Important links:

>Synopsis of Dark Empire
https://pastebin.com/h7uFmbpt

>Archive
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=Dark+Empire

>Pastebin for info dumps
https://pastebin.com/u/Timekiller21

>Twitter feed I use to announce planned game times.
https://twitter.com/DarkEmpireQuest

>This is the map system I use for planning
http://www.swgalaxymap.com/

>Official political map
http://imgur.com/a/xEgBf

I allow between ten and twenty minutes for voting depending on the importance of the issue and how divided the vote is. If the vote is tied up, I usually allow an extra five minutes for a tie breaker, and if no one votes, I roll for the tie breaker (The will of the Dark Side).

I always try to incorporate (and encourage!) write ins if they don't violate the spirit of voted decisions, though I may edit or tweak them to fit better.

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The bulk freighter filled nearly the entire bridge viewport of Retribution, at this range it was clear the freighter had lived a hard life. Covered with dents, scrapes and carbon scoring, there was no telling how old she was. Though none of her distant history mattered so much now. What was important was the charges her captain and crew were facing: Smuggling.

"Commander Tyrna?"

A precise, insistent voice chimed from behind you.

"Yes, ensign?"

"Boarding teams reported in, they've confirmed the freighter is carrying contraband, ma'am."

The eternal hunt for contraband, a ridiculously mundane assignment for one of the Empire's front-line warships, but a necessary task all the same.

"Contraband?" you peak an eyebrow, "Of what nature?" Your reaction was that it was weapons to feed the smoldering guerrilla war being waged on Corellia by the remnants of the Rebel ground forces trapped on the planet.

"C-class contraband, ma'am," the ensign recites dryly, "Circuit boards and blank datatape manufactured on Bothawui."

You keep a straight face but internally sigh, all things considered, not the most serious infraction, trading with the enemy, but still a crime under Imperial law. New Republic manufacturers could, and frequently did undercut their Imperial equivalents with cheaper, superior product. Economics weren't your forte but you understood it had something to do with free market competition. Still, it was rot that needed to be cleaned out.

"And the crew?"

"Taken into custody ma'am. I was about to impound their vessel and contact CorSec for prisoner transfer."

Corellia was famously independent in outlook, so much that they took their law enforcement largely into their own hands with only a minimum of Imperial supervision. You'd heard it rumored that CorSec was occasionally a hotbed for Rebels and frequently turned a blind eye to their activity. Their view on smugglers was less progressive.

>Very good ensign
>Destroy the ship, jettison the crew. This sector needs a harsher stance to squash criminal activity
>These scum will pay their debt to the Empire. Conscript the crew and commandeer the freighter, the navy is a hungry beast.
>Write in

>>1918763
My body is ready.

>>1918767
>Very good ensign
Conscripting crews is what lead to the fleet rebellion.

>>1918767
>Destroy the ship, jettison the crew. This sector needs a harsher stance to squash criminal activity

Let's see if they will continue to smuggle stuff into the empire after being made of as a example

Also glad to see you are running today i tought you would run only thursday.

>>1918767
>These scum will pay their debt to the Empire. Jettison the crew and commandeer the freighter, the navy is a hungry beast.

>>1918776
Welcome back!

>>1918785
>Also glad to see you are running today i tought you would run only thursday.

Noooo. There IS a new schedule, but it's nearly identical to the old one.
Looking like:

Tues/Thurs/Sat
then
Tues/Thus/Sun

Alternating. I will also run three weeks and take one week off. This is the compromise I struck with my schedule. We'll see how it works.

>>1918797
Pretty good. Glad you are back too.
>>1918794
>>1918783

Bothians are spies anons these guys were trying to put spy hardware in imperial domain.

>>1918810
its a freighter?

>Very good ensign
>>1918776


>Destroy the ship, jettison the crew. This sector needs a harsher stance to squash criminal activity
>>1918785

>These scum will pay their debt to the Empire. Jettison the crew and commandeer the freighter, the navy is a hungry beast.
>>1918794

Three way tie, but there's enough support for killing the crew that I'm going to go with:

>These scum will pay their debt to the Empire. Jettison the crew and commandeer the freighter, the navy is a hungry beast.

Since keeping the freighter seems a good compromise.

>Writing

"Belay that, Ensign," you say, holding a finger to your lower lip in thought, "I think these scum will pay their debt to society. Jettison the crew, mark the freighter as salvage and have a crew brought up for it."

"Yes, ma'am. Right away." The Ensign's one makes it clear he finds your decision startling. Perhaps he found such a casual disregard for life chilling. No matter, he was new and he would learn.

What sanctity did a few criminal lives have in the face of the Empire?

"The Navy is a hungry beast," you say in way of explanation, the ghost of a smile gracing your features. "See to it.

"Yes, ma'am."

***

As you review a datapad rife with details about the handling of the bulk freighter's crew, you spot one of your sensor operators in the port-side crew pit raise her hand to signal a senior officer for assistance, in this case, Lieutenant Haffed, your tactical officer.

"Ensign. Report." Haffed's words are professional but his irritation was impossible to miss. This ensign, like many others on your ship and in the fleet, was a fresh recruit, pulled from one of the dozens of worlds in the Inner Rim newly reinducted to the Empire. On the job training was tiresome, but necessary.

You pretend to continue studying your report even as you listen in.

"Strange readings, Sir," the ensign replies, "I was tracking a trio of transport ships a few hundred klicks starboard and . . ."

"And?"

"And, they vanished off my scopes," she says, matter-of-factly. "Dropped off our sensors."

"What's your explanation?" Haffed asks.

"Well, it's possible that we're having some kind of sensor issue, sir, but the rest of the area reads clear. I think it's possible that something happened to those transports, or we're being jammed."

You were just considering involving yourself when your Executive Officer, a white-haired, no-nonsense Clone Wars veteran names Bastra seemed to spring from nowhere. "What's going on, Lieutenant?"

"Sir, it seems the ensign here is having difficulty resolving sensor targets," Haffed says, tone relaxed.

Bastra looks to the young woman at the console. "Do you think it's something to be concerned about?"

The ensign stammers a moment, "Well, I- I think that if they did vanish from our sensors, it's worth investigating."

"Retasking an entire Star Destroyer?" Bastra asks.

"That's not my place to say, sir," the ensign replies, "I just find it concerning."

You agreed with the ensign's assessment over the opinion of your Tactical Officer. It was concerning, especially since the Rebellion had a known interest in this sector. However, re-assigning the flagship of your division on the concerns of a fresh-faced ensign was a bit of a stretch.

(1/2)

You spot Lord Sallin approaching you from the corner of your eye, crew and officers giving him a wide berth. Sallin was the Dark Side Komissar assigned to your ship and you personally to ensure the loyalty of the crew to the Emperor above all. More interesting though, was why you had been assigned Sallin specifically. He was a favor from the current Kommirsari, Lord Brakiss, a one-time antagonist of yours who now felt he owed a small debt of gratitude for your testimony having secured his current position. Sallin was supposedly loyal to you.

He seemed to tower over those around him, his bright, cold eyes flicking side to side, always watching. The red plating of his lightsaber glints on his belt, flashing periodically from within the robes he wears. You suspected he would move silently were it not for the heavy gold necklaces he wore, draped around his neck, mysterious jeweled amulets thumping his chest as he walked.

You didn't look directly at him as he took position next to you. Since you were technically beholden to him, you felt obliged to explain the situation.

"Sensors have-" You begin.

"There's something there, Commander," Sallin says quietly, "I feel it."

You make eye contact with him, trying to hide your skepticism, "You feel something?"

He nods, "Fear, panic, aggression." He closes his eyes, "There is something out there."

"Lieutenant Bastra," you call, intruding in their conversation, "Are there any other ships that can investigate this sensor issue?"

Bastra looks to the ensign.

"No, ma'am, the next closest ship is Soultaker, and they won't be able to intercept last known coordinates for nearly an hour."

The downside to having the division spread out to cover this system was that they were also not all available to converge on an area at once.

"Can you give me any idea what's out there?" you ask.

Sallin shakes his head, "I can't tell you what, but I think I can tell you 'who' and I think it's the Rebels."


>We'll proceed at once
>We'll wait for backup
>Send a squadron of ties to scout first before we divert our ship
>Write in

(2/2)

>>1918961
>Send a squadron of ties to scout first before we divert our ship
Also, ask Sallin if he has any idea how many there are

>>1918961
So once we jettisoned the freigthers they got scared and jumped away. Most likely to a meeting point. The question is...is it a fleet and even more so how big are they...

>Send a squadron of ties to scout first before we divert our ship

We need to know how many and who if anything the freigthers might have jumped to three different points. Going after one might leave us open for a attack. So we will scout first and take it from there

>Send a squadron of ties to scout first before we divert our ship

>writing

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In the cockpit of one of the Empire's newest fighter designs, the Tie /Ad "Avenger" was Lieutenant Vells, fighter ace, and longtime compatriot of Commander Tyrna, arguably her best pilot and he was very uneasy.

"Sensors still show nothing, Lead."

Vells frowns at his own scopes, likewise blank. It didn't feel right. "Any jump signatures?" he asks.

"Negative. Sensors are totally clear."

Anotehr pilot chimed in, "It's possible our sensor equipment is getting planetside interference that-"

"There!" the first pilot exclaimed.

Vells saw it, a trio of red flashes far ahead. Blaster fire. A quick glance down at his sensor scope confirms he was still getting nothing on comscan.

"Kriff." Vells punches in the command channel for Retribution "Command, this is RF-21-1, I'm reading nothing on sensors, but I'm seeing what looks like signs of a battle. I suspect we're being jammed."

"Confirmed RF-21-1, close to visual contact and report."

Vells closes the channel, silently swearing while his squadron screams closer.

