Chapter 14.

CHALMUN'S CANTINA, MOS EISLEY

TATTOOINE (17 BBY)

"Mirl? Mirl Yinn?!" came the astounded exclamation.

The expatriate Myke turned around and saw a familiar Sakiyan face.

"Dergib?! Long time/no see."

"Yes. Since before the start of the Clone Wars. Whatever are you doing here?"

The bounty hunter once known as 'The Dark Archer' smirked in bemusement.

"You might say I'm a victim of political circumstance. I was on my way back here, from Muunilinst, after accepting a new bounty contract from the Banking Clan. But, while refueling on Naboo, martial law was declared, galaxy-wide, as a result of the Battle of Geonosis. That, in turn, led to the pro-Republic government establishing a protective blockade around the whole system, virtually marooning me there! The only way I could finally get off-world was to make a deal with an Amaran animal trader. If I helped him capture a Force-sensitive woolly veermok, to pit against Jabba the Hutt's pet rancor, he'd smuggle me to Tattooine as well."

Dergib could not resist grinning.

"Don't tell me; let me guess. It was easier said than done, holding up your end of the bargain. So that, by the time you got here, your quarry was long-gone!"

Mirl Yinn nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. And, what's worse? That double-crossing Amaran used the credits he'd promised to pay me, as a bonus, to bet on the fight. Which the veermok (despite its rudimentary Force talent) miserably lost! The Amaran, of course, subsequently absconded off-world without telling me... and I've been reduced to working as a womp-rat catcher for the spaceport's custodial service. Then, again? With the Banking Clan still in disarray, as a result of the Mustafar Massacre, at least I don't have anyone hunting bounty on _me_ for being a contractual reneger. Or... do I?"

He squinted meaningfully at Dergib. Prompting the Sakiyan to laugh.

"Take it easy, old friend. I'm not after your hide! That is; not unless you're interested in more gainful employment as a sort of 'bill collector' for the Tisshar League!"

The Myke's eyebrows arched upward. "Do tell."

NAR SHADDA (TWO DAYS EARLIER)

"Your friend Dergib tried to assassinate Emperor Palpatine with the help of some female Ragithian Human who's apparently a mutant. She called herself 'Darth Giganta'. He called himself 'Darth Sinestro.' And the both of them referred to something called the 'Legion of Doom'. They arrived on Coruscant aboard the same XTS space liner as those fake Anomids. And it came by way of here! So, I need your help interrogating the Toydarian and his partner."

Mirl Yinn bowed in sincere deference. "Anything for Ra's-Al-Ghul."

TISSHAR CONSULATE,

PLANET CHURBA (10 BBY)

It was the consul's Anzat bodyguard who made the introductions.

"Announcing Lord Vader; personal emissary of His Excellency, Emperor Palpatine. Milord? This is my master: Tisshar Consul, Ra's-Al-Ghul."

Darth Vader entered the inner office of the consulate. But, no sooner had he laid eyes on the Trandoshan behind the desk than his lightsaber was in his hands. Its blade of red energy springing to life, with the flick of a switch, in less time than it takes to tell! And, naturally, his storm trooper bodyguards were only slightly slower in aiming their blaster carbines at the consul who was roughly simultaneous in aiming a brace of blaster pistols at them.

"The Anzat is lying. I can sense it in the Force! I don't know who this Trandoshan is. But he is _not_ Ra's-Al-Ghul!"

The Anzat smiled and bowed, right hand crossing his chest. "Forgive me, Milord. But we had to be sure you were who _you_ said you were. I am Henrid Ucard; also known as Ra's-Al-Ghul. He whom you seek."

It was only his respirator mask that kept everyone else present from seeing the puzzled expression on Vader's face.

"An Anzat... with a Tisshar name?"

The green-garbed humanoid smiled again. "It seemed prudent to adopt one upon gaining honorary membership in the Tisshar League. This one is my bodyguard, Way-Lon Jonesss. Half-Tisshar; half-Trandoshan; and fully loyal to me. By frequently posing as each other, we have thwarted many attempts upon my life."

"Hmph!" Vader grunted as he deactivated his lightsaber and reattached it to his belt. "A ploy worthy of the Sith."

"You honor me with the comparison. How may I repay the compliment?"

"By allowing me to converse with you. In private!"

Ucard nodded at Jonesss who reholstered his twin blasters before walking around the left side of the desk and exiting the same way everyone else had come in. He was promptly followed by the two storm troopers after a similar nod from Vader. When they were alone, the Sith Lord turned to the Anzat and got directly to the point.

