Aala
On the approach to Zygerria
"What is known about the planet?" the immortal Togruta asked the Mandalorian coldly during the briefing in the mess hall.
As Kaut noted to himself, Aala produced a diametrically opposite impression compared to her son. While Shade himself actively sought contact, did not hide his emotions—in fact, actively displayed them on his face—and generally made a pleasant impression, Aala... Suffice it to say, it was unpleasant to stand near her. A frightening and repelling sensation accompanied the immortal; a dark aura seemed to spread, enveloping her. From the sheer unfamiliarity of speaking with the woman, shivers would run down one's spine. Though, seemingly, there was no reason for it. Aala always spoke calmly, even coldly. She showed no aggression, never raised her voice, but for some reason, one felt no urge to discuss anything with her, much less joke.
"Zygerria is one of the largest planets, if not the largest, trading in slaves," Zerronis began. "Subtropical climate, a single continent surrounded by water. Castle-type cities, built back in the planet's heyday when it was the center of the slave trade for the entire galaxy before the Ruusan Reformation."
"And after?"
"They didn't share with the Republic," Kaut shrugged. "The Jedi arrived and brought the righteous indignation of their state with them. At the moment, after all those events, Zygerria, among other things, resembles a museum that tourists constantly visit. The fortress-cities built by slaves have a specific architecture; that's all that remains of their former greatness."
"What about the defenders?"
"Officially, the Zygerrians have no army. Their fleet is one in name only, but it handles defensive tasks. Although, no one causes trouble on their territory; the Zygerrians have many connections in the criminal world and serve as a sort of legal pirate port. Surprisingly, there is no outside cover; the Zygerrians manage to balance on the edge without bowing to anyone. As for troops, they have a slave army. I can't say anything about their training, but their equipment is decent. Many criminal structures recruit fodder from this army. Sometimes they even buy them out. Besides this, Zygerria has the so-called 'Royal Guard.' It's not exactly an army, but after the dissolution, many responsibilities fell onto this structure, including slave control."
"And what do we have on the royal citadel?"
"Only what's in the public domain," the Mandalorian spread his hands.
"In other words—nothing."
"Well, actually, there is something. It's not exactly a citadel in the full sense of the word. Now, the Pykes—they have a citadel, but here, it's just a shack in the woods. Zygerrians aren't the best builders, and their entire infrastructure revolves around slaves. Well, not all of it—I might have exaggerated there—but more than half, for sure. Moreover, the Zygerrians may fancy themselves warriors, but they aren't fighters, and neither are their slaves, so there won't be problems from that side."
"Good..."
"I'll clarify one point immediately. We—Mandalorians in general—have very strained relations with them."
"That's putting it mildly," Zerronis added.
"Why?"
"Usually, if our people somehow end up in slavery, they cause their masters many, many problems. And if other Mandalorians find out about it, there's no talk of bargaining. We just fly in and take our brother or sister out of bondage. Usually, it doesn't end well for the slave owner. Plus, we don't trade in slaves, which also leaves its mark on the relationship."
"I see. Is that all?"
"Basically, yes."
"Then listen here. Our target is Kassh Tanrakko," Aala said, placing a holoprojector on the table and activating the target's projection. "Who he is exactly isn't clear. What he formally does isn't clear either. There's no information in official sources, and all we have is a way to reach him as a client."
"A client?" Kaut clarified.
"He specializes in training special slaves. He is well-known in narrow circles and charges very large sums for his work."
"And why would Shade need a slave trainer?" Kaut inquired.
"He must fix what he himself has done. Therefore, take him alive and unharmed."
"Understood."
"How are we acting?" Zer crossed his arms over his chest. The other Mandalorians present at the briefing listened in silence.
"I will now contact a lead who will have to arrange a meeting. From there—we take the target and leave. Kaut and Zerronis are coming with me. Hanharr, Tron, you will lead two groups. Your task is to be on standby in case everything goes sideways and the target tries to escape."
"What do we do in case of resistance?"
"Destroy everyone who stands in the way," Aala replied just as coldly, turning her head toward Zerronis.
"Is the use of Basilisks authorized?" Tron clarified.
"As you wish."
