Mace Windu leaned forward in his chair as a member of the Jedi High Council, resting his elbows on his knees, loosely clasping his fingers together.
"Master Yoda, are you sure?" His voice came out hoarse. And his tone... even worse.
"Do you think I've already lost my mind, old friend?" the small master chuckled. "No, it is exactly as I told you. Palpatine demands that Dougan be removed from the Council."
"But he pushed his candidacy so persistently," murmured Obi-Wan's hologram. "And now..."
"Now he makes it unequivocally clear that his representative on the Council should be young Skywalker," the aged master noted with sadness in his voice.
"Unheard of," said Plo Koon's hologram.
"Grand Master, you should never have agreed to his previous demand," Kit Fisto shook his head. "First he subjugated us, then he pushed Dougan onto the Council, whose reputation is... to put it mildly, tarnished, then he literally extorted enormous funds from the Order through blackmail... And now – this."
"I absolutely do not understand Palpatine's logic," Kenobi shared his concerns. "Of course, these could just be guesses or coincidences, but... He invested Dougan with such enormous power and now, literally kicking him, forces him back."
"The Chancellor motivated his decision by saying he asked for Master Dougan to be appointed to the Council back when he could actually participate in these meetings," said Yoda. "Now... The Chancellor didn't say this directly, but I got the impression that he doesn't believe Rick will survive this siege."
"Something is not right here," Windu said confidently. "I sense the Dark Side of the Force is involved in this. It literally surrounds the Chancellor..."
"But he passed the midi-chlorian test," the Nautolan reminded. "And his levels are no higher than average. Doesn't that prove he can't be a Sith?"
"And can that disprove the hypothesis that a Sith is in his inner circle and influencing the Supreme Chancellor?" asked Plo Koon.
"In that case, we should continue working in this direction," Windu declared decisively. "Master Fisto, I think you should take a few padawans and equipment and go to the Senate to work directly there."
"I will certainly carry out the order," the Nautolan nodded, "but why this particular approach? With the Chancellor, we acted much more diplomatically – he himself sent us his blood sample and..."
"The Chancellor and the senators are different magnitudes," said Windu. "I will try to meet with Palpatine next week and persuade him to give our initiative a legislative level."
"So, should we expect a new wave of hysteria about how the Jedi are busy with anything but waging war?" Obi-Wan joked.
"We cannot escape these accusations," Yoda sighed. "Until this war ends with our victory."
A oppressive silence fell over the Council chambers.
"The longer this war lasts," the Korun ventured to break the silence first, "the less confident I am that it will end that way."
"We must apply all our efforts to that end," Yoda frowned. Looking at the empty seats on the Council, he said sadly, "It will cost many lives..."
"Master Yoda," Plo Koon addressed the latter. "Is the death of Master Ki-Adi-Mundi reliably confirmed?"
"It is," the grand master's head drooped slightly. "Unfortunately, very much so."
"This is all sad," Plo Koon sighed. "Since the start of the war, we have lost a good part of the Council – the best of the Jedi. Coleman Trebor. Agen Kolar. Saesee Tiin. Eeth Koth... Even though he was formally no longer a Council member, still..."
"And now Master Mundi has become a victim of this war," Kit Fisto added sadly.
"You forget that Luminara Unduli, Shaak Ti, Adi Gallia, Even Piell, Stass Allie, and Master Dougan are also effectively cut off from us," noted Kenobi. Then, barely audibly, he added, "At least they're still alive..."
"That's true," Fisto agreed. "If any one of them died, the 'Shadowfeed' wouldn't be silent for an instant."
"And yet," Oppo Rancisis, who had remained silent until now, reminded them, "a seat on the Council is once again vacant."
"Custom does not allow us to make such a decision without the participation of all members of the High Council," Obi-Wan tried to resist the obvious. Mace smirked discreetly. And how many times had they already broken these customs? First – they brought a thirteenth Jedi onto the council. Without making him a master. And he received the rank of master... not quite properly. Then, the complications with appointing Stass Allie to the Council. Meetings without Dougan's participation...
How many Jedi precepts had already been broken. And how many more would have to be broken... Dark times had come for the Jedi.
"And yet, we should fill it with someone," Plo Koon objected meaningfully.
"The Chancellor quite unambiguously hinted at the candidacy of young Skywalker," said Rancisis.
"I would even say he pointed directly at it," Yoda sighed.
