Governor's Gambit - Star Wars SI into Imperial Governor

[Freefaller]

Chp-31: Ground Level

Rhorm Rambos
Edin System, Edin 2, Edin City

With a heave, Rhorm pulled down the lever, watching as the tractor beam activated, connecting the debris-filled barge with the heavy speeder in front of it. He banged on the speeder's back end.

"Good to go!" He yelled, breath turning to white fog in the cold.

He barely heard the confirmation over the noise of the construction site, tools and ships and people all mixed together to create a loud, heavy background sound.

The Imperial Construction Unit was in the midst of tearing down a large portion of the once luxurious penthouse palaces that sat near to the capitol building. They had been owned by the richest criminals in the system, used as their centers of business and trade. Of course, the old governor had let them build that close, what with all the 'gifts' they gave him.

But now, the new governor wants it all gone. Those who owned the buildings are either dead or in hiding, and the space is better suited for more government facilities. Apparently, one of them will function as a Milita academy to train a better planetside police force. He was even paying extra to get it done in the midst of winter.

He almost scoffed at that, his gloved hand wiping away some sweat off his brow. Edin? Good policing? It was like the start to a bad joke. Edins police were so corrupt they were more like a gang of their own.

Of course, like many things, that changed when the new governor set up shop. The entire police precinct was rounded up and put under arrest by the governor's Imperial Army troopers. Hell, even the army and stormtroopers stationed here were put under temporary arrest. There was a massive investigation going on to assess whether or not they would keep their jobs.

Rhorm hoped they didn't. He liked these new cops a little. After all, just a few days ago, some punks tried to rob him. He gave as good as he got, but three on one isn't fair.

So, when two Military Police troopers stunned the lot of them, and helped him up, he was honestly expecting a shakedown. But they actually helped. The officer down at the station, this human man with a very nice mustache, took his statement without any threats, subtle messages, nothing. Just professional help, and a smoldering look that made Rhorms Togrutan predator instincts light up.

As Rhorm daydreamed about getting down and dirty with some muscle bound policeman, he almost didn't notice his supervisor waving in his direction.

He jogged over. "Heya boss. What's going on?"

"Nothing bad" said the boss, a beer-bellied nikto woman with more pounds than scales. Couldn't lift a hammer for the life of her, but Relly was a damn good planner. And very vocal about protecting her crew. "We're just finishing up the day, and I realized you're the only one who hasn't gotten his benefits paperwork yet. Shoulda gotten that when you signed on, but ID verification here is slower than on Minda."

She tapped a few times on her PDA, gloved hands making the action clumsy, then looked towards him.

"Get these filled out when you can, else you might miss out on the benefits program. As an Edin native you get a few extra things to help you out while it's still nasty here."

"Benefits…what do you mean? I already get paid for the job." Rhorm was confused. Getting paid fair and square was the benefit of the job. Only big corpos got fancy addons.

"You get medical coverage, life insurance, extra classes at any affiliated school, access to government child caring services, and as an Edin native you get priority access to the new food distribution services and the like. Along with priority for new housing and schooling, and a couple heaters until you get housed, since it's winter and all. Get the docs signed and sent back to me by the end of the week."

He scratched the back of his head as he read over some of the contracts. Sure, he could read and write, it was a common enough skill. But, like most inhabitants of Edin city, complex grammar was outside his skillset.

"Uhh, boss, I don't really know all these words. Is there a simpler version or something?"

Relly sighed. "If you look around the appstore, you can find some apps that let you scan words for their meanings. For contracts, it's helpful. Think it's called…AuraEasy, or something like that. You can also head over to the main office, talk with the people there. They can walk you through the whole thing."

"Ah, thanks boss."

As she waved him off, having just handed him this days pay, he walked away feeling…happy? It was a rare thing, and not the kind of happiness that came with making a little more money, or scoring at a bar. This was…longer? Like it wasn't the kind of happiness to stay the night but leave before you wake up. It's the kind that makes you breakfast, and wants a second date.

With his pay in one hand, and his PDA in another, Rhorm knew what he was going to do.

Learn more, get better pay, ask that surly policeman out-

-and live.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Usla
Edin System, Edin 2, Edin City

Usla was hungry, but that was normal. The orphanage often didn't have enough to consistently feed the children, nor did those in charge care to do so.

Still, Usla stacked boxes. She stacked boxes and moved crates and all these other things that hurt her thin frame because if she did, she would live, and might get to eat.

If she didn't, then the gangers pulled the trigger and left her body in the sewers. She had seen it before, in the kids that collapsed.

Like the others who had been here longer, she had learned. Learn that sweet spot in terms of effort, where you move and work fast enough that they don't whip you, but slow enough that you don't expend what little energy you have left.

It was in the middle of doing this that she caught some of the conversation two guards were having.

"Hear about the new governor? Heard his Commander is cracking down, ey?"

"Yeah. Doubt he'll do much. Sure, he'll raid a few smaller hideouts, take out some small gangs, and say he 'fixed crime!'.

"HAH! Then he'll come looking at the Mandaga family, get paid, and nothing changes. Great, huh?"

"Just about." The two of them laugh this ugly laugh. Their voices were slightly slurred, the space around them smoky with the scent of spice.

Usla made sure to keep her breath held around them. Some others had gotten addicted just by being around the smoke too much. They never lasted.

Before she could continue with her work, a torrent of smoke rushed into the room. It poured in every which way, covering the entire room.

Coughing, she dropped to the floor, hiding behind the crates she had been pushing as blaster fire rang out.

She sat there for what felt like hours, cowering and shaking until the smoke cleared and the blasters stopped.

Even then, she didn't open her eyes until a soft voice rang out.

"Hello, child. Are you okay?"

Tentatively looking up, face still hidden behind her arms, she beheld the soldier in front of her.

"W-who are you?"

"My name is Commander Kaela Grant." Said the woman, as she removed her helmet. "I'm the leader of the Imperial Army Forces here. We're here to save you all."

"R-really?"

"Yes, child." The soft smile persisted, and for the first time in forever, Usla felt safe.

She fell asleep crying in the Commander's arms, and even in that state refused to let go.

The Commander herself was confused, as she had only approached the situation as her Alderaanian family would have. She hated to use their techniques, but she did not know how to comfort a child.

"Soldier, how did you all miss her?"

Checking where Usla had been hiding, he reported back swiftly. "The crate she hid behind held signal dampening armor plates. They likely hid her biosigns, as they are already low to begin with.

Looking down at the girl in her arms, the Commander sighed. She was only here to witness the final Edin City criminal den get demolished.

This wasn't what she signed up for.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zombies? What the actual fuck!?

I sat in my quarters aboard my L-99, now named Mindan Stream, as I took in the latest report from the Commander.

An honest to god zombie horde. At least, that's what it looks like. The bodies had been collected and are in the process of being analyzed, but they sure as shit look like zombies. A little more put together, since they still have all their limbs and there's little sign of decay, but still.

Tapping out my orders, I ensure my message conveys the fact that this investigation must be done with both utmost secrecy and caution.

After that, I take a look at the other reports. Grant has raided a total of 113 pirate holdouts, with Veers bombing the shit out of an additional 34 from orbit. Every major crime family has been either completely destroyed or turned into shells, which themselves are on the way out.

Good. Very good. I restrain the urge to cackle maniacally.

Sense of amusement.

I flick her on the nose, earning a startled yelp.

Sense of betrayal.

"Heh, it's what you get."

Ignoring the further emotions Mugwuffin sends over our totally not a force bond, I focus back in.

With the major criminal elements gone, new ones are going to attempt to take their place. While I've managed to fill that power vacuum fairly well with my own forces and reforms, I can't do it all.

Which is where the wonderful world of mercenaries comes in.

I sent a message out to Darna, asking her to get in contact with the Loyu family. They had been working as mercs for the Guild, and occasional instructors at the Guild classes. I wanted them in Edin if possible, to hunt down the leaders of any growing gangs to keep the underworld in turmoil.

If I could pull this off, it would give me time to situate the Guild on Edin while new gangs that form collapse without their hastily chosen leaders. Once that happens, Guild affiliated mercs can start taking bounties and protecting towns and traders, pushing back against the underworld.

It wouldn't be nearly as clean as Minda, since Minda barely had a criminal population when I took over leaving little contest against the Guild. Edin, however, is chock full of 'em.

With all this, if I could consolidate control over Edin 2, I could start pushing back against the pirate holdings across the system. It would be especially easy, since Veers recently took Belt Haven. Hundreds of pirates and their vessels captured or killed because, well, that's what happens when a fleet just shows up out of nowhere with more ion torpedoes than the pirates collective brain cells.

A knock on my door. Through Mugwuffin, I can see Oioro's force signature. Handy ability.

"Sir? The podium is ready for your speech."

"Good. I'll be right out."

Yup. Another speech. Fuckin hate it, but I can't not do it. The people of Edin have undergone some pretty violent whiplash since the government went from crime infested bureaucracy to decently competent reformist.

The problem with this speech? It was the dead of winter here. That meant snow and cold and ice, which were not the kinds of conditions people wanted to deal with just to listen to a speech.

Thank god for space heaters, cause I just had a couple dozen sprinkled throughout the plaza I was speaking at.

To combat the cold myself, I had my outfit modified. The cape had been changed into one of those big jackets that can be worn like a cape. A nice, white synthetic fur now lines it, and the rest of my outfit incorporates more whites and greys. My helmet stays unchanged for the most, since its internal systems make it harder to replace than the rest.

Stepping out of my ship and onto the podium, I survey the crowd before me. A veritable menagerie of people, bundled up but thankfully not shivering cause of the heaters.

Scanning their faces with my eyes and their emotions through Mugwuffin, I could tell they were cautious at best. For all that I had done in the past weeks to help them, cultural distrust of authority was something that had been ingrained into Edin's people for decades. And now it was up to me to prove them wrong.

"People of Edin. I am Governor Las Mola, Governor of the Minda system, and now Governor of Edin as well. As you have seen, in the past weeks I have made a concerted effort to eradicate the criminal presence here, and have brought in construction crews to help build new housing and remodel the city."

I paused, gauging the crowd's reaction. Nothing bad, but nothing good.

"In the coming months, more changes will be brought forward. These will include educational opportunities, new businesses, a better economy, and more. The Guild, a Mindan organization for merchants and mercenaries, will be settling in to help stabilize things. Many of you will find better work, and housing for those below the poverty line is being established. Once the work here in Edin City is finished, it will be renamed, and the next major city will be focused on. We expect to be done with all the major population centers by the end of this year, or the start of next year. I invite you to find out more details at the new Edin Imperial site on your PDAs, which are being distributed across the city at any aid center. Just provide an ID chit to gain access. If you do not have an official ID, please inform the aid workers, they can help you gain identification and aid. Now, as you can see, we have a second podium here for those who wish to ask questions."

And there was a second podium. Set up in the front of the crowd, it was flanked by army troopers to ensure that there wasn't fighting to get to ask a question first.

To absolutely no one's surprise, people were hesitant to ask any questions. Still, I waited, figuring I'd give them a minute or two.

Right before it got awkward, a Pantoran man stepped forward onto the podium, eyeing the troopers warily. He cleared his throat for a minute, before asking a question I really should've expected.

"Uhh…what exactly is the Guild?"

I hummed. "Honestly, I feel rather foolish for not having explained that in more detail. To summarize, the Imperial Guild of Industry, Commerce and Protection is an organization I started in the Minda system that helps merchants, mercenaries and entrepreneurs with their businesses. They help post bounties, ensure that parties keep to their contracts, regulate commerce, and more. If you want to start a business, get into the bounty game, become a merchant or more, the Guild is where you go. They offer classes, loans, and assistance for small fee's and the like."

"Ah…thank you." he said, quickly stepping off the platform.

After him, the dam broke, and I spent the next 45 minutes answering all kinds of questions from citizens. They ranged from questions on crime policy, work opportunities, new business, and more. I even got a small child asking me if she could pet Mugwuffin.

Mugwuffin was enthusiastic.

At the end, I left exhausted, having laid out the plans for new districts in the city, better living conditions, and every kind of question imaginable.

Of course, I had more work afterwards.

Fuck me.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi there folks! Tossing another one out there. Wanted to touch on the viewpoints of some Edin natives, flesh out the world of Edin City and how its kinda the worst. No Nar Shaddaa, but still pretty nasty.

Anyways, as always, feedback is appreciated.

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller

 

[Freefaller]

Chp-32: Hazardous Offers

Lab-Tech Bori Fulto
Minda System, Ugea, Accordia, R&D Bio-Lab

The new bio lab was not nearly as nice as Bori had wanted. His previous places of employment, both having been mega-corporations, had larger, more advanced and extensive labs. In comparison, the recently built bio lab in the Mindan R&D building was mediocre.

Sure, much of the necessary equipment was available, but it was usually older models. Reliable, fully functioning and well within acceptable limits, but lacking both the conveniences and in some cases functionality that more advanced equipment would allow for.

It was truly unfortunate. Minda gave him a great deal more freedom in how he worked, yet lacked the technology to let him do what he wanted. Still, the governor was generous, and if good results were produced he could see more advanced technologies being shipped in.

He could imagine it now. The latest bio-readers, dissection droids, maybe even a-

"Imagining a lab again?"

He shot a glare at his companion, scoffing. "I was simply noting the lab's lack of advanced equipment, and how that will hinder our efforts."

"Yeah, we could do with some better gear. Still, we have a job to do." said Gorlan, an irritable smirk marring his face.

The Nikto was standing next to him as the two pulled on their hazmat suits. Bori's was standard issue, as he was human. Gorlans, on the other hand, was reinforced at certain points to account for the spikes and claws that were naturally occurring amongst his species.

Having finished suiting up, they step through the airlock, the hiss of the sterilization agent being sprayed all too familiar. Entering the lab, he takes a second to look around.

As usual, the hazard lab is sparse. A large loading bay in the back for larger cargo(pressurized, of course), a multitude of tables, and a center spine that holds modules for most of the tech they use.

From the cargo bay, a LECA steps forward. Unlike the weapons those hyperactive brutes up in Engineering, the LECA here was elegant. Shining white plates of sterilized metal covered every inch of the machine, with only the tiniest gaps to be found for the joints. This kit, the Bio-Hazard module, was built for the sole purpose of moving around hazardous materials or in hazardous environments. It forsook weapons and heavy armor in exchange for being internally sealed with its own miniature life support, and some tractor beams attached to the shoulders.

As the mech walks in, it carries in its hands a sealed box. Setting it down on one of the tables, the LECA steps back, making its way towards the cargo bay. There would be many more bodies to transfer in the coming hours and days.

"Alright then, let's see what we're working with here." stated Gorlan, pressing a button on the box's side. As it opens, they get their first real look at the individuals that had attacked some troopers at site 8-12-F.

Bori was already typing into his PDA as Gorlan started listing characteristics. "Human, male, approximate age seems to be mid-30s. Copious blaster burns, large enough to only have come from the LECA that was on site for the attack. Skin is dark grey, not natural."

He lifts one of the arms carefully. "Blood under the fingernails looks old. Possible signs of struggle before becoming…this." Grabbing a scanner, he starts moving it up and down the body.

"Necrosis…minimal. Subject was alive when they became like this, and alive after." As the scanner results came back, Gorlan looked a mite surprised.

"No signs of mechanical augmentation. Muscle seems…denser. Bori, take a look at this."

Studying the scanner, Bori hums. "We need a more in depth scan, but the muscles seem unusually dense."

As they prepped the larger full body scanner, Bori ruminated. Abnormally dense muscle, to the point that the body should be twice as bulky.

As the full body scanner whirred, Gorlan turned to him. "This man should be at least twice as bulky as he is now with that kind of muscle mass. Muscle density in humans does contribute itself to a leaner build but…"

"This kind of density is abnormal, to say the least." finished Bori.

"Yeah. Some kind of bioaugmentation, to be certain."

"Most likely, yes. But that doesn't explain the lack of mental faculties displayed by the subjects."

"True" agreed Gorlan. "Even if they weren't sound of mind, basic instincts should have made them run when confronted by an armed LECA."

"Yes. While they likely didn't understand what was killing them, they would have understood on a primal level that something there was killing them, something their minds should have run from."

By then, the scanner was finished. Looking at the results, it was…incredible, to say the least.

"There seemed to be a force keeping the muscles as dense as they are." stated Bori, intrigued by this discovery. "But how? The body is dead, there should be no movement or energy being expended to keep them this way."

"Nano-droids, maybe? They would certainly be small enough, and they need specialized scanners to detect."

"No, not likely. Nano-droids are manufacturing machines. They don't function well within life forms. Don't you remember that one incident during the Clone Wars, where a man infected with Nano-Droids exploded in the Jedi Temple? Nano-droids are strictly regulated, and any code that makes them interface with the living has…explosive results."

Gorlan pushed his discomfort at the mention of Jedi away, and focused. "So, Nano-droids are unlikely, and there's no augs keeping these muscles like this. What can it be then?"

Bori sighed, frustrated at the situation. "I…don't know."

As they ruminated, a ping came through on both their PDA's. Sharing a look, they check their messages, before looking at each again.

"The lab they found seems more like a church. I mean, idols? Tomes? Rubber balls? Circles of blood?"

"Primitive tribes and species often equate medicine to their gods, do they not?"

"Yeah, but that's usually because they don't know why the plants they eat do what they do. In this case, they clearly knew what they were doing, at least to some extent."

The two of them looked at the pictures, and at the readings. Back and forth, back and forth.

"You don't think…" said Gorlan, eyes widening in fear.

"It could be…" replied Bori, suddenly nervous.

"Lets just…send this up the chain. I think this is a little beyond our paygrade."

"...Agreed…"

"...after all, the Inquisitorius is not to be trifled with."
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Commodore Ife Veers
Edin System, Belt Haven, Gladiator-II-Class Star Destroyer Theorem

The conquering of the Belt Haven had been a pitibly easy task. Without the stream of more powerful, Crowns related ships the Haven had been weaker than ever before.

