WebNovels

Chapter 47 - Chapter 2

Strangely enough, this time we weren't flying to Nome's office, but somewhere outside the city. It turns out our "partners" had a small rural warehouse where we were directed. And Nome and Damask were already waiting for us there. I immediately noted that there was a minimum of live security, but as for robotic—on the contrary, a whole heap of it. Apparently, the two Darks decided to play it safe, but that's only right, considering the cargo we're carrying.

Examining the droids through the Force, I momentarily thought about the techniques that allow working with them. I remember the Kwa used Mechu-deru back in the day, a technique that allows one to sense mechanisms and understand them better. I had tucked it into my own holocron with the thought "I'll deal with it later," but no... Who would have thought how much I'd wish I had my own artifact back, eh... maybe I'd navigate all this electronics more easily, and not just electronics, probably.

Returning to the employers meeting us. They had played it safe—and how; besides the droids, I felt hidden turrets, and even one retractable tower with a heavy turbolaser, disguised as a warehouse watchtower.

And their faces—look how interested they are. How they watch, how they watch the ship, mmm... They feel the reactor, gentlemen Force-sensitives, I don't even need to look into their emotions, heh-heh-heh.

"You returned quickly," Damask greeted us as Warren and I descended the ramp.

"Pshhh, welcome back."

"Plans have changed slightly," I stepped forward. "Hello, Hego Damask, Rugess Nome," I saluted the Bith.

"Pshhh, what have you brought?"

"We have many interesting things. Shall we start with the small stuff? Or go straight to the most interesting part?"

"Pshhh, straight to the point," the Bith jerked his head.

"Then, please follow us onto the ship."

The Bith and the Muun calmly followed Warren and me into the cargo hold, where all the finds were neatly stacked. As soon as the Force-sensitive gentlemen stepped inside, both stopped dead in their tracks.

"A reactor powered by the Force. Not Rakatan technology, of course, but I thought you'd be interested. Was I wrong?"

Neither one nor the other answered. Both Darks stood as if mesmerized, staring at the reactor, processing the most vivid emotions within themselves.

"Seems I wasn't wrong," I smirked.

"I hope they don't... do us in," Dis nudged me with his elbow.

"I can do them in myself," I replied in the same tone. And I wasn't lying; the Bith's Force level was on par with mine, though it looked more like he was pumped on steroids. I wonder if he continued the work of that green gunk from my time?

"Pshhh. May I examine the find?" the first client came to life.

"Of course."

Nome immediately went to the core and, placing his hands on the casing, ostensibly checking for defects, felt out the reactor using the Force.

"And where did you find such an interesting specimen?" Damask glanced at us.

"Where we found it, it is no longer there. And it doesn't matter."

"M..." Damask expressed his dissatisfaction.

"Are you buying?"

"Of course we are. Rugess?"

"Pshhh... this is remarkable. Pshhh, I have never seen anything like it in my life. Pshhh... Even in Rakatan ships. Pshhh... I am prepared to offer two hundred million for this," the Bith looked at us.

The Mandalorians started glancing at each other; no wonder, such a haul, get it once—and you could never work again, but... I didn't agree. And so, folding my arms across my chest, I named a different price:

"Five hundred."

"..."

"..."

"..."

A suspicious silence fell over the hold. Everyone focused on me.

"Ahem. You have a healthy appetite."

"I know."

"Hm..."

"Are you buying?"

"Well... We are buying. But there is another problem here. If such a large sum is transferred to you—it could create a series of problems. For both you and us."

"What kind of problem are we talking about?"

"Republican fiscal authorities will definitely be interested in such a transfer, and in how you managed to acquire such funds. After all, it is a significant sum, and we do not need such attention, even through third parties. And Mandalorians, as far as I know, are under the supervision of Republican forces. Therefore... such a sum arriving in an account, even from different sources, will raise questions in any case. I do not think you would enjoy interacting with those unrefined and utterly immoral beings from the Judicial Department."