"Just as he did with Dougan in his time," Windu reminded. "It seems Palpatine is not satisfied with a situation where there is no one on the Council who could report directly to him."
"And that is alarming," Fisto chimed in. "The Chancellor is increasingly interfering in Jedi affairs..."
"With the integration of the Order into the command structure of the Grand Army, it becomes easier for him to do so with every new amendment to the Constitution," noted Plo Koon's hologram. "But the very fact that there could be as many as two of the Chancellor's representatives on the High Council, both in some way close to him... is troubling."
"In that case, the matter should be resolved radically," the Nautalan sliced the air with his palm. "Palpatine wants his man on the Council, and confrontation with the Chancellor is not what we need. Then let Skywalker take Dougan's place."
"That's too dangerous," said Obi-Wan. The other Jedi's surprised looks turned to him. "Anakin... is too young for such responsibility. He is a fighter, and it is extremely difficult for him to perceive the overall picture of events."
"Skywalker is straightforward," Yoda agreed. "Seeing an obstacle before him, he does not go around it, but smashes it."
"Just like Dougan," Fisto interjected. Mace, squinting, looked at his colleague. What gizka had run between Fisto and Dougan for them to be so openly hostile to each other? Moreover, the latter shows it openly, but only after Kit tried to needle him... in an extremely roundabout way. Could it all be because of Aayla, for whom Fisto pined (though he didn't show it), who clearly demonstrated her attraction to the young Jedi? Oh, how many problems arise with these young and hot-headed Jedi when women are involved. "Most likely, Dougan has directly or indirectly ceased to be of interest to Palpatine, which is why he is pushing Skywalker."
"Yes, that's the most obvious option," Kenobi agreed. "Despite the fact that there has been no news from Dougan for several months – aside from the frothing at the mouth on the 'Shadowfeed' I sense that Anakin cannot come to terms with Dougan's growing popularity."
"The HoloNet only keeps saying that the Republic abandoned Dougan to his fate," Rancisis unexpectedly said. "That because of his extremely successful actions, the Order, which supposedly benefits from the protracted nature of the war, decided to destroy him."
"And if so, then news that his membership in the High Council has been terminated will be like a bomb exploding," Plo Koon summarized what had been said. "New torrents of hatred and accusations will pour down on us."
"We will have to endure them," Yoda declared. "For I am not ready to see as many as two of the Chancellor's appointees in the High Council."
"Do you suggest we still replace Dougan with Skywalker?" Windu inquired skeptically.
"Would you object, Master?" Fisto inquired with a smile. "I recall, not so long ago, you spoke as if he were nearly a Sith."
"We can all be wrong," Windu said through gritted teeth. Yes, he had thought so. And, truth be told, those thoughts haven't left him to this day. Especially in the context of how carefully Dougan selected officers for his army, who quickly rose through the ranks. And he demanded not just any Jedi under his wing, but ones highly skilled in their craft. And besides, how quickly Luminara, Shaak, Adi, Evan had entered his circle, literally in unison with Dougan defending his point of view. Even though Stass had not participated in a single Council meeting, Mace had no doubt that her candidacy was not being pushed into the High Council by Dougan for no reason. She was clearly his supporter. Which painted a picture where, out of thirteen Council members, six were Dougan's clique. Intuition told Windu that something was not right here. But there was no direct evidence for it either. Therefore, the Korun chose to let his suspicions lie dormant. Especially since neither Oli Starstone nor the other spies and Shadows had managed to find anything compromising. "The main thing is to admit it in time."
"It seems clear to me anyway," the Nautolan shrugged. "Master Yoda said directly – he will not tolerate two of the Chancellor's supporters on the Council."
"Precisely supporters," Yoda said softly. "But in the light of recent events, I am increasingly convinced that Dougan is not actually as loyal to the Chancellor as we fear."
"Your assumption is based on the fact that Palpatine is not trying to relieve Dougan, but prefers to deal with purging the Separatist infection from the Core Worlds?" Plo Koon clarified. Receiving an affirmative nod in response, the Kel Dor continued:
"But there could be a perfectly logical explanation for this. Dictated, for example, by the difficult operational situation in the Core Worlds. Master Dougan's force is quite substantial and..."
"Spies report that against Dougan's one and a half to two thousand starships, the Separatists have practically five thousand of their own ships of various classes," Rancisis corrected him. "And across the entire front line – about ten thousand. True, there aren't many battleships and destroyers among them... But, sometimes, quantity outweighs quality."
