Part 16: Days 314-366: One Year In: This War Will Never End.
: Commander, we have finally recovered the designs of my race's signature cruisers. Firepower of unparalleled magnintude is within our grasp!
: Nifty. How soon until we can get a fleet ready?
: Your own orders were to suspend shipbuilding until advanced shipyards were developed and deployed, Commander.
: ...shit. It's nice to have wonderful cruisers we can't have.
: Cancel every callgirl appointment Lando has scheduled. I want him focused on getting me advanced shipyards. We can't keep waiting on this.
: Hello Mon Mothma, glad you could spare a few moments to talk.
: To what do I owe this unfortunate pleasure, Commander Meteor?
: Well, I just wanted you to know I think we got off on the wrong foot.
: Oh really?
: Yeah, the first few months here I spent mostly strung out on peyote and whatever non-lethal chemicals I could distill from power conduits here. I'm afraid it probably clouded my judgement and discretions.
: Well, I'm am pleased to see you with renewed focus and dedication to the Alliance.
: Let's not go too far. I have only two priorities, dispensing sound tactical advice and getting paid. Not in that order, either.
: Is this the reason you called me?
: No, actually I was just kinda curious, I've been here almost a year but not really seen any politicking. What exactly is your role?
: I'm the Commander-in-Chief and Chief of State of the Rebel Alliance.
: Uh huh. And when were you elected for those positions?
: I was not.
: Gotcha. And when will the next elections be held?
: We currently do not intend to have any elections. These are extenuating-
: Dictatorship against dictatorship, eh? I love these kinds of fights.
: It is NOT like that, Commander Meteor, we embody the noble spirit of the Jed-
: It's okay, it's okay, I'm just in it for the paycheck. No need to waste spin on me. Listen, I have to go plan some strategy or something, so I'll talk to you later.
: You really are an asshole, Commander.
: Love you too! Bye bye!
: Goodness. You should be more polite to the leader of the Alliance.
: Advice noted. How's the casualty report we got in? Who got hit?
: It is Sir Vanden Willard.
: REALLY? AWESOME! Let me see that!
: So he's injured on Xyquine, surrounded by Imperial-controlled systems? And they probably have assassins, Star Destroyers, and all sorts of other nasty things, don't they?
: Yes sir, our spy reports detail massive fleet construction efforts on Duros.
: Oh this is all too excellent. Not only are all their construction efforts far away from my conquest of Sluis, but they're right next to that unkillable idiot!
: Aren't you being rather harsh on someone who has been of great benefit to our cause, Master Meteor?
: At the cost of my sanity? No! Not nearly harsh enough.
: This is win-win, regardless. He'll either be killed, or he'll do good things for us. I don't really care either way, I just enjoy him not talking at me right now.
: Doo hoo hoo! If I'm struck down I'll become more powerful than anyone could possibly imagine!
: If a spirit he becomes, kill myself I shall.
: Okay, it's clear they have a diplomat there in Sesswenna.
: That means every neutral system near Coruscant is of utmost importance.
: Get Borsk Fey'lya busy. We can't lose any more systems in that sector.
: Better. Get that sexual deviant into Bortras. The more systems we take near Coruscant, the better.
: Master Meteor, if you don't mind me asking, what is your goal there? We have no forces there, and your suspension of construction prevents development there.
: The mines and refineries. Bortras has three mines, four refineries.
: If we keep loading up on those, it'll make construction elsewhere faster.
: I see. And if the Imperials take those systems?
: If they launch a planetary assault, they'll lose popularity. Other systems might rebel. It's win-win.
: That is a sound strategy, Master Meteor.
: No shit. I thought of it.
: He called me a WHAT?
The hunters I'd sent out reported in.
Our spec ops had begun whittling away at the forces defending Sullust. When we'd knocked them out enough, we could chance bringing some ships loaded with the special forces above the world.
A strategy I'd implemented was a bringing a barge loaded with such warriors over the world, and then sending down mission after mission after mission. The Imperials would be impotent to stop a sustained offensive like that. It'd happen soon enough.
: Goddammit Borsk. WORK HARDER, you fursuit-wearing dipshit.
: Someone, please, show him how it's done.
: Like that. Thank you Mon Mothma.
: Burn in Hell, Commander.
: So...Sluis is shaping up nicely. Grab Deneb, and then they've got nowhere to hide.
: Things are going well, Master Meteor?
: I think so. It looks like we're close to finishing them off here.
: I'd always wanted a fast resolution to this war. More humane that way. I'm a peaceful kind of guy.
: Graaaah nyar bwuuuuhhhhh...
: Shut up, you.
: Good. Where is that?
: It's a low-priority system in the nearby Calaran sector.
: Admiral Drayson had been sent there to gather any developed worlds.
: Um, okay. Carry on I guess. Nothing important there?
: Not yet. A nearby world in that sector houses an advanced construction yard farm, and you've selected another system in the sector to be a site of a dozen advanced shipyards when available.
: So this world, Skor II, had nothing.
: Yes, Master Meteor. It's a habitat for millions of species of wildlife.
: Alright, you've convinced me. Strip-mine the planet. Grind it bare.
: As you wish.
: Another status report from Commander Narra, Master Meteor.
: Didn't we just see that one?
: This was a different mission against a different TIE.
: I wish all our troops were keeping so busy.
: Holy shit!
: Um, I wish for a trillion dollars.
: Master Meteor! There's been a breakthrough at Research and Development!
: Oh boy. What genetic abortion are you going to show me now? Ewok assault troops?
: Honestly I don't know why I get my hopes up anymore. So far we've taught shit piles and fish how to fight in the army.
: All I've ever wanted is Wookiees with guns, and every time I think we've figured it out, I get sucker-punched.
I swear I heard the tune of Georg Friedrich Handel's Hallelujah Chorus echoing jubilantly throughout the halls.
: If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.
: What? Unexpected? I asked for these guys a goddamn year ago! You lazy asshole!
: I wish I could just kill all of you.
: Wait, I have Wookiees with guns. Now I CAN!
: Actually Master Meteor, you'd issued a moratorium on troop-building efforts as well as ships.
: Son of a bitch.
: This is it. I've been here in charge of things for a year now.
: Over the last year I've seen a disparate band of idiots evolve into an a coordinated band of idiots.
: We've come a long way. Our research is on the cusp of paying off. We're probably a hundred days away from a dominating space fleet.
: I know I've not been the easiest leader to work under, and I appreciate your constant efforts. Even you, Crapflaps.
: And so, on this one-year anniversary since the Battle of Yavin, everyone gets the day off to celebrate.
: Master Meteor? This is a leap year. The one year mark is tomorrow.
: This is it. I've been in charge for a year now...