Danger Beyond Vader
Traee Motal waited for Moff Blister to step onto the muddy brown soil of Motal's planet Kip, the prison world holding vile gangsters such as Zorba the Hutt.
"Good thing it's dry right now," Traee whispered to an assistant in a white cloak.
Red cloaked and helmeted royal guards, or crafty imitations, flanked a slim, slow moving, pale-skinned starship veteran as he regally exited the 'Llambada' class Imperial shuttle. The ex-strategic insertion storm trooper named Colonel Motal walked to the end of the ramp as Blister reached the end, then extended his hand.
"Greetings, Sir Moff Blister, welcome to the Kip System, our facilities are in your hands," he assured Blister.
"I'm honored to be accepted on your world, Colonel. May my personnel take my things to my quarters?' Traee nodded.
"Certainly," he looked down at his comm. "Leslie, show Blister's people where to take their things." The boy rushed.
"Yessir," and ran toward the shuttle. The red guards moved their hands toward their blasters a little to hastily for well-trained diplomatic security.
'If his personal guards aren't even completely trained, then I wouldn't expect his crewmen to be at the high level either, which means I can bully him in our conversation.'
Traee masked his smile by turning to watch the luggage carriers run with the warlord's crud. Finally, he turned back to the arrivals.
"Why don't we commence our conversation on Kip Tower, the tall skeletal tower you must have seen on your trip to my surface. C'mon, an air speeder's waitin'," he invited a little too casually.
'He knows I've noticed his guards and their lack of restraint.'
Traee smiled, but he refused to lock eyes with Blister.
"Alright, my guards and I will meet with you on that tower, but I need some time with my staff for a moment, agreed?" As if answering a request from a student, Traee said "you're excused."
Moff Blister irritably turned away and exited into his own shuttle. Lead lectured his own staff.
"That's what the other remaining warlords are like in the core systems, un-satiated gluttons prone to flaky tantrums. Luckily, it's not too late to appease him, so that I can still get what I want from him. One new member of his staff asked in a puzzled tone,
"I don't understand, how will upsetting him lead to appeasement?" Traee smiled cunningly, and answered proudly,
"This guy's got an ego problem, as all Imperial warlords do, so, after that sting he'll be muttering about how he would have become the new Emperor if he had a few more things in his tool box."
Mayor Gallant felt fright.
"So, we give him the planet?"
Motal assured him that was never considered.
"Negative, I was thinking, oh, something like a terror weapon."
The Space Trooper, Loran, didn't like the sound of this at all.
"You mean the TIE-bombers, am I right? We can't give him those, sir, we don't know if this guy's mind is healthy or anything." Traee Motal confidently smiled again.
"This will work, my special committees have target lists on the worlds that we could conquer in two days, and I'll let him have one and enjoy his success by gloating about it on the holo net. Don't worry, I'll control him before it's too late."
Thanks to the labor 'droids, the prison world Kip didn't have the appearance of the world feared by people who couldn't survive on a planet like Kessal. Instead, the planet was beginning to look more like a developed world beyond even the development of the Wookie world of Kashyakk. Many rows of vigilant ground cover was visible below the giant land speeder; Traee was very proud of his project to turn the prison world into a world that would soon be as glorious as the many New Republic worlds.
'Moff Blister has no idea that he is actively working to improve this world. What a fool. Stage two of my puppet show will start the Hutt rolling, I hope.'
The treaty room proved to be just as effective in operating strings as Traee had planned.
"Are you comfortable, Mister Blister?" The human woman who was already waiting in the treaty room asked as the Imperial visitors walked in.
"Don't ever call me that!" The warlord erupted. The puny man's redness receded as he willed to calm to purge his rage.
"I really should think about changing my name," he muttered, wiping sweat from his pallor face.
"No, I'm upset," he told her. He was about to ask her what her name was when Traee Motal and his special forces walked in.
"Guri, is Sir Blister ill?" He smiled inwardly after seeing the end of that minor victory occur.
"He's OK, Sir. He just needs to take his medication, I think," she said innocently.
"Oh tangelo stink!" He felt clearly insulted again.
"Relax, Sir, I think I have something that will cheer you up," Traee said, handing the warlord a datapad.
"What's this?" Guri answered.
"It's a report, press the news flimsy icon that's on the screen."
