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Governor's Gambit - Star Wars SI into Imperial Governor

I really don't get the "marry the lizard princess" clamoring. Like, you all did read the part where she's supposed to wed a prince for the sake of peace, right? Unless the prince is dead himself or the nation called off the thing, she's not going to become the Governeur's bride.

Not to mention, in the event of the protag taking the money and running, abandoning a wife that is tied to the native population to live out a midlife crisis (not the actual reason) is going to make him look even worse than he already would be.

Like, damn, I get this is QQ, but please try using your upper head once in a while and consider the diplomatic whole.
 
"How can you have a so prosperous and loyal citizenship!?"

"I discovered that happy people who lives better and aren't being oppressed are more loyal?"

"That strange words again! What kind of old and strange language do you speak?"

"Err it was basic?"

"No I've never heard any of those words, except for oppression, of course.

If Palpatine finds out there's a really popular moff making things better, he'll probably get rid of them.
Early Palpy? No doubt.

Late Empire Palpy? Won't give a damn.

Luke was completely right, his overconfidence was his weak point.
 
Succession Salon New
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 getting 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 Endor."

Whether through shrewd manipulation or sheer dumb luck. The Mola matriarch and the Governor's sisters were all noticeably absent from Endor 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-sentiments 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
 
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Also, because I don't really know how it works, how do conventional militaries adapt to a dense jungle environment? Cause I doubt the Imperial Army, or even the Stormtroopers are fit for such a dense battlefield. There won't be a war per se, but conflict is expected at one point or another and I want to understand how that might go down better before I get to writing it. Any ideas or info is greatly appreciated.

As always, feedback and commentary is appreciated.
Yeahhhhhh, I'm pretty sure they don't. That's why they struggled with taking khashykk, and suffered hard from the Ewoks.
 
Yeahhhhhh, I'm pretty sure they don't. That's why they struggled with taking khashykk, and suffered hard from the Ewoks.
Conventional Militaries and to a lesser extent the Imperial Armies used to do so but by now they are sorta being replaced en mass by the Stormtroopers which are basically the Imperials going eh... just throw more numbers at it.

Mola's imperials being the earlier versions are staffed with clones and the more well trained compared to the Imperial average by now.

Usually its inefficient and they take disproportionate losses but they have enough meat for the grinder. Which is why despite struggling the Empire left scars on Khashykk and the Ewoks.
 
"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 Endor."

Whether through shrewd manipulation or sheer dumb luck. The Mola matriarch and the Governor's sisters were all noticeably absent from Endor despite it being Tarkin's pride and joy.
. . . How the fuck does anyone mix up Yavin and Endor? Like, seriously, have you ever actually seen the movies or were you just dropped on your head as a child?
 
Chp-65: Negotiations(Threats) New
Chp-65: Negotiations(Threats)

At one point early on during my tenure as a governor, I cursed the universe upon my realization that I would have to engage in politics.

This was, of course, after I had a mental breakdown or three in my room over being dragged into another reality, never to see my family and friends ever again.

Now, I was once again cursing the universe because not only do I have to engage in politics, but I have to engage in politics as the colonizer.

Fuck.

So, to make things less awkward and to hopefully come up with some kind of plan to reduce the negative impact of all this, I was reading.

Specifically, a report on the Verndari. The species native to Minda-2.

They reminded me somewhat of the Na'vi, but shorter on average, though still tall. 7-8ft seems to be common.

Green skin with some varying hues, prehensile feet, hair with varying colors, two eyes, four fingers, and odd crystal growths along their forehead.

As for culture, it varied greatly. The clans in the jungle valleys rarely had more than a thousand people, with few city-states existing within the harsh conditions.

The northern part of the continent contained a large amount of volcanoes that created conditions ideal for farming, leading to larger nations.

As expected, the cultures varied as well. Clans and tribes from the jungles had their own traditions, but generally stuck to a culture of survival due to some event of some kind a few centuries ago that is ill defined. The jungle is not a god to be made peace with, or an enemy to defeat, but a challenge to be overcome.