"Enormous numbers," Kenobi shook his head. "As far as I remember, the size of the CIS fleet directed against the other seven armies is about eight thousand, most of them 'Munificent-class star frigates'."
"Only that ratio allows us to advance in the Core Worlds and Colonies," Mace Windu noted grimly. "Superiority over the enemy in the number of Star Destroyers."
"Here we should thank Master Kit Fisto," noted Plo Koon. "If not for his diplomatic talents, after all our failures, the return of Fondor to the Republic... This is undeniably a success."
Windu nodded silently.
With the start of the war, Fondor, which yielded in shipbuilding potential only to Kuat, joined the Confederacy. However, after a year of war, Order spies reported that the majority of the population and administrative apparatus of the shipyard-planet were very much not opposed to disowning their allies, whose position in this war was less and less satisfying the Fondorians' own motivations. After returning from Naboo, Fisto was sent on a secret mission, which, thank the Force, ended successfully. The Republic fleet, which had been paralyzed after the blockade of the system armies and Rothana, was able to breathe a little easier. Because new ships had already been laid down and would be launched from the slipways in a few months.
"Generally speaking," noted Kenobi, "it can be said that with Fondor's switch to our side, a parity has been established between us and the Separatists in terms of the number of the largest shipyard planets."
"That's true," agreed Oppo Rancisis. "On our side are Kuat, Fondor, Byblos, Loronar, Yaga Minor, Ord Trasi, Eriadu, Bilbringi, Tallaan, Tanos, Fenel, near the Mandalorian Sector. These are... significant shipbuilding resources."
"And the Separatists have Raxus Prime, Bestine, which we never managed to reclaim, Yag'Dhul, Gindine, Jaemus, Sluis Van, Foerost, Sullust, Gwori," Obi-Wan reminded them. "The capture of Duro dealt a heavy blow to our position."
"We shouldn't forget that under Master Dougan's control are also the shipbuilding capacities of Rothana, Christophsis, Bothawui, Lantilles," noted Mace Windu. "For now, we shouldn't discount them as loyal to us."
"In that case, we shouldn't forget about the Separatist shipyards at Dac and Minntuin, which are under Separatist control, but, like Lianna, are in the combat zone of the armies subordinate to Master Dougan," Kit Fisto inserted his opinion. "Let's hope he's smart enough to neutralize the threat..."
"Perhaps we should resume negotiations with the Corellians and the Rendili people?" suggested Kenobi. "These shipyards, fighting on our side, could turn the tide of battle."
"The Corellians are under the influence of Senator Garm Bel Iblis," Oppo Rancisis reminded. "He was the one who initiated Corellia's secession from the Republic and the declaration of neutrality... And Rendili is extremely resentful of the Republic because of Senator Organa's actions."
"No wonder the Alderaanian tried to disappear," Fisto smirked. "Any word from him yet?""
"Not a peep," Kenobi confirmed. "Which is rather strange — since he's a fierce opponent of Palpatine, being in the Senate would have let him at least slow down this wave of loyalty to the Chancellor..."
"We have no parity over the shipyards," Yoda sighed. "The Separatists have more."
"But ours are better equipped," Windu noted. "So some parity does exist..."
"The only question is how many of them are loyal to the Republic and how many to the Chancellor personally," Kenobi said quietly.
The Masters fell silent. The situation... was extremely unenviable.
"We must make contingencies," Yoda declared.
"Grand Master?" Plo Koon asked in surprise.
"Dark times have come for the Republic and the Jedi," the Master said, twitching his ears. "The war has taken on a protracted character. Discontent with the Jedi is growing. I feel the Chancellor's pressure more and more."
"As do we all," Windu confirmed. "But... you have something else in mind, don't you?"
The Masters looked curiously at their leader.
Yoda, after holding a theatrical pause, spoke:
"The Gwori shipyards no longer belong to the Separatists. The Banking Clan struck them less than a day ago, driving out the CIS forces and destroying their fleet."
"Excellent news," Plo Koon beamed. "Gwori is the sole producer of the Munificent-class frigates, which make up the majority of the CIS fleet. By destroying those shipyards, we could deprive..."
"The shipyards are not destroyed," Yoda corrected. "Damaged, they are, but only slightly."
"So the Banking Clan has finally proven that Rush Clovis keeps his word about the banks' neutrality," Kenobi concluded.
"So it seems," Yoda nodded. "Master Fisto, a task I have for you."
