Orangeduke38
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Not necessarily, it could be a substantial ship with a crew of a couple hundred a half a squadron of fighters.
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Governor's Gambit - Star Wars SI into Imperial Governor
- Thread starter Freefaller
- Start date
paxus22
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to be honest a light freighter could have a few dozen men .
it just depends how long the travel is from the staging point.
cause if you have like 4-10 crew station /4-10 beds /10 seats in a rec room/ 10seat in a canteen and maybe room for 30 more to sleep on floor.
i can see 20-30 max for a SHORT trip to/from staging ground -- could cram in like sardines 60-100.
all depends on the ship and the distance , dont want the team going stir crazy as sardines .
it just depends how long the travel is from the staging point.
cause if you have like 4-10 crew station /4-10 beds /10 seats in a rec room/ 10seat in a canteen and maybe room for 30 more to sleep on floor.
i can see 20-30 max for a SHORT trip to/from staging ground -- could cram in like sardines 60-100.
all depends on the ship and the distance , dont want the team going stir crazy as sardines .
Roaming_Guardian
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Let's just hope that the yards can handle a 20% mark down and still turn a profit. That's a huge discount.
Yacov
Not too sore, are you?
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There is also maintenance contracts. Any Moff who buys from the Myto shipyards basically turns one or more of their berths into a money printing machine for minimal cost as long as those ship stays in service. Not like there are that many nearby alternatives around.
Wouldn't want a berth being unavailable when those ships get roughed up would you? Better rent out the entire berth on a renewing basis just in case. What are you going to do, try to strongarm the shipyard? Take it up with the other dozen Moffs who have a contract with Las.
Bloaties on Deck
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Yacov
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Omake: Bloaties on Deck
POV: Corporal Jed Bredge, Smuggler's End FarStar CR90f Mess Hall, Minda System, 0ABY.
"So I look at the smuggler lying on the ground and ask: "how's your ventilation system doing?""
Jed always liked being able to hang around with other Bloaties. The rest of the ATR—6 boarding crew were nice, but his profession always felt like it created a fence between them. Maybe it was the smell. They wouldn't last a day shoveling Shaak manure.
"Course he couldn't respond due to coughing on the gas and blinking tears. So I said: "apparently it could use some work. Better get that checked next time." Then I jammed my stun baton into him."
It was obvious the others felt the same way. So whenever a larger ship gathered the smaller patrol vessels for a supply distribution, all of us would get together in the mess hall and swap stories. Jed liked all the whistle work songs everyone came up with.
"Alright, who scared the most crew members on the way to the mess hall by whistling?"
Still, Jed wouldn't trade this job for 200 acres. He had been nervous when he made the decision to go to the recruiter and defend his home. However Brother Dak was the one who was going to inherit the family farm, so Jed had to find his own way.
"Hey get off! That's my dessert cube! Want me to stick a nozzle down your throat?"
Jed still recalls his surprise when they put him on the "experimental soldier track". He didn't even that PDFs had experimental soldiers. Pretty soon they were shooting him into space and putting him through his paces.
"What? I am a big eater. We all got to kept our strength up lugging our sprayers around."
The trainers gave him this fancy and shiny backpack fogger sprayer. It was little less heavy than that time Violet was with child and Jed had to carry her to the Shaak doctor several miles into town. Then they gave him a suit of power and carrying it around got even easier.
"Please. We all know it is the power armor doing most of the heavy lifting for you."
The sprayer worked like the old 3WF-3 Field Queen back at the farm. Then they told Jed it was a Field Queen underneath the shiny metal. They just added a more powerful motor and put a bigger tank with a new liquid. Made learning to do the fixings on it and mixing the chems a breeze. Apparently the gas spray was meant to for herding sentients and making them "com-pliant".
"My favorite part is watching them running around in a panic once they see the gas. It's not fire, but it works."
At least Jed wasn't part of the group that tried to use agricultural flamers. Those guys never even got deployed due to a lack of nonlethal options from sucking out all the air. Plus the fuel tanks would explode when hit with blaster fire. He'll stick to his non-exploding herding spray thank you every much.
"So who won the Smallest Ship You Had to Cram Into Award this month? Mine was a Rigger."
Jed's job these days was to help clear out bad ships after the bigger ships in the fleet make them stop moving. Most of the ships his team boarded were smaller than the family barn. He tended to not even use half his tank before the crew either gave up or he filled the whole ship.
"That's nothing. Who won in the Ship You Thought Was Going to Explode on You category? I swear that Stock Freighter I breached worked more as a museum piece than a smuggling ship with the amount of rust it had."