With the power of a flotilla and an inordinate amount of ion torpedoes launched from some recently acquired Swarm-class missile boats, the vast majority of the pirate ships had been disabled in port, with those still crewed turned into floating wrecks as they tried to escape.

After that, it had been up to the clean up crews to get the rest done. And get it done they had.

A few LECAS had locked down the port, while kill teams had scoured the rest of the base, arresting those who surrendered, and putting down those who didn't.

There were more bodies than prisoners by the end of it all.

Now she was overlooking the asteroid as transports jumped in, filled with supplies and mechanics whose job was to make sure the base was retrofitted into its future purpose as Edin's tradeport. It was certainly large enough to fit the role, and came with a dock already. Given a few months, it was certain to become a centerpiece of Edins economy.

"How is the Lucrehulk doing?" she asked, seemingly to the air.

"The retrofits are currently underway. It will be fully ready within five months, and operational as a flight academy within three, Ma'am." replied Hrax, the Mirialian woman tapping away at her PDA without even looking at her.

The two of them had come to this sort of arrangement over the last 6 or so months. Hrax was an incredible multitasker, and Ife pursued efficiency in her command. This meant that they rarely looked at each other when she passed orders down the chain, with Hrax constantly running numbers, managing other parts of the ship, and more.

"And about the list of ships for the new Edin system defense fleet?"

"The Governor regrets to inform you that due to projects on the ground, he could only authorize a total of 30 million credits for new ships and crew. He also said that the TIE Patroller factories are at least another 4 months away from beginning production at the earliest."

"Understood. I will have a list sent soon."

"Also, Ma'am, a message has come through for you. It's from the new Sector Admiral, Forun Heeter."

"Understood." was the only thing Ife said in response, already pulling up the message on her PDA. Admiral Heeter was a damn sight better than his predecessor, having actually put in the work to improve the sector with what he had. Still, she doesn't really know him, so in her mind had yet to prove himself.

Checking the message, she worked to not allow a single iota of shock to show itself on her face. The message had all the trappings you would expect from military politics, a combination of politeness and subtle mentions of the sender's authority over the receivers.

What really shocked her was the offer made. The Admiral was impressed by her work, and was offering a position in the Sector Group. It wouldn't be a direct promotion to Rear Admiral, like she wanted, but it was an opportunity. She would be bringing in the Theorem to work as support for the operations conducted by the VSD's, and could therefore earn more reputation in said operations. It was the next rung on her climb to the top.

It was not a rung she trusted.

The first clue was that she would not be assigned command of one of the existing or soon to be repaired VSDs. Instead, the Theorem would be dragged away from the Mindan flotilla. This could signal that the Admiral was trying to weaken Minda, or sow discord between the Governor and herself.

The second clue was the language. It was just like the political speech of most higher ranking military officers. Therefore, the Admiral was not likely doing this solely because he believes her to be worthwhile. There are games afoot.

Normally, she would have taken the offer regardless. Naval politics are a game she has been learning, and would have to adapt to if she wanted to raise herself. But this was different. Minda, and now Edin were expanding. If a place is prospering, there will be those who wish to see it fall. That means opportunities for her to grow.

With a few taps, she sends a response. A well worded way of simply saying that she would like some time to think about the offer. Stalling, really.

Ife looked back out the window of the Theorem. It was a waiting game now. To see which side would bring her more value.

At the end of the day, the Navy was a tower. One she would stand at the top of.

No matter what.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi there folks! Sorry for the unusual delay, but I only now just realized how important planning chapters is to me. I usually write down my chapter plans in a little notebook in the middle of math class, since my math teacher is a luddite and we don't use computers in that class. Thing is, I don't have class Friday, and I ran out of the chapters I had already planned. I legitimately could not bring myself to plan out new chapters unless I was in class. Thankfully, I pulled through and planned this one out yesterday, and am writing it now before I drive my ass 45 minutes to college.

Now, it seems that overnight a lot of y'all got heated enough to bring down the wrath of the gods. Fuckin wild. Not even 50 chapters in yet.

But, I figure I should explain how the whole blasters vs bullets thing will go down in this story.

Within the confines of Governors Gambit, the story will go as such. Blasters are more efficient because of ammo and logistical chains, while slugthrowers, given advancement, can fulfill more advanced and specialized roles due to exotic ammo types and, depending on the weapon, long ranges, projectile speed and high penetrating power. Again, these are the more advanced weapons that will take a while to develop. There's a reason the railgun AA isn't being used that often. For all its power, it needs special ammo that holds an ion charge for it to pierce shields. Only the high projectile speed combined with the charge allow it to turn fighters to dust once they're in range.

Tl:dr, blasters efficient at scale, slugthrowers useful at specialized roles.

Now, onto the actual fun stuff.

Fleet building! The Edin system needs defenses, especially because it's got a much larger criminal problem than Minda. While some of the Mindan forces will support Edin, it is preferable that whatever you come up with can handle its own.

Remember, your budget is 30 mil. If the ship is Imperial, and it hopefully is, then you can assume at max a 10% discount from requisitions, and even then only on the stuff that isn't super high priority. If you order an ISD, there will be no discount.

Have fun, and try not to get the Hammer of the Gods brought down again, pretty please?

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller

 

[Freefaller]

Chp-33: Warning Signs

Profits were going down, which was good. Kinda.

See, before the whole mess with The Crowns and the Consortium and Edin, keeping profits down was a part of my goal. Invest enough into Minda to turn it into a standout of the Myto sector without actually standing out. That is to say, create a robust economy and fairly sized military, while not drawing overt attention.

So long as the Commandant was happy and the web of greater Imperial politics didn't care about me, I was content.

Then Edin happened.

Now I need the profits, so I pulled out some of the money sinks. Not all of them, but the R&D budget was shaved down, as were certain business grants. Specifically for those businesses that are already crowded, like electronics stores which have been popping up like crazy. This cuts down on costs, while encouraging people to try for other types of businesses.

Like the pet store I buy most of Mugwuffins toys from. She really likes this little pet droid that can play simple games with her while I work. Very efficient.

Regardless, I was currently in my newly renovated office in Edin. It was similar to the old governor's office, but lacking the obscene amounts of gold and paintings. I had instead gone for a more deep, dark tone. Dark wood paneling, coupled with smooth chrome metal linings gave the place a sophisticated appeal.

On my desk sat, like many reports, a piece of flimsi. More eco-friendly than paper, the report that say on my desk detailed the defense fleet that Commodore Veers had requested for the Edin system. It was decently sized, and actually smaller than I wanted. In this regard, it would end up costing less than the allotted budget, but there were other ways to spend that money.

The fleet was as such:
(with discount)

• 1 Vindicator-Class Heavy Cruiser = 9,360,000
• 4 CR90 Corvettes(refitted) = 4,950,000
• 5 Raider-II-Class Corvettes = 13,500,000
• 5 Gamma-Class Assault Shuttle = 3,825,000
• 4 Zeta-Class Heavy Cargo Shuttle = 380,000
• 54 TIE/ln Space Superiority Fighter = 2,916,000
• 16 Alpha-Class Xg-1 Star Wings = 1,800,000
• Total = 27,945,000

It was a versatile fleet, to say the least. The Vindicator carried the bulk of the firepower that made it both a deterrent against attacks on Edin 2 and a hammer to crush particularly whiny pirates with. The CR90's had come as a surprise, but seeing the retrofits she had wanted done to them, I could understand. The extended middle section allowed the Corvette to field up to an entire squadron of TIE's. Of course, she had instead opted to field Star Wings.

This decision was outlined in her report. She had stated that it was cheaper to utilize cheaply modified corvettes as patrol stations until we could set up more permanent outposts. This way, not only did the 4 Star Wings stationed aboard each CR90 have a home base, but that home base could also respond to threats in the region.

The Raider-II was somewhat obvious. Cheaper than the Vigil but just as fast, it also carried half a squadron of TIE's, giving it flexibility in its patrol duties.

The rest of the list was obvious enough even I could understand. Assault shuttles for boarding, cargo shuttles for logistics. Easy enough, and would be supplemented by local logistics.

Logistics was actually one of the concerns that had come across my desk, and I struggled with it even as I sent out the orders for the Edin fleet. It would likely arrive within the next month or two.

Logistics were draining the bank, and kept draining the bank. For every new ship added, I had to accommodate the crew, the ship's maintenance, everything. They were like permanent linear debuffs that stacked for each new shiny piece of gear I got, and I had to keep leveling up to stave off the effects.

With that said, there was a way to keep ahead.

Contracts.

Specifically, a nearby subsidiary of CEC had approached me with an offer. They were a producer of internal electronics and wiring that went into the many ships built on Corellia. Minda produced a great deal of ores that their refineries could make great use of, and we had a trade fleet that could drop off ores on the way to the Core.

Thing is, if we dedicated the amount of space and ore they wanted to our trade fleet, that would leave precious little to go to the Core. Make no mistake, this contract alone is more lucrative than the trade fleet, but it leaves Minda with fewer options.

So, I decided to use that remaining 3 mil. Specifically, to buy 14 BFF-1 Bulk Freighters to augment the trade fleet. These budget beasts were a mere 150,000 credits, only needed 10 crew, and carried 4 Class-A cargo containers, giving it a solid 100,000 metric tons of cargo capacity.

This gave us the ability to not only ship the ore necessary, but to scale up shipping. Recently, a great deal of ore had been piling up in warehouses on account of the fact that while production had been increasing, sales had not. In fact, with The Crown, they had decreased. It would be a bit before they rose to normal, and in the meanwhile I had to find a way to deal with the excess.

The CEC contract was the perfect way. They would be paying .07 above market price, which was around 107% of the total value. Considering we sold the ores locally at .02, and at .05 in the Core, it was a solid deal that gave them priority. We could ship them a million metric tons of ore every 3 months near the beginning of the trade fleet's voyage. That space would then be loaded up with their products to be shipped down to Corellia, which was already on the route anyways.

This contract netted Minda around 40,000,000 every 4 months or so. It was decently profitable, and allowed me to pour all this remaining fleet money into something that would be reasonable.

That 20 mil all went towards Edin's reconstruction, as did a significant portion of Minda's profits. After putting money into social services, government salaries, military expenses, and the sector tithe, the total profit produced by Minda was around 90,000,000 every month. 50 was going into Edin alone, and I just tossed 30 into Edin's defence. Now, I just have to figure out where to toss the remaining 10 mil in a way that doesn't arouse suspicion.

A ping. A report. My printer chugs for a second before a piece of flimsi is deposited onto my desk.

Reading over it, I grimace.

Those infected people had attacked, and this time it was more serious. A small horde had attacked some patrolmen on their speeders. Only one of them survived, and told tale of a band of these things popping up out of nowhere on their route, jumping at them and tearing apart the other two in mere seconds.

After a few seconds of bemoaning the fact that I lived in interesting times, I sat up, locked in.

This was an opportunity. Not just to waste money sending those soldiers' families good military Death Gratuity or the programs put in place to assist said families further, no.

This was an opportunity to waste money expanding the ground forces even further. More troops, more vehicles, more patrols.

Almost made me want to thank these monsters.

Angermalicediscontent

Yeah buddy, almost, but not quite.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sabine Wren
Minda System, Ugea, Accordia

They had left Forged in Orbit some time ago, brought to the surface by a transport shuttle. Upon landing, they had split from the main plaza, planning to meet back up in a few hours. Ezra and Zeb had gone off to buy stuff, and likely snoop around. Hera and Kanan instead went on a proper date.

Guess it takes multiple near death experiences to finally get together. Well, that and a good planet that doesn't care about human/non-human relations. Quite rare.

Sabine had chosen to wander around, looking for interesting sights. She had gawked at the gaming terminals, different PDA's, and the abundance of electronic and conventional signage. Even the enforcer's were polite and clean.

She had enjoyed her time at the Mindan Public Art Gallery, where she won a free paint contest and got her spray painted mural of a Loth-wolf howling at the moon put up on their walls. Even got a little medal out of it.

Very nice.

Now she was wandering back to the meet up point, having spent all her time admiring the work at the gallery. She passed by a bevy of interesting places and peoples. She even crossed the bridge, walking through the Imperial Island. The Tower there was actually good looking, with a long, slightly slanted body and a variety of beams making they're way down onto the ground. Each was etched with the names of those who have fallen in the line of duty.

Currently, only one pillar had many names, and they only reached to right above her head, but still.

It was a rare commemoration of life from the usually callous Empire. It also served to inflame her.

Here was Minda, living proof that the Empire could do good, could do right by its people. That it was a nation with the capability to function correctly and treat its citizens as they ought to be treated.

And yet, the vast majority of the Empire was a horribly oppressive dictatorship.

Her night slightly soured, she trekked back to the meet up point, mind spinning.

Upon arrival, she only spotted Kanan and Hera, hand in hand.

"Hey guys. Where're the other two?" she asked, leaning against a wall.

Hera sighed. "We don't know, but given how they are, I doubt they're up to any good."

Kanan gave a slight smile. "Let's give them the benefit of the doubt, ey? This place is pretty nice, it's more likely they got caught up in one of those game centers we passed."

Sabine snorted, remembering those places. "Yeah, probably challenging each other to the same few games on repeat to see who's better. I swear, they have no sense o-"

At that moment, the aforementioned missing persons appeared from around the corner, eyes sketchy and posture hushed.

Immediately, they were all on alert.

"What is it? Are you ok?" Asked Hera, approaching them, worry etched into her face.

"We're fine, just fine" said Ezra, "we just…saw some things."

A groan seemed to emanate from Kanan. "Don't tell me you went somewhere your not supposed to!"

"Nothin like that, I swear!" exclaimed Zeb, "We were just checkin out the trainyards, and we saw something wild!"

"Yeah!" agreed Ezra, pushing what seemed to be a newly bought PDA in their faces. Being Ezra, it could just as easily have been stolen.

The images shown were of small bipedal walkers with fully articulated arms and legs. Yellow in color, the walkers seemed to be equipped with some sort of tractor beam technology, as they were able to remove and hold nearly a third of a large train bound cargo container internal cargo, and transfer it over to multiple speeder trucks in less than a minute.

All the while, a team of what seemed to be engineers were taking notes, while another walker and some StormTroopers stood by. The other walker, however, was what surprised them. It was armed with an enlarged blaster sporting many small rotating barrels, a projectile launcher of some kind on one shoulder, and some kind of antenna on the other.

"Some kind of new weapon? We didn't really hear about this, did we?" asked Hera, studying the video.

"No, we didn't. We should talk about this back in the Ghost. It'll be safer with all the upgrades it's getting, after all." Replied Sabine, worried about potential onlookers.

It was only as they made their way back to the shuttle, passing through an alleyway, did Sabine notice something. An extra weight in her pack that hadn't been there before. Taking out the weight, she stopped.

"Guy's…I didn't have this before."

"Looks like a recorder of some kind." said Ezra, scanning the rest of the alleyway with his eyes.

Pressing the button, a voice scratches out. It's deep and high, smooth and rough, a million cadences all at once. The kind of obfuscation that's impossible to cut through.

'The Web see's you, SPECTRES. You have behaved yoURSElves well. Your compatriots aboard the station have stayed out of trouble. HOwEVer, it seems two of you have been snooping around. The Web does not take kindly to this. OnLY The goodwill of your space bound fellows saves you this time. There will not be a NEXT time.'

With that ominous message, the device smokes and crackles, forcing her to drop it. With a final fizzle, it dies.

"The…Web?" asks Zeb, hand on his hidden holster.

"Seems like Sidheth owes us an explanation." growls Kanan, already backing out of the alleyway.

With that, they make their way back to the shuttle bay.

There were many questions. But the question of Minda's Web would remain unanswered for some time to come.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi there folks! Sorry for the late(early?) post, but I procrastinated. No biggie, since I know some of you FREAKS are still up late. Don't you have work or something? Fuckin hell.

Anyways, setting up some stuff in the chapter, a lot on finance that I could probably condense but don't really feel like.

Of course, the thing your all actually here for. With an upcoming expansion of ground forces, Las will be paying out the ass for stuff. With a mil set aside for troop requisition and logistical support, the total budget for ground vehicles and the like will settle around 9 million credits.

The vehicles already in use are:

• 1 AC-AT
• 6 LA-AG's(beam weaponry switcher for rapid fire laser cannons)
• 40 K79 transports
• 20 Trexler Armored transports

Aside from that, remember that the enemy being hunted is using guerilla tactics, so plan accordingly. Wow, this is really like a quest, except I have full power and am just milking y'all for ideas. Incredible.

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller

 

[Freefaller]

Chp-34: New Perspectives

Usla
Edin System, Edin 2, Edin City, Edin City School Uplift School #3

School. Usla had heard of it, but never actually seen one. Much of her time had been spent working, so learning was something quite new to her. Yet, since her freedom near the beginning of the year, she had been attending one. And now, smack dab in the middle of the year, she was enjoying it so much it was hard to put into words.

The teacher at the front of the classroom was a Toong man by the name of Professor Guary, shorter in stature. He was kinda funny looking, because his head was where his torso should be, but no one laughed.

They were all enamored by the holoprojector. Today the class was learning more words, as they did just about every day.

'Literacy is a crucial skill for any developing sentient!' was what the Professor always said. Today, they were doing something a little different.

The holoprojector zoomed in to show what looked like a city.

"This is Edin city, where we are right now. Can anyone spell the word city?"

After a few seconds of hard thinking, more than half the class shot their hands up, and the professor started calling on students. Student after student got it wrong, usually by just a letter or two, before he got to her.

"Can you spell City for me, Usla?"

"Uh…" she faltered for a second, before giving it a shot. "C…I…T…Y?"

He smiled. "That is correct!" turning back to the projector, the words Edin City appearing over the model.

The picture zoomed out, showcasing the environment surrounding the city.

"Now" said the Professor, "Edin City sits on top of a large plateau. Can anyone guess how plateau is spelled?"

Some tried, but it was a new word, and none could get past the T.

"Good tries, all of you. Plateau is spelled P, L, A, T, E, A, U. Note this down in your notebooks, please. It will be on your homework sheets tonight."