It didn't take long for the situation to resolve to be more clear. A trio of BFF-1 Bulk Freighters marked with Imperial insignia were being pursued by a rebel Task force centered on an Assault frigate.

"Double kriff."

***

"Retribution, this is RF-21-1," Vells voices comes through on your bridge speakers, filtered by his helmet vocoder, but recognizable to you nonetheless. "We've got five Rebel warships and looks like half a dozen or so squadrons of fighters bearing down on them. Those freighters aren't going to stand a chance."

Beside you Bastra swore, quiet enough that no crew could hear him, but you still caught it.

"We've got a chance of holding off some of those fighters, but the odds look slim," Vells says.

"Even if we set off at top speed, that squadron is going to be alone for quite a bit," Bastra says, though you'd already run the numbers yourself.

>Vells, hold them off as best you can, we're coming
>Vells, do not engage, wait for backup
>Write in

>>1919134
>Vells, do not engage, wait for backup

>>1919134
>Writein: Vells, this is Tyrna what do you think of luring some rebels to a trap? Then tell Vells to engage as best as he can then pretend to retreat toward a jump point we will jump and coordinate the time so Vells can cause as much damage as he can to protect the freigthers then on the mark run away and try to split the rebels so once we arrive we give then a blaster fire greeting.

>>1919134
>Vells, do not engage, wait for backup

>Vells, do not engage, wait for backup

>writing

>>1919134
>Vells, do not engage, wait for backup
[i]Hell yes![/i]

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You depress the 'talk' button on the communication console.

"Lieutenant Vells, this is Commander Tyrna. Do not engage. Hold your position and wait for reinforcement." As you speak, through the viewport behind you, Retribution's fighter compliment streaks toward the distant battle.

"I copy, Commander. Vells out."

***

Vells holds his control yoke in a deathgrip, hands tightening rhythmically as he watches the Rebel fighters savaging the trailing freighter, tearing out her engines first in a flurry of concussion missiles and then proceeding to shred her hull. He was glad of the localized jamming so he didn't have to listen to the crew's pleas for help that they were surely putting out.

The frenzy of destruction was enough for the other two freighters to pull away, making their best speed for the apparent safety of the Tie squadron loitering just ahead.

"Lieutenant, looks like a squadron of X-wings is headed for those fleeing transports."

Vells chews his lip a moment before answer. "Kriff it." he toggles his com channel, "All fighters, accelerate to attack speed. We're not going to let the et those last two ships, not without a fight." Tyrna could chew him out later, he was damned if he'd watch the Rebels slaughter as they pleased.

"Yes, sir."

***

Roll 1D100.

Roll is best of three.

Rolled 51 (1d100)

>>1919244

Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>1919244

44, 51

>51

>Writing

Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>1919244
God dammit Vells.

Vells grit his teeth so hard his jaw hurt as he closed in on the lead freighter. Its trailing sister ship was still breaking apart for where she'd been torpedoed by the passing Rebel X-wings. They wouldn't find this last transport such easy prey.

Vells pulled up at the last possible moment, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision with the freighter, sailing along between its two cargo pods and dropping his crosshairs onto the head X-wing.

"You're mine." Vells presses the firing stud on his yoke and a pair of concussion missiles arcs forward, striking and detonating on either side of the X-wing's hull, shearing off its wings and obliterating it.

Suddenly the comm channel was alive with chatter as his squad mates broke off to engage the Rebels in a dogfight just aft of the fleeing transport.

Vells pulled in tight behind an X-wing, clearly hoping to get an easy shot at the freighter. Instead, it's straight and level course made it easy pickings for him.

"Two." Vells fires again, blaster cannons this time, quickly ripping through the X-wing's shields and punching a fatal hole through her hull just behind the astromech turning the fighter into a fireball.

"Scratch another Rebel!" one of his pilots shouted triumphantly.

Vells hauled back on his stick, the Avenger curling into a tight turn back onto the main battle in time to see a pair of Avengers struck from the sky by Rebel fighters. Behind the swirling engagement, he saw the sublight engine flares of an approaching fighter squadron, his tactical computer painted the familiar arrowhead silhouette of A-Wing interceptors closing fast, an additional squadron of X-wings behind them.

Still, help was almost here.

Vells rolls his fighter to avoid a quartet of shots by a passing X-wing and delivers a stinging strike on its shields as it passes. Within seconds, the A-wings were upon them.

***

Roll 1D100.

Roll is best of three.

***

Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>1919364

Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>1919364
You better not die Vells.

Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>1919364

42, 65, 8

>65

>Writing

The Tie Avenger that has been dutifully trailing behind Vells, his wingman, explodes without ceremony, an A-Wing zipping through the space it once occupied.

"They're too fast!" a panicked rookie shouts on the comm.

"Don't let them go after the freighter, keep them on us!" Vells snaps, he was damned if he was going to die for nothing.

Another A-wing passed close enough for Vells to take a few potshots at, but it peeled away before he had a chance to get an effective lock.

It was clear these enemy pilots had practice with this particular strategy, the A-Wings would hit and run, drawing pursuing Ties into the waiting jaws of the X-Wings. Clever bastards.

Jamming his foot down on the portside rudder pedal, Vells banked hard and managed to pull in behind a cruising A-wing, blind-firing a concussion missile after it. With no lock, the missile did not pursue but proximity detonated nearby, ripping a series of holes across the A-wings starboard rudder.

A short-lived victory. The X-Wing Vells didn't see put a pair of bolts through the upper panel of his starboard solar array, tearing through his shields like paper. The shots missed his cockpit, but set off a series of alarms and flashing symbols on his console, none of them good.

Vells shoved his throttle to full, praying for speed to carry him out of the Rebel's killing zone.

In a second, he was clear of the dogfight, scanning his sensor scopes, looking for his chance to dip back in. What he saw was his squadron torn to bits by the enemy outnumbered three-to-one.

He didn't have time to look at anything else, the control panel exploded in front of his face. Vells raised his hands out of reflex, trying to shield his face, and feeling white-hot pain pepper across his palms. It took a moment for his head to stop spinning and his vision to clear, the smoke that filled his cockpit was gone in a flash, sucked into the ravenous void through the smoldering hole in his cockpit, the entry point for the same stray blaster bolt that gored his control panel and had nearly gored him.

Even if the yoke hadn't been half shot away, it was obvious his fighter had no power, tumbling dead in space.

As it rotated lazily, end over end, he could see the two opposing forces, Retribution and her fighters closing at flank speed, and the rebel forces, turning tail at the sight of an Imperial Star Destroyer. That, or they had accomplished their goal, picking off two Imperial freighters.

He checked the seals of his flight suit out of reflex, feeling the rough, lumpy front of his faceplate that indicated it had been flash melted in that blast. He'd survived having another fighter shot out from under him it seemed. Now he had to survive the wrath of his commanding officer.

Faced with answering for what he'd done, part of him wished that blaster bolt had been a better shot.

(1/2)

From the bridge of Retribution you watched her guns come into play, picking off a few straggling Rebel fighters, drawn in by the allure of just one last kill. The rest of this makeshift raiding force was burning for safety of the hyper limit, while your fighters were chasing down the slower Rebel X-Wings, the core of that group had too much of a head start to catch.

Tactically, the battle was an Imperial victory, you'd chased off the Rebels at the cost of most of one Avenger squadron, but you'd also lost a pair of Bulk freighters, and nearly lost another.

"Ma'am, recovery teams report they've located Lieutenant Vells," Lieutenant Raffed says. "I have a detail standing by to brig him for disobeying direct orders."

>Very good, Lieutenant. Maybe cooling his heels for a few days will teach him something
>There's no need. Vells made a tactical decision in the heat of battle
>Have the detail meet me in the hangar bay, I'll speak with Vells myself

(2/2)

>>1919477
>Very good, Lieutenant. Maybe cooling his heels for a few days will teach him something

>>1919477
>Have the detail meet me in the hangar bay, I'll speak with Vells myself

>>1919477
>Very good, Lieutenant. Maybe cooling his heels for a few days will teach him something

>Very good, Lieutenant. Maybe cooling his heels for a few days will teach him something

>writing

"Very good, Lieutenant. Maybe cooling his heels for a few days will teach him something."

"Yes, ma'am. Our security teams have also finished searching freighter. It's manifest checks out, the crew is shaken, but intact. I've cleared them to proceed to Corellia."

"What were they carrying?" you ask.

"Construction supplies earmarked for rebuilding the orbital yards" Raffed says.

"Thank you, lieutenant."

The lieutenant nods, "Ma'am." and turns on his heel, marching off to execute your orders. Vells was a good pilot but a lousy officer. You were continually amazed he's made it this far in the Imperial Navy.

"Well done, Commander. Quick action seems to have prevented the Rebel ambush from savaging one of our convoys."

You nearly jump out of your skin at Sallin's voice in your ear. Outwardly, you hide it well, but you suspect there's no hiding you surprise from a Force user. "That's more thanks to the action of one reckless pilot," you say, "And of course, your own input, Lord Sallin."

The Dark Sider smiles, "You're too kind. I am a servant of the Emperor, the same as you." Sallin is quiet a moment, you see him staring at Raffed's back as the lieutenant works.

"Something the matter, my Lord?" you ask.

Sallin's lip curls in a sneer. "Raffed. He's a worm."

You blink, "A worm?"

"He thinks himself clever, perhaps he's better at concealing his identity from people like you, but nothing escapes the notice of a Komissar."

Your heart stops, your Tactical officer, a Rebel?

Sallin must sense your panic because he laughs, "No, not a Rebel. Maybe just a step above. Raffed is an Imperial Intelligence plant," he says casually. "One of Isard's puppets. I imagine he's here to watch the crew as I am." Sallin pauses again and gives you a veiled

>>1919603
Well, time to seduce him and steal his secrets.

Sallin, not Raffed.

look, "And to watch you as well."

