Muunilinst. Meeting Hall
Surveying those gathered for the emergency meeting, Damask mentally selected words for the speech. The affairs that had spun up were very bad and required immediate measures. Not only had Aero survived, but Talia had also gone out of control. And knowing this home-grown incubator Force-sensitive, Damask understood—Shade would not keep him waiting and very soon he could be expected with a return visit.
Damask didn't doubt that he had enough stupidity to show up right on Muunilinst. The only question was whether Aero would come alone, or with a whole garrison. In any case, it didn't make things easier for Darth Plagueis.
The most annoying thing was that they could only be stopped by force. No pressure, neither political nor personal—would help here; on the contrary, it would only make them angrier. Besides, the Force hints at coming problems. Every hour the gut feeling troubles him more, and this night Damask was tormented by nightmares of a battle with Jedi.
"One thing is pleasing, Aero still doesn't know who I really am and consequently can't tell anyone about it," the Muun thought, activating the microphone.
"I greet you, colleagues," Damask began, scanning the gathered board of directors of the Banking Clan. "I am very glad you responded so quickly to my request for a meeting."
"Father, what happened that you announced an emergency meeting?" San Hill, the first after Damask, moved his hand in time with the words. Which is not surprising, as San was a direct descendant of Damask himself. As Plagueis himself noted: "Pity he's without the gift." This served as the key reason why Damask tried not to initiate his son into the Sith plans.
"I will try to be brief and laconic. Gentlemen! Assets are being squeezed out of me personally in a hostile manner, which are on our common balance. This threatens losses of billions of credits!" Damask began to preach, while all the Muuns frowned. "But! Never mind those billions, it's not even about the money. You understand what reputation losses we will suffer. It will be a simply colossal blow to our authority. Our borrowers not only refuse to return the money, but are also squeezing out the business!"
"Phenomenal insolence," a quiet, admiring comment rang out.
"Unheard of!" San Hill exclaimed in his hearts.
"And who is this suicide?" Lo Vapit, a young Muun engaged in public relations, asked businesslike.
"Shade Aero. My former partner. We started a common business, developed by him but financed by me. Apparently, Aero decided to take the business into his own hands. He has serious forces under his command, in particular—the newly formed private military company RAVEN, as well as the entire Mandalore fleet. In view of this I, as a matter of urgency, ask for the Banking Clan's board of directors' sanction to use our company's collections department."
"Mr. Chairman, what part of the fleet do you want to take to solve this problem?"
"Half."
"So many? Are you sure?"
"Completely. I know perfectly well what forces the debtor possesses, given that they were built up on our own money."
"In that case, we will not object. Right, gentlemen?" San Hill surveyed the others. Approvingly-confirming remarks sounded from different sides.
"Then I would like to move to some details regarding this incident. First—it is necessary to block the following monetary paths..." Damask began to list the list of urgent measures to be taken to localize the problem.
But no sooner had the meeting ended, just as the Muuns began to disperse, than Damask was stopped right in the corridor by people in Judicial Department officer uniforms.
"Mr. Hego Damask, correct?"
"Yes. And you are quick," Damask nodded approvingly. "I would like to write an application about the actions of a terrorist group on Tatooine, and also register an agreement for conducting a large-scale operation."
"Um..." the officers exchanged looks. "Forgive us, Hego Damask, but we have come for another reason."
"Really? Which one?" the Muun was surprised.
"According to our information, you are in connection with the crime lord Jabba the Hutt."
"The Hutts control an enormous space. We are forced to have a conversation with them," the Muun tilted his head.
"Be that as it may. Но the fact that you are transporting contraband—that is another matter."
"What?!" Damask was stunned. "Is this some kind of joke?!"
"Ships of your company were arrested. All trails lead to you. We are forced to ask you to come with us."
But before Damask could open his mouth for an answer and put this trifle in its place, the sound of running feet rang out, and a group of correspondents jumped out from around the corner.
"Mr. Damask, Mr. Damask!"
"Aerrrrroooo," the Muun growled mentally, looking at this pack. Not that Hego couldn't get rid of these small fry, but they'd suck a lot of blood.