"Surrounding the plateau are many fields, with large, deep canyons and ravines cutting through the landscape."

The words canyon, ravine, field, and landscape popped up on the projector, and the Professor explained them. In her flimsi notebook, she jotted down the words in that halting, scratchy handwriting that signaled her inexperience.

After the class was over, they turned in the worksheets from the previous day, and made their way out of the classroom. It was one of the new schools made for kids like her, who didn't know how to read or write. This one, specifically, was situated right in the Imperial Center, just a few streets away from the Capitol Building.

Waiting for her outside was an armed patrol speeder car, situated right in front of a larger speeder bus. While the other children were loaded up into the truck, making their way to their orphanages, she got in the speeder.

There were two StormTroopers sitting in it, one at the wheel and the other at the turrets controls.

"Hi guys!" she said with cheer, plopping down in the back seat.

"Hello Usla" said Jory, turning to look back at her, while Lira kept quiet, focused on the road ahead. "How was your day?"

"It was great! I learned how to spell city, and ravine, and landscape and-"

The rest of the ride was spent with her recounting the many things she learned that day, from numbers to math to letters. Jory, JY-992 and Lira, LA-102 listened to their charge yap about her day. It was quite the divergence from their regular day, but a welcome one.

After a few minutes, they arrived at one of the new government buildings. One of a series of apartment complexes built for Imperial personnel, officers, and their families.

Walking through the door, Usla made sure to greet everyone she saw.

"Hi Ekky!" "Hi Gobby!" "Hi Frei-" and so it went. Usla, after a period of shyness, had become very open and enthusiastic about meeting other people. Having lived without much positive social interaction, to finally find a place with so many people willing to treat her well, she had jumped headfirst into being an extrovert.

Up the elevator they went, eventually arriving at the penthouse suite of that particular building. After JY and LA left, having other duties to attend to, Usla went inside. It was spacious, covering a generous 3,500 square feet of space.

Past the foyer the room opened up into a mixed living/dining room, with a nice balcony. To the left was the entrance into the kitchen, with a smaller table for family dinners. A series of hallways connected the various bedrooms and bathrooms together, with the master bedroom being connected to a study and what used to be a library, which had been converted partially into a war room.

That was where Usla found Commander Kaela Grant, standing over a holoprojector, studying various red and white blips, with information tags noting them as known attack sites and patrol routes. On the side was her PDA, with an incomplete list of military equipment that was to be requisitioned for the ongoing investigation into the entities being dubbed Wretches, for their howling screams and insatiable rage.

"Hi Miss Kaela!" exclaimed Usla, rushing up to give her a hug. Taken by surprise, Kaela could do nothing but stand there, stammering and in shock. Eventually, she gave some hesitant pats on Usla's back.

"Hello…child. I didn't know you were getting back from school at this time."

"Yup!" beamed Usla, cheer evident.

"…" There was nought but silence for a few awkward moments, before Kaela continued.

"What was todays…subject?"

Usla's eyes gleamed. She loved learning, and talking about what she learned. "Today we learned how to spell city, ravine, and canyon! And, and, we started doing a thing the teachers call P.E! We got to run around and do weird exercises, and it hurt a bit but it was fun and-"

This deluge of information was nearly overwhelming to the poor commander. She was more used to tactical briefs, strategic planning, and overwhelming violence, not how children worked. Her childhood had been cold and miserable despite her family's wealth, so she had no frame of reference as to how a child should be raised, only a distant concept that her childhood had not been the norm.

"-and then Professor Guary told us about his time on Mon Calamari! He showed us pictures of the Whaladons there and all their pretty songs and how they eat huge swarms of fish and-"

Kaela barely stopped from wincing. The Whaladons were fully sentient, and hunted for sport and food by the Empire these days. While she did not particularly care for their plight, it would be best not to mention that fact to Usla.

"-they move so slowly, and are so big, that the fish never see them coming until it's too late and the Whaladon already has them in their jaws and-"

An epiphany. Slow movement. The Wretches were clearly created by someone, and were attacking patrols in a coordinated, planned manner. For all that these were mindless beasts, they're handlers clearly weren't the same. Any attempt to beef up security in one place, would lead to attacks elsewhere. Her original plan was to use the generous stipend given to her by the Governor to fund the requisition of a large amount of vehicles, both ground and air, to create an impenetrable wall, and annihilate the enemy.

But that would fail. They didn't even know where the enemy was, much less how to stop them. So they would find out. Take it slow. Sink small trackers into these enemies over time, to learn where their bases are. Set up some seemingly random outposts that slowly but surely encircle the enemies position. By the time they catch on, she could have them completely surrounded, and smoke out all of their locations at once.

Looking down at the babbling child, she smiles. It is a bloodthirsty thing, but Usla can tell its not aimed at her.

"Are you happy?" she asked, curious.

"Yes, little one. I am. Your stories have helped me. Thank you."

Her eyes seemed to gleam with the kind of happiness that has not seen the light of day in years.

"So I can tell you stories every day?"

"Correct."

In less than a second, Usla was back to hugging her. It was an odd motion, one she herself had never done. Yet, she had the strangest feeling that she should reciprocate. So she did.

It was nice.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Darna Sabrir
Minda System, Ugea, Accordia, Imperial Tower

Ever since having been assigned the position of Interim Governor of Minda, Darna's respect for the Governor had risen a great deal. The sheer amount of work he did on a day to day basis was daunting to say the least. Though, from the checklist he had left her, he was doing more than he needed to.

For example, he chose to personally double check tax forms, fee's, market fluctuations, and military reports, on top of the deluge of queries and the like that came from the Representative Council. With almost a year of functioning under their belt, the Council did its job well, discussing how best to keep the people happy, the economy afloat, and reporting their suggestions and agreements to the Governor just about every month. They did good work, but it was a lot of work, and because of how the Empire functioned, most of the decisions they ended up making required the Governor's approval.

This workload, for her, was increased on account of her extra duties, both official and unofficial. Officially, she was expanding the operations of the Guild, which she was. Better, clearer regulations. Rentable utility items, such as droid based cargo tugs and probes for miners. Longer term contracts with some mercenary companies that allowed for the expansion of patrols in certain parts of the system without expanding the MSDF. And, a program mentioned by the Governor in his notes, called the Rank System. It would give members of the Guild little plaques that went on their membership cards and files that ranked them at one of five tiers depending on whether or not they were independent, and if they were mercenaries, miners, or merchants.

WIth this in place, over time it would solidify the Guilds control through both the benefits afforded to each Rank, and the psychology of it all, associating the Ranks with experience and the legitimacy of the Guild.

Now, her unofficial work was just as important, but required far less paperwork. The Web. What had started as a group of people working to ensure their new home stayed safe had grown. Make no mistake, she would not allow it to go too far. She had seen the horrors MI had inflicted on the few who escaped their clutches.

No, The Web would remain an information network that warned off those Rebels who tried to cause trouble a few months ago, and could both investigate and report suspicious activity and hidden criminals. All it would take would be a scared citizen running to an Enforcers station because they saw some scary looking people go into a certain building. A few checks later, and lo and behold a drug den was found!

As she did all this work, cross checking Web reports with regular reports, sending out confirmation of some changes and revisions of others to infrastructure teams across the system, she received a report from the R&D teams.

The TIE/w, or TIE Whirlwind, had finished its final tests, and around 10 were ready to be shipped immediately. Production for these things would be small, and only really ready around the start of next year. Still, she had the shipping approved, as 5 were to remain in the capital, and another 5 sent to Edin as rewards for ace pilots out there working to push back pirates around the system.

R&D had also gotten ahold of some new schematics they were starting to research. As Interim Governor and Governor Mola's right hand, she had access. Looking through the files, she almost swore.

Grand Admiral Thrawn? He was sending a canceled project to mingle out here? Not only that, but there were orders to relocate some of the members of said defunct project's research team, including the head engineers and test pilots?

She sighed. The Rebels couldn't learn of this, since it would invite undue scrutiny, and the Empire's increased presence couldn't reveal the rebels, since it might lead back to her, and drag all of Minda down with them.

All the more reason to expand The Web. One of the ways she was looking at doing so was slaves. Specifically, freed slaves. Through some contacts, she could potentially start immigrating escaped/freed Hutt slaves in small numbers into the system. Since the Empire left the Hutts to their devices, it was largely irrelevant to the dictatorship what happened to them and their slaves.

With said slaves living the good life here, she would have all the more opportunities to expand The Web, since many would be open to doing some side work to keep their new home safe.

Again she sighed, only comforted by the warmth of her hot chocolate and the luxury of her new office.

At least the job came with some perks.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Brocso'ior'ovinor ' Oioro'
Edin System, Edin 2, Edin City, Capitol Building

This new assignment was undoubtedly one of her most interesting. Unlike the other places she had been meant to gather intel on, Minda, and more importantly Governor Mola, was very different.

Unlike the rest of the Empire she had witnessed, he acted with efficiency, competence and empathy, traits rarely found in the upper echelons of Imperial society and politics.

When Grand Admiral Thrawn had requested a spy be placed in Minda, she had jumped at the chance. There weren't many Chiss infiltrators placed throughout the wider galaxy, and she wanted the opportunity to get away from the Core she had been stuck in for years. While her time at the Theed university had been enjoyable to some degree, the years after had been a deluge of politics and bureaucracy that had numbed her.

Sure, she was still a loyal member of the Ascendancy, and her duty came before her personal life, but even to her well trained mind and soul, there was only so much tedium. Minda offered something of a reprieve. Her position had at one point become unnecessary, and only useful for background info gathering. Minda, however, promised intrigue. A governor that Thrawn himself was interested in.

Sitting at her new desk, going over files, she suddenly received a ping. Not on her PDA(very nice invention) or her terminal, but instead on her personal, Ascendancy approved communicator. It was very discreet, and rarely used outside of important news and orders.

Checking it quickly, the message was longer than usual, but equally shocking.

Thrawn was…gone. The Empire was staying quiet about it for now, but some event in the Lothal Sector had made the Grand Admiral disappear. Which was a very specific word to use, because if he was dead, ill or captured they would say so. But gone. Disappeared. No one knows where he went, and if they do she isn't considered worthy of the information.

This is…big. Thrawn was to be her direct superior here, who she would report discreetly to about the Governor's movements. Now, she was told to stay put and continue on as normal.

Which essentially just meant do her job as secretary, and send a report every 6 months.

The amount of work here was certainly lesser than her previous postings, and the environment was certainly better and friendlier to her non-human status.

She hummed, taking a sip of a Mindan chocolate drink. This place was nice. Quite-

The doors to her office opened, a lone, darkish blue rubber ball bouncing past.

-strange, but nice.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi there folks! Sorry that this one is coming out later in the day than I expected. My TIE fighter and TIE bomber lego sets just got here, and I built the both of them. Then I realized I had math homework and a test tomorrow, and I have a field trip for my 8:45 Geo class so I kinda did all that then finally saw that I hadn't finished this chapter.

Anyways, feedback is always appreciated.

Thanks for Reading!

-Freefaller

 

[Freefaller]

Chp-35: Action and Academies

Parsh Muree
Edin System, Edin 2, ten miles from Edin City

Speeding through the fields, Parsh felt free in a sense. As a patrol trooper, it was his job to patrol imperial lanes, cities and streets. In the past year, that meant riding along the increasingly cramped streets of Accordia as more and more people moved in, and markets crowded nearly every street. There had even been rumors the governor was planning on building elevated roads to allow traffic to flow.

Regardless, he along with many troopers had been transferred to Edin after The Crowns had been taken care of. Well, transferred was a strong word. He had volunteered to do this, after all. The pay was better, after all. And it's not like he had anything going on back on Minda, so it was an opportunity to see the sights.

And the sights were glorious. Rolling fields stretched for miles, broken up only by the looming plateaus that dotted the landscaped. Off in the distance he could see the light blue reflection of Lake Richter, which itself stretched for miles.

The wind felt great, even through his helmet, and the feel of the 74-Z speeder bike was incredible. He was more used to the C-PH, which had a smaller, stockier and more powerful profile both for the sharper turns needed by a city, and to help survive collisions. It also held a suite of traffic alert tech to help navigate busy streets.

The 74-Z had none of that. It was built for speed and practically nothing else. Even the sensors were simpler, and the Commander had almost gone for the older BARC speeders. Only logistics and the optics of using Republic speeders had stopped her.

Rapidly moving along his route, his pistol felt heavier than usual against his leg. For good reason, to. Attached to the underbarrel was a small projectile launcher, given to many patrols. The point was to try and draw out the Wretches, and hit them with the small tracker, then make a getaway.
Honestly? He would have liked a different speeder for the job. While the 74-Z was certainly fast, it lacked any protections, and those Wretches seemed to pop up out of nowhere. Already, more than a dozen patrols had been attacked as close as 5 miles from Edin City, with around 10 deaths so far.

One small horde had even tried to attack the build site of the new IM-455 modular garrison that was to act as the new military operations center. It was to be placed on a plateau about 17 miles or so from Edin City. Of course, the horde failed, but still. He had been there.



The screams those things gave out while they died would haunt him for the rest of his days.

Again, he wished for a different, better speeder. There were rumors that the techies were cooking something up, but still. Now would have been preferable.

As he makes another turn, marking the halfway point of this patrol, the grass moves differently up ahead for just a half second. Anticipating a small animal, he adjusts by a foot just in case.

That adjustment saves his life.

Materializing out of seemingly nowhere comes a group of about 4 Wretches. Their species vary, from Human to Pantoran, yet they all share the same qualities. Rocky skin, wild eyes, and horrible screeches.

"Kriff!" he swears, swerving to get out of the way, just barely making it as the creatures lunge at him. They seem to scramble over each other to get to him, uncaring of their comrades or their own condition.

His hand flies down to the pistol, shakily pulling it out of its holster. A few bursts of speed give him distance, and he sends rounds down range. The mostly miss, and he curses his low blaster scores at the Mindan Academy. Finally, he manages a few solid shots, and takes his chance.

A small button pressed, a smaller tracker launched, embedding itself in one of the animals armpits. A few more blasts to slow them down again, and he was speeding off, not bothering to look back. His finger is already pushing down on the comm button.

As the comms officer answered, he internally swore to join up with the Academies extra classes as soon as he could. Or get in on that new College being built in Minda.

A desk job seemed quite cozy right about now.

—--------------------—--------------------—--------------------—--------------------—--------------------—---------

Bofi Sake
Edin System, Edin 2 Orbit, Edin Naval Academy

It had been a stressful time getting to where he was now, to say the least. The Mindan Milita Academy had been tough on its own, and its pilot program had been incredibly tough in its own ways. But, he had made it, gotten top of his class. For his next year of training, he would be stationed in the new Edin Academy, based out of a captured Lucrehulk. The half they were currently on served as the academy, housing staff, students and both the classrooms and TIEs for those in the pilot program. It was also situated close to the in-progress orbital base, as the Lucrehulk had been mostly dearmed.

The other half of the Lucrehulk functioned as a spaceport fort the Guild, loading and unloading cargo and trade across Edin 2. It was a temporary set up for both organizations, as the Academy needed its own space, and the Guild couldn't work as well in a place like this, but it would be some time more before the Belt Haven was turned into a proper station.

Snapping himself out of it, he focused on the podium some rows ahead of him. On it stood the one and only Commodore Veers, looking out over the assembled 200 or so students that were standing in one of the hangars. There were rumors of her name meaning she could be related to General Veers, but they were mostly thrown aside. The Militia Academy placed great emphasis on the fact that no branch was an island, and that inter-branch rivalries were often more hurtful than helpful.

It also helped that she was really cool. Multiple people in his previous class had talked about having a crush on the serious eyed short woman.

"Hello, Students. My name is Commodore Ife Veers. You who stand before me are those who have proven themselves worthy. Be you from Edin, Minda, or any other corner of the Galaxy, you have passed your classes in the Militia Academies as some of the best among your peers. This Academy will be different. It will test you to be better, stand above and lead beyond. It is your path forward.

For those of you in the officer course, you have been testing yourselves in the strategy sims that game terminals poorly try to copy. You have commanded digital armadas, and if you do well here, you may command your own ship someday.

Behind her a holo of a small fleet of ships was shown. "These are the ships of the new Edin System Defense Fleet. Many of you will graduate from here and take up positions on one of those ships. They are the stepping stones for your futures.

"To those of you in the pilot program, there is a different end goal in mind."

As she said that, a roaring sound filled the air, and two large TIE variants soared in. They had beefier, longer struts and wings. As they approached from behind the class, the machines seemed to flip on themselves, rotating near 90 degrees in half a second, and coming to a quick stop, hangar arms quick to drop in from above and latch onto the landing fighters.

"These are the TIE Whirwinds. They are the best TIE fighters in the Mindan/Edin arsenal, and reserved for the aces among aces. Those of you who do well may find them within reach someday in the future."

She looked out at them, taking in the excitement and fear, joy and nervousness.

"Worry not. It is not as impossible as it seems. I was able to get here, after all."

At their confused stares, she continued.

"My father is General Veers. My decision to join the Navy meant I was an easy target for foolish inter-branch rivalries and pointless political powerplays. It was a strugge to get assigned to a captains chair at all. And yet, here I am. In control of multiple flotillas ships. I have pushed through the challenges facing me, and through hard work and determination crawled to where I am. If I could ascend as far as I have with the challenges that faced me, I have no doubt that you can too."

"So, work hard, work together, and push beyond others' expectations of you. Your only true limit is your will to persevere."

At that, a wave of applause ruptured from the audience, echoing off the walls of the hangar. After that, the Commodore said some final words, and they were escorted to their dorms.

Bofi could tell. This was going to be the beginning of an incredible journey.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi there folks! Sorry for the late night update, but I had a huge math test today so I was feelin pooped all day afterwards. Thankfully, I plan my chapters like a week ahead so I was able to churn this out.

Not my best work, I can tell, but I'm tired as hell and can't sleep until I fulfill my demonic contract of one chapter per day. Also, I wanted to get some of these details out.

I initially had a tentative Leia POV planned for this chapter, but I couldn't come up with any relevant info or actions for her.

