the nearest Ugean government banking institution in the primary homesteader's name. Payments to the Homsteader Program will also be made through said account.
• 1 gold level account access at the Ugean Granary and Food Reserves for 1 year guaranteed. Extensions may be granted based on circumstance.
• Permit to sell directly to the Ugean Granary. Depends on compliance with quality inspections. Pre-approved for 5 years before renewal.
• 1 silver level Ugean train pass. Subscription payments covered for 2 years.

Jimbobio could only gulp at the gargantuan list in front of him. It took over an hour and help from the reception to understand all the Ugean was offering him and his family.

"This is a lot more than I was expecting. I would not have been surprised if you left me and my folks in a hole in the ground and well wishes."

Jimbobio had already chosen Vormfruit and Bloatgourd as the main crops for his farm before even seeing the list of options. Dantooine was on the Myto's Arrow, so it was to be expected that some of its produce to be available on Minda. He never could get Sphere-Fruit to grow right.

"Ugea prides itself on providing the maximum possible support for new settlers. We understand the first years are the roughest for farms starting out."

Bloatgourd could be the subsistence crop, they should be able to sustain themselves with help from the Reserve. Worst comes to worst, his fellow potential Homesteaders in the camp promised to swap crops if needed.

"Don't you worry, I'm gonna pay off the 30,000 credits in no time. Families don't survive being farmers as long as we have without a trade secret or two."

The loan may be the price of a small starship, but it was doable with the low interest rate they were offering. Vormfruit will be where the real money comes from. As much as it hurt to plan around, the Empire's search is probably going to disrupt the harvest on Dantooine for a least a few years. That will allow Jimbobio to secure his small portion of the market share.

His contact on Voss was still willing to take any Vormfruit Jimbobio could export to him after he got the farm up and running. An Imperial operation disrupting planting and harvesting had become an unfortunately understandable obstacle as of late. They had known each other for over a decade, and you don't get into the agricultural business without being willing to play the long game.

"Just make sure all the tightening of your belts doesn't stop you from enjoying what Rolling Greens have to offer. You'll only be an hour train ride away."

Jimbobio certainly won't be partaking in any restaurants or getting caught in any tourist traps, that's for sure. Still, he had heard about a hunting club that had their meetings in the city. He could regale them of the time he fended off a Kinrath all by himself.

"There is little chance of me becoming a hermit. Ugea is going to be my home from now on. It would be shame if I didn't act like it."

Leaving the building with land deed in hand was one of the proudest moments in Jimbobio's life. He hadn't felt this good since the first time his pa let him fly the family Jet-wing. That good mood only grew as he entered his family's room in the camp for the final time.

"Grab your bags everyone! Our new life awaits!"

——
Me: "Let's try to design a cheap homestead for a migrant family with nothing but the shirts on their back. That will be a fun project."

Me after falling down a deep rabbit hole on the various kinds of Star Wars furniture, materials, plants, animals, and farming equipment: "Why are a fourth of the crops, animals, and materials in this database exclusively for Endor?"

Crossposted on SB and SV

 

[Yacov]

Omake: The Guild Suppressor

Production Information

Manufacturer: Guild of Commerce, Production and Protection

Model: Guild Suppressor Landspeeder

Type: Heavily Armored Repulsorcraft

Cost: 38,000 Credits new

Technical Information

Max Speed: 175 km/h

Engine Unit: Repulsorlift

Hull: Layered Armored Hull

Armament:

• 4x MWC-35c repeating cannons. Each in one of the cardinal directions.

Other Systems:

• Expanded Communal R717 Refrigerant Tank (cooling and anti-looting system)

Crew:

• 1 Pilot
• 4 Gunners
• 1 Mechanic

Passengers: 1

Cargo Capacity: 20 tons

Consumables: 3 days


Introduction

"It's just a box with guns sticking out everywhere. What's next, Beam Tubes?" - Guild outpost commander upon receiving their new armored vehicle.

The Guild Suppressor was a result of necessity and legal loopholes. Its status as a (technically) civilian vehicle follows a trend for the quasi military status of the Guild's armed forces. Despite the drawbacks and concessions made in the vehicle's requirements, the Suppressor continues to be a viable option in the Guild's vehicle bay.

Initial Procurement

"What do you mean we are not allowed to have tanks!?"- Guild representative upon learning their request for Occupiers was denied.

As the Guild was entering its expansion phase throughout the Myto Sector, pirates and other hostile forces began to take notice of the new rising power in the sector. This led to an increase in raids against outlying Guild facilities in order to seize Guild assets and resources. These raids were conducted as hit and run operations with mainly infantry, speeders, and the occasional landspeeder.

Guild analysts looked over the reports on these attacks and concluded that the addition of armored vehicles to Guild outposts would decrease the success rate of these raids significantly. Unfortunately the Guild ran into issues with its overlords. The Imperial government had recently approved the creation of a Guild patrol fleet for their embattled trade lanes. Perhaps in reaction to this, the Empire was less than enthusiastic to allow what was still technically a civilian organization, even one under Imperial control, to start assembling a force of tanks independent of the Imperial military hierarchy so soon after the last concession.

As a result the Guild was stymied in its efforts to purchase large amounts of even outdated tanks or military vehicles of any kind. This did not impact wealthier Guild worlds as they could always rely on their substantial Imperial garrisons to protect their installations. However this left the less developed Guild worlds, the main recipients of the increased raids, to search for alternative sources of armored vehicles.

Seeking a design that could both defend their facilities and skirt Imperial regulations, the beleaguered minor worlds pooled their credits and approached the sector renowned Mindan R&D to design their vehicle. A mediocre research team unenthusiastically picked up the contract as a side project.

Design

"They can't ambush us if we have guns pointed in every direction!" - Mindan R&D designer on the weapon configuration of the Suppressor.

Given a set of requirements and motivated by a mediocre funding boost, the Mindan R&D team got to work. The team assigned saw the project as drudge work, and devoted just enough effort to fulfill the requirements of their procurement contract and little more. It was this lack of interest that was later accredited for the project's rapid development and lack of feature creep that sometimes resulted from the R&D department.

First was to determine what chassis this vehicle would use. The designers tried to avoid using any military models as a way to avoid Imperial scrutiny. Luckily, scrolling through the recently acquired Rothana Heavy Engineering vehicle database offered a workaround.

The RTT-04 Republic Troop Transport had been decommissioned and sold as military surplus following the conclusion of the Clone Wars. The disarmed vehicle was now cleared to be sold to civilian buyers primarily as a cargo hauler or industrial vehicle. The designers found the chassis perfect for their needs.

Next came the weaponry. The RTT-04's original weapons load out of laser cannons and missile launchers were stripped from the design due to being too militarized. The turret mounting and the onboard targeting computer were also removed to save costs and because it did not fit the design the team had in mind.

This vehicle was intended to face guerrilla assaults where it would likely face fire from multiple angles, directions, and altitudes. To combat this, the design's armament was to be four crew operated and aimed repeating blasters placed in each cardinal direction. The gun ports these blaster would be mounted on would be larger than normal to allow the blaster to fire at enemies who were crawling as well as hiding in trees or hilltops.

The specific blaster to use was the hottest topic of debate for the design team. The choice was eventually settled on the MWC-35c repeating cannon, which was still classified as a heavy repeating blaster despite the name. The biggest draws were the MWC's large ammo count as well as its more powerful single fire option which the designers hoped would be enough to damage enemy light vehicles.

To cool these four repeating blasters, the troop and cargo bays were gutted to make room for an Expanded Communal R717 Refrigerant Tank firmly installed in the center of the vehicle. Test crews remarked on how it made it a pain to maneuver around the cabin, but admitted putting it externally would just leave it an easy target for enemy heavy infantry to mission kill the vehicle.

One of the main drawbacks to the original RTT-04 is was it's relatively weak armor. The design called for this new vehicle to function as an assault vehicle, so the designers took the easy way out of just stacking more of the existing armor onto the chassis. The result was a drastic cut to the design's speed compared to its predecessor in exchange for being much more resistant against infantry weaponry and some of the lighter crew served weapons. Not enough to match the armor of a real tank, but certainly an improvement.

Role

"It's right on top of us! Our blasters aren't strong enough! Run!" - Record of first deployment of Suppressors against what was later identified as Rebel elements.

When submitted for review, the Guild's Imperial overlords were satisfied the Suppressors did not represent a potential threat to the Imperial military. Production was greenlit and the familiarity and simplicity made initial manufacturing a smooth process.

While never seeing the rate of production or the prestige of main battle line tanks, the Suppressor was well received where it was posted. The Suppressor could primarily be found in Guild outposts and facilities with significant distance from the nearest Imperial garrison. Their main role was to engage pirate, Rebel, and other hostile forces looking to seize Guild resources and stores.

One of the main tactics of the Suppressor was to drive straight into the enemy raiders before opening up in all four directions. This had the added benefit of suppressing the area around the Suppressor allowing for infantry forces the opportunity to take advantageous positions against the enemy.

