Despite all my wishes, it took another few days to fully recover, during which I drove myself to exhaustion. Rest? Bed rest? What are you talking about; gym, warm-up, lifting weights, and increased nutrition—that's our theme!
In the process of classes I familiarized myself with what these unique ones had done to me and what they had achieved themselves, what resources they possessed, and so on. As it turned out, besides the "Iskra", the Terrans had a small fleet in their possession. Several escort ships, one of which was a fuel tanker, a pair of corvettes, and several fighter squadrons. Plus, under a hundred small piloted aircraft for forays into the big world.
So that the military didn't lose their touch, raids were periodically made on the fringe worlds. If special spices were needed, they caught smugglers. If money—pirates. Generally, whole groups disappeared without a trace on the far borders of the developed territories, which gave rise to certain rumors about mysticism, heh.
Sometimes the Terrans make contact and actually sell something to those same outer worlds, and occasionally to the inner ones. As they say—like it or not, money is needed; fuel—the few things they directly depend on, because to process it factories are needed that occupy more space than the entire "Iskra" put together. It's simply easier to buy. As are some specific minerals and metals.
Besides fuel the Terrans purchased small batches of beskar through the KTS, selling special, artificially grown crystals for turbolasers. Given that in the whole galaxy there was only one single planet in the form of Christophsis that sold these same crystals in industrial volumes, and at oh-ho-ho prices too, it wasn't hard to assume what profit the KTS squeezed out of this deal. During the wanderings, quite a few similar plantations and "rainy day" stashes were made, to put it mildly.
The Kaminoans were also in the black. Who would have thought, but those characters had been one of the main buyers of medical equipment for a century already. And yet the cloners still don't know who they are trading with. They don't even have a company name. Actually, they don't ask, simply acquiring what they need at a good price. Double profit! High-quality equipment that in the central worlds costs millions is bought for a pittance, and bypassing all taxes, accounts, and other bureaucracy too.
Separately I listened to how reconnaissance works for the Terrans. Although what reconnaissance, those are hamsters, not scouts, because they haul everything into the house they can reach. Secret military technologies? Swipe them! New medicines? Definitely take them! New engines? No, won't take those, no room, but we'll copy the blueprint. New type of concrete? Alloys? Droids? Don't forget to wrap it up!
And so in absolutely everything. What the scouts brought home was carefully taken apart, sorted, studied, and filtered. Because of this one can say that Iskra is a f*cking laboratory and library in one. Two-thirds of the scientists had long ago passed into the stage of "immortals," as those who have enclosed their spirit in a crystal and acquired a mechanical body are called here. And they really are immortal. Because the bodies work on the Force and, in essence, are artifacts, they can slowly self-restore. And to have insurance against all sorts of anomalies, there was a quite ordinary small reactor.
I was strongly surprised when I learned that the oldest person here—is over three and a half thousand years old. The scientist had almost never left the Iskra; he didn't need to. Everything needed is brought to the house, although, as the man admits: "lately, everything new—is well-forgotten old."
After a small intro regarding the Terrans' internal life, I switched to an intro about the world and what I had missed. So, suspecting nothing, and calmly exercising on a treadmill, I listened to the story of my mother lounging against the treadmill's handrails:
"Our raid on the bandit rears attracted unnecessary attention, Shade. They tried to portray this incident from a negative side, including the Jedi, but it didn't work. TNC and specifically RAVEN took responsibility upon themselves, saying they were just cleaning their territories with mercenary forces, and thereby distracted attention from the Mandalorians. As the scouts noticed, the Mandalorian sector's economy meanwhile went up rapidly. Most purchases are registered through RAVEN, and last month the Mandalorians completely refused the services of the Cathar Trade Union."
"Good, very good," I nod. "Everything is going exactly as planned. They aren't being pressed because of the cessation of supplies?"
"No. They simply can't. Since the Mandalorians announced the disarmament of their own forces and the closure of factories, they can't be accused of aggression. The KTS, who shouted loudest of all about the threat, quietly and peacefully eliminated themselves. Well and pressing the Mandalorians with force—is to give them the full right to take up weapons. And that's not counting RAVEN, which is reliably keeping watch and unobtrusively cleaning a blaster, looking askance at any passerby. Given the agreement on the Republic's protection and the recent raid on bandit bases, the organization's reputation within the Republic has formally soared, because of which no one dares to meddle with RAVEN anymore."
"Formally?"
"In fact, the buildup of such power by a private military company, plus the raid, has forced some senators of the planets closest to Tatooine to become very worried. Among them Ryloth. The Twi'leks are tearing the lekku on their heads in attempts to force the Senate to call RAVEN to account and, as a consequence, take the PMC under Republic control, as happened with the Ailons. I remind you, my dear son, that you are using, after all, equipment and weaponry prohibited in the Republic, and openly at that."
"No bastard has squeaked about that yet."
"Well you know... it's hard to squeak against someone having cover from Damask, and from the Pykes, and from the Hutts..."
"Heh."
"The Trade Federation, by the way, has already been using the PMC for a couple of months to guard particularly valuable cargo. One can say that, to top it all off, you conducted a PR campaign."
"Good, and what specifically about disarmament?"
"Oh nothing, just a fiction, everything according to your original plan. As planned, they simply moved their factories to Tatooine, that's all. MandalMotors announced that because of this they can't make military equipment and dismissed two-thirds of the employees, who immediately registered in TNC in corresponding positions. So the research center—is bubbling and boiling like a runaway kettle."
"Wonderful."
"That's where the 'wonderful' news ended, for further the bad news begins. And one worse than the other. You'd better sit down."
"Someone of mine was killed?"
"No."
"Then nothing bad."
"I wouldn't say that," she shook her head.
"Aaaaaalright, suppose so. I'm listening."
"After your 'death'," mother emphasized the word with her intonation. "A certain Jabba the Hutt approached Talia with a business proposal, but was sent on a hiking trip to the erotic zone."
"Good girl, Sun, I didn't doubt you. But isn't that good news?" I look askance at Mom, sensing a catch.
"Too early to rejoice. The slug didn't desist, and approached your business partner with a similar proposal. Damask took control of the situation in a moment, so currently, TNC ships are intentionally doing what they were accused of six months ago."
