imperial center


Places in Skyrim - Solitude

Solitude is the center of Imperial power in Skyrim, and has traditionally had strong ties to the Empire. Many of the city’s Jarls were connected to the Septim bloodline. General Tullius commands the Imperial army from the stone-walled Castle Dour, while Solitude’s Jarl, Elisif, resides in the Blue Palace. Solitude is also a major shipping port and important Imperial supply line, which is run by the Imperial-financed East Empire Company.


Rogue One planets: Scarif

Scarif was a secluded and tropical planet in the Outer Rim Territories region of the galaxy. Despite its remoteness, it played an important part in the Galactic Empire’s military-industrial complex, becoming a center for Imperial top-secret military research. In this capacity, it housed a multitude of different projects, including the construction of the first Death Star battle station. Because of its importance, the planet was protected by an impenetrable deflector shield that enveloped the entire world, with the only opening being the Shield Gate.

tfw you want to be cool and draw your agent meeting everybody, but your agent is too grumpy for social interaction

(also Happy Birthday @trashmuh ! Let’s pretend that that’s Muhren’s bday they’re celebrating)


A short “Imperial Problem Child” moment, part of a series

1. Twenty-three
They’d picked him up on Lothal, where he’d been involved in relief efforts. No arrest this time, surprisingly. An officer had simply come to stand at his elbow, cough nervously, and murmur that his presence was required on the Executor.

“Take over for me, will you?” Luke had asked, clapping the man on the shoulder. “We’re setting up emergency clinics in the districts most effected by the fire, and I need some more hands to move the food to the refugee camp.”
The officer had looked utterly bewildered, but had begun directing stormtroopers to do as he’d said.

He was a little nervous on the shuttle. Vader hadn’t come to get him personally this time, and he couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. His father had been…distant, lately. Focused on the tenuous alliance between the Executor and the Rebellion, moving pieces into place for their coup – it felt dangerous to be even thinking about it. As such he’d been impatient lately, almost curt with Luke. 
Hopefully he wasn’t about to be scolded for wasting time.

When he arrived on the bridge of the super star destroyer, he found Vader staring out into the stars, contemplatively. He felt surprisingly peaceful, which was encouraging. Luke passed the Admiral and Ciena Ree, getting a sense of an oddly furtive attitude about them. He paused to glance at them oddly, then resumed walking, coming to stand just to Vader’s right.

“Luke,” the rumbling baritone made it sound almost like a question.

“Father,” Luke nodded and tried not to fidget as Vader turned to glance down at him.

“Son, come with me.” 
He gestured, and then left the bridge, with Luke trailing behind.

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radioactivepeasant  asked:

I saw some posts floating around the other day of Anakin Skywalker stuck in a Groundhog Day situation (which is how I learned what that movie is about, but that's another story) and I woke up this morning with the thought: "What if Luke woke up to find himself back reliving the Bespin confrontation over and over?"

Oh noooo! My poor baby! He tries so many things to make it work out better, but it keeps resetting on him, and he doesn’t know what to dooooo…

The first time it plays out much the same, because he doesn’t understand how this could be happening and thinks that maybe the whole thing was a dream or deja vu, but then it becomes clear that no, he’s definitely lived this before and how can this be happening?!

He wakes up again and this time leaves earlier, before the vision, just packs up and leaves and Yoda doesn’t understand why, Luke’s explanation doesn’t make a lot of sense, he’s babbling and very upset. Yoda can only conclude that Luke had some sort of dream that he’s acting on. He shows up early enough to stop Han from being frozen in carbonite, but Boba Fett still drags him off, and Luke still can’t defeat Vader.

He tries everything, but nothing works. He keeps waking up again on the same day. He even tries staying on Dagobah once, but he can feel Han and Leia’s pain in little flickers all day and it just keeps getting worse and he can’t stand it. He doesn’t try that again.

He’s getting better against Vader because he can anticipate his moves now. He knows what he’s going to do and say and when he’s going to do it and say it, but each time Luke changes something, the rest of the duel changes. He goes through about two weeks of days slowly changing one step of the duel at a time to try to nudge it towards a more favorable end, but it doesn’t seem to work and even though he’s been getting a lot more practice because of this, he’s still not good enough to defeat Vader. He ends up frozen a few times too.

He stops trying to change the outcome of the duel by means of fighting and starts focusing on trying to talk his way out of it. In desperation, one time he even opens by calling Vader “Father.” That startles Vader, certainly, but it isn’t enough.

