"Next time, be more prudent and take us with you." Bowing one last time, Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice left our briefing room. Clearly feeling satisfaction at my sour expression, the Jedi allowed himself a slight smile that held far too much. His padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, was far less emotional and looked more like a log or a droid. "And now, I bid you farewell. All the best."
"Didn't even push his Force drivel; he's definitely offended." Shorty waved her hand at the Jedi, then returned to her blueprints, slurping juice through a straw extremely loudly and annoyingly. "Well, no wonder..."
"Agreed." Nodding his head, Arkam sat down nearby and did what we were all thinking but didn't dare to do. Snatching the cup from the little Jawa's hands, he pulled out the straw and with a precise throw tossed it into the trash in another part of the hall, then thrust the cup back to the sulking little girl. "The Viceroy is furious, even if the Board of Directors made peace with us."
"That's only the least of our problems," moving a toothpick from one corner of her mouth to the other, Somnia leaned back in her chair, thoughtfully staring at the ceiling, "what bothers me much more is that the enemies bypass our radars and patrols so easily..."
"Spies? Moles? Snitches?"
Everyone answered in a jumble, shrugging. The assumption was obvious, and there was nothing unusual about it. Fortunately, being sentient beings, we realized that like any other large organization, we were full of spooks from all interested parties, or maybe someone was just helping for a coin or being blackmailed... There are many options, and you can never catch them all.
"That part is clear enough," with a lazy wave of her hand, my dear deputy threw both legs onto the table. Crossing her arms over her chest, visually compressing it, Somnia clicked her tongue in dissatisfaction and spat out the toothpick, "I'm talking about how the Sun Guard ended up in our rear as if out of thin air."
"Well, there were no surviving patrols left after meeting them. The bastards slaughtered nearly fifty of ours just to break into the fortress. They came literally out of nowhere..." Growling with dissatisfaction, Sulla stood up from his chair and began pacing back and forth menacingly. "And in the hangar, twice as many died, totaling nearly a hundred and fifty for forty-five guardsmen."
"Shitty trade," clicking her tongue, Miranda sat on the armrest of my chair. Lounging gracefully like an exotic slave, she somehow managed to nestle beside me, even leaning against the back, almost lying down. "But it wasn't an open fight... They struck from behind, in the chaos of battle."
"Pff," snorting, Arkam pretended to calm down, but it was clear to me and everyone else that such things only riled him up and angered him more. The former Mandalorian Commando was in a natural rage because he had been bypassed on his own turf.
"And don't forget about Magnus." Fesat, our permanent logistics officer, scrolled through a report on his tablet. Checking against a bone-crushing schedule, the Ukian frowned harder, for a moment forgetting his modesty and meekness. "His stunt cost us a lot. Nearly eighty cases of severe poisoning. Everyone else who stormed the complex has ruined filters, and the armor must now undergo full chemical decontamination. Lots of allergies, irritations, mental illnesses... And I'm not even talking about banal diarrhea, nausea, and..."
"Enough, we get it, Brag." I smile gently at the logistics officer, who even grew embarrassed by his unusual intensity. Grabbing the tablet, the Ukian hid behind it and continued working, listening to the meeting with one ear. "To sum up, a light skirmish with the Federation's dummies turned into a bloody and difficult battle for us. And the most unpleasant part — no bonuses for ransoming the wealthy big shot."
Recalling the letter sent recently in which Dorian Kuat expressed his full delight and enthusiasm to me, I grimace with dissatisfaction. A spoiled little prick, thinking only of himself. He doesn't give a damn that now Nute Gunray will try to screw us over purely on principle, and given the vindictiveness and cruelty of the current Viceroy of the TF, he won't rest until our corpses are hung on the walls of his palace on Neimoidia.
But returning to little Kuat, who successfully pulled off his little intrigues using our hands... And not just ours, I'm sure of it. Rick Dicker's very involvement in this whole mess hinted that there was a lot mixed in... Clearly something that is not for our level or mind to handle.
"Rick has already contacted me and gave a gentle scolding." Meanwhile, I returned to the discussion, as all these reflections took only a couple of seconds. "Even though we closed the contract, and in full volume at that, the fact that we lost Gunray's little brother... won't count in our favor."
"And what will the sanctions be? Will the ship be built? Why were we doing all this crap anyway?"
"There won't be problems with that," holding my hands out in a conciliatory gesture, I calm the raging team, who clearly didn't like that we would still be punished for what was essentially not our failure, "our new flagship will be ready within two months..."
"The money for its construction is already prepared."
"As is the crew."
Brag and Somnia answered me in sync as soon as I glanced at them. My two deputies on different matters answered so proudly and confidently that smiles broke out on the others' faces. The pair of deputies were clearly proud of the work done; for the full picture, they only lacked giving each other a "high five."