"I'm listening, Grand Master."
"Travel to Gwori, take the shipyards under guard," the Master ordered. "Property of the Order this is now."
"What?!" Windu asked, stunned. "A planet-shipyard — what do we need that for?"
"To build ships," Yoda grumbled. "A contingency we must have. Ill I sense the future for the Order. Already once we have endured an attack on the Temple during this war. Our libraries have been plundered. Systematically our enemy weakens the Order. A preemptive move we must make."
"It's unlikely that owning one shipyard could change the course of this conflict," Kenobi remarked. "After all, it's just one..."
"The governments of Yaga Minor and Bilbringi are friendly to the Jedi," Yoda said. "And that is no small thing."
"Your words smack of conspiracy," Fisto shook his head. "To do something in secret from the Republic..."
"Internal affairs of the Order these are," Yoda retorted grumpily. "Report to Palpatine on this I am not required to. Any more than on the restoration of the Enclave on Dantooine."
"Isn't that a bit extreme?" Windu doubted. "We even evacuated the AgriCorps branch from there..."
"And now the Jedi are returning to Dantooine," Yoda declared. "Right in one thing Palpatine is — great wealth we have accumulated. For a thousand years we have not managed it. Envious eyes have turned toward us. I have negotiated with Rush Clovis — secretly purchased Gwori. Cheap it was not. But from now on, we can produce our own ships — not Venators, perhaps, but Consular-class cruisers. And many others. With the remnants of the Antarian Rangers I have spoken. They support us unanimously and are already conducting restoration work on Dantooine under the leadership of Depa Billaba. Padawans not engaged in battles I have begun secretly transferring there. The archive we are copying and our relics we are preparing to move."
"But why not use the clones?" Kenobi frowned. "They're excellent soldiers..."
"To the Chancellor they are loyal," Yoda countered. "Complete trust we cannot place in them. Only on those who have proven their loyalty to the Order time and again can we rely. To the Wookiees I must go — good relations we have with them."
"This all sounds like a conspiracy," Kenobi shook his head. "If this becomes known..."
"No one beyond this chamber must know of what we discuss here," Yoda said sternly. "The recording of this meeting must be erased, Master Windu. And the backup copy as well."
"It will be done, Grand Master," and though he did not like how it sounded, the Korun was loyal to the first among equals.
"Master Kenobi," Yoda continued. "A task for you there will be."
"Anything," Obi-Wan's hologram spread its hands.
"The planet Biscayne, a producer of fuel and raw materials for starships, you must capture," the small Master ordered. "And the Jamus shipyards you will need to occupy soon — Rush Clovis has promised to move his fleet there as soon as our Rangers land on Gwori."
"You intend to buy these shipyards too?" Kit Fisto squinted.
"Such an arrangement with Clovis exists," Yoda agreed. "Regarding Ord Trasi as well."
Mace shook his head. Either Yoda wasn't telling them something, or... Had the aged Master truly lost his mind? Fine — one shipyard, fine — two... But to take all the Separatist and Republic shipyards in the north and west of the galaxy at once... That would not go unnoticed by anyone. Especially not Palpatine. Unless a full-scale civil war broke out. Though perhaps that was what the Grand Master was hinting at? And preparing the Jedi for?
But then, that meant he wasn't confident in the loyalty of the Senate and the Supreme Chancellor? Truly dark times, when the Jedi doubted democracy...
"Master, even if we gain control of these shipyards, we are unlikely to hold them or even use them... Truly enormous human and other resources would be required. Not to mention that we would need crews for hundreds of ships — first of all, since, as I understand it, we don't trust the clones," Oppo Rancisis noted.
"Supporters we have on Genofatal — thousands of them," Yoda said. "The Academy on Prefsbelt IV — on the side of the Jedi. The people of Adumar — excellent pilots and warriors — agreements with them I also have. And no less than a dozen worlds and sectors support the Order in the north — from Sernpidal to Borleias. Master Kenobi need only conclude the campaign on Mygeeto, and the Separatist forces in this part of the galaxy will be broken."
"So your plan is this: in case of danger, retreat from Coruscant to Dantooine?" Oppo Rancisis clarified.
"And organize resistance there, if necessary," Yoda confirmed.
"Isn't that a bit... excessive?" Rancisis inquired. "Yes, we have disagreements with the Chancellor, but what we are talking about now is civil war."