He gives up on confronting Vader at all and instead focuses on freeing his friends. He successfully rescues Han from Fett a few times, and they all end up getting away together. The first time it happens, Luke is sure that this time, they’ll make it. This time he won’t wake up to the same day again. He’s wrong.

It finally stops when instead of going to fight Vader, he leaves his lightsaber behind and goes to talk. Just to talk. He walks into the carbon freeze chamber unarmed and calls Vader “Father” and begs him to come with him. He’s had a lot of time to think, to contemplate his father and what he’s been through and what he is. He comes to the conclusion that he ultimately reaches in ROTJ. His father is a slave, and Luke can save him. It takes a few tries before he figures out exactly what words to use and what topics to avoid, but he eventually convinces Vader. He refuses Vader’s offers to rule the Galaxy, but he does agree to help his father destroy the Emperor. He agrees to go with his father, because he’s not really afraid of the outcomes anymore. He’s figured out that this is definitely the Force trying to guide him down the best path, and if the outcome isn’t what it wants, the day will reset. So he takes his father’s hand and follows him up to his ship willingly (stopping by his X-wing to get Artoo and his lightsaber, because he’ll probably need that when he confronts the Emperor). A large part of him expects to wake up back on Dagobah like every time he’d ended up with Vader before, and he can’t help the mix of excitement and fear when he wakes up still in the large quarters next to his father’s on the Executor, en route to Imperial Center.

A more realistic and thoroughgoing Marxian approach to the question of imperialism in our age, drawing on the fundamental parameters of classical imperialism theory while taking into consideration changing historical conditions, needs to center on capital accumulation. Here the crucial fact is the shift of manufacturing industry in recent decades from the global North to the global South. In 1980 the share of world industrial employment of developing countries had risen to 52 percent; by 2012 this had increased to 83 percent. […] What needs to be explained, however, is that despite this tectonic shift of industry to the periphery, the basic conditions of center and periphery continue in most cases to hold. This is manifested in the seeming inability of countries in the global South, taken as a whole—and leaving out Greater China (including Hong Kong, Macao, and Taiwan Province)—to catch up economically with the nations at the center of the system.


Economically, the outward movement of generalized-monopoly capitalism is propelled primarily by the competitive struggle for low cost position via global sourcing of labor and increasingly scarce raw materials, and the monopoly rents that all of this generates. The result, as we have seen, is enormous cost savings in production for individual monopolistic enterprises, generating widening profit margins, which, coupled with more traditional forms of tribute, leads to a continual inflow of imperial rent to the center of the system. The full extent of extracted surplus is disguised by the enormous complexity of global value chains, exchange ratios, hidden accounts, and above all by the nature of capitalist GDP accounting itself.


The phase of global monopoly-finance capital, tied to the globalization of production and the systematization of imperial rent, has generated a financial oligarchy and a return to dynastic wealth, mostly in the core nations, confronting an increasingly generalized (but also highly segmented) working class worldwide. The leading section of the capitalist class in the core countries now consists of what could be called global rentiers, dependent on the growth of global monopoly-finance capital, and its increasing concentration and centralization. The reproduction of this new imperialist system, as Amin explains in Capitalism in the Age of Globalization, rests on the perpetuation of five monopolies: (1) technological monopoly; (2) financial control of worldwide markets; (3) monopolistic access to the planet’s natural resources; (4) media and communication monopolies; and (5) monopolies over weapons of mass destruction. Behind all of this lie the giant monopolistic firms themselves, with the revenue of the top 500 global private firms currently equal to about 30 percent of world revenue, funneled primarily through the centers of the capitalist system and the core financial markets. As Boron points out with respect to the world’s 200 largest multinational corporations, “96 percent…have their headquarters in only eight countries, are legally registered as incorporated companies of eight countries; and their boards of directors sit in eight countries of metropolitan capital. Less than 2 percent of their boards of directors’ members are non-nationals…. Their reach is global, but their property and their owners have a clear national base.”


The responsibility of the left under these circumstances is to confront, in Lenin’s terms, the “contradictions, conflicts, and convulsions—not only economical, but also political, national, etc.”—that increasingly characterize our era. This means fostering a more “audacious” global movement from below in which the key challenge will be the dismantling of imperialism, understood as the entire basis of capitalism in our time—with the object of creating a more horizontal, egalitarian, peaceful, and sustainable social-metabolic order controlled by the associated producers.

