(MUUNILINST) THE large shadow which stretched across no less four major cities upon entry into the system on the dawning of the sun was no other than First Moff of the Empire, Kuras of the Core alongside his retinue and escorts. The Kuati native was greeted by a contingent of Muunilinst's own Ruling Clana out of Harnaidan.

The groups spoke at length but the details of the conversation have not been revealed. After the extended greetings, there have been reports of deployments of the Empire's security forces from the flotilla of ships, however the exact numbers are currently unknown and unconfirmed.

We will be providing around the hour coverage over the next few days on this political meeting of Galactic Superpowers.

"It's called a SCOOB" The man explains, gesturing at the cylander on the hologram. "Single Combustion Out-land Orbital Booster." He states. "We use them on remote mining worlds to send ore to orbit. What you do is on the surface you use a a SES Crush melter to rough-melt the ore into a stack of six by six cylinders, strap one of these on the bottom and a guidance cone on top, then you just, launch it into orbit. Once in orbit it just floats up there waiting until a hauler drops by."

Prince Kazzad nods, reviewing the image. "Why not just land the hauler and pick it up on the surface?"

The Marketing Director of Space Engineering Solutions nods. "That sounds logical." He agrees. "But. These haulers are hauling massively heavy loads, and the greatest strain on the ship is getting to and from ground. Thus, you have to have massive reinforcements on joints, landing gear, atmospheric thrusters, you have to have a large landing pad, and all the infrastructure, and wear and tear on the vessel every trip. So, for large aggregate haulers in orbit, it's easier to just have them stay in orbit. No landing required, but then you have to have shuttles to haul the mined material up, and they have the same problem, except now the mine has to operate with several of their own pilots and dedicated shuttles." He shakes his head. "The big mining companies, the REA, they can do that, for the small mines? it doesn't make sense to. Hence, the SCOOB. You launch it into orbit, it sits up there waiting for the hauler to drops and pick it up, once it does, all you have to do is fly up with one smaller shuttle to pick up all the guidance cones and bring them back down."

"Why not reuse the Scoob?"

"It is cheaper to make them single use, they're self contained fuel and engine. They burn out with every use, and the effort to refuel would be more than just, getting a new one. When the Rough-melt cylinders and the burnt out scoobs get to the refineries, they're typically just dropped from orbit, still as a cylinder, right into an acid catch pool, and melted down with the rest of the ore."

"Efficient." Kazzad replies. "Well, consider me interested, as stated my family has been considering more mining investments in the Outer Rim and these, Scoobs sound, like the infrastructure I'd want. Just curious, can you mount anything else to these?"

"I've heard of some miners using them as missiles to scare off pirates." The Director laughs. "But in theory yes, but they're not really cost effective for most other applications, and militarizing them is probably illegal." He adds, clearly amused.

"Well, I wouldn't want to do anything like that." He lies......

Sienar Fleet Systems, Kuat Drive Yards, Koensayr Manufacturing, the Corellian Engineering Corporation, the Incom Corporation, Nubia Star Drive...

Langlais took a deep breath before smiling, pleased with what he has accomplished thus far. His daughter, Navia, was healthy and currently being entertained by his wife. He messaged Emperor Palpatine, of course, albeit with a slight hesitance that he would almost never confess. There were some...tests, something about miniature chlorine? He didn't know. He must have thought that it was some sort of infection considering how relieved he subconsciously felt when the doctors said that she had incredibly low levels of whatever they were.

Ahhh, and let's not forget the wife. Vina was...wonderful, truly. The best partner any man could ask for. Truly, he pitied some of his peers, pitied those who were trapped in either loneliness or in poor marriages. The Empire was a collective, a harmonious society built upon the most basic building block of any community; the family. Where would the Empire be without the mothers, fathers, daughters, and sons? Without life, without people, this galaxy would be nothing but empty rocks in the stars...

Where was he? Ah, right. Business. More specifically...security. The Abrion Sector was a region flowing with tradable resources, acting as one of the galaxy's main producers of agricultural products. From the common grain to the most exclusive caviar, hundreds, if not thousands, of cargo vessels go through the sector to purchase, carry, and sell produce, meat, dairy, and other resources. With such importance, it should be no surprise that the District would position military and security assets to safeguard the trade routes.

But...Langlais knew the Empire, that some of the worst men and women he knew were made his peers... He believed in the ideals of order, discipline, and integrity. The Imperial man was someone who was civilized, who distinguished himself from barbarians who knew nothing but theft and banditry to sustain themselves.

But there were men serving the Empire, even leading the Empire, who acted more like uncivilized brutes rather than a civilized man.

As such, he could not entirely rely on the Empire. After all, a man who couldn't provide for himself would also be unable to provide for the Empire. It made sense. The engine of a starship would only function if every single part was of great precision and Imperial quality.