"And you are entirely right. But... Is Mandalore really that interesting to the Republic?" I emphasized the skepticism with my tone. "As far as I know, Mandalore is a planet no one cares about, currently in decline."

"Oh, no-no, not at all," the Muun gestured and elegantly ran his fingers over his chin. "I assure you, Mandalore is a very special planet, one that is watched very closely."

I looked at my teammates, sensing that I had been misinformed somewhere, but no. The guys themselves were standing there, not understanding what was happening. Folding my hands in front of me, I decided to go for closer contact with the Muun. I needed to know what kind of hole I was crawling into this time.

"Perhaps you could fill us in on the details then? For a reasonable discount, of course."

"No discounts are necessary," the Muun caught himself immediately. "Please, do not equate us with those vain, filthy, and treacherous creatures from the Senate and the Jedi Order. I and my colleague are honest entrepreneurs who feel sincere sympathy for your people, nothing more!"

"Right... I believe you," I hummed. The most interesting thing was that Damask was telling a half-truth. He wasn't lying completely, but it didn't smell like honesty either. It was as if he really did care, but not from the best of motives.

"And so that you have no doubt of this, let me tell you some details regarding your people."

"Just like that? Out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Truly so! For what happened to the Mandalorians, to you, to your great people—is a glaring injustice and an indicator of the true face of the Republic and the Jedi!"

"Hm... We're listening."

"It so happened that your people, with your noble campaigns during the Mandalorian Wars, drained a great deal of blood from the Republic in general, and the Jedi in particular. You are so hated that you are oppressed in every way. They don't let you gather, and as soon as Mandalore begins to rise from its knees, preemptive strikes immediately follow. Twice you were trampled into the ground and, moreover—Mandalorian society was driven to a split, the warrior clans were driven from their home planet, and pacifists were left in charge... Ultimately, it is beneficial for the Republic and the Senate for Mandalorian mercenaries to act in small groups or alone. It is beneficial for your people to be spread as thin as possible across the galaxy and, at the same time, for you to be unable to gather. And you know better than I the current deplorable state of your homeland. So yes—your world—after all the events associated with your people—continues to be watched. And if we transfer such a sum to your accounts—it will unequivocally raise questions. Both for you and for us..."

"And how do you know all this?"

"Well, we do look into those we hire. And, besides, as I said before, I sincerely sympathize with your people," the Muun placed a hand over his right heart. "And your enemy is not even the Republic—it is the Jedi. They are the ones responsible for what your planet has become. They are the ones who continue to remind the Senate of the Mandalorian threat. If you wish, you can verify this; no one makes a secret of it here, you just have to listen... and ask."

"I take it you're not fond of the Order?"

"What is there to love? Self-important beings, steeped in deception, groveling before the Senate. The Jedi have long been gone, Mr..."

"Shade."

"Thank you. Well, the Jedi have long been gone; only the name remains, and the Senate's lapdogs. So yes—we dislike them very much. Just as you do, wouldn't you say?"

"The enemy of my enemy?"

"Precisely. Therefore, my colleague and I prefer to work with your people. Yes, you ask questions—but you also do not talk."

"And what are you proposing regarding our deal?"

"I want to propose a compromise that might suit both you and us."

"For example?"

"There are several options. We can pay you in cash, in Hutt peggats. Но it will be in the form of several containers. And also—it will take us a lot of time to gather the required sum without attracting attention. We can issue untraceable chips. But there will be many of them too, and a much more significant problem arises with them—you won't be able to use such sums everywhere. In somewhere like the Corporate Sector, you shouldn't flash such funds on untraceable chips either... And not just in the Corporate Sector, I suppose. You'll be marked everywhere with them. And there is a third option—we open a credit line for you. Interest, of course, will have to be repaid, as will the principal, but we will do that ourselves. You, on the other hand, will simply be able to use this credit line like a regular bank chip. Here, of course, there is also a drawback; we cannot keep half a billion in this account, and even a hundred million is better not to keep. But ten or twenty—that's quite possible. And if you need a larger sum, you will need to notify the manager who will be handling your account."