On the other side, the northern nations have more varied cultures, but curiously follow a similar cultural ideal as well. Of course, theirs is more on the side of growth and the like, seeing the world as a place to conquer and learn from.

Obviously, a lot of these details are vague and mostly grabbed from Corleone's internal logs, but it's better than nothing. I'll just have to get the diplomats to explain more.

It wasn't long before my shuttle landed. I had wanted to fly it myself, since it's been a while and I quite enjoy flying, but I had reports to read.

Stepping off the shuttle, I am immediately met by the intense heat of the jungle. Combined with a humidity that makes Florida feel like LA and I instantly want to go inside.

Mugwuffin seems to agree, having practically flown towards the door and was pawing for a way in. Though, Myr'thos seems unbothered. Sith shenanigans, I swear.

Heatbadstuffypleaseplease

I don't answer verbally, if only to avoid seeming insane in front of my bodyguards. Gotta keep up the image, right?

Exhausting.

Entering the facility, I'm greeted by the blessed environmental control and the facilities newly assigned Commandant. A tan skinned togrutan man named Lare Tanezi, who I chose specifically because he was not a human and because he was from Minda. I couldn't have some arrogant human-centrist officer in control around here, after all.

"Sir. We've gotten into contact with the major native nations and tribes in the area. Their representatives are waiting for you."

"Good." And it really was. I was half expecting to be forced to meet them halfway in the jungle or something. Thank god for the small mercies.

Wait…don't thank god! That fucker probably stuck me here!

As my little war against the heavens raged within, I made my way to the meeting room. As I understood it, negotiations with the locals had amounted to giving them their princess back, flying some TIEs around to discourage violence, and meeting a few times with protocol droids to get the language down pat. Combined with what Corleone got, it meant the droids were now practically fluent.

Now, I had to deal with the rest of it.

Honestly? Paperwork sounds better.

Entering the meeting room, I glance around. There are quite a few representatives. Means they're divided.

The room itself was simple. The muted blue leftover from Corleone's tenure, along with a large table. The representatives sat on one side, while I sat on the other, none of us sitting at the heads of the table. Kept things feeling civil, even though I had the advantage.

The reps themselves were varied to say the least. I could tell the difference between city and tribe folk, however. The general quality and complexity marked a difference.

After I sat down, the protocol droid shambled on over to me.

"Sir." It spoke. "These are the representatives of the most prominent local factions of the Verndari species. Please note that many titles and names are approximate translations."

It then began introductions.

"This warrior is Gotan, the Sworn Brother of the Chieftain of the Stone-Grit tribe. They are the largest jungle based tribe."

He was a larger man, abnormally tall even for the Verndari, at nearly 9 feet. The pelts he wore were unusually thick for such a hot environment. Script of some kind was scrawled across it, intricate in its writing and denoting clear patterns. Likely a religious meaning of some kind.

"The princess is Princess Ula, current heir to the city-state of Luminous Canopy, one of the apparently few jungle city-states."

Standing at around 7ft, she wore a mask made of some kind of wood that had clear bioluminescence, with glowing patterns shifting across it. She wore far lighter clothing than her compatriot, though far more of it was made of the same wood as her mask, in an almost armor-like composition.

Then came the city-folk.

"This is Archduchess Limali, ruler of the heartlands and heir to the throne of the Fulcrum Dynasty."

First in the lineup was a woman of their average height. Her skin was a darker green than the tribesfolk, and she wore what resembled a tailored coat, ash grey in color. It was criscrossed with geometric patterns that resembled rows of crops. The outfit was accented with what looked like polished bronze at the cuffs and other areas. Her poise spoke of power, but her eyes spoke of caution.

"Next is High-Warden Juntal, council member of the Ash-Mark confederacy."

The next man was a tad taller, with similarly dark skin, and sported something resembling a toga, with magma red flowers dotted with black spots woven into the outfit, seeming to bloom along the seams. Many pockets dotted the outfits layers, though where the toga began and the pockets ended was unclear at times. He seemed interested in me, as if I were an opportunity. Political player, maybe.

