Right... Corellia. I was essentially here yesterday, and it feels as if I haven't flown to the planet for years. That's what a saturation of events means.
"Weapon license?" I heard a law enforcement officer's voice behind me.
"I'm a Mandalorian—this is my license," Dis raised his voice. Turning around, I saw that local law enforcement had picked on my "bodyguard."
"You can't enter the city without a license," they blocked the Mandalorian's path. Psychos.
"Everything's fine," approaching them from behind, I drew attention to myself. "He's with me; here is his license," I held out a tablet with an active advertising brochure. "It's in order; we can pass."
"Everything is in order; you may pass," the officer nodded, returning the tablet. "Move along."
The Mandalorian silently walked forward, lingering with his gaze on the guard for a couple of seconds. Moving away from the post, Dis glanced at me.
"I've seen you do it before, of course, but I'm still amazed."
"The Force, my friend, can do much. Come, this way."
Turning to the parking lot, we got into the car waiting for us. Taking the wheel, Dis immediately lifted the machine into the sky and turned it toward the TNC office.
"Shade, I don't get it, why do I need to be your 'bodyguard'?"
"I'm going to stuff your lot everywhere I possibly can, including personal security."
"Wouldn't it be better to hide us from extra eyes instead?"
"No. This time we'll be hiding in plain sight. Since we've attracted attention, we'll act more unconventionally." Turning away from Dis, I looked out the window at the passing houses and cars. "The only thing is, I'm thinking whether to put one of yours at the head of RAVEN."
"What's the problem?"
"It's a double-edged sword, Dis. For as we know, you aren't allowed to create military structures. And here there will be a private PMC working for me. I think that as soon as something like that appears with a Mandalorian at the head, certain individuals will immediately start stirring. On the other hand—why the hell not?"
"In what sense?"
"We have a young company that needs protection," I turned back to him. "If it's protected by a PMC made of Mandalorians—it will be a f*cking great business card for the entire criminal underworld. Moreover, those who are protecting you are doing it quietly, so what's stopping us from going for live bait? If they are provoked? Good. We'll find and destroy them. If not? Also good. In any case, everyone will think of anything but HIT helping Mandalore through TNC."
"Wait, we already know who our enemy is."
"Really?"
"You said yourself that from the Jedi come..."
"I only passed on Damask's words. Believing a Sith at his word? Dis, that's not even funny. Yes, Damask gave us part of the truth, but his enemy is the entire Order, and that's why he portrays them all as goats."
"And isn't that the case?"
"There are both good and bad individuals everywhere. Even among the Jedi, there might be Force-sensitives I'd be happy to sit and chat with over a cup of vork."
"I don't recall anyone seeing even one such Jedi anywhere."
"That's because, ha-ha-ha, they all leave the Order," I laughed, wiping away a stray tear. "Others might stay only because they have nowhere else to go and simply don't know any other life."
"But they go to the Order themselves!" the Mandalorian glanced at me in the rearview mirror.
"No, Dis. Before, the Order was exactly that—an Order. Great and powerful. I respect those who were able to build it; they were strong personalities. Nevertheless, that wouldn't stop me from taking it apart stone by stone with great joy. But now... it's no longer an Order, but a sect. Do you understand that I! I!!! Am ashamed of them?! And what is it like for the senior Jedi of the old school, looking at their descendants from the Force? Terrifying to imagine. The traditions, commandments, culture have changed; it's not the same Order it was a thousand years ago. And their approach to children is different. They take children at a very early age. A Jedi must not have attachments, so the little ones forget their real parents and consider the temple their home. They have no choice; their fate was decided the day they first gave blood. After that, an uncle or aunt flies to the parents, paints a colorful picture of how good it will be for their child, and takes the child from the family. I remind you that there are 'mind trick' techniques, and Jedi are prone to using them quite often, and by the time the parents come to their senses, the trail has long gone cold."
Making a small pause for a breath, I continued:
"Every organization, every order grows followers, instilling their views. It's not bad or good; it just is. What's bad here is exactly what views are instilled in the child and how they do it. Over the past twenty-five thousand years, dark adepts have been destroyed more than once or twice, but every time an escapee from the light side is found who goes over to the dark side. Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, three is a pattern, and four—that's a system. And you know, something tells me that there's something not quite right with their educational system."
"Heh-heh-heh, that's putting it mildly."