"Those slugs, eh. Both of them. And what about Talia?"
"She holds your position, but doesn't have the shares. Hego Damask runs everything."
"Not all that bad. Speaking with those f*ggots and returning everything to how it was—won't be a problem."
"Really? Then what will you say to the fact that it was Damask who tried to arrange your funeral? Twice, even."
"That changes things. Where's the information from?"
"During the encounter with the assassins, the Terrans caught one and thoroughly interrogated him. Damask used you, Shade. Raynor, of course, is also quite the character, but the problem is that Hego gave you false information, setting you against the Jedi. Moreover, as I understood, he intercepted the levers of influence on Vizsla from Raynor and was himself pushing Khan to the title of Mandalore. As soon as you fulfilled your role, they hurried to get rid of you."
"What a craaaaaat. Wait, does that mean Damask arranged the CIM's crash?"
"He gave the order. Но Talia arranged the crash..."
Stumbling, I thud onto the treadmill and fly off it backward.
"Motherf*cker... what?!"
"You didn't mishear," Mom approached me from above, then leaned over, blocking the lamp. "I warned you, after all."
"Wait. Are you sure?"
"Yes. It's confirmed information. Yuri conducted a check through the internal organs and found out that the infection could only be from the inside. The Terrans, after my kick, checked the Twi'lek's past and found out she was prepared as a sleeper agent from birth. They had a whole group there. Upon completion of training, Riasha took her; she also provided the specialized education. The Togruta herself believes she bought a simple slave. After training the girl was planned to be placed 'through connections' to high authorized individuals. Actually, she was placed. To you."
"..."
"A good multi-move the Muun pulled off, wouldn't you say? Clever bastards they are."
"To hell with the Muun. Talia... can't believe it..." I cover my face with my hands.
"You'll have to."
"How?! How, Mom? I heard her emotions, heard that sincerity. Even the Force told me Talia didn't want me ill. I... I don't understand how that's possible?!" removing my hands, I look into her "face."
"Good question, Shade. Get up," reaching out her hand, she puts me on my feet. "The strangest thing is that when we fell on the planet, I checked her. The girl really sincerely doesn't wish you any ill. And that puts me in a dead end..."
"Maybe... she was forced?"
"I would have seen, and you would have felt."
"True enough..."
"In any case, I propose eliminating her."
"Mom..."
"So what? It will guaranteed solve the problem."
"What else is known about her?"
"Supposedly, some Zygerrian flew to Ryloth..."
"A Zygerrian?" I jerk, as if from a prick.
"But it's not certain. Just rumors," she moved her hand. "Or do you know something?"
"Know? Damask advertised him to me himself!" I growl, no worse than a beast. "'Come, buy. Magnificent slaves!' I'll bury the bitch!" in a burst of emotions, I smash a gym machine against the wall. "Those scum, those scum..."
"Shade, what's wrong with that type?" Mom placed her hand on my shoulder.
"That filth, essentially, programs slaves. Having received an order, they are unable to act otherwise. I assume that a second personality wakes up in the body by order... or some other junk. In any case, like it or not, you aren't asked, and the order will be executed. Now everything fits... the Force cannot warn of a threat from someone who doesn't want to harm you. And Talia doesn't want to... At least, her real self doesn't."
"And what do you propose?"
"Zero has that Zygerrian's contact preserved. We can try to get to him and shake him thoroughly. If we understand the processing, we'll be able to safely break it," I snap my finger, simulating a mind trick.
"Shade, that's an unsuccessful thought. Talia is dangerous, and you know it perfectly well yourself."
"Yes. Но she is a victim of the situation."
"That doesn't matter. A slave is a slave. All you can do is kick her out. Но given what she knows, that could put a cross on everything we've done. I believe that elimination is the best option."
"Mom. Talia is anything but a slave."
"Why?"
"Simply because she is ready to put common interests above her own. A slave would never go for that."
"You think so?"
"I'm sure of it."
"And if it was a program?"
"I... Alright! Let's check? We have to fly to Tatooine anyway. We'll find out the situation from the inside, see how she showed herself already after my death; besides, I'll talk to her. And if I'm right, we'll find that f*cking hypnotist, and speak with him instead."
"As you wish. You've heard my opinion."
"Could have not mentioned it; I know anyway," I grumble, passing by.
"Heh-heh-heh-heh..."
After that conversation, my path lay to the holocron vault. I needed to refresh my memory, and ideally—find something new.
The vault itself had the look of an armored capsule, covered with a thin layer of beskar. The server room also had separate protection that would easily withstand even a core explosion. All for the preservation of knowledge.
"Hello, Master," the keeper of the holocrons bowed as he met me, a tall man from the "immortals"—he was significantly larger than many of the ship's inhabitants I'd seen. He was dressed in a long black cloak descending to the very floor, covering almost his whole body. "Allow me to express my respect. It is an honor for me to speak with you, and a real joy to see you in good health."
"Geeks," the thought flashes.
"I've come for my holocron."
"Certainly. Please follow me."
Placing a hand on the armored door, the keeper opened the lock with the Force and was the first to go inside.
"In the days spent on the ship, I've only seen you here. Isn't it boring to be at this post day after day for a thousand years?"
"Two thousand, Master. And no, not boring. Knowledge is updated, replenished, all this must be systematized," the keeper explained, walking along the corridor in the walls of which holocrons were built in dense rows. "I not only guard this knowledge, but care for it. Thanks to your techniques, each holocron carries not only knowledge but memories. I often walk through the memories of the past. One can even say that I live in them."
"Show me?"
Stopping, he reached out his hand and unfastening the bolts with the Force, pulled one of the storage units in the form of an octahedron to him, then held it out to me. Taking the holocron, I open it, studying the contents. No f*cking way... And the guys have advanced much further. Something similar I could see only in the Kwa holocrons.
Opening a "file" I come across, I watch, listen, and feel how the memory owner makes contact with a new species of sentient beings. Rather, the species isn't new, the same humans, just adapted to the conditions of life on the planet.
