"Did they agree to the meeting?"
"Yes," Alexi didn't want to talk, but his permanent bodyguard was unusually talkative today, which forced him to fend off numerous questions, "I was surprised myself, but Altman easily agreed to a peace deal."
"That means they have some serious business coming up." The loyal secretary carefully entered the conversation, simultaneously showing data from a tablet displaying the Helldivers' action statistics. As soon as these psychopaths shouting about democracy and freedom went quiet, many slavers, pirates, and just plain bastards—dropped everything and went on the defensive, fearing that the crazy lapdogs of the Judicial Forces would come crashing down on their heads. And in the literal sense of the word. The idiotic insertion method chosen by the mercenaries—drove many to a nervous tic, especially the fat-bellied soldiers who believed that since such a thing wasn't in their textbooks, it couldn't exist in reality. "The trend is clear... Could they be lulling us into a false sense of security?"
This question also greatly concerned Garyn. Now, when he had just taken the lead of the Black Sun, he had many enemies, foes, and just suspicious individuals ready to pick at the freshly baked leader.
The Vigos who disagreed with his candidacy, the dissatisfied allies of the former head Cabro—the Muuns, the Hutt Cartels, the Zygerrian slavers, the Ryloth spice dealers, even the small upstart Pykes who believed their syndicate was equal to the Black Sun—they all started moving, hoping to snatch their piece while Alexi was getting on his feet.
And while he had to act more carefully with all the enemies outside the organization to avoid provoking a gang war of galactic proportions, inside the Black Sun, he could act in the most arrogant manner.
"How did it even come to this..."
Clenching his fingers tighter, Alexi once again replayed in his head the whole story of his little scam, where he used the mercenaries' hands to clean up loose ends and the dissatisfied... Everything was great, and only the personal underestimation of Altman, who killed three Morgukai almost with his bare hands... which was extremely hard to believe if not for the confirmation from all the spies inside the Helldivers.
"No matter... youthful mistakes. Next time I won't underestimate my enemy and will strike for sure from the very beginning."
"Boss, unknown ships exiting hyperspace." One of the operators spun sharply in his chair, leaning back and nearly falling to the floor. "Put it on the screen?"
"Yes."
Hissing through his teeth, Alexi promised himself to hire a couple of instructors from military academies to beat all the crap out of his subordinates. He was annoyed by such familiarity, especially in a structure of this level. And if Cabro was fine with everything, he would certainly remake the Black Sun into a much better version.
"A-a-and... done."
The screen reflected the void of space, but less than ten seconds passed before a modified Dreadnaught flew out of hyperspace, immediately making everyone present tense up. When the rest of the fleet poured into the system following the flagship, Alexi felt a drop of sweat run down his temple. Another mistake. Underestimating the enemy, and here was the result.
"At this rate, I won't live to see my own old age."
Nearly thirty ships were forming into an attack order, making everyone on the bridge nervous, especially the small curs and other idiots who frequently looked back in his direction.
"Stop the panic. Establish contact with the lead ship; do not provoke and do not engage without my command. Is that clear, you bastards?"
"Yes, boss!"
The unified shout of a dozen frightened voices helped Garyn calm down and pull himself together. The deed was done, he had gone for this himself, and now there was no point in retreating...
Fine, he had at least three plans for how to get out of here if everything went completely south. Besides, a special ship was waiting on the planet, more aimed at escape, and only he and Mighella knew of its location. Speaking of the witch.
"How does it feel?"
"Just one mistake and they will attack. I feel excitement, anticipation, and a hint of... resentment." Surprised by her own words, the Dathomirian gripped her temples with her fingers, starting to massage them slowly. "A strange mix... as if the Helldivers are disappointed that we are signing a peace treaty."
"Psychos... how do they even manage to make money with such an approach?" Garyn sincerely didn't understand this attitude. Like any serious person not deprived of power and ambition, he didn't like open conflicts with his own participation, which usually resulted in nothing but losses and problems... which couldn't be said about Altman—a true adrenaline junkie who loves leading his people's attacks on fortified enemy positions. "Crazy."
