Author: Yeah no note or anything, nothing really happened but its every chapter so might as well post something here
His (mauls) palms are sweaty, robotic knees weak, sith arms are heavy
There's blood on his red zebrak skin already, Sidious spaghetti
The small courtyard behind the palace had been turned into something almost festive for the night. Strings of soft golden lights hung between the trees, and two low bonfires crackled near the stone walls. A modest spread of food covered the tables roasted plains game, fresh bread, spiced stews from the native clans, and several bottles of the stronger Elyrian fruit wine that had become popular among the Mandalorians.
It was Atii's sixteenth birthday, and for once the palace felt relaxed.
She stood near one of the fires, laughing at something one of her father's warriors had said, her usual armour was gone; she wore a simple dark tunic and loose trousers, hair tied back loosely with a leather cord. The firelight caught on her face as she turned and spotted me approaching.
"Finally," she called, grinning. "I was starting to think the great Governor Voss had forgotten."
I handed her the long, narrow package I'd been carrying. It was wrapped in plain dark cloth, nothing fancy."Open it," I said.
She took it, eyebrow raised, and pulled the cloth away, inside was a lightweight combat knife, the blade a matte black alloy with a subtle ripple from the forging. The hilt had been worked with both Mandalorian knotwork and a small Elyrian plains eagle etched near the guard the balance was perfect for her.
Atii turned the knife over in her hands, testing the edge with her thumb. Her grin softened into something quieter. "You remembered I broke my old one during that last drill," she said. She flipped it once, caught it cleanly, and looked back at me. "It's good. Really good."
I shrugged, but I couldn't keep the small smile off my face. "Figured you'd want something that wouldn't snap when you inevitably try to stab me with it again."
She laughed and slapped my shoulder hard enough to make me step back. "Careful, Voss. I might test it right now."
Someone passed us two glasses of the fruit wine, it was stronger than the usual stuff warm in the throat, with a faint sweetness that lingered we drank slowly while the fire popped and the music drifted around us.
Across the courtyard I noticed Jaster and Elara standing close together near the far wall they weren't so close that they were touching, but the space between them had clearly disappeared to almost nothing.
Jaster said something low, and Elara tilted her head back and laughed a rare, unguarded sound. Jaster's hand brushed her arm for a moment as he pointed something out in the sky.
She leaned in to look, her shoulder resting lightly against his. They stayed like that, talking quietly, the rest of the party seeming to fade around them.
Atii followed my gaze and smirked into her glass. "About time," she muttered.
I took another sip and didn't disagree.
The night went on like that easy conversation, more wine, the occasional burst of laughter when someone told a story. Atii stayed close, occasionally nudging me with her elbow or teasing me about how stiff I still looked even at a party, at one point she leaned in, breath warm against my ear from the wine."You're allowed to relax for one night, you know," she said. "The galaxy won't end if you stop scowling for five minutes."
I looked at her flushed cheeks, bright eyes, the easy way she held herself tonight and felt something tight in my chest loosen just a little.
"Maybe," I said and she clinked her glass against mine, holding my gaze for a second before pulling back with a grin and storming with a laugh towards a table where the arm wrestling contest is happening.
The fires burned lower as the hours passed, the party slowly thinned out, people drifting off with quiet goodnights.
Atii stayed until the end, sitting on the stone bench beside me as the last embers glowed, sixteen now and she was just fifteen like me yesterday.
***
Two months had passed since Atii's birthday and I stood on the observation deck of the orbital shipyard, the massive structure now more than half complete around me. Welders and droids moved across the skeletal frame in steady patterns while cargo shuttles ferried fresh materials up from the moon factories, the view below showed Elyria Prime turning slowly, its plains and new settlements visible even from this height.
Further out, the gas giant's orbital platform glowed with active refineries, feeding power and fuel back to the planet even though its still under partial construction.
I scrolled through the latest consolidated report on my datapad.
Trade between the four systems had increased by almost sixty percent with the new patrol routes were holding; raider incidents had dropped sharply in the shared border zones. On Elyria itself, the factories on the mining moon were running at ninety-one percent capacity, churning out duranium plating, starship components, and basic weapon parts.
The gas giant platform was producing usable fuel and blaster energy cells at a steady rate while migrants continued to arrive in controlled numbers all vetted, all with clear plans, families given priority.