"I do not want this," Yoda admitted. "But allow tyranny or the destruction of the Order — I cannot either. If I am exaggerating this threat, then into exile I will go and before a tribunal I will stand. If not..."
"I will do whatever is necessary, Grand Master," Kenobi agreed. "But... What about Anakin? He has arrived on Coruscant for reinforcements, and given his friendship with the Chancellor, I'm sure he already knows about Palpatine's decision to appoint him to the Council..."
The small Jedi nodded almost imperceptibly, closing his eyes. Mace noted that the Grand Master had reached out to the Force... And no one dared disturb his meditation.
"Inform young Skywalker," he looked at Windu, "that onto the Council he is admitted. But the rank of Master we will not grant him. Too young he still is."
"And Dougan?" Kit Fisto leaned forward. "Since we are putting Skywalker in Ki-Adi-Mundi's place..."
"Palpatine's appointee will take Master Dougan's seat on the Council," Yoda corrected. "He, in turn... We cannot expel him from the Council. Influence in society we would lose. And the Force also tells me that he is far less of a threat to us than the Chancellor's encroachments."
"We cannot keep two members without the rank of Master on the High Council," Rancisis stated. "Eleven Masters, one vacant seat, one Master and one Knight..."
"Twelve Masters on the Council there must be," Yoda announced. "Master to make of Master Dougan I propose."
"But... That goes against all the rules," the Nautolan grimaced. "He has already received all his achievements on credit... For what merits would you grant him the rank of Master?"
"General Grievous he killed," Yoda said. Mace looked at the small Grand Master in shock. But there was not a trace of a smile on his face.
"But there's been no word... How do you know this?"
"Trusted information it is," the Grand Master evaded vaguely. "The source of it I trust as myself."
And once again, a heavy silence fell over the chamber of the Jedi High Council.
* * *
"It's a failure, my Lord," Jerec — even without eyes — stared directly at the Force Ghost of Emperor Vitiate, who was examining a man crucified on a laboratory table. "I completed the rituals you specified, exactly as you instructed."
"And he is dead," Valkorion noted.
"Yes, my Master," Set Harth said quietly in his Miraluka guise. "Master Qu Rahn did not survive the metamorphoses intended for him. His body rejected the Sith magic — despite the dozens of alchemical substances within him. Which is... rather strange."
"Nothing unusual about it," Vitiate declared. "One cannot expect that a selection process that lasted three and a half thousand years could be replicated in such a short time. No alchemy can replace the natural order of things — no matter how hard one tries."
"So everything is lost?" Harth exclaimed in horror.
"This part of the plan — yes, it has ended in failure," the ancient Sith stated. "But where one door closes, another can always be opened."
"Master?" Harth stared at him uncomprehendingly.
"You said you performed all the rituals I specified?"
"Yes, my Lord. In the exact sequence."
"Good," Vitiate acknowledged. "Then it's time to move on to the main plan."
"But you said Dougan was no longer suitable for your design," Jerec reminded him.
"Yes, the apprentice has slipped out of control," Vitiate agreed. "And that is regrettable. For the first time in five thousand years I decided to do the right thing, for the galaxy's benefit — and this is the result. Though, after several attempts to conquer or destroy the galaxy, to expect help in saving it... The outcome was somewhat predictable. I will have to take everything back into my own hands."
"You intend to move against Dougan?" Jerec clarified.
"I will have to," Vitiate looked at his translucent fingers. "He has... gone soft. Especially after the encounter with the Celestials. The bastards, even though they couldn't recruit him, still twisted his logic, his motives, his intentions. He is no longer the one needed to rule the galaxy."
The ghost fell silent, staring at a single point. Then, quietly, he inquired:
"So you performed everything according to my instructions..."
"Yes, my Lord!"
"Good. You must understand me, Jerec — the end justifies the means." The ghost, fixing a piercing gaze on the Hand, unleashed upon him all the Force power at his disposal.
The Miraluka screamed, collapsing to his knees. Vitiate, watching the being writhe, understood perfectly what he was experiencing now.
The Emperor's attack began with a sharp pain in the head. Seth must have felt as though dozens of red-hot, pointed needles had been driven into his skull, moving unevenly and asynchronously, tearing his brain apart.
That was the first stage.
The second began when those needles shattered into pieces, attacking every neuron in his brain. Each of those tiny fragments seeped into his consciousness, tormenting it and causing inhuman pain.