It went a long way toward explaining your Tactical Officer's lackluster performance in that capacity, as well as the source of Isard's information on your personal habits. "He can be dealt with," Sallin whispers, "It can appear like an accident to everyone else. I can ensure it."

>Rid me of this troublesome spy
>Leave him be, let Isard play her games. It's no problem for me.
>Write in

FUCK got cut off. Didn't notice it

>>1919697
>Write in
Ruin his career but don't kill him, try not to maim him either.
If that's not possible then
>Rid me of this troublesome spy

>>1919697
>Rid me of this troublesome spy

Apply spy begone at once

>>1919697
Do this >>1919707

>>1919697
>Rid me of this troublesome spy

>>1919707
sure

>Write in

>writing

"I'd prefer if you avoided killing him," you say, "I'd rather he be discredited and disgraced."

Sallin considers it a moment, "I could make it happen. But the results . . . Might not be pretty," he says. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"What do you mean? It would be messy? How?"

Sallin speaks slowly, "As Komissar, I have a wide degree of authority to make accusations and carry out sentencing. However, I doubt that Imperial Intelligence would settle calmly for a Komissar openly disgracing one of their agents. They couldn't publicly acknowledge Raffed's duty, but privately . . . It might start a war."

>That's no concern of mine. Do it.
>Just kill him, no reason to make it complicated

>>1919822
>Just kill him, no reason to make it complicated

>>1919822
>Just kill him, no reason to make it complicated
I meant like, give him nightmares and make him super paranoid and turn to drink or something.

But having him fall into the engines is fine too.

>>1919822
>Other
I would rather not start a faction war inside of the empire when we need both groups to win. Keep an eye on him and I'll make sure I feed him only the bare minimum information

>>1919822
>Just kill him, no reason to make it complicated

>>1919822
I like this: >>1919841

>Just kill him, no reason to make it complicated

>Writing

You had hoped for something a bit more elegant. An officer discharged in disgrace was preferable to a dead one, but it seemed Sallin was a bit lacking in the imagination department.

"No reason to complicate things. "

"I understand. Give me time, but rest assured that Raffed won't be a problem much longer."

You nod and Sallin makes himself scarce, even as you see your XO approaching from the communications station.

"Ma'am, Admiral Lobkin is calling in for a status update," Bastra says.

You cast a glance at Lieutenant Raffed who you catch giving you a dirty look before returning to his duties.

"Very good," You gesture for Bastra to lead you back to the communications suite at the rear of the bridge. The comms operator calls up the Admiral who appears in holographic form in full size.

Silas Lobkin was a pariah in the Imperial Navy. Until before the Emperor's miraculous return, he had been a mere commander like yourself, artificially elevated in rank after turning in his former commanding officer, an independent Warlord, to Isard. Being promoted to Admiral and made a Baron for his loyalty, he's ever since sought to prove his worth as a flag officer. Only slightly older than you, he carries himself with great pomp and formality, among his favorite methods were a very-much non-standard cape affixed to his Admiral's uniform, and a penchant for smoking cigarras at all times.

He is clean shaven with dark hair styled back, a beakish nose and long, neatly-trimmed sideburns put you in mind of popular Imperial styles from nearly a decade ago.

(1/2)

As soon as the image clears up, you see his eyes light, just slightly. It wasn't surprising to you, Admiral Lobkin and you and a very . . . Non-traditional relationship when it came to an officer and his subordinate. He had made his feelings for you perfectly clear. It was a mutual feeling that the two of you had more to offer one another. You'd made a firm decision that despite your wishes, that relationship wouldn't be a physical one. Not yet anyway. No, if you moved forward, you would do so properly. Something which meant speaking with your father. Not a prospect you were looking forward to.

"Command Tyrna, I heard your flagship found itself face-to-face with an enemy force."

"Nothing significant, an Assault Frigate and escorts. If they'd stayed around long enough my guns would have made short work of them."

Lobkin narrows his eyes contentedly, "Of that I have no doubt, Commander. Well done."

"Thank you , sir."

Lobkin hesitates, as if he wants to say more, but his eyes flicker around you, taking in the very public communications suite. He frowns, just slightly, "Carry on, Commander. I trust you'll inform me of any new developments."

It's apparent to you he was hoping for a more private conversation with you, which was exactly why you didn’t grant him one. Lobkin had been . . . Indiscreet lately, you think, recalling his grab at your backside on Corellia. It was sloppy, and put both your careers at risk. You resolved to be more careful on both your behalves. Of course, maybe one private conversation wouldn't hurt . . .

>Yes sir
>Have the call transferred to my quarters
>Write in

>>1919975
>Yes sir

>>1919975
>>Yes sir

>>1919975
>Yes sir

>Yes sir

>Writing

Straight and narrow, huh?

>>1920035
hopefully not like Lobkin

>>1920035
Private convo is for the end of mission.

"Yes, sir."

Lobkin ends the transmission.

You exhale a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, giving yet another uncomfortable look at Raffed who, this time at least, didn't seem to be watching you. His outing to you as a spy did make you more aware of what other people may know about your personal affairs. It was something you'd have to be more aware of.

"Something else, ma'am," Communications says, "We've received a holonet message from the Ministry of Alien Labor. Minister Tyrna requests you contact him at your earliest convenience.

Your father. At best, you describe your relationship with your father as "cold". He didn't approve of your naval career, and didn't actually seem to approve of much of anything you did. This was a message you'd take privately.

"Thank you, Lieutenant." You turn to Bastra, "Lieutenant Bastra, you have the bridge."

"Yes, ma'am."

(1/2)

The hologram resolved the grim, thin-faced visage of your father, his expression severe, if unreadable. His suit was featureless and black, his hair slicked back.

"Father, you wanted to speak with me?" you ask.

"Yes, with bad news," he says, "We're having shortages of the new Tie series fighters and because of a diversion of ships intended for 5th Fleet, several assembly lines have been reassigned to supply them. Including the lines on Byss."

Your heart sinks, knowing what that means, "I see."

"This means you'll have to follow the normal requisition process to get more," your father says, his words pointed.

The subtext of course was that you would again have to deal with Bin Luar, a Kuati businessman and enemy of yours. After a deal with Luar went sour, he seems to have made it his personal mission to complicate your life by denying you access to the tools of war, including, and especially, the new Avenger fighters.

After initially turning down a marriage proposal from him, more akin to a business merger in Kuati society, you'd struck a secondary deal where he would provide you advanced fighters in exchange for your speaking with your father on his behalf. When he tried to call in this favor by requesting your father send Yevetha slave laborers to Kuat, your father had refused him. A refusal Luar took to be your fault specifically. Despite an offer from Lieutenant Vells to "deal with" Luar personally, you'd demurred, and ultimately circumvented Luar's embargo on you by getting fighters through your father's connections instead. It seemed that again you would have to deal with Luar's machinations.

"Thank you for letting me know, I'll make arrangements," you say.

Your father is silent for a moment before continuing, "Is there anything more?"

There was. There was much more. Your budding relationship with Admiral Lobkin immediately sprung to mind, a relationship which you'd delayed somewhat over concerns about what it would do to your career and what your family would think of it. You knew, to proceed with that relationship, either for personal or professional reasons, you would need to broach the topic with your father first.

There was also the matter of the Selonian you met at the Moff's party in Coronet City. She had petitioned for Selonians to be allowed to enter the Imperial military and serve without restriction. No small task given the Empire's decidedly anti-alien bias. Still, you had offered to serve as a liaison between her and your father, an unlikely ally given his role as head of the Ministry of Alien Labor, but a powerful man, and one who did see benefit of non-humans.

You'd promised to ask your father about bringing the matter to the attention of the Imperial Council.


>No father
>Talk with Father about a relationship with Admiral Lobkin
>Bring up the Selonian proposal
>write in

>>1920081
>No father
We can talk about the Xenos when we aren't in the middle of a war.

>>1920081
>Talk with Father about a relationship with Admiral Lobkin
But don't say we're in a relationship, instead probe him about what he thinks of him and the possibility of them meeting each other.

>>1920081
>Bring up the Selonian proposal

hey, sounds like he needs manpower

>>1920081
>>No father

>No father

>writing

"No, father."

Your father studies you for a long moment, as if considering to challenge that assertion, before ever so slightly shrugging his shoulders.

"Very well. I had heard you were unavailable earlier because you were in combat. I take it you were victorious?"

"Yes, father," you say, "We drove off a Rebel raiding force.

"Well done. Corellia needs to see the Empire is capable of defending it. Now, I've got a Council meeting I must attend. Goodbye, Alana."

"G-goodbye, father."

As the holopad turns off, bathing you in darkness, you replay your father's words in your head. Praise from him, certainly over military matters was rare indeed. Especially coming on the heels of your last conversation where he'd reminded you that your career was an embarrassment to your family.

It felt good. You smile to yourself. It felt very good.

***

And that's all the time I've got tonight! Next session will be Tuesday 7 EST (11 UTC) and it's going to be . . . A little . . . Different.

It feels good being back, my apologies about the break, but I feel reinvigorated! As I said earlier, the game schedule will be changing slightly.

Tues/Thurs/Sat
then
Tues/Thus/Sun

Alternating. I will also run three weeks and take one week off. More frequent shorter breaks should keep me from burning out AND give me more time to plan big plot points and things.

Be sure to follow the games Twitter
https://twitter.com/DarkEmpireQuest

And if you might be interested in other games I could run in the future, my new QM Twitter
https://twitter.com/TimeKillerQM


On that note:

War of the Roses: 1932 is very nearly ready for its debut. I'm expecting it to launch in a week or so. IF you like the "nation management" and strategy aspects of Dark Empire, you'll probably enjoy War of the Roses. Less lightsabers and more tanks though, as well as dynastic family politics.