Leaving the memories, I look at the data. Dating, place, race name, features. A full package of data on a specific people. Well yeah, given the accumulated knowledge, there are such "movies" to watch and not stop watching.
"Indeed not boring," I return the holocron to its place.
Going into the main hall, my holocron is handed to me. Scuffed, scratched, with a crack somewhere, but still working. Smiling, I launch it immediately. Wow! So much new stuff, and a quite solid piece was left by Terra and Saros.
Glancing at the children's projections, I can't restrain a smile.
"You remembered Terra, but I haven't heard about Saros once," I draw attention to such a detail.
"The Terrans were a separate part of the Hadian Empire, my Master. Saros was its ruler and remained so in history. We haven't forgotten him, however it was your daughter who organized our order."
"I see."
"How else may I serve?"
"Need records on Force mental techniques."
"Certainly. This way."
Receiving everything needed, I return to my room. A strange feeling—learning from a textbook I wrote myself. But there's definitely something cool about it. The "textbook" itself brought nothing super new; the concept remained the same.
Parallel to self-development, I was engaged in drafting a plan to intercept control over HIT and its subsidiaries. And the problem wasn't even that they wouldn't obey me. No. I have enough authority to intercept control. The problem is specifically in the shares, which, like it or not, go through the Republic, and legally I am—a nobody. No, one can go to court and contest the rights, but that's A—long, and B—a losing variant in advance. And if I just show up and say: "Alright guys, Papa's home!", that will be, de jure, a hostile takeover.
And if you consider that Talia works for Damask... I don't believe in a peaceful solution to the conflict at all. F*ck!
Pacing in circles around the office provided to me, I feverishly estimate how to be. Stopping, I look at Radij standing against the wall. An immortal, assigned to me as an assistant. Like the others, a solid black "mask" instead of a face. His own, unique physique, half a head shorter than me, and due to the body shape it feels "thin." A scout himself, spent half his life in wanderings through the Republic worlds and its fringes. Participated in saving my carcass. Has a key built into his hand for connecting to droid terminals, while being able to interact with machines using the Force, for example deceiving them, thanks to Mechu-deru.
There was a separate story with him, by the way. When the topic arose on the agenda that I needed an assistant, a whole dispute arose among the Terrans about who it should be. And while everyone was arguing, I decided to clarify a couple of questions with the quiet one standing on the sidelines. So he was assigned to me. The man is silent almost all the time, and if he speaks, it's only on an urgent question or at a direct address. Reading his emotions—is practically impossible. Not only is this character practically not alive, he's also as calm as a boa constrictor. Well, almost. The only thing I caught in his emotions was pleasure from a fulfilled assignment.
"Radij, tell me. How was it with your foresight?"
"Everything was relatively good."
"Was?"
"Until your appearance."
"How so?"
"You had better discuss that point with the circle of seers."
"Lead me to them."
Nodding, the man opened the doors and led me through the ship's corridors toward the "meditation center." A dome-shaped projection of transparisteel, with a spacious hall inside and places where one can sit and meditate, contemplating the stars. Once there we found Avalon—the center's head.
"Avalon, sorry to disturb you, but I need to consult with you," I say to the elderly man, pulling him away from a class with children.
"Not at all, it is an honor for me that you ask my advice." The brisk old man bowed. A short beard, a lively look, active gesturing—that's what stood out when talking with the man.
"Radij mentioned that until my appearance everything was fine with your foresight. How should I understand that?"
"You see, Mr. Aero, when we first began to show interest in you, we could no longer foresee the development of events, in particular—events connected with you. You are—like an unaccounted constant that ruins the whole algorithm. The future near you is chaotic; even I catch only disconnected echoes from the possible development of events."
"Exactly what are you 'catching'?"
"Difficult to say... In one case we see death," the old man waved his hand like a balance scale, "in another—life," a wave of the other hand. "I cannot tell you what I saw, because I cannot properly make it out myself."
Thinking it over, I look at the transparent floor, surveying the stars.
"Alright... then let's proceed differently. Do you know the nearest place of Force concentration? No, not that. What are the largest places of Force concentration you know?"
"Dathomir, Malachor, Abeloth, Mortis, Korriban; there are quite a many such places, Mr. Aero. And that's not counting that somewhere in the core of the galaxy the so-called 'Force Planet' is hidden."
"Hm... Tell me about the places you mentioned?"
"Dathomir—a place long saturated with the dark side of the Force. The local aborigines almost to a man practice the use of the Force, in particular—its dark aspect."
"Interesting. Are there ruins of some ancient race on it?"
"Forgive me, Master. I understand what you are talking about, but I have no answer to that question. The aborigines are extremely jealous of all visitors, and we did not have a specific goal for studying that planet."
"Alright, what about Malachor? As far as I know, it was blown up. Or not?"
"No. The planet fell into a hyperspace anomaly; not every adept can fly to it. And even if one flies there, there is no point. After the Mandalorian Wars the planet turned into a lifeless desert in which strongest Force storms rage all the time. Moreover, the anomalies around the system interfere even with ships flying past."
"Next."
"Abeloth. The planet is located in the Maw cluster, near Kessel. Also surrounded by hyperspace anomalies and black holes. You can't just fly to it. Scouts who flew there said there is some kind of spirit on the planet. Also, there is a very high level of the Force there. Absolutely everything is saturated with it—both plants and animals."
"Next."
"Mortis. This planet was created artificially and placed in an octahedron which, like a screen, hides the planet's background. Only once did our scouts manage to penetrate under the shell. According to their report, if not for the protective shell—the planet would burn in the Force like a star in the night sky. They found it by accident. No fauna; flora passes a yearly life cycle in less than a galactic day. At a second attempt to visit this world, they encountered a problem—all passages through the protective perimeter were blocked, which leads to the thought of the planet being inhabited. We didn't break through, but took the planet into note. It's interesting in that the planet has an ideal balance in the Force. It has both the dark and the light side, as well as the unifying one between them."
"Indeed interesting. Но, since the door was closed, the locals clearly aren't waiting for guests," I hum.
"Should I continue listing the planets?"
"That's enough. Tell me, which of the planets is closest to us?"