The wounds were by no means fatal. They weren't even real. They had a completely different purpose. The Emperor watched Seth suffer — his jaw hung slack, his muscles locked in an unceasing scream, the very air around him reeked of horror and uncontrollable fear.
The pain pulsed like a fiery heartbeat in every nerve, every cell of his body, but this suffering went far beyond simple physical sensation. Vitiate felt it and reveled in it.
To move to phase three, he needed slightly more energy than he currently had. A pity about Jerec — he alone was more useful than all those servants the Emperor had transferred to Dougan. But every utterly devoted being must understand that sooner or later, they would be betrayed.
His mind flowed into the raging current of the Force around him, summoned the energy of the Dark Side, and with the speed of thought began to spin, weave, and shape it, braiding an intricate pattern that Vitiate had used hundreds of times over his long life.
The Emperor's spirit surged into a new host.
A wretched one, to be honest. Even those rituals Jerek had performed shortly before this hour served only to strengthen his body, not the captured Jedi's. That one — nothing. Just a small fry, a piece of the puzzle, a desperate attempt to cobble together a suitable vessel on the fly. But it hadn't worked. So the Emperor moved on to implementing his true plan.
Suddenly he felt the new body respond to his mental commands. There — he moved a hand, a leg... He saw through the Force as only a Miraluka could, heard through Jerec's ears. But he also felt the latter's mind now within his own body.
It attacked instinctively, trying to defend itself, but the Emperor was more experienced, smarter, more capable... He effortlessly pushed Jerec's spirit away from himself, mercilessly squeezing it beyond the boundaries of its own body, extinguishing its spark of life with tremendous effort.
This was a battle of wills, where a sufficiently skilled and competent Miraluka, versed in most mental Force techniques, had clashed. Against Vitiate, who knew more about the Force than most could ever learn in all their existence. But... after only years, he was far weaker than in his period of power. Much weaker than before.
For a single moment, it seemed the opponents were absolutely equal. But an instant later, it was decided.
Experience prevailed over youth and devotion.
Tracking the fading consciousness of his servant, Vitiate clenched his fingers into fists and, with relish, released Force Lightning, incinerating the mangled torso of Jedi Master Qu Rahn.
Breathing in the air thick with ozone and the smell of burnt flesh, the Emperor of the Sith allowed himself a smile.
The real struggle for the galaxy had only just begun.
* * *
"So this is where you've holed up, you horned bastard," Bo-Katan said, lowering the monocular through which she had been examining the grim structure in the ashen-magma hell of Mustafar.
The secret lair of the head of the Shadow Collective was fairly well guarded. Ground patrols. Firing positions. A pair of fighters on standby, ready to launch at a moment's notice.
Not the easiest target to infiltrate.
But she had to get inside. And exact vengeance upon her sister's killer.
"What do you think?" she asked her companion, descending from the rise.
Azamat, smirking, turned his head toward the redhead.
"I think it's a bit late to talk you out of this, isn't it?"
"If you wanted to talk me out of it, you should have done it on Coruscant," the redhead declared. "Now that I'm one step away from victory — don't even think about getting in my way."
"And why would I do that?" the man asked in surprise.
"Who knows with you smugglers," Bo-Katan shrugged. "But I have to admit, you've got balls. Breaking through first Republic, then Separatist, then Republic blockades again in some crappy transport... And all for just ten thousand credits."
"Money doesn't smell," the man reminded her. "But since you want my opinion — storming that citadel with just two guns... is stupid."
The Mandalorian looked at him reproachfully.
"I..."
"I know," the smuggler replied. "Mandalorian women can bend beskar with their bare hands and melt destroyer hulls with a stream of piss. Heard it all before."
Bo smirked.
"Nice saying. But no matter how many guards are in there, I'm killing that bastard."
"What for?" His Corellian-built freighter was sitting in a crater a few kilometers from the target. Azamat had landed the ship as close to the target as possible, trying to mask the ion trail behind a series of volcanic eruptions. Which was notable on Mustafar — you could mine hundreds of metals lying literally at your feet. But scanners didn't work properly for the same reasons. Once an eruption started, an area a couple of kilometers wide became a blind spot.
"He killed my sister," Katan explained.
"Why?" Azamat sat on the freighter's ramp, diligently checking the functionality of his blaster. When the fun started, he clearly wouldn't have time to check whether ash had gotten inside the weapon.
"What do you mean, 'Why'?" the woman asked in surprise.