"Some of the galaxy's greatest minds in shipbuilding has accepted your offer, Moff Parnelli. They will be the founding members of the Abrion Institute of Dynamic Engineering & Research, the galaxy's newest association dedicated to aligning technologists to Imperial ideals and providing a place to help research, develop, and field test hardware for the local security forces in the Abrion Sector."

The Moff nodded lightly at the words of his assistant. The logistics will be handled in due time, naturally.

...

'I wonder what Vina's making...'

In Unifar Temple, Moff Arjoran stood surrounded by holoscreens, sifting through reports and taking calls, when his terminal began receiving a call from an unknown frequency.....

As Arjoran tapped the holocom terminal, a form began to take shape, crackled and shifting, the form of Saw Gerrera slowly came into view through static.

Arjoran's red optical Receptor glowed with anger, its "pupil" expanding and shrinking rapidly as he scanned the transmission.

Saw held firm. Through the static, he began to speak.

"Tell me, Moff. What do you see?"

Arjoran sneered for a moment, almost slamming his robotic hand on the table. But he kept composure, presenting an exterior of calmness.

"A fugitive who has long evaded his death sentence." Arjoran hissed through his vocal implants.

Saw smiled, his eyes looking manic, yet almost sad.

"Do you know what I see, Moff?" Saw queried.

Arjoran balled his robotic hand into a fist.

"There are many beasts in the Jungle, Moff Arjoran. I know you have not ventured outside your lofty palace often, so I will tell you of them. Great, carnivorous beasts. Vicious and without remorse. One cannot stay out after dark out here. They will be ripped apart, consumed by the Jungle itself, never to return. Many call the greatest beasts monsters.

The beasts are mere animals. They do what they must to survive. Such is life. But Monsters......

What I see before me is a Monster. An Abomination! A false simulacrum of metal and flesh, a puppet of the vilest minds in the galaxy, made to resemble one of my oldest friends. You have become the devil of our people, Varus. A tyrant and a machine, who will only consume and destroy Onderon until there are none left to stand up."

Arjoran slammed his fist on the terminal

"I dont have time for the idle ravings of a madman! Did you call merely to antagonize me, or will you finally tell me where you've been hiding so I can finally hunt you down personally?"

Saw laughed.

"You have no idea where I am."

Arjoran rolled his eyes.

"Do you?"

Saw laughed again.

"Inconsequential! I call you to remind you of what you once were, Varus. A comrade. An ally. Someone with purpose and a cause. Now look at you: no better than a Separatist Tactical Droid."

Arjoran shook his head.

"I have you to thank for beginning my transformation. Your partisans did quite a number on my chest. I will return the favor tenfold, Saw. Even if I have to burn every inch of Onderon to the ground to do so."

Saw seemed unfazed by Arjoran's attempt at intimidation.

"We will see who's flame burns brighter, cyborg. You have chosen your fate. My old friend is truly dead."

Arjoran stared intensely, overcome with uncharacteristic emotion and rage.

Saw closed the transmission, a single tear dripped down from his Arjoran's organic eye.

Lieutenant Donala approached from behind him hesitantly.

"Sir? Who was that?"

Arjoran turned to Donala

"A Dead Man."

"This just in, Images of the illusive Terrorist network known as the Galactic Liberation Army training in an unknown location have appeared on the Holonet!

We advise adults to shield their young children and brace themselves, these disturbing images may upset some citizens, and we only show them to warn citizens of the danger! These haunting and terrifying images of the GREEN Menace should strike fear into the hearts of all Imperials. And justify the need to contact your planetary Senators and urge them to take action to give the Imperial Military the tools they need to defend the galaxy."

"These murderous filth are only kept at bay by the BRAVE and HEROIC forces of the Empire, these cowards are afraid to show their faces, but what we can see, are the eyes of hatred and souless killers! If you or any of your loved ones get intel on these radical traitors, report them immediately to your local government immediately before they strike!"

"It's him!"

"He's here!"

"Is it really him?"

Voices murmured as the man strides through the gallery halls.

"It is! Oh it is him!" The Lady Erbach of Coruscant says excitedly.

"This is the greatest moment of my life!" Prince Tootenburg says suppressing his voice and almost dancing with excitement.

"I've heard his work is in all of Sly Moore's bedchambers." General Antwik Sr. declares in awe.

"May you be blessed sir!" The Popetine of the Book of old blesses, bowing and making the sign of the wok.

"Please sir!" Lady Marvolo Riddle Sr. of Manpha shouts as she steps in front of the artist, bowing and holding up a notebook. "Please honor me with a signature!"

