Chp-106
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Chp-106
Darna Sabrir
Minda
HAVEN had grown significantly since its inception, and as a result Darna found herself with far more to do than before.
She'd known from the beginning that this endeavor would be difficult. It would be stressful. It would consume her life. But at the time, it'd been a distant idea.
Now she was living its reality.
Every day was one in which a little voice rang out in the back of her mind.
What if today's the day it all comes crashing down.
If she was to be honest, it was her one true fear. Every other possibility, from torture to death and worse were things she was scared of, sure. But none of them held within her that same, bone deep fear of losing what she'd built.
Every now and again, when her actions and orders made her feel distant from the people they were meant to protect, she took a walk. Out she went, disguised of course, to simply walk the streets of Accordia.
It was refreshing, in a way, to have visible proof of her actions meaning something. Her time in the Rebellion had been action packed and full of speeches and bravado, but rarely did it feel as though she was making a difference.
It always felt like she was just fighting a dying giant. She knew, instinctively, that the Rebels would win in one form or another. If not this Rebellion, then another one down the line. An oppressive government simply wouldn't last.
But the Rebellion felt disconnected to her. Distant, fighting for a cause, for a people that rarely seemed to like them. Sure, nowadays that might've changed but her memories of the Rebellion will always be marred by scared civilians yelling at them to leave, lest the Empire turn them into ash for merely being near them.
Here, in the Myto sector, she could build something. A place of real peace and prosperity. Ready and waiting so that when the Empire inevitably fell, at least one corner of the galaxy wouldn't be swallowed in the chaos.
And, more selfishly, it was a place she felt she belonged.
Because of all this, the mere thought of HAVEN being discovered scared her more than anything. When Thorne first accused her in the Governor's office, she'd felt her entire world die a little. As though the walls had been closing in around her.
Thankfully, Las had been exceedingly reasonable, far more than she ever could've expected from an Imperial. But then again, he'd always been strange for someone born in the Core Worlds, so he was likely always that way.
Not that she could say the same about Thorne. Oh, sure, they worked together. They had meetings to discuss the next steps for HAVEN, Thorne listened in on the meetings she had with HAVENs other members, and he otherwise helped coordinate the organization's efforts.
But she couldn't bring herself to like or even respect him, no matter what.
Make no mistake, he was competent. That she could appreciate. As much as it hurt to say, he was good at his job, and provided an alternative perspective that directly challenged her own. Something needed to ensure HAVEN doesn't end up developing too narrow a view.
But his zealotry was painful. With every conversation it was clear why he did what he did. He loved the Empire, it was his life, his blood. Everything he did, every person killed, every life saved, was for the Empire.
He lived for it, he would die for it, and she knew firsthand he had absolutely zero problems killing for it. Darna worked within the trappings of the Empire because it gave her a structure on which to build something better. But it would only ever flourish once the Empire finally died.
Thorne didn't. He saw HAVEN as a way to purge corruption. To clean the rot out of the Empire and make it, somehow, the nation it was always meant to be. He saw the Emperor as a great man who made mistakes, and the Empire as a great nation marred by incompetence.
He legitimately believed that Tarkin had been a traitor, at least as far as she could tell.
And he would stay that way until the day he died.
At the very least, his expertise had helped HAVEN grow safely, though the organization was still pathetically small. There had been a small boom in new personnel as wave after wave of slaves were freed. Many if not most prime material, with a fire for freedom in their hearts.
WEB, on the other hand, lacked any sort of boom. WEB and HAVEN were kept separate from each other, deliberately so.
However, WEB was mostly a passive organization. Its agents are static, rarely doing anything other than simply listening and reporting. Useful, sure, but that meant that for active spy work, they had to rely on a precious few individuals.
Zyx Mola being one of them, and unarguably the best they had. She was a cheeky woman, driven as well, though seemingly more in the pursuit of perfecting her craft rather than any loyalty to the Empire.
Regardless, it meant that recruitment was slow. But not impossible. Especially if the agents were guaranteed cushy positions.
