The Greatest Game, Episode I: The Model Society

[Rigel Bismarck]

It is an uncertain time for the galaxy. At the height of the Galactic Civil War, new weapons of mass destruction have been created. These new STARKILLER MISSILES have been acquired by both the Alliance of Free Planets and the Galactic Empire, allowing each faction the capacity to retaliate against even minor attacks with mass devastation.

Faced with the specter of mutual assured destruction, the two major factions brokered a hasty truce. As each side now struggles to come to grips with the new balance of power, leadership organizations across the galaxy convene meetings of their greatest minds to chart the best possible course into a new period of cold war. Galactic Empress MIRANDA TARKIN has sent messages throughout Imperial territory, calling together those she trusts to counsel her on her Empire’s path forward into this uneasy peace.

Despite the détente, smugglers, spies, and other travelers continue to cross the newly created Imperial/Alliance border. In the Doldur sector, these frequent breaches have prompted a response: under Admiral RIGEL BISMARCK, the Imperial Navy’s 111th battle group patrols the Imperial side of the line where it has just encountered its first catch of the day...




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“Freighter Dashing Silver, this is Captain Alan Volscanis of the Imperial Star Destroyer Scythe. You are in sovereign Imperial territory and have not come through a designated point-of-entry system or starbase. Acknowledge our hail and explain your presence or we will open fire on you.”

Given that the freighter in question had just been pulled from hyperspace by the gravity well projectors of the nearby Interdictor-Star Destroyer Refutation mere seconds before the hail, the lack of immediate response was unsurprising. When the silence had stretched long enough, Alan gestured to the tractor beam station. Within moments, the ship was wrapped up in a green glove of energy, completely immobilized and helpless.

Predictably, the comm squawked to life. "Okara Scythe, dechto Dashing Silver. Gwanta acht ene ochko usunta."

Aqualish. "Incorrect," Volscanis replied as he reviewed a datapad from the Astrogation officer. "You are more than several light years inside Imperial space and based on our computations, you intended to be here despite the moratorium on cross-border travel."

"Felsaksas ant girani costo."

"If you had been in hyperspace for a literal month, your hull would show a far higher concentration of ionic particulars." Volscanis was allowing his irritation to seep through. For intimidation purposes, of course. "Regardless, travel privileges between Imperial and Alliance territory have been suspended for much longer than that due to the recent truce. Now, given that this is not my first interdiction, I suggest you end these games and state the purpose of your trip into Imperial territory."

The hollow series of grunts that had been barely words shifted into an almost-Basic style of speech. "Not law! Re-lease!"

Volscanis swiveled his chair to eye the battle group command chair's current occupant, his eyebrow lifted. "Yes, I might as well," Rigel sighed, quickly saving the draft he'd been working on. This seemed like it would prove at least somewhat interesting, anyway. "Hello, traveler, this is Admiral Rigel Bismarck. As the ranking commander of this naval group and active member of the Imperial Admiralty, it is my duty and privilege to inform all who seek to cross the border between the Galactic Empire and the Alliance of Free Planets that free travel between our territories has been temporarily suspended as per mutual diplomatic agreement. As you crossed the border not only in general violation of Imperial transport protocol but also in specific violation of this moratorium, we have no choice but to take you and your ship into custody unless you can offer sufficient explanation to motivate an alternative treatment."

"Dis-agree! Re-quest advo-cate. Not speak un-til -"

"Oh come off it, traveler," Bismarck interrupted. "We're trying to be nice in the whole 'spirit of peace' thing, but you're severely testing the limits of that. Just tell us what you're doing out here."

There was a lengthy pause. "Ship-ping."

"Shipping what?"

"Biolog-ic car-go."

"Shipping what?"

"Car-go sensi-tive. Spoil fast."

Rigel clenched his teeth. "Shipping. What."

"Spice."

There it is.

"Spice is prohibited in Imperial territory under Galactic Code Section 35.7 B-" Volscanis was saying.

Rigel interrupted. "Traveler, what's your shipping destination?"

"An-do."

Rigel rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Were you planning on dispensing any of your cargo in Imperial territory?"

"... no?"

Mindful of the earlier interruption, Volscanis had toggled his comm to mute and was looking at Rigel. "Do you have something in mind, sir?"

