The planet of Manpha was unimpressive in every respect. Though it sat on the Corellian Trade Spine it was the outermost edge. The primitive, amphibious natives had only reluctantly been dragged into the galactic economy, and the sparsest traffic moved in and out of the system. Seen from orbit was a drab sphere, mottled by swampy greens and browns.
It was for those very reasons that Darth Nihl had chosen it as the starting point of his campaign; that, and its proximity to Saijo, his birth-planet and the main colony world of his people, the Nagai. More than a century ago his race of pale-skinned, black-haired humanoid warriors had been chased from their native star cluster by another warlike people. The Nagai had seized Saijo, Manpha, and dozens of other worlds in their quest for living space, only to be beaten off most of them by the fledgling New Republic. Less than fifteen years ago, Nihl himself had led his renascent people to recapture their former glory.
That was to say, the man he'd been had led them. The Alliance and Imperials had crushed Relik K'sharn and his war fleet at Terminus, and the beaten warlord had survived only because the One Sith had plucked him from the wreckage of his ship and brought him to Korriban, where he'd begun his education in power greater than anything he'd imagined.
Though he no longer had the Force, Nihl still possessed the wisdom he'd gained in Darth Krayt's service. He had learned his lessons, and this time he would do it right.
When the Nagai fleet dropped out of hyperspace over Manpha, Nihl was standing at the fore of the bridge on his flagship Krish'nakt. It was not the largest ship in the fleet, but massed less than half of a standard Imperial star destroyer; instead it was a swift and deadly vessel, and Nihl felt confident on its deck as he watched the rest of the fleet swarm ahead toward Manpha. No two Nagai warships were identical, and he knew their cobbled-together, mis-matched appearance tended to confuse the enemy. Better still, it led them to underestimate the Nagai, something Nihl was counting on for his new campaign.
For today, however, shock and awe were the priorities. Manpha possessed a handful of orbital defense platforms, which the Nagai quickly targeted. Their ships were small and fast and maneuverable, and the turbolaser blasts they couldn't evade, they absorbed. Missiles arced from the attacking ships and quickly overwhelmed the stations' defenses. As Manpha swelled to fill the entire bridge viewport, Nihl saw explosions light up like a loose garland around its waist.
"Six stations destroyed, Lord," reported a voice behind him.
Nihl turned from the beautiful destruction to see Darth Vurik. With his bald dome laced with elaborate black and red Sith tattoos the Sakiyan stood out against a crew of monochrome Nagai. The surviving members of the One Sith were sparse and he'd spread them thinly in command positions throughout the fleet. Since the death of Lord Krayt, Nihl had been steadily building connections with those on Saijo who saw Relik K'sharn's defeat a decade ago as something to be avenged. When the Force had been suddenly stolen from them by Maladi's virus, Nihl had resolved to stand firm and continue his original plan. The Force's silence had, in fact, added urgency to his conquest.
"Has anything launched from the surface?" Nihl asked Vurik.
"Not yet, Lord. We don't believe they got any communications through our jamming field either."
"Excellent."
Nihl stalked away from the viewport to the tactical display holo, which showed the Nagai fleet scattering wide to form a blockade around Manpha. It was a very loose net, but Nagai ships were fast, and they'd be able to intercept any vessel that tried to run. As he and Vurik watched, the holo marked a handful of ships trying to do just that, but they were immediately intercepted by the closest Nagai. Some were destroyed and the rest fell back to the surface.
"They've been cowed quickly," Vurik muttered.
"The natives aren't warriors. They surrendered easily last time," Nihl said.
Remembering his last campaign with the Nagai brought mixed feelings. After gaining the wisdom of the Sith he couldn't help but see Relik K'sharn as fatally arrogant. His ambitions had far outstripped his powers and he'd gotten most of his navy destroyed because of it. Yet K'sharn's compulsion to conquer and dominate had passed strong to Nihl. After fifteen years he was wiser and stronger. Even without the Force, he believed that was true. Even if he could no longer command that universal power, he was still Sith.