Unfortunately the Suppressor's relatively weak armor made this tactic nonviable in the open warfare of the continuing Galactic Civil War. While the Suppressor's armor made it nearly invulnerable to handheld blasters and resistant to low yield grenades, it struggled to defend against anything with anti-tank capabilities.

Should a Suppressor get hit with a RPS-6 Rocket Launcher, a HH-15 Projectile Launcher, or Emperor forbid a PLX-1 it will find itself quickly immobilized at best under repeated fire. To say nothing if it faces a tank with a proper blaster cannon or missile rack. Penetrating hits also risk a refrigerant burst into the cabin which would lower the vehicle's rate of fire drastically to say nothing of what it will do to the crew.

Adaptations were introduced to mitigate this issue. Drivers were trained to lean their vehicles to offer maximum armor towards enemy fire. Gunners were drilled to "aim for the tubes" first. Even should a Suppressor be immobilized, the crew was trained to utilize their wreck as a small defensive bunker until reinforcements arrive.

One of the more famous adaptations was the (re)introduction of Link Armor as an upgrade option for crew protection. This old style of armor was relatively cheap compared to replacing injured crew and provided decent protection from both spalling and burns. The helmets given were coined as Splatter Masks by its users. Named so due to the saying "if you need more protection, your head is going to get splattered anyway."

Variants

"Do you have to take the whole Suppressor? You obviously just want the T-21s." - Guild Garrison Commander upon hearing his last Suppressor is being requisitioned by a local Imperial military officer.

The initial run of the Suppressors was able to meet the requirements set out for it. However, plenty of Imperial Governors, Guild administrators, and individual manufacturers sought to add their own spin on what they saw as a vehicle with too many cut corners to reach its full potential. Most variants only saw limited use, but two deserve a bit more attention.

T-21 Variant

The first thought many Guild security commanders had when considering the Suppressor was: if they wanted to make it stronger, why not copy the Empire? One easy way to do this was to swap out the MWC-35c for the more Imperial T-21 Light Repeating Blaster.

On paper this seemed like a smart decision. The T-21 was more readily available, it was cheaper, and it was much lighter. The massive Expanded Communal Tank would be removed and replaced with individual generators installed in easy to swap holders next to each blaster. This allowed for more space within the cabin and an ease of maintenance. Users of the T-21 variant argued that their choice of weaponry was far superior to the original.

The issue was that nearby Imperial military garrisons also agreed with this assessment. This would lead to incidents where whenever there was even rumors of supply problems, local Imperial military units would show up to Guild outposts to perform a Strategic Timely Emergency Appropriating Liquidation to requisition the T-21s from the variant Suppressor to increase their supply of heavy weapons.

This rate of "artificial attrition" became so high that interest in the T-21 variant never came close to that of the original Suppressor. The original suffered a much lower rate of S.T.E.A.L. incidents than its variant due to the the bulky Expanded Communal R717 Refrigerant Tank. This massive and pain to remove tank built into the original made it much harder to convert the MWCs into heavy infantry weapons due to Imperials having to source the individual refrigerant tanks themselves.

Tracked Variant

This variant of the Suppressor made the chase to swap the repulsorlift engine for a continuous track assembly. This was mainly done on less advanced worlds in order to reduce the technological requirements for producing and maintaining a Suppressor.

Unfortunately this ease of access came at the cost of increased ongoing costs. The more complex track system increased the heavy maintenance needed to keep the variant running when compared to the original. As a result most of worlds with the technology to do so chose to build the repulsor original over the tractor variant.

Conclusion

"Yes it is dumb and simple, but if it is dumb, simple, and gets the job done, then it is not a bad option." - Pilot of a Suppressor explaining the virtues of his assigned vehicle.

The Suppressor was never designed to be the hottest new thing. It was never meant to revolutionize warfare or rewrite military doctrine. The Suppressor had two jobs: be competent enough to do what it was built for, and be inefficient enough to be ignored by the Imperial military, and in this it got passing marks.

As the Galactic Civil War dragged on, more anti-tank weaponry began showing up in Rebel hands and weapons restrictions on the Guild were loosened further. The Suppressor was quietly shuffled further into the periphery to be forgotten by most. However, on those poor worlds where the enemies of the Guild could not afford a tank or even rockets, the Suppressor can still be seen guarding its territory against any destitute sap that thinks challenging the Guild is their ticket to next day's meal.

——
Welcome to the Outer Rim. Where you are only a single light year away from military tactics and equipment devolving a century or three. Got bit by the vehicle designing bug again. Often what gets produced by military industry isn't the perfected meta, it is what the politics, bureaucracy, current resources, and circumstances allow that is then rushed out to solve something that has already become a problem.

This beauty was inspired by the British WW1 Whippet. Great against infantry and light vehicles that can't fight back, not so great against other tanks or anything with anti-tank capabilities. The Splatter Masks were just a way to lean in on the WW1 aesthetic.

Crossposted on SB and SV

 

[Yacov]

Omake: Building a Castle

POV: Vio, Andrennian Catina owner,
Vio's Cantina and Roughhouse, Edin system, Highreach, Edinspire, 1ABY

Vio wiped the counter and a glass clean while he surveyed his castle. This Cantina was supposed to be a short term thing. A way to launder his Black Market savings into cleaner assets to make ends meet. Just because you were getting out of the game doesn't mean all the money you made before was spotless.

However as time went on, Vio found himself growing more and more comfortable with his position as a Cantina owner. Sure the goods and services he was moving may no longer be illegal, but there was a certain thrill that could be found in running a smooth operation. Watching what you built earn a profit and know that you made it happen.

"For the last time Quamall, I ain't serving you reactor coolant. I don't care if you want to see if you can regenerate through ingesting it."

Unfortunately there was always troublesome people to deal with no matter your profession. People who would take one look at the status quo and try something off the table just to see what happens. Case in point, this pain loving Abyssin at his counter.

"C'mon Vio. This current bodyguard job is as slow as a Hutt being driven to attend a charity event. No one has shot me in days. I need to check if I am losing my eeeedge."

That must be devastating for poor Quamall. He was the best bodyguard in the district and always took on the most naive offworld merchants under his eye. What few of his clients realized was that his "benevolence" was just an excuse so he could jump in front of blaster fire for his own amusement.

"Look, I can't source you the reactor coolant. However, in recognition of you always recommending my Cantina for your clients' meeting location, I can arrange something. I will have a talk with Mwork about upping your opponent's voltage for this week's Shockboxing match in the Roughhouse."

The Cantina's Aqualish bouncer/referee hates it when Vio interferes with his shockbox matches. Treats the whole thing like some Sacred Shaak. However if a boxer wants to make a match harder on himself on purpose, that could probably be swung. Far be it from Mwork to stop fighters from "challenging themselves". Speaking of his employees…

"Oi Nil! Quit making goggly eyes at those Droid Balls and keep making the rounds! The Bounce room in the Roughhouse needs cleaning!"

It wouldn't do if one of the main attractions of Vio's Cantina got a bad reputation for cleanliness. When he bought this place the Roughhouse in the basement had all the markings of a training ground for one of Edin's ex-gangs. Damaged, but still sturdy targets, sound proofed walls, the lingering smell of used explosives, burn marks everywhere, the works. Probably why he had been able to acquire the property for so cheap.

These days Vio had the Roughhouse converted to house all sorts of physical activities and games. A way to allow the more physical minded citizens in Edinspire to stretch their muscles in an increasingly crowded city. From playing with blasters in the Bounce room, to launching Rocket Darts, or getting their blood up at the weekly Shockboxing night.

"Boss you know Ballzabub has been having trouble merging since last week. I have to watch how my babies are doooing."

Vio was regretting ever introducing Nil to Droid Ball Fighting. The game had soaked up all the Rodian'sattention span. She was a hawk at picking out cheaters and thieves when she could focus, but her eyes were always drifting to the Droid Ball table. If she could spend all day managing matches, she would.

At least it kept her from going back to pickpocketing. Vio had a good thing going here, and no criminal activity in his Cantina was going to ruin it. No one would find even an unsanctioned Sabaac game in his home. He had to report a smuggler last week trying to peddle Death Sticks. It made him feel dirty how clean he'd gone.

"Vio you cantankerous old monkey. Let the little sow enjoy her youth while she has it."

Vio suppressed a wince as the elde-mature Gamorrean Matron entered his establishment. One of the few contacts from his old line of work that stuck around. Miss Gam and her meat processing company had been a fixture of the Edinspire cityscape for over three decades. Which often made her impossible to avoid when you worked in the service industry.

"Miss Gam! How lovely to gaze upon your visage again. Here to organize another shipment of Potwa Beer for one of your parties?"

Potwa Beer was always the way to keep Miss Gam on her sweet side. A method Vio had only expanded when he and her started up their current business arrangement. Luckily he was able to help the brewers he knew offworld get their flimsiwork in order to continue to move their product under the new Guild regulations.

"Oh Vio, you know just what I like. Unfortunately I am just here to visit an old friend and brood. So just some Muja Fruit juice for me. Wouldn't want to get too rowdy this early in the afternoon, would we?"