"Mr. Damask, is it true that you are in connection with the crime lord Jabba the Hutt?"
"Mr. Damask, is it true that you are accused of..."
"Mr. Damask, please comment," the reporters chirped over each other, photographing and filming the Muun from different sides.
"Alright, everyone disperse!" a Judicial Department officer took control of the situation. Pushing the reporters aside, a squad of soldiers organized a corridor through which Damask was led along the corridors.
"Aero... you won't die an easy death by my hand," the Muun thought maliciously, keeping his face before the cameras.
"All accusations are false!" the Muun said to the running reporters. "This is slander and a frame-up, which we will definitely sort out."
And somewhere back there, the surprised members of the Banking Clan's board remained standing.
But the surprises didn't end there. They hadn't managed to lead the Muun to the police cars before an entire squad of Jedi came to meet them from the parking lot. And their appearance already really made the Muun tense up.
"What are you doing here?" the Judicial Department officer exclaimed in surprise.
"We have come for Hego Damask. My apologies, but he will have to come with us." a Devaronian spoke.
"On what grounds?" Damask himself intervened in the conversation.
"There are serious suspicions that you are a Sith, Mr. Damask."
At that moment in Plagueis's thoughts the tabletop holo-chess game standing in his apartments cracked and broke apart.
"Alright..." the Muun thought maliciously, conceding this round to Shade. "Moving to Plan B."
Some time earlier. Jedi Temple
"Master Raynor!" a Jedi Knight shouted, bursting into the Master's room.
Jumping from surprise, Raynor spilled part of a freshly brewed bracing herbal infusion on the floor. Looking sadly at the spilled drink, the Master looked with indignation at the Jedi who had disturbed him.
"Well what happened now, Rodi?"
"Master Yoda is urgently summoning you to the council tower."
"I'll soon become a Sith myself with you guys," the Master thought to himself, phlegmatically unwrapping a pack of sweet tubes. The last six months had practically squeezed all the juices out of the head of the Jedi shadow department. These chases after invisible enemies, surveillance of Mandalorians, more rumors of unknown Force-sensitives started crawling. And they hadn't even sorted out who visited the Concord Dawn capital.
"Tell him—I'm coming," the Master threw out, bringing a tube with cream filling to his mouth.
"But teacher. Master Yoda emphasized that it is very urgent."
"Not a minute of peace," the Master grumbled to himself, setting the snack aside. "Alright, let's go."
Once in the corridor he clarified with his former apprentice:
"So what's happening?"
"I couldn't say, Master."
"And why am I not surprised..."
Having gone up to the Jedi High Council tower, Master Raynor expected to see or hear anything from another dark artifact to a new political disaster. Но for what fate had prepared for him, the Sith hunter was not ready. Opening the doors, the Master met the gaze of Shade Aero. Or rather, his hologram, projected from the floor in the center of the hall.
"Hello, Raynor," the dead Tythonian smirked.
"Aero... I knew you weren't that easy to kill."
"Why?" this... this... hmyr portrayed surprise on his face. Raynor couldn't find other words. Insolent, uncontrolled, and very dangerous. Only the Force knows what is in this relic's head, and what he is capable of.
"You were already buried twenty-five thousand years ago, and you are still alive. The only variant in which I'll be sure you are dead is when I personally cut you in half."
"How cruel, Master. And yet I've come to you with the purest intentions!" this fossil pronounced importantly.
"You? And with good intentions?!" Raynor froze, not reaching his chair. "Funny."
"Raynor, you offend me. Where does such negativity come from, Master? What have I done to you?" Shade mock-surprisedly crossed his arms on his chest.
"Since you appeared, Sith artifacts have been surfacing here and there constantly. At the very least, it looks suspicious, don't you think?"
"Um... First of all, that's slander; I might not be white and fluffy, but kind and sweet—fact. Second, have you heard of such a thing as 'presumption of innocence'? The burden of proving criminal guilt lies on the accuser! And no other way. And he who isn't caught, isn't a thief," Aero spread his arms. "So please go somewhere far away with your accusations, and don't spoil my life, please.