Muttering one last time, Alexi waited until the connection was established between them. Straightening the collar of his leather coat—the sale of which could fetch a decent Consular-class cruiser. The gloves sat smoothly on his hands, feeling like a second skin. A rare blaster rested in a holster on his belt. Filigree work with many decorative elements that belonged in a museum, not in the hands of a hardened bandit.
Straightening his wavy hair one last time, the blond stared at the screen, just in time, as he needed a couple of seconds to pull himself together.
Dressed in full combat gear, frozen against the backdrop of his people lined up in neat rows at the entrance to the shuttles, Altman stared intently back at him, holding a scuffed helmet on his right elbow... in fact, all his armor was scuffed. The head of the Helldivers looked as if he had tried to crawl into a rancor's mouth and the poor animal had actively fought back. All that was missing was blood and traces of soot to complete the picture: a warrior after a heavy battle.
"Greetings, my name is Alexi Garyn." Ignoring the heavy gaze of his interlocutor, the head of the Black Sun smiled with his usual charisma. "And I think we have something to discuss."
***
"An impressive sum." Arkam, as the only one currently in the briefing room in person, not counting me. Everyone else was present as holograms, but that didn't prevent me from seeing their shocked faces. "I thought we had moved up quite well, but this..."
"He is, after all, the head of one of the largest criminal organizations in the galaxy," Brag Fesat, our eternal logistics man, thoughtfully rubbed his sweaty fingers. His palms were covered in work calluses, and the Ukian constantly fiddled with them when he was nervous. "Even if he's still far from full power..."
Under our gazes, Brag Fesat looked down embarrassedly, then tried to dive back into the reports and the recording of our conversation, rewatching it for what seemed like the eighth time.
"And he's offering even more." I felt sand in my mouth—metaphorically, of course. "For the destruction of two Vigos and all their enterprises. There's not much time for a decision; many have clearly found out about our meeting, so..."
Spreading my hands, I didn't press the point that I didn't like the idea. Working for the Black Sun, even if it meant killing some bastards... but for the sake of others! And that went against everything we had established when founding the Helldivers.
"We don't work for these scum. Half of our soldiers won't understand us if we sign a contract with them." Somnia voiced my thoughts out loud, but we have a democracy here, so the words of the others were important too.
Fortunately, I wasn't disappointed in my comrades. Gradually, one by one, my friends and colleagues spoke out against the idea, although the jackpot was extremely tempting. Especially on the eve of building new ships, this money could serve as an excellent aid, but...
"If you chase two wompas, both will get away," the Shorty concluded laconically, shrugging her shoulders. For her, the choice wasn't even a question, which made my heart warmer. "It would be better to kill Garyn. A strong leader. Charismatic. Cunning. Educated. Arrogant. Very dangerous."
And I agreed with that... we should have finished the job and whacked the jerk. But right now, we couldn't handle a war with the entire Black Sun, which would surely unite under Alexi's hands if we started a full-scale war. And the damned pirate understood this no worse than I did, which is why he constantly tried to provoke me during the conversation. Small jabs, tests, tricks in phrasing... too much complex shit for a dumb soldier like me.
But Garyn didn't cross the line, so I stoically endured this strange conversation, which felt more like a showdown between two bosses. Besides the "small" cash bonus, as Alexi called it, we agreed not to interfere in each other's business for the next ten years. Considering that our sectors of influence were in different parts of the galaxy, it was quite appropriate.
"Then it's settled. We decline the deal." With a light heart, I sent the message to Garyn, then turned off the PDA, hoping I would never have to communicate with this charismatic piece of bantha shit again. "Tell me you have good news, otherwise I'll organize some for myself..."
Chuckles were heard in response, but overall the people were clearly tense. Already anticipating imminent problems, my head began to ache.
"Just say it..."
"Our new friend Sienar has some kind of problem." Bringing up a map before us, Somnia quickly zoomed in on the image, showing us Ryloth. "He asked for an urgent meeting on Ryloth, where the company has one of its major offices."
"Could they not find another planet?" Grumbling under my breath, I reached for the PDA again, but seeing the girl fall silent, I stopped. "I take it there are no details?"