"But, returning to the enemies. The Order remains the Order. It has dogmas and foundations. If anyone among the Jedi wants you harm, it's individuals, not the entire Order."
"Why?"
"Because you're f*cking useless to them. In the sense, as an Order. Yes, dangerous, so what? You were dropped to such a level long ago that the most you can do is crap on the doorstep. Sorry, but that's a fact."
"I know it myself," Dis twitched his cheek. "There's no real army, no fleet, the economy is bursting," the Mandalorian sighed sadly. "One thing pleases me: soon, very soon, my people will breathe a full breath."
"Yes... Listen, Dis, do you think yours would join the Hadian Empire again if one appeared?"
"What do you mean 'if'?!" the Mandalorian protested.
"Exactly what it means. The Empire is dead, Dis. That's the truth, and it, specifically it, cannot be returned. Moreover, I didn't build it; I was only a witness and a direct participant in its birth. The most I can do is create the ground for a new state that will bear the same name. How should I put it... it's like an unattainable dream you're moving toward, which you want to see with all your heart, but you realize that it won't be exactly that."
"Exactly that, it won't be. But maybe it will be possible to make it better?" He looked at me in the mirror.
"You're overestimating me," I smirked. "Wayyyyyyyyy overestimating me."
"We'll see."
So, through conversation, the time to the TNC office flew by completely unnoticed.
"And we're being met," Dis noted.
"I see," I replied, without opening my eyes. Derick was standing on the street in the company of his newly bought protocol droid.
Landing, I was the first to leave the car.
"Boss," he nodded in greeting.
"Derick. Tell me."
"The Jedi is waiting for you in the lounge."
"To hell with the Jedi, what about you guys?"
"Ah... Everything is on schedule. I've prepared the package, as you asked; I didn't send it, so—here," I was handed a deactivated tablet.
"Good."
"Construction work is underway, the consequences of the incident are being eliminated very quickly; it hasn't affected the overall pace in any way. The only thing is, I had to pay a small compensation."
"Good, and what about..."
So, prodding Derick for some non-obvious details, we reached the lounge. Then the TNC director went to the office, Dis stayed at the entrance, and I went inside.
A middle-aged man, about forty, of the human people in a gray cloak. A pleasant, neat appearance, a stern face with slightly narrowed eyes—this was who met us inside. If not for the emotions, it would have been quite good. Apparently, they want to tell me a lot about my delay. Although, I give him credit, not a muscle twitched on his face.
"Hello, Shade Aero," the Jedi bowed respectfully. Grimacing slightly, I looked at him: "Really? Hide your emotions, novice."
"Yes, yes, greetings," passing by, I dropped into a chair. "Is something wrong with my face?" I drew attention to the small hesitation that had arisen.
"No, no, not at all. It's just that I thought it was a joke, but no. Very little time has passed, and you've already achieved such heights..."
"There's that. And, since everything is fine, I ask you to sit down and quickly lay out why the hell I should give you my attention and precious time," leaning back on the sofa, I crossed my arms over my chest. To my surprise, the Jedi did not flare up with negative emotions; rather there was something in the spirit of: "they've completely lost it, not only do they wander anywhere they please, but they also imagine themselves to be whoever they want."
"Yes... of course," the Jedi nodded slightly sluggishly and thoughtfully, sitting down opposite me. "My name is Tren Force. I am the authorized representative of the KTS, the Cathar Trade Union."
KTS, KTS... what are these guys doing here? As far as I know, the KTS is a collection of planets near the Mandalorian sector. They are part of the Trade Federation. But what are they doing on Mandalore? Although... if you think about it, they are the ones who supply goods, and they are the ones who buy up the goods produced in the Mandalorian sector... No, the guys have set themselves up more than well, but how are they involved here?!
"And, what do they want from me?" I asked directly.
"What is your interest on Mandalore?"
"Purely business. I'm a businessman," I spread my arms. "I own an enterprise on a dangerous planet in a not-so-peaceful sector of the galaxy. Consequently, I care about the safety of my assets. And the Mandalorians are some of the best mercenaries, capable of solving big problems with small forces."
"And do you have problems?" the Jedi arched an eyebrow in mock surprise.
"Who doesn't? Except for the dead. Although, no," I recalled my mother, "some deceased can be oh so restless..."
"For example, returning after twenty-five millennia?"
"That happens too. And some don't even live to forty. By the way, how old are you?"
"Thirty-eight."
"Well, you see? You still have everything ahead of you," I winked. "But seriously, I was delayed precisely because on my planet..."