Like the Jedi and Imperial Knights, they all had to believe it, or they were lost.
"Tell our forward units to begin launching landing teams, but hold them in the upper atmosphere," Nihl told the tactical officers. "Move Or'dath and T'kalth into lower orbit over their capital and prepare an orbital barrage."
His crew complied quickly. Some manning the new Nagai was fleet were veterans of K'sharn campaigns. Others were younger warriors who yearned to avenge past grievance. There were many on Saijo, too, who'd had their fill of conquest a decade ago and wanted the Nagai to stay on their homeworld in peace. Nihl and his allies had put much effort over the past three years into silencing them and whipping the people into a war-hungry fighting force.
Within ten minutes, the landing teams were holding in the atmosphere and Or'dath and T'kalth were ready to deliver their punishing blows. Nihl stalked over to the communications station and said, "Prepare a broadcast to the planet on all frequencies. Drop the local jamming field over Manpha."
It took the crew less than a minute to comply. When they were ready, Nihl bent close to the audio grille and said, "This is Relik K'sharn, warlord of the Nagai. This world was ours twice before. We have come to reclaim it. If you recognize our authority you will be welcomed into our new union of Outer Rim peoples. If you resist, we will rain punishment on your world that will make our past conquests look like child's games. You have one standard minute to surrender before we open fire. Please respond promptly."
He stood back and waited. Vurik appeared at his shoulder and said, "They're probably trying to call for help."
"Even if it gets through our jamming, the nearest Federation base is sectors away. They will fall."
The interesting part of this would be seeing what reaction Manpha's conquest got on Coruscant. He'd waited to launch his campaign until the Federations' senate was inaugurated. The brand-new body had been cobbled together from pieces of the Alliance, the Empire, and other smaller entities, and most of those represented wouldn't give a damn about a few Outer Rim worlds being conquered. Eventually Coruscant would have to take notice, but Nihl was relying on the fractured senate hampering a clear response.
A minute passed. "No reply, Lord," said the comm officer.
"Then tell Or'dath and T'kalth to open fire."
The young Nagai complied without hesitation. Nih glanced out the viewport, but Krish'nakt was too far away to spot anything more than tiny flashed on Manpha's surface. With each flare thousands were dying beneath the guns of a Sith-led army. Nihl felt a swell of the pride; it had been far too long.
After a few volleys Nihl said, "Tell them to hold fire. Wait two minutes for a response."
It took less than one. The comm officer reported, "Manpha's government is offering unconditional surrender. They're… requesting we be merciful."
Nihl's grinned. The Sith and Nagai- both his peoples- had spent too long cowering before other powers. It was time to reclaim some of their lost dominance.
"Tell them we will respect their wishes. Have Or'darth and T'kalth hold position and hold fire. Send the landing teams in."
"Yes, Lord," the officer said eagerly.
Nihl looked over to Vurik. The Sakiyan's face was a hard mask but his eyes were bright and eager. This planet was unremarkable and the victory small, but it had been a victory, and they'd been waiting too long for that. They deserved a moment to savor it.
Once the moment passed, they'd prepare for the war to come.
-{}-
When the landing ships reached Manpha's surface, they disgorged tens of thousands of armed Nagai troops. Many secured the local government and military headquarters. Many more were sent to parade through the capital's streets, silently and proudly proclaiming their dominance for a shocked and frightened populace that had never imaged they'd end this day under an occupying power.
Not a single Sith went down to join the occupying force. Darth Havok read many things into that. For a start, Lord Nihl wasn't ready to make public the Sith's role in this conquest. Truth would out eventually, but the revelation might unite the squabbling factions on Coruscant, and that was the opposite of what they wanted. It also spoke to the new status of the Sith; in Krayt's day they'd have proudly paraded their black-and-red bodies before a subject population. Now they were few, and worse, crippled by their deafness to the Force. They had to plan differently and command differently, acting from shadows, bringing down their enemies by subterfuge as had the Sith of old.