John Bellamy Foster, “The New Imperialism of Globalized Monopoly-Finance Capital” (2015)

star wars challenge: favorite planet - coruscant

Coruscant, also known as Imperial Center and Imperial City during the reign of the Galactic Empire, was a planet that served as the galactic capital and seat of government of the Galactic Republic and the Galactic Empire.

anonymous asked:

Happy thing for Imperial Problem Child-verse. Luke and the Rogues manage to find out from the Vode (roughly) when Anakin's birthday is. Cue a joint mission between the Rogues, the Vode, and some very bemused Imperials to surprise Vader with a bunch of birthday presents. (No, not you, Luke. We're supposed to head to Imperial Center next and no one wants you that close to the Emperor.)


He’s on his way to meditate in the hyperbaric chamber when the first transmission arrives.
“From the Carriers, sir,” says the officer, straight-faced as he indicates Luke’s messengers’ inadvertent code name. “It’s labeled as being for your eyes only, sir.”

He waits until he’s in his chambers and activates the message. It’s Antilles – not that he would admit to knowing each Rogue by name now – with the expression that usually means that Luke has done something foolish again. Slightly concerned, he hits “play”.
Right, so this is going to be awkward no matter how we slice it, but you mean a lot to our Commander – even if he hasn’t quite figured out how to tell you that yet – and you did pull our butts out of the fire a few times, so here we go! Er…we’re sending you some things. Not coordinates, what do we look like, traitors? Just…things. Because it’s your birthday. Bye!”

Attached to the message is a small data chip. It’s a little scorched and battered, as though it has been through a fire. At first, it won’t play at all, but there are few mechanics who can out-do the man formerly known as Anakin Skywalker, and it only takes him an hour to restore it. He sets it into a control panel and projects its contents onto a screen.

They’re pictures. One is Cliegg Lars and – he stops and the screen is blurry for an instant – it’s his mother’s wedding day. She’s wearing a stone on a bit of twine around her wrist: a “bracelet” he made for her when he was six.
Hurriedly, he skips to another picture. He recognizes the couple as Owen and Beru, looking only a little older than the one and only time he met them. Between them is a tiny, round infant with wide and very confused blue eyes.


They’re all of Luke, after that first one. He makes several copies of each, just in case, determined not to lose these.

The second message comes when they’re halfway to Imperial Center. He recognizes the frequency, it’s the old comm channel he and the original 501st used during the Clone Wars. It opens into a hologram of thirty grizzled clones in armor with fierce grins and – oh dear. Was that Lando Calrissian and Princess Leia in armor with them? That was probably a bad sign. 
Hey General,” Rex says, ignoring Appo’s scandalized whisper that General is not his proper rank anymore, “You got enough on your plate today. Me and the boys are paying a little visit to a little “friend” of yours.”
He means we’re going to blow up that slimeball Xizor’s skyhook,” Leia translates archly, “You’re welcome, by the way.”

They’re in orbit over Imperial Center and he’s headed for his shuttle when he notices activity near his private hangar. Suspicious, he changes course and senses several nervous stormtroopers scurrying away as quickly as they can. He enters his hangar and discovers that nothing of his has been touched – he didn’t really expect anything different: the soldiers don’t have death-wishes after all – but there are two crates near his TIE Advanced that weren’t there before. Inside he finds several modifications for both the TIE and the shuttle that were supposed to go to one of Moff Jerjerrod’s construction projects.

“Really, sir?” asks the Admiral with his patented look of wide-eyed innocence when confronted with his signature on the shipping forms, “My goodness, there must have been a terrible mistake at the depot. They really must see about hiring more competent people. Poor Jerjerrod, he’ll be so disappointed.”

“Indeed,” answers Vader in a very skeptical tone, but he leaves it at that. He’s due on the surface anyway.

The meeting with the Emperor goes…poorly. As they do even in the best of times. He is weary and in pain when he finally returns to the Executor, and he shuts himself in his chambers with strict orders that he is not to be disturbed.
There is one message waiting for him.
He’s not sure he wants to check it this close to the Emperor, so he waits until they are in hyperspace.