"Then let them stay in reserve," Kaut spoke up. "Tron, you, the twins, and Fenrir go into the city. Hanharr, you and the rest stay on the ship. At the first sign of trouble, fly out on the Basilisks."
"Uaarrrr," the Wookiee nodded.
"That is all. Go, get ready," Aala concluded.
As the team began to disperse, the Togruta dialed the contact details on the holotransmitter and waited for a response from the other side. The device beeped, signaling that a connection had been established, but no image appeared.
"Hello. You have called the 'Working Hands' shop. What interests you?" a pleasant voice came from the other side.
"I am interested in exotic slaves for unspecified purposes," Aala stated the key phrase.
"Oh! We would be happy to help you. But you do understand that the prices for such merchandise will be very high?"
"I know. I came to you on the recommendation of one of your past clients, who recommended your firm as very reliable."
"That is true. Tell me, how should I address you?"
"Aala Tan."
"Aala Tan, when can you come by to discuss the details?"
"I will arrive on Zygerria in an hour. I can come to you immediately."
"In that case, come here," the device beeped, notifying her of a message. "Our main office is located there."
"I thought as much," Aala smirked.
"All the best."
The connection was cut, and Aala looked at Kaut, who was standing nearby. The Mandalorian was in no hurry to leave, unceremoniously scrutinizing the immortal.
"What?"
"No, nothing like that. I just can't understand... You were dead... supposedly. No?"
"I am not alive now, either," Aala shrugged, standing up from the sofa.
"How does that work?"
"I am a Force spirit, Mandalorian. Albeit in a mechanical body."
"So, this is a droid body?"
"No. Но for ease of understanding, consider it so."
"And if this body is killed, does that mean you'll die again?" As she was leaving, Aala stopped and turned to Kaut. "No-no, I was just asking! I've never talked to spirits. And besides, droids are wary of electromagnetic pulses, and... other stuff..." By the end, the Mandalorian trailed off completely. Under the Force adept's gaze, Kaut himself didn't understand what was making him nervous and causing his voice to grow quieter and quieter.
"Worry about yourselves; I don't intend to babysit you," the Togruta snapped, leaving the room.
While the Mandalorians were equipping themselves and checking their gear, Aala sat in her cabin and meditated in the lotus position, rotating Forcesabers above her hands. Lightning struck from her hands into the hilts, and a ring of sand rotated around the Togruta herself.
When the ship landed, Aala was the first to disembark. There was only one spaceport for all newcomers here, and it was located outside the city walls. High but fairly thin fortifications with towers, on top of which sat riders on some kind of flying beasts.
Quite a few visitors could be seen at the gates. The standing guards calmly let everyone in and out, without stopping or checking them.
"Are they just decorations?" Aala looked at Kaut.
"Their main trouble is escaping slaves," the Mandalorian explained. "Even pirates don't get bold here."
"I see."
However, passing into the city without problems didn't work out. As soon as they approached the gates, the squad was stopped by the guards.
"What are Mandalorians doing here?" the commander asked sternly, trying to act brave.
"Doing their job as my security. Why, is there a problem?" Aala asked, closing the distance with the Zygerrian. The woman turned out to be half a head taller and looked down at him. One look at the poor fellow and you'd think he was about to collapse from a heart attack.
"No-no, not at all, my lady. Pass through," the Zygerrian said, stepping aside to make way and adjusting his collar.
"Like I said. Slave owners don't much care for us," Kaut commented over the internal comms.
"Let them keep not caring; it doesn't matter. Just act like empty-headed muscle and keep your mouths shut. That won't be a problem, will it?"
"No."
Once inside the walls, the squad split up as planned. Tron and his group went one way; Aala, Kaut, and Zer went the other. Wandering through the rather narrow streets of the city, Aala looked around. There were so many stalls and shops of all kinds that wherever you looked, you'd see one, and almost all of them traded in slaves. Some combined several businesses. Thus, while buying groceries, one could cheaply purchase or rent a porter to go with them. Or, if it was consumer electronics, a slave capable of setting it up or repairing it sat nearby.
"Is this definitely a tourist city?" Aala clarified over the internal comms.
"Definitely. I got it from official sources," Kaut replied, also inspecting the slaves.