"But our plans for expansion in the Expansion Region will have to be scaled back. As Rick said, the Senate is extremely alarmed by the fact that such a respected sentient died, so it's better for us to sit on the edge of the galaxy for now and not draw too much attention, to avoid running into trouble again." Clasping my fingers together, I nod understandingly at the grimacing faces of my friends. We had spent a long time moving from the Mid Rim further toward the center of the galaxy... And now we have to stop again, throwing years of work back. "On the other hand, we can deal with the Outer Rim and Mid Rim more closely for now. We'll strengthen our influence, increase recruitment, test the fleet in different conditions..."
"We're doing all that anyway, Boss, it's just that pirates in our systems are becoming fewer and fewer..." Leaning toward my ear, Miranda whispered this in the most erotic and filthy voice possible. But my will is strong, and my head is full of sawdust, so I just rubbed my itching ear in response to this pantomime. "Tch."
"Heh, Mira's right. It's getting a bit cramped in our corner of the Republic. Most of the galactic southeast is cooperating with us one way or another and is under our protection, but moving further along the Outer Rim won't work." Bringing a map of the galaxy onto the large screen, Arkam highlighted in bright colors the territories where our brave squad's influence is significant... though it's more appropriate to call us a mercenary army. "To the east and above is Hutt Space. No matter how much stronger we become, we'll never stand against their full might, so that path is closed to us..."
Shifting the map to the southern part of the galactic state, Sulla circled large territories around the planet Eriadu. Although after the death of Tarkin and most of his fleet, the influence of the militarists in the sector fell, it wasn't enough to abandon their entire way of life. Which Arkam briefly explained to us.
"... The moment we step into their territory, the Judicial Forces fleet will come out to meet us. They won't waste time talking or negotiating; they'll just attack." Pressing a button, the Mandalorian turned off the projector and returned to his seat.
"We don't need those kinds of problems," nodding in agreement, I lean my elbows on the tabletop, "but there's no special choice. Better to wait a couple of years, so we'll get to work."
"Yeah. Yes, Boss. Copy that. Okey-dokey."
My deputy friends answered me in a jumble. Most of them didn't care about what was happening. Being fully absorbed in their own affairs and projects, they simply accepted what happened as an inevitability.
No need to look far for an example. Take the little one, who didn't give a damn about Helldivers' global strategy. The main thing was that materials were brought to her on time.
Or the twins. Two peas in a pod... sitting with blank faces and not a care in the world.
And there were many more like that... And only my lovely chief deputy fully understood what I was actually feeling.
When everyone — even the more-than-usually clingy Miranda — left the briefing room, Somnia was the only one who remained alone with me. Locking eyes, we stared at each other in silence for a few seconds before the girl stood up from the table in one motion and, tossing her hair, jerked her thumb behind her back.
"How about a glass?"
***
"We had to sacrifice half a company, but we distracted the enemy forces enough to seize the ship." Striking his fist against his chest, the Sun Guard bowed his head. Standing on one knee, ritually placing his weapon at his feet, the former mercenary and now truly loyal servant of Darth Plagueis — Liam Beho was glad his face was hidden.
Under the thick gold helmet, his lips spread in a satisfied smile, for the task set had been performed perfectly. The plan, thought out to the smallest detail, had worked, and the losses incurred were but a minor sacrifice compared to the fact that they had fulfilled their master's command.
"Besides, we are all warriors, and to fall in battle with our Lord's name on our lips is the highest reward."
Liam's heart beat faster at the mere thought of it. While he was forced to board one of the Dreadnaughts of the former Katana Fleet, his comrades and brothers were honorably performing their duty, fighting truly powerful enemies.
"Good, very good." A quiet, commanding whisper brought the Sun Guard commander out of his abnormal fantasies. Tearing his gaze from the floor, obeying only a slight movement of fingers, the guardsman straightened his back and squared his shoulders. He had long known his master's habits and therefore knew exactly how to behave. "I hope to receive the data as soon as possible... But before that..."
Glancing to the side, using The Force, Darth Plagueis summoned a holoprojector toward him, showing a recording from one of the helmet cameras. The frame froze at the moment when the enemy commander flew into the crowd of Sun Guards, single-handedly breaking the enemy formation and instantly reducing combat coordination to minimum values.
"What do you say? About him." Playing with intonations, Hego Damask leaned a bit closer, as if wishing to examine his vis-à-vis in the smallest detail. Slumping his shoulders, the Muun smiled harshly, clearly reading the burning emotions in his subordinate's soul.
"A good warrior, a decent soldier... But as a commander..." Biting his tongue, for it was not worth stooping to banal insults, Commander Beho lowered his eyelids, replaying everything he managed to see on the recording. "He would have made a good guardsman, maybe even a lieutenant."
"Is that so. Good, very good..." Savoring the spoken words, the Muun rose slightly on his throne and, cupping his chin with thin fingers, began to think aloud, dismissing the guardsman into the corridor with a single flick of his wrist.