It’s a small, private holo-recording of his son, looking supremely bashful and sitting in a non-descript room somewhere.
Hello, Father,” he says shyly, and already Vader’s mood is improving, “Um…I don’t know when this message will get to you, but you’ve probably figured out what we’re up to by now. Don’t be mad at Rex, okay? I made him tell me. It’s…it’s kind of a big thing, you know. Birthdays. I mean, I get why you probably didn’t want to remember yours before but…”

He trails off and looks directly at Vader. “But we’re a family now. Kind of. A weird one, but a family. So I want to know these things. It’s…important to me.” There’s a hint of faint voices from Luke’s end of the recording, and muffled crashes. Luke’s hand covers the projector a moment, then he peeks between the fingers.

Ah, no. We have incoming and it’s not your guys. I gotta go!” Then, all in a rush, “HappybirthdayFatherIloveyou!” 

Vader replays that part of the recording seven times, end to end.
The Truth Concerning Han Solo, a star wars fanfic | FanFiction

I have an hour left of scoundressaturday in my time zone! So here we have a little story where Han is captured and given a truth serum. Even I was surprised by what came out of his mouth! Set in the EU. Many thanks to @jainadurron, the Grand Master of the EU for her help!


“Looking for something?” a voice said from behind him. “Or someone?”

Han stood up. He’d been running, then crouching behind the canister, looking for Leia. He took a frustrated breath and slowly turned around.

“Yeah, I’m lookin’ for the ‘fresher. Guess you must be the garbage boy?” He collapsed as a gun whacked against his skull.

Han awoke, disoriented and confused. His memory came flooding back as the man who had captured him knelt down on the floor beside him.

“Well, good afternoon, Captain Solo. How are you feeling this fine day?”

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I want an intricate Prince Adam back story

I’m in love with what we already got as of his past life but I want to know more. I want it to begin before his mother’s death and how his father treated him and his mother, then have it progress to her death and then to how it caused Adam’s downfall. I would love to see his personality slowly progress into the imperious, arrogant, self-centered Adam that we saw at the beginning of Beauty and The Beast. It would be great to be able to see exactly why he became that way. Another thing that I’m curious about is his daily life. I would like to see what Adam did (build on his personality, quirks, etc). I think that if an entire back story were to happen, it could lead up to the night he was cursed, but show the whole night (or even before; think of things like him preparing for the party, him getting ready, dancing, talking to the guests and women surrounding him, since he seemed to be a flirt). Then, after he becomes cursed, it could show the after math. The fear that the people at the party felt (them fleeing for their lives), the fear and embarrassment he felt (I feel as if he would have tried to have stopped people from running, not being fully aware of everything just yet), the realization that he faced. I want to see Prince Adam realize what was happening and the pure horror it must have been for him to not only experience something so horrible, but for others to see him like that (this leads back to his conceded trait, everyone would see a handsome, confident prince be ruined and absolutely humiliated). I also think that they could build on how he was the following days, weeks, and months. I want questions answered, such as: when did he stop calling himself Adam and start calling himself “The Beast”? When did his people begin to call him “The Beast”? When did everything sink in for him? Did he ever attempt to leave to castle only to realize he could never be seen by anyone? How did people who were also cursed react? How did they treat him? Was he ever in denial? The night he was cursed, did he even sleep? Or did he cry himself to sleep? They could also pronounce how his personality changed after that. The way he began to down himself.
In conclusion, I believe that there could be so much more to Adam and I also believe that a movie with his back story needs to happen.

anonymous asked:

But can u just imagine young/baby Luke raised by Dad!Vader and all the adventures he'd have as a young child, like he's end up countless times in the engine room of the star destroyers for no apparent reason, and he'd love wandering around the Imperial Center, and make quite a mess a lot of times and people would just look at Vader, and our poor Sith Dad would just sigh and be like "not a word. From any of you."

Oh goodness. He would have so many uncles, because people like Piett and Veers would just kind of adopt him, plus babysitting duties.

I think Luke would get a bit more free rein on the Star Destroyers than Imperial Center, because Imp Center is a haven of bad things. Vader would absolutely freak out if he ever discovered that Luke had been wandering around there on his own. That would be Very Bad.

Child Luke would probably be a handful, and Vader would probably have about five heart attacks a day. (But he wouldn’t trade it for the Galaxy.)

anonymous asked:

Imperial Problem Child-verse. Having read your story about Luke's two days in the Executor's brig, I'm hoping the whole "Luke has to smuggle Rogue Squadron off of the Executor" goes better for the Luke and Vader.