"So much for freedom in the Republic..." Zer whispered.
"And they call my son a savage..." the Togruta commented.
"What was that?"
"A highly developed civilization, a civilized society... yet it rests on slave labor. This didn't exist even in my time. It seems that with the passage of time, the galaxy doesn't develop; it degrades," Aala commented.
Turning a corner, the squad stumbled upon a literal auction where youths were being traded.
"Pity we can't help them..." Zerronis commented.
"Only with carpet bombing," the Togruta replied indifferently.
"Do you have no compassion at all?"
"I do. I would drop the bombs out of compassion."
"Maybe something a bit... softer? No?"
"There is no death, there is only the Force, and it shall free all from bodily torment."
"And if one of our own ends up in slavery?"
At this, Aala silently turned her head toward him.
"Uh... Never mind, don't answer, I don't want to know," the Mandalorian stepped aside. "But still, they're children. And as the Mando code says, there are no such things as someone else's children."
"I am not a Mandalorian. And I hate slaves," Aala stated, passing by the market. "Fine, if these were kids who just got caught. But look at them. They were born in this environment. They know no other life, and they don't even need one. They stand there like cattle for the slaughter. No collars, no chains."
"Even so. I feel for the kids."
Leaving the square, the squad proceeded to a fairly large building. The three-story structure with massive walls stood out quite significantly against the general sandy background. There were neon signs depicting dancers, quiet music drifted from a half-open door, and right next to the entrance, tipsy patrons relaxed in the company of slave girls.
"Uh... Are we sure we're in the right place?" Kaut clarified, eyeing the entrance.
"Looks like it," Zerronis cross-referenced the data.
Ascending the steps, Aala was the first to enter. Dim lighting, blue and scarlet tones of colored lights. Expensive furniture, decorations—everything spoke of luxury. Patrons sat at some tables dining, while girls in very revealing and provocative outfits walked between the tables. In the center of the hall was a podium with dancers; in the left corner, a Hutt sat puffing on a hookah; and to the right was a cordoned-off zone with several sofas for special clients. Right by the podium was a bar counter with an Ardennian bartender. The short humanoid mixed drinks quite skillfully with his four arms. Near the bar counter, an entrance to a corridor and a staircase leading up could be seen. The corridor was used by local staff, while the stairs were for patrons. Notably, the workers were of every taste and color, and you couldn't even name the race of half the ladies right away.
The appearance of such a colorful company as Mandalorians, and in such an interesting place, attracted everyone's attention. The guards tensed, the patrons and dancers were distracted. Under surprised, wary, and simply annoyed gazes, the trio walked to the bar counter.
"Your kind doesn't often blow in here," the bartender said gloomily. "What do you want?"
"Watch your tongue, slave. I am not a Mandalorian," Aala shook her head, beginning to speak in a more electronic voice, imitating the work of a vocoder. "And these are my guards. I have a meeting scheduled here."
"Um... My apologies, my lady," the xeno bowed apologetically. The look with which he regarded Aala instantly changed to one of respect. To have such guys as bodyguards—you'd need serious money for that. "May I clarify your name?"
"Aala Tan."
"Yes, you are on the list," the alien nodded, distracted by a datapad. "But may I ask you to surrender your weapons and undergo a scan?" The alien pointed to a safe near a pair of guards.
Nodding to the Mandalorians toward the safe, the woman silently watched as the warriors reluctantly disarmed. She herself was subjected to a handheld scanner, but they found nothing except an abundance of implants.
"Is that all?" Aala cast a glance at the xeno.
"Yes. Toma!" snapping the fingers of his upper left hand, he called one of the waitresses.
"?"
"Escort this woman and her bodyguards to Room Five."
"Of course. Please follow me, gentlemen," a dark-skinned Onderonian human purred affectionately, waving her hand and gesturing for them to follow.
Following the girl up the spiral staircase, the group walked down a long corridor with closed doors.
"Please," the dancer opened the door numbered five.
Inside, the squad was presented with a room. Two sofas facing each other, a coffee table in the center. On the side, a retractable panel was attached to the wall so that a собеседник could be hidden.
"Please, make yourselves comfortable. Your contact will arrive in a few minutes. Can I bring you anything?"