"If you are innocent, why are you running away?"
"I'm not running away. You know my address, and the doors are always open—fly in. Но to you—I definitely won't fly for a visit. Not only did you not want to let me out the first time, but in the Judicial Department you kept piling accusations for everything. You know, I am very sensitive and vindictive. I still remember how when I was thirteen my stash of favorite bars was stolen! And my own girlfriend stole them. Но you aren't my girlfriend, so don't count on forgiveness from me."
"Enough of your arguments," Yoda intervened in the conversation. "Past to stir up no need, behind it has remained. Aero. A message important you have brought, with Sith connected. To listen to you we have gathered. To tell I ask what you know."
"Thanks, Yoda. So, about the news... While I was 'dead'," Shade emphasized the last word with his intonation, "my friends were gathering information. And, as I can observe, they gathered it better than you. I have irrefutable proof pointing to at least one Sith."
"And who is that?" Yoda moved his ears interestedly.
"Hego Damask. Head of the Banking Clan."
"Aero, that's an unfunny joke," one of the present council members frowned.
"And I'm not joking. I present to your attention several proofs. First is a file with several videos on which Damask hires Mandalorians to deliver a special cargo. That cargo—is a Rakatan star map. Also I want to pass you an artifact we swiped from his hidden laboratory," at those words Aero took a real Sith holocron from his breast. "Well and the third argument is that this bad but very smart Muun is trying to erase those tracks in every way. Thus, it was he who sent thugs after me, and it was him you were chasing all this time. If there are doubts in my arguments, ask him personally."
A short pause hung in the hall. Everyone was processing what they heard.
"And where does such generosity come from?" Raynor asked caustically.
"I don't want to do your job for you. Six months have passed since the attempt on me, and this bastard is still free and moreover—continues his disastrous cause."
"Or maybe a competitor you want to eliminate, hm?" Yoda asked.
"Damask is not my competitor. He is my enemy. And yours. And the enemy of my enemy—is my friend. Heard that saying?"
"Not always so it happens. Far from always, young Aero."
"Dyk, I'll be older than you, Master," Shade smirked. "And all of you put together."
"Life? Perhaps. Experience? Mistaken you are."
"If you are a fool, then in a thousand years you'll remain an old fool," Aero answered sharply without moving a brow. "I, of course, am not a genius either, but I understand and know in any case more than you, Master. At least, I know who our enemy is and want to bring that to you."
"Be that as you say. Но the holocron here you must deliver."
"Tch. I'm not obligated to anyone for anything, and anyway—I'll send it by mail. I have enough problems with the resurrection, you know."
"How by mail?"
"A holocron by mail?!"
"Hm..."
"Yes, so? Do you not trust the Republic mail?" Aero mock-surprisedly arched his brows. "And besides, who would expect a Sith holocron to be sent by ordinary Republic mail?"
"Original your approach is; approve I do, Shade. Но the risk is not justified. A Jedi we shall send to take the holocron."
"As you wish," Aero shrugged. "In any case, now Damask—is your problem. Но, if that problem knocks on my door—I'm not to blame. We understand each other?"
"Aero, for all your proof, Damask is the head of the Banking Clan."
"So? He is as mortal as you and I."
"You of all people to speak of death," Raynor grumbled.
"Well," Aero spread his arms. "Anyway, I've warned you. All the best!" and disconnected.
"Phenomenal insolence," one of the Masters commented.
"Check this urgently we must. Reason to doubt Shade did not give."
"You think so?" Raynor clarified. "Accusing such a figure as Hego Damask will at the very least cause a resonance."
"I feel how dark times are coming. Something terrible is approaching, and act we must immediately. That the Sith are alive we know, but find them we could not. If the bankers behind this stand, their deeds stop we must."
"I'll contact Dooku," Raynor sighed heavily.
Tatooine. Shade
Sitting in my office, I was sorting through papers, while Zero tried to get through to Jabba the Hutt.
And then, the little guy finally beeped, notifying of contact, and projected the slug's hologram.