It was rare for someone to shoot at Jed, given he could just stay behind cover while doing his job. There were times when he didn't even have to set foot on the disabled ship. He could sit back at the insertion point and pump gas. Most of the life support in small ships around these parts were either too weak or too poorly maintained to filter it out once it started spreading.
"Shame we don't actually get to swing with those suits of ours, but I guess that's what the rest of the breach time is for."
Course there were times where Jed had to go aboard. Like when the "non-com-pliants" seal themselves off in a compartment and they brought Jed to fill it up. He always made sure to take out the fancy cattle prod they gave him, not that he had to use it in anger yet.
"Our herd does sacred horticultural work. Choking out the weeds and vermin that would despoil the Mother Minda's lush fields."
Heck, plenty of folk just drop their weapons when they see Jed round the corner whistling and prepping to spray. Guess they were really scared of coughing and crying. Still wasn't as good at that stuff as Traal. Maybe the Ithorian was just better with words than Jed.
"Hey Jed, you haven't spoken up. Got any stories to share with us?"
Still, Jed was happy with how things were going. He got fed big meals three times a day. The pay was enough for his whittling hobby and extra to send back to the farm. There was even a cute girl at the station cantina that Jed had his eye on impressing.
"Yeah big guy. We all want to hear what you got up to since we all last got together."
Let the big ships and elite forces handle the bigger stuff. Jed will be here, keeping the little Shaak Rustlers and Trandoshan Oil Salespeople of the galaxy out of Minda's fields of black.
——
So the prompt for this one was wondering how Mindan fleet deals with all those small vessels filled with hostile smugglers, pirates, and noncompliant civilians once the system patrol ships disable them. The result was the least favorite Imperial troop among the Myto Sector Spacer Community: the MSDF Gas Marine. Turns out Palpatine lifted a lot of weapons restrictions when turning the Imperial Military into an army of terror.
Crossposted on SB and SV
POV: Corporal Jed Bredge, Smuggler's End FarStar CR90f Mess Hall, Minda System, 0ABY.
"So I look at the smuggler lying on the ground and ask: "how's your ventilation system doing?""
Jed always liked being able to hang around with other Bloaties. The rest of the ATR—6 boarding crew were nice, but his profession always felt like it created a fence between them. Maybe it was the smell. They wouldn't last a day shoveling Shaak manure.
"Course he couldn't respond due to coughing on the gas and blinking tears. So I said: "apparently it could use some work. Better get that checked next time." Then I jammed my stun baton into him."
It was obvious the others felt the same way. So whenever a larger ship gathered the smaller patrol vessels for a supply distribution, all of us would get together in the mess hall and swap stories. Jed liked all the whistle work songs everyone came up with.
"Alright, who scared the most crew members on the way to the mess hall by whistling?"
Still, Jed wouldn't trade this job for 200 acres. He had been nervous when he made the decision to go to the recruiter and defend his home. However Brother Dak was the one who was going to inherit the family farm, so Jed had to find his own way.
"Hey get off! That's my dessert cube! Want me to stick a nozzle down your throat?"
Jed still recalls his surprise when they put him on the "experimental soldier track". He didn't even that PDFs had experimental soldiers. Pretty soon they were shooting him into space and putting him through his paces.
"What? I am a big eater. We all got to kept our strength up lugging our sprayers around."
The trainers gave him this fancy and shiny backpack fogger sprayer. It was little less heavy than that time Violet was with child and Jed had to carry her to the Shaak doctor several miles into town. Then they gave him a suit of power and carrying it around got even easier.
"Please. We all know it is the power armor doing most of the heavy lifting for you."
The sprayer worked like the old 3WF-3 Field Queen back at the farm. Then they told Jed it was a Field Queen underneath the shiny metal. They just added a more powerful motor and put a bigger tank with a new liquid. Made learning to do the fixings on it and mixing the chems a breeze. Apparently the gas spray was meant to for herding sentients and making them "com-pliant".
"My favorite part is watching them running around in a panic once they see the gas. It's not fire, but it works."
At least Jed wasn't part of the group that tried to use agricultural flamers. Those guys never even got deployed due to a lack of nonlethal options from sucking out all the air. Plus the fuel tanks would explode when hit with blaster fire. He'll stick to his non-exploding herding spray thank you every much.
"So who won the Smallest Ship You Had to Cram Into Award this month? Mine was a Rigger."
Jed's job these days was to help clear out bad ships after the bigger ships in the fleet make them stop moving. Most of the ships his team boarded were smaller than the family barn. He tended to not even use half his tank before the crew either gave up or he filled the whole ship.