Darth Nihl was a former warlord, and subterfuge was not his specialty. Sending too many Sith to the Floating World to kill Darth Wredd had nearly brought down their order. Havok had argued against it, and in the wake of that disaster some Sith had spoken quietly about ousting Nihl. The curse of Maladi's disease had banished that talk. In that time of confusion Nihl had offered strength, certainty, and purpose as only conquest could bring. The Sith had fallen in line behind his plan, Havok included, but the Iktotchi had hoped the Dark Lord might add something subtle to his strategy.
Havok chose to take it as an encouraging sign that he'd been summoned to Nihl's flagship. After leaving the vessel he'd commanded at Manpha, his shuttle docked in Krish'nakt's hangar and a group of black-and-white Nagai escorted him to the Dark Lord's private command salon at the base of the bridge power.
Nihl was alone, pacing in front of a viewport that looked down on the newly-conquered world. The walls and tables of this room were adorned with a variety of artifacts that bespoke the occupant's character. Most were bladed and deadly weapons, and to Havok's eye they seemed equally split between Sith and Nagai origin. He wondered how carefully Nihl had curated that display, and whether he was sending a message to both groups.
Nihl turned from the viewport to face Havok. After losing touch with the Force, the Sith had also lost the red-gold irises that marked them a drawing from the Force's dark side. Havok disliked reminders of the man he'd been and was discomforted by the sight of his own brown eyes in the mirror. Nihl's had reverted to their natural blood-red, losing nothing of their old ferocity. Havok envied him for that.
Nihl clasped hands behind his thin waist. "You did well commanding today."
"Thank you, Lord" Havok dipped his horns for a small bow.
The Nagai took smooth steps forward. "You've always told me war is more than just blood and fire. You're correct, of course. That's why you'll be taking a different role from now on. As our war continues we'll have to pay close attention to Coruscant. Their reactions will dictate ours. We have agents in the capital, but I want you there to oversee them."
Havok nodded, quietly pleased. The Sith's agents were a mix of actual Lords, now deprived of their power, and hired spies. One spy had been inserted into the medical complex where, for almost a year, the galaxy's best scientist had labored fruitlessly to counteract Maladi's virus. Others had been inserted into military and senatorial staff, though none were as close to the empress or senior politicians as he'd liked. It was an operation in need of expansion.
"Do I have permission to recruit new agents?" he asked.
"Perhaps." Nihl regarded him. "We'll discuss any growth of operations beforehand, and we'll keep in close contact all the while."
"I understand," Havok said, faintly disappointed. He had no desire to usurp control from Nihl; before he'd been Sith he'd been an Imperial Knight, and even after learning way of the dark side he had no compunction with serving another's cause. Still, he'd wished to make the spynet on the capital his own.
"You will go to Coruscant," said Nihl, "But I need you to take care of several other things first. Most importantly, you will go to Mandalore."
Havok felt heavy weight settle inside him. The last time he'd been to the Mandalorian homeworld it had changed his life forever, tipping him from Eshkar Niin to Darth Havok. He's been sent by Roan Fel to discover the new Mandalore's allies. Thinking himself clever, Niin had walked into a Sith trap, but instead of killing him Nihl and the late Darth Vorkan had convinced him that the Sith were necessary to win the war against the Alliance. At the time, Niin had told himself he could use the Sith to preserve Fel's Empire, but in retrospect he saw that they'd snared him right there. From Mandalore everything had been a straight line: his double-agent work for the Sith, his guilt-ridden resignation from the Imperial Knights, his confrontation with the empress and finally the killing of Elliah- whom Eshkar Niin had loved- which had liberated him from his old self and allowed Darth Havok to be born.
Mandalore had begun his liberation. It was strange, then, that he revolted from going there.