Better for Vio's sanity if Miss Gam didn't get rowdy in his presence ever. For all Miss Gam dressed like she belonged at an opera, she was still a Gamorrean at the end of the day. One that Edin's previous gangs stayed well away from, and with good reason.

"It's my sons you see. They are not applying themselves enough. I keep encouraging them to join the Guild so they can earn some mortts, but it is like talking to a butchered corpse. Not much for conversation and only fit for getting shoved into the grinder."

The underworld still tells tales of when a Houk gangster came to her company to try and extort her for credits. Miss Gam introduced him to her Cleaver, and his henchmen got to experience the grim fate of being beaten to death by the two halves of their still very much alive and screaming employer.

Later that month Miss Gam complained to Vio that it took a few more swings for her than it usually does when she beats someone to death with body parts. Vio had assured her with all the seriousness of a man on death row that the gangster was just soft and fat and it had nothing to do with her end of things.

"Speaking of butchery. Did I ever tell you how glad I am that I can be blessed with your product? Those slices of Shaak really bring the Cantina Special together."

He was only laying it on a little thick. Miss Gam ran a tight ship when it came to quality control. The Cantina Special of Grilled Shaak Cheese on Buckwheat with Forrolow Berry Jam and sliced Shaak meat was a hit among his customers. Some of them were even asking him for the recipe.

"Vio, you know you don't have to sweet talk me. My little Funny Monkey will always have a place in my life. Save that for weaseling those poor Guilders out of their loot. Don't think I don't see the scoundrel you used to be when you see those fresh faces walk in."

Bashfulness was the last thing Vio expected to feel from this conversation. He wasn't even doing it for the money at this point. He wasn't just trying to keep his skills sharp. Not his fault for being unable to resist someone laying an iced honey cake right in front of him.

"Just trying to impart my wisdom to the next generation Miss Gam."

It wasn't even anything dangerous or illegal like blaster or grenades. These Guilders would walk in complaining about being unable to offload a few containers of Tibanna Gas or a crate of plasteel. Like they had never met a fence or a flexible wholesaler in their entire lives.

So Vio earned some money on the side acting as a middleman once again. In little quantities here and there with word of mouth transactions. Not enough to attract the attention of the Guild or anything.

"On the topic of wisdom. Quamall, my dear. Would you be willing to give a mentorship program for my sons at the Guild?"

Quamall narrowed his eye at the Matron. Looking like he was just offered a rotten nerf steak. To be fair, he kind of was.

"No way Miss Gam. Even I know how much your kids spend on their PADs instead of swinging their axes. My reputation would be down the drain in a month. I'm not crazy."

As his patrons descended into playful bickering, Vio thought on his life. What had happened to this planet where a criminal like him could earn a semi-honest living?

——
A look at how the former criminal element could be adapting to a more lawful environment on Highreach. Everyone still has hints of The Bad Old Days, but they are moving on with their lives.

Crossposted on SB and SV

 

[Yacov]

Omake: The Guild Walker Division

POV: Texa Rang
RIII: Guardian, member of the RIII: Syndicate The Order of the Brass Riders
Certifications: Walker IV, Rescuer II
Minda-2

Texa gave one last check over of her freshly installed rotary laser cannon before hopping back into the seat of her Gladiator Walker. Hopefully it will stop her from getting swarmed again like last mission. Adjusting the plasteel slab of a shield on her left mount before speaking into her commlink.

"This is Ranger, Walker is fully online and ready. Sound off before we begin the job."

Ever since Minda-2 was opened fully for business, the Brass Riders have been flooded with work. The dense jungles made navigating with tracked and even repulsor vehicles a difficult challenge. Especially when it came to engaging attackers that struck from the trees off of what passed for roads on this backwater.

Still, corporations and private individuals needed to move convoys between facilities and cities, which often meant land travel. Since a lot of people couldn't wait to trail behind a military patrol, this made small and agile walker squads like hers invaluable as escorts.

"Cheapskate, you finished resetting your "pile bunker"and clearing out all the ration bar wrappers off your pillow?"

Sure a civilian walker like Cheapskate's Rufescent-class cargo hauler might not hold a candle to a proper military LECA. However, when all you're facing is angry wildlife and the occasional low tech bandit, one doesn't need that much in terms of weapon and armor to do a convoy run. Even his excavator arm was more than enough to deal with most of Minda-2's wildlife.

Even without access to military grade tech, the Minda system was quickly become a haven for independent walker pilots. The parts Texa got access to as a civilian here still allowed her Gladiator to run smoother than at any point during her career in the arena.

"Ha ha. Just you wait. I'll pay off these loans in no time and then I'll be tuning up my Rufescent into a monster that will make an AT-ST look like a drunk featherless bird. For now my walker is as good as it is going to get."

Cheapskate might just pull that off given he'd managed to convert a large industrial piston into a melee weapon without tearing his walker apart when using it. The Sullustan had taken a cheap star port hauler and made it able to tank and dish out more damage than Texa thought was possible. The tune up he gave her Gladiator certainly showed he learned something from Engineering School.

Speaking of damage…

"Yo Corporate. Your Espo up and running on your end, or do you need more time for your hair and skin routine?

Texa could see the Heptooinian flinch behind his Espo Walker 91's canopy. Corporate's 91 might be considered outdated since the 101 came out, but it could still do some good work. Texa couldn't count the times Corporate's stun cannon and grenades have fended off the more aggressive megafauna.

"Mock me all you want you brute. A proper walker pilot must look good for the trembling peons when strutting about. Maybe all that time you spent in the pits knocked that common sense out of you Ranger. Also yes, my mount is in peak form."

Corporate might be an insufferable fop, but his piloting was top notch. He never talked about where he was trained or how he got his Espo 91, but the Guild cleared him and said he had no criminal record. Texa could deal with him off the job because he was a consummate professional while on the clock.

"Right looks like the client has finished loading up their convoy. Route's been patrolled less than a week ago. This turns out to be a Lum Run and the drinks are on me!"

Not that the drinks were ever not on her. Her two squad mates were always credit pinchers when it came time to unwind. What's the point in coming out of the latest brush with death if you can't pour away your winnings to blow some steam off afterwards?

That's why she left the arena despite being a Rattataki. Things were getting to stale and regimented with the fights. They even started forbidding pilots from disengaging their emergency shut down feature, took the chance of crashing and exploding right out of the fight. They had even were talking about switching over to droid only fights, the cowards. Bloodshed is what the crowd came to see, not oil spills.

"Don't worry guys, there is absolutely no chance of things going wrong."

Texa ignored the groans of her team from that declaration. Now what dangerous gribbly are they going to run into this time? Oh she hopes it is the big one with the serrated claws Corporate scared off last month. Maybe they'll even bring friends.

——
Yeah so it turns out Civilian Combat Walkers are a thing in Star Wars and Minda-2 opening up gives them the perfect chance to show their stuff. I have little doubt they would become very popular among certain parts of the Guild. The ones who want LECAs, but settle for the equivalent of LECAs at home.

This would encouraged by the LECA's prominence in the Mindan military, especially on Minda-2, and a good base of adjacent knowledge on walkers among Mindan engineers due to Las' research into the combat armors early on. A robust "civilian" market would also train up the engineering sector for further military projects and production.

Crossposted on SB and SV

 

[Yacov]

Omake: Meanwhile, at the Rebellion

Commander Flotz, Rebel Forward Operating Base, Battle of Ord Tiddell, 1ABY

"Status Report Commander!"

Commander Foltz rubbed the bridge of his nose as another report chimed on his comlink. What he wouldn't give to be back in the air with a blaster in his hands. Regardless of the promotion Command had given him.

"What have you got for me, Sergeant Potts?"

But noooo. Sane commanders had to hide in the command post away from the frontlines. The Jedi back in the War were able to prance around the battlefield all they like. Unfortunately Foltz didn't have whatever space magic they used to get away with doing that and still being able to coordinate an entire offensive operation.

So here he was, stuck in a requisitioned cantina pushing figures on a modified Dejarik board and giving orders that might not even reflect the situation on the ground by the time they were received. Foltz had spread out his forces both to maximize their individual abilities and to limit the damage from their lack of coordination by minimizing the chance of any friendly fire incidents in the chaos of battle. Not like they had any standardized uniform or codewords.

"The Gigoran Fighters are refusing to advance per your orders. They claim their contracts don't include charging straight into Imperial lines and say we need to increase their pay before they'll move."

Frak it all. He warned Alliance High Command this offensive was too rushed. Not enough time was taken to integrate the various Rebel cells into a single command structure. Taking this logistics hub was going to be hard enough without his troops from this cobbled together invasion force gainsaying every order he issues.

A decentralized command was fine for guerrilla tactics, but a sustained military effort needed a proper hierarchy. A few more months would have allowed them to iron out the kinks and build up the stockpiles necessary to sustain an offensive. However Command wanted the victory on Yavin to immediately translate into some tangible gains that they could use to further rally the galaxy to their cause.

"Tell them they'll get double rations for two weeks if they seize that position. Should they suddenly act like they can't understand Basic, tell them to take it up with the Imperial Army formation heading their way."