As Guildmistress of the IGCPP, Darna had been involved in the transfer of personnel and data over to the Braxant sector. As the new BGES was being developed, she had a few WEB agents tossed in there. They would be trained already, and rise up the ranks fairly quickly.
Active agents would on occasion help facilitate their rise as well. The plan being that given some years, many higher ranked staff positions would be held by WEB personnel, funneling internal info to them.
Of course, that would take years. But she was willing to wait.
A beep from her terminal showed her a message from Thorne. Encrypted, of course, but past that the message was clear. He wanted to deploy the kill squads in an operation outside the sector to strike at a known shadow port in the hopes of slowing the pirate menace.
She sighed, already prepping her counter argument. It wasn't a bad idea in theory, but in practice there were too many problems. Not to mention any kill squad needed Las's permission to go ahead as well.
Regardless, she settled in for an hour of back and forth encrypted arguments. Truly, her headache will never end.
–
Las
"I'm Moff Las Mola, and it's a pleasure to be meeting you both."
Before me were the holograms of two Moffs. Moff Verno of the Veragi Sector, and Moff Raioballo of the Veragi sector.
In terms of appearance they were relatively unremarkable. Verno was a thin, tall man with white skin and whiter hair, somewhere in his late 60's. Peri was the opposite, wider than he was tall with dark skin and no hair at all, while appearing far younger, maybe his mid 30's.
"I am Moff Trialdonatagorangifar Verno, Moff of the Veragi sector as decreed by our great and esteemed Emperor himself, victor of the Grand Battle of Nharl, the Great Routing of Plooma, and the Desolation of Revyia." Started Verno, placing a hand to his chest. He seemed to take a deeper breath, ready to go further on before Peri interrupted.
"And I am Moff Peri Perionala, Moff of the rich and prosperous Raioballo sector, home to the shipyards of the supremely advanced shipyards of Gravlex Med, with access to industrial capacity second only to the Core itself!"
I could see in Verno's eyes that he was about to interrupt the interruption with a continuation of his speech on his virtues. And Peri would almost certainly do the same. And I didn't want to deal with this for more than ten minutes.
"That's grand! I'm grateful to have such esteemed individuals as my neighbors." The praise seemed to work, the two idiots seemed to preen under a single line of bullshit. Wow, if it's that easy then they must've been super neglected as kids. Wild. Glad that never happened to me, and I turned out fine.
"I've made this call today to speak about a potential trade deal between our three sectors. I've noticed that most merchants tend to trade within a sector. Only larger companies start branching out. I believe this to be a folly, as it reduces traffic between sectors and therefore reduces taxes. So, I propose this."
With a few taps of a button, a simple file is sent across the signal. I watch as their respective holograms tap at terminals I can't see, their staticky hologram-blue eyes dragging along the page.
"The basis of the deal is simple. Each of our sectors will reduce tariffs and border crossing fees for those bringing goods from each other sectors. This will increase the overall volume of trade, and bring in more total wealth over higher-fee, lower-traffic trade."
I could see the idea run through their minds right on their faces. The idea was simple, and made everyone rich, so it was no wonder they thought it was a great idea. I could just see the reluctance behind their eyes. Pride was their marker, and neither wanted to jump on the boat of someone else's idea. At least, not without enough money involved.
"Of course, this will create the traffic needed for more secondary businesses. Larger/more repair docks, fuel stations, and hospitality hubs will flourish. And more importantly, be taxable."
Boom. I had them. The slight widening in their eyes as they inevitably got to the page of the document that showed projected tax revenue increases. It was a pretty decent jump, especially for outer rim sectors. And the project itself was simple, with no real risk for either of them.
Though, even as greed shined in their eyes, so did pride. Neither wanted to be the first to agree. Easily solvable.
"Though, I understand that this decision is one filled with complex numbers and much thinking involved. I won't ask for an answer right away, as I expect both of you brilliant gentlemen will have much to ponder on before coming to a conclusion."
"Why, of course! I, Moff Trialdonatagorangifar Verno, am a genius of much renown, and understand that such endeavors must be carefully thought over with great consideration, lest a mistake be made! Not that I can make such mistakes!"