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller

 

[Freefaller]

Chp-36: Anger and Apathy

Kaela Grant
Edin System, Edin 2, EdinFront Imperial Garrison Base, 17 Miles from Edin City

Kaela paced, impatience welling up within her as she watched the tracker data out of the corner of her eyes.

The holo table in the center of the room displayed the tracking data they were receiving from the various Wretches they had tagged. All the wretches moved, quite fast in fact, after they were tagged.

Outside of visible range, they moved fast enough that the analysts concluded that a speeder or ship of some kind had to be moving them. Except, scanners weren't picking up any signals. High altitude drones spied on the tracked wretches as they left the scene of their attack, but any groups seemed to disappear into thin air. Some sort of cloaking tech, since the trackers were still there.

The trackers themselves all lost contact after entering the Dala Canyon, a massive canyon range that covered the eastern third of the continent. Edin City was built some 30 miles southwest of the nearest entrance.

All the trackers lost signal once they got deep enough in the canyon.

She was barely containing herself. Her heart had raced when Edin was given to the governor. So many operations! So much combat! She had personally entered the fray in some of the operations for the hell of it, and it was some of the most fun she had ever had.

But then came the Wretches. Hiding away, too sneaky to get much on them, leaving her in the command chair for months. The Governor didn't say anything, because he was an understanding sort and had a bevy of other things to worry about, but it irked her to no end.

The beast wanted blood, and she did not have it. The trackers were not strong enough to emanate a signal once inside the twisting valleys and deep caves of the canyon, but any larger trackers would be undoubtedly noticed by whoever was orchestrating these attacks.

Again the beast raged, and again she clamped down. She wanted nothing more than to rip something to shreds, but to lose control now would be folly.

Going along with her plan, she had used a very small amount of the budget given to her for new vehicles and troops. She had invested more into droid scouts and probe droids, and had them deployed to gain more accurate topographical information. This was, to the public view, needed to more accurately assess the usefulness of the surrounding environment for new industries, cities, and other expansions.

In reality, it was the only step of her plan that she could take at the moment. Since trackers failed and the drones and droids could not detect the wretches after they turned invisible(save for the trackers), she could not identify where the enemies' bases were.

So, trap them with wide jaws, like Usla had mentioned. The droids would very lightly probe the canyon, while instead working around it. As the enemy attacked them, the sites of attack would give her analysts data points that could help in establishing a rough idea of the enemy's territory.

In terms of new vehicles, she had invested some more of the money into expanding the fleet of K79's, Trexlers, LA-AG's and AC-AT's. Some new Swift Assault 5's were added to deal with any larger problems or criminal holdovers as well.

The rest of the money had gone back into Edin's development and R&D. The techies were working on some landspeeder designs and she wanted that sped up. Any advantage given over the Wretches was one that she would gladly take. So long as she got closer to the slaughter, she was happy.

It pained her to know that an Inquisitor had been summoned. They would surely get to be in the thick of it. Still, the more esoteric reinforcements were needed and appreciated.

A new report pings on her PDA. Opening it, her hands nearly snap the device in half with the strength of her grip.

Another string of attacks. Another 10 troopers lost.

A fist flew, and the steel of her desk dented as her clenched hand bled. Her eyes were wild. Nearly every day, more attacks came and more troops died.

She wanted to be there, killing. But instead, she had to send others to die instead. It was not pity or empathy that drove this, but envy.

It should be her out there, in range of the creatures, indulging in the slaughter. It should be her bathing in the blood of her enemies. Instead, it was just scouts falling victim to an enemy they rarely saw coming.

Another ping on her PDA. Instead of a report of attacks, it was different. It was about Usla.

A family on Minda had offered to adopt her. Both parents were child psychologists, and had no children of their own. Usla was being picked up a few days from now, and Kaela's secretary had seen fit to report to her about it.

He may fear her, but he knew her well. She should give him a raise. After all, she was likely the cause of his graying hair.

Looking back at the report, she could feel the beast quelling itself. The child she had fostered had been an impulse decision. Yet…she did not want her to leave. She would let her, of course. She could not take care of a child.

Yet…

A small note was sent to her secretary. A meeting with the child was to occur the next day. A chance to say goodbye.

If nothing else, the beast was quieter that day.
—-----—-----—-----—-----—-----—-----—-----—-----—-----—-----—-----—-----—-----—-----—-----—----
I was back on Minda, and boy was I scared.

Sure, it was nice being back on the better of the two worlds I ruled. I had my room, my office, my hot chocolate. Oioro came with me, sure. And she and Darna had some weird stares between them, sure. But it was fine.

Except it wasn't. I wasn't here to do any normal work. Not approving any part of the new College being built, or the improvements to the Guild, or the plans for a small shipyard. None of it.

I was here to receive a guest. A ~magical~ guest.

And as that guest stepped off the platform of a Phi-Class shuttle, I was supremely glad that Mugwuffin had such incredible control over her Force powers to make up for her lack of raw esoteric strength.

Because before him stood an Inquisitor.

"Seventh Brother. It is good that you are here. Thank you for your willingness to assist in this matter."

He said nothing for a moment, simply looking out over the city from the landing pad on the Tower. Mugwuffin simply sat there, out connection practically severed as she maintained a tight grip on her Force presence. I would've rathered she stay behind, but without her he might get the wrong impression from my emotions and then I'm fucked.

"Your reports stated that a possible Force phenomenon was occurring. Sentients turned rabid enhanced animals, correct?" he said. His voice sounded…tired. Yet also angry.

The kind of exhaustion that can only come from a lifetime of never ending hatred.

"Correct, Inquisitor. Numerous attacks on patrols and even military centers have occurred on Edin, near the capitol. The bodies of these Wretches, as they are being called, have been studied and found to be enhanced beyond their normal capabilities through no visible means."

Again he stared in silence, looking down at the crowds of the daily markets that ran 24/7 across the city. The construction sites for new elevated speeder lanes loomed over parts of the city, an unfinished mesh of ferrocrete wires that would blanket the sky.

"Take me to the bodies." he said, tone tired yet powerful. I immediately complied, gesturing towards my shuttle so we could make our way to the labs.

As we stepped in, I could only grouch. He did scare the shit out of me.

And he looked good doing it too!

I really need to upgrade my fit.

…Even with the connection blocked, I could imagine Mugwuffin's amusement if she could read my thoughts.

Rat.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi there folks! Chapter would be longer, but it's late and I can't be bothered. There were like another 500-1000 words planned for the Las's POV this chapter, but I want to go to sleep. I could've started earlier in the day, sure, but I was busy not building a chair for my room. Woulda gotten farther in building it, but Amazon somehow forgot to send the legs of the chair. And all the screws. At least the ottoman came finished, so I got something out of it.

I also baked for the first time today! Coffee Cake. Absolute fuckin BANGER.

Thanks for reading, Inquisitor POV next chapter, and a list of fan art/fan creations used in this fic coming soon!

-Freefaller

 

[Freefaller]

Chp-37: Seventh Brother Interlude

Seventh Brother
Minda System, Ugea, Accordia

The city of Accordia was disquieting to him. A sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach as soon as he stepped out of his shuttle.

Accordia was happy in a way few other planets were. Sure, he had seen the heights of luxury afforded to the Coruscant elite, or the canal filled streets of Theed, but this was different.

In Coruscant, every high society party was filled with a sense of corruption. The dark side seeped through the cracks as bitter rivalries and fiery hatreds concealed themselves between porcelin smies and polite words.

On the other hand, planets like Naboo and Alderaan had an overcast of sorrow. As if they knew something was wrong with the galaxy, with their home, but could not see it.

Accordia was…different. An entire city from which he could sense an overwhelming amount of happiness. As the Governor's transport flew them overhead, his force enhanced vision let him see the people on the ground. Markets and festivals and people seemed to crowd every street, while speeders struggled to pass through and neighbors met each other on shared rooftop communal spaces.

Build sites for everything from schools to apartments to parks dotted the city, and certain business buildings were being retrofitted to hold the support pylons for new elevated speeder roads. The designs seemed to be made to block the sun as little as possible. Actual thought about the people by Imperial City Planners? Unthinkable.

Economic centers like the Guild headquarters saw a bevy of people rushing in and out at nearly all times, the flow of people matching the flow of the Mindan economy. Like a heart that beat in credits instead of blood.

It was all very juxtaposed to his vision of the Empire, of life.

His training had been brutal. Memories tinged with anger and rage were all that was left. That, and his skills. Skills he knew were not enough. Ever since his encounter with Lord Vader, after having failed his last mission, he knew that what he had been taught was the bottom of the barrel.

He wanted to rage against it all. To scream out in anger and defiance like he had been taught would bring him power. But, in the face of Minda's Force presence, the Dark Side seemed to fade.

Not hiss like a beast as it usually did in response to Light Side shenanigans, but simply…fade.

There was precious little for it to hang onto here. Save for him.

Turning to the Governor himself, he noted a few things about the masked man. His mask and cape were vaguely reminiscent of the fashion style that had become popular amongst certain Imperial Officials.

The cape combined with the helmet was usually meant to emulate Lord Vader. However, Governor Mola took it in a different direction.

Instead of a cape he wore a large coat that hung off him in a similar manner to a cape. A conservative amount of black and red were used to highlight, while grey appeared in large swaths around the ensemble. White was the most common color, especially since it encapsulated his helmet. Filled with tech, no doubt.

"Why…do you wear a helmet, Governor?" he asked in a slow drawl. His voice was a specially cultivated technique of his. A combination of his position of power and his apathetic tone caught people off guard, especially if they were already scared of him, like most Imperial Officials that he meets are.

"An attempt on my life left me scarred, and both my Commander and bodyguards requested that I take the excuse to wear more protective clothing. Both this helmet and my last can hold up to some blaster fire, and contain a suite of technology that is both useful in my day to day and in the case of an emergency."

A quick, but not desperately quick response. The Governor remained unphased. A quick look through the Force revealed the Governor's emotions to be fairly calm.

Not long after, they arrived at the Mindan R&D laboratory. While they passed through a number of scanners and security checkpoints, he got a look around the various Departments.

Places like the Agricultural or Software R&D departments were of no real interest to him. But, as they passed the weapons engineering lab, he slowed down for less than a second, sending a side-eyed look into the lab. Beyond the glass was a series of bipedal walkers, equipped with a variety of different arms, weapons, and equipment. All either being worked on or running an obstacle course of some kind. A particularly skinny one, seeming to lack any armor plates, was testing some sort of repulsorlift flight pack. The constant tilting of the frame and the packs constant flickering were not particularly inspiring.

"Ah, those are our LECA's. Light Expeditionary Combat Armors. They were originally designed to help explore the jungles of Minda 2, but ever since Edin they've been adapted into more modular combat and civilian platforms." Said the Governor, having noticed his interest. Perceptive, especially for a regular member of the civilian government.

"Are they effective?" he asked simply.

"To an extent. The adaptive firepower is well suited to making up for our lack of troops. However, a lot of in-house parts are used in their construction making them more expensive. Only the modularity keeps them viable out here. Other systems would be hard pressed to adopt their use." replied the Governor.

Seventh only hummed, already moving on. Eventually, they reached the Bio labs, and entered the secure containment facility.

In the center of the room lay the sealed bodies of the beings the locals called Wretches. While the Governor stayed back in the observation room, Seventh entered, confident in his sealed armor in the case of contaminants.

Looking around at the bodies, he sensed something off. Pointing at the tech to his right without looking at them, he spoke.

"Which one is the freshest?"

"...T-This one, Sir. It was brought in a f-few days ago from the eastern plateaus."

So he was right. Each one of the bodies, save the oldest, had dark side energy within them. The newest had the largest amount. Pitiful compared to even a simple Inquisitor like himself, but still.

Walking closer, he ripped the body bag open. Inside lay a dead togrutan male. His skin was a cracked grey, his muscles taught even after death. Expanding his senses, he investigated.

The muscles and brain were the largest concentrations of two distinct concepts. See, while the Force worked in a myriad of ways, the most basic was emotion. Emotions in sentients often beget ideas and concepts. In this case, the emotion of Rage had been instilled into these peoples brains so potently as to override their logical minds, while the concept of Power had been woven into the muscles to give them the strength to enact their anger.

There was more there, but it was faded, and already on its way out. He couldn't understand it, even if his skills lay more in this side of the Force. Turning, he made his way out of the lab.

"Discover anything, Seventh Brother? We can bring more samples if needed?" asked the Governor, tone polite yet not subservient. Good.

Snivelling fools who followed his every command were less than useless to him.

"I will head to Edin. I require a live specimen to more closely examine."

He looked at the Governor, and made a decision.

"Given the power of these creatures, and the numbers, I may need heavier firepower. Your labs are innovative. What could they make me?" A question that gave the Governor just enough maneuvering room to avoid going over the lab's abilities, while still making clear that it was not an order to be ignored.

"...That depends. You would have to speak to the head of Engineering to get a better answer. Off the top of my head, there might be some armor upgrades we could outfit you with. That, or some of our newer, sleeker, more advanced LECA models that are in the final stages of production. Might be better for the higher mobility you're used to."

Seventh merely hummed in the affirmative, before turning to leave.

First, he would speak to the Head of Engineering. Then, he would head to Edin. These 'Wretches' intrigued him, and if possible the techniques used to make them might earn him favor with Lord Vader.

As he passed the vehicle lab, he could see the barebones structures of a variety of speeder designs. As he turned away, out of the corner of his eye he caught a small, red rubber ball sitting in a durasteel engine shell.

Just sitting there.

Menacingly.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi there folks! Tossing this one out there, Seventh's POV will be explored more in upcoming chapters. I'm actually having some fun writing him, since he's a more analytical character. I'll be trying to incorporate the emotion sensing stuff a little more, since it feels underrepresented here.

Also, in terms of the factories. These are not yet full massive factories. They aren't small, but few factories are. They produce about a dozen of their respective products each month, on account of the fact that they produce about half of their pieces internally. In terms of exports, Las wants to get rid of the Edin problem before any potential expansions in business, because if he draws attention to himself the wider political landscape will look for weaknesses. And a Wretch and criminal filled world is easy enough to spin into bad propaganda. Well, that and Las is kinda paranoid.

Also, I glossed over it in the last chapter but yes, there is going to be a shipyard. It is essentially a prebuilt yard that will be dragged over piece by piece over the next few months. Not large going by standard shipyard size, it will primarily exist to have its docks rented out to companies that want to produce the smaller ships favored by people in the outer rim and, in this case, Guild members. CEC already has a good contract with them, and a small shipyard could easily churn out their freighter lines assuming CEC can help secure a good supply of parts.

Also, its future proofing, really. Having a functional shipyard in a backwater looks good, and will, in Las's mind, hopefully be enough to satisfy Momma Mola. Of course, he's also balancing the PR of a shipyard with policies to reduce government profits and hopefully look smaller than he is. Is it working? No. But if it did this story wouldn't be nearly as fun.

Anyways, as always feedback and commentary is appreciated.

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller

 

[Freefaller]

Chp-38: Nerd Tournament Arc?

As I watch the Seventh Brothers ship fly off into the sky, I resist the urge to give out a bodily sigh. I'm still among my subordinates, after all.

Amusement

Without deigning her with even a glance, I flick her on the nose.

Annoyance

The only thing I send back through our link is the smugness that was mirrored on my face. Hidden behind my helmet.

As I turned away, I came to see both Darna and Oioro. Darna's time as Interim Governor had brought about a different sense of fashion. Instead of her usual stark white uniformed garb, she had transitioned to a more muted grey. On top of it she wore a more flowing jacket of sorts. It was soft and a cloud white, flowing over her lekku without obscuring her head, and allowed people to see the badge that marked her as Interim Governor.

She was looking at me with a combination of resignation and annoyance.

"Is it the helmet?"

"It has a nose."

I scoffed. "That nose holds respiratory systems! Essential for survival!"

An eyebrow was raised. "You mean to tell me you can't breathe correctly?"

"...I can breathe just fine."

"And your helmet doesn't need a nose."

AmusementAgreement

Even Oioro seemed to agree, though she hid her smirk behind her PDA.

I groaned. "Fine! I'll get a different helmet. Now, how's the TIE program doing? I heard they were slated to start production."

"Correct, sir." said Oioro, handing me her PDA. On it were the stats for the TIE variants.

"Currently, both the Patroller and Enforcer are being made at a decent rate. Roughly 3 Patrollers and 12 Enforcers per month."

I hum. That is both good…and bad. Good because it's another good mark on my record when Commandant dearest comes knocking. It's bad because if they become too profitable, I'll end up attracting the attention of Imperial politics.

"What's the cost of these things?"

"The Patroller costs 175k to produce, and is decently well armed for its size with two quad cannons and one quad ion cannon. It can carry two TIE/ln's or Enforcers, has a crew of around 25, and can carry a boarding crew of around 20, and flies with a class 2 hyperdrive. The Enforcer costs around 100k to produce, has 4 laser cannons and two projectile launchers, and a class 2 hyperdrive. Both are economical for their purposes, without making the standard TIE obsolete."

I hum again. Time to keep these from spreading.

"Don't start selling them just yet. Those produced are to start patrolling both Edin and Minda. I leave it up to our Naval personnel to organize it all."

It was then that Darna spoke up. "Sir, even with the redundancies and logistical chains, the cost of running the factories, ships, and all the disparate pieces will add up. It will put undue strain on Minda's finances, especially since Edin has yet to become profitable."

Shit. She was right. And there was little I could do about it. My own salary was practically non-existent, and suggesting cuts to my subordinates' salaries would be bad. I really didn't want to start selling new TIE variants when I had the toxic waste known as Edin on my hands. Especially with the fucking cultists or whatever they are running around causing trouble. Plenty of problems for political enemies to point at.

Then I remembered. The shipyard. I turned to Darna.

"The shipyard that's slated to be built. Have we secured any contracts for that yet?"

She shook her head no. "Good. Contact CEC. We already have a good business relationship with them. Their freighters sell well amongst the Outer Rim, and the Guild being active here means that there is a higher than normal concentration of mercenaries and merchants in the area. They could outsource the building of the ships to us, so long as they provide a good supply chain."