Less than a million had settled on Elyria Prime so far, with another three hundred thousand spread across the moon and the three neighboring systems.
The integration wasn't perfect though, on Veyra and Korrin Reach, local administrators still dragged their feet on some supply requests while a few older stormtrooper detachments grumbled about taking orders from "Elyrian command." One of the governors' aides had quietly complained that Elyrian patrol ships were "acting like they owned the lanes."
Which, we actually did, not on paper but we did.
Small things, but they added up, still, the systems were stabilizing with trade lanes being safer and food and medical shipments were reaching places that had gone without for years. People were starting to believe the protection might actually last.
I closed the datapad and looked out at the growing shipyard again. The first defensive turbolaser emplacements were already mounted and powered, in another few months the station would be able to service capital ships and house a full fighter wing not to mention of building our own.
Though sadly Harlan explained to me that in order to build our own capital ships we would need to go through an audit that even the emperor himself would not be able to help with since that certain government department has been active longer than the republic was, dating back way before even the old republic, they are sort of ATF and IRS for capital ships and shipyard.
Everyone knows not to fuck with IRS no matter the iteration or the galaxy you are in, even Kuat Drive Yards some hundreds years ago failed the audit and the motherfuckers pulled up with fifteen sector fleets and locked down the yard for three years until they fulfil all the requirements and pay a fee.
Additionally, I know for a fact when the rebellion ramps up in coming years that shipyard will be targeted by rebels to either blow up or secretly buy ships which will then cause the empire to just simply take it over, no thank you. I will stick to my lovely cruisers and starfighters, they didnt take over the smaller shipyards until it was too late and by that point I hope to have enough pull in the empire like Kuat to simply just prioritise their orders instead of them just taking it over.
It was then that Rusty stepped up beside me, his tall black-and-silver frame catching the work lights. "Population growth across the four systems is steady, not only from the meatbag immigrants but through natural procreation of meatbag life. Truly amazing that meatbags can mash a screw into a hole and another of them pops up in months" he said.
I just turned to him slowly with a weird fucking look in my eye and from the corner of my eye I can do many others around us do the same.
Rusty does not care and simply continues his report.
"Integration friction is down to twelve percent from twenty-eight percent last month. Patrol efficiency has improved by nineteen percent since the new ships were fully integrated."
I nodded slowly. "Yeahhh... Right."
I then moved my eyes back down on the planet below.
After some more thinking and having a mini panic attack that the amount of people under my protection is steadily increasing I turned away from the viewport and started walking back toward the shuttle bay. Rusty fell in step beside me without another word.
The work continued behind us, steady and unrelenting.
***
A few weeks after the two-month mark, the reports from the border systems started turning strange. I was on the bridge of the Gozanti after just checking the report on the refinary on the gas giant when the latest patrol summary came in.
The outer systems north and northeast the ones the three governors had brought under our protection had been relatively quiet for months. Then, suddenly, the pattern shifted.
Pirate activity had spiked hard for two weeks with small raids on isolated mining outposts, cargo ships vanishing, a couple of settlements hit. The attacks were messy, opportunistic, the kind of sloppy work we had grown used to from the remnants of the old confederation.
Then, just as quickly, everything went silent. No new raids.
No distress calls with the usual chatter from smugglers and independent operators dried up almost overnight, instead, patrol ships started picking up odd sensor ghosts small, fast-moving contacts that appeared on the very edge of the systems, lingered for a few minutes, then vanished before intercept could be attempted.
Drones, the logs described them as small, low-signature, highly maneuverable they never engaged, never transmitted, just watched. When our ships tried to close in, the contacts disappeared into the black with clean, professional evasion patterns.
I stood at the command console, staring at the compiled sensor data, the pattern was too coordinated to be random scavengers or leftover pirate scouts.
Rusty stood beside me, purple photoreceptors glowing as he cross-referenced the contacts. "These are not standard pirate reconnaissance units," he said. "Signature profiles suggest military-grade stealth systems and advanced evasion protocols, they are probing our patrol coverage and reaction times."
I tapped the console, pulling up the last known locations, the drones had been sighted near the shared borders between our four systems and the sparsely populated space beyond with only a few low leveled governors even poorer than us.