"Just a moment..." unfolding his arm, Avalon projected a terminal in which he checked our current location. "Closest to us will be Abeloth."
"Thanks."
"Happy to be of service," the old man bowed.
Leaving Avalon to continue with the kids, I go to my room in Radij's company.
"Radij, warn the Captain that I want to speak with him. And call Mom to me."
"Right away..."
***
Already in my cabin I waited for Donovan and Mother to appear.
"Did I miss anything?" Mom entered, spinning a spiked shock knuckleduster on her finger. Whenever she has a free minute, she's constantly stuck in the armory, on the range, in the classroom, or in the sparring arena.
"No, you're on time," I say, sitting on the armrest of a chair opposite Don. Radij meanwhile got distracted from the terminal and approached us, while Mom plopped into a chair. "Anyway. Don, I perfectly well know that you personally and the other Terrans are waiting for some actions or a plan from me, but it's too early. Since I'm having trouble with foresight, I want to visit a Force point, and already after that gather you to discuss the further plan."
The Captain nodded seriously, while Radij made a note in his personal journal.
"I intend to set out for Abeloth. Need a ship and an escort. Mom is flying with me," I slap her shoulder, "and Radij, but another two are needed. And not just anyone; the adepts must be very strong both spiritually and in terms of the Force to calmly survive the Force pressure."
"Everything will be provided."
"While we are flying, you will be required to conduct preparatory work. It is necessary to select and prepare a place where our allies can be suddenly evacuated to from the central worlds. I'm not saying a city needs to be built, but a place must be found and prepared for settlement. And it's good if that place is near a promising industrial center."
"We have many promising planets in the databases, Mr. Aero."
"Choose the one that's harder for a non-adept to reach."
"Everything will be provided. Но, Mr. Aero, may I clarify?"
"Well?"
"Are you going to set out in that form?"
"No... why?"
"We have had a combat hardsuit prepared for you for a long time. We've adjusted it according to your preferences."
"Really? Thanks, we'll take a look soon. More questions?"
"I have none."
"When do we fly out?" Mom glanced at me.
"When ready. Anxiety gnaws at me..."
"Regarding what?"
"Fearing for the home."
"Gnaws, like last time?"
"No. Just a slight unease. But nevertheless. I need to know for sure what's coming."
"Preparing a ship is not a problem. We can fly out in twenty minutes," Radij interjected.
"Do it."
"I'll go get the slippers..." Mom stood up from the chair.
"'Slippers'?" I arched an eyebrow.
"Heavy Anti-Ship weapon. HAS. It was developed back under Hadiya. Or did you forget?"
"No, I didn't forget, but has it really been brought to its senses?"
"I'll say more, this f*ckery was reduced to the dimensions of a rocket launcher. In one cartridge—five shots; it fires so that no one will be left out."
"I'll have to visit your armory later," I glance at Don.
***
R-i-i-i-ght. When Don spoke of a "special" suit, I didn't suspect the suit would be really special, even by my standards. For my now not-so-humble person, a full-fledged compact hardsuit was made, and this time with the use of beskar, along with advanced, already Terran technologies.
This time my undersuit was the main hardsuit. It fit the body tightly, and in some places was literally screwed to the connectors protruding from under the skin. Because of this, taking it off and putting it on without outside help is somewhat problematic. To get dressed, they laid me on a table under manipulators and dressed me in four hands. Essentially, a second skin was just pulled over me; at least—the impressions were exactly like that.
Outwardly the hardsuit had painted stripes identical in color and location to my native pigments. Otherwise, it corresponded to the design of other Immortals and had symmetrical engraved patterns. Tythonian letters were "woven" into the patterns themselves, from the translation of which I'll abstain. Но it looked very beautiful!
Inside the hardsuit, a beskar network of nanofibers was built in throughout the body, to which the protruding protective armor plates were firmly welded. The plates' concept one-to-one duplicated the Immortals' protection, covering everything possible without sacrificing mobility. The relative thinness of these same plates was compensated by their strength and weight. For their dimensions—they were quite heavy, but it's not surprising—with such density.
A network of artificial muscles encircled the body, creating the impression as if I never leave the gym. On the hands were crushgaunts, and in the back a special block with a first aid kit. Separately, a canister with liquid oxygen could be attached to the belt. Thanks to the implants, the suit had the ability to directly saturate blood cells with oxygen bypassing the lungs. In that case I didn't need hoses or a respiratory system; all that's needed is the removal of carbon dioxide, but that came out as expected with the help of those same lungs.
For a test, I tried "breathing" like that. Strange sensations. Very strange. You sort of breathe, but there's no such feeling as a "breath of fresh air." At the same time I'm not suffocating either. Ve-ery unusual.
The next item was the mask. Rather—a helmet-mask. All the electronics of this headgear fit specifically into the face part; the rest of the helmet had exclusively protective functions, which is why the helmet seemed quite miniature and light, for example, compared to a Mandalorian helmet.
That's where the built-in functions end and additional ones begin. I can re-equip the base configuration at any moment. For example—hang an additional layer of armor on myself. Or acquire combat bracers with the same flamethrower, which I actually did. As practice showed, the Force is good, but it's not a panacea, so now I have a mini rocket and a flamethrower in both bracers, plus beskar vibro-knives lurked in separate cases in quick access. Three disk mini grenades appeared on the belt. Well, just in case. Better to have them and not need them, than... well, you get it. No f*cking way I'm getting into something like that again!
Checking the gear, I switch to clothes. Pants with armor inserts, analogous to those I wore. On my feet I put on boots with a high shaft, and a quite thick corrugated sole. On top a kind of tank top, over which sat a long cloak with a high collar, without sleeves.
What efforts it took me to fight off all the other rags, only the Force knows, as they tried repeatedly to dress me up and thereby highlight me. Initially I blamed Hadiya, but it turned out that not only she was to blame, but also Terra. My daughter very much loved all sorts of pompous clothes, and though deservedly, for f*ck's sake, not in everyday life! And Saros went there too.
So they offered me all sorts of things to try on. No thanks, as for being a king, I didn't sign up for that. I'll bring order, sort out all this mess, vent my soul, and then I can calmly go on vacation. Or better straight into the Force, it's always calmer there.