"On your planet?"
"Yes, imagine that. I can even show you the documents," I smirked.
"No need, I believe you."
"More likely, you've already checked."
"Not without that," the Jedi nodded.
"In short, I had to exert myself a bit to organize seven hundred corpses."
"And you confess to mass murder so calmly?"
"Is there some problem with that?" I arched my eyebrows in surprise.
"By the laws of the Republic..."
"But!" I interrupted. "Tatooine is not in the Republic's jurisdiction."
"But you are a citizen of the Republic."
"You can address the head of Tatooine. He's right in front of you," I spread my arms.
"I suspect I already know the answer."
"Yes. An amusing legal quirk. Seven hundred corpses, and no responsibility. Moreover, I could even be rewarded!"
"And for what should you be rewarded?"
"For saving the Republic's budget."
"And is the saving great?"
"Well... as far as I know, something like a million credits. Among the individuals I destroyed was even a type who had been sentenced to death in absentia on eight worlds. The bounty on his head, as you understand, is corresponding."
"Right... Perhaps the Judicial Department might even be generous with some kind of certificate."
"I'll definitely drop by them sometime," and to myself I added, for another reason.
"So that means your relations with Mandalore are exclusively business?"
"Not quite. After all, mercenaries work for money. And I'd very much not like someone to outbid my guards," I nodded at Dis outside the door.
"So that's why you established relations with Clan Stick through the supply of medical supplies?"
"Precisely. Through the efforts of the Republic and specifically the Order, such a thing means a lot to them, and I, at the same time, also save quite a bit. Did I happen to disrupt some mission of the Order there?" I leaned forward.
"I wouldn't call it a mission."
"Yes, the word 'provocation' seems more appropriate to me too."
"What are you saying? What provocation are you talking about?" the Jedi arched his eyebrows.
"The most ordinary kind. Which could have ended in thousands of corpses and a prolonged civil war."
"There is no need for such loud words, especially since they contradict reality. The Jedi Order—guardians of peace and order..."
"Yeah, with the help of a sword and a dagger," I finished. "No guys, say what you want, but you won't change in my eyes. You'd be better off chasing criminals than meddling in internal squabbles," I shook my head.
The Jedi puffed with indignation and chewed his lip.
"If that's the case, perhaps we can convince you by inviting you to visit the Order's temple?"
"I think I've already seen your sights," I smirked. "I don't want any more."
"You saw far from everything. And you left us far too quickly."
"Royal traditions—leaving without saying goodbye, heard of them? Long goodbyes—bitter tears..." but seeing how my interlocutor froze, I waved it off. "Ah, don't mind it."
"In any case, you remain wrong. My advice to you—don't try to hang invented dogs on the Order; it might come back to haunt you."
I just shrugged at that. We'll see what, to whom, and when it comes back to haunt.
"Returning to the Mandalorians... they cost an indecent amount. May I ask where you get such funds? This is not for a report."
"Arranged an inheritance."
"An inheritance? After... so many years?" there was not even skepticism in his voice, but sarcasm.
"Well yeah, what's wrong with that?"
"It's hard to believe."
"And that's your problem. You asked—I answered," I leaned back. "Currently—I have excellent relations with the Banking Clan, which financed the additional expenses."
"Where from?!"
"I don't give away clients' secrets; address them directly."
The Jedi puffed with dissatisfaction again, but remained silent.
"As you wish, but if you're starting trade in Mandalore space, I recommend you visit the KTS office to prevent conflict situations and resolve disagreements. For they live there and have long since divided everything, and here you are..."
"Tren," I interrupted the Jedi. "Listen. My business with Mandalore is mine alone. I need mercenaries. Reliable, serious, well-organized mercenaries I can rely on. And I will do everything in my power for that."
"But Aero, there are other mercenary organizations with corresponding reputations. Why specifically the Mandalorians?"
"It just happened that way," I spread my arms. "Hired one squad, they proved themselves well and recommended the rest. As practice has already shown, I made a good choice, for the Outer Rim is far from the safest place."
"I understand. But perhaps it was worth turning to the Republic then? Worlds under the Republic's protectorate are under its protection."
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha..." the laughter that broke through was so strong that tears actually came to my eyes. "...ha, ye-e-eah, good joke. I can see that peace and order reign in the Republic worlds. No thanks, I'll somehow manage myself."
"We'll return to this question later. You simply don't understand what preferences can be gained from it."