"You're dismissed," Aala waved her hand.
"As you wish. If you need anything, you can call me with this button," she pointed to the table and stepped out the door.
Watching the girl leave, Kaut said:
"If I didn't know where I was, I'd think this was a decent place."
Aala looked at the Mandalorian.
"At least it's legal," the warrior corrected himself.
"It's legal here," Zer snorted.
"By Republic laws," his friend grumbled. "I mean, the slaves... in a brothel... I mean that everyone here has slave brands on their necks," but seeing the reaction of the others, he sighed. "Fine, never mind."
Zerronis shook his head, while Aala silently inspected the walls, scanning them for insulation and thickness. As the next step, without showing it, Aala felt out a camera through the Force and applied Mechu-deru. Using the Force technique, the woman tracked where the camera was connected. A quiet click sounded, and a pocket appeared on her hip, from which the Togruta took a small device. Attaching it to her arm, the woman launched a remote system hack. As soon as the connection to the system occurred, Aala sat down on the sofa, propping her feet on the table and putting her hands behind her head. She might not be as good at Mechu-deru as she'd like, but while her son lay unconscious, she had brushed up on a few things. And the Terrans were no slouches, having provided specific auxiliary devices.
Less than five minutes of waiting passed before the door opened. A Zygerrian appeared in the doorway, but not at all the one Aala was expecting. Unlike the picture, this one had a chewed-up ear and was in good, toned shape, whereas the original was supposed to be chubbier. Also, the fur color was different. And naturally, the face—it was completely different.
Sizing the trio up with a look, the Zygerrian entered the room.
"Aala?"
"Yes."
"Hello. My name is Kassh," the Zygerrian introduced himself, walking into the room and sitting down opposite her.
Sensing the lie in his words, Aala grew angry but didn't show it.
"May I ask since when Mandalorians have been interested in slaves?"
"Mandalorians aren't interested. These are just my guards," Aala brushed it off.
"Oh? Good. So, how can I be of service?"
"You—can't. I need Kassh."
"What?!" the Zygerrian was taken aback by such talk.
"That. Don't lead me by the nose, Zygerrian. I know perfectly well you aren't who you claim to be. Who are you?" Aala asked. Trying not to scare her собеседник prematurely, the woman kept herself in check and spoke calmly and softly. Nevertheless, the liar grew very tense.
"I have the same question for you. You are too well-informed for a nameless woman with a lot of money, and such people don't appear out of nowhere. We ran a check on you and realized that you—or at least your name—simply don't exist. I can assume you work for someone... just like I do. Isn't that right?"
Smirking mentally, Aala jerked her head.
"Well done. You know what you're doing. However, you don't understand who you've crossed. I don't work for anyone; I am simply fulfilling a request from my son. And my name is Aala..." At that moment, the Togruta launched a virus that caused the camera to glitch, "...Aero." At the mention of the surname, the Zygerrian's face went pale. "I see you're familiar with that name. I'm asking again: who are you to represent Kassh's interests?" the immortal demanded an answer, mentally weighing the value of the man before her and what could be pried out of him. And whether it wouldn't be easier to put this one to the knife and ask someone more informed, like the management of the 'Working Hands' company.
"I am Rax. I am the one who works with clients. I don't know who gave you our contact info, but Kassh practically never meets new clients in person. Therefore, counting on a meeting with him is useless. If you have business, I'm listening."
"There is business, yes... very important. Но it's not about a new slave, but rather about programming an old one. Tell me," Aala took her feet off the table and leaned forward. "Do you know where Kassh can be found?"
"No. And even if I did, do you think I'd tell you? You think too much of yourself. This conversation is over," the Zygerrian declared categorically and tried to stand up, but...
"Sit," Aala snapped coldly, causing Rax to collapse back down. The poor fellow's legs gave out, and the Zygerrian himself felt his fur stand on end. "I didn't dismiss you. And you will tell me everything I need," at that moment, Aala's visor glowed with a scarlet light, and in the reflection, one could see the Zygerrian's face contorted with fear. "Tell me, Rax. Do you know anyone who can lead me to Kassh?" The Togruta ignited a blade, showing the scarlet pulsing energy blade to the man.