If anyone wants to ready my tentative combat rules and tell me what's wrong with them, the link follows
https://drive.google.com/open?id=1f9F1Dy0Tkc75u9GJJOByozC7yoAEQ0PhLCltqdnqMQo


I'm open for any questions as always.

>>1920199
I prefer the old schedule t b h

>>1920199
>https://drive.google.com/open?id=1f9F1Dy0Tkc75u9GJJOByozC7yoAEQ0PhLCltqdnqMQo
Thanks for running TK, can't wait to see more. In War of the Roses 1932, is the UK united? If it is, can we conspire for Scottish freedom?

>>1920213
Mind if I ask why or what you prefer? I might be able to make some adjustments maybe

>>1920218
>https://drive.google.com/open?id=1f9F1Dy0Tkc75u9GJJOByozC7yoAEQ0PhLCltqdnqMQo
>UK
Certainly not! The idea that England and Scotland should be united as preposterous. The dastardly Scots are in league with the French. It'll never happen.

https://imgur.com/9dMjlJa

>>1920219
It's just that I go to church every Sunday and I'll miss most of the session.

>>1920239
I know something that'll make everyone flip their shit.

Let's put a Hannoverian on the throne.

>>1920241
Will you be there at 7EST 11 UTC?

If so, I'll see what I can do about making adjustments.Can't promise anything, but I can promise to try.

>>1920239
>Scotland
As long we can starve the Irish, slaughter the Scot and burn the Welsh I'm game.

>>1920245
Only for an hour or two

>>1920251
>Irish, Scots, Welsh
>Death

These elements will all be present, but for this particular game it'll mostly be the English killing each other.

I might be able to interested do:

Tues/Thurs/Sat
then
Tues/Thus/Fri

Assuming that works better for you/everyone?

>>1920284
>Tues/Thurs/Sat
>then
>Tues/Thus/Fri
Whatever's best for you.

>>1920294
Either is the same for me. I'd prefer to run EVERY Saturday, buy I just can't do it. I think Friday will work better than Sunday

>>1920284
Sure can. That'll be better for me.
Anyways, after reading the rules I feel that it favours bringing large forces over a small well trained one because they all hit at the same damage and only once each phase. There's also no "morale" equivalent so a big force can keep sending its forces to the grinder regardless of casualties which probably isn't realistic.

>>1920315
Ah good! Feedback!

So I failed to mention it, but when I did test rolling, the defender can roll once against each attacking unit, so you can't just mob them endlessly. I might limit that to firing on up to three attacking regiments.

There also IS a morale stat but right now it serves as just another factor in combat bonus.

It's kind of nebulous at the moment (but morale is nebulous).

I'm also considering imposing supply limits so a regiment can only be in sustained combat for so long before it's combat ineffective. Representing low ammo, fuel, morale etc.

Just means more book keeping for me. I'm tryng to hit a sweet spot between detailed and easy.

>>1920343
I guess I'll add. I can set it so negative morale values can theoretically pull a combat bonus so low that hitting DC becomes nearly impossible.

Rolling D20 -6 with a DC of 14 for example means it's basically impossible.

>>1920343
Maybe do add a command structure of sorts? (Army - Corps - Division - Regiment) since good commanders are limited, it will naturally reduce the amount of effective units we can take to battle, favoring an efficient well commanded force.

>>1920382
Not a bad idea. I'll play with some numbers and things.

meant to add that there are other limiting factors to just bringing a mob of terrible infantry, like physical limits on the number of regiments you can raise in a county. You can't just endlessly train soldiers.

>>1920199
Good run TK

I'm digging this Lord Sallin the more I see of him. Makes me wonder how our business with Brakiss will go later on

>>1920239
Burgundy is a thing.
Sweet baby jesus, I'm ready to buckle in and shed blue blood.

>>1921333
>Good run TK
Thanks! Always a pleasure.

>>1922321
>I'm ready to buckle in and shed blue blood.
That's the spirit, lad!

I'm still trying to make certain I can run this and Dark Empire without hurting either, it's hard to know for certain without doing it.

You are Madame Director Ysanne Isard and you are at home in the shadows. It's just as well, since in the Imperial Ruling Council Chambers on Coruscant, virtually everything is shadow, interspaced with harsh light. A vivid reminder to you of the starkness of the Empire. The difference between success and failure, life and death.

You were seated at what could arguably be called the "head" of the circular table that made up the center of the conference room. The surface of the table was inlaid with glowpanels that were primarily responsible for the strange shadows in the room, and gave the faces of those present an almost skeletal appearance. Several of the members were present only in the form of life-size holograms, the whole council numbering just over thirty members all told between various high-ranking Moffs, ministers and the other members of the council. You spare a look to Lord Brakiss, a rising star among Palpatine's Dark Siders, and one you very much had your eyes on.

Outside of the council ring, you could only barely make out the thin, dark columns that encircled the central table, and just beyond them, marked by a dull shine were the Storm Trooper guards for the council.

You dispense with any of the formality and flair that you were certain Mas Amedda would partake in were he running the meeting. "Gentlemen," you begin with a slight pause, debating internally if you should include Moff Tavira in your address, "And ladies, we have a lot of business to discuss and I am sure there are many pressing questions you have so if we could-"

"I have one question, director," an irritable voice cut in. Grand Moff Dureya, floundering buffon he was, was probably one of only a few people in the Empire comfortable interrupting you. Unfortunately, most of the rest of those people were likewise concentrated in this room.

You narrow your gaze at him, "And that would be?"

"Where is the Emperor?" Dureya thundered, "And when will he return? With no disrespect to your governing abilities, we all saw exactly what you accomplished the last time you were left in charge of the Empire."

"The Emperor is still out of communication with his, Governor. I have my best operatives headed to his last reported position in order to reestablish contact."

"Your best agents, Director? You'll forgive me if I don't hold my breath," Dureya says.

"I will forgive you," you say, "Provided to hold your tongue instead as we proceed." Mentally, you work over who you would have to talk to in order to have Dureya dealt with.

The Grand Moff snorts and crosses his arms, but says nothing further.

(1/2)

"Yes," you say, "the Emperor is out of contact with us, however, I have spoken with the Archmage who assures me she has contact with him through the force. The answer to the question none of you have asked is 'yes'. The Emperor is very much alive. Can I assume we can consider this matter closed?"

No one argues.

"Then let's talk about external matters." You turn slightly to the uniformed figure of Grand Admiral Zahn, "Admiral? Your report?"

Zahn clears his throat, his voice shaking slightly as he speaks up, "In coordination with Imperial Intelligence, we've been made aware of some activity on the part of Thrawn's forces." He depresses a key hidden on the edge of the conference table, bringing up a flattened map of the galaxy. "It seems he's been busy, we're reported nearly a dozen Star Destroyers crossing down the Randon Run and taking the Rebel world of Kashyyk."

This revelation, along with the alarming nature of the map, brought about a round of distressed murmurs from the other councilors.

"What would Thrawn want with a bunch of Wookiees?" Dureya chimes in.

"It's not the Wookiees he's after, Governor," Zahn corrects, "It's strategic position. He's driven a wedge between us and the northern stretches of the galaxy."

"Your proposal, Admiral?" You already knew what 'spineless Zahn' would say.

"I think we are in poor shape for direct military confrontation, especially with so many resources tied up on the southern reaches of the galaxy," Zahn doesn't name Tavira, but you can see her expression sour.

"Beside which, the Emperor gave me specific instructions to undertake no military action without his authority," you say.


>I'll contact Thrawn and make our concern clear
>I'll have my agents make his occupation of that area more painful
>We will wait for the Emperor

Isard is your regent, write-ins will be very constrained. You have been forewarned, you are simply selecting among options Isard herself can or will do. Additionally, Isard commands limited loyalty from other branches like the navy and your Dark Siders, so is generally unable to leverage them.

(2/2)

>>1929182
>I'll contact Thrawn and make our concern clear

>>1929182
>>I'll contact Thrawn and make our concern clear

>>1929182
>I'll contact Thrawn and make our concern clear

>I'll contact Thrawn and make our concern clear


>writing

File: GalacticMap3.png (1.71 MB, 2568x3016)

1.71 MB PNG

"I'll talk this situation over with the Grand Admiral," you say, taking no small amount of enjoyment watching Zahn squirm with discomfort as you address the other Grand Admiral, the one he would rather pretend didn't exist. "He still claims some loyalty to this Empire, perhaps we can leverage that against him. Once our business is complete here, I'll make our concerns clear."

Your words seem to assuage the fears of the council.

Zahn clears his throat, a bit more authoritatively. "There is more."

As Intelligence director, you had the privilege of foreknowledge of many of these problems, you merely allowed the hapless Zahn to be the one to deliver bad news.

"Please elaborate if you will, Admiral," Grand Moff Gann prods.

"Our remote probes have now confirmed rumors of a Rebel attack on Fondor. A successful Rebel attack on Fondor."

If the council was disturbed before, they were practically revolting now.

"An attack on Fondor?" Moff Tavira asks, finally speaking up.

Zhan, reluctantly, rewards her with his attention, "Yes. Governor. They apparently took advantage of the chaos left behind in the wake of Delvardus's death to seize some of his former territory."

"Frankly, it's unacceptable," Minister Tyrna says. "By last estimation, that same stretch of territory included both the Fondor and Bestine shipyards, not to mention Thyferra. To allow such important worlds to fall into Rebel hands is not permissible."

"I agree," you say. A decisive counter attack against the Rebels was likely the best option, but also impossible. Not only for political concerns, but your military's rough state following its rapid expansion. "What's the state of 5th Fleet's assembling?"

"75% combat effective," Zahn reports, "They are behind on their fighter compliment and a number of escort ships. Not to mention a division was peeled off and dispatched to the south and is currently at Governor Tavira's disposal."