"I don't understand," I nodded. "But I perfectly understand what kind of headache can be gained. But let's not talk about that; you're here for another reason. And if you've received all the answers, I'll ask you to leave."
"If you'll permit, I'd like to ask a few more questions."
"Ask away."
So, sitting in the Jedi's company for another twenty minutes, I saw the guest out. Politics... I hate politics. Brr...
"Shade?"
"Come in, Dis."
"How did it go?"
"So-so. On the other hand, if I decide to go into charity for the benefit of Mandalore, no one will have questions about why I need it."
"That's good then!"
"Yes, only it's unclear who wants you harm."
"Shade, be simpler. No one likes us," the Mandalorian smirked. "Not the Jedi, not the Republic, and certainly not our neighbors."
"That's true. Alright, go for a walk; I'm going to have another meeting now."
"With who?" the Mandalorian was surprised.
"Talia. She just entered the building."
"Your sorcery again?"
"The very same."
"Eh... and I definitely can't be taught that?"
"Alas, pal, you don't have the gift."
"Pity."
The Mandalorian went out the door, while I sent an invitation to Talia.
"Zero, you recorded everything, right?" I glanced at the droid, which beeped in confirmation. "Good. Talia is coming now; you don't need to record the conversation with her."
About five minutes later there was a knock at the door, and my lovely legal support appeared in the passage.
"Chief?"
"Talia, greetings. Come in, sit down."
"I take it I don't need to unpack my things?" she placed her bag nearby.
"We'll find out in a moment. Would you like anything?"
"Only tea, if possible."
"Zero?" the droid immediately redirected the request.
"So why did you call me?"
"I want to talk to you. You've surely noticed a lot of oddities around me, especially regarding my requests and wants."
"Well..." the girl shyly looked away.
"No need, I already know it's true."
"Yes. You are strange. But Mom says she's had to work with worse, and you're still more or less normal, and besides, you give me bonuses regularly."
"Heh. In short, I want to have a serious talk with you. What I'm about to say is not for other ears, but this way you'll understand what is being done and why, and perhaps you'll be able to help me with it."
"I take it getting off the ship won't be possible afterward?"
"Yes."
"And what are the pros?"
"Reliable support, both financial and physical. It's good when thugs like Dis are ready to stand up for you."
"That's true, but I don't want to lose my head in skirmishes between gangs."
"Talia," I looked reproachfully at the girl.
"What?"
"What gangs? We're talking about a planetary level."
"Ah..."
"Sun, nothing threatens you and nothing will, and anyone who dares to offend you will speak with me personally," just then a droid entered the room with the drink.
"Well... Alright. Mom believes you, and I haven't noticed anything bad," taking the tea, the girl turned to me.
"I'll start from afar. The rumors that I am over twenty-five thousand years old—are not rumors at all. I really am from the distant past," the girl coughed quietly. "Don't ask how, accept it as a fact. Hence my lack of education and other flaws. Further, it so happened that the Mandalorians were allies of my home. Now the home is gone, but the Mandalorians are here, and I want to help them. They have many enemies, so acting directly doesn't work."
"And that's why you created TNC?"
"Yes. Initially TNC was supposed to be a front, but it turned out better than expected, and the front became a quite promising company. However, the main goal hasn't gone anywhere, namely—helping the Mandalorians. I know you've been digging into that contract for medical supplies. It's all a decoy; in reality—the company just buys medical supplies at cost and resells them to Concord Dawn at exactly the same price. But that's only the first step. The next step will be food and equipment. We'll fly to the Corporate Sector for that stuff. Inconvenient questions are rarely asked of clients who have proven their solvency there."
"I understand everything. You want to order everything needed in the CS under the pretext of Tatooine, but redirect it to the Mandalorian sector."
"Yes. And also—no one will know when we take several of our drilling rigs and redirect them to Mandalore as well."
"Beskar?"
"Including that."
"Clever."
"This is only the beginning, Sweetheart," rising, I walked in a circle. "I want to create a reliable foundation under us. Both military and economic."
"I take it we're talking about a new state?"
"Yes."
"Chief... states don't arise out of nowhere."
"I know. But we have all the prerequisites and resources for it. And time... I have enough of it. Those like me live a long time. The only thing is, I need hands and brains."
"I understand," lowering her eyes, Talia looked at one point. "Well... if that's the case, then everything becomes clear. And, I admit, very interesting. It's much more than what I was counting on."