Swallowing that down Havok said, "What do we need from Yaga Auchs?"
"Several things. We need his warriors, most of all."
"You want them to fight in our campaign? What about our other allies?"
"They'll help us too," Nihl nodded. "When the Mandalorians start fighting with us, Coruscant will sit up, take note, and maybe even take action. But all they'll expect are Nagai and Mandalorians. Then our new allies will overwhelm them."
Havok felt relieved. Nihl was the Dark Lord, and he'd been foolish to doubt his strategy. The Nagai went on, "Auchs also needs to be reminded who put him in power. Be charitable. Assume that, when his agents helped Maladi spread her virus, they didn't know what she was doing. But make clear that, even unwittingly, he's done the Sith great damage, and he must make recompense."
"Are you sure you don't want Auchs removed?"
"I've thought on that, but no. These Mandalorians are hard to control. Remove him and it might start a war, and there's no guarantee the new Mandalore will work with us. We need to keep Auchs where he belongs, under our heel." Nihl smiled, bearing sharp teeth. "After all, he killed the last Mand'alor. We have proof of that. Unless he wants his crime laid bare, he'll do as we ask."
Blackmail was a crude thing, but it usually worked. "I'll make that clear to Auchs. Should I set him to contact you directly?"
"Yes, but only once you make sure he understands the situation."
"Even with what he have on him, he'll want money."
"And he'll get some from our account on Muunilinst. But don't spend too freely, Havok."
The Iktotchi nodded; the Sith had amassed fantastic wealth during Krayt's reign, but the Federation had done an impressive job finding and seizing their liquid assets. They had money to spend, but not as much as they'd have liked.
"Am I to go to Coruscant after that?" he asked.
"Handle Mandalore for now," Nihl said. "I may have more for you later."
Havok nodded again. He knew the Dark Lord kept secrets, as he deserved to. His negotiations with their new allies had been almost entirely private. Still, Havok prized knowledge as much as power, and it was always disconcerting to know things were being kept from him.
Nihl saw that and gave another sharp-toothed smile. "Be patient. You're one of our most valuable assets. I won't waste your talents."
"Thank you." He bowed his head, then thought to ask, "Has there been any word from Lord Talon?"
Nihl's smile vanished. He made no secret of his disappointment with the Twi'lek after her failure to capture Maladi alive. He'd sent Talon and her human apprentice on the hunt for a supposed Force-using Yuuzhan Vong who might be able to show the rest of them how to open to the Force. It seemed to Havok the longest of long shots, but still an avenue worth investigating. For Talon, once Krayt's trusted Hand, the mission was an unmistakable fall from grace.
"Her last reports suggested a lead in the Ciutric system. I can't say whether it will get them anywhere, but they are investigating."
"I understand. And nothing of the Wyyrlok's daughter?"
Nihl shook his head. The traitor's child had disappeared after his death. She'd been naturally powerful but not fully trained, and in any case she'd be as deaf to the Force as the rest of them now. Most likely, Saarai was no threat, but after what Maladi had done they were uncomfortable with loose ends.
"You have more important things to concern yourself with," Nihl said, then tilted his head thoughtfully. "Before you go, I think we must do something about your appearance."
Havok tensed. "My tattoos."
"It will be hard for you to move around Coruscant unnoticed with them. For the duration of your field work, they'll have to be removed."
It was no surprise. Several other Sith had had their tattoos taken off before infiltration missions. It was a very painful experience, even moreso than having the tattoos marked, and this time he would not have the Force to lessen the agony.
Havok didn't savor the procedure, and worse would be seeing the brown, unmarked face of Eshkar Niin in the mirror. Having the eyes of the weaker man he'd been was bad enough. He was afraid that, without the constant sight of his scarlet face, he might lose the man he'd become.
That was hardly a doubt he could admit to Nihl. Standing straight, like the loyal servant both Havok and Niin had been, he said, "Of course, Dark Lord. It will be done."