"The covered lady is Lumina-Seer Idala of the Ember-Heart Covenant."

Another came clad in many layers of grey, obscuring their body entirely save for the eyes. Ornaments of volcanic rock and obsidian adorned them, hanging from their neck, waist and wrists. The fabrics themselves, while dull at a glance, caught the light in odd ways. It seemed to redirect light, making the figure blurry at times. I couldn't tell their gender at a glance, though the eyes were shaped more similarly to the women at the table, and were seemingly of a lighter tone. Seer? Religious figure maybe? It's called a covenant after all.

"This gentleman here is Marshal Olbret of the Obsidian Wardenship"

Then came what was surely a military officer of sorts. Clad in a color reminiscent of basalt rocks, the man was broad shouldered and wore what had to be a uniform. The lines were simple, near brutalist, with pauldrons and all. When he moved, I could see the hint of rectangular shapes beneath the fabric. Likely armor panelling of sorts. To keep the two sides of the upper part together, instead of buttons or zippers, the sides seem to have been woven together in an intricate pattern. Likely a tradition of some sorts. His gaze was narrowed, aggressive. Might be a problem, likely a show of force would be required. Then an integration into local defense forces in some way. Culturally tie them to us. Point the aggression elsewhere.

"And finally, the Prime Cartographer Elwere."

The final representative was another man, though more diminutive than the others, closer to 6'8. His skin was a similar tone to the others, but his outfit was quite simple. A tunic of some kind, with a few layers and a hooded cloak. This outfit also had many, many pockets, but they were more visible. An amethyst stone of some kind made up the majority of his jewelry and accents, most in the form of necklaces and bracelets, of which he wore many. He seemed…curious. A society built on more adventuring, perhaps. A more exploratory spirit. Could be harnessed, easier to connect with. A whole galaxy to offer them, after all.

Then, the protocol droid spoke some words in a foreign language to the representatives, before turning to me once again.

"They are ready for your address, sir."

Okay. Got it. Keep it cool. Let's start with an introduction. Then segue into the whole Empire shtick. Have a whole presentation ready for them and everything.

"Hello. My name is Las Mola. I am what is known as a Governor in the Galactic Empire." Quick, precise, simple. I watched as the droid relayed my message, and the envoys reacted. Most seemed…annoyed. Insulted, even.

Then, the military one, the Marshal, spoke up. His voice was guttural, really emphasizing his military role. Quite powerful. I could see how it could inspire troops and cause fear in his enemies.

"Governor? This term is for those lower on the rungs of power. Tell me, where is your leader? Your Emperor?" He said, annoyed. Seems he's not happy that someone higher up didn't show. Time to break the ice.

"The Emperor, or someone more important, isn't here because this world, your world, known to us as Minda-2, is not important. It is one of millions of worlds within the Empire."

As the droid relayed my words, I watched their response. At first, they seemed somewhat shocked and, again, insulted. Unimportant!? How could their world be unimportant!? Then, I said the last part. '...within the Empire.'"

At that, they all seemed agitated. The warrior, Gotan, quickly stood up.

"You DARE claim dominion over us!?"

He seemed to be on the verge of drawing his weapon, when a pressure fell over the room. A dark thing, like death itself, was looking into your eyes. It lasted only a second, and only Mugwuffin's power saved me from it.

Gotan, on the other hand, fell back into his seat like he had just stared into the eyes of God, and feared what he saw. The rest were clearly shaken, though they maintained decorum fairly well. The Lumina-Seer seemed to be quietly muttering what might be prayers.

Of course, there was no God here. Just Myr'thos, bored out of their minds and deciding to mess with the locals a little bit.

Honestly? Well played.

"Please. Don't make a fool of yourself." I state simply.

"Now. The Empire, through overwhelming force, could conquer this planet. It could burn your jungles, turn your cities to ash, and enslave your people. Thankfully for you, Governors are given a good amount of independence on how things are run within their systems."