"As do I understand! I did not create the most prosperous sector in the Outer Rim through luck and foolish endeavors, and so I will ponder this most vexing proposal until such a time as though I feel it proper to respond!."
With that and a few more minutes of pointless posturing, the two left the meeting and I felt relief unlike anything else.
Those two were insufferable, but they were stupid and easy to talk into stuff.
Dragging the energy needed to continue the day from my body kicking and screaming, I check my terminal for any new reports, one being from Ife herself.
Its subject was the academies. A dozen had been built, with another dozen on the way within a week. To call them full academies was a joke, they were mostly prefabs. But they worked, if nothing else.
Already some 60,000 sailors were in the process of being trained, though Ife lamented that the Mando's were only adept at training the combat portions of the curriculum instead of anything, which was a small part given that these were sailors, not soldiers. We were focusing entirely on sailors first, as boots on the ground were far more common than those rated to run warships.
Regardless, these sailors would not be of a particularly great level of quality. This was only worsened by the ISB agents at each facility.
The agents had been given 'advisory roles' at each academy. They are meant to send "success reports" directly to my office and the ISB's office of course. This measure, while annoying to me, creates an illusion of potential. These ISB agents now think that they have a direct line to me in a sense, and if their reports look the best, if their academy does the best, then I'll give them special treatment.
Sure, as ISB members the chain of command was separate in a way, but as a Moff I still had influence. And if they wanted to have more power in the ISB, having the backing of a Moff was helpful.
The second part of the report was the most polite rant about how absolutely shit the ISB agents were that I've ever read. Essentially, the ISB agents weren't just lying about academy success. They were overworking trainees.
They rushed courses, insisted on extra time for the "loyalty courses" which were just the propaganda courses that had already been butchered for the sake of time, and overall stressed trainees out. It was a problem.
Worse yet, it was a problem with no real solution. I couldn't make them leave, they were ISB. I'd let them in to cater to the ISB and essentially get their approval for two dozen new academies and butchered loyalty courses. Now I was stuck dealing with this bullshit.
It was as I was lamenting my fate that Myr'those decided to barge into my office.
"Ah, vermin, this office is atrocious! Where is the carpet? The couch? The high resolution holo-projector with built in surround sound!?"
"Back on Ugea. I just haven't gotten around to ordering it to be brought up."
"Then order faster! Why, back in my day a true Sith wouldn't be caught dead in such atrociously boring quarters. Not to mention, it's located in the bowels of this station with a measly window!"
The window was quite large, actually. It just wasn't the full glass wall my last office had.
"You are the ruler of this sector! You should stand at the peak of this station's tower, watching over your domain, but instead you skulk in the shadows of the station like a pest. Pathetic."
"You're just pissed about your new room, huh."
"It's tiny!"
"It's three times the size of mine, you know."
"That is because I am more deserving of space than you. But it is still an insult!"
I sighed. "Look. The Golan is just the first step. Give it some time, and I'll be bringing in more orbital infrastructure to support the Mard. That'll include a nicer station with more space. For now, you'll have to deal with it. As for the couch, just talk to my secretary. He can get it all sped up for you."
They looked annoyed, but realized I wouldn't budge on this so instead they simply huffed, pouted like a child and left the room.
Makes me incredibly glad I wasn't reborn during the ancient Sith Empire. I couldn't deal with a nation full of people like that.
–
Yo. For Darna's section, I wanted to show her own internal flaws a little more. Specifically, how she views Thorne. She's not entirely wrong about him, not really. But she doesn't think he can change, because to her people can't change. Las isn't even an exception, she just believed he was always like that. Why is she acting like this? Because I decided I should actually write my characters like, well, characters with flaws and growth and shit. I keep forgetting to do that.
Other than that, I baked zucchini bread. Shit is an absolute banger, I downed like most of the loaf. My family got maybe two slices. Worst part, it's got like nearly 2 cups of sugar in that thing. So much for veggies being healthy. Still great tho
Something something funny quip find your own laughs.