Their larders should be able to handle how much those white Wookiees eat. Sadly assistance from the civilian population was less enthusiastic than they'd hoped. Most fled the battlefield rather than stick around to support the cause. There wasn't much left to scavenge as the residents took anything that wasn't bolted down with them. Which left his forces mostly working with what they brought with them.

That shipment of extra parts from the Mindan Shipyard let them keep their stock of Stocks in good repair and keeping the supply lines open. It was the only thing keeping the their supply vessels voidborne when they got clipped by A-7s. His T-wings could only do so much to stop the harassment.

Some of the other Rebel leaders may complain about the Mindans not putting Credits in the pot, but Foltz understood the importance of logistics. That was what got him promoted after all. He just wishes that appreciation didn't lead to so many youngsters running up to him panicking like Adjutant Panner was doing right now.

"Sir! Dynamo Company is under fire from AT-DTs! They were powered down and camouflaged as trees in a nearby forest!"

Frak! Dynamo was one of his less well equipped units, and that was saying something considering his army was made up primarily of the Alliance's second and third line forces. Some of Dynamo only had their original SE-14s as their sole firearm. Still, Foltz couldn't risk that company routing. They were positioned in the center of his army and one of the few with experience in open warfare.

The Imperial Army was putting up a fierce resistance. Arranging counters to his formation with unnerving precision. They knew if we took this position we would be in the perfect location to rain fire down on their base of operations. He'd compliment the commander on the opposite side if he could before burning a hole through their forehead to stop them from pulling this nonsense again.

"Signal our MLC-3 light tanks to pin those DTs down. Then order our ULAVs to flank them once they are held down."

Foltz tried not to think about how he may have just spent years worth of a cell's vehicle build up in a single order. It felt cold and impersonal to order so much metal burned and not be able to see the results for hours if not days. They didn't have the stockpiles to continue waging war like this. Command was expecting to take a large portion of the Mid Rim with this offensive.

Foltz would be happy holding what they already had without overstretching. Although that was a fool's errand with the projections and orders coming from up top. It's like they were expecting every Imperial citizen to start charging Imperial repeating blasters the moment a Rebel sets foot planetside. Another chime from his comlink brought Foltz back to the battle.

"Commander, the Ithorian Infiltrators have knocked out the shield generators on their section of Imperial lines. We could knock out the Imperial plasmic artillery on the hill if we hit them now."

Well at least something is going to plan. Now all he needs is to get his armored elements and… he just sent them to plug the hole punched in his line by the Imperial ambush. Frak. Backup plan it is then.

"Dispatch the CK-6 swoop bikes as a rapid assault force to take out that artillery! I want that hill Imp free yesterday!"

Those bikes were going to get shredded, but they should get the job done. What he wouldn't give to be flying with his old rocket-jumper buddies clutching two thermal detonators in his hands again. They'd make that hill a crater in no time, but his bad hip dashed any hopes of that happening.

Fantasizing about his glory days helped Foltz cope with the reality of the situation. He can't keep spending metal and men like this. Eventually the Alliance is going to get ground down across the Rim. That would leave them vulnerable to an Imperial counterattack. He can only hope the worlds they take will have enough industry and stores to replace what they are spending, or this will be a short offensive.

——
The Battle of Ord Tiddell was the closest battle of the Mid Rim Offensive to the Myto Sector I could find. Figured it would be a good place to showcase the state the Rebellion is in at the moment. Which is being stretched thin by an over enthusiastic Alliance High Command that is still high off of Yavin.

The Rebels do end up taking Ord Tiddell in canon. When you throw the everything including the kitchen sink at an operation, you do tend to at least make some progress initially. Unfortunately the Rebels only manage to hold the planet for less than nine months before the Empire comes back and boots them off the world when the Mid Rim Offensive turns into the Mid Rim Retreat.

Crossposted on SB and SV

 

[Yacov]

Omake: From Top of the Cup to the Bottom of the Barrel

POV: Tak Gwut
RIII: Guardian
Certifications: Negotiator III, Infiltrator II, Adviser II
Head of Administration of the Mynock Pailers, a RI: Conclave Mercenary Company,
Mynock Pailers HQ balcony, Dewback Diggers Mining Settlement, Minda-4, Minda system, 1ABY

Tak gazed out across the semi arid desert that surrounded the plateau. The rings of Minda-4 dominating the night sky. The planet might be "The Abafar of the Minda system", but at least the view was amazing. Really put into perspective how far the two of them had come. From a pair of strangers with good chemistry chasing down petty pickpockets, to leaders of their own proper mercenary company!

Well "proper" might be stretching things a bit. They were barely two months in from beginning to expand their ranks. All the individuals jobs they pulled off finally made a big enough pile of credits to make something bigger than her and Garik. With Garik having saved up more between the two of them.

"Hey. I thought I would find you here."

Tak turned and gave a nod to the newly minted Head of Personnel. When the two had founded the Mynock Pailers, they had agreed Garik would handle physical training and tactical matters, while she would handle blaster training and strategic issues. The chevron he got to put on his power armor and the plaque he put in front of his office left him beaming for weeks.

"Was I that obvious? Blaster training out in the desert took longer than I expected. We barely made it back before the bridge retracted for the night. Mab Tyedor, that Aleena we recruited in the first round, ran ahead of us and got them to hold the bridge."

Over a dozen blasters going off for hours on end wasn't welcome in a settlement as small as this. So the Pailers had their range time a bit out into the desert where they wouldn't bother anyone. Fortunately they and it in time. She didn't fancy their chances scaling the cliffs in the dead of night after her troops wore themselves out training. Much less trying to organize an impromptu rotating guard watch.

Minda-4 was pretty barren and unsettled. To the point you could go for hours and not see a single sign of civilization. However the outskirts of settlements were infested with plenty of pests that had stowed away on passing freighters. Critters that would love to take a nibble on a someone sleeping out in the open. Tak thought she saw a mean looking womp rat stalking their party on their way back.

The reason training took so long was because her people couldn't shoot straight. Her recruits were just so bad at aiming. Ok not bad, just really green. Was she ever that bad at shooting a blaster? Probably. It feels so long ago when she fired her first blaster.

"I saw the scores. Don't hold it against them. They didn't come to Minda-4 looking to be mercenaries. Mining may toughen you up, but it doesn't do anything for your aim."

Tak knew joining the Pailers wasn't any of her recruits' first choice. She didn't blame them for that. Even then it still hurt to hear it said out loud that they were the backup plan of the backup plan. Most people arrive on Minda-4 to work in small mining operations run by companies that were either too small or poor to afford the starships or higher end mining equipment needed to work in richer places like Ugea, Minda-1, or the asteroids.

Dewback Diggers Mining Company only had about 700 permanent residents in their mining settlement. That might not sound like much on most worlds, but for a planet as barren as Minda-4 that made it the biggest town in the region. The place was a product of the pension of some elderly and unremarkable Imperial Army veteran who never hooked up, but still wanted to leave a legacy. Even the local Guild office was just one sentient and some low end droids in a back room.

"Desperation does not equal competence, I get it. Still wish they could hit the broad side of an AT-AT. We can't have our company made up of entirely melee troops. No matter how happy that would make you."

As a result of being the "big town" in the region, this made it the place to go whenever yet another operation or company went bust. Recently unemployed miners and workers would inevitably congregate to this settlement. Either to look for work in another mine or book a passage off planet with one of the freighters or ore haulers coming to clear out the planet's built up stockpiles.

In other words, a perfect recruiting ground for a mercenary company with next to no reputation. The Old Vet that runs this place welcomed their recruitment efforts with open arms. Probably due to feeling safer with people standing around with blasters gainfully employed and guarding things rather than standing around with blasters unemployed and getting desperate.

This region hadn't even been settled long enough for proper bandit clans to find their feet and begin picking off or picking up folks yet. Still the occasional lunatic or outlaw in the outskirts. However, without a proper set up to keep fed and watered they died out too quick for someone to post a bounty. The most violence you would get paid for is hunting critters that developed a taste for sentients.

"Cheer up Tak. You got us a great deal on this HQ and secured our very first long term contract for the Mynock Pailers. You're doing great."

That at least brought up Tak's mood. The Old Vet had expanded too fast. He had neglected to form a robust security division, unconsciously assuming his miners were like his old soldiers and could take care of themselves. Ignoring the fact most civilians tended to panic when blasters get pulled out. That let Tak negotiate a great deal on this building, a fairly generous security contract for the rest of the year, and a good discount at the Diggers General Store.

"Now if only I could give them more than mining gear and sporting blasters. Shame Diggers was so stingy with the blaststicks."

The "standard uniform" for a Mynock Pailer these days was a CT Helmet and CV Vest, same as the miners got. Some of the recruits even brought their own from their old jobs as part of their "severance package". They had to paint it in the Pailers' colors so they wouldn't get mistaken for a worker.

At least the Old Vet thought enough ahead to get a relatively sizable stock of blasters to be issued to his mining crews in case of griblies or pirates. Unfortunately they were SKZs, which were decent for unarmored opponents, but failed at penetrating like a military model. As a silver lining they were easy to use, easy to maintain, and good for training.