Lastly I was issued a pair of Forcesabers. The weapons obeyed with reluctance, being a bit capricious, but they worked. The connection with the real master who made it and wore it for quite a long time told.
So I went to the hangar already in full combat gear. Reaching the place, I survey the Unifying Force adepts given to me as help, and thoughtfully rub my chin. As one can assume, these were Immortals. Counting Mom and Radij, four—let's say—androids were already flying with me, among whom I was the only organic.
"With a company like this, one definitely shouldn't show up at guarded facilities... Especially on Coruscant," I joke to myself, and laugh. "On the other hand, these guys will crawl anywhere without any permission. The scene with the hospital and my rescue—is clear proof of that."
"Ship ready for takeoff," Radij reported.
Glancing at the vessel in the form of an elongated uneven popsicle, with protruding "containers," I approach the hull and scratch the rust with my finger.
"And what is this 'wonder'?"
"Corellian light freighter model 'Barloz'. Four turrets with a pair of laser guns on the upper, lower, and side hemispheres. Class 0.9 hyperdrive, equipped with shields and a long-range communication system. The model was released three hundred years ago; the assembly lines stopped eighty years ago. This ship is formally—one hundred and three years old, but due to the massiveness of the release there are still very many of them flying through the galaxy today. Due to its simplicity, appearance, and number, these and similar ships serve as an excellent cover. For added authenticity, we intentionally added fake traces of patches and rust. Inside, specifically this model carries significant changes."
"Hm..." leaning over, I look at similar ships, and they all look like leaky troughs with engines. "Original camouflage."
"Yes, we don't particularly bother with that. We buy a popular batch of ships every hundred or two hundred years, and use them. Now, popularity is being gained by CR corvettes. We intend to take some."
"Alright. Everyone on board, take off."
Rising, I pass by an open door leading to the warehouse. Stopping mid-step, I back up.
"Mom? Who are you going to arm?"
"Hm?" she peered into the warehouse. "No one. This is for us. Just in case it comes in handy."
"Who do I have to talk to," I sigh, passing further.
While flying to Abeloth, I continued to practice half-forgotten techniques and simultaneously learn new ones. Mom acted as the test subject. And if with mental abilities everything was more or less on level—I at least understood what I was doing—then Mechu-deru for me was like a dark forest.
For it's not enough to feel mechanisms; one must understand what one feels, which is why on top of Force classes, a tablet with a base on electrical appliances was added as a bonus. Seeing how I was twisting the unfortunate textbook, Radij tried to help the "unintelligent primate" and explained some points on his fingers. Is it hurtful? Definitely not. I am primarily a fighter, a bit of a pilot, a bit of a manager, a bit of a medic, and I can also sing songs! But picking at these little pieces of iron... No, that's definitely necessary to know how to do, especially in our time, but I have eternity ahead of me to learn that. That same Radij spent two hundred years only messing with iron!
Sometimes, now and then, thoughts slid to TNC, HIT, the Terrans, Talia, the whole situation in general. Admittedly, I didn't want to think about it. And so as not to think about it, I had to find something to do.
Using this rule, I didn't notice myself how we reached the necessary sector.
"Entering the anomalies," the pilot's warning sounded.
Huddled in the cockpit, we just watched the haze of hyperspace and listened to our sensations. Hiding in all sorts of f*ck-offs, the Terrans had become adept at crawling through where even smugglers would be hesitant to go. And now I was witnessing the result of such practices firsthand. The pilots treated it as something routine, while Radij just stood, watched—and you just try to determine what was in his head. Mom meanwhile preferred to self-isolate in the armory, since there was nothing to do in the cockpit, and the mentioned anomalies didn't manifest themselves in any way and generally everything was fine.
"Strange," the second pilot suddenly said.
"What exactly?"
"If the computer is to be believed, we are passing through a kind of corridor. It feels as if the black holes and anomalies were placed here on purpose."
"Hm..."
And here it is—Abeloth. A planet hidden among black holes, disrupted hyperspace paths, and gravitational anomalies. Outwardly nothing special, a planet like any other. Clearly there are vegetation-rich regions, plains, and seas. No ocean, just as there are no polar caps. No large mountain ranges either, just minor ones. One could say we were flying to a resort, if not for one thing!
Even while on approach, our whole company felt the growing Force background. And where there's concentrated Force, there's mutations clearer than from radiation. The Force background itself made me doubt my venture, as it was too high, even by Tython standards.
"Have you been on planets with a Force background?" I look at the Terrans.
"I have," the first pilot raised a hand.
"Where?"
"On Korriban."
"And?"
"Empty. The Sith tomb literally looks like a tomb. A dead planet, overflowing with the dark side of the Force."
"Where else have you been?"
"Malagarr. A planet in the unknown regions. Drawing resources, the locals turned the planet into one big radioactive reactor, from which they died out very quickly. Currently the planet has a serious radioactive background in conjunction with the dark energy of the Force."
"What kind of madness is there in the galaxy," I shake my head. "But have you been on just a living planet, oversaturated with the Force?"
"No."
"Then, tourists, listen up. Briefing: be on edge all the time. Look around, beware of every bush! And most importantly—don't lose sight of your own. And if something seems off to you—hit first, and only then be curious. All clear?"
"Yes."
"Excellent. Then land."
Descending to the planet and leaving the ship, we look around. Clear weather, good lighting, optimal atmosphere for breathing. Low sparse trees, low grass, very many bushes with berries. And no living things.
"It's suspiciously quiet here," Mom commented.
"Let's see how the planet responds to the Force," I reply, extending my hand and gathering a Force sphere over it. Expecting some reaction from the local climate, I increase the sphere's diameter, filling it with the Force, then throw it into the sky where it explodes.
Despite this, the planet did not react in any way.
"Strange. At the very least, the beasts should have felt the surge," I stand next to my mother.
"And if I do?" she proposed, and formed a dark Force sphere. The new firework didn't bring any result; the energy dispersed to the sides, but instead of giving rise to a storm or some other nastiness, it simply settled down. "Hm..."
"As one angel with horns said, 'suuuuspicious'."