In theory, it should have gone much worse. By rights, Luke should’ve gotten angry again (that was probably what the Emperor was hoping for, actually). But there were a few things Palpatine didn’t count on:

The Rogues had actually made themselves rather useful in a roundabout way. They protected Luke and he protected them and there was really no separating them. But also when Vader wanted a rival or incompetent official removed, it was startlingly easy to get the Rogues to loan a few Alliance-issue flightsuits to members of the Sabers or Black Squadron and add a few extra pilots to the Rogue Squadron for a day or two.

Keeping up with the Kids kept Vader so busy that he hadn’t had time to sink into apathy very far, and long, pointed conversations with Luke only made it more obvious day by day how deeply Palpatine had betrayed him. Whether he even noticed or not, the dark side’s hold on him was getting shakier the closer he got to his son (and, yes, his son’s friends, too)

If he was to have any hope of killing the Emperor, Vader would need both allies he could trust and an established power base. Alienating Luke would shatter that base. (Palpatine probably knew that too, or at least thought it would discourage any attempts to form a power base)

Therefore: it is not in the better interests of either of the Skywalker men to carry out the Emperor’s “suggestion”.
But Vader can’t let it look like he’s going to outright defy him.

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Pirates and Corsairs from the point of view of the Ottomans

Excerpt from Joshua Michael White’s Catch and Release: Piracy, Slavery, and Law in the Early Modern Ottoman Mediterranean, University of Michigan, 2012. A very interesting book, and relatively accessible despite the thorny subject. I’d also suggest it to anyone interested in Barbary pirates (blow high! blow low! and so sail we!), because it’s a very complex and nuanced situation, and doesn’t deserve the black and white narrative it got. (Hardly surprising, considering that until recently, almost all research on the subject managed to completely ignore Ottoman sources.)

A Pirate By Any Other Name: The Ottoman Vocabulary of Maritime Raiding

[The Ottoman bureaucrat, poet, and historian] Mustafa Ali introduced the connection between the two opposing legal poles of Mediterranean maritime raiding—piracy and corsairing—and the two words most frequently associated with the practitioners of both—levend and korsan. These terms are those used most frequently in Ottoman Turkish to denote pirates, naval irregulars, and corsairs. The question of what separated pirates from privateers is not easily unraveled, however, for they were very much opposite sides of the same coin. A corsair is understood to be the particularly Mediterranean label for a privateer, one who engages in maritime raiding in the context of war (in this instance, holy war) and with the authorization of a sovereign entity. The corsair or privateer wages public war, privately. In contrast, to those “individuals who despoil others through privately exercised force and without urgent reasons to do,” the Dutch jurist Hugo Grotius wrote in 1605, “we give the name ‘pirates’ when their activities take place upon the sea.” Grotius’ definition of the pirate will serve us well here. However, even he seemed unsure where to place the raiders of North Africa or, for that matter, those of Malta, who on the one hand could be considered to be operating on behalf of a sovereign entity—that is Algiers, Tunis, or Tripoli, which could all be treated as independent states—in which case they were privateers, or not, given Ottoman sovereignty there, in which case they were pirates.

If the North African corsairs were indeed privateers from the perspective of Tunis or Algiers, they were not necessarily seen as engaging in lawful war in Istanbul when they targeted the sultan’s own subjects or those of states with which he had made peace. In that vein, Mustafa Ali admonished his readers in a verse to “think of jihad as an island: on its right is a sea of wealth, on the left is corruption.” The line between legal and illegal raiding was thin indeed. The right claimed by corsairing entities to raid and enslave any and all adherents of the enemy faith collided with political and legal realities that identified people by their subjecthood as well as confession and extended special protections to some. In such instances where Ottoman law was breached, the Ottoman central administration would still refer to the raiders as korsan or levend, but often in conjunction with epithets like rebel, criminal, and thief.

The meaning of the word levend is somewhat ambiguous and varied according to context. It could denote officially recognized Ottoman corsairs, independent freebooters with no ties to the state, or naval auxiliaries more generally. […] The word was used for auxiliary forces on land as well, though by the second half of the sixteenth century it had also acquired the meaning of “bandit” due to the fact that numerous demobilized infantrymen turned to this activity to support themselves. […] The Turkish words korsan and korsanlık, derived from the Arabic kursan which in turn was derived from the Italian corsaro, carry the meaning of “pirate” and “piracy” respectively in modern Turkish. In the early modern period, however, as some scholars have pointed out, they would be more accurately rendered as “corsair/privateer” and “corsairing/privateering.” Both Ottoman and foreign (Christian) maritime raiders, including those from North Africa and Malta, could be called korsan, whereas non-Ottoman corsairs/pirates were almost never called levend.