She contemplated it, probably running the numbers in her head, before nodding. "That could work. They'll likely send a prepayment ahead that will be less than the profit a percentage cut would be, but once we prove we're capable the better pay option will be more easily negotiable."

"And of course, we can sell aftermarket parts ourselves. Maybe some of the techies can come up with some neat stuff." Which was another point on my list of things I definitely need to do instead of flying to Edin with the Inquisitor.

Amusement

I flick her nose again.

"How is the R&D department these days?" I ask, removing my helmet to take a sip of my hot chocolate.

Darna sighs. "They've been working hard, but it's clear they want to continue to develop their own projects. Some have been speaking of petitioning you for permission."

I blink a few times. "I…wasn't aware they had those privileges revoked. When did this happen?"

She looks at me with confusion, before her eyes widened with understanding. "Ah, yes. It was while you were recovering from your injuries. The Commander had many of their superfluous projects canceled and security tightened."

Shit. They were, like, the biggest money sink I had, right behind social services. And worst of all? The decision makes sense. That means I can't overturn it completely. If the whole Edin thing wasn't happening, then I might get away with it but right now it's not looking like that. Still, R&D is too valuable a money sink to toss away.

"How about this?" I start, a plan forming in my head. "Every fiscal quarter, that is to say every three months from the beginning of the year, a theme of sorts is decided. Maybe we want new trains, or new weapons, or new software. Whatever it might be that would be useful and we can produce, but not necessary. Then, members of R&D can compete in a tournament style competition where their ideas are pitted against simulated incidents in the style of the theme. At the end, the best idea is taken to prototyping to see if it's viable."

I can tell both Darna and Oioro are intrigued by the idea, so I continue. "This would allow the techies to keep that creative spark that drives them, while not letting them go wild with the budget. It also means we get more refined ideas at the end of it all."

The two debate the concept mentally, before agreeing, which was perfect. This would keep their costs up, slow down the R&D lab from pulling any more miracles out of their asses at the rate they had been going at, and hopefully reduce paperwork.

With that, my business was almost concluded. The last thing on the menu was greeting the staff that was transferred over from Thrawn's Defender project after his disappearance via magic force whales or whatever.

So, I made my way back to the labs, this time taking the scenic route. Which meant walking around the Imperial Island waving to people and having Mugwuffin preen at the attention.

"You like strutting around like a little queen, huh?"

SuperioritySmugness

"Your bed is on my floor, you know."

AnnoyanceIndignation

"Don't give me that, you know I'm right!"

As we bantered, the people around us seemed confused. Some even recorded the whole thing. Thankfully, none of them tried to interact with me. I wasn't in the mood to field questions from the staff.

Upon arrival at the labs, we were quickly taken to the aerospace division. There we saw the only two surviving TIE models from Thrawn's pet project.

A single TIE Defender, it's triple winged design showcasing a serious 6 barreled threat.

A single TIE Elite, it's X shaped wings creating a sleek, almost predatory look.

And standing beneath the two, was the original Las Mola's sister. Alvi Mola.

Fuck.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi there folks! Another chapter thrown into the ever expanding maw of my ambition! I originally planned for another whole section of Las and his sister, but decided that I could make it better by having the next chapter be Alvi's POV. Been awhile since the Mola family had an appearance, so I figured it would be a good chance.

Also, to those of you who have spoken in concern regarding my insistence on posting new chapters despite being tired, don't worry. While I fully understand that you don't want me to burn out and drop the fic, I won't. I keep such a tight update schedule because I am a Master Procrastinator.

Not as prestigious as my title as Grand Master Baiter(fishing I swear), but still, it's a problem. And I realized when I started this fic that if I ever wanted to write for $$$, then I'd have to start writing sometime soon. I also realized that I didn't want to be that fic writer that writes bangers for 10-15 chapters then just forgets about the story and starts a new one(looking at you, Seat_Admiral), or the people who update once in a blue moon. I want to finish this story. A beginning, middle, and end are kinda required for a complete tale, right?

So, I'm basically forcing myself to write every day. Even if I don't release every day, the chapter usually comes out a day or two after. If I don't do this, I will get lazy, and there goes any chance of consistent practice. Also, I like reading the comments, and all the speculation on where things are going or what ships to use. Even those who keep harping on about using Clone Wars tech and droid armies and shit. A true delight.

So yeah, don't worry about me. I'm enjoying myself, and I'll see to it that I either finish this story or hit a good midpoint before putting it on hiatus. If I go with the latter, then I'll probably cycle stories like Hiver does(bro please make a sequel to Inquisitor, I'm begging you!). And, if I do choose the cycle method, the next story will be that mercenary mage set in PJO thing I mentioned briefly. It would be a good chance for me to explore magic systems and a more episodic story.

As always, feedback and comments appreciated.

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller

 

[Freefaller]

Chp-39: Whirlwind Adventures

Alvi Mola
Minda System, Ugea, Accordia, Imperial R&D Aerospace Lab

As her brother walked into the room, there was only one thing she could say.

"Why does your helmet have a nose?"

Silence reigned, as the odd creature at his side seemed to laugh in hisses. Behind him, the uniformed teal twi'lek hid her smile behind her hand, while the chiss woman's mouth twitched upwards for half a second.

As for Las himself, he just stared. Finally, he threw his arms up.

"Oh come on! It's not that bad!"

He then immediately rounded on the smaller creature.

"Oh don't give me that, young lady! You don't even wear clothes, how can you have a sense of fashion!"

The creature's smug aura seemed to increase.

"Oh zip it Mugwuffin. You can't even wear pants, much less pull off an outfit."

As he turned away, clearly grumbling, he faced her.

"And hello to you too, sister. How goes things?" he asked, a sense of professionalism suddenly filling the room.

"I'm doing fine, Las." she responded, wondering where to take this. Even if they had been the closest amongst their siblings, it still wasn't much.

"Good. Now, regarding the future of the Defender Project."

This. This was something she could latch onto.

"We made great progress under Grand Admiral Thrawn. Olrat here is the head engineer of the project, and was able to save all of the research." she said, some excitement leaking into her voice.

Olrat stepped up quickly. "That's correct, Sir. We have all of the data and the models you see here. Nearly our entire team is also here, so continuing research on the project would be very simple. We already have a variety of plans set up for future developments and-"

Las raised his hand. "Stop. Just…stop". Olrat backed down, the abrupt order breaking his momentum.

Reaching for a hidden release button, Las removed his helmet. A small gasp nearly left Alvi's lips. Stretching from the base of his neck across the left side of his face was a scar. It curled, like a horn, cutting across his eye and breaking his eyebrow before turning and slashing towards his ear, growing narrower the farther up it went.

Either not noticing or caring about his sister's reaction, Las simply rubbed his temple in annoyance.

"The Defender and Elite projects are being put on hold, and the resources and manpower are to be directed towards other projects of more vital importance."

Immediately, Alvi, Olrat, and many of the other Defender researchers stepped forwards to protest. This was the work of over a year! They couldn't just drop it!

Before their complaints even left their mouths, Mugwuffin let out a low hiss. Despite being a quiet sound, they all seemed to hear it as if she was next to them. It seemed to freeze them in their tracks, like a predator was standing right there.

"Look, the Defender and Elite projects aren't bad, far from it, but we already have TIE projects in the works. Not to mention a bevy of other projects. We cannot afford to start dumping resources into these, especially for projects we could not produce. I've seen the numbers, and neither of these ships are cheap or have much in terms of logistical compatibility with the rest of the TIE line."

As the predatory feeling slunk away, Mugwuffin giving them all an imperious gaze before jumping onto Las's back, curling around his neck and shoulders like a scarf.

Las himself did nothing but pet her, before continuing. "Without Grand Admiral Thrawn, these projects lack any real political backing. I have practically no political capital, and certainly not enough to fight the boardroom battles necessary to have these projects approved over whatever else Coruscant is cooking up."

He gestures to his PDA, and then to the industrial LECA's sitting in the corners of the room.

"The R & D labs here are focused on improving the lives of the people of the Empire, and the Empire as a whole. A super fighter program can do that, but on a much larger scale than we can handle. Especially with the Edin system cleanups and advancements taking a large chunk of the revenue. Once that's all finished, then background development can commence, but even then it won't be much."

"So that's it. This whole project that the Grand Admiral wanted so badly is just being scrapped?" She couldn't help herself. They had worked so hard on this!

He looked her in the eye, and at that moment she was not looking at her little brother. She was staring at a stranger, garbed in a Governor's uniform.

"The Grand Admiral is gone. His opponents for funding have won. This project has no recourse for adoption by the wider Empire. Nor will I push for such. The people of Minda and Edin have no need for super fighters. They have a need for infrastructure, food, power, and a stable economy. If you want a super fighter, turn your attention towards the Whirlwind. It's no Defender or Elite, but it serves as the Ace fighter in our defense fleets."

She wanted to argue, but knew there was nothing she could say. In the end, he was right. This wasn't Lothal, and he wasn't Thrawn. The priorities here, the needs, were different.

"Well, at least you found your talent, huh? Never thought it would be governance, of all things." She joked, hoping to lighten the mood. Their family was estranged enough as it is, and she didn't want to further that gap.

He quirked an eyebrow. "I have no talent. I just read a freighter's load of history and political books, and relied on local leaders to understand what decisions would be best. My so-called 'talent' at governance is the result of over a years worth of stress and constant study."

Back on his head went his helmet, as he turned towards the door. "Now, I have much work to do. In the meantime, The Head of Development will be meeting with you shortly to assign you to your divisions and get you situated. Pilots, a shuttle and escort will be with you shortly to ferry you to wherever Commodore Veers has assigned you."

For a moment, he angled his head back towards her, his visor glowing blue. "Goodluck, and godspeed."

With that, he left.

Soon, a Lepi by the nap of Yop appeared, taking the researchers to a conference room to sort them out. Meanwhile, her and the few remaining test pilots were ferried out to a Lambda shuttle, and soon were on there way to Edin.

If nothing else, she could look forward to the Whirlwind.
—------------------—------------------—------------------—------------------—------------------—------------------
Seventh Brother
Edin System, Edin 2 Orbit

Standing at the window of his shuttle, the Seventh looks out over Edin 2.

In orbit of the planet sits a massive Lucrehulk-class battleship, smaller ships flitting about as they refit panels and remove interior pieces. Not far from it is a Vindicator-class heavy cruiser.

The dagger shaped ship bares its heavily armed front out to the void, like a sharpened spear. Around it a few modified CR90's float, fighters coming and going as they patrol the area.

But the thing that catches his attention the most is Edin 2 itself. Not the beautiful vista of its continents, or the sparkling shine of the lighter colored water that covers the lagoons and beaches of the massive, continent sized archipelago.

No, the thing that captivates him the most is the Force. Unlike Minda, which was practically neutral in its leaning, with neither side having much grip, here the Dark Side was strong.

Not as strong as he had ever felt it, but a far sight from Minda. Except, amongst that darkness, there was light. Pinpricks of grey. The largest being Edin City itself.

Yet, like always, the Dark Side rushed him. Like a crazed berserker, it swung its might at his mind like how he used to swing his lightsaber as an acolyte.

As always, he swung back. Cross metaphorical blades with a force of nature, he wrested it under his control, hissing and screaming but chained all the same. He felt his rage renewed, flowing through his body as he took a deep breath.

Minda had been strange, to say the least. But here, he felt like an Inquisitor again.

Once they made planetfall, he was flown towards the fortress used as the local garrison. Passing by the capitol, he noted the numerous construction projects. Entire neighborhoods being repaired or built anew. A bevy of construction vehicles flew and hovered about, and the spaceport was packed with a number of independent shipping companies loading and unloading cargo by the metric tons.

Upon landing at the garrison, he was met by the esteemed Commander Grant.

What a beast.

"Greetings, Inquisitor. I welcome you to Edin 2. I hear you have arrived to help with the Wretch infestation."

As she spoke, he analyzed her from behind his mask. She wasn't force sensitive, that much he could tell. But, she was steeped in the Dark Side. Her politeness a mask for the beast he could feel trying to claw its way out.

The amount of self-control she showed was impressive.

"Correct. The creatures are undoubtedly esoteric in nature. I will be heading the effort to eradicate them."

She nodded, while the beast clawed. "My thanks. They have been an elusive foe, and your…expertise would be greatly appreciated."

Before he could respond, her PDA pinged with a priority message. Quickly checking it, she cursed.

"A patrol has reported that their under attack at this very second." Turning to her second, "What do we have available for a fast response unit!?"

As she said this, Seventh simply pressed a few buttons on his datapad, watching a Gozanti that had been tailing them make a landing pass.

Instead of landing, though, it simply plopped its cargo onto the courtyard of the base.

Turning to the Commander, who had noticed the commotion, he nodded. "I will investigate. Do not bother sending reinforcements. If they have been unable to see the enemy, they will be of no use to me."

Without looking at her response, he steps into the cockpit of the TIE Whirlwind he had been given. Painted pitch black with a red highlight, he had not had the time to have it customized past the paint job.

Still, as he activated the systems and started hovering up, he knew he would be keeping it. No name had been chosen, but that was for later.

Right now, he had a foe to catch.

In seconds, the Whirlwind shot out of the courtyard at incredible speeds, its wings rotating slightly to accommodate wind patterns. Zooming out over the plains, he couldn't help but smile. In rare moments like these, flying over the horizon with not a care in the world, he seemed free.

Then, his PDA pinged with a set of coordinates, and the integrated systems in the TIE pointed him in the correct direction.

Turning, he deactivated shields and weapons, pushing all the power to the engines. In seconds, he was shooting across the environment like a ray of light. The only ship he had ever flown that was faster was the Interceptor.

In less than a minute, he arrived at the site of the attack. Slowing down, he reactivated shields and weapons. Still, he knew he would overshoot the site.

Did he brake? No.

He flipped.

The entire chassis of the TIE rotated on its central axis, the cockpit going clockwise, the wings counter. In less than a second, he was facing the opposite direction, his engines roaring to make up for the momentum.

The G's would have been enough to kill a normal person. Even with the inertial stabilizers set to 100%, the turn was drastic enough to feel. But to him? The Dark Side filled his veins, blunting the force and allowing him to make the turn with the stabilizers at a mere 75%.

Scanning the ground, he spotted a dozen dead wretches, next to a damaged Trexler. Clearly, the horde had bitten off more than it could chew.

The Whirlwinds scanners showed him little that he didn't already see, so he expanded his senses in the Force.

It didn't take much for him to pick something up. It was farther away now, and moving fast, but it reeked of the Dark Side.

Quickly gaining altitude, he kept hold of the signal. Following it. It felt…off. Old, yet amateurish. And there was the fact that he could even tell that. Even with his skills in the more esoteric side of the Force, he knew that what he and the other Inquisitors were taught was insufficient. Flawed. They were not to be Sith, and so they were not taught like Sith. They were taught like tools.

That he was able to sense this technique meant it was conducted by those with little understanding.

As he followed them, they made their way into the great canyon range that covered the eastern part of the continent. They swerved through a dozen small valleys and land bridges and ravines before the feeling began to faint. Lowering the altitude, the signal seemed to emanate from within the rock itself.

Underground. It made sense, given the cave filled nature of this place. Marking the coordinates down, he considered charging down there himself. And he almost did. The Dark Side whispered to him, not like the beast it normally was, but like a seductress that spoke poison into his ear.

Yet, the sight of the horizon, the sun starting to dip down, and a faint memory of Minda's feel calmed him. He tightened the chains within, turned around, and started the flight back to the garrison.

He took it slower this time.

The sunset was beautiful.
—--------—--------—--------—--------—--------—--------—--------—--------—--------—--------—--------—---
Hi there folks! Alvi gets a POV for the first time since chapter 14 I think, and I serve up for you some more Seventh Brother. Honestly, I really like writing him, especially since I like to think that different force users interact and view the force differently. For some it's a wave, others a person, to Seventh it's a shapeshifting beast, sometimes roaring and sometimes whispering.

Also, names! Edin 2, and Edin City both need actual names that will be needed in a few chapters! And Seventh's personal Whirlwind will need a name as well.

Loving the Omakes as well. SB has over 20 by now, and they're all incredible.

As always, feedback and comments welcome.

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller

 

[Freefaller]

Chp-40: Busywork and MECHS!

Standing at the wideview window of my office in Edin, I looked over the city. Where there was once a field of highrises that dropped down into slums, there was now a myriad of mixed development neighborhoods.

Apartment buildings and businesses sprung up like worms during the rain, parks and plazas breaking up the sea of new buildings. Development was still ongoing, evidenced by the construction ships and sites visible across the city, but things were far better.

New schools had been built, businesses from Minda had been invited to expand in order to help jumpstart the local economy. And with the retrofitting of the former Belt Haven into a trade station almost finished, a new influx of merchants would start flowing in.

In fact, many already were. Miners especially wanted to stake new claims in the belts and planets dotting the system. However, for all that the newly named city of Edinspire and its planet, Highreach, were mostly free of criminals and pirates, the rest of the system was not.

The defense fleet kept the largest pirate fleets and raider warlords at bay, but was stretched too thin to defend from the myriad of smaller bands. Thankfully, the Guild existed, and a new influx of mercenaries and their companies allowed these new prospectors to seek fortune in peace.

Turning away from the window, I sat down at my desk. On my terminal were the plans for Edin in the coming months.

While the Commander and the Inquisitor dealt with the Wretches, I would be focusing on making Edin profitable. Not too profitable, of course, but it was a drain on resources that could not be excused for too long a period of time.

Thankfully, there was an abundance of potential resources to exploit. In the Edin system, there were 4 planets and 6 moons. The asteroid belt was small, to the point that it would not be economical to bring out the same setup that Minda had, with a space based refinery.

Instead, the name of the game was strip mining. Edin 1 was far too hot, and the equipment necessary to operate in such conditions was more expensive than it was worth. Edin 3 and 4, on the other hand, were far better.