"Something bigger is moving out there," I muttered. "The pirates were making noise, then they went quiet right as these drones appeared, someone is watching how we respond."
I turned to the comm officer. "Signal all ships, I want more ships out and about, at least 4 more should do it.
The officer acknowledged and began transmitting the orders.
Rusty tilted his head slightly. "Increasing amount of ships will improve response speed by an estimated thirty-four percent. However, it also increases the risk of detection if any Imperial inspectors board the ships."
"I know," I said quietly. "But right now I'm more worried about whatever is sending those drones than I am about a surprise audit."I stared at the star map again, the faint ghost contacts marked in red along the borders.
The quiet after the chaos felt worse than the raids themselves.
Someone was out there, testing us.
And they were being very careful about it and I dont like it one fucking bit.
Some time later, its now the fourth month of the new year, so around 8BBY. God, three more years and the shit show begins.
I stood in the main logistics centre of the palace, surrounded by glowing holomaps and scrolling data streams.
The population figures were climbing steadily, now more or less million new migrants had settled on Elyria Prime so far. Another half had spread across the rest.
Every arrival was vetted: no criminal records, a solid plan for work or settlement, and families given clear priority. The process was slow and careful, but it was working, new faces were appearing in the markets of Havenridge, in the factory shifts on the moon, and in the quieter towns of Veyra and Korrin Reach and new settlements being built itself on Elyria.
I was still scrolling through the latest growth report when an urgent notification flashed across the main display.
One of our convoys had been attacked, I pulled up the feed immediately. The video started playing on the large holoscreen. The convoy was a mixed group of freighters moving between Elyria and Korrin Reach. The attack came fast. Three sleek, well-maintained ships dropped out of hyperspace in a clean flanking formation with a squadron of assorted fighters and bombers.
Their weapons fire was precise targeted disabling shots on engines and shield generators rather than wild destruction. The lead attacker was a modified Firespray patrol craft with upgraded stealth plating and heavy ion cannons.
The other two were custom light corvettes, fast and heavily armed.
These weren't the usual ragged pirate skiffs or hastily and sloppily converted or fixed up haulers or stolen ships.
I watched the boarding teams move in, their armour was high-quality, matte black with reinforced plating while their movements were disciplined, professional there was no panic, no looting frenzy. They secured the cargo holds quickly and efficiently, then extracted with minimal damage to the freighters themselves.
Bounty hunters at least High-end ones.
I paused the footage and zoomed in on one of the corvettes. The hull markings had been scrubbed, but the weapon signatures and engine profiles didn't match any known pirate group we had on file
Rusty stepped closer, purple photoreceptors scanning the data. "Professional outfit," he said. "Better gear, better coordination, better ships. This was not random. They knew the convoy route and timing."
I stared at the frozen image, jaw tight ."Send the full sensor logs and video to Reza and Torv and others," I ordered. "Tell them to run everything through any channels we have and analyse any footage. I want to know where these ships came from and who hired them."
Rusty nodded once and began transmitting.
I kept watching the paused feed, the clean lines of the bounty hunter vessels hanging in space. The pirates had gone quiet.
Now professionals were testing our convoys, fucking fantastic. Absolutely outstanding, fuck me I need more Caf.
I just stared at the tactical display, the bounty hunter attack had been a clear message. Someone was probing us, testing response times and weaknesses. It was time to push back.
"Activate the reserve fleet," I said.
Rusty's purple photoreceptors glowed as he relayed the order. Across the system, the ships we had repaired and kept from the old pirate station began powering up. Dozens of vessels came online at once, Four retrofitted Carrack-class light cruisers, their hulls still bearing faint scars from the original battle but now fully restored.
Seven DP20 gunships, fast and heavily armed.
Nine light freighters converted into gunships with reinforced plating and extra turbolaser mounts. Twelve smaller armed vessels everything from modified bulk freighters to fast patrol cutters, and the skiffs: twenty-eight patrol skiffs and assault skiffs, all upgraded with better shielding and weapon hardpoints.
Along with them came the fighter and bomber wings: forty-seven various fighters of various makes, thirty-one patrol craft mainly Firespray pressed into combat roles, nineteen Y-wing bombers, and a handful of captured TIE variants that had been stripped and reconfigured.