-{}-
The planet Bakura looked warm and inviting as the Federation diplomatic shuttle fell toward its daylit side. Blue oceans, green continents, and white cloud-swirls suggested a fertile, living world, uncorrupted by pollution or overpopulation.
Shado Vao, strapped in the back of the cockpit for entry, knew these things were true, but Bakura still had plenty of problems, which was why he was here today. The planet was located far on the Outer Rim, near the edge of the Unknown Regions, which meant he'd had a long outbound flight to review the situation he was being sent to arbitrate.
Since being settled by humans in the days of the Old Republic, Bakura had become a regional industrial center where native minerals were mined and used to manufacture repulsorlift coils. Several times, the planet had been threated by the saurian Ssi-ruuk, a religiously fanatic race whose technology was fueled by the absorbed the life energy of sentient beings, gathered in a process called 'entechment.' Over a century ago, there had been a mass exodus of the P'w'eck, a second saurian species long used as enteched slaves by the Ssi-ruuk. The humans on Bakura had a long history of reticent toward aliens and the P'w'eck were alien indeed, but over time the two species had formed an awkward but effective symbiosis on Bakura. From what Shado had read, this was largely because the P'w'eck had brought with them methods that allowed the Bakurans to produce repulsorlift coils with a seventy percent increase in power efficiency, allowing the United Bakur Corporation to effectively corner the market.
Boosted by mutual economic gains, the awkward alliance between humans and P'w'eck had lasted for over a century. Now there was doubt it would last at all. As the shuttle plunged into Bakura's atmosphere, Shado glanced sideways at his partner on his mission, the Federation diplomat Geral Storr. The grey-haired human had a far more impressive resume than Shado when it came to mediating conflicts; he'd been an envoy for Roan Fel's empire for decades and had helped write the Treaty of Federation itself. Shado, by comparison, had spent most of his adult life running and hiding from Sith hunters.
He couldn't help but feel as though he'd been assigned this mission out of pity. Without the Force to guide them, the Jedi Council had withdrawn from the Federation triumvirate, but Empress Fel and Admiral Stazi had both insisted the Jedi would have a place within the government. Shado had told the Council he'd be willing to go wherever he was sent, just as when he'd had the Force. The Council's response had been to send him with Storr to Bakura, but as yet he wasn't sure if he was going as a fellow mediator, an attache, or a mere observer.
Once the shuttle pilot finished speaking with local flight control, he pivoted in his chair to look at Shado and Storr. "We've been cleared to land at Salis D'aar spaceport. You'll be escorted straight to the president's office."
"A good start," Storr nodded. "Take us in."
Shado strained in his crash webbing to watch as the shuttle lowered altitude and raced over green fields and sporadic mountain ridges of Bakura's northern continent. A city gleamed on the horizon ahead, and as they drew closer he could see it was a sprawling thing with clusters of skyscrapers and thick lines of speeder-traffic. Bakura was a long way from the Core, but this metropolis seemed as wealthy and modern as anywhere in the galaxy.
Storr was also leaning close for a better look. "Can you see the patches of P'w'eck settlements, Master Jedi?" he said. "Notice the thin spires, and the depleted areas around them."
Shado looked over the cityscape again and saw what the human was talking about. According to the source material he'd been given, the P'w'eck had built their homes on Bakura as they had on the Ssi-ruuvi homeworld: tall, narrow, and glassy spires clustered by the dozens. The style was distinct from the human-made skyscrapers, but more noticeable were the rings of unpaved land around each cluster. It seemed that, even in a city as populous and tight-packed as Salis D'aar, the P'w'eck areas were given careful berth.
The shuttle banked toward a district of lower but elegant building, widely-spaced on green lawns and connected by boulevards lined with statuary. There was something universal about government districts everywhere. As they circled close to a four-set of wide white landing pads, Shado's eyes were drawn to the one pad already occupied. The ship resting there was ovoid, taller than it was wide with an array of thrusters on one side and a set of three blisters on the opposite, giving it a vague resemblance to an insectoid face.