Everything of the warlord's face widened in surprised delight.
"TIE-bombers," Guri confirmed it.
"Yessir, 870 fully operational, fully loaded, last block."
"In one moment I could destroy 870 targets?" It was an obvious answer.
"Of course, as long as you could command them all, you are capable of doing that, right?" Traee gave the motivating challenge.
"Yes I can. Oh glory to the Empire!" What a boast! For the first time, Traee openly smiled in front of the petty warlord.
End of stages one and two, Traee.
Key words
Flimsy: paper
Datapad: Palm Pilot for the Star Wars Universe
TIE: Twin Ion Engine fighter
Moff: Imperial dictator
Air speeder: high altitude hover car, a plane
A Little Demonstration
"Nice bridge, Moff Blister, I see that you've personally directed the development of the Disparager," Traee applauded the warlord, while touring the command area aboard Moff Blister's flagship, one that could be identified as a star destroyer simply by hearing or seeing its name.
"We've launched, Sir, the TIE-bombers left the towed-barge hangers, and are moving into the system. ETA at the Colonial Moons in two minutes," a middle-aged female tech reported.
"This will be delicious, TIE-bombers are very good with asteroid belts. Few bombers will have to be diverted by them, and a massive amount will still be flying at the moons," Traee said to Blister, pleased with himself.
Blister, however, seemed to be looking for Darth Vader to tell him he had failed. The Empire tends to do that with people, even today, long after the death of Vader and the loss of Endor.
"The assault has begun; glide bombs have disabled all primary defensive guns in the belt, shields are rising on the Colonial Moons. TIE-ugly fighters are taking off, but-"
The tech reporting from situations stopped momentarily.
"Stand-off cluster bombs have just eliminated them and all support structures for the Fighter Militia. Electro-optically guided bombs are targeting Y-wings-"
The holo-display images appeared on the bridge; and then faded away.
"Y-wings destroyed."
On the display, azure points moved toward black images of heavy gun batteries. Batteries to unwieldy even to track TIE-bombers effectively.
And to big to be mobile.
"Special anti-ship torpedoes are closing in on the anti-ship batteries," the crew felt buried in suspense.
"The guns are eliminated, a conventional proton bomb drop has breached the shields, and New Republic delivered TIE-fighters are finally lifting out of their hangers."
High time to invade the system.
"Helmsman, jump into system. We must enter the battle," Blister ordered, knowing that those TIEs require proper fleet intercept.
Traee contacted his TIE-Intercepter squadron.
"Guri, time to brandish arms. We have New Republic shield-fitted TIE-fighters out there, so take care."
"Sir, I have a special self interest to take care," she protested, even as the star destroyer entered hyperspace.
It was a transient jump, but it removed the gap. Abruptly, the interceptors had a definite chance of preempting the loss of the bombers.
Smart guys, they broke from the bombers to engage the nascent villains.
Guri and her wingman dove toward the moon to avoid a head-to-head pass on a shielded fighter. 'My ship is too awesome to take such a risk with. If I'm careful, winning is inevitable.'
She decided beforehand not to engage the first fighter, but to split-s toward the rear of a fighter on her right hand side. Success! Her crosshairs tagged him, delivered a quad turbo-laser burst into a TIE as her wing throttled down and jinked as a decoy for a pursuing TIE.
"I'll tag him, Rod two," she shouted, performing a flawless Immelmann, placing a shot into his solar port, where there had to be less shielding.
As per the rules, she was right. Her shot made the TIE to sluggish for low-level flight.
A mountain took it.
"Thanks, Rod leader," praised two.
"A pleasure, two."
"No loses, Sir, all bombers have returned," the very same middle-aged female tech reported once again.
This was good news, impossible news, a victory such as this was unheard of, but Traee had the magic formula.
"Standoff, smart projectiles gave you this victory, Moff Blister, and your forces just don't have many left, but, a whole new concept has been developed, and this has only partially been explored by the rebels," Traee lied.
'Actually, Rogue Squadron has been operating like this for years.'
The commando felt thankful to the force for finding a Moff as gullible as this Blister.
'Soon I'll find someone that can lead, and then I think we'll tame the wild space left around this galaxy.'
Their puny coalition hasn't consolidated the mass for that just yet.