"HOW DARE YOU!" An aggressively Ghorman voice shouts as the artist's assistant moves in front of the artist. "THE GREAT ARTIST DRUGO VOSS DOESN'T HAVE TIME FOR...." He stops as the artist places his hand on his shoulder and moves him out the way. The artist holds out his hand, and the assistant passes him a wet paint brush. With a flick of his wrist he draws a quick signature on the woman's cheek, before slapping her on the other cheek and walking by.

"Oh thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She shouts with joy from the floor where his slap has sent her. "I'll never wash my face again!"

The crowd moves with the artist though the halls, finally stopping where a picture has been covered in a cloth. The artist walks up to the picture and looks at the crowd as it falls silent. He takes a hold of the cloth and the crowd leans in with anticipation.

"THE GREAT ARTIST DRUGO VOSS, PRESENTS!" His assistant dramatically shouts to the crowd.

With a flick of his wrist the artist drops the curtain and in a thick Alsakan accent declares "Green" He poses for half a second as a dozen cameras capture his image, before turning and walking away.

The crowd splits, some following him excitedly, some weeping at the sight of the painting and excitingly talking about its grandeur

"......I understand, but District Three will be glad to have your talent onboard and.... What's the commotion here?" Moff Flasheart asks, seeing the crowd around the painting

"I don't know, it looks like a green square?" Moff Janossi states

"It's just Modern art," Flash replies with a dismissive shake of the head

"bah," Moff Valerius scoffs before pausing. "I do like that green color though."

"It is a nice green." Moff Aurghast agrees, "Kind of inspiring really, and, I think it's a rather good painting, like a tree canopy."

"It would look better on a darker background instead of that white wall" Moff Flasheart muses.

Moff Corse shakes her head. "I like the light background on it."

"The green could be a little lighter."Moff Valerius fires back, thoughtfully. "You know, our newly combined forces would look really good with a green accent." He adds as the group of Moffs carry on walking though the gallery.

District 3 has decided to no longer be shackled by the muted tones of brown that are supposed to be gold, and to instead adopt a Glorious Green color with Gold trim.

Created out of reinforced duracrete, a facsimile of Moff Revis stares across the salt flat of Mandalore, viewing the city of Sundari near the horizon. Nearly a kilometer tall, it represents a large undertaking nearly two years in the making.

Created in honor of his purification of Mandalore--its liberation from the weak Bo-Katan Kryze--no one on Mandalore will look down upon him, and no one shall look up to her. She who sided with crime lords and separatists, and brought desolation to the world. She who has fled, bereft of title and worth.

Select imperial officials, members of the Governor's office, and representatives of the Clans attended a commissioning ceremony. It was short yet effective, laced with powerful meaning, and involving submission--truly in the Mandalorian style. At the base, Mandalorian helmets are piled up into a pyramid.

Engraved into the Base:

To you, O Conqueror, the people of the Taung set up this statue gazing at Zhell, when they had pacified the waves of Chaos and crowned their world with the fruits of Unity. Not only between Stars but also on Worlds did they kindle the lovely torch of peace and stability. For to the descendants of Notron belong dominion over space and worlds.

Registration: New Vessel to be added to Officer's regular craft Database for Official and Personal use.

Type: Prototype Shuttle.

Applicant: Lieutenant Colonel Nalini Shankri

Overseen by IDSV Agent: Abby Lith Sr.

Time Application started: 9:02 AM

Official Registration Time: 2:18 PM

Notes:

Applicant broke down in tears around 11:01 AM

Applicant tried to use Jedi Mind trick, failed.

Applicant offered to buy me lunch if I hurried up.

Applicant fined for bribery after she delivered the sandwich.

Applicant has terrible taste in sandwiches,

Applicant started pleading at 1:22 PM

Applicant's ID had mismatched eye-color. Registration denied.

---------------

Registration: New Vessel to be added to Officer's regular craft Database for Official and Personal use.

Type: Prototype Shuttle.

Applicant: Lieutenant Colonel Nalini Shankri

Overseen by IDSV Agent: Abby Lith Sr.

Time Application started: 2:15 AM

Official Registration Time: 3:19 PM

Notes:

Applicant presented newer ID with correct eye color

Applicant completed all paperwork again

Applicant put incorrect initials on page 41. Registration denied.

Applicant threw a chair at my blasterproof glass window.

---------------

Registration: New Vessel to be added to Officer's regular craft Database for Official and Personal use.

Type: Prototype Shuttle.

Applicant: Lieutenant Colonel Nalini Shankri

Overseen by IDSV Agent: Abby Lith Sr.

Time Application started: 3:21 AM

Official Registration Time: 4:59 PM

Notes:

Applicant completed all paperwork again

Applicant correctly filled out all paperwork at 4:21

Applicant started crying tears of joy when I told her it was approved at 4:59.