"And being put to good use!" Tavira says, "Unlike everyone else, I've got good news."

"The capture of Naboo and Enac, while good news, hardly makes up for the loss of a shipyard as vital as Fondor," Tyrna explains like Tavira were a child.

His tone isn't lost on Tavira who throws him a veiled look.

So 5th Fleet is in no condition to spearhead a counter attack then. You would have to wait even longer go see the vaunted Admiral Trier in action. Even so, you were still forbidden from launching any major operations without the Emperor's orders.


>Execute Intelligence plans to cripple Fondor's orbital facilities
>Have operatives on Fondor kill high-ranking collaborators to strike fear into them
>Wait for the Emperor

>>1929286
>>Have operatives on Fondor kill high-ranking collaborators to strike fear into them
The Emperor said we can't do any major military planning, but fooling around with our spies are different

>>1929286
>>Have operatives on Fondor kill high-ranking collaborators to strike fear into them

>>1929286
>Have operatives on Fondor kill high-ranking collaborators to strike fear into them

>>1929286
>Have operatives on Fondor kill high-ranking collaborators to strike fear into them

>Have operatives on Fondor kill high-ranking collaborators to strike fear into them

>writing

"The Emperor said we can't execute any military operations, but that doesn't mean we don't have alternatives." you purse your lips in thought. "I'll have some of my operatives make cooperating with the Rebels . . . Unpleasant."

The council members seem to accept this plan again, with no argument. You proceed to the topic of warships.

"When will the new command ships under construction be finished?" You ask.

The Naval Production Minister, a Kuati named Gallovan, tabs through pages of notes on his datapad before answering. "Production is on schedule for most sites," he hesitates, a frown briefly crossing his face, "We have appropriated four shipyards for the construction, Kuat, Byss, Foerost, and Rendilli. We have also outsourced work on their escorts to Nubia and Duro, though the production there is behind schedule."

"And what do you attribute as the cause of these delays?" you ask, tone frosty.

The minister meets your gaze, "Rebel activity? Reluctance to perform given they primarily work civilian contracts. These are no Imperialized yards, they are privately owned and are working under contract, frankly a subpar contract."

You knew of the Emperor's dealing with the Shipwrights of those two worlds, the pressure that had been put on them and the reluctance they no-doubt felt to meet the quotas imposed on them.

"I will add, that it's interesting to note that the Byss shipyards are not only on schedule with production, but are slightly ahead of schedule," the production minister says, his voice guarded. "Production there, however, is under the direct supervision of Minister Tyrna."

(1/2)

Tyrna leans back in his seat, "This is correct, and as Minister Gallovan is doubtlessly aware, I've made it no secret the reason for my success here."

"The Yevetha," Gallovan says, frowning.

"Quite. Their technical aptitude surpasses anything else among our base-level construction personnel. However, I have also repeatedly turned down any requests to have the Yevetha transferred to other yards. I received very specific instructions from the Emperor, and I will not violate those without direct orders to do so."

"A few teams of Yevetha at each site could help ease the production burden immeasurably," Gallovan says.

"Before anything else, I am a servant to the Emperor," Tyrna replies. "I will not move unless he tells me to."

"And we all commend you for your loyalty," you say, cutting down the argument before it can begin, "But surely there is something your ministry can do to accelerate production, at least at Nubia and Duro."

Tyrna spread his hands, "My resources are already taxed to the maximum. Our intake rate is at an all-time low, criminal sources are infrequent, our work schedules are draining my supply pool faster than I'd prefer. Just maintaining the fleet takes all I have. I might be able to spare some workers, but it would be a token force."

"There may be another option," Lord Brakiss says, his voice low enough that you had to strain a bit to hear him. "Minister Gallovan made it sound as though this is a problem of motivation. I can think of no better way to motivate them than a few Komissars."


>Increase dissident sweeps among non-human populations to be used as manual laborers
>Allow Brakiss's Dark Siders to motivate the employees of Nubia and Duro
>I will speak with their leaders directly and instill in them the gravity of the situation
>We will not adjust our arrangements with them without the Emperor's consent

>>1929367
>>Increase dissident sweeps among non-human populations to be used as manual laborers
Xeno scum can't hate us any more than they do now, right?

>>1929367
>Allow Brakiss's Dark Siders to motivate the employees of Nubia and Duro

>>1929376
We can't affoard to create rebel sympathisers. Let's show some understanding for now.

>>1929367
Fuck it
>Allow Brakiss's Dark Siders to motivate the employees of Nubia and Duro

>Allow Brakiss's Dark Siders to motivate the employees of Nubia and Duro

>Write in

"I concur, Lord Brakiss. Why not use your Komissars to motivate the workers and supervisors there? Remind them who it is that rules."

"On that point," A fresh voice intercedes. "I would like to bring up the matter of structure."

Vende Amenge, Grand Inquisitor, head of the revived Inquisition, and by all accounts, a prodigy. A young man, not unattractive, brimming with ambition and promise. Despite that, he represented a threat to your hold over the internal order of the Empire as much as Brakiss did. An intentional check to your power on the Emperor's part you supposed.

"Structure?" you ask, noting Brakiss's obvious distaste.

Amenge stood, his cape thrown over one shoulder to reveal the ornate silver handle clipped to his belt. You hoped he didn't intend, as Brakiss and that fool Ap-Llewff had, to disrupt the council meeting with an archaic duel.

"Yes. Structure, Madame Director. You see, Lord Brakiss volunteered his Komissars. If I recall, Lord Brakiss is no longer the Komissari, he now serves our Master as Blackguard."

You frown, "Yes."

"And to that end, it seems to me Lord Brakiss should not be leading a full half of our Dark Side apparatus. I find that it goes against the Emperor's wishes."

"And what is it you propose, Lord Amenge?"

"I propose that the Komissari should cease to exist as a separate branch. I find that their purpose would be best served-" Amenge gives a devilish grin, "Under the Inquisition."

"Upstart fool," Brakiss says.

"Better an upstart than an ambition-less relic!" Amenge snarls.

"Gentlemen!" you hold up a hand. "I won't ask you again to contain yourself and act with a measure of dignity." For a moment you had a terrible recollection of the chaos sewn in the wake of the Emperor's death, your futile attempts to command the loyalty and respect of the Warlords.

Both Darksiders relaxed slightly, Amenge even sat back down. Still, it was clear there was a power struggle hear. Either you left Brakiss in control of both the Komissari and the Blackguard, or you folded to Amenge's demand to absorb the Komissari. Of course any decisions you made would be non-permanent once the Emperor returns, but in a case like this, even trying to keep status quo would be an obvious affront to Amenge, and a way of shoring up Brakiss's power. The longer he held onto both organizations, the better his claim would become.

Ideally you would prefer to see a weak newcomer in the role of Komissari, however you knew full well you lacked the political capital to force such a change through, neither Brakiss nor Amenge would go for such a decision.


>Brakiss will control both
>The Komissars will serve under Amenge

>>1929485

>Brakiss will control both

>If the emperor made it seperate, its that way for a reason.

>>1929485
>>Brakiss will control both

>>1929485
>>Brakiss will control both

Goddamn, I want to be the Emperor again.

It's easier to maintain the current command structure than to introduce such changes. And if Palpatine truly wants Amenge to take control later then the Inquisitor can exert more influence over the Komissari with the Emperor's approval.

>>1929485
>Separate the Komissari from the Blackguard for now with a temporary leader, the Emperor will rule on this when he returns.

>>1929496
>Goddamn, I want to be the Emperor again.

Can't be everywhere at once/When the cat is away, the mice will play.

>Brakiss will control both

>writing

>>1929541
>Can't be everywhere at once
Couldn't he be though? He has tons of clones. Not that he would, splitting up your power like that is retarded, see Vitiate.

You find yourself wishing the Emperor were back, if only to strike these bickering fools into line with fear. "If the emperor made those branches separate, it's that way for a reason," you say, "I won't orchestrate such a major change in power while the Emperor is away. If the Emperor wants to follow your suggestion, Lord Amenge, you can broach it with him on his return."

Brakiss smiles contentedly and you think you catch a nod of approval. The fool probably takes your support for him in this issue as approval. It's clear Amenge takes the rebuke personally.

His eyes suddenly harden, shooting blaster bolts at you. "If you insist on stacking the deck such a way," He says, "What choice do I have than to wait for the Emperor's return?"

"None." you reply coldly.

Amenge leans back in his seat, but says nothing further.

Are there any other topics to be brought to the council's attention?

>Yes (Write in)
>No

>>1929554
>Amenge leans back in his seat, but says nothing further.
Good, I didn't like Isard anyway.

>No

>>1929554
>No

Fuck Amenge, the cunt.

File: 1499316716402.jpg (134 KB, 486x1677)

134 KB JPG

>>1929561
>Good, I didn't like Isard anyway.
delet this

>No

>Writing

Even as the council adjourned, the small sense of relief you feel after it was over pales in comparison to your unease surrounding the Emperor's excursion to Dac. Since Thrawn's attack on Kashyyk cut the hyperlanes, no word had gotten out about the Emperor or his fleet's condition. You were certain there was nothing on Dac that could pose any real risk, however, you were a woman who lived in a world of worst case scenarios. You just hoped you didn't have to deploy any of them . . .

Not to dwell on you insecurities, you had to face one of your bigger threats. Thrawn.

As regent, you forsook the offer of Royal Guards, instead opting for your own Death Troopers, a small slice of the assets the Intelligence community could supply, and your own people, people who could be trusted.

You opted to use one of your own isolated communication rooms for this errand, not trusting the Emperor hadn't had his own bugged to monitor your activities. They said the innocent had nothing to hide. That was the wishful thinking of the weak.

Then, the usual ballet of diplomacy began, your people contacting Thrawn's people, the façade of all being part of the same family of Imperials continuing on and on. Before long, you were face to face with the Grand Admiral himself.