Even in their fear ridden state, these professionals could tell what I was alluding to.

"So, you claim to have power over our freedom? Over our people and lands?" Asked the Confederate Warden, Juntal. He was curious, if still quite scared. I suppose he really was a political climber, if he saw this shitshow of a situation as an opportunity.

"You misunderstand. I don't have power over you. The Empire has power over you. I am simply a Governor, one of many, who will determine how best this planet, its lands, and your people, will serve the Empire. To be honest with you, I am your best bet for survival."

"Oh? How so?" Asked the Cartographer. Why a cartographer? Was that the best approximation the droid could find? Weird ass culture.

"The two star systems I rule, like all inhabited star systems ruled by the Empire, must meet a quota. Resources, dependent on the system's capabilities. Now, due to some special capabilities, the systems I rule have a reduced quota, to increase productivity towards special interests. To be honest, I have no real need for this planet, and neither does the Empire."

"Then why bother us? Why fight our people and take me prisoner?" Snarled the Princess. Clearly, someone was still pissy about the Corleones bullshit. Why was she sent anyways? She would obviously be biased in a bad way!

"That was not the Empire. It was a company. A group of independent merchants. We allowed them to create outposts here, in the mountains, to study the planet, and see if there was anything of use. Then, they broke Imperial Law and started expanding into territory owned by the Empire. So, we arrested their leadership, and took their things. That's when we found you."

"If not for that company, called Corleone, I would've continued ignoring this planet. It's incredibly dangerous, and I never really wanted to deal with it, or you. Corleone forced me to act."

For the first time, the Archduchess spoke.

"Why are you the best choice? In fact, why are you a choice at all, Governor? That…trick of the mind…useful, but can it fell cities? Nations? Where is the power that backs your authority? Your word?"

Ah. So she was calling my bluff. Fair enough point. It was time I did this.

A subtle button press on my wrist mounted PDA as I start to speak signals an officer to begin their descent.

"I am your best choice for a simple reason, Archduchess. You have no better options. If I fail to show that this planet is firmly in Imperial control, the Empire will send someone else to replace me. They might even kill me."

At this point, I lean forward ever so slightly.

"And heres the thing. I don't condone slavery. I don't condone wanton destruction and slaughter. If I stay in power, your people will enjoy relative freedom, along with the improvements in technology, education, and other sectors the Empire will bring. But other Governors? They won't see it that way. You will not be people with potential, but an asset to be used. Labour to be exploited. A planet to be ravaged."

It was then that my PDA dinged, signalling it was time. Leaning back, I gestured towards the window as the blinds fully rolled up. Despite being nearly midday, a shadow started to grow on the building.

"As for power? Suffice to say, we have it."

The envoys could do little but stare in awe as the Heavy Judgement floated above the facility, the dagger shaped battleship stretching farther than the base itself.

Their body language seemed on the verge of breaking, as I similarly broke their worldview.

The last straw? When the ship started to fire its weapons.

Aiming at the nearest mountain, avoiding any jungle so as to not burn it down, the mainline batteries fired.

And fired.

And fired.

Enough to leave notable damage on the mountain side. Noticeable from miles away.

As parts of the mountain crumbled into the valley below, the shades started to retreat back into their previous position, and the envoys stumbled back into their seats. They were all shaken, breaths quick at a display of more power than any empire of theirs had ever had.

"So. As you can see. The Empire very much has the means to destroy you. So, let's work on making sure that won't happen, yes?"

They seemed to nod, bravado gone.

"Good! So, let's start with trade and economics. We can move onto education and the uplift program afterwards."

As I say this, the protocol droid brings me a large stack of flimsi, and spreads it, along with writing implements, across the table. It was business mode now baby! Time to start getting these people up to speed with the rest of the galaxy!

"Obviously, more detailed work will be done over time with bureaucrats and the like, but for now I want everyone to get on the same page. Resources, trade routes, allies, other nations, etc… We need to get this information down so we can start to properly uplift this planet."