"That's nothing. Who won in the Ship You Thought Was Going to Explode on You category? I swear that Stock Freighter I breached worked more as a museum piece than a smuggling ship with the amount of rust it had."
It was rare for someone to shoot at Jed, given he could just stay behind cover while doing his job. There were times when he didn't even have to set foot on the disabled ship. He could sit back at the insertion point and pump gas. Most of the life support in small ships around these parts were either too weak or too poorly maintained to filter it out once it started spreading.
"Shame we don't actually get to swing with those suits of ours, but I guess that's what the rest of the breach time is for."
Course there were times where Jed had to go aboard. Like when the "non-com-pliants" seal themselves off in a compartment and they brought Jed to fill it up. He always made sure to take out the fancy cattle prod they gave him, not that he had to use it in anger yet.
"Our herd does sacred horticultural work. Choking out the weeds and vermin that would despoil the Mother Minda's lush fields."
Heck, plenty of folk just drop their weapons when they see Jed round the corner whistling and prepping to spray. Guess they were really scared of coughing and crying. Still wasn't as good at that stuff as Traal. Maybe the Ithorian was just better with words than Jed.
"Hey Jed, you haven't spoken up. Got any stories to share with us?"
Still, Jed was happy with how things were going. He got fed big meals three times a day. The pay was enough for his whittling hobby and extra to send back to the farm. There was even a cute girl at the station cantina that Jed had his eye on impressing.
"Yeah big guy. We all want to hear what you got up to since we all last got together."
Let the big ships and elite forces handle the bigger stuff. Jed will be here, keeping the little Shaak Rustlers and Trandoshan Oil Salespeople of the galaxy out of Minda's fields of black.
——
So the prompt for this one was wondering how Mindan fleet deals with all those small vessels filled with hostile smugglers, pirates, and noncompliant civilians once the system patrol ships disable them. The result was the least favorite Imperial troop among the Myto Sector Spacer Community: the MSDF Gas Marine. Turns out Palpatine lifted a lot of weapons restrictions when turning the Imperial Military into an army of terror.
Crossposted on SB and SV
Last edited:
Vengeful-Astartes
Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?
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I would prefer you to finish this fic before starting another.
Vengeful-Astartes
Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?
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Sadness and disapointment. This fic has so much going for it.
he is in a prime position to start expanding his power base and forming his own fiefdom, for his own proctection of course.
he is in a prime position to start expanding his power base and forming his own fiefdom, for his own proctection of course.
Rustic
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Chp-54: Spy's and Tie's
Thanks for the update. Having seen the video for doom. I have to say i really am appreciative that you squeezed out a mini chapter. That game looks addictive.
That and Doom: The Dark Ages has consumed me. Shits peak fiction frfr.
I was hoping this was a new story that you were recommending me
Feedback and commentary appreciated.
-Thanks for reading!
Thanks for writing.
All right for feed back. Honestly i would like a good solid chapter of what los is doing after the shipyards arrive. A bit of a time skip. Also any other updates within the two systems he controls.
Maybe touch back on some soldiers who went through local planetary defense course training. There equipment. You really have not touched on the ground pounders and there training. Other than your angry commander who lost her home planet.
Just how good is the ground pounders training? how good is the combat arms of the clerks? Are they basically civilians with a uniform? I bet with as much as the governor pas investing. I believe the clerks and admins dont relax at all and still maintian weekly training at the ranges.
Commentary, got nothing on this chapter except thanks for continuing to write.
Thanks for the update. Having seen the video for doom. I have to say i really am appreciative that you squeezed out a mini chapter. That game looks addictive.
That and Doom: The Dark Ages has consumed me. Shits peak fiction frfr.
I was hoping this was a new story that you were recommending me
Feedback and commentary appreciated.
-Thanks for reading!
Thanks for writing.
All right for feed back. Honestly i would like a good solid chapter of what los is doing after the shipyards arrive. A bit of a time skip. Also any other updates within the two systems he controls.
Maybe touch back on some soldiers who went through local planetary defense course training. There equipment. You really have not touched on the ground pounders and there training. Other than your angry commander who lost her home planet.
Just how good is the ground pounders training? how good is the combat arms of the clerks? Are they basically civilians with a uniform? I bet with as much as the governor pas investing. I believe the clerks and admins dont relax at all and still maintian weekly training at the ranges.
Commentary, got nothing on this chapter except thanks for continuing to write.
Mastersgt
Well worn.
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Honestly confused why the MC, or even more shockingly, his subordinates/employee's, never tried to put more effort into Medical R&D, in an effort to heal his Scars, and improve their general medical ability. Plus, it seemed like a perfect setup, at the time, for another funny situation where R&D failed Successfully and wound up making some kind of huge success, possibly even something that could have healed Vader, the Emperor, regrown Luke's hand, etc...
sperance
Connoisseur.