"Well, every action has a reason," the man explained. "So I'm curious — why did he decide to kill your sister?"
"She was the ruler of Mandalore," the woman replied dryly. "Maul captured the planet and killed her to break the resistance of the rest."
"Ah, then it all makes more sense," the man replaced the receiver assembly. "Killing the planet's ruler immediately after capture — that's standard tactic."
"He didn't kill her immediately," Bo corrected. "First he held her in prison, and then, when her friend came to rescue her... He ran his lightsaber through her heart."
"Hah," the man smirked. "Then it's not so simple."
"Are you a smuggler or a psychologist?" Bo-Katan hissed.
"First thirty-five years of my life I was the second, the last fifteen — the first," the man said, not at all offended by the veiled insult. "And yes, anticipating your question — life made me. And if you want my opinion, Maul didn't kill your sister because of claims to Mandalore. He was, it seems, taking revenge on the man who came to free her."
"That's nonsense," the Mandalorian said confidently. "Maul and Kenobi... What mutual grievances could they possibly have?"
"Oh, so the guy who came to save your sister was Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi?" Azamat smiled. "Well then it's all clear."
"For example?" Bo-Katan tensed.
"Remember that mess on Naboo about eleven years ago?" he asked. The Mandalorian nodded affirmatively. "So, in the middle of all that chaos there was a little scuffle between one Jedi and his Padawan on one side, and one red-faced Zabrak on the other..."
"Get to the point," the younger Kryze demanded.
"The Zabrak killed the Padawan's master, and the Padawan cut the Zabrak in half. And thought he was dead," Azamat summarized briefly. "Need me to tell you who the Padawan and the Zabrak were, or did you figure it out yourself?"
"Kenobi and Maul," the Mandalorian forced out.
Azamat, smoothing his hair, nodded silently.
"Where did you get that information?"
"I worked as a psychologist for the Royal House of Naboo," the man explained. Seeing the doubt in the Mandalorian's eyes, he added with a sigh. "And quietly moonlighted smuggling plasma. Imagine how many bricks I laid in my brand-new trousers when I'm sitting there calmly, expropriating plasma, and suddenly first the red-faced guy flies into the hall with his red lightsaber, then a long-haired Jedi... Blood. Guts, meat, death rattles, vows of vengeance..."
"A lightsaber doesn't leave open wounds," Kryze noted.
"Can't even embellish anymore," Azamat sighed mournfully. "I suppose I can't say that the whole thing was so limp and impotent that I almost fell asleep while they were finally chopping each other into cutlets?"
"So I take it after that you got kicked out of Naboo?" Bo-Katan stared intently at the smuggler.
"Yeah," the former psychologist nodded. "That kid, the Padawan, turned out to be sharp-eyed. And the queen didn't really look into it — she was a bit alternatively gifted, our queen. All for peace and justice, but as soon as the Trade Federation landed troops — she puffed off to Coruscant and was never seen again. Anyway, they booted me out of there..."
"So that's why you agreed to help me," Bo-Katan realized. "You want to kill Maul and Kenobi?"
"Not particularly," the smuggler grimaced. "To be honest, things were pretty tough after I lost my job and my side hustle. But business is good for me now."
"Be that as it may, I'm going to kill Maul," Bo-Katan declared resolutely. "He killed my sister."
"She must have been very dear to Kenobi, for Maul to kill her just to cause him trouble," Azamat said, gazing at the lava-flooded slopes.
"Your psychological tricks again?" the Mandalorian looked at the man skeptically.
"L — logic," the man smirked. "Maul wanted to cause your Kenobi as much pain as possible. And for some reason he killed your sister, not you or anyone else."
"There's a grain of truth in your words," Kryze nodded. "But Maul still has to answer for his crimes against my people."
"No one asked my opinion, of course, but it seems to me that the one for whose sake a sentient being was killed in revenge — that's the source of your problems," the man said. "Maul is certainly a bastard — he really screwed up the smuggling and the entire criminal underworld — but if I were in your shoes, I'd give Kenobi a beating first."
The Mandalorian looked toward where the Shadow Collective's residence lay beyond the slag heap. Then she shifted her gaze to Azamat, who was cleaning his second blaster. Back to the residence. And again to the smuggler.
"Pack up," she ordered. "We're leaving."
"Where to?" the smuggler asked lazily.
"Ord Mantell," she explained. "I need to have a talk with a certain Jedi."