-Freefaller
Darna Sabrir
Minda
HAVEN had grown significantly since its inception, and as a result Darna found herself with far more to do than before.
She'd known from the beginning that this endeavor would be difficult. It would be stressful. It would consume her life. But at the time, it'd been a distant idea.
Now she was living its reality.
Every day was one in which a little voice rang out in the back of her mind.
What if today's the day it all comes crashing down.
If she was to be honest, it was her one true fear. Every other possibility, from torture to death and worse were things she was scared of, sure. But none of them held within her that same, bone deep fear of losing what she'd built.
Every now and again, when her actions and orders made her feel distant from the people they were meant to protect, she took a walk. Out she went, disguised of course, to simply walk the streets of Accordia.
It was refreshing, in a way, to have visible proof of her actions meaning something. Her time in the Rebellion had been action packed and full of speeches and bravado, but rarely did it feel as though she was making a difference.
It always felt like she was just fighting a dying giant. She knew, instinctively, that the Rebels would win in one form or another. If not this Rebellion, then another one down the line. An oppressive government simply wouldn't last.
But the Rebellion felt disconnected to her. Distant, fighting for a cause, for a people that rarely seemed to like them. Sure, nowadays that might've changed but her memories of the Rebellion will always be marred by scared civilians yelling at them to leave, lest the Empire turn them into ash for merely being near them.
Here, in the Myto sector, she could build something. A place of real peace and prosperity. Ready and waiting so that when the Empire inevitably fell, at least one corner of the galaxy wouldn't be swallowed in the chaos.
And, more selfishly, it was a place she felt she belonged.
Because of all this, the mere thought of HAVEN being discovered scared her more than anything. When Thorne first accused her in the Governor's office, she'd felt her entire world die a little. As though the walls had been closing in around her.
Thankfully, Las had been exceedingly reasonable, far more than she ever could've expected from an Imperial. But then again, he'd always been strange for someone born in the Core Worlds, so he was likely always that way.
Not that she could say the same about Thorne. Oh, sure, they worked together. They had meetings to discuss the next steps for HAVEN, Thorne listened in on the meetings she had with HAVENs other members, and he otherwise helped coordinate the organization's efforts.
But she couldn't bring herself to like or even respect him, no matter what.
Make no mistake, he was competent. That she could appreciate. As much as it hurt to say, he was good at his job, and provided an alternative perspective that directly challenged her own. Something needed to ensure HAVEN doesn't end up developing too narrow a view.
But his zealotry was painful. With every conversation it was clear why he did what he did. He loved the Empire, it was his life, his blood. Everything he did, every person killed, every life saved, was for the Empire.
He lived for it, he would die for it, and she knew firsthand he had absolutely zero problems killing for it. Darna worked within the trappings of the Empire because it gave her a structure on which to build something better. But it would only ever flourish once the Empire finally died.
Thorne didn't. He saw HAVEN as a way to purge corruption. To clean the rot out of the Empire and make it, somehow, the nation it was always meant to be. He saw the Emperor as a great man who made mistakes, and the Empire as a great nation marred by incompetence.
He legitimately believed that Tarkin had been a traitor, at least as far as she could tell.
And he would stay that way until the day he died.
At the very least, his expertise had helped HAVEN grow safely, though the organization was still pathetically small. There had been a small boom in new personnel as wave after wave of slaves were freed. Many if not most prime material, with a fire for freedom in their hearts.
WEB, on the other hand, lacked any sort of boom. WEB and HAVEN were kept separate from each other, deliberately so.
However, WEB was mostly a passive organization. Its agents are static, rarely doing anything other than simply listening and reporting. Useful, sure, but that meant that for active spy work, they had to rely on a precious few individuals.
Zyx Mola being one of them, and unarguably the best they had. She was a cheeky woman, driven as well, though seemingly more in the pursuit of perfecting her craft rather than any loyalty to the Empire.
Regardless, it meant that recruitment was slow. But not impossible. Especially if the agents were guaranteed cushy positions.
