Chapter 9 – The Smuggler's Moon
The Vertical City, Little Coruscant, the Smuggler's Moon: Nar Shaddaa was all these things and more.
While some might only see the moon as a festering den of crime, desperation and sin, many others saw the moon as a home and a new start. To the Hutts, however, it was one of the most important commercial centres in their territory.
Nevertheless, the moon had a reputation for being a prison for refugees and those down on their luck, made worse by the cesspool of crime that afflicted it—it was only three hundred years ago that the moon was home to many thousands of refugees of the Mandalorian War and the Jedi Civil War. These days, however, the moon was little more than a reflection of the sad state of the galaxy. It was a poorly kept secret that both the Republic and the Empire vied for influence over the moon, and it was an even worse kept secret that this conflict lets criminal elements grow uncontended.
If Louise was to be honest with herself, she would say she was excited. Back on Alfheim, cities were small little things only a few kilometres in size, really—but in the wider galaxy? Kaas City was nearly the size of Kosqam (the continent it was built on), whereas Coruscant and Nar Shaddaa were massive cities that encompassed the entire planetoid it was built. The simple thought of a planet-wide city awed her and while she knew she would never be able to safely step foot on Coruscant, Nar Shaddaa was apparently the next best thing.
So, when the L'Inquisiteur de Vide slipped back into realspace somewhere in orbit above the large moon, Louise could not help but gape. While the sunlit side of the moon was a swirling mass of greens and brown, the dark side of the moon were unlike anything she had ever seen—Even from orbit she could see hazy red lights spreading out like a spider's web cutting through the smog-filled skies, creating outlines of what could only be hundreds if not thousands of districts below.
Despite Nar Shaddaa's reputation, Louise had to admit the dark side of the planet was quite beautiful to see.
"Little Sith," called Khem from his place at the pilot's seat, breaking the girl's attention away from the beautiful sight, "do you wish for me to contact their traffic control services?"
Nodding affirmative, Louise waited for Khem to put the call to go through. After a few seconds, the voice of what could only be a feminine-programmed AI spoke over the ship's intercom. "Hello and welcome to the glorious Nar Shaddaa. I am NATCI-13, programmed to aid you with any business you have on this wonderful moon. How may I be of service?"
"I am Louise of the Sith, apprentice of Darth Zash," Louise said seamlessly and politely, "and I am here on business—I have—er, I've got a reservation at the Mezenti Spaceport."
"Please wait one moment, contacting the Mezenti Spaceport now," NSATCI replied.
'One moment' must have meant something entirely different to the Hutts as the L'Inquisiteur spent the next twenty or so minutes. Even then it was not NSATCI who spoke over the intercom, but another.
"I am Cyla, overseer of the Mezenti Spaceport," said a voice, far too natural to be synthetic—yet, the gender and even accent it spoke she could not pinpoint. "Both I and the great Godoba the Hutt welcome you to Nar Shaddaa, Lord Sith."
"A pleasure," Louise replied tersely, the title of 'overseer' striking a nerve.
"If you will, your landing platform is 224-A," they said. "Coordinates are being transferred now. When you arrive, we will continue this conversation in person."
Louise raised an eyebrow at the final comment. Why would the Overseer want to meet with me? She thought, but before she could make her question known, the call terminated. Shrugging off the comment in favour of finding out later, she waited for the coordinates to arrive.
A few moments later, and with the help of Toovee and Khem, the L'Inquisiteur soon found itself flying along the skylanes above Nar Shadda, twisting and turning past towering spires, flying districts, apartments, casinos, warehouse and so much more. Unlike the view from orbit suggested, the city lights were vibrant, echoing all the beautiful colours of the rainbow in blaring neon. Sighs, logos, and even holographic videos lit up the sides of buildings, or simply floated in the sky—most were advertisements, but others were akin to news channels.