The Zygerrian didn't answer, staring with eyes widened in horror at the scarlet blade.
"Well?" The woman moved the weapon to the side, forcing him to focus on the mask.
"I... I..." It was unknown what he wanted to say, but fear forced an answer. "I-I don't know!"
"So you do know," Aala nodded mentally, sensing the lie through the Force.
"Tsk. If you've heard of my son, you should know—he very much dislikes being lied to," deactivating the blade, the woman stood up from the sofa. "And I even more so."
A chain of Force lightning erupted from the immortal's outstretched hand, causing Rax to go into convulsions and collapse from the sofa to the floor.
"Aaaaaaaagh!!!"
"Where is Kassh?"
"I don't know!"
Another discharge, and the room was illuminated by flashes of Force lightning.
"Aaaaaaaagh!!!"
Ceasing her torment of the miserable wretch, the woman moved the table aside with the Force and stepped closer to the subject.
"I'm asking again. Where. Is. He?" Aala leaned over the body.
"I-I don't know!"
Another strike, followed by screams of pain.
"Harsh..." Zer commented.
"Aala, maybe you should use a mind trick?" Kaut waved his hand.
"I'm not good at it," the woman brushed him off, watching Rax's agony with some lethargy.
"How?! I thought all Je—" Aala turned around. "I mean, gifted people could do that," the Mandalorian immediately corrected himself.
"Far from all. It's a specific training technique. But I can do something else."
Letting the Zygerrian catch his breath and recover slightly, Aala crouched down and grabbed him by the face.
"Feel my pain..."
This time, no screams followed. Rax rolled his eyes and went into a fit, letting out a wheeze. Removing the pressure, Aala gave him another breather.
"Well?"
"I don't know... I don't know."
"Then who knows?" Grabbing the xeno by the cheeks, the woman turned his head toward her mask. "Tell me, and your torments will end immediately."
"No... No..."
"Now I see who Shade learned to negotiate from..." the Mandalorian's quiet voice sounded behind the Togruta's back, accompanied by another Zygerrian wheeze.
"You think?" Zer asked skeptically.
"You're right. The brother is more humane. Aala, he won't accidentally kick the bucket, will he?" Kaut grew worried.
"He won't kick the bucket while I'm around," the Togruta replied, but at those words, shivers ran down both Mandalorians' backs, and both warriors looked at the pretender with sympathy.
"I don't know... I don't know," the alien kept repeating like a mantra, but this only angered the Togruta further.
Lifting the Zygerrian by the collar and pinning him to the wall, Aala asked:
"I don't have time to play games with you. Either you tell me where he is, or I change your gender," the immortal said coldly, taking a knife from a hidden pocket on her arm and pressing it against the interrogated man's crotch.
"Aaaaaagh!" the Zygerrian suddenly screamed, but as it seemed to the Mandalorians, Aala hadn't managed to do anything yet.
"Come back to me," the Togruta gave the pretender a slap. "Those are phantom pains; you're still fine for now."
Frantically checking his junk, the Zygerrian looked into the visor of the immortal's mask.
"But this time, the event will be for real, and the impressions will be even more vivid. Do you want to experience them?"
"He's at the Queen's court, he's at the Queen's court, my lady, she definitely knows where to find him!!!" the xeno broke into hysterics. "He reports only to her, that's all I knoooowww."
"There, good boy," the woman set the Zygerrian on his feet and gently patted his cheek. "There, there, calm down. See? Nothing scary, and if you'd said so right away—it would have been great!"
"..."
Shaking the Zygerrian, Aala ran the Force through the poor fellow's body, repairing the trauma and calming his nerves.
"Rax, I have a few more questions for you. You will cooperate, won't you?" The Zygerrian nodded frantically. "Good boy, see, you should have done that from the start."
"What else do you want from me?!"
"Tell me, can you lead us to your Queen?"
"Yes."
"Then lead us, please. And I promise I won't cut anything off you. Honest."
"Fine."
"Good boy. Now, let's tidy you up a bit, you look quite a mess," Aala brushed an invisible speck of dust off the Zygerrian's shoulder, instilling confidence as she did so.