Every single one of these ships was crewed entirely by droids since we still don't have enough crews to run them. The ships moved with cold, mechanical precision the moment they received the activation signal.
I watched the holomap light up as the various ships gave affirmatives withing 15 minutes. "Ghost transactions are already moving through the Banking Clan," Rusty said.
I just noded. "Make them look like premium purchases from independent dealers. The credits will route to the dead-end account Grok controls. On paper it looks like we're spending heavily to buy more ships. In reality, he'll use those funds for whatever he needs without leaving traces."
Rusty confirmed the transfers with a single nod. "Transactions initiated. The accounts are layered through six cut-outs. No link back to Elyria."
I fucking hope so.
I kept my eyes on the display as the reserve ships slotted into the wider patrol network. "Strengthen all border patrols," I continued. "Increase drone and scout coverage in the neighbouring empty systems. I want to know where these bounty hunters are operating from and who hired them by yesterday."
"Orders sent," Rusty replied. "Patrol density will increase by forty-five percent within twelve hours. Scout droids are already deploying."
The holomap continued to update in real time. The new ships spread out, forming tighter grids around the four systems. Fighters and bombers will be launched from the larger vessels in tight, perfectly synchronized wings, while Skiffs and patrol craft will be darting ahead as forward scouts, and hit and run ships.
I stared at the growing web of patrol lines, the icons thousands more droids now actively guarding the borders.
Someone out there had sent professionals instead of the usual rabble.
Now those professionals were going to learn that the systems they were probing had teeth they hadn't seen yet.
In famous Jedi Master Windu words. Come Get Some Motherfucker.
***
Five days later, a priority holo arrived from Grand Admiral Pellaeon, I was reviewing patrol logs in my office when the encrypted channel opened. Pellaeon appeared, looking composed and professional as always. "Governor Voss," he began with a small nod. "Empire Day celebrations will be held on Coruscant on the 23rd of the fifth month. I would like to personally invite you to attend. It would be an excellent opportunity to demonstrate the progress and loyalty that governors of the Outer Rim have for the empire, especially ones under your care."
He paused briefly, then continued in a warmer tone. "The Emperor himself will be present for the main ceremony, and several high-ranking officials will attend the associated events, your presence would be noted and appreciated and dispel any doubts that certain factions... might have started to try and spread to tarnish your and your late parents reputation. Many in the Core have heard of the stabilization you have achieved in your sector this would be a good chance to show them in person."
Pellaeon gave a slight smile. "I look forward to seeing you there in person Kael. Safe travels." The holo winked out. I sat back in my chair for a moment, mind already turning.
A public invitation to Empire Day on Coruscant. It was both an honour and a stage that I cant really refuse, I can deepen my bonds with Paellaeon, Thrawn and possibly others. But after the bounty hunter attack on the convoy, my paranoia had kicked into high gear, I feel like the first few months when I arrived here fresh after the assassination.
Someone was clearly testing me. Testing us, and the idea of traveling to the heart of the Empire with minimal protection made my skin crawl.
I stood up and began issuing orders through my comm. "Reza, prepare the fleet. We will take the Gladiator-class Iron Reaver as flagship, accompanied by the two Acclamators Resolute Dawn and Iron Vanguard. Four Kom'rk-class fighters, forty fighters of various assortments, fifty TIEs, and a squadron of bombers will fly escort. A contingent of one hundred and twenty Mandalorians will come with us."
I continued without pause."Jaster, Atii, Rusty, Mira, and Lira will accompany me. Torv will serve as my personal bodyguard. Thorn and the full palace guard detachment will come, plus three hundred additional stormtroopers and Varn's unit. Each Acclamator will carry seven hundred and fifty militia with heavy gear and a few armoured speeders and hover craft. In total we will have two hundred palace guards, three hundred extra stormtroopers, one thousand five hundred militia, one hundred and twenty Mandalorians, and the rest will be crew and support personnel."
I added the hidden insurance almost as an afterthought. "Load fifteen thousand deactivated battle droids and two hundred Vulture droids in the holds just in case. We will also carry a large amount of trade goods and cargo to sell on Coruscant." Harlan, Elara, and several Mandalorian clan leaders would remain behind with Karlach to hold down the fort with all forces on alert and Grok will be notified to move some of his ships and available craft and droids closer in case of an incursion.