"As a Force-user, I hear your emotions, Sun. You're quite the clever one, you love and know how to use your appearance, but what's most important—you aren't trying to deceive me. You're interested in what you do, you value what I give you, you try to push the company, and you aren't afraid to correct me. Yes, you are young, but you have enough experience. What do you say? Do you want to participate in this?" with that, I sat down next to her.
"And do I still have a choice?" the girl turned to me.
"If you refuse, I'll just return you to TNC, and there, in about ten years, I think you'll be able to leave with a decent amount of money in your pocket. You could even start your own business; you'll have the experience after all," I nudged her slightly with my elbow.
"What about the threats?"
"What threats?"
"Well, in the sense, to my health... Well, you know."
"Ha-ha-ha-ha... Oh, Talia. You aren't the type to blab to anyone, even if I were to show you the door right now. Simply because you're smart enough to keep your mouth shut. I'm giving you a choice between simple and quiet work in TNC, or a huge headache next to me. But the perks will be different too."
"Hm..." the girl raised her eyes to the ceiling. "You say you're twenty-five thousand years old?"
"Formally. Why?"
"You don't look it. Well, maximum—thirty."
"Heh, yes, I've preserved well."
"Chief..."
"You can call me by name."
"Thank you. Shade... tell me, who are you?"
"In what sense?"
"You're from the past. You want to build a new state. You wield this... what is it... Force?" I nodded. "There. You know how to fight. Are you a Jedi from the past?"
"No, I'm a Tythonian, Talia. The last Tythonian. Bit of a warrior, bit of a diplomat, bit of a politician..."
"And also modest, and a total cutie."
"Ha-ha-ha-ha... ye-e-eah."
"My point is that just anyone couldn't have done what you've already done."
"Let's put it this way, Sun. I am the one who helped the Hadian Empire be born. Just a little bit," with that, I accompanied the words with a gesture.
"M..." she sized me up with a look again, only now more interested.
"So what do you say?"
"Of course, I'm in. Such big things are being done here, naturally I want to participate in them!"
"We could use a competent manager too, and then it would be truly splendid."
"Hm... I think I can help with that. Remember I said I have a friend?"
"The one whose uncle works in the Judicial Department?"
"Aha. He's a good manager, and a reliable character himself, idealistic."
"I don't think you can work there and stay clean or untainted."
"You're right. But not everyone rots to the core. Uncle has a spine left. And besides, he has extensive connections and rich experience. He could not only be a manager but also act as a diplomat, and on many levels at once."
"What an interesting character."
"If you offer him a worthy cause and guarantee his family's peace and prosperity, he'll be happy to help us."
"Does he have some problems in the Department?"
"Not problems exactly; rather, he's hit a glass ceiling. He's fed up with everything, and he can't change anything because they don't let him grow further. Too honest, by their standards."
"Yes... we could use such a recruit. But everything in its own time. Now we're flying to the Corporate Sector; we'll get some humanitarian aid for the Mandalorians there, and also look for specialists for the future research center there. After that, to your friend. You've hired assistants, right?" a nod. "Load them with work on RAVEN; let them prepare the papers."
"Alright."
"That's all for now."
"Chief... Shade, and this..."
"What?"
"Can you invite me to a café too? I want to go as well, since you went with Mom. Moreover, through your efforts, I haven't been out anywhere in a long time."
"Ah, so it means I'm to blame too?!"
"Yes!"
"Pha-ha-ha, oh, alright. So be it, we'll go, but in the Corporate Sector. Deal?"
"Aha."
"Alright, go, move your things."
"And you?"
"And I'm going to torment Derick so he gets his own legal staff. F*ck..."
"What's wrong?"
"I just realized I need to create another structure."
"Which one?"
"The one responsible for industry! Because hanging production on TNC would be overkill."
"Um... Should I get on it?"
"Yes."
"Okaaaaaay."
"And two trips to a café are on me."
"Oh! I'm holding you to your word, Chief!"
"Go on now!" I pushed the girl off the sofa. "Just don't turn your nose up; I have a whip too."
"Ooooh, I didn't think you were a lover of the exotic," Talia smirked provocatively and arched seductively, putting on display charms that weren't exactly outstanding but definitely present.
"Talia!"
The door slammed under my cry, and the giggling Twi'lek left me alone with the silent droid.
"What are you looking at, Zero? Call Derick."
"Accepted."
***
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