He said, "It looks like the Ssi-ruuk are already here."
"Quite," Storr said dryly. "Well. At least we won't have to wait long to get talks started."
Their shuttle folded wings and lowered itself onto the landing pad opposite the larger and more intimidating Ssi-ruuvi vessel. As they ran through post-flight cooldown, a small greeting party came onto the pad. All human, Shado noted, and mostly in the blue uniforms of the local defense forces.
Shado and Storr stepped down the landing ramp together, trailed by a handful of guards and aids. The leader of the greeting part snapped a salute and said, "Welcome to Bakura, Master Storr. I'm Lieutenant Envis. Please let me show you to the president's office."
"I'd be happy to speak with him," Storr nodded. "This is Master Shado Vao, of the Jedi Order. He'll be attached to me for the duration of the negotiations."
Envis' eyes flicked to Shado for only a second, then darted away. He'd gotten that fast, almost embarrassed glance a hundred times over the past year. It asked many things at once: whether he'd really lost his powers, what good he was without them, and what specifically he thought he could do here.
Shado only had a definite answer to the first one. Best he knew, no Jedi had found an answer to the second two. Before going on this mission Grand Master K'Kruhk had counseled him to continue seeking rightness as he'd when he'd touch the Force. Just because his guide had gone silent didn't make the search any less necessary. It was good advice, as far as it went, and Shado promised himself that he'd continue to look for the Jedi answer to whatever dilemmas he found on Bakura.
After making arrangements to have Shado and Storrs' belongings dropped off at their new accommodations, the two of them followed Envis and his bodyguards through the spaceport complex, into a speeder-cab, and across a stretch of the government district until they reached the wide, white-walled step pyramid which, Envis explained, housed the executive branch.
Shado had briefed himself on Bakura's government and understood it was an awkward assemblage, with one elected house for the human population and another for the P'w'eck, plus a smaller governing council elected by the Kurtzen, Bakura's native sentients. The planet's population currently stood at some seventy percent human, twenty-eight percent P'w'eck, and a mere two percent Kurtzen, but all three elected bodies were ostensibly given equal footing on the so-called Tripartite Council, where each body cast a single vote. As a result, many humans grumbled their votes counted for one-third on the Council when they had two-thirds of the population. The P'w'eck and Kurtzen, naturally, insisted they needed protection as minority parties.
The end result, based on what Shado had read, seemed to be a mess that produced more locked horns than legislation. Most of the actual governing nowadays came from the executive branch and the president chosen through direct election. Naturally, nobody but a human had ever held that seat.
Envis escorted them to one the highest levels of the executive pyramid, through several security checkpoints, all the way to the president's office. While the vast majority of the beings they passed were human, Shado saw a handful of Kurtzen, humanoids with pure-white skin and bald, wrinkled foreheads. He also saw several P'w'eck: two-meter-tall saurians with long thick tails, powerful lower legs, and brown scaly hides. They'd all worn blue sashes, apparently marking them as part of the defense force. Best Shado could tell, he was the only being in miles who was neither human, Kurtzen, nor P'w'eck.
No, he reminded himself. The Ssi-ruuk were here too, and without firing a shot they'd thrown Bakura's careful balance out of whack.
The president's office was a wide room with a low ceiling and one full wall made of transparisteel to let in the midday light. The man inside was on his feet, and as soon as the door closed behind Shado and Storr he took their hands, one after the other.
"Welcome, Master Storr, Master Jedi," the man said. He was older than Shado had expected, perhaps seventy standard years. He was shorter, too, and bald except for a fringe of gray, but President Ahnel Recado had light in his eyes and energy in his movement.
"Thank you very much for having us, Mister President," Storr said. "The Federation is glad you sought our help in arbitrating this case."