Soon, however, the ship arrived at the Mezenti Spaceport, landing at what could only be platform 224-A. The spaceport itself was like a spire with many rectangular openings twisting around it like the chambers of a beehive, waiting for ships to take roost inside. Her platform was near three quarters up the spire, two flashing red beacons guiding her way. The platform itself was little more than a wide stretch of duracrete built that could fit a ship twice as large as her own on it—through the various crates and tanks of what could only be fuel that corralled around the edges, constricted the size of the platform.
Without much fuss, the sip glided over the landing platform before settling down steadily onto the ground. From where they sat in the cockpit, they could see that the platform was almost completely empty, aside from a group of people near what looked to be the exit.
Roughly ten or so minutes later, the landing ramp extended, hissing as the ship's atmosphere equalised with that of Nar Shaddaa. From the bowels of the Fury, Louise, Khem and Nihl walked—or rolled, in the latter's case—down the ramp and onto the pale duracrete floor of the platform.
However, the moment Louise's foot touched down onto the platform, she could not help but hesitate as a chill crawled up her spine. Her eyes darted around, first to the group in the corner, then elsewhere. She could see that Khem felt it too—this strange… miasma that seemed to perforate the atmosphere around her and deep into the moon's core. Like a word on the tip of her tongue, she left as if she should know what it was but could not quite describe it. It was different, that was all she could say—far different than Korriban, Dromund Kaas and Dxun.
The Force was alive here but unlike she had ever experienced. It was erratic, like a beating heart after running a marathon, but tense as if each beat was a struggle to perform.
"You feel that, little Sith?" Khem asked in a hushed grumble.
Louise nodded, despite her uncertainty. "What is it?"
"The planet stripped bare of all this crude matter," he said. "Desperation… I can taste it—greed, anger, pain. This planet is utterly drenched in these emotions."
Louise's eyes widened a fraction. She knew why this was all so familiar—the desperation, the anger—especially the pain—it all reminded her of Elu. Her hands balled into tight fists, and she did not doubt that if she were not wearing gloves, her nails would be biting into her flesh painfully. Yet, she betrayed no emotion on her face, seemingly eerily calm in the wake of this realisation.
Taking a deep breath, Louise began to walk towards the waiting group, wanting to get rid of these feelings inside and the horrid thoughts that followed. Behind her, Khem and Nihl followed along silently, though she could tell both were staring at her back.
Part of her already regretted taking Nihl along with her, but there was really no other option. While it might have been safer to keep someone with any semblance of combat experience on the ship, nobody trusted the three-hundred-year-old droid at all. So, it was decided that it would be better to take it along. Not only that, but the fact that the droid could splice computer systems was something she could not miss out on.
Louise, herself, also knew that it was better to be prepared for anything on this new world where crime was rampant. Armed not only with her lightsaber and her dagger but also her blaster and rifle, she hoped the armaments strapped to her, as well as her robes, would deter anyone looking for trouble. Fortunately, Khem did not need much to be intimidating.
Together, the three eventually arrived at the group of eight; five men with three other droids standing by at the ready. Four of the five were heavily armed and armoured with near identical stern glares plastered on their faces. It was also a diverse group, two Trandoshans, a Wookiee, and a human-like alien with clammy skin and large eyes. The fifth being was a pastel pink Twi'lek, tall and lean with tattoos adorning his lekku. It was male if the human-like ears were anything to go by, but his soft and girlish features were trying to convince her otherwise. He was obviously the leader, dressed in what could best be described as a… cute amalgamation of a dress and robes, coloured with a gradient of blues to a deep dark purple.
As for the droids, from what she could see of their builds, they looked to be simple worker droids. If Louise were to guess, they would tend to her ship while she was away.
Approaching the group, the trio was met with a sweet smile from the Twi'lek and subtle scepticism from his bodyguards.
"Welcome, Lord Sith, to the Mezenti Spaceport. I hope our services will be adequate for one such as yourself," the Twi'lek said with a bow, his voice the same androgynous voice as the one who spoke to her over the intercom.
"Cyla, I presume?" Louise asked with a slight incline of the head.
"In the flesh," he said, making a sweeping gesture to his body. "But before we can continue, I would ask if you could supply your visa or passport?" He held out a hand in askance. Behind him, his guards shifted, anxiety seeping from the four through the Force.