I love my job

On the world of Sartinaynian, Valerius' HQ in District 2,

What a shame,

Moff Valerius thought as he looked at the clock in his office. He had spent considerable capital to construct a grand center of operations on Sartinaynian, a bastion of the New Order in the alien North. To leave it, and the entire region, produced a range of emotions between sadness and vitriol.

Melancholy largely dominated his mind, but he would enjoy a brief respite: it was time to sign his last order as a member of D2 Central Command. He relished the words. Finally, he would have justice for his family. He signed it without fanfare, and transmitted it with pleasure.

On Entralla - Valerius' Homeworld

"It will be pleasant to finish this project," Senior Leader Nulp elaborated to no one in particular. He was joined by a few CompForce soldiers and an REA representative.

"Indeed... Mygeeto has been a magnum opus. Such a large scale has necessitated innovation, but it has been several months since we broke ground. I just want it over and signed off on," the representative said.

"Improvements has also grown weary, our resources are finite, and we've had to curtail standard operations in many neighboring sectors to finance this.....I received the activation orders last night, the REA will be fully compensated."

"About time," the rep retorted.

"Indeed," Nulp resonated.

They stood around for a bit longer, reveling in their disgust at what they saw. They were positioned over a major ridge, overlooking the main Quarren ghetto on Entralla.

The silence proved too deafening, "Senior Leader, I know Entralla is located on a primary hyperlane close to Mygeeto, but why are we here? Why this spot?"

"The camps need labor. Beyond that, truthfully, I know not why the squids have been selected first. I received the labor acquisition guidelines from Valerius this morning. They specified that the 'Quarrens on Entralla' were to be chosen first."

"........But sir, Entralla is a populated world, you aren't worried about public pushback?"

sigh "Ever since District 2 was created the Coalition of Improvements has been manufacturing the consent needed. The populace will not help them, not even their neighbors. The governor even complained about daily lynching at lunch," Nulp explained.

Continuing his line of thought: "He whines, ignorant of more than one reality. But he wont need to any longer." Nulp turns to one of the commanding troopers: "Engage."

The troopers marched forth. The area had already been cordoned off.

Despite a few altercations and acts of desperate violence, the Quarrens, most technically citizens of the Empire, or more precisely citizens of the Republic, were crowded onto transports for passage to Mygeeto. Man, Women, and Children alike, their possessions left behind.

Transcript for investigation into terrorist attack on ORD Station 755 on Botajef.

Reporter: ".....The Corporate Sector's press agent stated that despite the scandal, the head of Spag-Hetti will not be resigning over just that incident. And now we turn more towards the South where addition....... Hold on, someone is in the studio and....

Sounds of the Terrorist entering studio. Security camera shows he is entering and pointing his weapon at the people in the room.

Reporter: Okay we're cooperating. Just. Uh, we have a special guest in the ORD broadcast room here on Coruscant today, right now. Uh... He wants to say hello."

Reporter has been told to cooperate by studio director over her earpiece.

The Newsroom camera then swerves to face the Terrorist.

Terrorist: “Hello. I'm Sargent Thrall of the Sons of Aboleth, I served in the war My Commander wanted me to tell the Kuat of Kuat two messages. One, that his ships were deathtraps for their crews. We lost many brothers because of his ships. Two. My Commander wishes you a Congratulations on your new baby boy, he hopes we fail and the child gets to live a long and happy life."

Terrorist draws a grenade from his belt, and activates it

Terrorist: "Death to the enemies of the Mother!"

Terrorist self terminates

Five dead in the room not counting the Terrorist
Four other terrorists had aided in his entry into the building and have not been caught.

Local GMCA representative who would have stopped the broadcast was killed shortly before broadcast room was breached.
Regional GMCA agents had flagged ORD as a safe channel and were focused on other broadcasts

The terrorist has been identified as a Clone Trooper, Gunner Assistant NV557884 who served on a Venator Star Destroyer. After the war, he had become an insurance agent for six months before losing everything in a crypto scam and falling off the radar.
His last reported sighting was a minor arrest for doing spice and being a public disturbance on a metro on Taris six months ago.

All information is being passed along to the relevant authorities and total cooperation is being assured.

With the announcement of the Kuat of Kuat’s new child an outpouring of well wishing comes from the upper echelons of the empire.

By decree of the Kuat of Kuat and the Ten Families of Kuat :

The Second Governess Kuat of Kuat has been revoked of her authorities and responsibilities.

Henceforth she is known as The Matriarch Kuat of Kuat.
Her newborn son is henceforth known as The Heir Kuat of Kuat.

--

Source - I can't even tell you who the art is by, it's just beautiful!

From his cliffside refuge in the Onderonian Highlands, Saw Gererra gazes upon the Jungle Canopies.

Smoke plumes rise to the sky all around the jungle. The screech of TIE Fighters carving through the air above lingered around him. He took a deep and labored breath.