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Las doesn't particularly care about his scars and, if they don't bother him, his subordinates won't think of trying to fix them because why would they? They are just ugly, it's not like they affect his health.
Fearless444
Getting sticky.
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Is that not already a thing
swtoring
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It's a thing but only for really rich people and it's a plot point in the bad batch that cloning force sensitives never really works out, leading to the pursuit of omega so that the imperials can use her dna to experiment on a relatively uniform group (fett clones) since due to their minimal genetic deviations from one another they make for perfect almost identical test subjects
Yacov
Not too sore, are you?
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The two main species that I remember of being able to pull off limb and organ cloning are the Kaminoans and the Arkanians. The Kaminoans and a lot of their research gets blown up in the Bad Batch so that's going to be hard to salvage.
While the Arkanians are often so arrogant that the Empire struggle to work with them. Let me repeat that: these genetic and cybernetic wizards are so arrogant, that many in the Empire find it a crippling detriment to working with them. They are stereotypical Elf levels of arrogance and superiority complex. A lot of Arkanian scientists that do work for the Empire go into the bio weapons division.
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swtoring
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It's important to mention they supposedly made starwars elves (sephi) and i believe that since to quote a classic "sephi are for sex"
Sanguine
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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That tech does already exist. Vader could at anytime get a better suit at the very least. The problem is Sheevy intentionally made him a shitty suit to keep him weak and if Vader started to upgrade Palps would get suspicions.
seamus
Getting sticky.
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He'll wasn't there a asteroid that's housed a hospital that litteraly regrows bodies for people? I know Vader killed them all eventually but Vader had a chance to get a brand new body without palpys oversight
None of your bee wax!
Listing, lists, and other things
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Now that raises the several questions:
Does the Star Wars universe have the capability to remove and transplant a brain into a new body, and still be force compatible?
Can they clone a Force capable subject? (If the subject is a Force user, then what stops the clone from fighting for it survival: since it can get a rough idea f it`s fate if it doesn`t fight for its life?) I doubt that they do Force clones as they probably don`t have any Ysalamiri to help with that.
For the capability to do so, check out the B`omarr order in legends with Bib Fortuna and his body-snatching adventure.
B'omarr Order/Legends
The B'omarr Order, which consisted of the B'omarr Monks, was a religious order that moved to the planet Tatooine around 700 BBY. The B'omarr believed that cutting themselves off from all physical sensation would further their studies, and allow them to ponder the galaxy and achieve...
Clone madness
Clone madness was an affliction of clones. If a clone was grown too quickly, the clone's mind would begin to deteriorate, leading to psychosis. The shortest time to normally grow a clone was one standard year, and between three and five years was considered necessary to prevent the risk. The...
Ysalamiri/Legends
Ysalamiri were lizard-like tree-dwellers about 50 centimeters in length native to the planet Myrkr, most known for their ability to repel the Force by creating a Force-neutral bubble. This ability evolved in response to predation by the Force-sensitive vornskrs. Many ysalamiri grouped together...
seamus
Getting sticky.
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It depends if we're talking canon or legends legends had a force sensitive clone from kamino but the hospital didn't make cloned soldiers they made cloned bodies and moved the person between whether that's the soul or not idkNow that raises the several questions:
Does the Star Wars universe have the capability to remove and transplant a brain into a new body, and still be force compatible?
Can they clone a Force capable subject? (If the subject is a Force user, then what stops the clone from fighting for it survival: since it can get a rough idea f it`s fate if it doesn`t fight for its life?) I doubt that they do Force clones as they probably don`t have any Ysalamiri to help with that.
For the capability to do so, check out the B`omarr order in legends with Bib Fortuna and his body-snatching adventure.
B'omarr Order/Legends
The B'omarr Order, which consisted of the B'omarr Monks, was a religious order that moved to the planet Tatooine around 700 BBY. The B'omarr believed that cutting themselves off from all physical sensation would further their studies, and allow them to ponder the galaxy and achieve...starwars.fandom.com
Clone madness
Clone madness was an affliction of clones. If a clone was grown too quickly, the clone's mind would begin to deteriorate, leading to psychosis. The shortest time to normally grow a clone was one standard year, and between three and five years was considered necessary to prevent the risk. The...
Ysalamiri/Legends
Ysalamiri were lizard-like tree-dwellers about 50 centimeters in length native to the planet Myrkr, most known for their ability to repel the Force by creating a Force-neutral bubble. This ability evolved in response to predation by the Force-sensitive vornskrs. Many ysalamiri grouped together...