Louise nodded mutely and pulled her datapad free from her belt. It took a minute or so, but soon she had her passport identification up on screen for Cyla to look at. Passing it to the Twi'lek, he checked the information provided, even scanning it with some kind of scanner that looked like some kind of hodgepodge of scrap and tech soldered together. The device beeped and a small light atop it flashed yellow then green.
Cyla smiled at the results, stowing away the device back onto his belt while handing Louise her datapad. Quickly, Louise made a mental note to get a physical copy of her passport and ID, it certainly it would make it easier.
"Everything checks out," Cyla said. "While you are away on business, my droids will make sure your ship's in working order and fuelled up, as per our arrangement with Darth Zash."
Louise's eyes briefly flickered back to the droids. Paranoia was certainly something running through her head, terrified that someone might steal it or, worse, blows it up—but from what she remembered, Godoba the Hutt was an ally of the Empire. Though this did little to soften her fears. Nevertheless, she understood that she could not keep guard of her ship while also trying to hunt down the elusive Paladius. She just hoped the droids could be trusted.
"Is there anything you will need during your stay here?" Cyla asked, pulling Louise's attention back to the Twi'lek himself. "Perhaps you would like to unwind after your business here. The Vertica Casino is a—"
Louise shook her head, forestalling the Twi'lek's pitch. "No thank you, however, would not mind directions towards the Promenade."
Cyla smiled once again, looking oddly cute. "Most commercial speeders are programmed with maps to many important locations around the planet. If you desire, we can rent a skycar for you."
"Do you have any models with autopilot?" Louise asked, the fact she had no idea how to drive once again slapping her in the face. She would have to remedy that. Khem might be able to drive, but the thought of him behind the wheel of a cramped speeder was both comedic and terrifying—especially as she would be in the passenger seat.
"Of course, Lord Sith," he answered. "I will contact the transit station and order you a speeder in advance. Just tell them that Overseer Cyla sent you and you should be on your way."
Louise twitched. "Thank you, Overseer."
"Just take the elevator down to level three and you should find yourself at the Mezenti Crossroads," Cyla said, gesturing to the noticeable elevator behind him. "The transit station is nearby along with some storefronts, apartments, clubs and casinos you should visit if your business isn't too pressing."
"I will keep that in mind," Louise said, and with that, the two groups split.
Louise, Khem and Nihl left towards the elevator, activating the console to summon it up. Meanwhile, the others went about their business—the droid's approaching her ship while Cyla and his guards leaving towards a nearby door to somewhere.
After a few moments, the elevator door dinged open allowing the three to enter.
Down, down, down the elevator went. Pleasant, if simplistic, ambience played over the speakers as the elevator went down. She was not sure how long it actually took to reach level three, but from what the handy control panel said, there were many levels between ship and level three. If she were to guess, it was maybe ten to fifteen minutes before the elevator arrived at their destination.
The door dinged open and the three exited.
Nar Shaddaa, much like the rest of the places she visited, was… odd. It actually reminded her of Kaas City, if one replaced the clouds above with smog and removed all the class. It had its own charm, to be sure, and the many neon advertisements and messages were beautiful to see, yet still, the comparison remained. Nevertheless, that did not excuse the underlying of atmosphere that seeped into the moon's very core. She could feel it stronger now, the flurry of emotions, dark, twisted and… oily?
The Mezenti Crossroads themselves were built much like a wide road that seemed to curve around like a massive ring around the base of the spire—at least she assumed from what she could see. The elevator, along with several other doors, storefronts and backroad-like halls built into the innermost ring with more places on the outside.
Most of the Crossroads was made of durasteel of many colours from reds, greys, browns, blues and more. Divots gouged along the centre of the road like stripes where trees and other plants grew, giving some semblance of life to the area. Then there were the beings walking around, minding their own business. Some, she could see, were Imperials—which made sense, considering—and others were not; aliens of many shapes and sizes, familiar and completely… well, alien to the Pinkette.