"And you will know about all our purchases," I smirked.

"Yes... that is... a subtlety. For here, a question of mutual trust arises. But! Despite this drawback, if you intend to engage in legal business, the existence of such a credit line in itself speaks of you as a wealthy and promising client."

"Besides, pshhh, if you need to conduct a transaction, pshhh... let's say, by traditional and untraceable methods, pshhh, you can always transfer money from the credit line to an untraceable bank chip," Nome intervened in the conversation, finally detaching himself from the reactor. "Pshhh... The operation will undoubtedly require minor additional expenses, pshhh, but in return, you will always be able to use all the advantages of the methods we have proposed, pshhh... and avoid their accompanying drawbacks."

"Hm... I'll consult with my comrades?"

"Of course."

Leaving the cargo hold, we huddled in the lounge. Turning off the speaker, I addressed the Mandalorians over the internal comms:

"Well? What do you think?"

"Damn. I had no idea we were in such a hole. And it all makes sense!" Kaut exclaimed. "About fifty years ago, we tried to open a PMC. It was a joint initiative of the Concord Dawn clans and the Mandalorian authorities, but... as far as I know, it was dismantled by the then-Duke. Such sanctions were slapped on him that the newly formed organization had to be disbanded."

"And you couldn't have told me this earlier?!" I went at Kaut like a bull at an ant. He actually stepped back.

"Well, you didn't ask..."

"Alright, Shade, don't get worked up. How were we supposed to know what's important and what's not? We're not analysts, just simple mercenaries."

"I'm not getting worked up, it's just... fine, it doesn't matter. I hate surprises..." folding my arms across my chest, I loaded my brain with the new data and, discarding old drafts, tried to urgently figure out what to do now. Damn... I really miss "Sweet Joy." And Hadiya even more.

"Let's leave politics for now. What are we going to do now?" Warren looked at the guys.

"Yeah. Won't these 'entrepreneurs' kill us? It's easier for them to kill us than to pay. And, as we've found out, not out of greed, but so that no one bothers them."

"No one's going to eliminate us, Zer, calm down. Only a fool would cut off the head of the source of such goodies. What we brought them aren't small toys."

"Point taken..."

"Five hundred million, guys! Five hundred million..."

"Kaut, cool it."

"Shade, maybe take it in cash? Republican credits."

"That much? Are you kidding? You'd need an armored bank transport for that," Dis answered for me. "At least to make it all fit."

"Or a Banking Clan frigate."

"Which is essentially the same thing."

"And then bring it and distribute it among the clans."

"And no one will be surprised when everyone suddenly gets a little richer in our corner!"

"Well, yeah..."

"Five hundred million... Five hundred million... What money... What a pain. Damned Jedi. Damned Senate..."

"Shade, what do you think? You've suddenly gone quiet."

"Tch. I'm thinking."

"About what?"

"How not to get you buried."

"Eh?"

Sighing, I explained:

"How to be here and what to do. If Damask is right, and we have no reason not to believe him—at least because everything he said looks logical—then we have big problems. Ve-ery big ones.

"Oh come on, we'll manage. It's not the first time. If not by transfer, then by cash."

"It's not about the money, Zer. Not about the money. It's that Mandalore is being watched. Damask made it clear that as soon as you wake up, a slipper comes flying at you. That means we need to act carefully and quietly. At least until we can give a proper rebuff in case of trouble. And we won't be able to fight back for a long time. Yes, you're tough warriors, guys, but a population of four million is nothing. If Coruscant spits on you, you'll damn well drown..."

"So what are we going to do?"

"Hm..." thoughtfully tapping the chin of my helmet, I looked Warren up and down. "My friend, tell me, please, what is my current status? Formally, on paper."

"Formally—you aren't a Mandalorian yet, and your documents are in order. But! At the moment, you are entered into the registry as someone who will receive Mandalorian citizenship. To do that, you need to pass the initiation rite and join a clan."