Edin 3 had a massive scar on one of its sides. There was little indication as to what caused it, but it made for an easy way to access deeper seated ores. The prospecting teams sent out there found traces of Zersium, a key component in the production of Durasteel. I had authorized the building of a mining outfit there, to extract the ore. It would be stockpiled for now, as an in house refinery was built on Highreaches moon.

Once I started selling refined Zersium, it would provide Edin with a steady supply of credits. Thankfully, Zersium is far from the rarest of materials, and since I've had the size of the vein smudged, I can avoid too much attention.

Aside from that, there were a dozen or more projects either in the works or on queue to begin all across the system. Everything from new militia centers to transportation networks, settlement pushes to an immigration policy that had been established, diverting the people that were usually sent to Minda to Edin, in order to create a larger working population and drive up the number of businesses.

At that moment, as I organized these projects and flipped through the paperwork, another alert came across my terminal.

Apparently, the Commander and Inquisitor had been doing better at tracking the Wretches than I thought. And, they had discovered some interesting things.

The Wretches themselves were powerful, but apparently some Force users of some kind had used unknown rituals or artifacts to make them invisible to both the eye and sensors. It was what allowed them to lie in wait for patrols.

However, the perpetrators had to be nearby to both keep up the spell, and transport any of the creatures away. That was how the Inquisitor was able to track them, by following their Force signature as they made their retreat.

So far, multiple bases had been discovered across the Dala Canyon range. They were hoping to find as many as possible before attacking them in one fell swoop like the Commander had in the initial attacks on Highreach.

AnnoyanceHunger

I gave the large rat a heaping of side eye.

"You got a treat like ten minutes ago, how are you hungry again?"

A purr. Begging

"Begging, huh? Where did that imperious little shit go, ay?" I say, trying not to laugh as Mugwuffin hits the puppy eyes.

"Not gonna work. Now, if you won't beha-"

Before I can admonish the overgrown snake, Oioro walks in, datapad in hand.

"Sir" she starts, giving Mugwuffin the slightest of smiles. "The new fiscal quarter has just started, and the R&D teams are eager for their first tournament theme."

I hummed. "Let's give them something on the smaller side. LECA's have been getting used more and more as time goes on. And with more and more mercenaries, how bout selling some? Specifically, lighter weight variants. The theme for this quarter is a security variant of the LECA. It must be lightly armored, smaller, and more affordable. This should be more than enough to motivate them."

She nodded, typing out a few things on her PDA. As she did, my gaze drifted back towards the window, worry starting to claw at my mind.

The year was nearing its end. In just three months, 0BBY would start, the Commandant would come knocking, and the Galactic Civil War would truly begin.

It terrified me. The potential end to this journey. My retirement, my villa on some mid rim world, my aesthetically pleasing library! All the things I wanted would be out of my reach because one force or another decided to splash me with a dose of death.

ComfortHappinessSaftey

I sighed, scratching Mugwuffin as she jumped into my lap. She was no small creature, but I was used to it by now.

I could only hope things went well.
—----------------—----------------—----------------—----------------—----------------—----------------—----------
Commander Kaela Grant
Edin System, Highreach, Imperial Garrison Base, 17 Miles from Edinspire

For all that she had been feeling cooped up and useless these past few months, Kaela felt excited. Like a small child.

She imagined this was what Usla felt when Kaela had bought her that stuffed toy Mugwuffin.

As the Gozanti lowered itself onto the landing pad to deliver supplies, her eyes locked onto one crate in particular.

Watching with vivid eyes as a team of LECA-T's(Transport variant) used their two shoulder mounted tractor beams to detach and manipulate the cargo pods.

Eventually, they dismounted the stark white crate, the Imperial R&D logo stamped on the side.

"Open this one first." she commanded, the excitement welling up inside her.

As they did, she almost squealed. Within the crate stood two LECA models.

As they unfurled, her eyes raked over them, absorbing every detail.

One was smaller than average, covered in sleek armor panels, painted completely black with red accents. Instead of the normal back mounted modules, it held a round engine and 4 long, thin repulsor lift wings, folded. Attached to its arm was a small projectile launcher, while a long blade of some kind was strapped to its waist. A tri-barreled repeater blaster was attached to the other arm, a red number 7 emblazoned on its torso.

This wasn't her LECA, no. It was the Inquisitors, who had apparently sent in a very odd request. She could already see the flaws. For all that it was faster and lighter, its lack of armor would give it a disadvantage as it was still a larger target than most. Even with the shield generator to compensate, she had her doubts. However, the Inquisitor was a Force user, capable of utilizing the Whirlwind to its maximum potential. He likely has a way to utilize such an unwieldy weapon in an effective way.

Behind the sleek, thin body of the Inquisitors armor was a much bulkier monstrosity of metal that she couldn't help but sigh at.

Standing multiple feet above the average LECA frame, her beast of a mech was large. It held a large amount of armor, improved shield generators, and a larger cockpit. Four arms branched out of the torso. The top two held multiple weapons, each strapped to a different side, keeping the hands free. The bottom two arms held large ballistic shields, integrated with smaller shield generators. This allowed the metallic beast to continue to shield itself, even after its normal generators went down.

On its back sat a variety of longer range projectile launchers. However, with all this weight, it came equipped with a repulsorlift backpack as well. Unlike the Inquisitor's suit, hers could not fly, but could pick up good speed when hovering.

And, unlike the Inquisitors suit, hers was effective without the Force. The variety of weapons allowed her to bring to bear an advancing wall of death, the redundant shields giving her more forward facing armor than a tank, all with just her in the pilot's seat.

Of course, she could recognize that for all its power and effectiveness, it was not feasible on a larger scale. It was more expensive than necessary, and it would be more economical to build tanks, but it was hers. Her very own walking death machine.

Now, she only had name it, and practice with it, to be ready for the all out assault on the cult.

A near maniacal grin spread across her face, nearby port workers and troopers inching away from the aura of bloodlust infecting the area.

She would get her blood.

No matter what.
—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—-----
Hi there folks! Had a Seventh Brother POV planned but it's getting late and I have to get up earlier tomorrow to drop my little brother off at school. Honestly, relegating POV's to the next chapter is happening a little more often than I like. Probably gonna start writing earlier in the day.

Anyways, I decided that it was high time Kaela got her own mech. The idea was based on this image somewhat. The LECA tech isn't advanced enough for her to pull off the whole lithe apex predator thing, like a panther, at least not with the smoothness Seventh can with his Force shenanigans. But, she can pull the return to monke and just get a bigger, badder piece of metal death.

And both of these custom LECA variants, referred to as LECA-Ad for Advanced, need names.

As always, feedback and commentary appreciated.

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller

 

[Freefaller]

Chp-41: Cultists are Wack, Man

Seventh Brother
Edin System, Highreach, Dala Canyon

Above the sprawling canyon range, Seventh hovered in his Whirlwind. The recently named Obsidian Talon painted a sleek black with sharp red lines cutting through the design. It had been modified to his tastes, sporting more powerful engines, shields, weapons, and a class 1 hyperdrive.

This refit had come at some costs, however. The inertial dampener and flight guidance computers had been replaced. Now, the dampener was smaller, capable of only 50% of the previous model's abilities, while the guidance system was removed entirely.

He had the Force, and therefore no need for such things.

But now, he was hovering, tracking the distinct scent of the Dark Side as yet another transport of Wretches made their escape.

This time, he intended to find their location.

With careful maneuvering, he made his way down into the canyon, rotating wings allowing him to make far tighter turns.

Soon, the scent disappeared into a cave, and he knew he had arrived. Setting down the Obsidian Talon some distance away, he got out. His outfit was modified, sporting less armor plating for more fabrics. This softened the sounds he made.

Slowly but surely, he approached the cave from the side, sticking to the darkest of the night's shadows.

He could feel the Dark Side around him, in him, a beast. But he muzzled it, caged it, and quieted his soul. For all that he wanted to lash out, the situation did not call for it.

His prowess with a lightsaber or the more violent aspects of the Force had always been lesser than that of his colleagues. However, his connection with the more esoteric side, combined with his patience, allowed him to maneuver in different directions than the other inquisitors.

While the others like Marrok or Trilla had gained their positions through strength and cunning, respectively, he had maintained his lower level through mediocrity. He always ensured that he was good enough to keep around, but not so good that he would be thrown aside.

A balance only obtainable because of his patience. Because he was willing to let others pass to ensure his own survival.

If he succeeded here, it would certainly be a boon and raise him back up into his middle rank. He had gotten cocky on his last mission, and his failure almost cost him his life.

Not here. Success was survival, failure was death, and he had not put in so much work to live as long as he had in the Inquisition just to die here.

Slinking into the cave, he activated his helmet's night vision functions. While he could do the same through the Force, he knew too little about his enemies abilities to risk it.

As he passed the threshold, the Dark Side seemed to erupt. Waves of the stuff crashing against the fortress of his soul, it pained him.

Whatever techniques they were using, they guarded the signature well. This powerful of a scent would have been detected the second he entered orbit.

Pushing on, he maneuvered through the cave system, following the most powerful of the scents. Eventually, he saw light. Getting even lower, until he was practically crawling, he peeked.

Spread amongst a larger cavern was a ramshackle base of sorts. Metal sheets and wooden planks made up the majority of the structures. Within, were people. Maybe a dozen at best, all wearing various flowing robes. Some were conversing, others reading old, dusty tomes.

To the side stood three hover trucks, clearly old but well maintained. On the other side of the cavern were cages, filled with twenty-something Wretches.

Not far from there sat more cages, this time filled with normal people, unconscious and unhurt. At a glance there seemed to be around fifty of them.

In the center, however, was a clear altar. Made of rough stone and covered in runic symbols that were filled with malice, it had copious blood stains all over it.

At the moment, it was unused. Before he could observe more, a thud emanated from a connected tunnel.

Walking through the tunnel was a mass. It could hardly be called a living thing, despite the fact that its many mouths breathed and its amalgamation of legs lifted it step by step.

Shambling its way into the room, it was followed by three figures. Two were humanoid, but clearly modified, with multiple other arms and legs wrapped around their original appendages.

The third figure was different. The other people in the cave wore simple brown robes, while this one wore a more elaborate, multi-layered maroon robe. On the back was a sharp orange symbol that he failed to recognize at a glance.

As the figure goes to stand in the center of the altar, they pull from their robes what seems to be a metal shard.

It seems to hum, the already strong Dark Side scent sharpening. The figure starts to turn toward his direction, but he's already on the move.

His instincts scream at him to movemovemove. He clamps down even more on his soul, as he rushes back to his ship as quietly as possible. After passing the caves threshold, the feeling seemed to seep away, trapped within the caves wards.

He didn't stop moving.

Not until he was back in his ship, and flying away.
—--------------—--------------—--------------—--------------—--------------—--------------—--------------—-----

It was late. Far later than I would rather it be, but I had little choice in the matter.

I sat in my private quarters in the capitol building of Edinspire, a terminal glowing in front of me.

Behind me lounged Mugwuffin, spread across my bed like she didn't have a handcrafted bed of her own just below her.

Personally, I would have preferred to go to bed, but I had a schedule of sorts to keep. See, after I awoke in this unfortunate situation, I realized I had 0 skill in politics or leadership. Something I needed to fix quickly.

Leadership was easy enough. Speak confidently, treat people with respect, admit your faults but avoid looking like a bumbling moron and I could get by well enough. Politics and governance are a different story.

Since my arrival, I've been able to make the right decisions through a combination of three things. The first is common sense, a trait sorely lacking amongst much of the Imperial administration. The second is asking the people around me who work in whatever area I'm deciding on for their professional advice and the like. It's why I leave requisition details largely up to Grant or Veers, because they know what they're doing.

The third reason is studying. Whenever I can, which is usually every other day, I take a few hours to read through mind-numbingly boring historical documents and political journals. I pour through textbooks from the best colleges I could get my hands on, all to understand the political world a bit better. And what have I learned?

It's so Sith-like it's not even funny. Most of politics is people maneuvering around each other to gain what they want and mess with their enemies in the meanwhile. The only difference is that public perception plays a bigger role, while the old Sith would just burn down whatever city caused a ruckus.

Still, once you dig past that you get to the economics and cultural parts of it, and it starts to make more sense. Still a lot, but its easier to read about balancing tariffs and reigning in mega-corps than it is to read the millionth variation of 'politician retires suddenly, national oopsie totally unrelated'.

So here I am, reading the twelfth chapter of Galactic Economics: Planets to Galaxies. It was the standard issue textbook for students studying economics at Byron University, over on Alderaan. Tough stuff, but I powered through, noting down important topics and the like.

If Minda had a shiny outside and a rotten inside, the Commandant might notice. It didn't have to be perfect, but it had to be working.

I normally wouldn't be working this late, but my lack of academic talent meant I spent longer on this kind of stuff than normal, and combined with all the work Edin has been giving me, I can hardly find the time.

It's only because of this that I'm awake when the report gets sent to my terminal. Likely meant for me to see tomorrow, I check it anyway. A break from the increasingly complex world of intergalactic trade felt like heaven.

I checked the report.

I then immediately cradle my face in my hands and sigh, seriously considering praying to the Force. I don't, because the magical fate making energy can go fuck itself, but its certainly tempting.

Because on my screen, stitched onto the back of some upjumped cultists robe, is a symbol.

The symbol of the Eternal Empire.

Fuck.
—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----—----
Hi there folks! Sorry for the 4 day delay. It wasn't for anything important, it's just that I've been…gooning, for lack of a better word. I'd say more, and but all my stuff is posted on SFW pages. And even tho the peeps over on QQ are a different breed, to say the least, I got an infraction over there cause I called the commenter incels as a joke in an a/n, so I'm not risking it.

Another reason is that my new PC, after the old one burned in the Eaton fire, was supposed to arrive on the 20th. I then had the pleasure to learn that, after waiting two weeks, it was actually slated to arrive between the 20th of March and the 2nd of April.

Joy.

Anyways, I've been in a mood, but still pumped this one out as an interim chapter and to get the right organs working this time around.

As always, feedback and comments appreciated.

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller

 

[Freefaller]

Chp-42: Bad Bosses

Brocso'ior'ovinor 'Oioro'
Edin System, Highreach, Edinspire

Looking out the window of her transport, Oioro considered how things had gone for her.

The assignment had changed drastically considering Thrawn's disappearance, and now she was stuck being a secretary until further orders came in.

In the meantime, she had work to do.

Flying over Edinspire, the city sprawling below her. Edispire was built on one the largest elevated plateau in the region. It was a massive piece of elevated land, nearly 400 meters above the ground, with roughly 40 square kilometers of flat land ready to be built on. Edinspire only covered around half of that.

Yet, already it was expanding. Smaller construction companies from around the sector had flocked to the budding platform to expand the city further. A new commercial district was being born, as were dozens of new neighborhoods and parks. It would be some time before it became anything like Accordia, and even longer before it became a true metropolis, but still. It was impressive work.

The spaceport especially was expanding quickly. See, when the city had first been founded, prospectors found veins of precious ore inside the plateau. However, while said ore funded the building and growth of the city, it eventually ran out. Now a great many caverns run throughout the center of the plateau. It took some excavation, but now a large bore hole similar to the sinkholes of Utapau now sat there. Many of the original mining tunnels were made safe, expanded, and now functioned as hangards for the variety of ships that came and went day in and day out. A train system delivered cargo to the city from both the spaceport and its above ground counterpart, made to cater to larger vessels that couldn't easily or safely fit in the main structure.

The spaceport even had a Guild office, along with hotels, restaurants and shops. These businesses were opened with the grants signed by the Governor to native businesses. This streamlined experience let merchants land, do their business, and be back in space far quicker.

As her ship settled down in one of the Imperial Officials only landing pads. She was here to escort some high profile guests while the Governor handled some urgent guild business.

Upon landing, she saw that the guests ship was already on the pad, opening its doors. In seconds, she was standing in front of emissaries. Specifically, emissaries from Rendili StarDrive.

She gave a light bow. "Greetings, esteemed guests. The Governor regrets being unable to escort you himself, as he is busy with important matters pertaining to the Guild. Please, if you would follow me. There is much to discuss."

Her posture and cadence was perfect, giving off a combination of professionalism and respect that was often met with similar responses among corporate workers.

She suppressed a smile. While they were experienced, her espionage training left her unmatched. Soon enough, the future Mindan shipyards would have a few more berths filled out for starship production.
—---------------------------—---------------------------—---------------------------—---------------------------—----
Garza Driar
RIII Champion Mercenary
Certifications: Tracker II, Advanced Scout I, Hazardous Environment Survival I, Enhanced Armour I
Minda System, Minda 2

As Garza stared down into the gaping maw of the jungle, he couldn't help but regret taking this contract.

He and his crew were a 'party' of independents. That is to say, not large enough to be a proper mercenary company, but still having more than one person.

A week ago they had been hired by the scientific branch of Corleone Industries, a resource production company that recently settled a branch in the Minda system.

They had sent a team down to Minda 2 to conduct surveys for minerals and other precious resources that might be of use to them, and Garza's team had been hired to protect one of the smaller teams, since the company only had enough security forces on hand for the larger of the groups.

Currently, they were perched atop a mountain. The air was cold, and snow fell around them. Down below, he could see the sea of greens, reds and purples that made up the vast jungle. Off in the distance, he could see the mountains at the other end of the valley. Much of the continent was like this. Large, dense jungles situated in deep valleys ringed by tall mountains. They covered the continent, like large craters of greenery.

As his comm crackled, he turned his head towards the base.

"Falee to team, we have another incursion, west side. Ten bogeys."

West side. His side. The observation tower jutted out into the sky behind him, cameras and sensors extending their range.

He pressed a button on his suit's integrated PDA, syncing the tower's data to his helmet. The suit itself was a recent addition, as their team had just gotten the certifications and ranks needed to use them. Companies had been making and selling armors similar to the new StormTrooper armor, with advanced capabilities, but the Guild restricted their selling to those with experience and certification.

But damn did he like it. Sure, it wasn't as advanced as the Imperial stuff, but the model he was using came with good comms, some light sensors in the backpack, secure storage for ammo and bacta patches, along with some integrations for environmental control. Which was sorely needed, considering the temperature was cold as hell.