"At this point, Bakura needs any help she can get," Recado chuckled.
Shado was surprised by the open self-deprecation. "The situation's troubling," he said, "But you don't seem to have had any violence yet. Have you?"
"Violence? We've had a few small riots in Salis D'aar and other cities. A few killed."
"I'm very sorry to hear that."
"I'm trying to look on the bright side. We could have had much more dead. We had massive protests two days ago, when the Ssi-ruuvi delegation arrived. Plenty of violence. Some smashed windows, some burned-out speeders… but no deaths that time." Recado shrugged. "So I'm cautiously optimistic."
Shado hadn't expected a politician to be this blunt, nor this sanguine about his planet's crisis. "I understand people are angry, given Bakura's history with the Ssi-ruuk."
"Frankly, I think they're less angry with the Ssi-ruuk than with the P'w'eck."
"For not rejecting the Ssi-ruuk offer of unification out of hand?" asked Storr.
"Exactly." Recando crossed his arms and leaned against the edge of his desk. "You understand, relations between humans and P'w'eck have never been perfect. Naturally our people have collaborated professionally to create our repulsorlift coils. Cooperation has brought Bakura untold economic success. But actual friendship between individual humans and P'w'eck have always been rare. In the past few decades, it's basically become unheard of."
"I understand Bakurans have never been very accepting of non-humans," said Shado.
Storr immediately jumped at that. "What Master Vao means to say is that there must have been resistance to integration on both sides."
Recando smirked. "I'm fully away of what Master Vao means to say. And he's right. We welcomed the P'w'eck out of necessity and mutual advantage, but not with open arms. There is a severe gulf between our peoples- culturally, biologically, even gustatorily. You'll get a sample of that at the commencement banquet. It's an experience you won't forget, I promise."
"Will the Ssi-ruuk also be at this banquet?" asked Storr.
"Naturally. Delegate Ovipekkis is quite an interesting fellow. Three meters tall, scales as blue as the sea, and from what I can tell totally earnest in his insistence that the P'w'eck can now return to the Ssi-ruuvi Imperium as equal partners."
"I understand the Ssi-ruuk have tried that kind of subterfuge before," Shado said. "I'm surprised the P'w'eck are falling for it now."
"I think after a century away from home, the P'w'eck have started looking at their old masters with rose-colored eyelids," Recado said dryly. "Mostly, it speaks to the failure of our people to properly integrate them here."
Again Shado was impressed with his bluntness. "Are the Ssi-ruuk really offering to let the entire P'w'eck population immigrate?"
"They're willing to let whoever wants to return to Lhwekk return. This would be much less concerning, you understand, if the movement didn't have support from many of the P'w'eck leaders."
"If the P'w'eck leave, what happens to your repulsorlift factories?"
"That is the question, isn't it? Our industry combines human mining and manufacturing techniques with a special P'w'eck trade secret added in, and I do mean secret. If the P'w'eck leave and take their industry with them, the economic damage to Bakura will be incalculable."
"This assumes the Ssi-ruuvi offer is legitimate," said Storr.
"Yes. I was helping you could shed some light on that."
"Federation Intelligence has been looking into the Ssi-ruuvi Imperium. We have found some interesting developments, particularly within the past year." Storr tilted his head. "You did know, Mister President, that there has been some traffic between Bakura and Lhwekk for most of the past decade, yes?"
Recado nodded. "Yes, we know the P'w'eck were sending small embassies to the Ssi-ruuk. They always came back, and they always insisted they just conducting basic negotiations, to ensure good relations between our planets. People weren't thrilled, but they accepted it. There didn't seem to be anything more until recently."
Storr nodded. "Our intelligence is incomplete, but approximately six months ago, there seems to have been an upheaval on Lwhekk."
Recado straightened. "You mean a revolution?"
"A major shift in government." Storr paused meaningfully. "We have reports- I'd better call them rumors- that the entechment process that the Ssi-ruuk have relied on has… stopped working."