"Perfect! Then cross me off that list, or better yet, make it so I never even appeared there."

"Eh..." my companions were a bit shocked.

"Relax, I'm not leaving the ship. But I'm starting to build a new one. Since Mandalore and you are being watched, it means—we need someone from the outside."

"Someone who doesn't have our documents," Dis caught on.

"Someone about whom absolutely nothing is known," Kaut added.

"Someone we can trust and who isn't indifferent to the fate of Mandalore," Warren finished. As he said it, everyone was looking at me.

"Exactly. And, what's more, we hit two targets at once. First, I stay off the observers' radar... for the time being. And second, if these characters," I nodded back, "decide to screw us over, only I'll have to answer, not the clans."

"Shade, you're setting yourself up."

"And what does a dead man have to lose?" I laughed softly.

"Right."

"And it doesn't bother you that they'll be aware of the spending?"

"Not at all. As Rugess said, you can always transfer it to cash, and just try to track it after that."

"Point taken..."

"But what about the fact that you were in our squad?"

"Who knows who you were hanging out with! Mandalorians run all over the galaxy, after all. The main thing is that I haven't managed to make a mark anywhere, because hiding a Force-user with Forcesabers among your lot is impossible. And Rugess and Damask will keep quiet."

"I have a feeling that pair will try to use you."

"They'll definitely try, that's not even up for debate. Those beetles have been leading the Jedi Order by the nose their whole lives, just so you understand. And while they're using me, I'll be using them."

"What about the Jedi? They know who you are."

"To hell with the Jedi; they won't do anything to me. Before the law, I'm a law-abiding citizen who isn't even connected to you because I simply didn't appear in public."

"But they're looking for you."

"They're looking for me like a lost child. Let them look; if they find me—it's their own fault. I made it clear to them that our paths don't cross. Oh, by the way..."

"What is it?"

"I was thinking that Nome's connections wouldn't hurt, but never mind, we'll manage. For starters—we'll need to organize a separate company, get it running, and then we'll act through it. For now, we'll use a trick and register me as a private entrepreneur who is just about to start a business."

"If that's the case, let the whole sum stay in your account."

"Hey!"

"I don't know about you, Kaut, but I wouldn't be able to manage such funds correctly. Never mind the fact that all of this actually belongs to Shade."

"Wait, Dis," I stopped the Mandalorian, "I suggest this: the proceeds from the reactor go to me; I'll use them to run the company. The archaeological finds, on the other hand, we'll put through an official auction, or sell to our clients," I nodded back, "in any case—the money will be legitimate. Yes, it's a lot, but you guys should get lucky sometimes too, right?"

"I agree," Dis raised his hand.

"Me too," Zer.

"Wait, Shade..."

"What, Worr?"

"You'll be doing a business unrelated to us, but what should we do in that case?!"

"The same as always. Give a punch to the teeth of anyone the employer points to. Only, this time, formally, the employer will be me, and we'll be punching the teeth of those who interfere with building the business. Ang'hyer?"

"What's that?"

"I'm asking—is that acceptable?"

"More than."

"Kaut?"

"Five hundred million..." the Mandalorian was banging his head against the wall.

"Kaut!"

"Yes, yes, I'm in! But five hundred million..."

"This money will go to the good of Mandalore, brother!" Dis slapped his partner on the shoulder. "For the first time in so many years, we'll have an ally."

"Let it go, or better yet, if I carry it myself. Can I?"

"Tch," Warren turned toward the passage.

"Well, at least I'll look at it!"

On that note, we returned to the hold. Damask and Nome were calmly waiting for us by the reactor, continuing to examine the find. I noticed no attempt at theft or sabotage; both were extremely focused and, most interestingly, I didn't hear a desire to screw us over within them.

Yes, there was interest. A lot of interest, especially from the Bith, and especially—personally toward me. I felt that sensation right in my back. But they didn't want to eliminate us, nor did they want to cheat us; that's a fact. Rather, they were baiting us. It seems someone decided to repeat history and take the Mandalorians into service again... If my memory serves me, the Darks back in the day raised Mandalore only to later set it on the Order. If they're planning to pull something like that off, I'll be forced to disappoint them, but for now, we'll play along.