Regardless, he acknowledged over comms, and took aim. The enemies were these flying creatures, sporting four wings in the shape of an X-wing, around five meters long. Alone they were fast and nasty. It was their riders that worried them.

Large, humanoid people covered head to toe in furs, so much so not even their eyes could be seen.

They carried slings of some sort of explosive compound, and every now and again came around to bombard their outpost.

"Enemy in site, opening fire." And open fire he did. He didn't bother using his personal weapon, opting instead for the E-Web emplacement they had added to his side of the perimeter. Red bolts of plasma sprayed like a hose, accompanied by a few other emplacements that could see the enemy.

Most shots missed, but some were lucky and tore into the wings of the creatures, sending them and their riders spiraling down toward the base of the mountain.

It was as the flyers dipped down into an attack run that things got serious. Whatever kinds of slings they were using, they could fire far, because green blobs the size of his head started raining over the compound.

Garza ducked his head as they splashed around, igniting on impact into small explosions. Still, he kept firing, the cold environment allowing the E-Web to keep firing past its heat threshold.

Eventually, most were killed, and the remaining ones ran in fear.

As he bemoaned his job, and his team lead counted off survivors and injuries, he could only hope that the pay was good enough to make up for the hell this planet put him through.
—-----------------------------------—-----------------------------------—-----------------------------------—----------
Shas Mola
Scarif System, Scarif Orbit, Imperial-II Class Star Destroyer Heavy Judgement

As Shas inspected her new PDA, she found herself impressed. An undoubtedly useful piece of technology that combined many smaller products into one, larger one. It was efficient, useful, and portable.

It also lacked sufficient encryption for her station, and was therefore nothing more than a curiosity. Even though her's was the military model, her posting was classified, and all communication devices had to pass certain tests of encryption ability.

Regardless, it was useful to show her non-classified messages, like the one she was reading now, and trying not to crush something over.

Admiral Gorin was seeking to move her out of the Scarif system months before her scheduled change of watch. He was going to take up her post in his Imperial-I Class, the Intimidator. Aside from the fact that he likely had other duties to attend to across the sector, her Heavy Judgement was a newer, more advanced ship that could bring to bear more firepower.

She sighed, putting the PDA down on her desk and massaging her temple. She had played the power games of the Navy her entire career, and now she was losing a valuable posting she had worked so hard for, to an Admiral who wanted to sit pretty for a bit.

And surely, this new position had nothing to do with the fact that Director Krennic, of the Department of Advanced Weapons Research, was rumored to be visiting soon. While a political snake in his own right, the Director had a great deal of influence, influence that the Admiral no doubt wanted to take advantage of.

'Still', she pondered. 'I won't be leaving the sector. That means I'll have the opportunity to get the position back'.

'And I have all that vacation time.'

'Might pay Las a visit'
—---------------------—---------------------—---------------------—---------------------—---------------------—----
Hi there folks! Sorry for the delay, but the muses are pushing in a different direction so it took a little longer. Anyways, I'm here to speak about the upcoming hiatus. Not today, no, but once the current Arc ends, I'll be putting this story on pause.

I started Governor's Gambit for two reasons. The first was that I'd always wanted to see a story about a regular Imperial office worker OC-SI whose common sense and reason, combined with their good job skill, inadvertently changed the entire galaxy. That idea spiralled into an Imperial Governor OC-SI who does the same thing but with better drip and a pet. The second reason I started this was because I needed to start writing something. So I forced myself to write just about every day. Because I really didn't want to end up like George R.R. Martins, and faff about for too long. I needed, and still need, to practice consistently to get anywhere.

The problem with this, that some of you have pointed out, is that I risk burnout. Which is valid, even if I'm built different, and the power of Brazilian government corruption flows through my veins and gives me the ability to just say "eh, I've seen worse" to mental health problems. However, I can't stop writing, cause then I'll stop practicing and suddenly I'm back to how I was.

A dreamer who never took the first step.

I don't want that. So instead, I'll be pivoting over to another story, the first chapter of which will be released on the same day as the last chapter of this current Arc. I will leave a link on that chapter of Governors Gambit so I can steal more readers over. As for what the story will be? Pseudo-episodic OC-SI into an expanded PJO world as a magical mercenary. I have spent an ungodly amount of time making like 10 different magic systems for this. And don't worry, I'll eventually put that story on hiatus at a good midpoint to continue this one. Pulling a Hiver, but I'll actually finish both stories before starting another. (please bro I beg of you make a sequel to Inquisitor)



As always, feedback and commentary are appreciated.

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller

 

[Freefaller]

Chp-43: Minda Hawk Down

Kel Loyu
RV: Champion
Certifications: Tracker I, Demolition IV, Adviser III
Edin System, Highreach

All it took was one last shot.

A blue ring fired out of her pistol, stunning the trandoshan, forcing him to the ground.

From there, it was easy to toss him in a containment cell. From there, she surveyed the battlefield. It was a small smuggling cave that had been home to a pirate band. She and her family had picked out the bounty for them.

Around her lay the corpses of many, many pirates. Some simply shot, others brutalized by Kay's latest maniacal melee weapon.

This one used sparkles. There was no reason why.

"Kay" she called over the comms. "Target has been secured. You done over there?"

The sound of harsh clanks, the breaking of bones, and many screams echoed over the comms before her sister answered.

"Yup! All finished!"

Kel muted her comms before sighing. She truly loved her sister, but the bloodlust was always unnerving.

Dragging the target out of the cave, she swept her gaze across the horizon. Wide, flat plains stretched into infinity, broken up by large plateaus dotting the landscape.

Turning back to the ship, she brought the containment unit onboard. After securing it, she made her way to the cockpit.

In the pilots seat sat Kai, fiddling with sensors and the like. Connected to his chair was an extending arm, holding up a PDA like screen. It was an easily configurable ship interface, and had been the first upgrade Kai had begged for once they reached RIII, and even now he was glued to it, fingers dancing across the screen.

"Still in love with that, ey?" she ribbed, plopping down in the co-pilot seat.

He didn't deign to look at her as he responded. "It lets me tune the entire ship from my seat. If the Force is real, then it's blessed me today."

She snorted. "I'm not sure that's how the Force works."

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter, still cool."

"Just…don't get used to upgrades like these all the time. It took 3 weeks for the crew at Forged in Orbit to rewire the ship so you could do this. You're lucky the Governor likes us, or we wouldn't have the credits to pull this off."

Just as he was about to respond, something started beeping on his console.

"Kriff… its a distress call. 1.2k from here." He looked up at her, the question in his eyes clear.

"Play it." She said, a message already sent to Kay to return to the ship.

…this is the Mindan Str…e are going d…wn, I repeat, thi… the Mi… tream and w… are under atta…

Kai was looking intently at his monitor, before he nearly gasped. "The IFF signature reads as…the Mindan Stream!"

Kel cursed under her breath, already buckling in and comming Kay.

The Mindan Stream is the Governors ship. She wouldn't let their biggest employer die.

Not until they were rich, or dead.
—----------------------------------—----------------------------------—----------------------------------—-------------
Today wasn't going super well.

And I mean sure, the deals with both CEC and Rendili StarDrive had gone well. CEC would get a few berths to pump out their much beloved gunships light freighters for the many mercenaries and entrepreneurs the Guild employed.

Rendili, on the other hand, got a few of the larger berths. See, business had been booming, especially in Minda, and some companies were getting big enough to expand out of the Guilds systems. And sure, they could go out and buy larger ships, pay the extra fee's and get them shipped all the way out here.

Or…they could join the Guild. Mercenary, Trading and Mining Companies of a high enough rank could order ships from the shipyards, with a discount! Not only that, but there would be a reduction in tariffs for the goods they shipped with any freighters bought in Guild territory for a whole year! Sure, it wasn't a massive reduction, but any good capitalist knows that the little things add up.

And of course, Rendili was the only company building any ships large enough for the companies to consider using for out-of-system trade and convoy protection in Guild territory.

Overall, it was a good deal. Certainly more attention grabbing than I would've liked, but at this point I have just around 2 weeks before 0BBY, so any extra bits and bobs that made me look more accomplished would be for the best.

So why isn't my day going well?

"GOVERNOR! GET DOWN!"

That. That's why my day is going badly.

I duck down behind the cockpit of the Mindan Stream, as one of my bodyguards throws a grenade over the ship. Through the glass, I can vaguely make out the shapes of the veritable swarm of Wretches that had attacked me mid-flight.

Somewhere in that swarm was the creature that shot us down. You'd think it was some AA gun, but nope. The stupidly large spear of what looked to be bone of some kind that was sticking out of my ships left wing didn't seem like the work of a turret.

With me were the 6 bodyguards that were on the ship with me, along with Oioro and both the pilot and co-pilot. It was a small crew, but we were just flying over to the newly redesigned city of Goltri to officially open their first secondary school. Not a big deal to most, but it was the first place of education higher than elementary school there so it mattered to them, and it would make me look good on the holos.

Again my guards raised up and took aim, slinging bolts of green death down range at the advancing horde. Only generous amounts of grenades, and the two heavy security LECA's that were obligated to follow me everywhere kept the creatures from turning us into unflattering pulps of flesh.

Honestly, it's a miracle that those thing both fit in the limited storage aboard the ship and survived the crash.

DangerFightUp!!!!

I don't question Mugwuffin's magical assistance, I just turn in the vaguely upwards direction I can feel through our connection, my pistol raised.

Just as I do, a Wretch launches themselves with such force that their legs shatter under the strain of their enhanced muscles. Flinging themselves over the ship and right at me.

My blaster roars, and only my clear vision of the creature combined with the fact that it was literally falling at me ensured I hit all my shots. Six heavy looking bolts of green plasma slam into the creature, turning its face into mush.

I roll to the side as its corpse splatters on the ground. Only the fact that the Commander insist that I and my forces use higher quality blaster gas combined with my upgraded and expensive pistol allowed me to 6 shot a Wretch. It would take a dozen regular bolts to kill one of these on a good day.

As this happens, an earth-shaking roar is heard, and through the horde comes a beast of a Wretch. Standing at twice the height, it seems to be four or so people stitched into one creature. Still bipedal, and standing at about the height of the LECA's, its many eyes stare in pained hatred and its mouths scream in wrathful agony.

The LECA's immediately focus fire on it, their shoulder mounted projectile launchers covering it in fire and death.

It keeps barreling through.

Just as it's about to reach the ship, an explosion rings out, and I instinctively duck down.

When I look up again, I see heavy laser fire saturating the area from a nearby ship. A ship I recognize. It fires off a bevy of what are normally anti-ship torpedoes, turning the entire horde into dust. A few go flying off in the distance, impacting what I assume to be whatever shot us down.

As the ship lands, I see the helmeted heads of the Loyu family walking out.

They are getting a fat fucking paycheck, of that I'm certain. And permanent jobs. Hopefully.

If you find talent, you never let go, right?
—----------------------—----------------------—----------------------—----------------------—----------------------
Hi there folks! Sorry that this took longer than I wanted. These chapters are really fighting me. Cause I want to finish the arc before putting the story on hiatus, but I also want to just throw myself into writing that other fic. I have spent far too much time messing around with like 7 different magic systems.

Also, I spent like 5 hours playing DnD with some friends I don't see in-person very often. My character was a Cleric who was a scavenger that picked up a divine artifact from a forgotten goddess of life/healing, and now said goddess is forcing him to become her acolyte and spread her good word. Only problem? She has been weakened so much, she can only communicate through emotions. Like Mugwuffin. Except my character and her don't get along, so the prayer for casting Cure Wounds is more like "Bitch please heal me so your faith doesn't die" and shit like that. Really fun.

Anyways, feedback and comments appreciated.

Thanks for reading!
-Freefaller

 

[Freefaller]

Chp-44: A Million Souls

Sitting in my office, my foot tapping against the floor, I was…nervous. Really nervous. We were close to a week into 0BBY. Otherwise known as 7977 in the Coruscant Reckoning Calendar.

And things were going…well? Suspiciously so. Sure, I got shot down and almost killed, but Grant and the Inquisitor were at that moment attacking the Cult. For all the power of the Wretches, I very much doubted that they could survive the combined bloodlust of those two maniacs.

Aside from that, things were looking well. A new Imperial Mining Company was brought together to start mining the other planets in the Edin system, and I approved some more scouting of Minda 2 to see if that green deathtrap had anything worthwhile.

Hell, I had even hired the Loyu Family as full time employees! They got jobs as teachers at the Guild, and were paid extra to take on high-priority bounties and missions that I didn't trust other mercs to carry out.

No, the thing that was bothering me was the fact that my mother had yet to arrive. She said 2 years, and given what I knew about her from the og Las's memories, she was not one for being late.

But she wasn't here yet.

Maybe she was on the Death Star? But I had no guarantee, since I don't know when in 0BBY the DS1 goes boom. Mugwuffin hasn't woken up screaming, so I'm pretty sure Alderaan is still in one piece.

It was annoying. There were three empty mugs of hot chocolate on my desk, and only Oioro's judgemental look stopped me from pouring another one.

I sighed. My mission here was almost finished. If I succeed? Well then, mother dearest will clap a little, call me a success, and then I can tell her I want to stay and make it better. It'll sound convincing.

After that? I fake my death. I can grab a few bombs, and last I heard thermal detonators make quick work of any remains if they're close enough.

From there I can jump in my ship and head off into the world. With some better bacta to fix my scars, a fake mustache and an accent change back to good old 'Merican, I could hide reasonably well.

Wait a year or two, then use my hidden funds to start a small shipping company, get even more money(but not too much), and retire well. I'll be comfortable, happy, and not bored because of the company I would be running. Plus Mugwuffin would be there.

Maybe I could even settle down, get married. The whole nine yards.

But first, I had to convince my mummy dearest not to kill me.

I sighed again, which considering how much I was doing that, there was no way it was healthy.

Hopefully Grant's little murder spree was going well.
—---------------------------—---------------------------—---------------------------—---------------------------—----
Seventh Brother
Edin System, Highreach

As he commanded his LECA to swing its blade, he felt elated. The ease with which he cut through the hordes of Wretches was practically euphoric.

As one of the recently named Grave Titan's swung a meaty arm made of arms, he simply jumped back, the wings of his newly named Dread Unit flaring, the repulsorlifts flinging him upwards.

The blaster on his arm roared as he landed, peppering the creature and weakening a limb.

It swung again, its many mouths screaming in agony. He could feel the rage, the anger, the pain of each of those trapped in it. Their minds and bodies twisted to this extent.

Regardless, his hands twitched around the controls, the LECA dodging the swing easily. His sword flashed upwards, and the arm fell to the ground, writhing. As the creature wailed once more, he swung once more, the oversized vibro-blade cutting through the flesh with ease.

The Force screamed at him in a different tone than usual, and he instinctively dodged as another of the creatures attacked from behind.

Before he could retaliate, a barrage of green laser fire turned the creature into ash. Turning, he saw the Commanders much larger, bulkier Imperial Shield. It lumbered forward, its many weapons annihilating the creatures in droves.

They were at one of the cults larger hideouts, clearing it out with less backup to allow more forces to be directed against the other hideouts. This combined with a near constant amount of orbital bombardment kept the cultists stuck inside their hidey-holes.

With the Edin System's Vindicator in orbit, throwing the occasional turbo laser shot in the known locations of cult bases, they weren't leaving anytime soon.

Looking around the large cave, Seventh could sense life no longer.

"That seems to be all, Commander. Let us proceed."

She gave her affirmative, and the two made their way to the transport.

Mere minutes later, they arrived at the main base. Already, their forces were entrenched in the canyon, flinging copious amounts of fire down at the wretches. There were large craters where the Vindicator had provided covering fire, but the canyons weren't stable enough to sustain such a thing, and if the entrance to the cave system collapsed it would delay their efforts and allow the enemy to potentially escape.

Still, as the transport dropped them off, a trio of LA-AG's swooped by, their wing mounted beam weapons cleaving through the hordes.

As more fire rained down, Seventh made a choice.

Gathering up the remaining LECA's, he ordered a full frontal assault on the compound. They would cut their way through the cave system.

He could hear the Commander's laughter through the comms and she obliterated the creatures, and he couldn't help but agree.

As the Dark Side flowed through him, enhancing every swing, pushing the servos to the max, guiding his movements, he never felt more free.

Cutting through the myriad of forces, little was left behind. As they advanced deeper into the caverns, the Dark Side only grew stronger.

And stranger.

The Force felt…odd, here. Like it was chained. Not unlike how he visualized it within himself, but here it was more…real.

As they entered the center room, it opened up before them. A massive cavern, easily four times taller than the Commanders , and very open. In the center was a raised podium, upon which stood a robed figure.

Immediately, the soldiers opened fire, only for their blaster bolts to ping harmlessly on a shield.

A shield of the Force.

In front of the figure was a dagger that reeked of the Dark Side, of an ancient power that raised every hair on Seventh's arms. It was shattered, the dagger, but its metal fragments were arranged in its original shape. It floated above what seemed to be a large stone box of sorts.

Around the podium were other robed figures, cloaked like the central one.

It spoke.

"Hello, pitiful creatures." it's voice rasping and cruel.

He activated his loudspeaker. "What manner of creature are you?"

It laughed, a rasping, dry sound. "I…I am one of the chosen!" it exclaims, throwing off its hood.

Beneath is what once might have been a recognizable sentient creature, but is now a twisted mound of flesh. Many eye's sprout out of its face, its cracked lips and jagged teeth twisted into a smile.

"Chosen…by the will of our Eternal Master to raise a grand army, and await His return!"

It turned towards the knife once more, the Force practically screaming. In agony, in ecstasy, in a million things. He shut it out, and ordered a full frontal barrage on the enemy.

It was too late.

The creature slammed the knife into the box, cracking the stone. Simultaneously, the bowed supplicants around it started to bleed, from every orifice.

The creature retracted the knife, and watched the box. From it rose…

Power

A humanoid figure, clad in pitch black armor, chains of ethereal energy linking it to the knife. It twitched, the anger, rage and fear evident through the Force. Whoever this was, they were trapped.