Vengeful-Astartes
Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?
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Can't to read what come next t
Chp-55: The Blueprint of Tomorrow
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Freefaller
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Chp-55: The Blueprint of Tomorrow
I stared at Oioro.
She stared back.
Neither one of us spoke for a few seconds.
"...How much?"
"9 billion."
"How."
She smiled this smug little smile that tore me between wanting to pinch her cheeks or punch her in the face.
Honestly leaning towards the latter.
"I used my 'contacts', as you suggested."
I sighed, plopping my head in my hands. This fucking spy. I don't know what fucking blackmail or corporate secrets she was able to drag from the depths of RHE or, god forbid, KDY itself. And frankly speaking? I don't want to know.
"Ok…Ok, I'm not going to question that. Your report mentioned extra assets. What do you mean?"
As I ask my questions, I get a ping alerting me to Commander Grant's presence outside my office. Odd, considering she still has like a week left of vacation.
I let her in, silently motioning for her to wait on the couch. She nodded, setting down a small box on the coffee table before her. I also noticed she was in casual wear. Baggy pants that flowed up into a tighter shirt, with a trench coat covering the rest, all in Imperial white and grey.
Suffice to say, in this drip or drown world, she was undeniably dripping.
If Oioro noticed my actions, she didn't respond, instead answering my earlier question.
"During negotiations, I was able to leverage certain…informational assets to reduce the acquisition cost. While the yards could be purchased for less than the current price, I saw fit to gain access to certain manufacturing centers that are currently unused."
Factories. She tanked the price and got us fucking factories. I would be in awe of this competence if it didn't scare the shit outta me.
She continued, seemingly unaware of my little internal freak out. "These factories contain specialized machines made for creating more complex internal parts for ships, which RHE will no longer need. This will allow us to reduce the amount of external shipping needed."
I resist the urge to sigh. "Good work. When will you be back?"
"Another week at best."
"Alright. Once you're back, take a few days off. You've earned it." Finishing the call, I turn to the Commander.
"I was under the impression you were still on leave, Kaela." I decided to go with her name here, since she seemed to be here for more personal reasons.
She nodded, eyes darting around as if they didn't quite know where to look, before hoisting the bag she was holding. From within, she retrieved a wooden mug.
It was smooth and simple, roughly the same size as my own mugs.
"This…is for the mug you gave me." She said, almost…bashful!?!? The fuck? Her eyes were shifting to the side, her body language seemed actually fucking shy!?
I force myself not to react to the hyper-deadly war machine acting like she's never given a gift before. Which, to be fair, I don't think she ever has.
Running my hand over the mug, it felt smooth, simple. Honestly, the best(and only) gift I've been given since I found myself in this universe.
"It's quite nice. Where did you buy it?"
"I made it."
Huh?
I blink a few times in confusion. I told her to take a chill pill, and she listened? She got a fucking hobby?
My head turns towards the nearest window, looking for flying pigs, just in case.
Nothing. Fuck.
Still, I have to respond.
"Thank you, Commander. Your gift is greatly appreciated." I respond, not knowing what else to say. Is there something I should say? Considering the fact that she was just standing there, trying to stay professional but clearly somewhat nervous, I feel like something needs to be said.
"...Governor, may I return to duty-"
"You still have a week off, Commander."
She pouted. Pouted! She only ever pouted when I told her she couldn't massacre civvies! Where the hell did the murderous beast I was used to tiptoeing around go!?
"Go enjoy your life, Commander. I'll see you in a week."
She saluted, annoyance clear in her eyes, and made her way out. Fuck me, that was stressful.
I lean back into my chair, letting out the breath I was holding. Even if she was relaxing somewhat, she was still a dangerous monster of a woman.
Mugwuffin laid her head on my lap, and I scratched that space behind her spines that she liked so much. Her purrs calmed me.
Treatbarbequefood
I flick her on the nose. "You got a treat not 30 minutes ago."
Annoyancehungertreattreattreattreat
As I bantered with the Force cat, I considered my plans.
4 years. I had to survive for the next 4 years. Once the Empire went down the drain, shit would get freaky.
I wasn't entirely sure which timeline I was in, though Thrawn's actions pointed towards canon. Regardless of which timeline I was in, things were going to get bad post-endor.
Canon wise, the Empire fractures, and any Imperial Remnants are small. The New Republic goes the way of the Old Republic, and the rest of the galaxy is left holding the bag. Now, this would present me with ample opportunities to hide away, and the lack of proper organization would let me stealthily steal a couple million credits and start a small business on a planet big enough to survive, but small enough to hide in.
