Chp-62: A Thorne in My Side
My neck craned upwards as I watched the Lambda-class shuttle fly downwards towards the landing pad.
Well, I say landing pad, but it was really more of a hangar at this point. The capitol building tower seemed to always be growing, partially to handle administrative strain, and partially because the architects seem to be dead set on having it be the tallest, most identifiable building in the entire city.
I can only imagine the latest additions of shuttle hangars attached to the sides of the towers were a work of frustration, considering they can't reasonably make the building taller than the Mega-buildings. They can make them prettier though.
Then again, it's not hard to be more aesthetically pleasing than a concrete brick.
Still, the ever present construction of the capitol building wasn't my concern at the moment. What was my concern was the shuttle that was just about to touch down. And the man within.
Myr'thos stood to my side, clad in a simple, if imposing set of red and black armor. They had initially wanted a cape, but Gary told them off. Capes are for central figures, not bodyguards, and draw too much attention.
It was honestly hilarious watching them argue about it. Myr'thos wasn't even doing it out of anger or hatred, just legitimate aesthetic debates.
Apparently, fashion was quite important during their time.
Eventually, they had settled on the armor they now wore. It was very smooth, with sharp lines of red cutting around their limbs. A hood covered part of their helmet, lending to their mysterious vibe.
Combined with the vibroblade at their hip and general aura of malice, Myr'thos made for an effective bodyguard through presence alone. Very professional looking.
All ruined as soon as they spoke, of course, but that's neither here nor there.
What is here is the shuttle, which finally settled down.
The ramp opens, and out steps ISB Agent Thorne. I don't know his first name, and frankly speaking really don't care to learn it.
Thorne is around my height, just shy of 6ft. A very pale man, it looks like he would get sunburnt from a desklap. His eyes, however, were in stark contrast to the rest of his complexion.
They were dark. Not just dark brown, but pitch black eyes. His cornea was normal, but his pupil and iris were the color of night.
It was quite unsettling, but I decided not to comment or stare.
As he approached, I took the initiative.
"Agent Thorne. My name is Las Mola, Governor of the Minda and Edin systems. Welcome to Accordia."
Quick, cordial, respectful but not subservient.
He said nothing for a second, studying me, before responding.
"I was sent here to hunt down the rebel scum that dared to attack the Empire. What leads do you have?"
His voice was sharp, a sort of professional monotone that likely hid a fierce underbelly.
"The Commander will have more details for you, Agent. As far as I know, little has been found. These terrorists use droids as fodder and secrecy as a cloak."
His gaze is intense, but I stand my ground.
"No leads? You have found nothing?"
"As I said, Agent. The Commander has more details in regards to what we know. I urge you to speak to her at the barracks for further information."
I can tell he wants to say something, but I continue. He seems dead set on interrogating me about the rebels, but I have other matters to attend to regarding his arrival.
"As I understand, you and the battalion you brought came on a Victory-II Class. Will said battalion be rotating from the ship, or staying on the ground?"
He seemed a little confused, as if wondering why that would ever be a question I ask.
"Planetside. To facilitate security."
"Wonderful" I say, knowing damn well it isnt. "And the ship? Will it stay in the system?"
"Yes."
Dammit. I know damn well I'll have to foot the fucking bill on this one as well.
All throughout the conversation, we were walking deeper into the building, heading towards the tram station.
Yup. Tram station. Since the capitol and just about every other important Imperial building resided on a single island, it required its own transportation. There were many walking paths, and even a nice park for recreation and down time, but no real roads. So, a tram system.
A few lines running to and from the labs, capitol, barracks, guild HQ, and more ferried hundreds of staff across the island.
As we entered the station, Thornes eyes seemed to whip in every direction, scanning over every detail. On occasion, his brows would quirk. Sometimes in confusion, sometimes in acceptance, and sometimes in disdain.
I could already tell there would be a long conversation ahead of me.
Worsened by the fact that I had my own tram cart. Notably nicer than the others.
The funny thing is, I never asked for this thing. Never commissioned it. It was just assumed I'd want my own.
I never used the damn thing. Took ten minutes to get it out of storage, and by then I would have been halfway to my destination.
Of course, I had it prepared for Thorne's arrival. Toned down somewhat, as the original used gold for some reason. Instead, it was like the other cars. Sleek white and grey, nice carpeted floor, but instead of a row of seats, there was instead a small table in the center.
It was small, yes, but fairly comfortable, with enough space for both of our bodyguards.
Sitting down, the tram started to move not seconds afterwards.
"So, Agent Thorne. What are your plans regarding the rebels? Anything I can assist you with?"
He said nothing for a moment, before responding.
"You employ many aliens, Governor. Why?"
Damn. Straight for the throat. And not at all on topic! Where did he learn his social skills, the fucking Inquisition?
"The majority of the Outer Rim's population is non-human, Agent. It would be inefficient and wasteful to employ only humans in such an environment."
Another pause, more silence. This guy really likes his silence, huh? Must be some kind of interrogation method.
Jokes on him, cause I like the silence! Less time I need to hear him talking.
"Yet, these aliens…they are not slaves. They seem to have positions high in the administration. Explain."
Again with his bullshit! I keep my best poker face on, hiding the fact that my face is attempting to grow a frown by actively thinking about Myr'thos raging after losing a match. The conflict between my attempts to frown and smile kept me in a neutral looking state.
"Slaves don't pay taxes, Agent."
The flash of confusion on his face is priceless! As the tram pulls into the station, and we get off, he turns to me, expression making it clear I should continue.