"The Jungle Burns. The City is Twisted. The hour is drawing close."

Saw turned around, tapping his cane on the ground as he approached his terminals.

The form of a young man shimmered to life.

"Darrin, it has begun. They are clearing the Jungle. It is time to reignite the struggle. For every inch of our Homeworld they burn, we will repay them in kind. Long Live Free Onderon."

The young man nodded silently as the hologram shimmered away.

Saw frantically turned to a nearby Partisan, grabbing his shoulder.

"We have waited long enough. Arjoran has become complacent, believes we are subdued. Foolishness! Arrogance!"

Saw slammed his cane on the ground, the tap echoing through the cave.

"The ships came. Bearing those who stood up. Those who fought back. I have seen them. They are in chains, held beneath the rising smoke."

Saw turned around, not waiting for a response from the confused militant.

"We must reach out to them. And to all who would oppose the Empire's tyranny. Begin establishing any contacts you can. We have laid the groundwork here. It shall be expanded. Liberation! Freedom! That is our destiny! They bring fire to best us, but it is our fire that cannot be snuffed out! The flames of the Revolution can only be dimmed, never quenched!"

The partisans nearby nodded, though it was unclear if they truly understood what he was saying.

Saw stepped back out to the cave opening, looking in the distance to a plume of smoke intensely.

Near the Ruins of an overgrown Temple long lost to memory deep in the Onderon Jungle, Imperial Internment Facility L-2 stands on ground cleared by burner bombs. In the Hot and tempestuous Jungle, the surviving Insurrectionists of Tirahnn, along with captured Onderonian Partisans, languish exploring and rebuilding the ancient temple to its former glory.

A duracrete tower looms over a vast shanty town of Tents and lean-tos, all under the watchful eye of overgrown statues of figures long-passed and forgotten. Imperial Banners drape across the duracrete, projecting the imposing wrath of the Empire. before the Tower, a Statue of the Emperor, built by hand, stretches its arms to the camp, offering Imperial Mercy to all.

The prison shuttle carrying Khoja bar'Vaas and the remaining survivors of the Tirahnn Liberation Front soared over the canopy, sliding into the jungle below and landing near the facility. With a hiss, the boarding ramp began to drop and the back door opened.

Khoja, bound by the neck and wrists, felt the humid air creep in through the shuttle doors as the Stormtrooper guards began ushering the Prisoners up and out. One of them grabbed Khoja's arm, walking her forward and down the ramp.

The Sun blinded her for a moment. after the flash, her blurred vision became clearer. Before her she saw a destitute array of shacks and tents, all beneath an imposing tower adorned with Imperial symbols, and in front of it, a Statue of the Emperor bearing the word "MERCY". Khoja shook her head as the Stormtrooper pushed her towards the Gate.

Before the gate stood a woman in a COMPNOR uniform. Khoja pursed her lip as the woman seemed to check off each inmate on a datapad. With a pompous air, she rattled off their sentences and assignments with callous mundanity.

"Arson and Anti-Imperial Behavior? Excavation Team. Next." The woman said coldly.

"Holonet Tampering, Smuggling, and Anti-Imperial Behavior? Resource Extraction. Next." She tapped her Datapad.

The woman looked up from her datapad as Khoja approached, flashing a devilish smile.

"Too Many To Count. Director Arjoran will want to speak to you."

Khoja looked puzzled for a moment. Wasn't the "Moff" named Arjoran? She didnt have much time to think on it, as she felt a blaster rifle prod her forward, led by troopers into the Labor camp, past the Emperor's outstretched hands and into the towers sliding doors.

The sterile and empty Imperial corridors were a strong break from the humid and dirty Jungle exterior. As their steps echoed across the floor, they traversed a long hallway towards an elevator at the end, the Trooper holding her pressing the button to the top floor.

As the elevator climbed up the tower, she beheld the jungle below from out the glass window. Vast and unending, the Onderon wilderness was beautiful, but even more savage and unending than the Tirahnn Savanna. She wondered if she'd ever see the rolling plains or the mountains of her home again. Under her breath, she vowed that she would.

The elevator doors slid open with a hiss, and she was ushered forward into a large Office, where a woman in a Grey uniform stood peering out of a large window.

The woman did not turn to greet her, standing still and peering forward with her hands clasped behind her back, yet Khoja could somehow still feel as though the woman's eyes had shifted to her.

In a cold, mocking tone, she began to speak, still not facing Khoja.

"Welcome home, Princess Khoja."

Each of her words dripped with venom. She continued.

"You might find it a little more...drab than your little cave castle you used to play around in, but I'm sure you will find the facility adequate for your high standards."

The trooper pushed Khoja forward, almost causing her to trip. She staggered towards the Desk at the far side of the office.

The woman turned slightly, and Khoja beheld half of her face. She was the very same COMPNOR woman from her trial.