As Guildmistress of the IGCPP, Darna had been involved in the transfer of personnel and data over to the Braxant sector. As the new BGES was being developed, she had a few WEB agents tossed in there. They would be trained already, and rise up the ranks fairly quickly.
Active agents would on occasion help facilitate their rise as well. The plan being that given some years, many higher ranked staff positions would be held by WEB personnel, funneling internal info to them.
Of course, that would take years. But she was willing to wait.
A beep from her terminal showed her a message from Thorne. Encrypted, of course, but past that the message was clear. He wanted to deploy the kill squads in an operation outside the sector to strike at a known shadow port in the hopes of slowing the pirate menace.
She sighed, already prepping her counter argument. It wasn't a bad idea in theory, but in practice there were too many problems. Not to mention any kill squad needed Las's permission to go ahead as well.
Regardless, she settled in for an hour of back and forth encrypted arguments. Truly, her headache will never end.
–
Las
"I'm Moff Las Mola, and it's a pleasure to be meeting you both."
Before me were the holograms of two Moffs. Moff Verno of the Veragi Sector, and Moff Raioballo of the Veragi sector.
In terms of appearance they were relatively unremarkable. Verno was a thin, tall man with white skin and whiter hair, somewhere in his late 60's. Peri was the opposite, wider than he was tall with dark skin and no hair at all, while appearing far younger, maybe his mid 30's.
"I am Moff Trialdonatagorangifar Verno, Moff of the Veragi sector as decreed by our great and esteemed Emperor himself, victor of the Grand Battle of Nharl, the Great Routing of Plooma, and the Desolation of Revyia." Started Verno, placing a hand to his chest. He seemed to take a deeper breath, ready to go further on before Peri interrupted.
"And I am Moff Peri Perionala, Moff of the rich and prosperous Raioballo sector, home to the shipyards of the supremely advanced shipyards of Gravlex Med, with access to industrial capacity second only to the Core itself!"
I could see in Verno's eyes that he was about to interrupt the interruption with a continuation of his speech on his virtues. And Peri would almost certainly do the same. And I didn't want to deal with this for more than ten minutes.
"That's grand! I'm grateful to have such esteemed individuals as my neighbors." The praise seemed to work, the two idiots seemed to preen under a single line of bullshit. Wow, if it's that easy then they must've been super neglected as kids. Wild. Glad that never happened to me, and I turned out fine.
"I've made this call today to speak about a potential trade deal between our three sectors. I've noticed that most merchants tend to trade within a sector. Only larger companies start branching out. I believe this to be a folly, as it reduces traffic between sectors and therefore reduces taxes. So, I propose this."
With a few taps of a button, a simple file is sent across the signal. I watch as their respective holograms tap at terminals I can't see, their staticky hologram-blue eyes dragging along the page.
"The basis of the deal is simple. Each of our sectors will reduce tariffs and border crossing fees for those bringing goods from each other sectors. This will increase the overall volume of trade, and bring in more total wealth over higher-fee, lower-traffic trade."
I could see the idea run through their minds right on their faces. The idea was simple, and made everyone rich, so it was no wonder they thought it was a great idea. I could just see the reluctance behind their eyes. Pride was their marker, and neither wanted to jump on the boat of someone else's idea. At least, not without enough money involved.
"Of course, this will create the traffic needed for more secondary businesses. Larger/more repair docks, fuel stations, and hospitality hubs will flourish. And more importantly, be taxable."
Boom. I had them. The slight widening in their eyes as they inevitably got to the page of the document that showed projected tax revenue increases. It was a pretty decent jump, especially for outer rim sectors. And the project itself was simple, with no real risk for either of them.
Though, even as greed shined in their eyes, so did pride. Neither wanted to be the first to agree. Easily solvable.
"Though, I understand that this decision is one filled with complex numbers and much thinking involved. I won't ask for an answer right away, as I expect both of you brilliant gentlemen will have much to ponder on before coming to a conclusion."
"Why, of course! I, Moff Trialdonatagorangifar Verno, am a genius of much renown, and understand that such endeavors must be carefully thought over with great consideration, lest a mistake be made! Not that I can make such mistakes!"