"Tell me about it. Where are we going?" Mom turned to me.
Pushing out several Force waves, I force them to overlap each other and go as far as possible. Но before the waves reached the end, a strong wind hit us. Feeling a strange presence, I reflexively drew my sword and began looking around.
The others reacted exactly the same way. Radij was the only one who looked just as calm. Standing right behind me, he took the sword from his belt and turned his back to me, surveying the surroundings.
"Why is so little known about this planet?" I ask the others quietly.
"No data," Radij replied. "The records of this place are eight thousand years old. Part of the information was lost in the Mandalorian Wars."
"Outsidersssss," a new gust of wind brought a strange voice. It was hissing, interested and, by the sound of it, a woman was speaking. "Who are you?"
"We are Terrans. And who are you?" I address the void, searching for the spirit.
But no answer followed. Moving my gaze over the surroundings, I feel vibrations and turn sharply to their source. Before us stood a woman. Tall, a head taller than us all, semi-naked, in only a light yellow dress. Long white hair, pale skin, ordinary human ears, a pleasant kind face, fragile physique, and bright yellow eyes. Literally completely yellow, and glowing at that.
"I am the Great Mother."
Exchanging a glance with Aala, I take a step forward. Judging by the sensations, the entity before us is clearly not as simple as she seems, and she has no less power than Aala and I put together.
"Mother of what?"
"Of everything. You are late," she frowned and walked in our direction.
"You were waiting for us?"
"Naturally. You flew here before. Then you refused to accept my gift. If you have returned, it means you have changed your mind?"
"Um..."
"How was it? Speak politely with psychos..."
"Lady," I take a step back, "I am very glad you are so welcoming, but are you confusing us with someone?"
"No. You are Terrans, aren't you? And you have flown here. That means you returned for strength," she approached quite close, but I took another couple of steps back. "You came to receive protection. You sought it then, you seek it now. Go east, and accept my gift..." she said, and dissolved, flying like a ghost through Radij and me.
"Nothing is clear, but ve-ery interesting," I survey the others.
"And I'd already forgotten what kind of junk can be seen in a Force point," Mom was indignant, putting away her weapon. "Shade, maybe to hell with this venture? Let's go to another planet."
"You proposing a walk through a Force storm? Or a chat with the spirits of Korriban?"
"Convinced. No matter where you spit, there's junk everywhere."
"At least it doesn't crush here, and the Force is in balance."
"True enough."
"Someone return to the ship and keep it in low orbit over us. In case of anything, it must be ready to pick us up."
One of the Terrans nodded and hastily returned on board.
"Let's go."
"East? Are you serious?"
"By a coincidence of circumstances, that's exactly where I saw two strongest Force sources."
Watching the ship soar into the sky and ensuring the connection was stable, we set out.
"You know Mom, there's a surprisingly stable Force balance here," I say, tossing a Force sphere from one hand to the other. "Not only does nothing happen, but it's very easy to draw on the Force."
"Well yeah. Like taking a breath of fresh air after a walk through Nox," she agreed and, snapping her fingers, lit a spark.
"Radij, how are the sensations?"
"Very strange."
"Laconic. And you?"
"The same," the adept nodded. "Lightness is felt. And... peace. There is an ideal balance here."
"Exactly."
Having walked for ten minutes, I draw attention to another detail:
"Does everyone know we're being shadowed?" I ask, as if about the weather.
"Since the ship," Mom added. "And with every minute the beasts are only becoming more numerous."
"I propose not tempting fate and running a bit."
Not seeing objections, I nod to my mother, and she is the first to switch to a run, and then a sprint. Rushing after, I feel the beasts start stirring too.
Running through the sparse forest, we were distancing ourselves from the dangerous aggressive mass when right in front of us a pack of winged creatures flew across our path. Truly creatures, physically, no other word fits. Large as cows, webbed wings, awkward mangled bodies, each with one large black eye.
"And there's the fauna..."
No sooner had I intended to ground them than a chain of unexpected events occurred: these beings screeched wildly and launched a Force wave at us, forcing me to set a barrier. While I was protecting us, Mom grabbed the whole pack and slammed them against the ground thoroughly. Having good Force resistance, the beasts survived the impact, but here I joined the fight.
Drawing a pair of swords, I race through the struggling creations like a whirlwind, severing the brown, chitin-covered flesh.
Parallel to this, the plants came to life. The nearest bushes sharply unfurled their branches, and showed mouths hiding in them. The Terrans without hesitation arranged a mass felling, burning and mincing the hostile flora. And Radij also scattered incendiary grenades, forcing the survivors to scatter in horror.
"Everything's working quite harmoniously here, don't you find?" I comment, surveying the sliced corpses.
"Think they were set on us?"
"I assume so. Come on, let's move further before someone else brings trouble. The faster we find out what's needed, the faster we leave this place."
***
As we approached the Force sources, contrary to my expectations, no negative effects arose. When very little remained, we unexpectedly came out to ruins. Overgrown, buried under the earth, but still recognizable.
"Where have we ended up?" Mom asked quietly, surveying the protruding remains of once-great structures.
"This was a city," Radij replied immediately. "We entered it ten minutes ago."
"Do you recognize the ruins?"
"No."
"But I do," I sigh. Stopping, I point my hand to a protruding fragment, then catch it with the Force and pull it out of the ground. "This is Celestial architecture. I remember this from the Kwa holocron when I was taking it apart."
"Celestials?! What are they doing here?"
"If I remember correctly, there were no anomalies in this region on the old maps. Но there was the capital of this people, which was given a good thrashing. Given the Force level, the location, and this," I point to the fragments, "there is a suspicion we've found their home world. At least, in such a background life could easily be born having phenomenal Force abilities," dropping the stone back, I am the first to go further. "I remember how Dalien considered the theory of Tython's artificial origin. What if Tython is the Kwa people's attempt to repeat this planet?"
"Sounds... delusional."
"Well, what if? Both use the Unifying Force. Both here and there is a high background, similar effects. The difference is that Tython reacted negatively to a balance violation, while here it's elevated to an absolute."