Rigel toggled off his own comm. "The way I see it, Alan, if the free Alliance citizens want to use their freedom to freely poison their neighbors, I'd say that's hardly our concern. Have our traveler escorted to the border to make sure he keeps his word, but let him be on his way."

Alan offered a grim smile. "Yes, sir."

Rigel toggled his comm channel back open. "Traveler: good news. Under the authority granted to me by my rank and the privilege established under the special exception section of the Imperial Naval Charter, I've decided to allow you safe passage through our territory to your destination. Not that you have a choice right now, but you will hold position until one of our vessels has you in dock. Once docking is complete, you will be transported to the nearest Imperial border correlating to your intended destination and released."

"... I have grat-itude?"

"You're very welcome. Have a safe journey, enjoy your in-flight snacks. And traveler?"

"Yes?"

"Don't forget to tip your escorts."

Rigel closed his comm and looked to Alan, who had already finished issuing the appropriate orders. "I hope they choke on it," his first officer groused.

"Now, now, my good Captain," Rigel smiled. "The ones worthy of returning to Imperial protection will be the ones who resist such temptations. Think of it as a good test of the Aqualish moral character. Besides, I quite like the name of that ship. Dashing Silver waxes poetic for a freighter."

"I'm not sure Empress Tarkin would agree with your travel leniency." Alan briefly toggled the incoming message queue for review. "Speaking of, it looks like her Majesty has issued you a communique."

"I'm certain the Empress would approve of her subjects closely heeding to her temporary policy of noninterference in Alliance affairs," Rigel smiled, gesturing expansively at the bridge crew. He pulled the message into his own queue and accessed it. "Ah, it's time."

"Time?" Alan queried.

Rigel nodded at the message queue. "Her Majesty is convening the Admiralty to discuss the current state of affairs between the Empire and the Alliance. I'd say this is the perfect opportunity to make my move."

Rigel pushed his command view screen out enough to step from his chair. "Prepare an escort for my shuttle, Alan. The greatest game is about to begin."

[Miranda Tarkin]

Imperial Assembly Hall: Coruscant

Once the Galactic Senate had been dissolved by Emperor Palpatine, it had been converted into an opera hall - the last vestiges of imagined democracy gone of a time when the senate actually meant a true representation of the people. The will of the Emperor was the law. Upon ascending to Moff, Miranda pushed that the structure be used for its original purpose - to have the Grand Moffs and Moffs of the great Empire discuss matters of importance in one centralized location. Appointed aides would physically represent them and the governors would remote in for debates, discussions, and voting. It was a necessary united front to show the rebellion that the Empire was still alive and strong.

It also was the location that she announced (https://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?18725-Daughter-of-the-Empire-A-Rise-To-Power) her claim to the throne, backed by Inquisitor support. On this day she used the grand chamber to summon her Grand Moffs and Moffs, and selected military personnel to scrutinize a forced chapter of truce that her people had to endure.

Atop the podium erected in the middle of the chambers stood Miranda flanked by Imperial Guards and Knights. Blue eyes cast their gaze at the assembled, many arriving in person, only a few blue holographic images peppered the hundreds of holodiscs, pleasing her greatly.

With the gravity of the situation, Miranda wore the jet black tailored uniform that gave her an imposing visage - the flawless combination of her past as Moff and the supreme leader of the Empire - and began her address.

"Distinguished governors and admirals -today you have my gratitude that all of you are here."

She paused letting a hand hover over the consoles of the podium, allowing it to rise and stop center inside the grand dome. "Aggression's have ceased between us and those that fall under this new banner of a sham Alliance, but our war is not over. It must simply evolve."

Hands folded against each other behind Miranda's back as the hoverdisc slowly began to turn so that all had a chance to properly look upon their Empress. "How is the question that I extend to you."

[Rigel Bismarck]

Empress Tarkin's sentence hung over the assembled while her hoverplatform hung gently in the middle of the chamber. The proverbial centerpiece atop a display, Miranda stood as a black diamond, poised for maximum reflection of its own splendor. And yet, diamonds were also hardened, powerful, and unmoving in the face of outside forces. She was, to all the assembled, the ultimate paragon of the Empire and what it stood for.