Confusion was evident across their faces, and for a second I wondered why. Ah! It must the flimsi!

After I took a few minutes to point out how to use the writing implements, the Warden asked a question.

"...Governor? Why are you doing this? Is this not…beneath you?"

"Hah!" At that, I can't help but laugh.

"Governors who delegate too much, who aren't willing to get elbow deep into the work of it all, tend to fail or become corrupt. I don't want to be corrupt, and failing means death, so I work! Its the Empire after all. Failure is not tolerated."

They all seemed a tad worried about that.

Honestly? Mood.

That was my last non-work related thought before I settled in for a long period of work. And long it was. 6 hours with these delegates, coordinating info, getting rudimentary plans made up. Obviously, they weren't experts in this, but this was mostly so their bosses had an idea of what was going on.

They would be escorted back to their homes by the Heavy Judgement to ensure each and every one of their nations knew what was good. A trooper garrison was to be set up nearby, LECA's included, of course. Mostly to keep a tab on them all.

It wasn't the smoothest start, and there would very likely be more challenges to the Empire's authority in the near future. Well, there's a reason I had Shal bring her deadly dorito down here. I may not like being near her all that much, but she's got the biggest stick, and I don't want her sitting around doing nothing. Might as well put that logistical nightmare to good use.

-

Hi there folks! This chapter was originally going to include Shal's POV and Gary's POV(dw, that's next chapter), but it grew too big, and I want to get it out tonight. I would write for longer, but I started my summer semester(a week after spring ended, fucking wild), and class starts at 9:45 so I can't sleep in.

I tried giving some intrigue to the natives, because they will be filling the role of B plot for some time. A more consistent place to center the alternate POV's on that is actually interesting and impactful to the story without being part of the main plot.

Also, I've been thinking. The ISD is kinda not great for the situations the Outer Rim needs. Both the ISD 1 and 2 are almost completely chock full of turbolasers and ion cannons, which is great for brawling with other capital ships. It's a beast in battle, of that there is no doubt, especially with a competent commander and its TIE's running interception.

The thing is, the Outer Rim doesn't need that. But it still has a fuck ton of them. I've been thinking that Las might eventually offer refits of the ships, to expand on their functionality. More efficiency, more adaptability. Hopefully cheaper to run. I have ideas, fairly fleshed out, but I want to hear yours. You guys out-nerd me at every turn, so I figure y'all have this one in the bag. Also, you guys get real hot and bothered when ship theory comes up(at least on SB), so I figure why not.

Feedback and commentary appreciated!

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller
 
have to engage in politics as the colonizer.
Could be worse, you could be the colonized.

to avoid seeming insane in front of my bodyguard
Sanity is indeed the most exhausting activity

"Hah!" At that, I can't help but laugh.
Our boi is slowly losing it and he knows it. Hey look on the bright side. Atleast you are not marrying a princess
Heatbadstuffypleaseplease
It's 33 Celsius outside right now, I feel Mugwuffin on a personal metaphysical level
 
It kinda feels like their society has delved a bit into Biotech just from the description of their culture and from what they are wearing with the bioluminescence and possibly their bodies themselves but I am a bit more iffy on that last part.
 
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I.... really want to see the perspective of this delegation...They came expecting a something completely different and they are meet with a leader that's doing the work and will not accept bullshit. Our MC here is just upper mngt in the empire but hes actually doing the work cause in his mind he'll die if he doesn't....And that scares politicians and these folks aside from the warriors look like they depend on bloodlines for leadership.

...
 
Yeah, he very bluntly stated that if he doesn't do this and also not make some type of profit from this he will most likely be killed and someone who won't give a crap about them and will probably enslave them while likely killing off a bunch of their population just because they don't care and just need a set quota of resources to export. It really tells the delegates exactly what sort of Empire they are dealing with and that he is the reasonably ones in his government. After the fact that he very much clearly showed exactly what will happen if they don't comply and understand what is going to happen now.
 