Spotting a large sign over a wide archway proclaiming to everyone around that the transit station was there, Louise quickly picked up the pace with her followers tailing closely behind.
However, before she could cross the distance to the transit station, she found herself almost tripping over an astromech droid.
"Gah! What in Chaos?" she cried, stumbling away from the obstruction in her way.
It looked far different than Nihl, understandably. Its body was cylindrical, and its head was cone-like with a large black photoreceptor sticking out of its head. Louise frowned and was ready to simply step around until she noticed one of her companions and what they were doing. It was not Khem who simply stared at the droid curiously, but Nihl who had a strange thing poking out of his chassis—it looked a bit like a small arm holding what looked to be a…
Louise raised an eyebrow. Was she seeing this right? She looked back to the other astromech, wanting to ignore the fact Nihl was apparently armed with a blaster pistol, only to be stunned at the sight of the other astromech also holding a blaster—though it looked more like a part of its body rather than an actual blaster.
Are… are the droids in the middle of a stand-off? Louise thought. The two were silent, their blasters pointed at each other, unmoving.
"What are you two doing?" Louise demanded.
It was the cone-headed astromech who replied first. «Registration – CN-94 / Purpose = Imperial asset identification + coordination»
Louise mentally recoiled and quickly turned to Nihl. "Put that away, now!"
Nihl turned to her, then back to CN-94, then back to her. Beeping sadly, its small arm folded away, holstering its blaster into its chassis. «Nihl = watching CN-94 / CN-94 + sudden movements = termination protocol»
"You will do no such thing," Louise said, pinning the delusional droid with a glare. Heaving a sigh, she turned back to CN-94. "Are you really an Imperial droid?"
«Glory = Empire» it said before its photoreceptor began to glow blue. «Sith = hold still / Imperial asset identification protocol = initiating»
Of course, we have astromech droids with built-in blasters… Louise though, tensing slightly as a bright blue beam of light shot from its photoreceptor, scanning Louise up and down once, twice, and three times before vanishing.
«Identity scan = complete / Possessing + uploading» For a few seconds, it sat quietly, before its head twisted to the side and its photoreceptor glowed blue once again. «Holographic link = open»
Just like before, a wide beam of light shot from its eye. But instead of scanning, the beam condensed into a full-body hologram. The hologram was of a short-haired woman, looking in her mid to late twenties. It was an Imperial, that was for sure, donned in the fatigues of an Imperial Operative she had seen around the outpost near the Dark Temple weeks back. However, aside from that, the woman was just another Imperial to Louise.
"Forgive the unorthodox introduction," the Imperial said, "Maro Vizhen, head of Special Operations for the Imperial Diplomatic Services. I'm in need of your assistance."
"What could the Diplomatic Services need of me?" Louise asked, baffled by the simple thought. "I'm an apprentice, is there no one more qualified to deal with this?"
"There are elements on this planet that threaten the Empire's standing on this Force-forsaken world," she said bitterly. "While there are other Sith on Nar Shaddaa, they have been far too busy to aid me. But for you, it would be trivial for someone with your reputation, my lord."
Reputation? Louise thought, raising an eyebrow. What in the name of the Emperor have I done to get a reputation? It was honestly an uncomfortable concept, her reputation. Her previous one led to a year and a half of mockery and pain, and now it seems she's already built another.
Louise shook her head, she still had to deal with the operative before her. While she felt slightly flattered if unnerved, by the praise she was given, she had no idea if she should accept the assignment—A threat to the Empire's standing on Nar Shaddaa was something that should be dealt with. The only issue was that she still needed to deal with Paladius. Paladius was the priority, yet… it was conflicting.
Taking a deep breath, she answered the hologram. "I have pressing matters to deal with at the Promenade, however, once I'm done there I may be able to help."
"Thank you, my lord," Maro answered, sounding like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "We can discuss this at the Imperial Outpost in the Corellian sector. I'll send you the coordinates. However, before I leave, I must warn you—the Empire is not looked upon kindly by elements on Nar Shaddaa. There have been many reports of our men being attacked by civilians or so-called 'renegade' Republic personnel while on leave. I would highly recommend you travel the planet in disguise, my lord."