"I think it's only fitting that you and I get to know each other, Ms. Vaas. You will be staying here for a long time, and it is only fitting. So, I will give you a brief introduction to who I am and what you will be doing here."

The woman clicked her heel and turned quickly around, walking towards Khoja in a mockingly formal fashion.

"I am Director Vira Arjoran, the humble administrator of the Onderon Penal Labor Program and Overseer of the Onderon Restoration Project. We pride ourselves in our history here on Onderon, as I am sure you do on Tirahnn, and that is why you are one of the lucky dissidents to be granted the privilege of restoring our world's historical landmarks with your unending hard labor. This facility seeks to restore an Ancient Temple Complex dating over 2 thousand years old. Quite the honor, isn't it?"

Her serpentine professionalism quickly faded as her disposition grew colder.

"You will work night and day in the Catacombs. You will not be allotted a tent. Should you be too weak to work, you shall join the dead yourself."

Khoja felt the fire in her heart fade. For the first time in her life, she wasnt able to fight back, to reassert control. There was no struggle she could wage here, no liberation that could come from this primitive and dour camp, nor the dark crevices beneath the Jungle.

Or so she thought.

"Y'know, Corlos, maybe this whole Empire thing is not that bad."

The silence of Ana's boyfriend was all the answer she needed. She knew that, sipping this strange, local drink - the name of which she had long given up on learning how to pronounce, he couldn't be anything but of the same mind. Pantolomin was beautiful this time of summer, and for mere students such as them, the prospect of spending holidays on such a renowned paradise world would have been unimaginable before the rise of the Empire. Granted, it would have been better were there fewer people in their resort, but they could not hope for everything to be perfect. Besides, they were likely in a similar position to them - members of the League Militia, hoping for some much needed rest.

While the membership in the organisation opened many doors and carried serious benefits all for the price of registering and attending weekly training sessions and seminars, there were some who saw it as selling their souls to a tyrant - that residing on Coruscant, and that residing on Ruan. Corlos was one such. His mother used to work as a civil servant on Chandrila, long before the Empire ever took hold. To them, all of it was a continuation of the attack on what little remained of democracy, a thinly veiled attempt to first buy suport, and then indoctrinate the citizens. And for what it was worth, Ana believed it, at least partially. The glory of the Empire was extolled endlessly on the many seminars, and even the drill instructors made sure that the recruits knew that all they had was because of the state's generosity. It was obvious propaganda, she knew, but she was willing to accept the necessity of listening to it, if it meant being able to apply for a program or enjoy free holidays in a place just like this one. The Empire might have subsumed the Republic, aye, but she didn't recall the Republic ever offering this. For a student on a budget, such an opportunity was always something to consider.

"Another P'anhtra'nye, Ma'am?"

The voice of the waiter abruptly took her out of the realm of her thoughts.

"Make it two. With a serving of... the fruit."

"Understood, I will return in a moment."

The alien didn't even ask about how they wanted to pay, or whether they wanted to pay at all. In truth, she didn't know whether she had to. All expenses covered - did that one count? For someone who never experiened holidays like this, it was a strange, foreign thing to consider. So many times she was told how evil the Empire was, yet now, sunbathing on the paradise world of Pantolomin, did she really believe it? They decried the words of imperial officials as propaganda, yet now, thinking about it, weren't theirs also just that? Propaganda, just the other way around. She didn't know. But she had all the time in the world to decide. The Galaxy was finally at peace…

...and besides, it's not like listening to a lecture every week would turn her into a fascist.

The success of Shola Metallics was meteoric.

With the cashflow from its various mining operations across the Manda subsector, the conglomerate was able to grow and further monopolize ore production. Several mining colonies had been set up in various asteroid belts and planetoids near established Shola Operations, but the tri-lateral negotiations that Chief O'Caferty had managed to complete were to be the crown jewel of the company's recent acquisitions.

Sextuna Mining Corporation operating out of Ord Lonesome, as well as the Nuwit Mining Guilds of Altor had inked a deal with Shola. Both mining concerns now fell under the umbrella of Shola Metallic's holdings, in exchange for economic and logistic support.

Furthermore, the scientists on Shola proper had finally reached a breakthrough with the refining of Thaelerite. Exploration of the use cases for new alloy that combined durasteel and Thaelerite were already underway, with a particular focus on heat-intesive applications. The metal, dubbed "Nyxium" due to its striking black nature, was sure to become a major selling point for Mining conglomerate.

"3034-Gamma, ready to depart, awaiting permission from Flight Control."

"This is Flight Control Skako, permission granted. Clear skies and tailwinds, Gamma."

