Coruscant. Jedi Order
Two Jedi walked early in the morning along the temple corridor. The sun hadn't managed to fully appear over the rising skyscraper spires, and life in the order was already boiling. So, the pair of Force-sensitives, walking from the canteen, were already discussing events on Malastare...
"Master Raynor, the dispute between the Corporate Alliance and the Malastare fuel companies could escalate into an armed conflict. The Dugs are not going to yield and, according to our information, have already reached an agreement with the corresponding Senate committees. In case of a worsening of relations, they will fall under the protection of the Judicial Department. There is an opinion that we will be tasked to lead this matter..."
"And why can't they all sit quietly," the Jedi grumbled gloomily. Raynor never complained, but the last days were simply squeezing all the juices out of the Jedi. "Either all sorts of forgotten relics wake up, or powerful dark artifacts surface, then they suddenly vanish just as miraculously, then Mandalorians cause a stir in the outer regions, now this too..."
"Master Yoda believes that it's necessary to send negotiators to resolve this conflict before it begins."
"Certainly necessary. I think Qui-Gon will be able to, if not resolve the conflict, then at least buy time. I don't know why, but the thought that someone's will stands behind this conflict gives me no peace. Besides, the Banking Clan has started to fuss almost faster than we even learned of this problem. Dubious, everything is dubious."
"By the way, how is Dooku?"
In response Raynor wanted to swear, but restrained himself and spoke more civilly:
"Bad. Very bad. Another trail led nowhere. As soon as some information surfaces, we are every time either late, or..."
"Master Raynor! Master Raynor!" a youthful voice suddenly interrupted the Master.
Turning around, the two Jedi saw a youngling running toward them at full speed.
"Whew!" having stopped, the boy tried to catch his breath.
"What is it, youngling?"
"An urgent message for you," the boy held out a tablet.
Activating the datapad, Raynor glanced at the sender. The letter came from one of the field agents stationed to watch particularly dangerous targets.
"Well of course, as if I didn't have enough problems." The Jedi rolled his eyes. The letters they send usually aren't good, which already sets a certain tone. Frowning, Raynor stepped aside and unlocked the message.
"Jedi Knight Rondors reporting. The situation on Concord Dawn is getting out of control. One of the leading clans—'Vizsla,' has come under serious pressure from the others and has yielded positions. The clan head, as far as I know, is killed. This happened during a duel with Shade Aero. Aero himself is alive, but is in critical condition..."
Reading the report, Raynor's eyes widened more and more. And having finished reading, the Jedi turned to the Order members waiting for him:
"Master Yan, I am forced to interrupt our conversation, due to suddenly appeared чрезвычайно important matters."
"Where are you going, Raynor?!"
"To prepare the ship. I urgently need to leave!"
***
Somewhere on Muunilinst
Darth Plagueis, also known as Hego Damask, was in thought. Sitting at a wide table in his own room, the Muun surveyed a quite material board deployed before him with equally material pieces from holo-chess and was tormented by thoughts:
The Mandalorians were strengthening and gaining power, having a good cover before them. A year or two, and one could reap the fruits, using a puppet government. A pocket army... a cheap pocket army of elite warriors, how wonderful! And most importantly—one that obeys only you.
Events around a possible fuel crisis were also unfolding wonderfully. In view of the worsening of relations on Malastare, and small speculations, the shares of some companies had soared to sky-high heights, which pleasantly warmed the Muun's wallet. Plagueis mused: sell the shares now, or wait a bit? On one hand, if you wait—you can get large dividends, but that might attract unnecessary attention. And if now, then you'll be in the black, and won't stand out among the rest.
Another point the Sith considered was the Jedi. Wandering in the darkness like the blind, trying to find and pull on broken ends. Watching them fail time after time was akin to balm for the Sith's soul. And yet who would have thought? No one, and the Muun himself included.
The map Aero delivered—brought simply huge dividends. Thanks to it not only unusual Force relics were found, but also just expensive trinkets. Yes, something surfaced in the net, and something Plagueis threw into the HoloNet himself, giving the Jedi trackers a false target. How amusing it is—to watch the Order members chase blanks.
Also, the development of Tatooine warmed both the Muun's pocket and soul. Energy always brought very big money, and a company that will produce particularly powerful reactors—can easily compete even with well-known manufacturers. The research institute is already built and even launched; industrial plants are also ready and waiting for their hour. One only needs to wait a bit more, until the clans ripen and the whole mechanism comes into motion.