"I will take that into consideration, " Louise said, briefly cursing the fact she was no information before she left her ship. And so, after stating their farewell's, the hologram died and CN-94 left allowing the three to contemplate the information. For Louise, it was simply this: leave and get changed out of her robes or not to leave and continue her mission? Khem… nobody really knew what he was thinking, quiet and observant. Despite the giant's appearance, he was insidious and terrifyingly intelligent.
Then there was Nihl. «Nihl = disappointed» it beeped. «Imperial presence + public opinion = underwhelming / Sith Triumvirate True Sith»
Louise twisted on an ecu, glaring down at the ancient astromech. "Excuse you?"
«Nihl = simply observing» it replied, rolling back defensively.
Huffing, Louise crossed her arms. "Keep your observations to yourself. I don't even remember reading anything about the Triumvirate having any dominion over this moon." Not that she was particularly interested in the Triumvirate and the territories it owned. All she knew about Nar Shaddaa from that era was the refugees, something about an exchange and the fact that it was an important point of interest in the Jedi Exiles war against the Triumvirate.
Nihl simply beeped in reply, sounding like the droid's attempt at a verbal shrug.
Louise shook her head. She had more important things to deal with rather than the opinion of a droid. Making up her mind, Louise turned around and headed back to the elevator. This moon was annoying and the thought of dealing with attacks in the streets made this fact worse.
…
The Promenade was an interesting district, to say the least.
Known for its extravagance and commerce. It was also one of the safest and most 'legitimate' business on the moon, perhaps even in the system. Security was tight, keeping the variety of casinos, boutiques and the rest of the Promenade safe from the degenerates that festered in other districts. It was easy to get lost in the district, the flashy neon lights, the grand pieces of art—one of which included a massive golden statue of Karagga the Unyielding—and the beautiful storefronts showcasing glamourous wears, tempting and tantalising to passersby.
Fortunately, Louise developed a strong will against such luxuries. She could never be distracted by the fancy food or the fancier dresses and jewellery and the rest of the Promenade had to offer. No, certainly not. It was impossible. Which is why Khem Val was positively not carrying a bag filled with a few boxes containing a gorgeous black strapless dress, some glossy heels and silk-like gloves that reached to Louise's elbows. It was also why Louise was totally not sipping from a small cup of hot tea on the way to the hidden base of operation where the rebel cultists were hiding.
Louise froze mid-step, the full realisation of what her life had become hitting her like a ton of bricks. Drinking tea on the way to plot with rebel cultists to overthrow their former messiah…
"What is wrong, little Sith?" asked Khem, eyeing Louise with barely hidden exasperation.
"No, nothing, I'm just thinking," she replied. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "Let's just get going…"
The hidden base was an old storefront near the edge of the district's territory. It was abandoned, that much she knew just by looking at it, but whys were a mystery to her—not that she cared. Graffiti painted the dirtied walls in paint all the colours of the rainbow: archaic words of unknown dialects; proclamations of intercourse or of friendship; crass words, phrases and many other works of "art'. The large windows were barred by metal plates spot-welded into place. Fortunately, and understandably, the door was fine—aside from more graffiti, some of which were phallic. Whether it was anatomically correct, Louise did not want to know.
Walking up to the front door, she activated the control panel to open the front door… but nothing happened aside from an alarming buzz. Louise was about to try it again but beeping from her side stole her attention.
«Door = locked» Nihl said simply.
Looking back at the door, Louise scratched her chin. She had a lightsaber by her side and she knew that it would not be so difficult to simply remove the door either with her saber or by ripping the door from its hinges. She shook her head—no, there was another way this could be done. She had spent another twenty or so minutes getting changed out of her robes and into her casual clothes, she was not going to give away her allegiances to the masses just because a door stood in her way.
Turning to the droid, she asked, "Can you unlock it?"
Nihl looked to the door for a moment, then beeped affirmative.
