Ithorians are notoriously spiritual creatures, always wanting to care for others and defend the natural world.

I don't know what it was that made the Bottom Line forsake those ideals so definitively, but the three old, grey-skinned Ithorians before me were notoriously pragmatic and world-weary.

"What lies before us?" one of them asked, in their deep and gutterall language. Luckily they had a protocol droid nearby to interpret.

"My name is Ahor."

The droid translated my words back to them. A deep rumbling rippled through the walls.

The three Ithorians sat at a single long desk, with one bulb above them lighting the room. I suppose they didn't have much need for lights in general.

Ithorian's eyes were often prone to cancer in the later stages of their life, so it wasn't uncommon for them to be removed. However, documents and data in every shape and form shot up from slats within the desk. Their bony hands darted across all of it, sucking up every ounce in a matter of seconds with only their fingertips, before the data simply disappeared and the table was clear once again.

"Ahor, Blood Battalion Lieutenant."

"Formerly."

"That is not what our records say."

"Your records should be updated."

I couldn't shake the feeling that they were studying me, despite them not being able to see. Something about the way they leaned in just made me uneasy.

"Ahor, why are you here?"

"I want to remove the Blood Battalion from Nordic."

A rush of documents once again came across the desk. "The cost is too high."

"But we could free all of these people."

"Net losses would outweigh profits within days. Even with a minimal force and high levels of mineral output afterward, long-term occupation would be too expensive."

As much as I wanted to break into a speech about freeing Centrallis, I had heard enough stories about the leaders of the Concord to know that profits were the only thing they cared about.

"Well, then we'll make it cheaper or we'll ship even more minerals. I'll do whatever it takes."

"There is no profitable option."

"What if we see this as a long-term investment?"

"No."

"But there's no one else in the outer rim with the ground forces to take them on, at least now that Jabba is out of the picture."

"It is not our concern."

"Well, what if I took on the expense?"

Only a few papers shot by this time. "You have no holdings."

"I know, but I'll take responsibility for the debt. I'll pay you back."

"How?"

"... I don't know."

"Please leave, Ahor."

"But you have to help!"

They simply went back to sorting yet another row of documents that appeared before them.

"You said it would be profitable to kick them out, right? Didn't you?"

They continued to ignore me.

"I know you did, so what if I took care of the long-term occupation? I'll find my own people and my own weapons. We'll hold the city so that the smugglers and traders under you can continue shipping on Centrallis."

The three of them definitely perked up after that. The information they had been parsing was replaced by a brand new set, and the blind Ithorians quicky began crunching the numbers.

"Well?"

"It could be acceptable."

"Perfect."

"Where would you get a force large enough to keep the Blood Battalion at bay?"

"I have a few contacts I can reach out to, but if I have to I'll go house to house. The people don't want to live under the Huntress and those rich mine owners who abuse them. They want freedom. If I give them the chance, they'll join up."

"And if they don't?"

I stopped for a moment, pausing after the air got caught in my throat. "They will."


"Crates are selling at two thousand apiece," Mavis said.

"That's a lot of money."

"With only a few smugglers brave enough to fly past that thing, we're barely breaking even."

The area behind the medical bay had been turned into an impromptu planning room, where Ahor now spent most of his time. A holographic image of the planet was projected in the center of the room, with the tendrils of the mysterious space station still wrapped around it.

"Someone is going to undercut us. If Czerka gets their Limstaneum mine in the adjacent sector running, we'll go broke. Hell, even Kuat could-"

"Ahor!" a member of the Rabble called, as they sprinted into the room. "Ships are incoming from the Blood's main base."

The leader of the Rabble ran to his console and scanned for air traffic nearby. Indeed the Blood's base on Centrallis was launching dropships from the upturned Mon Calamari cruiser.

"Put everyone on high alert. You know what to do."

The soldier ran off, but Mavis stayed behind. "Do you think the Concord will send help?"

"I know they won't," Ahor admitted, "But I have faith. This is what we trained for."