"Shade, who knows what was back then, we'll never know. And it's unlikely this is that same planet; it would have been found long ago."
"Mr. Aero's opinion is not without sense," Radij interjected. "Essentially—currently we are in the center of the Maw. And if considering Mr. Aero's theory, one can assume this planet was hidden purposefully. As Tython was hidden in its time."
So, discussing various conspiracy theories, we progressed through the ruins. And the further we went, the clearer they became. Houses rose from the ground, fences appeared, streets, statue fragments.
"You know Shade, maybe you're right," Mom commented, already not so confidently.
Here something appeared ahead. A spacious overgrown courtyard, in the center of which stood and, most amazingly—worked a huge fountain, forty meters in diameter. Only the water in it was black. Approaching closer, I feel the dark side's influence. Discomfort appeared, and when we approached practically point-blank, effort had to be applied to maintain balance within oneself. The gushing energy simply didn't have time to disperse; we were too close.
Upon closer examination I determined that it wasn't exactly water, but rather... damn, I don't even know what to compare it to. But it's very similar to the waterfall I saw in the "Chasm" on Tython, only civilized and many times more powerful.
"Don't approach," I say to the others. If Mom can still normally handle something like this, I don't have such confidence in the others.
Taking another couple of steps, I lean against the barrier, peering into the water. A whisper appeared on the edge of my mind, and a lump rose to my throat... Force... Enormous, simply unimaginable Force flowed before me, and it could be touched!
"There it is—my gift," the already familiar voice sounded near us. Turning, I see that same woman. And this time, she was material. Perhaps, if not for the general background, we would have felt her, but here you don't hear your neighbor, not to mention any... suspicious individuals.
Approaching the fountain with a cup in her hands, the woman stepped over the barrier and, through the air as if by steps, descended lower, approaching the gushing spring from which she filled the cup. The substance she was in least of all resembled water, or even goo, as it completely didn't cling to her clothes, leaving them in their original dry and clean state.
"You sought the Force, you have found it. Step into the spring, drink," turning around, the cup was held out to me. "And attain power equal to mine."
I look at this business, feel an underlying desire pushing to dive headfirst into this mass, and realize... what a load of crap!
"Lady. You're offering me to drink who knows what, who knows where, and from who knows whose hands. Who the f*ck are you?"
"Is that really important?" she lowered the cup, arching her brows. And the voice is ve-ery specific, I'd even say—charming!
"Yes!"
"I am Abeloth. The Great Mother. And I offer you a gift. You will attain eternal life, as will you, dead in iron flesh," she switched to my escort. The Terrans at this, as if in sync, took a step back, and Mom crossed her arms on her chest. "You flew here before. You sought strength capable of protecting your people. And I said you would return, one does not simply refuse my gift. Accept it!"
"Right... Inhale-exhale."
"Lady. Please, don't f*ck with my head. I am a seasoned being. I've had my brains twisted, and my heart torn, and my soul tried to be shaken out. That's first," I say and step away from the spring, under Abeloth's frowning brows. "And second, we are here for another reason. Everything is fine with us; I don't need the Force. I just want to look into the future, that's all! And your... sorry, home, turned out to be the nearest place of Force concentration. I sincerely apologize if we disturbed you, but please, keep your treats to yourself, and we'll be moving on, I think," passing by my mother, I take her shoulder and pull her after me.
"You... reject my gift?!"
"Not so much reject, we just have no need for it. We're here for another reason."
Vainly, I probably said that. The woman's frowning face distorted into an angry grimace, and began to lose its charm.
"I... I wanted to accept you into the family! Protect! I! The Great Mother Abeloth!"
"Lady, dear, beautiful... hic," I'm a bit stunned by the ongoing transformation. The mouth turned into a sagging maw filled with sharpest teeth. The eyes blackened completely, and the fingers began to elongate and turn into tentacles. "Er, I already have a beloved mom, and she's standing right next to me," I slap Aala on the shoulder, who has pulled spiked knuckledusters onto her fingers. "And I wish you not to be upset, you'll definitely still find your family, a husband and... and... don't worry... so... much..." at the end, my voice became very quiet, as the being no longer even remotely resembled a human. Now, it was some kind of amorphous mass, with black eyes, tentacles and a huge maw. And having dropped the cup, this mass went for us, and my tailbone started insistently whispering that things were bad. "Ahem, Abeloth, forgive me, I didn't want to offend you, please, let's not get heated, and if you want, we can sit down, have a heart-to-heart, reach an agreement? Maybe we haven't ripened for your gift yet, look, another couple of thousand years will pass, and then..."
Abeloth stopped at the very threshold of the fountain, and I looked nervously at the Terrans prepared for battle. Only those were looking not in our direction, but at the representatives of the local fauna that had run up to us. And all had suspiciously glowing yellow eyes.
"Oh... vainly you didn't take a grenade launcher," I whisper very, very quietly, so only Mom hears it, and she imperceptibly nods in agreement.
However, no attack followed. We stood, playing a staring game, and then Abeloth spoke:
"Want to see the future?" she stepped over the barrier... in the sense, flowed over, and slowly headed toward us.
"To be honest, not really anymore. Vague doubts torment me, specifically about the near future..."
"Don't be afraid... I will show it to you..." her eyes narrowed predatorily, and it was as if the wind were knocked out of me.
Flying back as if from a blow to the chest, I jump to my feet and look around. What the?! Around some kind of devilry was going on. Dark silhouettes of humans and aliens passed by me. Monotonous silhouettes of houses, woven from darkness, and a давящая гнетущая silence.
In an attempt to orient myself, I look around feverishly, and here it dawns on me. This is... Mandalore! Silhouettes of houses, Mandalorian armor... When Mandalorian dialect reached my ears, I was finally convinced.
"Alright then, steady," I take myself in hand and, putting away my weapon, walk down the street. "So where has this taken me?"
But no answer could be found. And then time suddenly as if accelerates, the silhouettes begin to flash and disappear, leaving me alone in endless darkness.
"I remember, been through this," I snort, rubbing my chest from discomfort. The dark side presses, tries to find a loophole and shake the scales in my soul, but in vain. For now, in vain.