"Exactly. Raith just called and said you must meet him specifically there, and not a word more. I confess, I'm not even sure it was actually him." Biting her lip, the girl gripped her chin with her fingers, thoughtfully examining the planet in the Outer Rim. And no wonder. We had long been considering a plan for Ryloth. We had been sizing it up, finding out fresh data, and laying the groundwork so their senator couldn't even make a move against us... but the end was still far off. The planet, officially selling slaves, continued to supply Twi'leks to the entire galaxy, and we couldn't do anything if we didn't want trouble with the Republic. "It's dangerous to fly there... it could be a trap."
"It very well could be," drumming my fingers on the table, I sharply straightened my back, "but it doesn't hurt to check. Did you call the main office?"
"Of course. Но Raith hasn't appeared there since our conversation. He left the planet on his own ship, taking a couple of leading engineers from Corulag with whom he was on good terms." Forwarding all the data to me, Somnia also immersed herself in work and soon spoke again. "Besides, our old acquaintance from the Shackle Breakers, Naulo Shikra—has turned up on Ryloth..."
"That red-skinned Twi'lek? What an idiot, I asked him to wait... a few more years and we could have stormed Ryloth ourselves..." The dashing image of the former slave fighting for the liberation of his brothers and sisters in misfortune easily floated into my mind. Especially his zeal for the inhabitants of Ryloth... this certainly couldn't be a coincidence. "Sigh, this is definitely all connected somehow."
Smiling sadly, my deputy spread her hands.
"Alright, then we set course for Ryloth." Looking at everyone in turn, I finally decided to give the next order. "Prepare the men; we might have to return Holy Liberty to the planet much sooner than we anticipated."
***
(One month earlier)
"What a project, what scope, how much of everything..."
Enthusiastically speaking his joyful thoughts aloud, Narro Sienar was unpacking his things from his suitcases. Not that he carried a whole wardrobe with him, but he always brought a minimal set for comfort. And even such a quick departure from the main office, right after that exciting meeting...
"Well, not exactly a meeting, but rather... though, fine. Let the dull old farts on the board be happy when my words reach them."
The man was not bothered by the fact that only a quiet blue-skinned Twi'lek stood nearby. Hanging her head, she waited silently for the brilliant engineer to notice her, but considering that about forty minutes had already passed and he only continued to talk to himself, the girl was forced to speak first... overcoming her fear of punishment.
"Forgive me, master. My name is Ashiakala, but the masters call me simply Asha." Sienar's wide-eyed surprise was her answer. The genius clearly hadn't even suspected she was standing there, simply considering her something like part of the interior. "What will your orders be for me?"
"Um, what? Well, none, I suppose..."
Looking over the sexy body dressed in the bare minimum of clothing, Narro, as an exemplary father and loyal widower, turned away, trying not to stare at another woman, and an alien one at that.
"You can go, I can manage on my own."
"Of course, master. I will wait outside the door if you need me..."
The Twi'lek didn't have time to leave the spacious apartment before she was stopped by a new wave of surprise.
"What do you mean outside the door? Why the f... why?" Approaching her, he again encountered the flow of sexual energy the Twi'lek radiated. "You can go home, I'll handle everything myself. Heh-heh-heh... Mari, of course, said I was a f-up... I mean, irresponsible, but I can handle my things."
"I have no home. I was given to you, Mr. Sienar. Mr. Orn Free Taa gave me to you this morning... don't you remember?"
"What?!" The elder Sienar felt once again like that naive boy whose bold son-in-law almost took the company away. How?! How could he have missed such an event. "What do you mean gave? Are you a slave?"
"No! No, no, no." The girl clearly panicked. Falling to her knees, she bent in a humiliating bow, and the first tears began to flow from her eyes. "I am a hired worker. Just a worker, Mr. Sienar. Please, don't say that. Don't say that to anyone... Mr. Orn Free Taa hired me to work for you... to help... to care... to carry out instructions..."
Taken aback by such behavior, Narro, although he held prejudices against other races, still knelt down and helped the girl up. She was shaking with sobs and shrank in fear when he forced her to look him in the eye. True terror mixed with resignation to her fate was written on her face.