The inconsistency and ambiguity of Ottoman usage was somewhat mitigated in administrative documents by the occasional use of various modifiers and word collocations that help to clarify Ottoman views of such actors or their methods. […] Some of these, like harami levend (robber levend) and levend eşkiyası (bandit/outlaw or rebel levend) can be quite clearly interpreted to mean pirate—one whose actions were considered criminal by the state—though in some instances they might indicate auxiliaries gone rogue. In the Ottomans’ treaties with the Venetians, early references to pirates were to “robber ships” (harami gemisi) and only later in the sixteenth century did the texts begin replacing the sea-robber appellation with levend and korsan.

However, the usage of korsanlık to mean exclusively corsairing or privateering as we might understand these terms, with all their religious and statist connotations, was in fact not consistent over time and space. In the seventeenth century, even small-scale raids by Greek Christian pirates on their co-religionists in the Aegean, committed without state authorization or the cover of religious justification—that is to say, acts of piracy in the most basic sense—were sometimes characterized as korsanlık by Ottoman scribes. Thus, the semantic distinction between simple piracy and corsairing that some scholars insist upon was not quite as firm in the seventeenth century as has been portrayed. For our part, we are most concerned with acts of maritime raiding that the Ottoman center (and its European treaty-partners) considered unacceptable or illegal, and so referring to these as acts of piracy is a necessary concession for coherence.

How the practitioners of maritime raiding conceived of their activities, what justifications they employed, and how they selected their victims are questions that are worth asking. However, they are questions that are ultimately of less importance when considering an Ottoman administrative and legal response that was concerned with the subjecthood and confession of the raiders but otherwise made little distinction between them whenever the targets they chose ran counter to the Ottoman central government’s wishes. Besides, a significant number of those we might call pirates were not engaged in predatory raiding full-time, but did so whenever it was convenient and profitable. This was certainly the case for the English sailing ships that began to appear in the Mediterranean in ever greater numbers after 1580 and which, even when laden with cargo for legitimate trade, often raided indiscriminately. In 1599, for example, the vessel carrying England’s new ambassador to the Sublime Porte, Henry Lello, and the accession gift for Sultan Mehmed III tarried repeatedly in its journey across the Mediterranean to take prizes, including some belonging to Ottoman subjects. Beyond the English, many others alternated between raid and trade with alacrity. For us, then, the question is not so much who is a pirate, or what is a pirate, but when is a pirate? That is, at what point did maritime raiding become illegal, and what was to be done about it?

Unlike privateering, piracy is by definition unlawful. Pirates were the “common enemies of all,” a designation originating in ancient Rome and current in early modern Europe, one which the Ottomans by and large shared and espoused in their treaties with Venice and others. The jurisdiction to punish pirates extended to all. Modern linguistic conventions do not map well onto Ottoman usage, but we must take care not confuse popular notions of holy war with Ottoman conceptions of legitimate and illegitimate sea robbery, which could be and often were practiced by the same individuals and groups—the cessation of conflict often transforming privateers into pirates for continuing to do what they had been doing all along. This was certainly true for the Ottomans vis-à-vis Venice after 1573 and for the English vis-à-vis Spain after 1604. Thus, what remained guerre de course or korsanlik on the local level—or “customary raiding,” as sea raiders from Herceg Novi on the Adriatic would claim in 1627 after a peacetime attack on nearby Venetians—was to the Ottoman imperial center a criminal act. It was, in essence, piracy, even if we might hesitate to anachronistically apply the label pirate to those the Ottomans called “rebels” and “thieves” when they attacked Ottoman subjects or those of their allies. The tendency of outsiders like the English to call all Mediterranean sea robbers pirates when their Venetian victims called them “corsari” and the Ottomans “korsanlar” or “levendler” should not obscure the more important, less semantic, differentiation between legal and illegal acts of maritime violence.