"What can you tell me about Guns of Command, Imskian dragon-pearls, and an organization calling itself 'The Legion of Doom'?"

Once more, Ucard smiled. A facial expression that would have unnerved most anyone else! But, Vader, of course, was not just anyone.

"The Guns of Command are manufactured by the xenophobic matriarchy known as the Hapes Consortium. The royal constabulary of same using them primarily to execute traitors to the crown via hypnotically induced suicide! For the past year or so, smugglers unknowingly working for me have traded refined glitterstim for those guns. Half of them are then shipped to Nar Shadda, via Peridon's Folly, for use by the semi-private security service known as Corellian Port Control. The other half are brought here to undergo certain modifications... which, I sense, you are already familiar with."

Vader's silence gave assent to Ucard's suspicion. So, the Anzat smilingly continued.

"Once the modifications are complete, the guns are evenly divided, yet again. Half of them being used to safeguard Askajian slave girls being used to retrieve certain amounts of water from Lake Nath on the planet Ambria. The other half being returned to our Hapan supplier, along with yet more glitterstim, as a bonus payment, for more Guns of Command!"

"Toward what end?" growled Vader.

"Why, the eventual overthrow of the Hapan Matriarch!" replied Ucard with a grin. "Evidently, there is an anti-feminist equivalent of the Rebel Alliance within the Hapes Cluster."

Vader slowly nodded in comprehension; the pieces of information being provided by Ucard with surprising frankness fitting together perfectly. Still, there was one thing that had not been explained. At least, not to the Sith Lord's satisfaction.

"What of this Legion of Doom?"

Whatever glib answer Ucard might have given next was interrupted. Initially, by the sounds of frantic blaster fire. Followed by the sound of shattered bone and masonry as three bodies came flying back into the consular office like meteorites!

Way-Lon Jonesss; followed by Vader's two storm troopers

JABBA THE HUTT'S PALACE (22 BBY)

Nearly four thousand years earlier, Twi'lek Jedi Master Tot Doneeta had become disheartened by the violent streak his favorite student had developed towards the end of the Great Sith War. To relieve that post-war depression, he journeyed to Tattooine in order to join the Bomarr Monastery. The members of which meditated on the mysteries of the universe in a unique way. They eliminated the distraction of organic corporeality by having their surgically-removed brains placed in liquid-filled transparisteel globes attached to spidery-legged droids!

Yet three thousand, nine hundred seventy-seven years later, Master Doneeta had a vision. One in which he foresaw a very negative shift in the balance of the Force occurring in the very near future. And the mysterious being now known as 'Chief Brightburn' was at the center of it. Unfortunately, there was only one other being in the entire galaxy who had had this same vision. Jedi healer Master Lezlee Tomkin.

After an initial consultation with Master Yoda, she and Sergeant Logunn of the Antarian Rangers journeyed to Tattooine so she could arrange to confer with Master Doneeta in person. Imagine her surprise, then, when she and Logunn found the disembodied Twi'lek waiting for them at their Mos Eisley landing bay!

"I saw in my vision," he had explained via his droid's built-in interpretron. "...that the only way to capture this Chief Brightburn would be with behind-the-scenes help from Jabba the Hutt. But he is a notoriously difficult personage to get to see. And that cannot be circumvented, using the Jedi mind trick, because Hutts are naturally immune to it! So, that left only one other alternative. Abducting Jabba's majordomo, Bib Fortuna, and using the mind-trick on him so that he _verbally_ persuades his master to grant us (or, rather, certain specially selected associates of ours) an audience."

Such was the explanation given aboard Sergeant Logunn's Corellian-built YT-1000 space freighter, 'The Nightshrike', to Junior Antarian Ranger Bruce Wayne and Jonn Jonzz the Morseerian Manhunter as they flew from Coruscant to Tattooine.

"Let me guess this straight," said Bruce. "The two of you, with Logunn's help, abducted this Bib Fortuna last year? Just so you could telepathically implant him with post-hypnotic suggestions? For when the right time came?!"

"Like the brain-spider said, kid," Logunn had replied over the intercom from the dorsal cockpit. "No other alternative."

Suddenly, Bruce was snapped out of this introspective reverie by shouts of alarm from all corners of Jabba' s personal communications center.

"What is it?" Bruce frantically half-shouted over the surrounding din. "What's wrong?"

"One of the Gamorrean look-outs just spotted a small army of Sand People headed this way," the Morseerian Manhunter replied. "With Chief Brightburn leading the charge!"

tbc