Yielding to emotions, the Sith began to smile. Everything works as it should, everything is taken into account. Every cog is in its place, every piece does what it must. Everything was going simply perfectly!
Returning to business: ships are cruising and every day there are more of them; new mines are being launched. Business bloomed and smelled, developing right before his eyes. He sees it, others see it, because of which TNC shares are rising in price with the speed of a launching rocket. For a moment Damask even thought about selling part of the shares, but rejected the idea. No. Not yet. One must wait a bit more... And the Muun knew how to wait.
Well, and from what was happening in the criminal world, Hego Damask caught a veritable euphoria. Market redistribution, criminal squabbles... one might think it's a local level, but no. One can very successfully intercept the threads, take control of senators, acquire new levers on both criminal figures and some authorized representatives of the Judicial Department.
And if one also arranges squabbles in lower Coruscant, and hangs all that on the Jedi Order, what happiness it would be!
"Should have set Aero on the Black Sun," the thought flashes. Но the chance is missed; he should have acted earlier.
The good news didn't end there. Observations of the promising apprentice found on Naboo brought a result. The boy had huge talent, along with a heavy capricious character. The latter spoiled life for both the possible apprentice and Plagueis. The Sith not infrequently had to cover for the child, primarily from the Jedi Order. Only recently this brat had hit a couple of people to death. And never mind regular ones, but no. If not for the Sith, the story could have ended quite differently for the young talent.
"I think I can visit him in a few days and have a serious talk," a thought flashes in the Muun's head.
Despite that, the young Sheev was by no means the problem. For his years the boy was very resourceful. What spoiled the picture wasn't that, but the presence of Tenebrous. The old Bith had gone mad on his research and no longer represented interest, but was a huge threat, and therefore it was necessary to get rid of him. But how? Not to win in a direct fight. Tenebrous never shared all his knowledge, and in a direct combat encounter the chance of being the loser is high. Moreover, Plagueis always had to make do with roundabout ways and get by with independently found data, including on the Sith for additional self-development.
But since one can't act directly—one can indirectly. Because of his experiments the "old senile" had already lost the ability to foresee the future and one can play on that, luring the fool into a trap. For this reason, these negative circumstances cannot be considered as such, for their resolution will not be such a problem.
Stretching in his chair, the Muun was already openly smiling and, pulling a glass with alcohol to him, took a small sip.
Yes... the game he had played out pleased Plagueis very much; everything was going exactly as planned.
"Or almost everything," the Muun thought, removing a piece from the board. Events on Concord Dawn had turned out not as he expected. Despite everything, the piece left the board; a replacement needed to be selected. Но against the general background that was a trifle. The Mandalorians are coming into his hands themselves; the HIT company is behind him too. Even without taking into account that he is the only co-founder, within the company itself there is already his trusted person who will always do everything needed and, what is important—as needed.
But here the doors to the chambers open and a young human girl appears in the passage.
"Master, I have ill news for you."
Turning, the Muun arched an eyebrow. Rada never disturbed him over trifles, and all the more, if she speaks of "ill news," then the news is indeed very bad.
"Coruscant Air Traffic Control has received an order to allocate a priority corridor for the ship of Jedi Master Raynor. As I found out, he and several more Jedi are flying to Concord Dawn."
"Hm... Anything else?"
"No, Master," the girl bowed.
"Dismissed."
Bowing once more, Rada turned and left her master's office just as quietly.
Leaning back in his chair again, Damask looked at the board once more. Removing another piece from it, the Muun thoughtfully examined the wooden toy. Aero had not only survived again, but also attracted unnecessary attention from those who were already digging under him.
"The Jedi must not be allowed to get even a shred of information from him."
Pulling a holoprojector to him and dialing the necessary number, the Muun placed the device on the table, waiting silently for an answer from the other side. But the projector turned on, however no hologram appeared.
"Speaking."
"There is urgent work. Target—Shade Aero. Eliminate him faster than the Jedi reach him. Ideally, if you leave evidence pointing to them. All data on the object will be transferred to your communicator now."
"Understood."
The link disconnected. Sending the archive with information after it, Damask returned to the main questions.