"Madame Director, what a surprise." Thrawn's face betrayed no surprise, or any hint of his true emotions, just that eternally self-amused half-smile.

>It's come to my attention that you launched an attack of Kashyyk without consulting us. Your reason?
>You're playing a dangerous game, Grand Admiral. Your little maneuver is an obvious attempt to cut us off
>Giving up the last pretense that we're allies, Thrawn?
>Write in

>>1929625
>You're playing a dangerous game, Grand Admiral. Your little maneuver is an obvious attempt to cut us off
Fondor is to the North too, isn't it? It's certainly not in the South. Unless I'm mixing it and Eriadu up.

>>1929636
Fondor is South, Eriadu is FARTHER south

Map
>>1929286

>>1929625
>It's come to my attention that you launched an attack of Kashyyk without consulting us. Your reason?

>>1929625

>It's come to my attention that you launched an attack of Kashyyk without consulting us. Your reason?

>>1929625
>>You're playing a dangerous game, Grand Admiral. Your little maneuver is an obvious attempt to cut us off
Consider this your final warning Grand Admiral

>>1929625
>>It's come to my attention that you launched an attack of Kashyyk without consulting us. Your reason?

>>1929639
I don't know what industrial world I was thinking of. Mygeeto or Ord Mantell maybe.

>It's come to my attention that you launched an attack of Kashyyk without consulting us. Your reason?

>Writing

You dispense with any formalities, with Thrawn, you saw no point.

"It's come to my attention," you say "that you launched an attack of Kashyyk without consulting us. Your reason?"

Thrawn is quiet a moment, "My reason?" his smile broadens, "I wasn't aware I had to clear any of my plans with you, Madame Director. I'm sure you execute your own plans without including me in the planning stage."

You harden your own gaze, "For someone who is supposed to be our ally, you're acting in a rather evasive manner."

"On the contrary," Thrawn replies, "I've been straight forward and forthcoming. Kashyyk represented too good of a target to simply let the opportunity pass. Now, I must say I'd prefer to discuss such matters with the Emperor than his subordinate. It feels more proper, don't you think?"


>I speak for the Emperor
>The Emperor isn't available to speak with you
>The Emperor is leading a force on deployment. I'm ruling in his stead.
>Write in

>>1929703
>>I speak for the Emperor

>>1929703
>The Emperor isn't available to speak with you

>>1929703
>>I speak for the Emperor

No reason to tell him that the Emperor isn't available. Last thing we need is to give him a weakness to exploit.

>I speak for the Emperor

>Writing

>>1929703
>Write in: Fine when the emperor is avaible i will ask him to talk to you.


Don't give him anything anons. Let him be in the dark.

You straighten up, "I speak for the Emperor."

"Indeed?" Thrawn asks. "Does the Emperor no longer speak directly with his Grand Admirals?"

"You should know that we are all his servants," you reply, "Grand Admirals are no exception."

"In that case, Director Isard, what is it the Emperor wants of me? I can't very well undo my attack on Kashyyk."


>Clear these with us in the future
>You can't undo the attack, but you can be sure the Empire profits from it. Turn those planets over to us
>Just watch yourself Thrawn.
>Write in

>>1929741
>Inform us of such things in the future when possible, directly anyway. I'm sure your aware how this attack seems to us.

>>1929753
This

>>1929741
>Inform us of such things in the future when possible, directly anyway. I'm sure your aware how this attack seems to us.

>Inform us of such things in the future when possible, directly anyway. I'm sure your aware how this attack seems to us.

>Writing

"Inform us of such things in the future when possible, directly anyway," you say. "I'm sure your aware how this attack seems to us."

"I can imagine, Madame Director. Will there be anything else?""No."

Thrawn smiles, "Give my regards to the Emperor."

The transmission ends.

(1/3)

Minntooine, an oceanic orb in the vacuous desert of space, now surrounded in an orbital debris field, the deadly results of a clash between forces high above the world. At the heart of this devastation was the matte black giant, the Super Star Destroyer Tarkin, the flagship of the task force deployed here, as the ruler of the Galactic Empire, it was also your personal flagship.

Tarkin's throne room also served as a near duplicate of the ships bridge, though with empty and unmanned stations where normally crew members would be diligently servicing them. All visible surfaces were finely polished, creating a room covered in obsidian mirrors and winking status lights. Beside you and your two Imperial Guards, only two others were present:

Tarkin's captain, a quiet, obedient man named Friss, and your apprentice, a young woman who had once been called Mara Jade but now answered to a different name.

"Darth Cythera," You say, "You agree with Commander Friss's assessment of the battle?" You knew it was correct, but also knew showing some favor to Cythera would further cement her loyalty to you.

"I do, Master." She stood, arms crossed, beside the commander. "It's obvious the Rebels had no idea we were so close. I suspect Skywalker and his Jedi knew we were coming."

"It appears as much," you agree, thinking back on the prophetic words your Archmage had relayed to you, words from the mouth of a mad Dark Side monk, now expired.

A vast host of starships locked in battle above a watery world. A fleet in flames, and the Jedi victorious. A Force-wielder of great power who will rise to betray you when their power is sufficient. This betrayal will bring great pain to many. A stone palace on a world choked with monsters and a great power hidden within a corpse's clutches in a tomb beneath the stone palace.

You'd been prepared to discount them. Intense study of the dark side led to many broad vistas of knowledge, some less hospitable to the human mind than others. Although . . . You recalled Cythera's execution of one of your other most powerful adepts, your former Executor Sedriss, a man who aspired to be at your side but was misled by a Dark Side spirit he had picked up on Rhen Var, like a parasite in the force.

Sedriss may had intended to betray you, just as Minntooine may have been the water world that insane monk spoke of. Still . . . You turned your eyes to Darth Cythera again, her own gaze was cool and level, the hint of a smirk on her face. She held herself with grace and coiled power, like a snake ready to strike. She was the most collected you'd seen her since her failed duel on Rhen Var against Skywalker, the one that had cost her arms. If the prophecy referred to Cythera . . .

(2/3)

"Commander, since most of the Rebel force escaped, have we been able to track their vectors?"

"They have returned to Dac, your Highness. Likely to regroup with the planetary defenses there."

The Rebels had escaped with what remained of their ambush force here, four Mon Calamari cruisers, two of the old MC80 design, and two of the new MC90 design, a pair of Assault Frigates, a single Dreadnaught, and a handful of medium and light cruisers not to mention several dozen smaller escort ships.

At your disposal, you still have Tarkin of course, as well as three Imperial-Class Star Destroyers, although one of them, Cythera's own flagship Blood Oath took substantial damage and may not be very effective in a fight. You also wield a single Victory-Class, two Korriban-Class, and a few dozen picket ships.

Provided the Rebels didn't have significant reinforcement waiting in the Dac system, what you have with you should be enough to deal with the shipyards as planned. However, you didn't put it past Skywalker to lay a second trap for your forces if he could. You had dwelled on this issue and found yourself unable to see the future effectively, your vision was clouded, uncertain. A troubling development, especially since you were unsure of the source of this block. Skywalker was an obvious candidate, but was such action within his power? He might be stronger than you supposed, certainly he was stronger than the last time you met him.

In either case, the decision was yours. Proceed with the mission, or be satisfied with the defeat of a Rebel fleet and return home.


>Continue to Dac
>Return to the Empire

>>1929857
>>Continue to Dac
Finish what we started

>>1929857

>Continue to Dac

>>1929857
>Continue to Dac
We still have force storm and the superlaser up our sleeve

>>1929876
And the rebels still have a fleet you really expect to not be cutted once we try to fall back?

>>1929857
>Return to the empire

>>1929887
The prophecy is false. No one can stand against the Emperor's might.

>>1929857
>Continue to Dac

It'll be easy enough to scout first. Send a recon force, depending on what they find will determine if we break off.

>Continue to Dac

>writing

>>1929958
Trips

"Commander, detach a scout force to advance on Dac and determine what sort of opposition we face. If it's within our ability to defeat them, we will."

"Yes, your Highness."

At minimum, the Dac shipyards would suffer, perhaps even the whole planet. Perhaps the planet would join Camaas and Alderan on the list of worlds you sought to punish for their disobedience. In the meantime, your forces would collect themselves, and prepare for battle . . .

***

I'm gonna stop here instead of starting a battle without time to finish it. Next stop: Dac.

We'll continue the game Thursday at 7 EST and then will follow up immediately on Friday at 7 EST (11UTC). There will be no sat/sun game.

We'll be covering topics such as

>Wipe them out
And
>All of them

As well as Alana's next career steps in the navy.

WILL ALANA TELL HER FATHER ABOUT HER Love? Lust? Political ambitions? FOR LOBKIN!?

CAN PALPATINE DEFEAT THE SQUIDDIES?!

FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON DARK EMPIRE!!!

Thanks for playing guys! You make it a blast.

>>1930019
>Wipe them out
And
>All of them

Not just the men, but the women and children too. I killed them all

>>1930019
Haha time to kill squids

>>1930026
Listen, I don't like sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere.

Where am I going with this? Rebels are like sand, so we should instead use turbolasers to glass them.

File: Dac1.png (76 KB, 2332x2480)

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With the hyperspace data relayed to your force by your recon detachment, your small fleet jumps to Hyperspace, closing the gap between Minntooine and Dac faster than light. After exiting the azure wormhole of hyperspace, even you were momentarily stunned by the scope of the operation before you. It was as bad or worse than Cythera's initial report. The Mon Calamari had indeed been busy. They turned their infernal hands to the construction of a fleet of purpose-build warships, the MC90 Class cruisers you saw nestled in the massive docking cradles before you. Over a dozen in all, and countless more escort ships. It was the foundation of a new Rebel navy. A seed that could not be allowed to be sown.