"You mean it failed? How?"
"The rumors don't specify."
Shado had his own idea, though Storr had warned him against voicing pure conjecture. As there had been direct contact between the Bakuran P'w'eck and Ssi-ruuk, it was possible to P'w'eck had passed on Darth Maladi's virus to the Ssi-ruuk, and from the Ssi-ruuk into whatever enslaved races they were using for entechment. Both saurian species were, by all accounts, blind to the Force and immune to most its effects, but they still existed in the Force and their bodies would have been effective carriers for the virus.
Jedi who'd encountered enteched life-forms- the legendary Luke Skywalker first among them- had reported feeling those energies trapped inside the mechanical vessels the Ssi-ruuk imprisoned them in. Shado supposed that Maladi's virus had affected the life-energy of those prisoners, damaging it so that it could not be passed whole into the Ssi-ruuk's droids and warships. In effect, the batteries with which the Ssi-ruuk had powered their evil empire had run dry.
That was his theory, but it was only that, and Storr was probably right that he should keep it to himself. It seemed no surprise to Shado that the Force's silence should have unpredicted ramifications, even for species who weren't consciously using it.
Recado took a deep breath as he considered Storr's revelation. "If you're right… I can understand why the Ssi-ruuk are panicked."
"Maybe we should take this as a good sign," offered Shado. "The Ssi-ruuvi Imperium has literally been fueled by the lives of subject peoples. That system's been torn down now. That means they have a chance to start again, to remake themselves. Their offer of alliance with the P'w'eck may be the first step in a new, better society on Lhwekk."
Recado regarded him thoughtfully. Storr said, "The Master Jedi is an optimist, even now."
"I try to be," Shado said, and didn't add how hard it was.
"Perhaps you're right," Recado said. "But even then, Lhwekk's gain could still be Bakura's loss. As president, I have to do everything I can to prevent that."
Storr said, "The Federation hopes we can reach a compromise that will benefit everyone- Bakuran, P'w'eck, even Ssi-ruuk, if their transformation is honest."
"That would be ideal. And if Lhwekk's gain is Bakura's loss… at least it might serve the balance."
It was strange sentiment from Bakura's president, but stranger still was the emphasis Recado placed on that last word. Shado's briefing materials noted that Bakura's original settlers had belonged to a faith called the Cosmic Balance, though he was unclear what that religion meant, philosophically or practically.
Recado stood straight. "Gentlemen, I'll let Lieutenant Envis escort you to your quarters. The rest of your team should be settled in now. This evening I'll let you pay visits to the leaders for the Ssi-ruuk and P'w'eck parties. Those are Ovipekkis and Vlothaw, respectively. We'll arrange for translators, of course."
"We have our own," Storr smiled politely. "We know your feelings about droids here, so we brought earpieces."
"I'm glad you respect our customs," Recado smiled back. "Master Storr. Master Jedi. I'll see you later."
There was more running through their conversation than diplomatic nicety. Shado could pick up a lot of it, but he knew he was missing so many undercurrent to both their feelings. Through the Force he'd been able to intuit people and uncover motives they'd hidden, even from themselves. With those skills, the Jedi had won rightful fame as conflict solvers.
Without them he didn't know how good he could be, but he had to try. As he followed Storr out of the office, Shado glanced at his mechanical left arm, which looked as authentic as his flesh-and-bone right one. After losing the limb at Ord Mantell in a futile attempt to capture Mandalorian captain Thorum Rhal, he'd considered leaving that arm cut off at the elbow, as his teacher Wolf Sazen had. He'd relented after a few months, when the reminder of his failure became too much. Maybe he was just weaker than Master Sazen; he liked to think he was taking Master K'Kruhk's advice to heart and continuing with his life the best he could. The one thing Shado knew for certain was that a limb could be replaced, but there was nothing to make up for the loss of the Force.