Bowing his head again, the leader of the Sun Guard backed out of the office, not daring to straighten his back or exceed his speed. The Lord was in an excellent mood now, so it was not worth spoiling it by neglecting manners.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Liam curled his lips. He did not like his master's close attention to some trash from the edge of the galaxy. The guardsman wanted to say a lot about this garbage, but...
"Calm down, these are just foolish conjectures."
Reciting a short mantra to himself to calm his nerves, Liam turned on his heels with a smooth motion and was about to leave the empty corridor when he almost ran nose-to-nose with his master's apprentice.
"Greetings, Commander Beho," smiling cloyingly with a false mask of hypocrisy and phoniness, Sheev Palpatine tilted his head to the side. Liam never liked the Lord's apprentice, but he didn't even think of saying or doing anything about it. "I see your mission ended successfully?!"
Naturally feigning delight and surprise, Darth Sidious walked around him in a circle, freezing in front of the door leading to the master's chambers. Inhaling through his nose, Palpatine closed his eyes as if enjoying an exquisite taste.
Liam suspected it was something to do with The Force, but he didn't bother with questions; it was better to just answer Sidious and leave the commander's unpleasant company.
"Yes, with your help. The data provided proved correct, and we handled the task easily." Hesitating slightly, Beho decided to ask one question after all. Although a proper subordinate shouldn't have done so, he urgently needed to know the answer. "Master, we could really use such invisible ships with stygium coating..."
"No. That is the only specimen," a new soft smile graced the Sith's face, "and besides... even with our finances, we cannot buy many such ships."
"Understood, then allow me to take my leave."
Nodding one last time, Liam Beho struck his fist against his chest again and, waiting for a return nod, left the company of the Lord's apprentice.
Walking through the dark, gloomy corridors, seemingly created to frighten the uninitiated, the commander of the Sun Guard felt a faint regret that they wouldn't be able to obtain such an incredible ship.
***
"Again!"
A furious growl, more like the roar of a beast than a man, rolled through the hall. Darting around the training room, a creepy figure in a dark, tattered cloak and a mask on his face repeatedly brought two blades down upon his opponents.
A dozen young sentients, of various genders and races, swinging red-colored blades, tried to fend off the man pressing them.
Constantly running, shielding each other, they were retreating more than fighting, and that made the man even angrier.
His two blades, purple and red, blurred into a solid multicolored line, so great was the speed of the strikes. With his feet, he delivered painful and cruel kicks to his young opponents, forcing them to grow angrier, but it seemed that was exactly what he needed.
The eyes of all the teenagers were clouded with yellow. Growling in response to the blows of their strong opponent, they slid in a circle like a wild pack of Scavengers, hoping to spot the perfect moment for a strike; the best option would be the death of one of their competitors at the same time... But such a thing could only be dreamed of, for Mace Windu carefully ensured that every one of the adepts he trained remained alive. Wounded, crippled, exhausted, and humiliated? Yes. But alive.
This thought was the only one hammered into him by his new teacher, an elderly cyborg, a former Bith. And Windu had learned it well, as he no longer wished to experience the consequences of Force lightning and other techniques unpleasant for the body.
Shrugging his shoulders at the memories, Mace casually deactivated his saber and ran his leading hand over his side, where a massive, slumped burn remained.
"Pain can be endured... You've already managed it once and only became more powerful."
These words swung like a gruesome pendulum in his mind; on one side was gratitude for the rescue and the creation of amazing implants that even a strong gifted person could have...
On the other side, for all those tortures, humiliations, instructions... From them, something dark, evil, and cruel woke up in Mace, just like back on Haruun Kal.
"Open! Take this!"
A small Zabrak, barely reaching puberty, tried to prick him with a saber, but instead of parrying or dodging the attack, Windu decided to show the students something new.
Punishment alone wouldn't provide motivation, so he had to show a bit of the carrot to make the foolish adepts practice more thoroughly.
Deactivating his saber and pulling it to his belt with telekinesis, Mace held out his palm, into the center of which the boy's lightsaber struck. The blow was weak, disgustingly weak and pathetic... But he would endure. He would wait and teach them to strike much harder, but now...
"Now it's time for the show."
A moment before the collision, a small film grows in front of the palm, taking the full force of the blow.
"Victory! Eh? How?!"
Tensing his fingers slightly, Mace gripped the saber and, without a second thought, pulled it aside, showing that for truly great users of The Force, nothing is impossible.
With a crackle and hiss, the lightsaber hummed and sparked. Its structure destabilized, and it threatened to go out in the coming seconds, and it was worth it.
With delight, bathing in emotions of awe and fear, Windu clenched his fist — breaking the blade and shoving the kid away with a kick.
"You still have much to learn." Glancing at the silenced youngsters, who had lost their last hope of resistance, Mace curled his lips in a contemptuous smile. "Through pain, patience, and fear..."
***
***
Read early on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Granulan