"They'll get better, just you watch. Soon we'll be shooting off in the M.P. Hurt Wagon to parts unknown to blast things."

She really shouldn't have let Garik name their ship, but she couldn't say no to those pup eyes. It still felt nice to think that they had their own ship now. The BR-23 courier they had gotten for cheap could fit over a dozen people semi-comfortably, rather than the cramped 40 the standard was. Although the Wagon is still a bit under gunned, so they had to stick to well patrolled routes to avoid getting blasted.

"Currently all our company is good for is patrolling empty streets and breaking up bar fights. I'd settle for some hunting contracts for the beasts prowling about. Give the chance to blood the recruits on someone non-sentient."

We would be using the sporting blasters for their intended purpose so the equipment will be sufficient for the task. The recruits could be introduced to combat in a tamer form. She doesn't want to coddle them, but it is probably be better than having their first life and death battle be against other people.

Would need to cover a lot of ground area, which means dedicated land transport. Companies going bust also means equipment and vehicles should be available. Wasn't there a Skrilling with a FMR-385 cargo speeder for sale over on the east side?

"There's the Mynock Pailers' star administrator! Give it some time and you'll have those mining settlements eating out of the palm of your hands. Now come on down, the recruits are playing Sabacc and I want you to see you clean them out of their paychecks."

Garik always knew how to get Tak out of her funks. Getting her to focus on the progress they could make rather than the obstacles in front of them. She said the two of them would be climbing the Guild ladder, and by the void they are on their way.

"Alright let's thrash these rookies so hard it gets me banned from game night!"

Look out galaxy, the Head of Administration of the Mynock Pailers is coming! First Minda-4, then the whole Minda system!

——
A potential look at the rarely talked about fourth planet in the Minda system. Only really noted for its mining operations and being a barren desert, but at least it has rings. Not really that fitting for the large er… medium scale Las is working with these days.

Figured the planet was as good a setting as any to continue the Garik and Tak storyline. The more things change, the more things stay the same. At least Tak and Garik have a posse instead of a duo to patrol this here frontier town.

Crossposted on SB and SV

 

[Yacov]

Omake: The Guild 650 Starflier

Production Information

Manufacturer: Guild of Commerce, Production and Protection

Model: Guild 650 Starflier Civilian Shuttle

Type:
Official: Shuttle
Unofficial: "Shuttle"

Cost:
85,000 Credits new
120,000 Credits with "Fighting Star" modification package

——

Technical Specifications

Maximum Atmospheric Speed:
New: 750 km/h
"Fighting Star": 900 km/h

Engine unit(s):
New: one off the shelf ion drive
"Fighting Star": one R303 Ion Jet Engine and additional maneuver thrusters

Hyperdrive:
New: None
"Fighting Star": yes, often a Avatar-10 Class 2 Hyperdrive

Shielding:
New: None
"Fighting Star": mediocre deflector shield generator

Power: fusion reactor

Hull: titanium hull

Sensors: short range sensors

Armament: 3 front facing weapon mounts
New: 2 light laser cannons
"Fighting Star": 2 medium laser cannons and 1 medium ion cannon

Crew: 1 (pilot)

Cargo Capacity: 25 tons. 24.7 tons OCCL rated. 24.5 tons used in the standard "Fighting Star" modification package.

Life Support: Equipped

Consumables: 3 days standard

Other Systems:

"Fighting Star" modifications:

Chaff Dispenser
Reinforced Cockpit

Other common modifications:

Space Mine Layer
Dumb Fire Bomb Bay
Wing Mounted Missile Racks
Rear Manned Turret
Tug Rated Tractor Beam

——

Usage

Availability:

• Civilian issue

Role:

• Short distance cargo shuttle
• Easy to legally own small starship that just so happens to be passable at fighting in the stars.

Affiliation:

• The Guild
• Mercenaries
• Private Citizens
• Independent Groups
• Merchant Companies

——

Description

"What's that one?"
"That's a 650 Starflier. The Guild came out with it last year."
"Really, because it feels like I have seen it before decades ago." - a pair of shipwatchers seeing a Starflier for the first time.

If there were two words that could be used to describe the 650 Starflier it would be "generic" and "workable". Developed by the Guild after the Battle of Yavin, this shuttle quietly slipped past Imperial regulators with minimal fanfare or inspection. A decision the initial review board might be kicking themselves for to this very day.

The 650 Starflier enjoys a robust aftermarket of modifications catered to by owners, part companies, and the Guild itself. The wide array of customization appeals to citizens and Guild members alike who enjoy tailoring their personal vehicles to their own preferences.

Design

"So you took an ATT, stripped off the skirt, then slapped a pair of wings and an ion drive on the back. Congratulations I hate it." - Imperial Procurement Officer upon receiving the design from the Guild marketing department.

The design philosophy for the 650 Starflier followed the maxims of simplicity and ease of manufacture. The main body was given a diagonal teardrop shape with two wings on the jutting out from the top back along with the Starflier's single ion drive.

For armaments the Starflier has three front facing weapon mounts. Two on the sides and one near the chin on the bottom. This is despite the production model only coming the two light laser cannons.

What the 650 Starflier lacks in outward charm, it more than makes up for in "useful" storage space. The ship's Open Concept Component Layout allows for ease of installation of new systems and upgrading old ones into a ship capable of jumping to hyperspace and defending itself against other small ships.

The process is so easy that some theorize that the 650 Starflier is initially manufactured with components like a hyperdrive, shield generator, and other combat oriented components already installed. The components were then removed in order to meet the legal requirements for the shuttle designation. The Guild strenuously denies these claims, although never strenuously enough to sue and be forced to offer proof in court.

Manufactured primarily from generic, off brand, and off the shelf parts, the Starflier enjoyed very little maintenance and repair difficulties. One could easily fix most of the issues and damages in the unmodified Starflier ended up with at a Limited Services Level Spaceport at minimum. With anything more serious being able to be done at a Standard Class starport or better. A Starflier could theoretically operate away from urbanized planets for extended periods of time as long as supplies and maintenance remained plentiful and frequent.

Performance

"Listen buddy, you don't buy Starfliers because they are the best thing on the market. You buy Starfliers because you can purchase them legally and quickly without getting an Imperial Inspector breathing down your neck." - Head of Procurement for a Guild Merchant Company when asked why he just put in an order for two dozen Starfliers.

The 650 Starflier is publicized as a cheap and reliable shuttle for the general consumer. In this respect it checked all the boxes. However, the Starflier had to compete with hundreds of other designs that promise the exact same thing. Some having far larger ship building corporations backing them. So it was never going to become a well known name for its marketed purpose.

It was seen as inevitable that the 650 Starflier would become known for its modified variants over the production model. Performance wise, the Starflier "Fighting Star" and other combat oriented variants were rated as a lesser midpoint between the TIE and the X-wing. The ship failed to equal or sometimes even compete with either in their respective strengths. This was especially the case when it came to speed, arguably the Starflier's poorest performing quality, due to limited space for engines. Choosing to focus on not using military grade components and modularity led to a ship that was overall mediocre to below average in combat for its size when compared with most modern military models.

Efforts were made by users and modifiers to give the 650 Starflier an edge. The "Fighting Star" came with what some would consider an excessive amount of maneuvering thrusters as well as extra padding and safety features in the cockpit. This allowed the Starflier to be surprisingly agile and maneuverable despite what its relatively bulky appearance would suggest. However few could deny that instead of sinking money into making the Starflier the best in the battlefield, it was cheaper and easier to just buy a dedicated combat starship.

This report suited the makers of the 650 Starflier just fine. The ship was never intended to be the best ship in a battlefield. Any well-maintained military grade ship with a competent pilot was expected to beat the 650 Starflier one on one. Rather the designers were aiming to be the ship that was the comparatively easiest to acquire and maintain at a high condition.

The favored mission the 650 Starflier combat variants were designed to go up against was fighting Uglies and other poorly maintained or jury rigged pirate ships attempting to raid convoys or fixed installations. The hope was the Starflier's ability to almost always operate at its best would be its main advantage against raiders who lacked the ability to keep their ships in good shape and thus suffer performance issues. The ship may run into problems with the "elite" forces of larger and more powerful criminal syndicates with their own supply lines, but for the more common pirate the design theory was deemed sound enough for production.

Reception

"Sir I assure you we only sell system shuttles at this location. Now on an unrelated note if you scroll to the next page of our catalog you will find a very nice deal on some Hyperdrives that just came in last month." - Guild starship salesperson when asked about the 650 Starflier's capabilities.

When the 650 Starflier came on the market it was met with mild interest from the Myto Sector. The Imperial Military was completely turned off by the design. Large companies already had procurement contracts with large starship companies. The OCCL was seen as novel, but nothing to change direction over.

Where the 650 Starflier found its niche was in the smaller players in the sector. Low ranking Guild mercenaries found the Starflier to be an affordable and low maintenance starter option for taking their operations into offworld. The cost, ease of installing upgrades, and proximity to the main production facilities meant there was always a demand floor for Starfliers by the more combat focused groups in Guild space.