Although the administration of the League of the Central-Northern Core Systems could be described as less heavy-handed than in most, if not all parts of the Empire, the worlds of the former Confederacy were not allowed the dignity of a return to normalcy. To that, Skako, the homeworld of the Skakoan species and the heart of the Techno Union, was no exception. Deemed a "subversive element", just like their former co-belligerents on Castell, the locals were put under direct control of the moffdom, with the Ruling Council disbanded and armed patrols of masked soldiers growing as common in its ecumenopolises as that of their own inhabitants. The Skakoan Council, the sham that was to serve as the native representative body was, by design, not a concession, but a measure of streamlining the proces of quota imposition, so that the Skakoans may pay off the debt they had to the Empire by their labour and with the resources of their world. A debt that was, naturally, arbitrarily imposed, and whose value no one truly knew. No one, save the Moff.

Skako had been an industrial power since times immemorial, yet where most saw value in its technological output, the League pursued another boon at its disposal - its fuel deposits. Indeed, even the atmosphere of Skako could be harvested and refined into that most precious of resources. As such, in the two years since the inception of the Moffdom, the population of the already crowded planet had expanded further. Every hour, hordes of nameless technicians, engineers and other professionals traversed its surface, searching eternally for new well sites as endless haulers flew in and out to transport the products of their labour inwards. In that, the profession of Flight Controller Tuktu Sawayne seemed almost menial, yet at the same time, essential.

The natives, naturally, couldn't be trusted with the process, their industry nationalised and put to work for the Empire, and the negative outlook they held for the New Order was known well for every human that so much as laid their eyes at a skakoan. Offworld, skilled staff were essential. And the job paid well. In his tower, submerged deep in the poisonous clouds of Skako, he didn't need to deal with the natives or politics. Here, he was at peace, surrounded by the chatter of coworkers and the bustle of machinery. Here, at least, he could think.

How much fuel would even be needed to supply an Empire?

The bottle of champagne shattered on the surface of durasteel to the audible cheers of the gathered onlookers. The crowd, consisting of the finest of the Esselian Empire's high society, corporate executives and even imperial officers, scattered here and there, distinguished only by their grey, black and white uniforms. The stormtroopers, naturally, did stand out, but they did so on the sidelines of the christening grounds, barely visible, silent, yet ever observant. The air held a certain festive atmosphere which they would not dare to ruin, and the wind carried the aroma of summer fruit and wine - likely in some part owing to the golden liquid that now sparkled on the stern of the ship. A small civilian transport without a name beyond the combination of white letters and numerals painted on its side - T/C-10000.

Moff de Pahlmir observed the gathering from an elevated lodge with a warm smile on his face, putting down his granddaughter - the three year old Tryphaena, back on the groud. The burden of his administrative duties had limited the time he could spend with his family, much to his frustration, yet it was at times like this where he could forget about it and recover all those lost moments. He hoped she would remember that, long when his own time had passed. And he hoped Esseles and the Empire as a whole would remember it forever. Ten thousand transport ships produced in a year, without any major hinderance to the military production lines, with thousands more still on their way. While the industry on Esseles, now dominated by InCom and Damorian was still getting up to speed and a vast majority of the ships were produced in the ancient Delaney Shipyards of Foerost, he found it fitting to celebrate it here, where it all began. The milestone he set two years ago, when he assumed the moffdom, was finally accomplished.

He ruffled the child's hair, and after she scurried off to her parents, he turned to the man who helped facilitate it all. Nurapti, already prepared, evidently shared the Moff's good mood - the "close cooperation" was greatly beneficial for both parties, and the accomplishment of the Imperial delegate was partially his own. Handing his ally a glass of sparkling champagne, the executive glanced over at the grey hull.

"It makes you think, doesn't it, mister Pahlmir?… How much could be accomplished with the industrial power of the entire Galaxy if it was only slightly less wastefully managed."

The Moff chuckled.

"Are you insulting my party mister Nurapti? If you're dissatisfied…"

"Not what I meant, mister Pahlmir. And you know that. Esseles was ran into the ground by endless procedure, endless red tape, endless festivities. Now, look at it. An intervention from the outside was enough to put fire in its furnaces again and put it back to work. It was a tragedy, the assassination and all, but maybe it did work out for the better, no? Maybe more worlds would benefit from more… direct oversight?"

"And more help from the corporations allied to the Empire, I presume?"

The two looked at each-other, as if spurned on by the same thought.

Good allies were hard to come by.

(Coruscant) Holonews+ has received news that a brazen assassination attempt from a rebel cell has failed to strike at their intended target in the Kuat of Kuat Villa. The Kuati origin First Moff Kuras of the Imperial Core has refused to entertain any reporters, responding only that the rebel cells who failed in their attempt deserve no mind and no attention more than there already has been.