"Pshhh. So?"

"We agree to your terms. The credit will be registered to me, under the pretext of starting a new business."

"And you..." the Muun gestured toward me, but I already knew what he wanted to ask.

"I am not a Mandalorian, if that's what you mean."

"Oh!" the Muun was truly surprised. "You are not a Mandalorian, yet you wear Mandalorian armor?"

"Formally, I have Coruscant documents. Any more questions?"

"But that is wonderful!!! That makes things much simpler! So, do we have a deal?"

And so it was decided. We handed over the reactor to the buyers and, while the loaders were busy moving it manually, Damask quickly drafted a preliminary contract. And at the same time, he showed what the credit agreement would look like. Skillful, what else can I say; the Muun plays very skillfully with documents.

The only thing is, the credit will be finalized within eight days. This is neither good nor bad, because I need to decide on a firm, find a place for it, file the documents for all of this—never mind the staff. There! That's why I always stayed away from power. And, judging by the Muun's look, he understood me perfectly and was gloating. Bastard. Well, never mind—never mind, because there is such a wonderful position as a deputy. Though, finding a competent, skilled, and loyal one—is quite a task, as Hadiya would testify.

While the contract was being drafted, I delved into the HoloNet—looking for a suitable planet, and also seeing who was doing what and with what success. After all, what do I need? I need a planet far from prying eyes, preferably—one that no one cares about, and consequently—with untapped potential. It shouldn't be completely in the ass-end of the world, but at the same time, far from the Core Worlds. Ideally, if it's near major hyperlanes. In that case—it won't matter what's on the planet; at the very least—one could organize a small trading company. Hm... Actually. Why not?

The same time. Tenebrous's Laboratory

"Pshhh. Remarkable! Pshhh... magnificent. What a, pshhh, work of art!" the Bith was carefully examining the Force-powered reactor. "Pshhh... do you see, Plagueis? I do not need foresight to know what comes next."

"Yes, Master."

"Pshhh... A very, very interesting specimen has come to us. Pshhh... a real reactor working on the Unifying Force... pshhh... I knew! I knew it... pshhh... existed."

"And what is the difference, Master? We had samples of Rakatan reactors."

"Pshhh... fool. Pshhh... Rakatan technology is imperfect. Pshhh... they require sacrifice, they require negativity that can be obtained through torture. Pshhh... but this, this is a completely different level. Pshhh... this reactor—is the embodiment of perfection. Pshhh... if its secrets are solved, if I can adapt them and embody them in a living being... pshhh... you cannot even imagine the prospects this opens. Pshhh... With them, the strongest Force-user in our entire history can be created."

"That is well, Master, but I am concerned about our new workers."

"Pshhh... were you able to find out anything?" the Bith turned to the Muun.

"Relatively. Regarding the Mandalorians—nothing new, but about their Force-sensitive squad member—I managed to uncover something."

"Pshhh... speak."

"Having obtained his documents, I checked them against official sources through the Banking Clan, as well as through... shadow partners. Strangely enough, it was the former who brought us information. The latter, even with a name and surname in hand, found nothing."

"Pshhh... how interesting..."

"That is not what is interesting, Master. But that Shade Aero has documents made 'yesterday'," with that, the Muun held out a datapad with a photo of the face of the person being credited. The photo depicted a strange half-breed, a cross between a human and a Togruta. The photo itself already piqued Darth Tenebrous's interest, for as a biologist—he knew—such half-breeds could not exist in a natural environment. Only through genetic engineering could such a viable product be obtained.

And if so, who could have created such a specimen and for what purpose? And endowed with the Force, at that. Does this mean there is someone else in the galaxy who, like him, is studying and experimenting with midi-chlorians? And if so, who? Tenebrous wouldn't believe that Aero was a genetic product of the Order even in a drunken stupor. No. There was too little information. Looking at his apprentice, he asked:

"Pshhh... and what next?"