Merchant companies appreciated the 650 Starflier for the versatility it gave their shipping convoys. On more peaceful routes they could assist with the transferring of cargo. While on more dangerous routes they could be easily militarized to provide security. Plenty of convoys could be seen sporting small swarms of "shuttle wings" around the Myto sector. For smaller budget minded companies, one ship that could perform two different jobs well enough was seen as preferable to investing in separate specialized ships.

Imperial Inspectors came to hate the 650 Starflier. The shuttle designation and straddling the line between transport and combat ship aggravated many an Inspector. They would arrive at a hanger expecting to find a plethora of combat ships, only for a tip off to result in them getting chewed by the superior after wasting time harassing "some harmless lightly armed shuttles".

Imperial Governors and the Imperial military generally ignored the 650 Starflier. The design was unappealing and its performance was seen as an ineffectual compromise when compared to their TIEs. Faith in the current laws and regulations against owning heavy starship armaments and military sublight engines assuaged most worries of the Starflier becoming a threat to their forces.

Conclusion

The 650 Starflier is not a ship with flare. It is not trying to impress anyone in any sense or metric. No one with more than a dozen hours behind a cockpit is going to be excited to fly a Starflier. However, they will be able to work with the Starflier in almost any reasonable circumstance or mission profile.

Because the Starflier is designed to be a workhorse of any spacefaring organization. It is a draft animal that occasionally has a saddle thrown on its back and ridden into battle. It will try its best at what people are trying to get it to do whether that is being a transport shuttle, a courier, a tug, a convoy escort, or even a bomber. The Starflier is a ship designed for potential that gives people a chance to attempt almost anything with it and have the possibility of succeeding.

——

This time on Guild Legal Definition Dodging: the 650 Starflier. Aftermarket Upgrade Incarnate while still keeping it to legally acquirable parts for civilians. Something that is definitely a shuttle, and not that other "s-word" that would lead to a lot more legal trouble for the manufacturers and paperwork and costs for the owners. Just a regular ship with no legally questionable collective incentives to lie about or obfuscate its capabilities.

The design was basically ripped wholesale from the CTE 750 AE Civilian Starflier, the beginner ship from the 2003 Sci-fi game Freelancer. Found an old playthrough on YouTube and loved the minimalist design. Figured the design would work as a grunt ship for the Guild given its quasi-civilian nature and decentralized command structure. A few dozen systems under a faction's influence is enough to warrant a signature ship in my opinion.

Crossposted on SB and SV

 

[Orphiex]

Omake! Crossposting this from SB; a contribution to the Minda-2 uplift program, in two parts. Seemed to me that the Guild was already set up to take newbie workers and help them turn themselves into professional economic contributors, so why would Las or Darna go reinventing the wheel?

------

Omake: The Working Vern's Road to Space

Kor
Erylon, capital city of the Fulcrum Dynasty
Minda System, Minda-2

"Emm-pie-yerr…"

Kor wanted to go into space.

It had always been a dream of his. Ever since he'd been a boy, there had been nights where he looked up at the stars and dreamed of flying among them, free as the proverbial bird. For most people, the dream was about the flying, and they aimed towards becoming lufsk riders, or at least getting a lufsk rider to give them a lift so they could experience it once, but for Kor it had always been about the stars. Wondering about what marvels might be out there.

But of course, it had never been anything more than a daydream. Everyone knew that there was the ground down here, and the heavens up there, and the twixt would never become twain, and a man had to be practical if he wanted to eat. And so Kor had knuckled down, worked hard, and earned a decent wage for a decent day's work. He'd been saving up money, looking to find a girl worth marrying, and preparing to follow a solid and steady course into the future.

"Fuh-leet… kraz. Fff-leet. Fleet."

And then the Imperials had come. And, holy zoon, aliens! Real aliens! And real spaceships! And, you know, space! People could go to space! People could come back from space! Alive, even! You could go to space!

He could go to space! Him! Little ol' Kor could go to SPACE!!!

And sure, it was definitely kind of weird to think that their rulers weren't, you know, at the very tippy-top anymore, but meh. Kor hadn't been high nobility or anything, just lucky enough to live in the capital and earn a decent wage for a decent day's work, and from where he was sitting? Nothing much had changed on a day-to-day basis. The Imperials had built a few schools to teach the children their numbers, that alien "Basic" language and how to use their foreign tools, but the markets still had the same produce and tools and gewgaws at mostly the same prices, and the soldiers on the streets were still wearing Dynasty colors and not that Imperial black-and-white. The vern at the top might be chafing, but down here in the streets life went on.

"Guh-verr-norr."

Kor could have kept doing what he'd been doing. Kept living in the capital, kept earning a decent wage for a decent day's work.

But Kor wanted to go into space.

Kor wanted to go into space so bad.

Which was where the Guild came in.

"Hyy-perr-speiss."

See, there were basically three ways to get a ride on a spaceship right now: be rich and/or connected, sign up at one of those Imperial recruiting stations, or join up with some different outfit that had access to a spaceship. That sort of money was beyond Kor at the moment, and he was… leery about signing on for who knows how long with their new lords and masters. Especially since you'd have to go through a whole lot of training anyway, and who knew how much it'd pay.

But the Guild…

There'd been these flyers, see. Not that he'd been able to read them, him not being all lettered and such, but he'd taken one of them to Jevvo who he knew could read it, and Jevvo had read it to him, and then they'd both ran over to the Guild building and signed up, because that offer? It sounded pretty good.

"Imm-pee-ree-yull."

Do the studies. Five classes - that alien Basic language (including reading and writing! How about that), numbers and sums, how the Empire works, the basics of your chosen field (mining, trading or merc'ing), and one of those specializations in your field. And if you pass all your courses, you're in. You get a card, a bank account (him! Kor! With a bank account! How hoity-toity was that!), and a selection of starter gear depending on your track and specializations, and off you go to make your fortune.

And sure, you run up a debt in that bank account, which you gotta pay back or else. So what? Even if Kor hadn't really really wanted to go to space, it was pretty obvious that the aliens were here to stay. You don't throw up big fancy buildings like the Guild's city headquarters if you weren't settling in for the long haul. The literacy classes alone were worth going into debt for; a vern who could deal straight with aliens would have plenty of opportunities. Sometimes you had to take a risk.

The trick is to take smart risks, not dumb ones. He'd heard a couple of numbnuts muttering about selling their gear for the local gold after they graduated, and ducking out to some other town far away from the Guild where they'd live like princes.

"Juss-tiss."

More fools they. The Guild was training mercenaries. There'd be plenty of their classmates who'd be perfectly happy to take on a few debt collection jobs, especially if it cleared their own debts in the process. And if someone was fool enough to let their gear get stolen out from under them? This wasn't just gear, it wasn't even a ticket to a better life, it was the future of their world writ small, and Kor knew that they'd have to pry that kit from his cold dead hands. Because Kor had a plan.

Well, it wasn't just his plan. It was also Jevvo's, and Nark's, and Davyr's and… yeah, you get the idea, and the teachers had been very helpful when they'd gone and asked about it. 'Cause, one miner couldn't do a whole lot, even with the alien gear. Two miners couldn't do a whole lot. But ten? Twenty? So yeah, they were teaming up. Companying up? Whatever. A Cooperative. With some guys from each of the specialization tracks, so that they knew what's what and didn't find out at the dig site that there was something they needed and didn't have. And Jevvo was forming a starter Collective, to handle all the transporting and selling of the ore the Cooperative dug up, and Vemik over in the merc track was getting people together into a Conclave to run protection on the dig site and the caravan and everything. What do you call it when you've got all three of those "Co" words grouping together? Kor made a mental note to ask the Basic teacher later.

"K- Kh- Kraz it, that's enough for now."

They'd have to figure out how to handle profits and such, obviously; who gets paid what? How much risk for how much reward? Yadda yadda yadda. Because nobody knew. Sure, the trader track guys were probably getting trained special for that stuff, but who didn't know how to haggle and dicker? And those numbers courses were clearing up a lot of stuff that Kor had always sorta felt but not known known. But everyone agreed (or had been made to agree) that even with the Guild's records and precedents to work off of, trying to accurately settle up rates and splits when they were all know-nothing rookies was a recipe for a bad time.

Nah, the rule they'd worked out for the time being was simple: everyone eats well, and nobody gets paid in cash until all of the debt is settled. After that? Well, they'd have to work it out, but they'd be working it out with a whole lot more experience and training time and a proven record of having completed however many jobs. But you know what that wasn't? His problem! Not to say that he wouldn't fight to get the best deal he could, because his momma didn't raise no fool, but Kor's part in the plan didn't include sticking around forever, because those offworld Companies?

They were hiring.

"Okay, sums next! Now what's this one… 31 x 47 is…"

Kor had checked with the desk jockeys at the Guild, and there were a lot, a lot of companies looking to fill a hole or two in their ranks, but they all needed a minimum level of training and experience that no vern had yet. But they would. And when they did, the Companies would split a bit, some people staying here on Verndar to earn money and recruit from the next round of students, and some of them signing on with those alien groups to go out into the black and get experience! Obviously the end goal was to start buying spaceships and start working the big jobs, and Kor was all for that - he wanted his own ship so much he could taste it - but in the meantime, little ol' Kor would be travelling through space!