As it should be, for an Empress.

Rigel gave a curt nod and the ensign next to him keyed the repulsors of their own hoverplatform. It rose from its dock among the lower sections of the hall to stand on its own; at a height of supplication relative to the Empress' own platform, yet above and apart from its brethren. When it stopped, Rigel stepped forward to the head of the platform and began his address.

"Your Imperial Majesty, I, Rigel Bismarck of the Imperial Naval Admiralty, stand before you as representative of those you have gathered here today. On behalf of the assembled governors, officers, representatives, and other honored guests of the Empire, I extend our combined greetings."

"Though the circumstances under which we convene are not immediately dire, the rise of the Rebel Alliance into a full governmental power nonetheless represents an existential threat to your Majesty's Empire. Despite the combined efforts of all Imperial military, political, and security forces, the Alliance retains the capability to deploy Starkiller missiles in response to any direct military action. Unfortunately, our intelligence resources have confirmed that production and further development of these weapons occurs across multiple disparate Alliance facilities. Some of these facilities' locations continue to elude us; data collected on the remainder has led us to conclude that the Empire cannot neutralize Alliance Starkiller capabilities through any feasible combination of military engagement and special forces operation."

Behind him, a holodisplay had displayed images relevant to Rigel's address: the symbol of the new Rebel government, an image of the technical readouts for the Empire's own Starkiller prototype, and a galactic map with known and suspected Alliance Starkiller production facilities highlighted. At this point, however, the image abruptly cut out and was not replaced. Rigel offered into that space the closest thing to an apology for its collective failure Miranda Tarkin would receive. "It is to our great regret that we must inform you no directly executable path to resolve this situation exists."

Rigel allowed the emptiness to soothe any nerves that might have been provoked by his sensitive-yet-necessary utterance before continuing. "Thankfully, Imperial operators procured sufficient technical readouts of the weapon to grant the Empire its own Starkiller production capabilities," he said, the image of the prototype Starkiller developed by Imperial Special Projects flickering into being behind him. "Thus, the Alliance cannot deploy its own Mass-Destruction Devices without risking equivalent reprisal. The truce brokered by your Majesty has prohibited the direct use of these devices in non-exceptional military conflicts against Alliance forces. Thus, Imperial and Alliance hostilities are under indefinite cessation thanks to these weapons."

"However, in rising as a separate government, the Rebels have taken on all the weaknesses and liabilities of a conventional power." At this point, an image of Count Dooku projected from the holodisplay, an image selected deliberately to invoke the political and economic engagements stemming from the Separatist conflicts of the Clone Wars. When Rigel continued, it was with a knowing satisfaction. "And if there is any enemy our Empire has experience handling, it is a conventional one."

"In the time bought by your Majesty's negotiations, Imperial leadership have selected several alternative strategies to direct military engagement for deployment against the Alliance. By your leave, I will present our primary strategies to you here today for your review and consideration."

Here, Rigel paused. Though Empress Tarkin's personal analysts had already received a text copy of Rigel's address along with an accompanying report going into more technical detail on the strategies he would put forth, neither the Empress nor her office had communicated any indication of whether it had received her blessing. If none of it had - and if the opening entreaty had not been presented just so to win enough favor - both Rigel's presentation and his life might end here.

[Miranda Tarkin]

"Then why the devil didn't you do that in the first place, Admiral?" barked Moff Sekirol of Barida, coloring his bloated cheeks further with the irritation. "Everyone in attendance is well versed in your unnecessarily stated outline."

Sekirol was a loud opponent of Tarkin since she became Moff, but even he admitted that the situation between the Empire and the Alliance would have created the same uneasy truce since no one wanted to blow their respective governments out of existence. Still he despised the woman and begrudgingly accepted his new sovereign's status. She was popular with the people, the only exception were the reckless Corellians that wanted complete independence, managing in aligning disgruntled and outright hostile politicians and military leaders that opposed her appointment by relaying strategy and ingenuity instead of strong-arming her way into forced respect with the might of Imperial Knights and Inquisitors. Her way was not brute force like her predecessor or grandfather and that took many by surprise. Miranda was shrewd, calculating and patient - well aware of her deficits.