The glittering blue ocean-world of Dac was ringed with orbital gantries, dockyards, and habitation facilities, but it was also surrounded with glimmering lights, drive signatures. It took you only a few moments to recognize what you were seeing. It was an evacuation fleet, the makeshift Rebel armada that faced you at Minntooine had repurposed many of their more questionable warships to serve as transports, a frantic, and futile, attempt to evacuate the planet. It seemed Skywalker had an inkling of your intentions toward the Mon Calamari and their home world.

"Your Highness," Commander Friss's voice comes through the intercom in your throne room. "All ships report they have successfully jumped, comscan is detecting a Rebel forced massed between us and the planet Dac."

"A pathetic attempt to force us to spare their world," You say with a sneer, surveying the results of the scan. It seems like the fleet you bloodied at Minntooine plus a few additions, likely a planetary guard. More interesting than the ships "Defense platforms," You say.

"Yes, Highness. Golan IIs. Equivalent in firepower to a Star Destroyer roughly. It certainly evened the odds more for the Rebels.

Reaching out with the force, you could feel trepidation, determination, fear, and the Jedi. You hadn't quite managed to wipe them out at Minntooine, but you knew you had reduced their paltry numbers even further. Still, their combine power made the prospect of utilizing one of your Force Storms to ravage the enemy fleet uncertain. Their fleet was weakened, battered, their will tested, but so was yours. You knew that perhaps, with enough of a shock to their morale, enough of a show of power, you might create enough fear to drive them away. Of course, you may also only reveal your hand and embolden their defense.


>Have the fleet advance and engage. Imperial arms will win this day
>Fire the superlaser, let's show them the meaning of fear
>I can overcome a few pitiful Jedi. They will know the power of the Dark Side (Force Storm)
>write in

>>1933999
>Fire the superlaser, let's show them the meaning of fear
Obliterate a defense platform. It'll destroy the greatest part of their firepower at little to no cost to us.

>>1933999
>Fire the superlaser, let's show them the meaning of fear

>>1933999
>>Fire the superlaser, let's show them the meaning of fear

>>1933999
Wait, can't we just make a wide arc around the defense platforms? Why do we have to attack them?

>>1933999
Send 3/4 of your fighters ahead and around the enemy armada bypassing them completely and have them start attacking the unarmed transports. all while sending your capital ships against the armada they will have no choice but to let their fighters pursue ours leaving making the battle something we excell In.

>>1934028
I support this instead, but I also add on that we just try to avoid the Defensive platforms and pull the fleet away or just start attacking the shipyards

>>1934019
>Go around

No lol. Assume there is a ring of these stations, and no matter where you go, you will face two in range.

Apologies for my bad/misleading map.

Sending fighters through a different gap IS possible though

>>1934044
Ah so it's a ring of them then, well alright.

It should have been pretty obvious to me though.

I have to ask, how come starwars has never shown fights that have ships very far above and below? It seems like you could just move ships hundreds of thousands of miles below a defensive structure and come up behind it

>>1934044
+building on the plan i previously suggested use the super laser to blow up one of the golans and thus giving our tie's an opening in the defensive ring to attack the transports.

>>1934053
>how come starwars has never shown fights that have ships very far above and below?
Because Star Wars is wildly unrealistic and pretty inconsistent with a lot of its space battles in the movies.

Space is HUGE but fleets always seem to come out of hyperspace right next to one another and fight from just a few hundred meters.

>Fire the superlaser
>>1934007
>>1934014

>Write in
>>1934035
>>1934028

Another minute or two for any tie breakers

>>1933999
>Fire the superlaser, let's show them the meaning of fear

NOW IT'S TIME!

>Fire the superlaser, let's show them the meaning of fear

>writing

File: death-star-8.jpg (26 KB, 400x270)

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They will most likely focus on Tarkir after we fire the laser so it would be best to keep defensive position. Let fear take then.

>>1934081
And then we'll curve the laser with the force to hit the other platform.

File: Dac2.png (90 KB, 2332x2480)

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The external changes in the Imperial fleet were subtle, subtle enough that the Rebels had no warning. The scout group far to the front of the fleet scattered in all directions and Tarkin shifted its tremendous bulk to angle its bow directly at one left-most Golan Station.

The firing sequenced executed in the bowels of your Super Star Destroyer with machine-like precision. There is a sudden flicker of light at Tarkin's bow as the subsidiary lasers on the miniaturized reflector dish each added their energy in sequence before the main beam erupted in an emerald lance, lashing out in a millisecond across the vast gulf that separated your ship from its target before it lanced through the Golan's Hull like it were nothing.

The gigantic battle station exploded into a brilliant shower of debris and fire, expanding in all directions for a few moments before the flames were snuffed by the deadness of the space around them.

In an instant, you had robbed the Rebels of a significant portion of their fleet.

More than the shock wave of debris cast out by the dying Golan, you fixated on the shock wave of fear and panic that rippled through the Rebel fleet.

Yes, you think with a coy smile, This thing is operational.

"Firing sequenced complete, Highness. Main gun charging, capacitors cooling," Friss says, his voice neutral.

You know it would be close to an hour before your gun could fire again, a very long time to be stuck waiting in combat.


>Advance on the Rebel fleet
>Dispatch a large portion of our Ties through the gap left by the Golan to attack the evacuation transports
>Hold position, let the Rebels come to us
>Write in

>>1934094
That's an amateur move. Make the beam figure 8 and just move it around through the rebel fleet.

>>1934098
>>Dispatch a large portion of our Ties through the gap left by the Golan to attack the evacuation transports

>>1934098
>Dispatch a large portion of our Ties through the gap left by the Golan to attack the evacuation transports

>>1934098
>>Dispatch a large portion of our Ties through the gap left by the Golan to attack the evacuation transports

>>1934098
>Write in: Close formation and prepare for their attack have Tarkir advance sligthly having the start destroyers as suppor for it while advancing launch our TIE's and strike the port hopefully since the rebels like to play the hero roll so much they will split their figthers forces.

>>1934098
>Dispatch a large portion of our Ties through the gap left by the Golan to attack the evacuation transports
Hold in a defensive position here.

>Dispatch a large portion of our Ties through the gap left by the Golan to attack the evacuation transports

Roll 1d100. Best of 3.

Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>1934153
oh no

Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>1934153

Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>1934153

Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>1934153
Time for my bad roll!

>>1934174
Oh thank the dark side you rolled faster.

6, lol 61, 86

>86

>Writing

File: Dac3.png (77 KB, 2332x2480)

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The Rebels' compassion was their weakness.

A full three quarters of your fleet's fighter compliment are dispatched at top speed for the expanding cloud of debris of the Golan, their ultimate goal to attack the vulnerable Rebel transports.

As your ties screamed toward their targets, the Rebels, predictably, launched their own fighters to intercept as well as an Assault Frigate and a pair of gunships. Both fighter wings met a short distance from the Rebel fleet, red and green laser fire criss-crossing between them as neatly arrayed squadrons were disrupted and broke up into spiraling dogfights.

Although the gunships are slow to arrive, they manage to pick off a few straggling and stray Ties, keeping the fight from edging too close to the Rebel fleet.

Losses on both sides mount alarmingly as entire squadrons are wiped out in the fray, before long though, the numbers become clear, the Rebels are holding their own, and only a scant few of your fighters will break through to harass the transports beyond. The small numbers of enterprising Tie pilots who do break through are too few in number to coordinate their attacks well, and will serve only as a small distraction for the Rebels defense, your fighter wings suffer nearly 30% losses, though the numbers are similar in the Rebels.

Regardless, the rest of your fleet has closed to firing range and exchanged shots with the Rebels while the fighters are otherwise occupied.

With luck, your capital ships, the pride of the Imperial Navy, will fare better than their fighter compliments have.

***

Roll 1d100. Best of 3.

Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>1934242

>>1934242
We should have sent a couple of picket ships to help

Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>1934242

Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>1934242
Hmm kinda being wastefull with our ties if our are this bad...ih well

Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>1934242

>>1934259
Not the jedi's day uh.

File: MoG.gif (5.2 MB, 560x303)

5.2 MB GIF

19, 91, 33

>91


>Writing

>>1934259
The Emperor's dice is blessed by the Dark Side

>>1934267
>>1934273
You know i wasn't even sure I should roll kinda glad i did.

File: Dac4.png (81 KB, 2332x2480)

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Closing your eyes, you could feel the death and despair that surrounded you, feeding you, giving power to the Dark Side.

Ahead of Tarkin, another Mon Cal Cruiser explodes under the furious bombardment dealt by your flagship. Nearly 50% of the Rebel fleet lost in minutes, your own forces paving through the Rebels with impunity. In a toe-to-toe fight, a Mon Cal warship simply has more stamina than A Star Destroyer, though in this case, your subpar shielding was compensated for with intense firepower. With the Rebels fighters drawn off, they had no chance to sting your massive warships.

They were recalling their fighters in a hurry though, allowing a few of your squadrons to slip past them, toward Dac, further compromising their defenses.

All around the world, you could see the flicker of transports leaping into Hyperspace. Rats fleeing a sinking ship.

"Highness, our main gun will be charged in moments," Friss reports, his voice as tired and placid as it was when discussing the best hyper routes to take on the way here.

>Turn the main gun on the Rebel fleet
>Fire the weapon at the shipyards
>Fire it at Dac
>Hold Fire, Commander

>>1934305
>Turn the main gun on the Rebel fleet

>>1934305
>Fire the weapon at the shipyards

>>1934305
>>Fire the weapon at the shipyards
Remember our goal here

>>1934305
>Turn the main gun on the Rebel fleet
Even if the ships escape, we'll have destroyed equal to their number in this fleet, and we re purpose or strip the shipyards for our own manufacturing.