"As do I understand! I did not create the most prosperous sector in the Outer Rim through luck and foolish endeavors, and so I will ponder this most vexing proposal until such a time as though I feel it proper to respond!."
With that and a few more minutes of pointless posturing, the two left the meeting and I felt relief unlike anything else.
Those two were insufferable, but they were stupid and easy to talk into stuff.
Dragging the energy needed to continue the day from my body kicking and screaming, I check my terminal for any new reports, one being from Ife herself.
Its subject was the academies. A dozen had been built, with another dozen on the way within a week. To call them full academies was a joke, they were mostly prefabs. But they worked, if nothing else.
Already some 60,000 sailors were in the process of being trained, though Ife lamented that the Mando's were only adept at training the combat portions of the curriculum instead of anything, which was a small part given that these were sailors, not soldiers. We were focusing entirely on sailors first, as boots on the ground were far more common than those rated to run warships.
Regardless, these sailors would not be of a particularly great level of quality. This was only worsened by the ISB agents at each facility.
The agents had been given 'advisory roles' at each academy. They are meant to send "success reports" directly to my office and the ISB's office of course. This measure, while annoying to me, creates an illusion of potential. These ISB agents now think that they have a direct line to me in a sense, and if their reports look the best, if their academy does the best, then I'll give them special treatment.
Sure, as ISB members the chain of command was separate in a way, but as a Moff I still had influence. And if they wanted to have more power in the ISB, having the backing of a Moff was helpful.
The second part of the report was the most polite rant about how absolutely shit the ISB agents were that I've ever read. Essentially, the ISB agents weren't just lying about academy success. They were overworking trainees.
They rushed courses, insisted on extra time for the "loyalty courses" which were just the propaganda courses that had already been butchered for the sake of time, and overall stressed trainees out. It was a problem.
Worse yet, it was a problem with no real solution. I couldn't make them leave, they were ISB. I'd let them in to cater to the ISB and essentially get their approval for two dozen new academies and butchered loyalty courses. Now I was stuck dealing with this bullshit.
It was as I was lamenting my fate that Myr'those decided to barge into my office.
"Ah, vermin, this office is atrocious! Where is the carpet? The couch? The high resolution holo-projector with built in surround sound!?"
"Back on Ugea. I just haven't gotten around to ordering it to be brought up."
"Then order faster! Why, back in my day a true Sith wouldn't be caught dead in such atrociously boring quarters. Not to mention, it's located in the bowels of this station with a measly window!"
The window was quite large, actually. It just wasn't the full glass wall my last office had.
"You are the ruler of this sector! You should stand at the peak of this station's tower, watching over your domain, but instead you skulk in the shadows of the station like a pest. Pathetic."
"You're just pissed about your new room, huh."
"It's tiny!"
"It's three times the size of mine, you know."
"That is because I am more deserving of space than you. But it is still an insult!"
I sighed. "Look. The Golan is just the first step. Give it some time, and I'll be bringing in more orbital infrastructure to support the Mard. That'll include a nicer station with more space. For now, you'll have to deal with it. As for the couch, just talk to my secretary. He can get it all sped up for you."
They looked annoyed, but realized I wouldn't budge on this so instead they simply huffed, pouted like a child and left the room.
Makes me incredibly glad I wasn't reborn during the ancient Sith Empire. I couldn't deal with a nation full of people like that.
–
Yo. For Darna's section, I wanted to show her own internal flaws a little more. Specifically, how she views Thorne. She's not entirely wrong about him, not really. But she doesn't think he can change, because to her people can't change. Las isn't even an exception, she just believed he was always like that. Why is she acting like this? Because I decided I should actually write my characters like, well, characters with flaws and growth and shit. I keep forgetting to do that.
Other than that, I baked zucchini bread. Shit is an absolute banger, I downed like most of the loaf. My family got maybe two slices. Worst part, it's got like nearly 2 cups of sugar in that thing. So much for veggies being healthy. Still great tho
Something something funny quip find your own laughs.
-Freefaller