Until the First Order happens, but they don't last particularly long, and only blow up a few planets. Easy enough to dodge.
Legends is the real problem here. Cause the Empire doesn't die, it just breaks into a million warlords vying for a useless throne. The Pentastar Alignment, and who knows how many other statelets and the like will emerge, desperate to cling onto useless power.
Don't they know the sheer weight of paperwork that such power produces!? Of course not, those fools would just delegate it all, or ignore it, and then be surprised when their populace rebels or the economy collapses!
Regardless, both continuities promised naught but problems. Which is why my escape plan has to be foolproof.
I needed to fake my death, steal a shit ton of money, and run away to some place I could hide quite easily.
My first thought was of Coruscant. Sure, the center of the galaxy seems like the worst place to hide, but it's also the most populated planet ever. If I get the right paperwork and disguise, I could disappear there, one amongst trillions.
The First Order never managed to land on Coruscant, even after attacking it twice, meaning I'd be safe. The Yuuzhan Vong, on the other hand, do manage to attack the ecumenopolis. Far worse, and immediately crossed the city-planet off my list.
Naboo? I don't remember it being particularly important post-endor. Part of the NR, sure, but so were half the planets in the galaxy. Pretty peaceful as well, so it's a solid option.
Sullust? Nah, Sorosub controls everything. Muun? Also nah, I'd get tricked into a life debt in an hour.
I mused over my options. There were plenty, but none seemed particularly appealing to me.
"I could just go full on merchant, couldn't I?" I look down at Muwuffin, meeting her gaze.
"How does that sound? Travelling the galaxy, seeing the sights?" She purrs.
Contentmenthappinessjoy
"Welp. That settles it." And honestly, it did. I'd always wanted an adventure of sorts, and the ability to travel the galaxy, meeting interesting people, exploring new cultures, seeing new sights, and making fat stacks of cash all the while seems perfect!
Before I can continue my musings, one of my many preset alarms goes off. I set a bevy of these each day to remind myself to get to work. Contrary to popular belief, I am a procrastinator and hate doing work. I only do so much because I fear for my life.
And so, I return to my terminal. Reading reports on Darna's expansions on Edin, Commodore Veer's pirate clean up, and more. Hell, it seems Alvi is teaching a class for elite students over there on occasion. Neat. Maybe that'll keep her away. I don't want to deal with a dead guy's family drama.
There was a lot to go over. For example, because the Moff had already started decreasing quotas as they came in, we were free to sell more of the materials we mined and refined, increasing revenue by a fair amount. This let me essentially toss money at different problems.
For example, the city of Rolling Green's was expanding its farmlands by a shit ton. The problem? They were reaching the limit of easily accessible suitable farmland in the valley the city was located in. Other areas are difficult to access. The companies there were thinking about vertical farming, but the power draw for such facilities is quite high. Therefore, I just threw money at them for the construction of some new solar farms and a generator. Should keep up for a decent while, if nothing else.
There were other problems as well, of course. New mining installations need expansion to deal with the abundance of resources. Rise in local demand for our TIE variants exceeding local production. Reports about some weird resources on that jungle death world that I didnt want to touch with a ten foot pole. Some people asking around about the LECA's(I just told them to come by in a few days so Oioro could handle them).
Suffice to say, I remained busy for many hours more.
Still, in the back of my head, that little dream of a ship and the open sky remained.
Freedom.
-
Hi there folks! Sorry for the delay, but as those who read my other fic know, it's the final weeks of my semester, and I gotta lock tf in. That, and I have recently come to realize that this fic has grown farther than I ever imagined, or even planned for. Not that there was much of a plan to begin with.
That is to say I came into this with no fucking clue what I was doing, and am now dealing with at least 4000 of you on Spacebattles alone. This means more planning will be going into full arcs, characters will be expanded on to the best of my ability so they feel like characters instead of names that occasionally talk, and I'll try to both tie up loose plot holes and avoid creating any new ones.
Also, since this has been on my mind recently. Las does plan on eventually exploring the galaxy as some sort of merchant/trader. What ship should he do it in? Light freighter type beat, or a proper crew sorta thing? I'm curious to see y'alls responses, cause you guys do way more analysis than I ever think to do.
As always, feedback and commentary is appreciated.
Thanks for reading!
-Freefaller
I stared at Oioro.
She stared back.
Neither one of us spoke for a few seconds.
"...How much?"
"9 billion."
"How."
She smiled this smug little smile that tore me between wanting to pinch her cheeks or punch her in the face.
Honestly leaning towards the latter.
"I used my 'contacts', as you suggested."