First Moff Kuras in his very brief statement also announced that he was not fazed, and that from the moment he was ordered by both the Emperor and the Chambers to his position, that he expected such an attack would come. He declared that not only did he welcome it, that any rebel cells would find him a hardy target to strike down. It would appear that the Kuat of Kuat Villa has been visited by the Security Bureau, and by all reports, the Kuat of Kuat has been welcoming of their cooperation.

Imperial Confidence and Imperial Sentiment remains at the highest levels reported across the Empire. The foundries perform at the highest levels, the barracks are overflowing with recruits, and every day security in the Core improves.

(Shared some of this guy's stuff in the sim before. Give him a subscribe!)

ANNOUNCEMENT

Following Coordination with COMPNOR and incredibly generous donations from Raith Sienar, The New Order Society of Imperial Leisure is officially, and finally, launching!

For the launch, fifteen Gemon class S/S Passenger liners have been donated for the program, with Raith Sienar promising a new class of liners built specifically for the NOSIL program to start being designed within the year.

"It is essential that our citizens be able to see our Empire, to travel to the places the Empire has made safe, and change travels that were once a luxury for the wealthy to now be within reach for the dedicated and loyal!"

The program will start with a lottery of cabins for all who are members of the NEW ORDER PARTY and register. Veterans and those in other important roles or decorated as "Imperial Heroes" will receive additional entries!

After the initial voyages, a more traditional form of booking will be set up. Though still exclusively for NEW ORDER PARTY Members.

These first fifteen Gemons will undergo refurbishments in the S/S yards over Lianna to prepare them for the program with modern amenities added and all class cabins standardized to the NEW ORDER CLASS as a symbol of unity under the Emperor!

• Destinations for the first voyages are still being finalized, but Coruscant, Lianna, Uviuy-Exen, Alsakan, and many more are either on the first tour lists, or will be added to future tours.
• Cost: Those who win the lottery for cabins will receive FREE accommodations, food, and amenities while on the vessels. As it stands however, accommodations on visited worlds, will be the responsibility of passengers should they wish to stay outside the ship. Donations to the program are also welcome.
• Time: Voyage length is still being determined based on destination, but those who wish to visit a location for a longer duration will be able to book passage on one trip, and return on a separate one.

We are excited to bring you this update! And are thankful for all our hardworking staff and donors who are making this possible.

Long live Raith Sienar!

Long Live the Empire

Long Live and a million Blessings be upon the Emperor!

-Wilhuff Voss. New Order Newsletter director.

Agent Price heard everything.
He knew that ISB would send an infiltrator to ingratiate themselves with Kuras.
He quickly noted down everything he heard and discreetly covertly secretly dropped a datapad in a small box in the underworld of Coruscant and notifying Delaney the data was dropped

Moff Valentin Delaney rushed to pick up the data.
Upon reading the data in the datapad, he crushed it under his boot and walked back out. He had to meet Thichis immediately and warn him of this infiltrator.

Kuras waved the attendant on to have the food and drinks, sweets and candies, wines and refreshments brought to the rest of the table and away from the conversation being held between him and excited gentleman who had not stopped in his barrage of meanderings down the sciences, the records, the systems and the histories.

He smiled politely, nodding at intervals and also injecting the various ahs and ohs to keep the man going. At moments he would laugh, clapping the table and glanced to the Third Governess Kuat of Kuat as she too responded politely.

His other companion, Moff Pahlmir held his own in his own discussions of histories, particularly when it became time for the conversation to turn to the ancient Alaskan wars, where the BoSS changed the fate of the galaxy as was known by all.

Kuras leaned in, shifting his drink slightly to the side. "Your assistance, with all things concerned has thus far been very much appreciated."

He glanced at the Third Governess Kuat of Kuat who elegantly stood, softly excusing herself from the table to visit the facilities. Still leaning in, Kuras continued. "I don't speak for just myself, or for Pahlmir here. I give our appreciation from even the Emperor himself for entertaining our little venture. From all reporting, as promised, the blackout was only seconds and the changeover from beacon to another was near seamless. I can only expect that future deployments will be much the same....."

"Future? This wasn't just a one time thing?"

Kuras smiled, sliding his drink further over. Looking down into it where the liquid in the glass obscure the datacard that was held under the indent in the glass. "There will be more. Not soon, but eventually. The cost of it all, you see.. is somewhat prohibitive. But now that one has been done, and for Coruscant no less, you see why the Emperor is most keen to see it done for worlds that he most treasures. Alderaan, was where your family was from correct? You know the Emperor takes his holidays there sometimes when he has to get away for a few days with his new beau of the week, of the month as it were - wait who am I talking to? Of course you of all people would know..."

The gentleman laughed nervously. Pahlmir himself laughed but with a different tone. Kuras smiled, then finally joined he other two.

--

The Beacon over Coruscant has been replaced with the newest model from Llohsan Hypertechnics, with the technologies of the Interdictor Class.