"Alright... you're a hired worker." Not particularly familiar with Twi'lek anatomy, Narro began stroking the appendages on her head—the lekku—hoping to calm her down. Though in the end, he achieved a different effect. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"I... everything is fine, Mr. Sienar. If that's what you want, I don't mind..."
In one movement, shedding the thin straps, Asha stood before him in her birthday suit, which made the man start to feel panic. The huge panoramic window was wide open. He had a meeting with colleagues scheduled soon, and here...
He, all handsome and professional, stands opposite a naked girl who is a slave...
"I mean, a hired worker. Better not say that out loud. I don't like women's tears."
"Stop. Um... pick that up... I mean. Get dressed." Picking up the thin threads from the floor, Narro tried to cover the girl's body with them, but the plan was a failure from the start. Then he dashed to his things and, pulling out the first shirt he found, tried to put it on Asha, but encountered an unexpected obstacle. "Damn, why are they so big? Dammit..."
Embarrassed by his own words, he tried one last time to button the shirt over the Twi'lek's naked body, but having failed to achieve success, he turned away.
"Cover yourself and explain everything normally! For God's sake! I don't need a sla... hired worker, I came here to work, not to have fun... Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you with that." Feeling a mix of rising anger and embarrassment, the man turned to face the girl, making sure she had covered her prominent features. He rarely experienced such emotions in his mature age and was angry all the more for it. "I just don't understand, why?"
"Mr. Orn Free Taa makes such gifts to all the influential people who visit the planet..." Swallowing tears, Asha clearly remembered some unpleasant things, and Narro didn't even have the heart to ask about it, though he really wanted to. "As a senator, Mr. Orn Free Taa is very generous and often makes such expensive gifts..."
"Senator? What the hell?" The elder Sienar rarely swore, especially after the birth of his first child, but today he had already broken his word to himself several times, which did not improve his mood. "So he gives everyone shapely Twi'leks... just like that?"
"Well, yes." Asha clearly didn't understand his confusion, but Narro's worldview was collapsing. Being a rather sheltered guy who grew up in the Core Worlds and dedicated himself entirely to engineering, he rarely encountered the realities of the world. And he had never traveled beyond the Inner Rim... and apparently, he should have. "Don't they do that where you're from?"
"What!? No, of course not. You're alive..." Faltering on that word, Narro first wanted to say "a living human," but the inherited racism kept nagging at him, so he limited himself to just one word. "I... dammit. What now? Can I return you?"
"Ye-es," the girl's lips trembled, and she began to turn pale rapidly, clearly even more terrified, "you can... I will contact Mr. Orn Free Taa's representative on the planet..."
Her teeth chattered, she could barely get the words out, and even the biggest fool would have understood that the girl did not crave returning to the wing of the fat representative of the planet.
"What will happen to you if you return?"
"I will be punished... like the others. Everyone is punished if one is at fault." Tears began to flow from the blue-skinned girl's eyes again. And Narro wasn't a cold-hearted stone, so he stroked her lekku a couple more times, urging her to calm down. "Oh... Mr. Sienar..."
Not paying attention to the change in her voice, the man returned to the window and quickly closed the curtains just in case, then leaned his hands on the windowsill. The decision had already been made, but for some reason, saying it out loud was difficult.
"What can you do?"
"Dance, sing, play various board games, I play six musical instruments, I perfectly know forty-six positions of pleasure..."
"Okay, stop. I meant useful household skills." With his cheeks turning red, Sienar recalled the Twi'lek's naked body, after which his imagination almost went wild, and questions like "Where did forty-six come from?!" kept spinning in his head. "Cleaning, laundry, cooking, do you know languages, do you know how to use the HoloNet, and how are you with computers?"
"Not bad." Hesitating, the girl nevertheless told everything as it was, not hiding the reasons. "Until I was sixteen, I was being trained as a secretary, and then my chest started growing fast, so..."
"Fine, you can stay. And let's skip the details... I'll set you up in the next room... and it's not up for discussion." Anticipating the response of the frightened Twi'lek, Narro waved his hand, calling for her silence. "You'll clean the apartment, manage my schedule, and answer calls when I'm not around."
"Thank you, Mr. Sienar. Thank you very much!"
***
***
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