It took a few moments more than she was sure it would take had she torn open a window, but soon enough Nihl pulled out its probe from the control panel and the door hissed open.
Inside was little different from the outside. Graffiti, much like the outside, painted the walls, but aside from that, there were no signs of life. Only a countertop and a few piles of miscellaneous trash scattered around the room were of any note—barrels, crates, plastics and papers just piled together.
The brief thought that she might be in the wrong place made itself known, but she ignored it. She could see a back door behind the counter and so they were probably in the backroom—maybe. Stretching her senses out, she could feel others in the next room over: Five—no, six? Seven, yes, there were seven of them.
Seven… that was new. She only knew of Rylee and Destris as the only two rebels, but seven? No, she did not like the idea of that. Several thoughts and theories nipped in her mind and most were horrible.
Pulling her saber from her belt, Louise gestured to Khem and Nihl to be quiet and follow. The backdoor was a manual with a bar door handle, push, no sliding at all—it was odd. Opening it, she moved as silently as she could into the backroom only to stop as the sounds of people speaking met her ears—an argument, perhaps. Walking further into the backroom, she found herself staring at a peculiar but familiar sight.
The backroom was obviously used as a storage facility, converted into a hideout with two beds, a holoprojector and a few crates marked as previsions. However, it was not the room that was peculiar but the stand-off she was currently witnessing between two distinct groups. The first was made of five men and women of different species dressed in humble sandy clothes—shirts and pants—armed with vibroswords and blasters. The second was little more than two, a man and a woman, yet only the man was armed, and it was only with a blaster pistol.
Deciding to defuse the situation, Louise slowly approached the seven, lightsaber held tightly in hand.
"Hello?" she called, drawing the sevens attention. Unfortunately, along with their attention came the six different weapons all aimed at her. "Um… do any of you know a Rylee or a Destris? I have business with them."
The reactions were just as immediate as before. First, it was a mutual confusion, if only for a second, then the group of two collectively relaxed as the one with the blaster turned his blaster back onto the group of five. As for the group of five, they tensed, snarling at Louise.
"You—you're with these heretics?" asked the assumed human leader of the group who was currently pointing a sawed-off scatter gun right at her chest—That would be a problem to deal with. Louise thought.
"I'm going to assume you're working for Paladius?" she asked pointedly.
"Do not speak our Father's name with your foul tongue!" growled another of the five, a pale blue Twi'lek wielding a vibrosword that looked more like a claymore than anything else. "You work with these traitorous schutta? You're just as much of a heretic as they are!"
"We do not need to fight," Louise said, placatingly. "You would only be wasting your lives."
But the five were not swayed by her words, and with a cry of, "Then you will die a heretic's death!" a blaster was discharged, the bolt flying at high speeds directly at Louise's head. But before it could make contact, an amber blade of plasma intercepted with a snap-hiss.
Without much effort, the bolt hit the blade and was immediately sent ricocheting off, scorching a wall.
"She's a Jedi!" one of the cultists cried, backing away slightly from Louise.
"I'm not a Jedi!" Louise growled but stopped from taking further action. Taking a calming breath, she continued. "Don't force my hand, just surrender now."
Their answer was disappointing, to say the least. Almost immediately, Louise's senses screamed at her. Move! And move she did, leaping to the side as the scatter gun unloaded its payload with a loud bang as a spray of metal pellets cut through the air where she just was.
The moment her feet touched the ground, it was like she was viewing the world in slow motion. The group of two split up with the woman diving for cover while the armed man fired his blaster directly into the head of the leader of the five cultists. The next moment, he fell to the floor, dodging what would have been a fatal barrage of plasma from another cultist, a female this time, armed with a rifle.
Yet, she found her life cut short by a charging Khem who cleaved her and another cultist in half with his massive sword, only for Khem to turn to the defensive as plasma was sent his way. Only two cultists remained, and it had only been a few seconds.
Louise moved quickly, tightening her grip on her lightsaber as she charged at one of the two remaining as the other fell to the floor, electrocuted to death by Nihl's hand. Summoning the Force, she pulled the cultist towards herself, stopping the girl from firing on Nihl, and cut her life short with a quick slice, removing her head from her shoulders.