***
Concord Dawn. Central Hospital
Three figures, covered in solid black cloaks, went out onto the roof of a residential building, surveying the territory of the Kero'Tus central hospital. Four armed Mandalorians in black armor stood at the entrance; another two squads patrolled the territory. Sentries walked along the roof, carefully surveying the surroundings.
Having surveyed the guard, one of the figures turned and went back behind cover, stepping over a sniper lying on the roof. Having hidden, the leader took out a hand projector, creating a three-dimensional image of the hospital. Indicating the noticed patrols, he turned the hospital around, pointing to the inner courtyard and the equipment garage on its territory.
Having coordinated the plan, the unknowns began to act. Jumping from the roof, breaking some cameras with the Force, and turning the patrol with a mind trick, they raced straight to the gates. Lifting the leaf with the Force, all three immediately slip inside.
Running through the garage, hospital staff appear in their path. Not letting them recover, the trio disables the workers with quick and precise strikes. Taking the passes from the staff, the unknowns penetrate into the main block and go up the stairs to the necessary floor.
Two stood on the stairs, right at the door, but the people hadn't managed to recover before they were disoriented by Force suggestion, and upon closing were given a good blow to the helmet.
"...damned lizards, where did they even get them from?!" having slightly opened the door, the voice of one of the Mandalorians reached the intruders. The whole floor was under guard; Mandalorians stood at every entrance, and it could well be that even near the windows. "And they surrounded the whole arena with them."
"Flew to Myrkr. I managed to find out that members of Clan Vizsla were away somewhere, but where exactly, I found out too late."
Instead of an answer a hard blow rang out.
"Don't spoil the wall. It's not at fault here."
"Just let me get to Tor, he'll follow after his father!"
"Don't aggravate it. The conflict is exhausted; the Vizsla have lost supporters. Not only did they prepare for that fight in advance, they also lost when everything was playing on their side. I don't think Tor will dare to say anything at the council. And if he dares—it's his problem."
"And yet."
"He shouldn't be beaten," a tired sigh sounded. "But driven away. And all the dissenters with him. I think Shade would have acted exactly like that. He did everything, after all, so we wouldn't lift weapons against each other."
"You're right..."
Kaboom!
"...what the?!"
The conversation was interrupted by an unexpected crash. An explosion boomed right near the hospital, which surprised not only the Mandalorians but also the intruders. Quickly grabbing their helmets, the Mandalorians ran to the stairs, but throwing the doors open they run into the unknowns.
"Everything is fine, we are our own," the group leader waved his hand before the Mandalorians. "The explosion is outside, go and check."
"Alright."
Letting the Mandalorians pass them, the group was about to go further, but here a pistol was aimed at the back of the last one's head.
The Force managed to warn faster than the pistol fired. Activating a blue lightsaber, the unknown walking last cut off the blaster and pinned the Mandalorian against the wall with the Force, so that he lost consciousness.
Laying the second one out in exactly the same way, the group of Force-sensitives jumped into the corridor, where another pair of guards had already prepared for battle. Jerking them toward them, the Mandalorians are sent into flight after which they are slammed against the floor with all their might. Alas, that turned out to be too little; both were still conscious and tried to resist.
Lifting both above the ground and squeezing their necks thoroughly, the trio calmly passes the resisting soldiers and as soon as they fell silent, lowers them to the floor.
The surprises didn't end there. They had only reached for the door when shots rang out from a side corridor, and then a Mandalorian's body flew past them back-first. Having prepared for battle, the group encounters the disturber of the peace who had raised the chaos.
And this "someone" was not alone. Two beings, also in dark capes of a different cut and with the same blue swords.
The staring game ended without even beginning. Dropping the load they were carrying, the first group breaks from its place and a battle breaks out between the Force-sensitives. Because the corridor was very narrow, fighting was very difficult, especially with swords.
The lighting blew out, furniture caught fire, there was no free space on the walls from lightsaber marks. Nevertheless, the battle didn't drag on. The first group, using its numerical superiority, was able to separate the partners from each other and already first two against one, and then three, dealt with the threat.
A quick inspection showed that besides those two there was someone else, which means that someone else still had to be caught. Nodding to one of his own, the group leader sent the Force-sensitive to find the one who had distracted the Mandalorians. They themselves, remaining two, entered the ward where Shade Aero was.