"Nothing. Shade Aero literally came from nowhere. We don't even know how he crossed paths with the Mandalorians. He has no past, literally none. Nothing at all. And I would suspect he changed his name and started life with a clean slate, but... Such a face cannot be hidden. Unless it was intentionally deleted from databases. All databases and at once. But such a thing is beyond even our power; there should have been traces left in any case, but there are none. One could assume he is from the Outer Rim, if not for his mannerisms. I saw a seasoned, confident warrior; such are trained from birth."

"Pshhh... did you check Mandalore?"

"First thing. And I found out that he was only planning to join them. He cannot be a Mandalorian, Master. We have no other leads."

"Pshhh... interesting. Pshhh... Very interesting," the Bith lowered his head slightly and, placing a hand on the breathing apparatus on his chest, thoughtfully drummed his fingers on it.

"Master, his connection to the Force bothers me. He feels very... strange. Before I couldn't compare, but now I can say that there is a connection felt between him and this reactor."

"Pshhh... you are right, Plagueis. Aero is no ordinary Force-sensitive. Pshhh... I think he is—a genetically modified, artificially created specimen. Pshhh... He knows how to hide in the Force, his aura is concealed, which means he is—trained. How and by whom? Pshhh... Unknown. That remains to be found out. Pshhh... but it is not for nothing that the Mandalorians began finding ancient relics with his appearance. Pshhh... and his sabers. Did you see them? Pshhh-pshhh... Did you feel them? They are created with the same design as this reactor. Pshhh... apparently, he found them in one of the runs, but the fact that he is capable of using them—already speaks volumes. Pshhh..."

"The Unifying Force?"

"Pshhh... Precisely. Plagueis, I need samples of his blood. Pshhh... do you understand me?"

"Yes, Master."

"I need his gene... pshhh... I need to know his midi-chlorian count. Pshhh... But act carefully. Pshhh... We cannot allow such a promising... Pshhh... assistant to break away through stupidity."

"I understand you, Master. But... Are you sure this is a good idea? It seems to me that Aero is too unpredictable to bet on. Do you really think he will follow the path of building Mandalore?"

"Pshhh... even if not, we will push him. Pshhh... and help.

"And if he refuses?"

"Pshhh... he won't refuse. Pshhh... we won't give him a reason. Pshhh... Mandalore is rising again, Plagueis. Pshhh... slowly. And with reluctance. Pshhh... but it is rising. And they will try to bring it to heel again. We must prevent this, and our new... pshhh... assistant will be an excellent banner. Pshhh... yes, he decided to be for them; that is to our advantage. Pshhh... In the past, Mandalorians made a significant contribution to the Sith war. Pshhh... they, as before—hate the Jedi; such opportunities must not be missed. Pshhh... such an army of loyal warriors."

"I'm afraid it's not quite like that. I heard that the Mandalorians are currently split into three movements..."

"M?"

"The True Mandalorians, the New Mandalorians, and some radicals who want war. Our new workers belong to the first category."

"Pshhh... three factions, you say? Pshhh... look at them, Plagueis. Pshhh... suspiciously in time, a split is brewing in their society, pshhh, such coincidences are not accidental."

"Yes, Master. And what shall we do now with Shade?"

"Pshhh... keep an eye on him. He intends to build a company, which means... pshhh, he will need personnel. Try to push one of yours; you have suitable debtors... pshhh..."

"The Banking Clan has many debtors," the Muun smirked.

"Yes... Pshhh, but not directly. Let him find them himself... Pshhh... and also, we need to understand who was behind him."

"Was? Maybe still is?"

"Pshhh... unlikely. Aero acts out of his own interests and the interests of the Mandalorians around him. Pshhh... I think the previous master was finished by the Mandalorians surrounding Aero. Pshhh... But check, in any case, you must. Pshhh... I leave this to you, Plagueis."

"Yes, Master."

***

Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: patreon.com/Granulan

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