Unfortunately for them, Seventh didn't really care all that much.

Already his blaster was raised, a stream of death flying towards the figure. Their head jerked towards it, and up went their hand. The bolts diverted course slightly, just barely missing the figure as they kicked off of the podium with incredible force.

Seventh knew he couldn't win head on. Thankfully, he had the Dread Unit.

Engine roaring, he zipped around the air, dodging the figures' wild swings. Eventually, they grew tired of the chase, and with a pained roar, swung their saber sharpley. The Force itself seemed to coalesce, becoming an invisible blade. He just barely dodged, his senses screaming at him to movemovemovemove!

Behind him, the swing impacted the cavern wall, creating a multiple foot deep gash in the stone.

This game of deadly cat and mouse continued while the Commander poured her power into trying to take down the energy shield created by the cults leader.

"Commander! I can't hold this one back much longer!"

"The shield won't fall!" she yelled back, before noticing something. As the figure slashed the cavern's walls, the floor trembled, and the cult leader with it.

Her eyes widening, she commed the inquisitor again.

"Get that thing to slash the shield!" she yelled, aiming some of the smaller blasters towards the figure and firing. Predictably, the figure dodged with ease, deflecting the rest, but it gave the Inquisitor enough time to move into position.

Dodging and weaving, he traded blows with the figure, and yet was unable to hold out for long. While the Dread Unit's vibro-blade was powerful, its material was not dense or strong enough to resist lightsabers for long. And even then, the figure was stronger than the LECA itself.

It terrified him.

Another dodge, but a second too slow, and his sword was shorn in two. Cursing he dropped the handle and reoriented, firing an inciendiary fromt he projectile launcher. As he did, he fired his blaster. The figure dodged the projectile, and deflected the blasters, but failed to realize his plan.

The bolts landed, detonating the incendiary behind the figure, pushing them forwards towards him. It was the perfect opening for them, and they used it, bring down their saber. Again, the Force screamed at him, and he listened.

Putting every ounce of power the Dread Unit had towards the flight systems, he dodged in the last second, rocketing to the right as the saber came down.

The sheer force of the attack ripped the Dread Unit's left arm off without even touching it, as the attack careened towards the shield.

Then, it impacted.

The force was immense, the two powers raging at each other. An unstoppable force versus an immovable object.

However, the ground below the shield was not so immovable. It shattered, breaking the podium and unbalancing the cult leader. It dropped the dagger, shattering into pieces on contact with the floor.

As soon as that happened, the shield fell, and the Commander turned the creature into paste.

All the while, the figure which had almost killed him, which had near effortlessly outdone him, fell to the ground unconscious.

Dread Unit slammed into the other side of the cavern, repulsorlifts barely keeping it from being flattened.

Seventh just…sat there. Breathing. Being alive. For a few seconds there was nothing. No Force. No obligations. No imminent danger.

Just him, his cockpit, and his breathing.

Then it all came back, and he hit the emergency release, popping the door off the cockpit and stepping out, nursing his wounded ribs.

A few minutes later, they were securing the area. The shards of the dagger were being put in separate containment units, to be transported with him back to Coruscant once properly secured in a dozen layers of confinement. He would have preferred a quicker process, but the Governor, upon hearing about this daggers seeming ability to create Wretches, insisted on the extra layers of security.

Seventh was too tired to truly argue against a measure he agreed with, no matter how inconvenient.

The figure, on the other hand, was different. They were a key component of all of this, and would undoubtedly help raise his standing in the Inquisition back to its previous place if he brought them back alive. Their lightsaber was taken and put in containment, and the currently they were working on removing the armor, which was somehow stuck to its wearer.

So there he sat, on a piece of rubble outside the cavern, a bacta patch healing his ribs. Contemplating his next moves. The other Inquisitors would be less than pleased by his success, but would refrain from moving against him so soon after a victory. Especially with their order having few members left.

As he contemplated this, something happened.

He felt it through the Force. Unimaginable death.

A million souls crying out in terror.

A million souls silenced.
—-------------------------—-------------------------—-------------------------—-------------------------—------------
Hi there folks! Sorry for posting this chapter at an odd hour, I spent most of the day goofing off and planning the first chapter of that PJO fic I talked about. This is the second to last chapter of the Arc before Governor's Gambit goes on hiatus. The next chapter will take a little longer to be posted because I'll be posting it in tandem with the first chapter of the new fic, so I can link it at the end.

The PJO fic will follow an OC-SI dropped into a much expanded version of the PJO world. I'm talking about different magic systems, factions, and much more. I always thought that the magical underground felt small in those stories, like there was so much just out of sight. It came to me that maybe that could be intentional in-universe. Demi-gods, especially those in the Camps, are known for getting quests, getting into trouble, and generally having more Divine attention on them. Any magical underground of people with the Sight, like mercenaries, mages, and even governmental organizations dedicated to regulating magic would steer clear, cause no-one fucks with the Gods and gets away with it easily.

To me, that says that so much could be just out of sight. And I want to make something that follows that. I probably could just make it into a standalone low-fantasy story, but the PJO name means more attention which means more feedback which I really need. It also helps fill in worldbuilding gaps, and gives me more overarching plot points to hold onto, like how the fall of the Empire is super important to Las even though he's in such an isolated area of the world.

As always feedback and commentary is appreciated.

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller

 

[Freefaller]

Chp-45: Employment! Unbelievable

It wasn't long after the reported destruction of the cult's main base, that I was meeting with the Seventh Brother at the spaceport.

He was leaving. Thank god.

"You will be sorely missed, Inquisitor. Your services have been exceptional." I said, keeping my tone professional in the presence of the wonder Force user.

We stood before his shuttle as the wreck of his Dread Unit was loaded onboard. He seemed out of it, which could be good or bad. Good as in he was distracted and not paying me mind, or bad as in he was about to snap.

It took an uncomfortably long amount of time before he responded.

"...It has been…an interesting time, Governor." He turned to me, the crack in his helmet showing me his bright blue eye, tinged with yellow. His brow furrowed in confusion, but I didn't comment on it.

"Of course, Inquisitor. The Obsidian Talon is being loaded onto your long term transport as we speak. In regards to the…leftovers from the cult base. Those will take a little longer to transport."

He nodded his head lightly, eyes turning off into the distance. A light feeling came through my bond with Mugwuffin. The feeling of peace.

He must be full of it if he couldn't sense the bond being used, but that's neither here nor there.

"The knife will come with me. The prisoner…will require far tighter restraints. Do what you can here, and I will have a proper containment unit sent when possible."

Shit. I saw the footage from the Commander's cameras. How the hell was I supposed to contain a fucking Sith!

Before I could voice this complaint in a more professional manner, he spoke again.

"Worry not. The second the dagger was destroyed…they grew weakened. Very weakened. I doubt they will be able to achieve the levels of power they showcased earlier. But that does not mean they should be underestimated, and I doubt you have the facilities to contain them for long once they awaken."

With that, he made his way towards his shuttle.

"I bid you…a good day, Governor." His voice sounded…odd. I couldn't quite place the emotion in his voice, so I didn't try.

"Godspeed, Inquisitor. Godspeed." Was all I said. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?

A minute later, he was gone. The light of his shuttles engines growing smaller by the second.

And for a second, just looking up into the sky, I felt fine. Just fine.

Then Oioro had to go and open her stupid mouth.

"Sir. Commander Grant wishes to speak to you. She has a proposal she wishes to present to you in person."

I sighed, and gestured for the PDA. Muttering some vague thanks as I looked through the message, I could just barely resist the urge to facepalm as I read the title of the presentation.

*The Effectiveness of Melee Weapons in LECA Combat*

It sounded ridiculous. It sounded bloodthirsty. It sounded more interesting than the pile of paperwork awaiting me at the office.

"Oioro, approve the meeting, and have some snacks ready in the meeting room please."

AnnoyanceBegging accompanied by a pathetic little whine.

"And some BBQ snacks as well."

"Of course, sir." I pretended not to hear her snicker.

HappinessSmugness

I flicked her snout.

—--------------------------------

It was a few days later that I got the news. Alderaan had been destroyed.

Fuck.

I mean, I knew it was due sometime this year, but still. Fuck.

Not only that, but I got the news late. That means that the DS1's destruction is closing in. Fast. Really fucking fast.

That was bad. Really bad. I mean, sure, big fascist death ball gets blown up, whoopie.

But for me, an Imperial? It was bad news. Rebel cells across the galaxy would be arming up, and the Galactic Civil War would be in full swing soon enough.

That meant problems. I was really hoping that the Commandant would have checked in by now, given me the go ahead to leave. Cause then I could more easily fake my death and escape without anyone trying to track me down.

Now? If I suddenly 'died' the place would get investigated to hell and back for rebel activity, and the traces that might normally go unnoticed would be more likely to be found.

But right now, I had more immediate problems. Those being the condition of Commander Grant, cause I had absolutely 0 clue as to how she was reacting to the news. The reaction of the populous, cause they would not be happy if I started spreading the word that the destruction was justified. And, of course, the Sith.

The Sith who had woken up from their coma and was now demanding to see the hospital staff's leader. Apparently, they had broken the containment unit they were bound in quite easily.

So I was now enroute to where the Sith had holed up. Flanked by my heavy LECA guards, I soon arrived on the scene, Mugwuffin at my side.

Upon entering the room, I noticed a few things. The first was the Sith themselves. Pure red skin, with elongated eyebrows and frilled cheeks. Something I hadn't seen since playing SWTOR.

Pure Blooded Sith.

Their features were like that of an elf, for I couldn't tell their gender. Yet the yellowed eyes were a clear sign that I was dealing with a darksider.

"Are you the leader of these…cretins?" they asked, voice smooth, with little sign of the exhaustion they had to be feeling.

"That would be me." I replied, as an odd sensation was sent across the bond. A sense of deterioration that was foreign combined with a sense of confidence from the bond. If Mugwuffin, Force cat extraordinaire, thought we were safe, I would trust her.

A quick, discreet tap on my belt signalled my security guards to evacuate the area.

After all, even Mugwuffin could make mistakes. Which she usually did to my annoyance.

"I have been freed, after all these millenia. From those bumbling fools that stumbled upon my prison, I have been freed. Tell me, where are we." They spoke, and I could feel the Force roll over me, trying to compel me. Mugwuffin put a stop to that, spines raised.

As the Sith started to notice my little space cat, I made a gamble. This wasn't going to go well, and I couldn't have Mugwuffin exposed.

Angling my head slightly, I made eye contact with the camera of one of my security LECA's.

"Evacuate the area, and leave us be. I have…business with our guest."

"But sir-!"

"Now" I stated, already turning back to the Sith. "I'll deal with this. Evacuate the building, and keep it surrounded. If I'm not out in the next 20 minutes, bring the building down, and turn the ruins to ash."

The Sith's eyebrow raised, but I could see it in their eyes. The fear. They were in a vulnerable position, and I had just placed down an ultimatum. They could've maybe gotten away before, but now?

We were both trapped.

Once my people were out, a quick nudge to Mugwuffin turned the camera's in the room into slag that looked like it went three rounds with a hydraulic press.

"That creature…it's intelligent. And a Force user." They stated, keeping a wary eye on Mugwuffin as she jumped up onto the bed I had seated myself on.

"Irrelevant. We're here for negotiations." I stated plainly. "Your powerful, but not as you are."

I gambled again.

"And, your dying."

Their eyes widened for a fraction of a second, before turning to Mugwuffin.

"It sensed that, did it not?"

"Irrelevant. What does matter, is that you won't make it far. Even if you survive killing me and the destruction of the building, whatever condition you have won't let you get far. Correct?"

They didn't answer, and that was answer enough for me.

"So, again, let us negotiate. What do you want?"

They stilled for a moment, before speaking once more. "I want to know how long it has been since I was trapped in that tomb."

"Given your race, I'd say quite some time. The Pure Blood Sith died out a long time ago. It's been 4000 years since the fall of the Eternal Empire, give or take."

Surprise seemed to grace their face for a second, before being erased. Silence reigned for a bit longer, before they spoke once more.

"Then I will do as all Sith do. I will seek power."

"Not here." I responded. "You can go pillaging across the galaxy for all I care, but I can't have you causing problems here. And it's not like you'd make it far anyways."

Silence once more. Then, a tug from the bond. Mugwuffin had a solution.

"Mugwuffin here claims to be able to fix your problem, though I don't know how."

Again they stared, but this time was different. Through the bond, I could sense Mugwuffin reaching out through the Force. The Sith reached back, and the difference was palpable.

While Mugwuffin's metaphysical handshake was like a cheery office email, nice but professional, the Siths was snake-like. Smooth, but roiling with power just waiting to be unleashed.

Their presences receded, and they spoke once more.

"The…creature. Offers a solution. My body, after feeding on the power of the Force for so long cannot exist without it. Yet, I am unable to draw on any more and survive. This…Mugwuffin offers to connect to me, feed me."

"And?"

They seemed to seethe. "In exchange, I would be bound to its will until such time that my body can function without the Force."

Through the bond, I could sense Mugwuffin's intentions. I certainly didn't like it

I regarded Mugwuffin with a we'll be speaking about this later kinda look, then turned back towards the angry Sith. A combo I'd like to avoid.

"This doesn't seem satisfactory to you, for obvious reasons."

"No. I would rather die tearing this place and as many people as I can apart then be trapped once more."

I nearly paused out of fear, but pushed forwards regardless of the thumping of my heart. Another gamble. Risky, but maybe…

"But you don't want to die."

There was no response because none was needed. We both wanted to make it out of this alive.

"Then I propose a solution. A deal. The Galaxy is about to get a whole lot more dangerous. Mugwuffin isn't powerful so much as she is precise. It's that incredible control that gives her an advantage over those like you. But precision isn't everything."

"What are you suggesting? That I be your slave?" They growled, teeth visibly grinding, the smooth facade over now.

"No. That you be my bodyguard instead. That way, I get the protection I need, you can defend your only chance at survival, and if I end up reneging on my deal, you can just kill me, since you'll be close enough. Mugwuffin would end you right after, but you could probably succeed if you tried. After you're freed, you can leave, and go about your business across the galaxy. I'll even pay you a salary, get you employee benefits. The whole package."

They lifted an eyebrow. "You're offering me…a job?"

I nodded, happy they had picked up on it. This wouldn't last long, only until the Inquisitor came back to pick them up, but this kept them happy for now. "Yup. Sure, there aren't many other options available, but I figured making you uncomfortable and broke while tied to Mugwuffin would be a bad idea. An angry Sith is a stabby Sith, after all."

They cracked the barest hint of a smile at that. "You are not incorrect…very well. While it is beneath me, my current situation gives me little recourse. I will accept your terms, Governor Mola."

"Good." I say, reaching out my hand, and shaking theirs. Their grip is unnecessarily strong, but I don't care. I just averted death with the power of steady employment and adequate medical care.

Truly, a capitalistic miracle.

"And what might your name be?" I asked, knowing that knowing an employee's name is step 0 of effective interpersonal management.

"You may call me Myr'thos, cretin."

Cretin? Been called worse, so I'll deal with it. "Just don't go calling me cretin in public, and we're good."

They snorted. "We'll see"

Minutes later, after I instructed the soldiers surrounding the building to stand down and allow Myr'thos to pass, I'm in my office once more. The Sith is lounging on the couch fiddling with a brand new PDA, absorbing knowledge about the time that had passed them by.

A quick few clicks and their PDA dings with a new message.

As they struggled their way through the menus, I explained.

"Those are the requisition forms for new armor and weapons. Your previous look won't cut it, and neither will a lightsaber. They raise too many questions. Aside from that, go wild. R&D will decide what's viable." This should help cement that this is a long term arrangement in their minds. If the Inquisitor is quick about it, it shouldn't be.

They hissed. "Why should some worthless techies decide what is best for me?"

Without looking up, I continued. "You'll get to test all the stuff before it's finalized anyways, so you can give feedback and the like. Just don't kill them, or generally be super rude. I've tried to create a culture of trust in management here."

"Weakness, that is all I see. Shame that you hold my new chains."

"It's productivity, first of all. Second, it's a contract. And a damn good one too. You'd be hard pres-"

Before I can finish, a call comes through on my comm. It's Oioro.

"Yes?"

She sounds somewhat panicked. Considering she's for sure a spy, that's bad. Real bad.
"Sir! It's the battlestation that destroyed Alderaan!"

Myr'thos perks their head up at that, a sadistic gleam in their eyes. Fuckin sociopath.

"It's been destroyed!"

Fuck.
—-------------------------—-------------------------—-------------------------—-------------------------—------------
Hi there folks! This is the final chapter of this arc, and where I'm going to put this story on hiatus. I love it, I really do, but a step back from Governor's Gambit and some time spent working on other stuff will help me reorient my view of it all. Of course, I'm not abandoning it. I've already said multiple times that I will finish this story, even if the ending ends up being some rushed garbage. I can always go back and rewrite it anyway. Also, in the last chapter I said 'a million souls' cause that's what Obi-wan said. On top of that, while the instant annihilation of billions of people will undoubtedly be felt throughout the galaxy by those attuned to the Force, I really doubt they'd be getting exact numbers. The Force is more feelings than math, after all.

Now, my next story, Mercenaries Guide to the Magical is another OC-SI set in the Percy Jackson world. It will introduce around 7 magic systems to the wider magical world, though I won't be tossing all of it in your faces at once, don't worry. The general structure will be episodic, in that every 3-5 chapters will cover a mission taken on through the magical equivalent of the Mindan Guild or Mercenary Review Board from Battletech(know there's a lot of you guys here). Between these missions will be a few chapters that cover the down time, facilitate time skips, and jump to alternate POV's. I'm excited to get into it, and like this story it will probably go into hiatus a good way in so I can jump back over here. I refuse to leave a story unfinished, like a personal life goal of sorts. Left too many things unfinished, won't let that happen here.

Link to Mercenaries Guide is in my signature.

Feedback and commentary appreciated.

Thanks for reading!

-Freefaller