A Mandalorian had been standing on edge inside all this time. The door only opened, and a burst of blaster fire hit it. Right during the shooting the Mandalorian's weapon was pulled upward, and he himself was slammed against the ceiling and thrown out the window.
"Time is short, they are already coming here!"
"Then act faster. Is it him?"
"Have to make sure..."
***
A little later. Kero'Tus Central Square.
Many gathered at night to see their named brother on his last journey. A bonfire crackled, a body already mangled and burnt beyond recognition was burning out. The damned assassins had insured themselves and guaranteed to burn the target to such an extent that the Mandalorians who burst into the flames only managed to carry out the mangled body of their brother.
Against the background of the bonfire's crackle, a multi-voiced choir of Mandalorians stood in the air...
"...Mhi K'oyacyi ti ae kyr'am vode (We say farewell to you, fallen brother),"
The blazing bonfire was reflected in the visors of hundreds of soldiers.
"Elek nari gar tracinya Taung. (May you walk the path of the Taung)."
The warriors struck their chests with their fists, in time with the song.
"Bal trattok'o bah gre Mando. (And find yourself in the great Mando)."
Another strike.
"Kote! Darasuum kote, gala vode. (Glory! Eternal glory to you, brother)," each strike marked a step of the already fallen fighter to the great Mando.
"Mhi K'oyacyi ti… ae kyr'am vode. (We say farewell to you... fallen brother)"
The voices fell silent, but no one intended to leave. Despite everything, Aero had earned the right to bear the title of Mandalore. Moreover, he was able to win the personal respect of the clan heads. And the gathered warriors were seeing off not just one of their own, but their Leader. Who, though he had been so for such a short term, had managed to do immeasurably much for them...
Besides the clan heads, Warren, Dis, Kaut, and Zerronis stood at the ceremony. None of the fighters uttered even a word, none of them showed their faces. Но each of their helmets bore the pattern their brother wore. It wasn't visible, but looking from under his brows, Warren couldn't believe it. He remembered what Shade had told him, remembered what his friend had managed to survive, and he couldn't believe that Aero had died just like that. It was unthinkable! Но it was the truth...
Anger possessed him and the other Mandalorians... shackled their hearts. They had tried, had wanted to protect him, but it hadn't worked. They themselves had had to be carried out of the fire. A thirst for revenge tore outward, forcing the Mandalorians to clench their fists until their gloves creaked.
Next to the quartet of Mandalorians stood another three. Derick Lars was not a friend, but he respected his supervisor. To make out of Tatooine what the planet represents now—not everyone is given such a thing. Next to him stood Riasha. The Togruta had come not even for Shade's sake, but for her daughter's. For Riasha, Aero had been and remained a mercenary, but for Talia... the Twi'lek believed in neither love nor attachment. She repeated again and again that there were no feelings between her and Aero. There weren't and that was it! Period! Но treacherous tears flowed anyway, and her whitening hands squeezed the remaining pair of swords like the greatest treasure. Ask her, and Talia herself wouldn't be able to answer the question of what was happening to her. For her it all looked like some kind of delirium. As if it had already been. As if one of her nightmares had come to life. None of this should be... Но the heat from the fire, and the warriors' voices spoke of the opposite.
Also at the ceremony, a bit to the side, was another person who was, to put it mildly, not welcome, but let in nevertheless. Dooku was allowed to be present only for the reason that Shade himself had spoken flatteringly of the Jedi.
"I promise brother... we will find those who did this," Warren whispered as soon as the voices fell silent.
When the ceremony was over, the Mandalorian approached the representative of the Jedi Order standing to the side.
"The Order bears no responsibility for what happened," Dooku shook his head.
"As if there are many Force-sensitives in the galaxy swinging blue swords," the Mandalorian replied caustically.
"Warren, believe me. If the Order had wanted Aero harm, we would have acted quite differently. I say this not as a Jedi, but as a person who perfectly understands your feelings. The Order has nothing to do with it."
Warren didn't answer. Turning around, the Mandalorian silently went to Talia. Putting his arm around the girl, the warrior led her away, leaving the dying embers of his friend behind him.
***
Somewhere
"Well?" the hologram of an unknown in a cloak appeared.
"The enemy is eliminated, the task is completed. Had to make a bit of noise, but now no one will have questions."
"Is the body secure?"
"Yes. Ready for extraction."
"Excellent."
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: patreon.com/Granulan