SPACE!

Spa~aaaaace~

------

A/N: At this lowest level, I think the triple-Co word we're looking for here is Combine.

Second entry is from the perspective of the top looking down, rather than the bottom looking up.

 

[Orphiex]

Second entry! This one fought me a bit as I got closer to the end, but I think I came up with a good way to close it off. We now see how the high and mighty are responding.

------

Omake: The Noble Vern's Path to Power

Grantier Zulkhies
Erylon, capital city of the Fulcrum Dynasty
Minda System, Minda-2

"So. How bad is it?"

Grantier Zulkhies, Minister of the Exchequer for the Fulcrum Dynasty, took a moment to school his features and steel his spine before addressing King Limarkos, his heir the Archduchess, and the assembled Ministers of the Privy Council. Not that the news was all bad - in fact, it was approaching good - but because the decisions made here would shape the Dynasty for centuries to come.

"The Imperial Quota - or Tax, or whatever they wish to call it - is substantial, but… the situation continues to change so rapidly that there is no one clear answer to that question. With your permission, Your Majesty, I would like to give a full overview of the current situation."

King Limarkos gave a brief nod; Grantier took this as permission to continue.

"First, I must emphasize that the Quota is levied upon all of Verndar collectively, not just the Dynasty. In theory, we could get away without contributing to the Quota at all; in practice, were every political entity on Verndar to do this, the Quota would go unpaid and resolution of the issue would fall to the Imperial Navy."

There was a minor flinch throughout the room. While only the Archduchess and her entourage had been present at the original meeting with the Governor, the tale of Mount Zuji's bombardment had made the rounds. Only the most foolish or delusional still thought that the ability of the Imperial Navy to destroy their nation was overstated. With that reminder setting the tone, Grantier forged forwards.

"Fortunately, the Imperials themselves are aware of this; furthermore, the Governor - or his staff - seem to understand that while the various nation-states of Verndar have wildly different levels of productivity, there is no way to apportion the Quota accurately among them. At least, not without some sort of planetary audit that would be far more trouble than it's worth. Which is why they've implemented a 'points' system."

Grantier reached out and tapped a button on the device before him, activating the slide projector that he'd negotiated for with one of the Imperial representatives. He wasn't fluid enough in Basic to use one of their PDAs (yet), but the concept behind the projector was easily grasped by anyone who'd ever seen shadow puppets. The first slide showed a table listing some of the nations of Verndar - with the Dynasty at the top, obviously - and numbers next to them.

"As groups contribute to the Quota, be they tribes or kingdoms, they earn points. Once the Quota is filled, the points can then be used to acquire resources, tools and other assets in addition to those available under the uplift program. Whoever contributes more, or contributes above the minimum threshold of the Quota, can get more, whether that be resources that would be difficult to acquire on the open market, or things like… priority. Deliveries ahead of other countries of Verndar."

There was a susurrus of whispers and shifting around the room. The idea of getting ahead of, say, those militant tossers in the Obsidian Wardenship? It was tempting. Seductive in a way that money alone couldn't quite match. Clearly the Governor knew how to play the incentives game, Grantier thought.

"This is complicated by several factors. Firstly, by just how many groups there are." Grantier flipped to the next slide, this one a much, much longer of all the polities on Verndar. Including all the pokey little jungle tribes, many of which nobody had known or cared about until the Empire dug them up and gave their ultimatum. "All of these groups are not only contributing to the Quota, but many of them are dealing with a… leadership reassignment at the same time as a fundamental worldview shift. And every one of them has at least one PDA with access to the Imperial communications network. Which means that they can talk to each other whenever, wherever, they want. The political ramifications of this… we may end up with a jungle tribes coalition like the Saveeri Alignment." Everyone winced again; the Verdant Horde's invasion centuries ago had broken the back of the Dhloaz Empire, and nobody wanted a repeat. "Or the tribes might dissolve entirely and end up being absorbed into the Volcanic Territories. We just don't know.

"But the second, and far more immediate complication, is the influence of the Imperial Guild of Industry, Commerce and Protection." Grantier flipped to the next slide, this one showing a breakdown of the Guild's basic structure. "For those unaware, the Guild organizes and certifies miners, merchants and mercenaries in the Governor's territory. This includes training and ready access to related equipment. As part of the uplift program, Governor Mola has licensed the Guild to train and educate adults, separately from the childrens' schools operated by the Imperial government."

Grantier flipped to the next slide, this one showing a picture of the Imperial enclave that had subsumed the western slums. The landing fields, transshipment warehouses and Guild complex sprawled across the former slumlands. Grantier knew the King was displeased about ceding any amount of capital land to the outlanders, but property values on that side of the city had definitely gone up.

Although he couldn't for the life of him understand why they'd bothered to throw up those boxy buildings for the rabble to inhabit. What possible worth could they get from housing those wastes of breath, and at their own expense?

"The Guild branch here in the capital - and, presumably, the branches in other countries - have established training and education courses, that are open to all and sundry on a 'first come, first served' basis. As long as someone is not obviously a criminal or a maniac, they can enroll." Advance the slides to a Guild flier printed in the Dynasty's language. "To summarize what this flyer says, if an attendee completes a course of study in their chosen field, including at least one 'specialization'-" Transition to the list of Guild Specializations. "-then the Guild will provide them with equipment relevant to their field and specialization, as a loan. To be repaid in Imperial Credits."

King Limarkos frowned. "These debts. Are they coercive?"

"Not that I can tell, Sire. Some items are more expensive than others, but assuming the prices I have compared are accurate, the Guild seems to be selling at cost, and demanding no interest. However, that the loans must be repaid in Credits means that the graduates must work for pay in credits. Credits paid into a bank account, set up for them by the Guild. And once they're being paid in Credits…"

The rustling this time had different undertones of discomfort. The Dynasty had banks, of course, they were a civilized nation, but… for the powerful. The wealthy. The influential. The idea of the unwashed masses having their own accounts… it rankled somehow, even to Grantier, though he couldn't exactly articulate why.

"This is why many of them promptly start accepting Guild-posted contracts and using Guild-provided services, rather than going to the houses and the mercantile companies for work. Even so, the sheer productivity enabled by Guild-provided tools and training… all of my bureau's economic projections are effectively useless for the foreseeable future."

Grantier switched to another slide, showing a table of the Guild's ranking system. Wonderful things, these graphing tools. "A Scout with a blaster and basic training could go up against a small pack of jungle syzoks and have even odds of victory, and that only escalates as they organize into Conclaves. A Prospector-Cooperative can locate, excavate and sell more ore than a conventional mining group ten times their size. And a Trader-Collective with a dozen hover-pallets can move more than a full caravan. In short, while meeting the Quota would be onerous under past conditions, productivity is only going to keep rising, and there's no telling where it will end."

"And yet, you speak as if this is a problem."

"The problem, Sire, is that the Dynasty's own organizations and institutions cannot keep up." Grantier gestured to the table behind him. "The noble houses, guilds and trading costers have been slow to catch on, but once the first wave of graduates came out of the Guild's programs, almost all of them commoners…" Grantier flipped to another chart. "There are very few independents. Most graduates have formed their own Companies under the Imperial Guild, combining their specializations and equipment to fill as many roles as possible. I suspect that the Guild encouraged and supported them in doing so. The remainder mostly signed on piecemeal with the aforementioned bodies, who soon realized just how badly disadvantaged they now were, and once they figured that out…

"There have been incidents. While the smarter entities are forging contracts with newly-emerging Companies, some of the more stubborn and entitled noble houses are attempting to forcibly break these 'commoner companies' up and compel them into their own service, through means both legal and… not. Others are trying to intimidate the Guild into restricting access to their training courses, or shutting them down altogether. It is going… poorly for them. Even if the Guild didn't have the ability to call in the Imperial military - which it very much does - it's a mercenary guild. Things have not yet escalated to the level of blasterfire, but I suspect that there will be a major incident in the near future if the Dynasty does not step in beforehand."

"So. They are sabotaging us."

Grantier resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck. "Not as such, Your Majesty. To be clear, this is not the product of malice, or even incompetence, but of indifference. Perhaps if I play this recording…?"

———

Three weeks ago

Grantier Zulkhies, Minister of the Exchequer for the Fulcrum Dynasty, towered over Guild Administrator Zavef by a head. Administrator Zavef was doing a remarkably good job, even across the divides of both culture and species, of being visibly unimpressed.

"The Imperial Guild's uplift charter for Verndar is very explicit in the duties and responsibilities of the Guild. The Guild, as per directives from Governor Mola, is to support and enhance the uplift program of Minda-2 by introducing new training and tools to the native inhabitants of the planet, thereby increasing the productivity of the planet, better enabling the local inhabitants to more efficiently meet their Quota duties, and preparing the citizenry for inclusion into the wider galactic economy. It is not the Guild's responsibility to prop up the local satrapy."