All this took place in a context in which the practitioners of maritime violence increasingly operated outside the boundaries of declared war and beyond the control of the states that had once closely patronized their kind. That they were joined in the late sixteenth and seventeenth centuries by a plethora of local and long-distance actors of murky origins and no discernible agenda besides their own financial betterment only complicated matters. While we must recognize that the corsairs of Malta and Barbary were not the exactly the same creatures as the Corsican pirate captain cruising the Aegean or the Ottoman Muslim amphibious bandit prowling the Adriatic coast, they were all part of the broader pattern of maritime violence that arose in this period, profoundly connected by method, result, and response. The rise of violence perpetrated by uncontrollable non-state or quasi-state actors demanded that administrators, diplomats, and jurists tighten the legal net to include those who served the state’s interests and exclude those who violated them. Braudel observed that “privateering,” by which he meant the Mediterranean corso, “often had little to do with either country or faith, but was merely a means of making a living.” This fact certainly accounts for the extraordinary mobility of seamen across religious and political boundaries, adopting and shedding allegiances when it served their interests. Maritime work was a trade, after all, and sailors and captains were first and foremost tradesmen who sought work where it as available and profitable, including in North Africa.

The influx of English seamen to North Africa following the conclusion of England’s long conflict with Spain in 1604 provides ample evidence for this. In any event, the line between trade and raid—really just another form of trade—was not especially rigid, nor were the religious fault lines that were meant to determine the selection of victims. All this meant that it was the task of Ottoman authorities on land to better define what was and was not acceptable at sea, when, and why. The question of pirate vs. corsair ends up being one of perspective to some extent, but without taking into account self-perception, we may profitably refer to any targeted raid deemed unacceptable by the Ottoman sultan to be an act of piracy. Thus, the levend captain with an official commission who nevertheless conducted unauthorized raids on Ottoman subjects or the ships of Ottoman treaty-partners and whose actions met with official disapproval would be, in this instance, a pirate.

The primary, theoretical distinction between the Mediterranean corsair as opposed to the Atlantic privateer or the true pirate was the religious dimension to their targeting. That is, even if their attacks were unauthorized, Muslim corsairs were supposed to plunder and enslave Christians and vice versa, whereas the privateer attacked the ships of the sovereign(s) specified in his letter of marque and the pirate was indiscriminate in selecting his prey. Yet the gulf between theory and practice was vast and the continuum of maritime violence contained no lack of raiders exceeding their charge. The Muslim korsans and levends of the North African, Adriatic and Ionian coasts and the corsari of Malta and Livorno routinely despoiled their co-religionists. What they did not regularly do, however, was enslave them.

[@we-are-pirate , @we-are-captain, perhaps @we-are-lawyer]


For Rebelcaptain week, Day 5

read it on ao3

Slightly angsty, but it ends happy :-)

Words: 790

Rated: G


It was all she could think of, all she permitted herself to think of. If she let herself think of anything else, then it was too easy for the darkness to pull her under. She had to think of home. She had to think of him.

She didn’t know how they had found her again, she thought she had been careful, she thought the Rebellion had erased Liana Hallik. But on that outer rim planet, on a routine scouting mission, she had been separated from the rest of the team, and stormtroopers had grabbed her. They had a holoimage of her, but not her, she tried to explain they had old information, but they didn’t care, took her anyway.

She woke up in a Wobani prison camp.

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The Lucky One - Part 1/?// A Kyungsoo Star Wars! AU

Originally posted by dohkyeongsoo

Summary: You’re a commander in the Alliance and one of the most wanted people by the Empire, and you and your second in command (Kai) get captured while on the way back to the base after a mission. Kyungsoo, formally known as Captain Do, is one of the best pilots in the galaxy who is tasked to rescuing you with his droid PC-Y, without having any knowledge of who you really are.

Genre: Star Wars!AU Sort of Mature Themes

Author’s Note: After seeing the teaser with Soo wearing the goggles on his head, I immediate thought he looked like a pilot for the rebels. So here it is, a (hopefully) short series of Kyungsoo as a hot rebel pilot. Enjoy!

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I can’t say thank you enough to the amazing @rxbxlcaptain who edited this for me.  Her work is wonderful and she’s the sweetest person ever, so go check her out!

The distress call finished its transmission just as the doors to their ship were forced open with a burst of sparks.  Jyn brought down three Stormtroopers before they could even finish getting the doors open, but in a moment the small cabin was flooded with ‘troopers and Cassian held up his had to Jyn.  His face was still and serious but Jyn could see the fear behind his eyes.  They had remained locked with hers as they both slowly lowered their weapons to the ground.

“Keep moving,” a ‘trooper snaps at Jyn as she stumbles over the grated floor.  Next to her Cassian’s eyes flick to her face, his hands chained, like hers, in front of him, as they continue their march towards the base’s detention center.