"The Imperial Guild of Commerce, Production and Protection is how Minda has been able to grow as it has. It encourages local growth, local businesses, and local economies. It then connects these to other systems, offering benefits to all sides and making commerce easier for everyone."
We continue walking through the station, people parting before us as we make our way into the barracks.
"Slavery removes local jobs. It takes a usually significant portion of the population and refuses to pay them, meaning those people aren't spending money. If a large portion of people aren't spending money, then businesses catering to those people don't come to fruition. And competition to said businesses doesn't become a thing. The economy doesn't grow, only the wallets of those who own the most slaves."
Into a large elevator we step. In fact, most of the elevators around the island were quite large. I think it had something to do with moving more troops quicker? But wouldn't that work for both attackers and defenders? Questions for later.
"As to why non-humans are allowed into higher levels of the administration, that's because they have proven themselves. Promotions are based on merit, skill, and dedication. If we didn't reward people for their efforts, they would have little incentive to work diligently."
Finally, we were at the Commanders office. This was, hopefully, the last time I would see Agent Thorne for a while.
Sure, he would likely come bother me with some inane thing or another, but the Commander would get him sorted out. Her competence was just the kind of thing that would help him solve the rebel problem and get him to leave.
I knocked on the door politely, and waited a second before I heard her invite us in.
As we entered, Grant's eyes widened a tad from her position at her desk, before quickly snapping into a salute.
"Governor, Sir!"
I almost want to chuckle. My relationship with my subordinates has always been looser, more casual. Facilitates a better workplace environment.
Agent Thorne, however, doesn't know that, and would likely take exception to it. He is ISB after all. That Grant was able to identify this so quickly speaks to her competence.
"Commander Grant, this is Agent Thorne, here on behalf of the ISB to investigate the recent terrorist attacks. You are to collaborate with him on this assignment."
Turning to face both of them, I continue.
"If you have any need of additional support, don't hesitate to ask. I want these rebels dead and gone ASAP. If you have need of me, I'll be in my office, as usual. Feel free to contact my secretary."
Confident my part in this was finished, I excused myself and made my way out. I had far too much work to do and not nearly enough time to be doing all of this bullshit.
Hell, the only reason I escorted the Agent here personally was to ensure he got here. If I didn't, he probably would've gone off and started doing shit on his own. At least with me there, he couldn't just blow me off, and that combined with my little intellectual conversation, meant I could get him here without him really noticing.
Ah… herd mentality my beloved.
Just as my foot left the doorway, however, the Agent called out to me.
"Governor."
I turn. "Yes Agent?" Please tell me you want to know the best suicide spot around? I'll push you myself!
He looks at me with an inquisitive stare, eyes boring into me like black holes.
"The aliens. Why not motivate them with fear?"
What is this guy, a Tarkin supremacist?
"Fear causes anger. Anger, hatred. And hatred breeds dissent. If the people are kept happy, they have no reason to rebel. No reason to take up arms against their rulers."
And with that, I left. Quick enough that he couldn't ask any questions without having to chase me down, which would look really fucking embarrassing.
And for an ISB Agent? Embarrassment might as well be a death sentence. That entire branch of the Empire is a fucking mess, and I want no part in it.
Getting back on my tram, I pour myself a glass of chocolate milk. And yes, I keep some chilled for these occasions.
I can stop at any time, I promise.
I down the entire glass in a single shot, then offer the rest of the carton to my bodyguards while I look down at my PDA.
I've got a bevy of things to do today, and they all make me want to go find a suicide spot.
Now that I think about it, what is the Mindan suicide rate? Should look into that, cause I'm not sure how much we've invested into mental health facilities around the system.
Regardless, there are many things to do.
Veers sent back her recommendations for cruisers, and I ended up deciding on the Gladiator-Class.
The Strike-Class had been a close contender, especially because I remember some variant or refit of it that made it far better at managing TIE's, but even with that it had a higher crew count.
Which was weird, considering its 200 meters shorter, but it is what it is. A Gladiator is bigger, has more fighter capacity, can operate for long periods of time on its own, and extend the range of fighter based patrols.
Of course, if they want to buy one, we offer them some homegrown TIEs at a little discount.
Aside from that, I had reports to sift through on new production centers opening, more immigrants being let in to try and staff the shipyards(there weren't gonna be enough, no fucking way.), and all the stuff the Guild was getting up to with its new partners.
Lotta uplifting. Lotta new businesses.
A shit ton of cash, now spread between partners. Good stuff.
I held in my sigh. I could release the pressure once I was safe and sound in my office, and not surrounded by my bodyguards.
-
Hi there folks! Wanted to get Agent Thorne in. I would've had the chapter out sooner, but I was grinding WuWa. Got Cartethyia in my very first ten pull, and spent another 2 hours grinding her to lvl 70, plus her skills.
Also, Elden Ring Nightreign. Shit is an absolute BANGER! Like, fucking hell man it somehow just works, ya know? Sure, the upgrades could be better, more consistent with the character you're playing. And maybe upgrades that change playstyles would be cool. Maybe even devil-deal type upgrades the genre likes so much. -10% HP for +15% damage and the like.
Regardless of my vices, finals week is over! While I do have a summer semester, I'll be doing a lot more writing so expect some more frequent updates.
In terms of starships. I thank you all for the suggestions. The Harrower came up a lot, which is kinda weird, because why the hell would anyone build a 1000+ yr old starship? If there even are any schematics left, it would be a major pain in the ass to modernize, for what essentially was just a heavy cruiser that no-ones heard about.
Still, I appreciate the discourse. Always fun to read, and helps keep the creative gears turning.
As always, appreciate the feedback and commentary.
Thanks for reading!
-Freefaller