I felt this unpleasant pressure right on my skin. The dark side of the Force treated me like a foreign element that stands out from the general picture. That means—disorder. But what will I see? What will I hear, or feel? Good question...
Trudging through the darkness, I unexpectedly hear a child's crying. Right... and from where? Stopping and looking around, I see a crib.
"Suuuuspicious," the thought flashes.
"I'm already not liking my future," I comment quietly, looking around and approaching the crib. Only I don't manage to reach it before I see a blurred silhouette ahead of me. It appeared practically out of nowhere, approached the crib, and leaning on the edge just looked into it.
And then, a sharp cry rang out:
"Talia!"
Turning sharply, I see another blurred silhouette holding a pistol to its chin. Despite everything, I tried to maintain composure and calm, watching everything detachedly and with a slight note of indifference.
Only, the Force knew what to press and where to hit. The crying turned into hysteria, and from the other side alien emotions began to reach me. And to this I was already not prepared! Boundless fear, mixed with hatred and seasoned with hysteria.
"What kind of new tricks are these?!" I recoil back.
"Forgive me..."
A shot boomed and the falling silhouette dissolved before even reaching the floor.
"Motherf*cker... again?" I'm angry, bypassing the "place" where the body should have fallen. My fists clenched; the dark side found a loophole and tried to shake me. Но the mind won. These are all visions.
And then the real trash began. It was as if a nail were driven into my head. Events raced forward. Mandalore's war with the Banking Clan, then with the Hutts, and finally the Republic. In seconds I scanned the bombardment of Concord Dawn, felt the emotions of all those doomed residents.
Unable to resist such a mental blow, I fall to my knees. The picture changed, and now became stretched. Very clearly, as if in slow motion, a Terran ship was falling from the sky, straight onto Tatooine. And at that moment a battle was going on on the planet between Terra's followers and Jedi.
"Weakling..." I hear a whisper. "You are too weak! You cannot withstand," a voice sounds from everywhere, taking away emotions. In my chest again the familiar feeling of a rope stretched to the limit... "Here is your future... here is what awaits you! You need strength... My Strength... Accept my gift..."
Detaching myself, I shake my head slightly. Right... these are delusions. Mirages, visions. This isn't there...
"It will happen."
"No..." rising from my knees, I wipe a stray tear.
"Everyone hates you... you will not be left in peace... and destroyed..."
Smiling with the corners of my lips, I begin to laugh.
"Nice try, Abeloth. Really nice. But I've been through this already," straightening up, I look up. "Thank you for the help. But further, I'm on my own..."
Gathering my will into a fist, I take myself in hand, dispersing the darkness gathered around me. A pair of bright yellow eyes blacken, and I tumble out of the visions, finding myself in the very same position in which I flew into the subconscious. The darkness receded, and Abeloth's yellow eyes blackened.
"Shade?" Mom worried, having felt changes in me.
"Everything's fine. Thanks, Abeloth!"
The stunned look of my interlocutor was balm to my soul.
"Lancer, receive," I call the ship.
"On the line," the pilot responded immediately.
"Get us out of here."
"Accepted."
"No... no! You will remain here!" Abeloth came to her senses and unleashed an enormous Force pressure on us.
I don't know what she tried to achieve, trying to paralyze us, and basically don't wish to know. Setting a barrier with Radij, I see his partner keeping the beasts at a distance from us. Mom, meanwhile, threw a pair of pyrokinetic spheres at Abeloth and ran herself. Having dropped the Force pressure, Abeloth had to evade the blow, but it didn't work. Knowing how Mom works, I jerk the entity to the side, right under her sword, but she resists. The sword only grazes the being.
Intercepting Mom's arm, Abeloth tries to tear her arm off, but I join the fight with a kick. An attempt to push Abeloth with the Force failed, but the leg fully reached the target and hit the face, leaving a clear stencil of an armored boot on the plastic mug.
Breaking free, Mom hits with an uppercut, pushing the entity away again. Jumping up, I try to cut down the entity that has lost its balance, but she catches me in the air. So, having fixed myself, I end up in a stalemate. I can't be crushed, but I can't get out myself either. Applying all my strength, covered in beads of sweat, I hold the barrier restraining me to the limit. Mom meanwhile gives Abeloth no peace, while the Terrans continue to exterminate the beasts.
Here Aala tosses her sword and, instead of making a swing, grabs Abeloth by a tentacle, pulls her toward her and gives her a good blow with a knuckleduster in the maw. Abeloth herself, holding me, plus controlling the beasts, is not capable of acting with the Force also on Mom. Rather, she acts, but clearly lacks the power, which Mom uses, pressing the incomprehensible creation.
The stalemate was broken by the arriving starship. With a strike from the air, thinning the crawling crowd, the pilot bought time for the Terrans and Forcesabers immediately flew at Abeloth. Distracted already by the new threat, I am released from the cage.
Landing on the ground, I see Abeloth throw Mom straight into the spring, but intercepting her with the Force right in flight, I pull her toward me. At that moment Radij presses the malevolent creation, but himself ends up in a Force cage, so that the Immortal's armor begins to slowly crumple like a tin can.
Shifting my swords, I race toward the creation at full steam. Jumping up, I hit with Force lightning with all my might, but it hits Tutaminis, which redirects the energy back at me. Flying away from Abeloth as if from an explosion, slightly charred I land on the ground and see Mom flank her from behind. A second, and the being is severed first in half, and then again, right in the air.
The descending Lancer opened its ramp, onto which the squad members hurried to clear out one by one. I jumped in last, finally scattering the beasts with a Force wave.
"Everyone whole?"
"Yes."
"Stuffing's fine."
"You bet! Good stretch," Mom stretched, while Radij was already disconnecting the dented armor plates from himself.
"Tch. When we return, find everything you can on this f*ckery," I say to Radij, walking deep into the ship.
"And where are you going?"
"To the comms center. We're returning to the Iskra."
***
Abeloth Planet. The same time
Having emerged from a cave hidden in the forest, a lone figure lifted her head to the sky, where the trail of the departing ship was visible.
"Until the next meeting, Terrans," the being whispered, looking with a smile into the heavens.
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: patreon.com/Granulan