"Jabba dear! Greetings!" I smile warmly, turning to the image. "Good to see you. Listen, I see you've lost some weight. Looked haggard. Not sick, are you? Maybe sleeping poorly lately?" I ask in a mock-concerned tone, looking into those frightened darting eyes.
"Tuba chak nalavot utaba, Aero," the Hutt looked piteously at me, spreading his paws as if hugging. "Tuka achuchi tanarot."
"The great Jabba the Hutt greets you, and thanks you for the concern shown. My master says he is doing well, and asks—how are you?" while the droid translated the Hutt's speech, Jabba himself folded his paws and nervously fingered his belly, his gaze darting. Now he looks at me, now to the side, now at me again. It seems someone is really bad... Apparently, he hasn't forgotten how he held Gardulla's head in these very hands.
"I'm even better! Here, returned home after a long absence. Now I'm bringing order. No, really, can you imagine what a bastard that Damask is? So much f*ckery done—now to restore everything. And where he placed my ships—a whole separate conversation. No, really, can you imagine? Though what am I asking, you're exactly the one who can imagine."
"Nakato chuvala, Shade. Atano Damask tuka analot."
"My master asks for forgiveness, and says that Damask forced him into a deal with him, otherwise he would block all previously agreed contracts with you, Master Shade."
"Oh come on, Jabba. Don't worry about that, I understand everything. But listen, I decided to drop by to see you just now, and you aren't there."
"Chavokko ator vukatappa apochi. Tutt achchip lokoto."
"Unfortunately, the great Jabba the Hutt was forced to depart on urgent business. My master is very glad of your return and offers a gift on his behalf."
"Jabba, oh come now. What gifts?" I prop up my head, looking condescendingly at the Hutt.
"Cough-cough," the Hutt cleared his throat. "Ato nalavista pochchika."
"My master says he wants to contribute additional funds to your cause. Also, he hopes you will treat the changes that have appeared with understanding."
"Oh, don't worry so much. As I said—I understand everything, business is business. Just return soon, as there are topics for a personal conversation. So I'm waiting for you."
"Lokoto Tatooine atochi chukatta."
"My master says that unfortunately he won't be able to return to Tatooine in the near future."
"No matter. Maybe I'll fly to you myself then? It's not hard for me."
"Ooooo, chukata noppu alokar. Taponno olgachi tok."
"My master is very glad of your proposal, but is forced to decline it. Currently we are in flight and docking will be problematic. It will be much better if you wait some time."
"Oh, Jabba..." I shake my head, to which he spread his hands again.
"Utaki nalovisato oppchik alotto."
"My master offers his services as compensation for the inconvenience caused."
"You return first. I'll introduce you to my mother. She's a great specialist in special types of therapies, by the way. Also, she's a most kind Togruta soul. You can't even imagine how much she loves talking with smart, erudite individuals!" I declare importantly, raising a finger. "I never knew how to do that. But she—is another matter, always finds an approach, and to any being at that."
The same time. Somewhere
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" a Zygerrian shrieked under strikes of Force lightning.
"I ask again. Where. Is. He?"
"I don't know, I don't know!!! Who are you people anyway?!"
Lifting the Zygerrian by the collar and pinning him to the wall, the Togruta asked:
"I don't have time to be polite with you. Either you tell me where he is, or I change your gender," the woman said coldly, pressing a knife to the interrogated's crotch.
"He is at the Queen's court, he is at the Queen's court, Mistress, she definitely knows where to look for him!!!" the Zygerrian immediately shrieked. "He only reports to her, that's all I know."
"Now I understand who Shade learned to conduct negotiations so masterfully from..." a Mandalorian's quiet voice sounded behind the Togruta's back.
Shade Aero
"And also she loves small cakes," I finish. "But why am I saying this? Because we are waiting for you, pal. From Talia, by the way, regards to you. She also wants to say a few words to you, so when you're returning—take something tasty. Deal?"
"Urato nakor chappato," the Hutt nodded.
"My master thanks you for the advice, will definitely take your words into account and try to return to Tatooine as soon as possible."