It only took a few seconds, but all five of the cultists were dead. It was less a fight than a slaughter. Louise did not know how to feel about that—they were cultists, brainwashed by a renegade Sith Lord with delusions of grandeur. They were basically slaves and they were slaughtered. Disgust filled Louise and shame.
"Well, what do we have here," the man who Louise assumed was Destris said, pulling the woman who was probably Rylee up from the ground. "The cavalry? Appreciate the help, but I had it under control."
Destris was of average height, but he was thin giving him a lanky appearance. With a dark brown fohawk atop his head and his striking green eyes, he could be considered attractive, and with that large X shaped scar that cut across his face, Louise was sure he could hold his own—but he was wrong.
"Show some respect, weakling—" Khem snarled, his bloodied cleaver of a sword bared threateningly, but before he could do any more than that, Louise stopped him with a raised hand.
"Khem, I doubt he can understand Sith or even Dashadi," she said to the giant before turning back to Destris. "Anyway, you did not have this under control—there were five of them and only one of you had a weapon. If I hadn't been here, you'd be dead." And it was true. There was not compare to two trained Force-Sensitives against five cultists.
"Destris, she's right," said who Louise was now certain was Rylee. She was shorter than her compatriot, about a head and a half smaller, with an olive complexion and a bob cut that so many in this galaxy were fond of. Also, unlike her compatriot, she did not have any scars to show. "Thank you, my lord, for helping us."
"Don't be dropping 'my lord,' Dray. Not yet, at least," Destris said before turning back to Louise. "So, there was a lady a while back. She said she'd send someone to help out—you it?"
"I would assume my introduction would have cleared up any confusion," Louise replied, crossing her arms. "Yes, Darth Zash has sent me to help take out Paladius."
"Introduction?" Destris tisked. "I don't even know your name."
"Louise."
"Louise? Exotic," he said, looking her up and down, only to be slapped in the chest by Rylee, soliciting a chuckle from the man. "Anyway, it's a good thing you're here," he continued, moving over to sit down on a nearby crate. "It makes me sick to think that Paladius is out there while I'm cooped up here, sitting on my shebs in this rat hole."
"So, what's the plan?" Louise asked. "And what can you tell me about Paladius."
"Well," Rylee said. "we don't actually know much about Paladius, my lord. All we know is that he showed up a while ago and wiped out one of the big gangs in the poorer districts and made himself out as some big protective father figure—pretending to care about us as if we were his children." Her face twisted into a sneer—bitter hatred, anger and a strong sense of shame seeping from the woman's core.
"Then he started building his damned empire off the backs of the adoring downtrodden," he said, his emotions echoing that of his friend, though hatred and anger were more prevalent than anything else. "Said he'd save them from their miserable lives just as he saved them from the Hün'ding's. Said we'd make a—what was it? A 'mighty sword' and strike against our enemies." He snorted. "It was all lies."
"So, he took out a gang and you all flocked to him just like that?" Louise asked.
"You obviously haven't lived a hard day in your life," Destris grumbled, completely missing the absolute murderous glare sent his way. "Yeah, Nar Shaddaa looks like some glitzy moon with a booming economy, but people on this planet are desperate. Hell, the only reasons we're on the Promenade is because if we tried finding somewhere else, we might get shanked or shot and left to die in some ditch."
Rylee coughed pointedly, knocking Destris on the shoulder to grab his attention, all the while sparing apologetic glances at Louise. "What Destris is trying to say is that we were desperate. If someone like Paladius comes in and makes our lives just a bit better, people will flock like a mynock to carrion. It doesn't help that he was wealthy enough to uplift his followers from poverty. With the reputation of single handily taking out the Hün'ding's and his credits, it was easy."
"That, and any other gang that threatened him are soon found destroyed soon after," Destris continued. "Fortunately—at least for us—Nar Shaddaa is filled with lowlifes who get off to murder, slavery, rape and drugs. If you took out—let's say—the Krayts, you could win the support of the poor—knock out Paladius' legs out from under him."