The Imperial ship locked onto them just as they were leaving Nakadia.  The mission had been compromised when one of Cassian’s contacts turned them in.  While the two of them managed to blast their way out of the city their ship had been captured and boarded before they could do anything but send one last encoded message to the Rebellion, warning of their immanent capture.  

The Imperial base they have been brought to is relatively small – likely an outpost on one of Nakadia’s moons, the nearest permanent Imperial presence in the system – and the detention center, therefore, is much smaller than other prisons Jyn has had experience with.  Their escorts are kind enough to free their hands before Cassian and Jyn are unceremoniously tossed into a cell.  The door is shut behind them with a clang of metal hitting metal and then they are alone.

Jyn doesn’t actually believe banging on the door and yelling to be let out would really work.  But she does it anyway, throwing her frustration and fear – as well as her fists – at the metal along with as many curse words as she can think of in as many languages as she knows.  Swear words had been the first Festian phrases she had picked up from Cassian, followed closely by her favorite term – mi amor - and she is sure Princess Leia would be proud when the term ‘nurf-herder’ crosses her lips.  Only after her hands are bruised and her voice is hoarse does she turn back to Cassian.

He sits quietly on the single built in bench – the only distinction in the small, blank room – his head bowed, his hands resting in his lap.  Kneeling in front of him Jyn can see that his eyes are far away, staring seemingly at nothing, but from the way his hands – still covered in dried blood – shake Jyn knows what he is seeing.

They had been inside a contacts house when the Empire caught up with them.  The woman – Addah - had been passing information to the Alliance for a few years, and while Cassian had met with her several times before, it was Jyn’s first time on Nakadia.  When Jyn asked Addah why she chose to help the Rebellion she had smiled proudly and told them of her eight year old son who lived with his father but who, she said, would live in the better world his mother helped to create.  When the Stormtroopers came and turned their blasters on her Cassian held Addah as she died.  The ‘troopers had ripped him away from her before her dying pleas to see her son one last time were cold on her lips.      

Jyn slips her hands into his, squeezing them gently to bring his eyes back to hers.  They focus on her face after a moment and Jyn is sure he can read the pain and sorrow in her eyes.  She hadn’t known the woman, but Cassian had, and even in their few minutes together Jyn had seen her kindness and strength.  

“I’m sorry, Cassian,” Jyn whispers, the inadequacy of her words stinging her.  And yet what more could she say?

When he speaks, Cassian’s voice is devoid of feeling.  “She trusted me.”  She trusted me and I let her down.

“This wasn’t your fault, Cassian.  You couldn’t have known.  No one could have.  You can’t blame yourself.”  He can and Jyn knows he will, but the pain in his eyes is hers just as much as it is his.  Jyn wishes she could kill every person who had ever caused such pain to appear in Cassian’s beautiful eyes.

She leans up and presses a kiss to his scratchy cheek, then slides onto the bench next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.  His shirt is covered in blood but knowing it’s not his stops her from franticly searching him for injuries.  As it is all she can do is rub small circles into his back and murmur the occasional comforting word.   

They sit for a while in the quiet of the cell, drawing comfort from each other’s presence.  Finally Cassian pulls in a breath and Jyn looks up at him.

“They’re going to search us,” he whispers, his focus flicks back to his long fingers intertwined with hers.  Jyn knows where his thoughts have gone and hers stray there, too, to the small blue pill sewing into the lining of their sleeves, promising a painless death in five seconds.  He is telling her this might be their last chance to take them.  She knows had she not been there with him, he would have taken his already.

“We’re going to get out, with or without the Alliance’s help,” she tells him, more confidence in her voice than in her heart.  “We’ll make it, Cassian.  You and I.  Together.”  They hadn’t taken the lullaby pills when their ship had been caught in the tractor beam, they hadn’t taken them when the Stormtroopers broke through their blast doors, and they weren’t going to take them now.  

Jyn knew she would die someday, but she hadn’t survived Jedha and Scarif and the innumerable life threatening missions since just to take a pill at the first sight of the Empire.  “We’re going to keep fighting, Cassian.  For the Alliance and for Addah.”  And for you.

Cassian’s fingers tighten around hers.  “You and I.  Together,” he repeats, his accent coloring her words.  He captures her cheek in his hand and kisses her.  She can taste his sorrow and his hope on his lips.

They would have done more, would have said more.  Would have planned their escape together if they had been given the time.  But as they break apart the door slides open and then there are blasters in their faces and firm commands that squeeze Jyn’s heart.

“Take him.  Leave the girl.”


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