Thus, after sitting for another ten minutes in the office and returning the Zygerrian to a more or less acceptable appearance, the squad watched as Rax contacted someone from the palace and arranged an urgent meeting, arguing that very wealthy clients wanted to meet with the Queen. Aala herself, meanwhile, sent a report to her son stating that she had found the trail but might be delayed.
As soon as the formalities were settled, the group left the room. Right outside the door in the corridor stood four armed guards from the Zygerrian security forces. No sooner had the guards started asking if everything was alright than the nervous, pushed-to-the-brink, and broken Rax barked "Shut up!" and led the group directly toward the palace, while trying to keep his distance from Aala.
Thus, escorted by the Zygerrians, Aala and the Mandalorians reached the citadel. The Mandalorians had to disarm again, but what could they do—neither Kaut nor Zer wanted to stay and wait for Aala at the checkpoint.
Inside, the citadel of the Queen of Zygerria was unimpressive. Yes, various curiosities and decorations were everywhere—vases, figurines, flowers, or something else stood in every corner. But otherwise, the building's architecture left much to be desired. While even in her time on Tython many used automated doors, here they preferred ordinary massive doors that had to be pushed by hand. And who would have thought that slaves would be the ones opening and closing them?
The Queen's chambers themselves turned out to be an elongated hall with a high ceiling and decorative columns. Each column was stylized as one or another representative of a sentient life form holding up the ceiling. At the end of the hall stood a throne on a dais, with passages to the left and right of it, and on the throne itself—the Queen.
To Aala's surprise, there were only seven guards here. Six Zygerrians and one unusual Zabrak with lightsabers standing next to the throne. Plus, there were two more slaves from the domestic staff in the room.
"My Queen! Allow me to present Aala Tan," the court Zygerrian bowed respectfully. Aala herself didn't even think of bowing, scrutinizing the mistress of the citadel. She looked about thirty, with well-groomed silky yellowish fur, brown eyes, and a neat nose with lips. From the fairly cute appearance, a sharp, arrogant gaze stood out.
"Hm... I hope your offer will be worthwhile," the Queen spoke, stirring a drink in a glass.
"Have no doubt." Aala raised her hand. "My offers are not refused."
Cameras cracked, guards collapsed to the floor gasping for air, and the Queen, like a doll on strings, flew into Aala's hand. The only one who remained standing was the Zabrak, but what could he do against a hunter of Force-sensitives?
Attempting to resist, the man activated his saber and lunged at the intruders, but mid-flight he was caught by the Force and slammed into the ceiling so hard that he lost consciousness. Turning around already, Aala held the struggling Queen by the neck in her hand, while a body landed behind her back.
Throwing the woman onto the floor as if showing her her place, the immortal loomed over the Zygerrian.
"As I said, my offers are not refused. I know your kind, and I know that until you are shown strength, no constructive dialogue will happen. Now listen. For your sake, I'm not here for your head. I need Kassh Tanrakko. And I was told you know where I can find him."
At that moment, the Queen looked angrily at the cowering Rax.
"Forgive me, my lady... Forgive me," the Zygerrian collapsed to his knees. "But she forced me... I beg you, Queen, for your own sake, do not resist."
"Listen to your subordinate. He understands what I am capable of."
"Grrrr..."
"My Queen... Please, hear me. This woman... she will not rest until she achieves her goal. She is dead! Do you hear? She is already dead! And she will cut down the whole city, turn the whole planet over in search of Kassh. I beg you... I implore you, do not provoke her! For our own sake!"
Looking at the broken Rax, something really clicked in the Zygerrian woman's head. It was visible on her face. She clearly knew Rax himself and knew his character, and therefore—such behavior had an effect.
"Kassh is... here, on Zygerria," the Queen replied venomously, standing up from the floor.
"Wonderful. Can you call him to us?"
"..."
"I asked, can you call him here?"
"Yes. But he will need time to arrive."
"How much?"
"About five hours."
"Then what are we waiting for? Call him. We will wait."
After a short deliberation, the Queen approached the throne and activated a transmitter hidden within it, through which she asked Kassh to return to the Citadel immediately. When the deed was done, an awkward silence hung in the hall. Aala phlegmatically examined the statues, the Mandalorians sat on the steps with the Zygerrian weapons they'd gathered from the floor, and the two shocked slaves and Rax huddled against the wall.