>>1934305
>>Turn the main gun on the Rebel fleet
The shipyards aren't going anywhere

>>1934305
>>Turn the main gun on the Rebel fleet
we can boil the worlds ocean and destroy the shipyard after we kill as many enemy ships as possible

>>1934305
>Turn the main gun on the Rebel fleet
What would firing on the planet do?

>>1934340
>What would firing on the planet do?
Annihilate a city, boil the ocean around it, make a statement.

>Turn the main gun on the Rebel fleet

Roll 1d100. Best of three.

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>1934354

>>1934305
>Turn the main gun on the Rebel fleet

Let's kill as many rebels and sink as many ships as we can.

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>1934354

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>1934354

53, 87, 95(!)

>95

>Annihilating

File: king like kong.jpg (38 KB, 270x467)

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>>1934362
>>1934361

>>1934324
To far away from our currebt goal. Better kill the rebel ships then destroy the shipyard. Thraw or the other can go and take the rest and fight between each other while we build our forces.

>>1934361
The Emperor is here.

I wonder how much the forces here are creammying themselfs watching all of this. Cynthera must be enjoying, specialy since her flagship wasn't sunk yet.

File: Dac5.png (105 KB, 2332x2480)

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"Make your target that Rebel cruiser," you say, "dead ahead."

"Yes, Highness."

Again, your internal crew works like clockwork and the deadly green superlaser shoots forward, punching clean through the Rebel MC90 from bow to stern as well as two of the nearly complete MC90 hulks beyond it, ultimately dissipating in a brilliant light show in Dac's upper atmosphere.

The shot serves as a signal to the end of the Rebel force gathered here. The retreat signal was no doubt given, the few remaining ships turning to flee with their civilian counter parts. Unfortunately for them, they had to escape the range of your single Interdictor cruiser, nestled safely in Tarkin's shadow.

A small gaggle of Rebel ships does manage to get free of the gravity well and flee with the remainder of the Civilian transports, those not destroyed by your Ties all told, perhaps a fraction of a percent of Dac's population.

Now, the deadly shadow of Tarkin falls over Dac's pristine blue surface as it settles into orbit, the Rebel shipyards an easy target while the remaining work crew struggle to flee.


>Destroy the shipyards and leave, no sense risking Rebel reinforcements arriving
>After destroying the shipyards, finish what we started. Boil Dac.
>Why stop there? Begin landing troops and prepare boarding parties. This world belongs to the Empire.
>Write in

>>1934386
>After destroying the shipyards, finish what we started. Boil Dac.
SQUID GENOCIDE

>>1934386
Where's Dac on the map? Can we extract anything portable and then destroy the shipyards?

>>1934386
>>Destroy the shipyards and leave, no sense risking Rebel reinforcements arriving
The prophecy can still come true. Let's complete our mission

>>1934386
>Launch boarders to capture any New Republic vessles that we can bring with us, while we boil Dac.

I'm sure imperial Intelligence and the military would love access to all the information we can get on these new warships and any other advances.

>After destroying the shipyards, finish what we started. Boil Dac.

>>1934386
>Destroy the shipyards and leave, no sense risking Rebel reinforcements arriving

Our territory is already to big to be defended let just cripple the shipyards and go.

>>1934386
>After destroying the shipyards, finish what we started. Boil Dac.
Too far out to capture, and not worth it anyway.

File: mapdistance.png (1.71 MB, 2568x3016)

1.71 MB PNG

>>1934394
Depends on what you want to extract

>>1934390
>>1934397
Guys genocide is fun and all but let's just cripple our enemies. Let's not get carried away in bloodlust.

>>1934400
Not that anon, but I think I know what he wants squid pussy.

>>1934400
The escorts and any information about the rebel fleet status.

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>>1934403

>>1934405
The escorts need to be boarded and crewed, information might be retrievable from the databanks of the stations here. They would also have to be boarded and downloaded and decrypted.

File: 1486954740381.png (60 KB, 204x190)

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>>1934407
I did

>>1934396
Can I add this to my option, the boarding ships we can take with us

>>1934386
>After destroying the shipyards, finish what we started. Boil Dac.

>After destroying the shipyards, finish what we started. Boil Dac.
>>1934390
>>1934397
>>1934399
>>1934418

>Destroy the shipyards and leave
>>1934395
>>1934398

>Launch boarders to capture any New Republic vessels that we can bring with us, while we boil Dac.
>>1934396
>>1934416

Please howl if I missed something

Otherwise

>Boil Dac

>writing

>>1934434
>>Launch boarders to capture any New Republic vessels that we can bring with us, while we boil Dac.
I change my vote, extra ships could be helpful

>>1934434
I had changed my vote to get more ships.

>Launch boarders to capture any New Republic vessels that we can bring with us, while we boil Dac.

You type in a short command on your armrest opening a com channel.

"Lord Cythera."

"Yes, Master?"

"Take control of the fleet. I want you to sterilize this world."

There is a short silence.

"Yes, Master."

***

Cythera stares blankly at the Com station on the bridge of Blood Oath for a reflective moment before turning on her heel and marching toward the forward view port, past the ships nominal captain. She jabbed a finger at the tactical officer. "Have our gunners target the cities on the surface of Dac. Maximum firepower."

"Yes, my Lord!" he stammers.

Cythera stops at the front of the bridge and turns about again, facing everyone, Dac framed behind her. "Forward to all commands: Base Delta Zero. Boil the planet."

"My Lord," the captain replies with a nod, turning to execute her orders.

***

It takes minutes for the Imperial vessels to turn their guns on Dac, pumping thousands of turbolaser shots down through the atmosphere to obliterate their cities and generate billowing clouds of steam.

Within half an hour, the entire daylight side of Dac is obscured in thick steam. A scalding hot shroud, deadly to any air breathing life, and deadly to any water breathing life close beneath the surface.

While this bombardment was occurring, Tarkin directed its own fire into each orbital shipyard as it passed, blowing apart the unfinished hulks and then, using tractor beams, slowing their orbit so they were set on a collision course with the watery surface below.

A handful of nearly completed frigates and corvettes are seized by boarding parties, and a few data raids yield useful intel.

All the while, Cythera watches the world die, her face a mask.

***

When the orgy of destruction is over, it's possible that something yet lives on the world below. Possible, but unlikely. The Rebel fleet is destroyed, the Jedi defeated, Dac sterilized, a major center for the Rebellion is no more.

With nothing remaining to destroy or steal, your force turn, setting a course for Dellalt intending to return to your Empire.

(Cont.)

File: Routes.png (600 KB, 1866x895)

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The Imperial Intelligence freighter your forces encountered at Dellalt was lucky not to be burned out of the sky. Their mission completed, your soldiers and crew were nervous, eager to return home and fearful of any Jedi tricks that may cost them everything.

Instead, the freighter presented the correct ID codes, enabling it to approach and to beam its crucial data to you.

You reviewed it in your Throne room with Friss and Cythera present. It was a simple message from Isard, explaining the tense situation on Coruscant in your absence, the Rebel attack on Fondor, and most crucially, Thrawn's seizing of the junction at Kashyyk.

With that hyperlane in his hands, a return along your previous course would force you to pass directly through his territory. Of course, on the surface, Thrawn was an ally of the Empire, though you knew that beneath his collected exterior was a man full of ambition. What he may do if he discovered the Emperor at the helm of a weakened fleet passing through his territory was uncertain.

On your request, Cythera and Friss looked into alternative routes back to the Empire. The two proposed are wildly divergent. The first is a withdrawal south, to neutral space along the Outer Rim before cutting through Huttspace, back through the territory of an Imperial Warlord or the Rebels, and to safety.

The other is much less conventional and supposes that the formerly Imperial Tion Cluster may be pressure to assisting you in your return if your fleet were to first make a stop there.

The fastest direct route is to travel through Thrawn's territory, the Hutt Space voyage will take considerably longer.


>Return the way we came. Pass through Thrawn's territory
>Seek allies in the Tion Cluster
>Go south through Hutt Space
>Write in

>Questions

>>1934527
>Seek allies in the Tion Cluster

>>1934527
>Return the way we came. Pass through Thrawn's territory

Just tell Thrawn we have info and tell him about our destruction of Dac.
Let's go see the admiral.

>>1934527
>Seek allies in the Tion Cluster
Thrawn is not to be trusted

>>1934527
>>Seek allies in the Tion Cluster

>>1934527
>>Return the way we came. Pass through Thrawn's territory

>>1934527
>Return the way we came. Pass through Thrawn's territory

>Seek allies in the Tion Cluster
>>1934544
>>1934564
>>1934567

>Return the way we came. Pass through Thrawn's territory
>>1934556
>>1934571
>>1934576

Sudden death

>>1934635
If we can revote sure?

>Seek allies in the Tion Cluster

If not, already counted me.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>1934652
Yeah, not a revote, just waiting for tie breakers. But I'm done waiting.

>1 Thrawn
>2 Tion

>Seek allies in the Tion Cluster

>Writing

The prospect of coming to Thrawn from a position of vulnerability made you uneasy. The Tion Cluster then would be your best bet you decided.

Tion, like so much of the galaxy it seemed, was ostensibly Imperial-aligned, though it remained semi-independent, even during your first reign. No matter, the Tionese, like all the others, would soon be returned to the Imperial fold.

The roiling, dead waters of Dac far behind them, your fleet sets course for Lianna.

***

Sorry for the early end, but I'm out of time for the night. Remember, no quest this weekend. Instead we have a quest TOMORROW! (GASP!)

So hopefully my brain doesn't implode.

I hope to see you guys tomorrow at 7EST (11 UTC) where we can continue this saga.

As always, you guys were fantastic, some really awesome write ins. I'll be lurking for questions or banter.

Thanks!

>>1934718
Spoilers for tomorrow? Will we continue Palpatine's rebel stomping or something else?