She did not have a lot of experience prior to ascending as Empress, which infuriated the Moff to this day, but she surrounded herself with a cabinet of advisors so she could decide what was in the best interest of the Empire. Like now.

Miranda pursed her lips as she scanned the room, noticing a few nods of agreement that coincided with what she felt. Many of the governors and high ranking military leaders were not pleased by the current state of affairs - the cease fire was necessary and if not for the missiles at the Alliance's disposal, the Empire would wipe them out of existence and restore true order in the galaxy. Everyone's time was precious. Everyone was restless. They needed guidance.

"As crude as the Moff's opinion was on your thorough briefing," she shot Sekirol a look to silence and further outbursts, enjoying how the man huffed under her scrutiny, "we are eager to hear what proposals best serve our interests, Admiral Bismarck."

Her head lowered just so, nodding for the Admiral to continue with the presentation. Truth be told, she had personally poured over the reports and formulated an opinion on Rigel's strategy. But her opinion could be swayed depending on how it was received by the assembled ...

[Rigel Bismarck]

Despite the Moff's outburst, Rigel maintained a placid demeanor. He'd delivered enough strategic briefings to know that without key context, civilians tended to reject more sound strategies in favor of their own preferred solutions.

With his audience now primed and waiting, Rigel advanced his delivery - completely ignoring Sekirol, of course. "As you wish, your Majesty."

"Our recommendations fall within three different categories depending on their nature," Rigel continued, keying a trio of representative images to display. "Economic, political, and military."

One of the images - a red-colored blaster graphic - flickered and enlarged to draw the eyes of the assembled. "Within the military sphere, we are limited as no direct attacks may occur against Alliance forces unless they are inside Imperial borders. Diplomatic vessels are required to follow strict approach protocols and per our diplomatic policy any ship larger than 200 meters operating in Imperial territory without an Imperial escort forfeits the protection of the treaty. Thus, Alliance knavery in the vein of the Tantive IV Theft will be kept to a minimum."

"However, only vessels operating under official Imperial direction are bound by the treaty. Smugglers, pirate groups, mercenary companies, and even some of the newly freed independent systems operating on the Alliance border can be persuaded to work against their neighbors. That is, if the Empire makes it worth their while to do so."

Rigel tapped a button and the graphic shrunk back down. "Imperial military operations have a long history of supporting fringe groups and independent operators acting against our enemies with credits, hardware, and personnel where it makes sense to do so. It is a highly conventional strategy and thus highly appropriate against our new conventional enemy."

"Most such groups would tend not to act against a power the size of the Alliance. Many even have Alliance sympathies, especially since such operators tend to feel as though they were 'underdogs faced off against the galaxy at large'." Rigel paused after the theatrically delivered end of his prior sentence. "Claptrap, of course, but many a sentient has firmly clutched such delusions even unto their graves. What these groups need, what will motivate them to cast off their delusions of friendship more than anything else is simple."

"They will act when they see opportunity. And our next strategy will give it to them."

Here again, Rigel paused. This time, he did so not to prompt the Empress for a response, but merely to take a quick read of his audience.

[Miranda Tarkin]

Sekirol was leaning over the console, somehow managing to heft his bloated body up as if the Moff could launch himself off his platform to attack the Admiral. His face did not hide his irritation at the unnecessary exposition once again. What Bismarck was suggesting was allocating unnecessary resources to unsavory individuals whose loyalties could be bought.

A derisive snort came after the dramatic pause. He could not formulate any scenario that would assist in keeping paid independents happy with opportunities from one source. That wasn't how they made a living. They thrived on diverse means of income and if they were agreeable to a form of contracted work, their ability to fly freely between varying political systems could make them a target. The Alliance wouldn't be so bold to create discourse by boarding or denying passage through their territories without substantial proof, but they could make it difficult and expensive to travel if they perceived certain groups as threats.

Others were dubious but not as overly hostile as Sekirol. Others were waiting him to continue to see how this played out and the Admiral held their interest. And Miranda's. She was curious to hear how this scenario entice individuals to remain loyal to the Empire's cause and not be bought out by monetary gains if the Alliance opted to pay a higher incentive. Or worse, caught and proved they had loose lips under Alliance interrogation.