"Are you saying that you will do nothing to curtail these disruptive influences upon the Fulcrum Dynasty? That you care nothing for the effects that putting extraterrestrial weapons and equipment in the hands of the masses will cause!?"

"I am saying, Minister, that the Guild's initiatives are open to all citizens of Minda-2, including the agents and representatives of the Fulcrum Dynasty and its government. If the Dynasty does not wish to avail itself of those opportunities? That sounds like a you problem."

———

Grantier switched the recording off. King Limarkos's expression was dark, but Grantier had seen him blueing with thunderous rage, and this wasn't that.

Archduchess Limali slowly tapped the table with her manicured digits. "This seems strange to me. Governor Mola stated clearly at our first meeting that he had no desire to overly interfere with the politics of Verndar's nations."

Grantier nodded. "As I said, indifference. I have reviewed the recordings of said meeting that the Governor distributed to the attendees, and while Governor Mola expressed a desire to avoid overruling or forcibly dissolving existing governments, he said nothing about wanting to preserve them. What seems clear from the recordings, especially his… blasé acknowledgement that the Empire could have him executed and replaced for failure, is that in the Empire, one is expected to succeed or fail on their own merits. If the Dynasty cannot succeed?" He let the statement hang in the air for a moment. "Nothing here represents a breach of the uplift accords, while also fulfilling what we believe to be Governor Mola's current objectives."

"What objectives are those?" asked Minister for War Zoriasque, leaning forward.

"Based on the information Minister Delavin has received from our agents," he nodded at the Minister of Information, "Governor Mola's territory seems to be suffering from a severe lack of manpower and trained personnel. Some sort of extremely large project that is important to Governor Mola's superiors in the Empire. Low-skill workers across the region are undergoing similar training and taking on higher-paid work, causing knock-on effects across their supply chains.

"In short, the Guild is trying to train up a new workforce to replace those low-skill workers. Once our people have received enough training and accrued enough experience, my belief is that the various Companies on Minda-3 will start hiring them away to work for them off-world."

King Limarkos frowned. "They mean to entice our people away from the Dynasty? Well, that-" He stopped, a calculative look coming over his face. Grantier smiled internally; he'd known that his monarch would see the potential here.

"That… would allow us to slip our own people into the off-worlders' operations," Archduchess Limali slowly stated, her own features showing deep thought. "Agents who can acquire and funnel resources back into our hands. Materiel, information, even more of the Empire's credits."

"Thus allowing us to gain an understanding of what we truly face, independent from the Empire's obvious propaganda, and improve our own negotiating power at the same time," Limarkos mused. "Delavin, how feasible is this?"

Minister Delavin stood. "Frankly, Sire, we've already made first steps, slipping some of our intelligencers into the Guild's training sessions to see what we're up against. The Guild doesn't seem to do any sort of background checks or investigations, they just run basic tests of whether they're physically and mentally unimpaired before shoving them into classrooms. Of course, once they're in the Imperials' records - and the Imperials are inveterate record-keepers - things probably become more stringent. However, I have confidence in our agents' ability to be discreet. As for acquisitions… Minister Grantier?"

Grantier clicked through a few more slides, arriving at a price-list for products available through Guild-certified merchants. "While the terms of the uplift agreement are quite clear, and the lists of proscribed items and substances under Imperial law are explicitly defined… in practice, we are no more subject to trade restrictions or import tariffs than any other region in the Governor's territory. Anything that an offworlder alien can legally buy, we can legally buy. As long as we have the credits to pay for them, that is.

"Of course, any trade right now is hugely in the offworlders' favor; even if we assume that the figures and market prices available through the Guild are accurate, the offworlders have all the ships, and we are not a credit-using economy yet. The uplift agreements offer us a limited amount of funds, but only for circumscribed, uplift-appropriate uses. We need our own sources of credits before we can acquire market-available materiel without being held hostage to the whims of smugglers.

"And when it comes to skill development, there's a bottleneck. Part of the reason that the Guild refused to open further training for the noble houses is that their training programs are running at capacity; this labor shortage is affecting them as well. They're effectively 'booked up' for the next six months in all tracks, and they're unwilling to remove any existing bookings for anyone, even the Dynasty itself.

"However. Registering a Company through the Guild is… unneccessary; what matters is the ability to extract resources competitively. The courses, too, are not the obstacle they seem. While Guild accreditations are useful and valuable, the tests needed to acquire them can be taken without passing through the training available to the hoi-polloi. We are the Dynasty. We are not without our own means; if the current bottleneck is the availability of Guild trainers, we can afford to hire our own.

"Administrator Zavef can cling to her precious charter as much as she wants, but that same adherence means that if the Dynasty decides to recruit our own trainers through the Guild's employment network, she has no legal recourse to obstruct us from doing so. And recruitment of trainers is covered by the terms of the uplift program."

…which meant that the Dynasty government, as the only ones allowed to use those funds, could offer the credits that the other noble houses didn't have, Grantier didn't say. By securing control of the best non-Guild training methods, His Majesty could pick and choose which noble houses got access to those trainers, thus regaining some of the political capital lost by capitulating to the Empire. He knew that the King would pick up on it, and hoped that the Archduchess had seen it.

And of course, Grantier planned to capitalize.

Grantier had lied about nothing. The plethora of market shifts right now had indeed thrown all his old calculations out the window… but his ability to make new ones had only improved. Especially with these new PDAs; he was still working on learning Basic and officially couldn't make use of any of the provided ones, but the Guild had developed complete translation packages in order to train the riffraff. Grantier'd taken one provided as part of the uplift program and gotten it updated at the Guild to display the Dynasty's language, something that it seemed everyone else had forgotten to do (probably just lost in the bureaucratic shuffle), and he had been devouring the economic and mathematical modules. Market fluctuation, projective graphing, inflation and deflation predictors… and the spreadsheets. Ohh, the spreadsheets. What a difference those made to his calculations.

And those projections said… that the only reason the Dynasty still had a functioning economy was because the Empire was deliberately keeping its own companies out of Verndar. That and the lack of credits. A mid-range offworld mercantile concern could flood the local markets with more cheap metal ore in one day than all the mines of the noble houses could generate in a local year, crash the economy in a week, then buy up whatever they wanted for scraps.

He'd have to be careful and explain this over time - nobody in the room wanted to hear that mere merchants could threaten the nation - but the facts were the facts. The Dynasty was outmatched not only militarily, but economically. Uplift was the only chance the Dynasty had to be a player, not a pawn. Now he had to work the King and the Council around to thinking it was all their own idea, and this stage seemed to be going well so far.

And House Zulkhies? Grantier intended to make sure that when the dust settled, the House ended up with enough money and wealth to be kingmakers, not just functionaries. Not to say that he was disloyal, but his loyalties were to his nation more than his King. Jockeying for power was just how the Great Game was played. There'd never be a greater opportunity than this, not when he sat at the perfect confluence of knowledge, influence and connections.

Starting his own corporations, trading favors, manipulating the flow of uplift currency and resources to subtly expand his power base… nothing so gauche as embezzlement, he had his pride, but a vern in his position was almost expected to take advantage of having the inside line on the flow of money, within reason. He'd also figured out how to track the usage records of the PDAs, and nobody was taking advantage of their abilities anywhere near the degree that he was. Maybe they hadn't realized the sheer potential in them, or were being stubborn about not learning Basic; either way, Grantier wasn't planning to hand out hints anytime soon. There was so very much opportunity to be seized, and Grantier Zulkhies was perfectly positioned to do so.

Let the rabble play at building their Companies. Soon enough, Grantier would have control of them all, and then? Well, they used to say the sky's the limit, but not anymore.

———

A/N: Grantier is a smart and canny noble, because you don't get to control the Royal Treasury if you can't cut it, but his prejudices are definitely showing. He's going to do well for himself, but not nearly as well as he expects to: even if the Guild itself wasn't an anti-trust institution, really determined commonfolk with a little education and a leg up are far more capable than the mindless troglodytes he thinks of them as.

He's also misinterpreting Zavef; she's short with him because, like Las, she's got enough paperwork to deal with right now without getting any more involved in the native politics than she needs to, and strict adherence to the charter is her shield. If the local satraps are willing to take some of those uplift responsibilities off her hands? She might just kiss them, even if they are green and stupidly tall.

Building residences for the slum-dwellers might seem like overdoing it, but Las and Darna are smart enough to think in the long-term; it builds goodwill and advertises the benefits of collaboration with the Imperial machine. "Give me your tired, your poor, your hungry" and all that. Besides, they're really just row upon row of cheap pre-fabs; a close analogue would be China's rapid-built COVID quarantine centers. Cheap as chips, and worse than student housing, but to the slum-dwellers of a medieval city? Unimaginable luxury.

TBH, I'm not sure if I'm going to take this any further; I've kinda written what I want to write. Maybe inspiration will strike in the future, where I get an idea that fires me up to write about the effects on Verndari international politics or a bit of Zavef's perspective or how the jungle tribes are reacting, or something. I do actually have one idea for a third entry, so maybe.