I sighed, plopping my head in my hands. This fucking spy. I don't know what fucking blackmail or corporate secrets she was able to drag from the depths of RHE or, god forbid, KDY itself. And frankly speaking? I don't want to know.
"Ok…Ok, I'm not going to question that. Your report mentioned extra assets. What do you mean?"
As I ask my questions, I get a ping alerting me to Commander Grant's presence outside my office. Odd, considering she still has like a week left of vacation.
I let her in, silently motioning for her to wait on the couch. She nodded, setting down a small box on the coffee table before her. I also noticed she was in casual wear. Baggy pants that flowed up into a tighter shirt, with a trench coat covering the rest, all in Imperial white and grey.
Suffice to say, in this drip or drown world, she was undeniably dripping.
If Oioro noticed my actions, she didn't respond, instead answering my earlier question.
"During negotiations, I was able to leverage certain…informational assets to reduce the acquisition cost. While the yards could be purchased for less than the current price, I saw fit to gain access to certain manufacturing centers that are currently unused."
Factories. She tanked the price and got us fucking factories. I would be in awe of this competence if it didn't scare the shit outta me.
She continued, seemingly unaware of my little internal freak out. "These factories contain specialized machines made for creating more complex internal parts for ships, which RHE will no longer need. This will allow us to reduce the amount of external shipping needed."
I resist the urge to sigh. "Good work. When will you be back?"
"Another week at best."
"Alright. Once you're back, take a few days off. You've earned it." Finishing the call, I turn to the Commander.
"I was under the impression you were still on leave, Kaela." I decided to go with her name here, since she seemed to be here for more personal reasons.
She nodded, eyes darting around as if they didn't quite know where to look, before hoisting the bag she was holding. From within, she retrieved a wooden mug.
It was smooth and simple, roughly the same size as my own mugs.
"This…is for the mug you gave me." She said, almost…bashful!?!? The fuck? Her eyes were shifting to the side, her body language seemed actually fucking shy!?
I force myself not to react to the hyper-deadly war machine acting like she's never given a gift before. Which, to be fair, I don't think she ever has.
Running my hand over the mug, it felt smooth, simple. Honestly, the best(and only) gift I've been given since I found myself in this universe.
"It's quite nice. Where did you buy it?"
"I made it."
Huh?
I blink a few times in confusion. I told her to take a chill pill, and she listened? She got a fucking hobby?
My head turns towards the nearest window, looking for flying pigs, just in case.
Nothing. Fuck.
Still, I have to respond.
"Thank you, Commander. Your gift is greatly appreciated." I respond, not knowing what else to say. Is there something I should say? Considering the fact that she was just standing there, trying to stay professional but clearly somewhat nervous, I feel like something needs to be said.
"...Governor, may I return to duty-"
"You still have a week off, Commander."
She pouted. Pouted! She only ever pouted when I told her she couldn't massacre civvies! Where the hell did the murderous beast I was used to tiptoeing around go!?
"Go enjoy your life, Commander. I'll see you in a week."
She saluted, annoyance clear in her eyes, and made her way out. Fuck me, that was stressful.
I lean back into my chair, letting out the breath I was holding. Even if she was relaxing somewhat, she was still a dangerous monster of a woman.
Mugwuffin laid her head on my lap, and I scratched that space behind her spines that she liked so much. Her purrs calmed me.
Treatbarbequefood
I flick her on the nose. "You got a treat not 30 minutes ago."
Annoyancehungertreattreattreattreat
As I bantered with the Force cat, I considered my plans.
4 years. I had to survive for the next 4 years. Once the Empire went down the drain, shit would get freaky.
I wasn't entirely sure which timeline I was in, though Thrawn's actions pointed towards canon. Regardless of which timeline I was in, things were going to get bad post-endor.
Canon wise, the Empire fractures, and any Imperial Remnants are small. The New Republic goes the way of the Old Republic, and the rest of the galaxy is left holding the bag. Now, this would present me with ample opportunities to hide away, and the lack of proper organization would let me stealthily steal a couple million credits and start a small business on a planet big enough to survive, but small enough to hide in.
Until the First Order happens, but they don't last particularly long, and only blow up a few planets. Easy enough to dodge.
Legends is the real problem here. Cause the Empire doesn't die, it just breaks into a million warlords vying for a useless throne. The Pentastar Alignment, and who knows how many other statelets and the like will emerge, desperate to cling onto useless power.
Don't they know the sheer weight of paperwork that such power produces!? Of course not, those fools would just delegate it all, or ignore it, and then be surprised when their populace rebels or the economy collapses!
Regardless, both continuities promised naught but problems. Which is why my escape plan has to be foolproof.
I needed to fake my death, steal a shit ton of money, and run away to some place I could hide quite easily.