"Splendid. Then until we meet, Jabba."
"Utaka," the Hutt nodded, waving a hand.
Interrupting the communication session, I look at Zero.
"Something like that. See Zero? And they tell me I don't know how to talk. Here, a crime lord, Jabba the Hutt, and we had such a good chat, and he's even apologizing for the inconvenience. Isn't that a beauty?"
Blink-blink—the droid blinked its sensor.
"Oh, whatever."
"Beep-beep. Message."
"Show it."
"Assignment complicated. We'll be delayed a bit on Zygerria," Mom notified briefly.
"Oh really. Good, good... Alright, let's go. See how the preparation for the operation is going."
After the conversation with Aero. Jabba the Hutt
As soon as the link broke, Jabba the Hutt wiped the sweat from his forehead, sighed heavily and muttered:
"One Aero was enough, and now there are two of them."
"Master?" the droid addressed the Hutt.
"Immediately put me in touch with Ethan! Need to urgently sweep all traces of connection with Damask..."
"As you command, Master."
"And tell Tyran to fly to Alderaan."
"What for, Master?" the droid was surprised, for which he received a blow to the head from the Hutt.
"Idiot! Didn't you hear?! Need to buy gifts. My tail won't be on Tatooine without the best Alderaanian cakes!"
"As you command, Master."
Tossing a struggling nuna, a small swamp reptile-bird, into his mouth, the Hutt looked at his hands, in which it seemed to him only yesterday Gardulla's head lay.
Hego Damask
Looking at the Jedi, the Muun didn't play innocent further. There was a clear understanding that as soon as they took him and conducted the necessary tests, the truth would be on the surface.
Jerking his hand and catching the sword that fell from his sleeve hidden there, Damask with one swing cut through the Judicial Department members standing nearby. Throwing out his other hand, the Sith generated a Force wave, and though it didn't throw the Jedi back, it forced them to defend.
"Tenebrous... may the Force twist you," Damask cursed his master to himself. Plagueis might have managed to get rid of the old Bith and become stronger, but with that he had lost the ability to foresee the future. "And why did I hurry with your death?" the Muun continued to curse, fighting off the Jedi and retreating to the cars.
Catching the first Jedi, Plagueis let the sword pass near him, while he himself, extending a hand, hit the adept at point-blank range with Force lightning, forcing the Jedi to crash to the ground. The next one lost an arm during a parry and received a boot to the chest, while his partner's head was taken off.
To the Muun's surprise, among the Jedi was a pair that fenced at a very decent level. They were a human and a Devaronian. And catching them just like that didn't work; one constantly covered the second. An attempt to throw the Devaronian off the car park failed; his partner returned the Jedi to the platform with the Force.
"Rrrrrraaaa!" Plagueis let out an angry cry, and with a most powerful Force push forced both Jedi to fly back a bit, after which he jumped, described a wide arc backward in a somersault and landed precisely on a taking-off car.
Already standing on the edge of the machine, Darth Plagueis watched the receding figures of the Jedi.
"Put me in touch with Captain Errako," Plagueis threw to the droid driver, sitting in a chair. "Tell them to lift my yacht immediately."
"Accepted."
Taking a holoprojector from his inner pocket, the Muun activated the device. A short pause and the image of his servant appears before him.
"Master?"
"Dara. Immediately put Plan Zero into execution."
"Yes, Master."
"And tell Sheev that the time has come. I will be with him soon."
Interrupting the communication session at that, the Muun shrugged his shoulders. Not how he imagined the embodiment of this plan, but it could have been worse. As soon as the virus-worm does its job, and the triggers in the slaves force them to execute the plan and the system is zeroed out, one can take on the Republic seriously. For centuries the Sith have been shaking this system, building connections, climbing to the very top... and here it's one of two: either they will rule, or no one will.
"Aero... so you did realize who I am. Well, so be it. Rejoice in your imaginary victory; soon it won't matter."
Was Damask offended? Maybe a little bit. The main plan didn't work, so what? He was ready for such a turn of events, for there is always a probability of being found out, and however minimal it seemed, one must be ready for it.
***
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