"Wait…" Louise said, suddenly stopping the discussion short, "you want me to take over Paladius' cult?" she asked. "You want me to take over Paladius' cult?"
"Well, yes," Rylee said.
"Your master said that we'd have the cult in exchange for the stone—or whatever it is," Destris said. "We were thinking that you'd lead, and we'd be your second in commands. I'm not too proud to admit that we wouldn't be able to take down Paladius without help."
Louise frowned. The idea of owning a cult, especially one that acted like brainwashed fanatical slaves, was vile, sickening even. These were people, people trying to live better lives. They did not deserve to be treated like droids, performing to the whims of whoever owned their favour. In fact, if she did not need the artefact, she would have left—no, no! She could not abandon these people. Leaving them under Paladius' thumb would be far worse than anything she could do, surely. But, to take over? Make these people hers?
Louise supposed she could just disband the cult when she stole it from Paladius, but… no, that would not work. Disbanding the cult would not only break any deal between her master and the two rebels but what was worse is it would also be akin to throwing them to the wolves—hungry wolves who would abuse these poor downtrodden folk for their own gain. They'd be swooped up by some would-be messiah looking for mindless slaves begging for scraps, maybe they'd join gangs and perpetuate the violence and criminal elements in the galaxy. Worse still, they could be murdered, raped or sold into slavery.
No… she could not allow that to happen. If she had the power to help these people, she should do it. Mother always told her it was her job to protect the commoners of the world, and, well, these people were just like commoners. It was her duty, her job to lead the weak not only as one of noble birth but also as a Sith. Louise just hoped she was strong enough, worthy enough to do so.
Turning back to the two Rebels, Louise sighed, "So… who are the Krayts?"
"They're a big-time gang based out in the Corellia district," Destris continued. "Their one of the most vicious gangs in this sector. Named themselves after the krayt dragons of Tatooine—their leader, Saben, even thinks he's descended from one."
"So—what? Follow in Paladius' footstep?" Louise asked. "I certainly wouldn't mind wiping the Krayt's from the face of the galaxy, but…?"
Rylee smiled and stepped up to speak. "You're right, this is why I was plotting plan besh. Gangs aren't the only problem that infests Nar Shaddaa—plagues fester in the poorest districts without anyone even batting an eye. The issue is, many of these plagues already have cures available, it's just that the companies that own the cures won't do anything unless you can pay up. For this sector, it's the Rot."
"Ugh… the Rot—nasty business," Destris said, obvious disgust showing on his face. "It's a plague that, well, rots the skin all the way to the bone. Highly contagious with a high mortality rate. Tydis Neutronics is the sole proprietor. Those bastards' horde that cure like it shit's wishes."
"If you want to be cured or a friend, you have to go to one of their branches to have it administered. What's worse is that they won't cure anyone past the first stage leaving everyone else to rot both literally and figuratively," Rylee continued. "Fortunately, I know of a warehouse where we can steal the cure. The only issue is distribution. We can't just get crates and hand them out; not only would Tydis try and shut it down, but there's also the issue of curing on a mass scale. We'd run out of the cure eventually and that might lead to our plan backfiring completely. If we can get past that, you'll have followers just waiting to praise your name."
Louise tapped her chin, humming in thought. With the plans available, she could possibly create something that would leave her out on top. All she would need to do is check in with some people first, and then… well, and then she could turn Paladius' cult on its head.
"So, what should we do, my lord?" Rylee asked.
"I think I might have an idea," Louise answered with a mischievous grin.
…
…
…
"Well, what is it, Pinkie?" Destris asked.
Ignoring the nickname, Louise turned to her Dashade friend. "Khem, do you remember the Battles of Yn and Chabosh?"
"Fondly," He replied simply.
"How would you like to relieve those glory days, if on a smaller scale?"
Khem scratched his chin. "Did you not say you did not wish to follow in the footsteps of Paladius?"
"I'm not," she said. "Why only play the part of the protector when I could also be the healer as well?"