My first thought was of Coruscant. Sure, the center of the galaxy seems like the worst place to hide, but it's also the most populated planet ever. If I get the right paperwork and disguise, I could disappear there, one amongst trillions.
The First Order never managed to land on Coruscant, even after attacking it twice, meaning I'd be safe. The Yuuzhan Vong, on the other hand, do manage to attack the ecumenopolis. Far worse, and immediately crossed the city-planet off my list.
Naboo? I don't remember it being particularly important post-endor. Part of the NR, sure, but so were half the planets in the galaxy. Pretty peaceful as well, so it's a solid option.
Sullust? Nah, Sorosub controls everything. Muun? Also nah, I'd get tricked into a life debt in an hour.
I mused over my options. There were plenty, but none seemed particularly appealing to me.
"I could just go full on merchant, couldn't I?" I look down at Muwuffin, meeting her gaze.
"How does that sound? Travelling the galaxy, seeing the sights?" She purrs.
Contentmenthappinessjoy
"Welp. That settles it." And honestly, it did. I'd always wanted an adventure of sorts, and the ability to travel the galaxy, meeting interesting people, exploring new cultures, seeing new sights, and making fat stacks of cash all the while seems perfect!
Before I can continue my musings, one of my many preset alarms goes off. I set a bevy of these each day to remind myself to get to work. Contrary to popular belief, I am a procrastinator and hate doing work. I only do so much because I fear for my life.
And so, I return to my terminal. Reading reports on Darna's expansions on Edin, Commodore Veer's pirate clean up, and more. Hell, it seems Alvi is teaching a class for elite students over there on occasion. Neat. Maybe that'll keep her away. I don't want to deal with a dead guy's family drama.
There was a lot to go over. For example, because the Moff had already started decreasing quotas as they came in, we were free to sell more of the materials we mined and refined, increasing revenue by a fair amount. This let me essentially toss money at different problems.
For example, the city of Rolling Green's was expanding its farmlands by a shit ton. The problem? They were reaching the limit of easily accessible suitable farmland in the valley the city was located in. Other areas are difficult to access. The companies there were thinking about vertical farming, but the power draw for such facilities is quite high. Therefore, I just threw money at them for the construction of some new solar farms and a generator. Should keep up for a decent while, if nothing else.
There were other problems as well, of course. New mining installations need expansion to deal with the abundance of resources. Rise in local demand for our TIE variants exceeding local production. Reports about some weird resources on that jungle death world that I didnt want to touch with a ten foot pole. Some people asking around about the LECA's(I just told them to come by in a few days so Oioro could handle them).
Suffice to say, I remained busy for many hours more.
Still, in the back of my head, that little dream of a ship and the open sky remained.
Freedom.
-
Hi there folks! Sorry for the delay, but as those who read my other fic know, it's the final weeks of my semester, and I gotta lock tf in. That, and I have recently come to realize that this fic has grown farther than I ever imagined, or even planned for. Not that there was much of a plan to begin with.
That is to say I came into this with no fucking clue what I was doing, and am now dealing with at least 4000 of you on Spacebattles alone. This means more planning will be going into full arcs, characters will be expanded on to the best of my ability so they feel like characters instead of names that occasionally talk, and I'll try to both tie up loose plot holes and avoid creating any new ones.
Also, since this has been on my mind recently. Las does plan on eventually exploring the galaxy as some sort of merchant/trader. What ship should he do it in? Light freighter type beat, or a proper crew sorta thing? I'm curious to see y'alls responses, cause you guys do way more analysis than I ever think to do.
As always, feedback and commentary is appreciated.
Thanks for reading!
-Freefaller
Stelarwand030
Versed in the lewd.
- Joined
- Nov 25, 2017
- Messages
- 1,034
- Likes received
- 5,654
Thank you so much for the chapter I had another 20 minutes on my lunch break and I have nothing to read. Thank you so much
ValkyrBlack
No longer a student and now trying to survive
- Joined
- Jan 18, 2020
- Messages
- 756
- Likes received
- 7,082
Bros deadline will keep on being extended
CannibalPride
Just an average below-average guy
- Joined
- Sep 18, 2019
- Messages
- 180
- Likes received
- 2,923
Go be a Rogue Trader!
Fanof1
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Jan 11, 2021
- Messages
- 363
- Likes received
- 1,573
I'm always willing to shillings out for Lucrehulks and and battledroids (commando droids in particular). Go big! Have a mechanized fleet of Lucrehulks (and accompanying droid armies and armor) and go galavanting around the galaxy. Really stir the pot with a fleet like that (if the story ever gets there).