Honestly ISDs are supposed to be the Empire's version of Norman castellation, which is the concept of dotting fortifications across a conquered territory like pins holding down a map, thus ensuring there is always at least one armed garrison within a day's ride of any given area. Early rapid-response tactics.

An ISD is not just a battleship, it's the physical embodiment of what every Saxon peasant felt when he saw one of those ubiquitous Norman forts. It's a declaration of supremacy, we are here and you cannot hope to challenge us.
 
he 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?
No matter how old or powerful you are. Some pissed off farm boy with lots of sword training will end your bloodline
 
Honestly ISDs are supposed to be the Empire's version of Norman castellation, which is the concept of dotting fortifications across a conquered territory like pins holding down a map, thus ensuring there is always at least one armed garrison within a day's ride of any given area. Early rapid-response tactics.

An ISD is not just a battleship, it's the physical embodiment of what every Saxon peasant felt when he saw one of those ubiquitous Norman forts. It's a declaration of supremacy, we are here and you cannot hope to challenge us.
That actually makes a lot of sense if you sit back and actually picture what ISD's are supposed to be.
 
Also, I've been thinking. The ISD is kinda not great for the situations the Outer Rim needs. Both the ISD 1 and 2 are almost completely chock full of turbolasers and ion cannons, which is great for brawling with other capital ships. It's a beast in battle, of that there is no doubt, especially with a competent commander and its TIE's running interception.

The thing is, the Outer Rim doesn't need that.
One or two ISD's are excellent as "fleet-in-being" deterrent for enemies. Just sitting around in port, the sheer firepower they could bring to bear if they sortie forces any pirates, rebels or any other force to have to account for the possibility of an ISD bearing down on them in their plans. Perhaps stopping any hostile plans entirely, or at least redirecting those plans towards less troublesome worlds, likely with shittier governors.

On one hand, fleet-in-being is a denial doctrine, not a supremacy doctrine. On the other, Minda doesn't yet have the ships, manpower or clout to actually enforce a supremacy doctrine outside their systems.
 
The thing is, the Outer Rim doesn't need that. But it still has a fuck ton of them. I've been thinking that Las might eventually offer refits of the ships, to expand on their functionality. More efficiency, more adaptability. Hopefully cheaper to run. I have ideas, fairly fleshed out, but I want to hear yours. You guys out-nerd me at every turn, so I figure y'all have this one in the bag. Also, you guys get real hot and bothered when ship theory comes up(at least on SB), so I figure why not.
The main thing I would do is automate most of the ship. It has FAR too high a crew count for its' size even without carrying the army/battalion it is supposed to have. You could easily cut the crew requirements in half if not to a third of its' current amount. Not even counting streamlining/redesigning/pruning the corridors and other systems that are no longer necessary by reducing the crew count. Quick and dirty math says you could shave a quarter off its' mass doing that.

Edit: After that...point defense systems are a must. It has for its' size pitiful amounts of PD to take care of fighters. It's designed to fight capital ships exclusively and it SHOWS in a very bad way. One of these or even multiple of these without a Vigil Class or other similar ships to screen them are just waiting for fighters and bombers to swarm them.

Remove the last gen sensor suite and pay for the upgrade to modernize it. It will increase the cost by at least 10,000 credits a ship but having sensors that are worth a damn is important.

After that, see if we can add hangars with the amount of space saved by the space savings earlier. Try to aim for doubling the fighter complement.

Edit 2: Speaking of its' fighter complement, get rid of all the TIE/LNs in them and replace them with better variants. The TIE/LN is just a flying coffin whose only thing going for it is its' speed. Even that though has fallen by the wayside as other variants of the TIE can be even faster than it is and the Rebellion has fighters comparable in speed that also have shields and other systems that the TIE/LN does not.

Edit 3: The TIE Interceptor would be my chosen variant to replace it with. As for any bombers it has, I would exchange them out for the Star Wing if at all possible. Later on if Las could get his head out of the sand I would love to see Minda design/develop/make the Missile Boat earlier in the timeline and replace all of our fighters with it.
 
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