"Who are you people?" the Queen couldn't take it.
"They are Mandalorians." Aala nodded at the warriors.
"That I can see. And you?"
"An ancient." The Togruta shrugged. "Even if I tell you who I am, it won't give you anything."
"Try me!"
"I am immortal. Feel better?"
"..."
"See? I told you."
A little later, the Queen changed the subject:
"Why do you want Kassh?"
"To offer him a job."
"And for that, you broke into my palace, beat and intimidated my subjects, and are threatening me?!"
"Yes."
"You have strange methods!"
"I need Kassh personally. But since he doesn't meet with just anyone in person, we will go the path of least resistance. Namely—through you."
"Are you insane? Who do you think I am?!"
"A link that will help me complete the task."
"I am the Queen of Zygerria!"
"And?"
Aala spoke with complete indifference, which threw the Queen into a total stupor. For twenty minutes, the Zygerrian sat on the steps below the throne and stared at the immortal.
"You are slave traders; you consider yourselves above others," Aala began. "In principle, you do not equate the life of a non-Zygerrian to your own. A thing, an object, a tool, an instrument, anything but a person. And now you have encountered one who treats you exactly the same way. You are an instrument for achieving my goal. Your life is in my hands, and it is I who decide what becomes of it. I can torture you, I can make you a cripple, I can do anything I wish," as she said this, Aala lifted the Zygerrian into the air, showing her her position. "How does it feel? Do you like it? Don't answer; I know the answer. It's written on your face."
"Grrrr..."
"You slave traders are parasites of society, and slaves are the pus you produce and with which you poison the galaxy. You think your life is worth more than all others, but in reality—it is worth nothing. Though no, I am wrong. It is definitely worth something, for the hunting and elimination of your kind is an excellent source of income for mercenaries and warriors alike."
Slowly but surely, the Togruta walked around the Queen, suppressing her will. She spoke calmly, steadily, not exerting strong pressure on the mind, nor instilling pain. Nevertheless, within an hour, the Queen's mind began to weaken. And by the second hour, when Aala was no longer speaking but continued to pace, it seemed to the Zygerrian that she continued to hear that voice... that terrible voice that was simply driving her mad.
By the third hour, the Queen's will was suppressed. Instead of a proud person of noble blood, the spectators could observe a cornered, twitchy woman who flinched at every loud rustle and didn't even dare to raise her eyes to Aala.
"What did you do to her?" Kaut inquired.
"I broke her. I said that I might not know how to deceive the mind, but I can do something else. Now she won't dare to contradict me, or even look at me sideways. However, if I continue, it will drive her insane."
"Brrr... I take my words back, that's terrifying," Zerronis shuddered. "Three hours, and you've turned her into a floor rag."
"Can Shade do that?" Kaut looked at Aala.
"No. He can't. I tried to teach him, but he was never able to adapt this technique for himself."
"Um... adapt? Aren't you from the same school?"
"Not exactly... Don't worry about it," the Togruta brushed him off.
Once the Queen was broken, Aala allowed the unconscious guards to come to. After that, the mistress of the citadel herself restored order. She canceled all meetings, escorted the "guests" to the dining room where she fed them, and then remained alone with them in her chambers.
Upon arrival, Kassh was immediately escorted to where he was already expected.
"My Queen," the Zygerrian bowed respectfully.
"Kassh... you are late."
"My apologies. Business. Um... Rax?!" the Zygerrian raised his eyebrows in surprise, seeing a familiar face.
"Kassh, this is Aala. She is the one who wanted to meet you," the Queen pointed to the immortal lounging casually in a chair.
"Um..."
"Take a seat," Aala pointed to the chair opposite her. At that moment, both the Queen and Rax stepped into the adjacent room. The immortal looked at the Mandalorians.
"Us too?"
"..."
"Got it! Let's go, Zer."
As soon as the door closed and the two were left alone, Kassh addressed Aala:
"What did you do to my Queen?" the Zygerrian asked sternly, noticing the change in his mistress's character.