Reza acknowledged the orders crisply. "The fleet will be assembled and ready within forty-eight hours."
The fleet might be assembled and ready but the provisions, logistics and wares to be sold wont, plus the around 3 weeks of travel or around that and we should arrive about 10 days or so before the celebrations.
I stared at the star map showing the four systems under my influence, the bounty hunters had made my paranoia resurface. The thought of traveling to Coruscant with anything less than overwhelming personal guard felt like asking for another attempt on my life.
This wasn't just a celebration, it was a statement.
We would arrive not as a minor governor, but as someone who now commanded real power, at least here in the outer rim, because even the smallest power from the core commands thousands of ships I will be ready.
Somewhat.
I hope.
***
Eight days later the fleet was finally ready.
The main landing fields and orbital hangars around Havenridge had turned into a controlled storm of activity. Shuttles and heavy lifters moved constantly between the surface and the ships in orbit. Crates of trade goods refined duranium, rare Elyrian crystals, woven native textiles, and carefully selected artifacts along with assortment of other goods bought in bulk that are cheap in these and surrounding systems but sell well in the core.
They were all loaded into every available cargo bay. Provisions for the long journey filled the storerooms: preserved meats, dried fruits, medical supplies, and enough ration packs to feed thousands for weeks.
I watched from the bridge of the Iron Reaver as the final personnel came aboard.
Palace guards in gleaming white armour with reinforced neck and pauldron armour marched up the ramps in neat columns. Three hundred additional stormtroopers followed, their white armour gleaming under the loading lights, Varn's unit moved with quiet discipline.
Torv stood at my side like a shadow, already in full armour, rifle slung across his back one of his old ones but one of the most deadly and accurate ones, it can switch between long range sniper and a shotgun while Thorn coordinated the security detail with sharp, efficient gestures.
The Mandalorians arrived next one hundred and twenty elite of the elite warriors in full beskar, led by Jaster with Atii walking beside her father, her new knife visible at her hip. She caught my eye across the hangar and gave a small, confident nod.
Rusty, Mira, and Lira boarded together, the tall black droid carrying several sealed data cases. Reza was already on the bridge of the Iron Reaver, acting as overall fleet captain for the journey, the three clone trooper captains took command of the two Acclamators.
In the lower holds, thousands of deactivated battle droids and two hundred Vulture droids were carefully secured in racks a hidden insurance policy no one outside our innermost circle knew about.
All systems had been double-checked. Grok had been given full operational authority over the hidden base meanwhile the four systems fell to others during our absence like Harlan and Elara, along with the remaining Mandalorian clan leaders and Karlach, would hold down the fort on Elyria and its surroundings.
I stood on the command walkway of the Iron Reaver and gave the final order. "All ships, this is Governor Voss. Begin departure sequence."
One by one the vessels broke orbit.
The massive Gladiator-class Iron Reaver took the lead, flanked by the two Acclamators Resolute Dawn and Iron Vanguard. Four Kom'rk-class fighters flew in tight formation. Fighters and bombers stopped their nearby patrolling and started docking into the hangars preparing for the long journey to the core, some of the fighters and bombers have hyperspace capabilities but their hyperspace engines are slower and it would just waste unnecessary fuel to have them fly separately.
The smaller support ships and armed freighters followed in disciplined columns on either side of the bigger ships, The fleet accelerated away from Elyria, the red planet shrinking behind us.
The journey to Coruscant would take roughly three weeks with only few hours every few days to adjust our course into a new hyperlane as well as to dock and buy some more supplies along the way.
We were scheduled to arrive ten days before Empire Day on the 23rd of the fifth month giving us time to settle in and prepare, I myself will be hosted in Palleaons personal manse in the upper levels while I am already in talks with forces on the capital for my ships to have their own space while smaller ones like Komrks will have dedicated hangar space on one of the lower levels.
I stood on the bridge, hands clasped behind my back, watching the stars streak into hyperspace lines as the fleet jumped.
Four systems now waited behind us.
Millions of people.
A growing industrial base.
A hidden droid army expanding in silence.
And ahead of us lay Coruscant the literal beating heart of the known universe for more then tens of thousands of years.
The blue tunnel of hyperspace stretched ahead but the journey had just begun.