"That's going to cost more," he warned. "Everyone's on high alert there right now — they're hunting Separatists."
"Don't worry about payment," Bo-Katan assured him. "You'll have enough to buy yourself a freighter better than this antique you're flying now."
"Sweetheart," the pilot rose to his feet. "I've never met anything better than a light Corellian-built XS freighter. And I'll never part with it — this ship is better than most."
"Uh-huh," the Mandalorian snorted, walking up the ramp.
Azamat, returning the second blaster to its holster, whistling a cheerful tune, followed her up. He'd have to remember to send an encrypted message to Damon during refueling. Zero-4 had handled the assignment brilliantly, redirecting the heir of Duchess Kryze's wrath from Darth Maul to the Jedi Kenobi. He'd have to ask for a bonus for this job.
* * *
Baron Papanoidea, examining Pantora's financial reports, grunted with satisfaction.
Wonderful. Just wonderful.
The Republic was pouring millions of credits into building a base on Pantora, paying handsomely for the services of those Pantorans who volunteered for the army and navy. Training them completely free of charge, which in turn allowed him to write off enormous amounts of subsidy funds. Straight into the Baron's pocket. In the time since he had become the planet's ruler, his personal accounts had swelled by a good hundred million. That would be more than enough to live out the rest of his life in comfort. Especially if, before his tragic disappearance, he could get his hands on another two hundred million of Pantora's budget...
And let that fool Chuchi deal with whatever happened here.
The Baron glanced at a copy of the treaty regarding Pantora's accession to some Eternal Empire or other. Utter nonsense. But the document had been ratified. And a rather nice sum had landed in Pantora's accounts — half a billion credits, already cashed and sitting in cases by the entrance.
Senator Chuchi's signature — whom he had, without much thought, appointed Vice-Chair of Pantora — on the treaty absolved him of all responsibility. Convince the idealist to sign the treaty, the one that would finally strip the Republic's gears and bring occupation forces to the planet to search for where the money had gone and what in the nine hells was going on. He himself would be very, very far away. So far that no living soul would find him. The family had already departed; he only needed to move the last of the funds. And then die for the rest of the galaxy. Once the ash on Pantora settled, it would be completely impossible to find or prove anything.
His attention was drawn by a noise in the reception area. The secretary was explaining something in raised tones to some visitor who was confidently approaching the office doors.
The Baron lifted a bored gaze to the young kid who burst through the doors, dressed in typical thug and mercenary rags, noticed the aforementioned Senator standing beside them, and inquired:
"Rayo, what is going on? And who is this fool who has walked into my office?"
"I apologize, Chair, my husband is hot-headed and impulsive," the fool babbled. "Allow me to introduce him — Billy Kidd."
"I couldn't care less who he is," Papanoidea remarked. "What are you doing here, Senator Chuchi?"
"She's actually Vice-Chair Rayo Kidd, cowpuncher," the man corrected him, a blaster pistol appearing in his hand from nowhere. "And unfortunately for you, I'm an agent of the Imperial Security Bureau. Of the state Pantora has joined. And you've just embezzled the Empire's money." He kicked the cases stuffed full of cash.
"Get out," Papanoidea demanded, raising a hand from under the desktop with a weapon aimed at the fool in the hat. "Before my blaster makes you splatter your brains all over the reception area. And take your tramp with you."
A green blaster bolt pierced the shoulder of the hand holding the weapon. The Baron, squealing, bent down to retrieve the blaster with his other hand.
But the young man was faster.
The Baron felt his turban — which he had worn for quite some time — fly off, and then the man's fingers grabbed the remaining hair on the Pantoran's head. Tilting his head back, Billy Kidd slammed the Chair's face down onto the heavy marble desktop, leaving an imprint of the official's features. And again — eight times, until the cheekbones crunched and the nasal cartilage lodged dangerously in the sinuses.
"You should watch your mouth, shepherd," the man leaned close to his ear. "Or you won't live to see the interrogators. And I assure you, Hutt-spawn, you won't have time to pussyfoot around there. You'll tell everything — where you funneled the money, what schemes you used, and who else is involved. But first, you shithead, you'll apologize to my wife and tell me how to reach your agents. I'm absolutely burning with a burning desire to bring light, goodness, and eternity to this planet."
The Pantoran tried to object, but having his fingers broken one by one on both hands in a matter of seconds loosened the baron's tongue. And made him wonder: does this guy have the fastest, most trained hands in the Outer Rim?