"We had a heart-to-heart talk. During the conversation, she simply realized who she was dealing with. Nothing more, nothing less."
"And who is that?" the Zygerrian asked venomously, looking at Aala.
"Have you heard the name 'Aero'?"
"I've had occasion to..."
"And?"
"A complete psycho who united the Mandalorians and shook up the criminal underworld around Tatooine. Even Black Sun would be wary of dealing with him. The Abyss knows what he'll pull next, and how many aces he has up his sleeve. I take it you're from him?"
"Yes. I am Aala Aero, his mother."
"..."
"And we have a job for you."
"I take it refusal is not an option?"
"Correct."
"And... what kind of job?"
"In your specialty. A few years ago, you prepared slaves for Hego Damask. Among them was a Twi'lek named Talia."
"I remember; I remember all my works, but first I want to warn you—after I complete an order, I have no idea where the clients assign my creations. Therefore, if you're counting on getting leverage..."
"Tsk," Aala jerked her head. "I said, a job in your specialty!"
"You need the same batch of slaves Damask took?" the Zygerrian raised a brow.
"No. I need you to reverse the process."
"Eh... Whaaa?!"
"It is necessary for Talia to be rid of the programming."
"That is impossible. The programming process cannot be reversed."
"Continue."
"In the case of Talia and her group, I completely rewrote the base personality according to the client's wishes. The process cannot be turned back. Not at all. The girl will follow the embedded program whether she wants to or not, period."
"And if I tell you she disobeyed an order?"
"That is impossible!" the Zygerrian protested heatedly. But looking at Aala, he explained: "The program can only glitch in the event of a conflict with the base personality. But there is no base. It was rewritten. Completely! And there's simply nothing to conflict with."
"And nevertheless, Talia received a direct order—and violated it. The order was to kill my son. She chose to shoot herself instead, but failed."
From such revelations, Kassh jumped up and began pacing the room.
"This is... This is impossible."
"Your programming was disrupted. At the moment, Talia is under supervision and is behaving almost as usual."
"Almost?"
"She has become sharper. More biting. Occasionally her 'I' breaks through," at these words, Aala played a clip of the meeting where Talia sets harsh conditions for the others:
"This information has been verified; furthermore, my word is sufficient for you," Talia snapped harshly, ending some argument.
"And such scenes are occurring more and more often. If before the girl was quiet and compliant, lately her 'I' has been popping out."
"It can't be... She was like that at birth. Bold, assertive, sharp-tongued. But I formatted all that!"
"I see the opposite."
"Amazing... No, it's amazing!"
"If you return her to her original state, or at least help solve the problem—you'll get rich. I didn't want to shed your kin's blood unnecessarily, but it is upon your decisions and actions that their lives depend. Including the Queen's life. Remember that."
"And the guarantees?"
"I guarantee that if you refuse or get Talia killed, Zygerria will first drown in blood, and then it will glow from the amount of radiation on the surface."
"Good guarantees," Kassh nervously adjusted his collar.
Aala pulled out a tablet and activated a banking app on it with the already prepared carrot.
"I think this will comfort you?" The woman showed him the amount. "This is the advance."
"How much?!" Kassh gasped, clutching the tablet.
"Well?" Aala prompted the Zygerrian.
"Ahem... I agree!" He returned the tablet with his details already entered for the transfer.
"I didn't doubt it," the woman smirked and confirmed the payment.
Did she feel sorry about sending state funds to Aala? Absolutely not. Because it wasn't even her money or her son's. It was just from a certain debtor...
Somewhere
"What the... WHAT?!!" the Devaronian shouted as soon as he saw the notification of a two-hundred-million withdrawal in his name from the accounts of the Jedi Order temple. "WHO?! HOW???"
"Master Reynar, has something else happened?" the battered Dooku asked.
"Yes!!! We've been robbed!!!"
"How?! Who???"
"I have no idea. Damned Sith... As if the failure with Hego Damask wasn't enough, now this..." the Master clutched his head. "Wait! Damask! Damned bankers... I will personally bury both him and all his accomplices! Dooku, turn the ship around and call for reinforcements. We are returning to Muunilinst. Oh, I'll show them..."
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: patreon.com/Granulan