The light glaring into the prisoner's face was blinding.
Stone walls enclosed the small workshop of the deranged monster's torture chamber. Instruments built to inflict pain hung from rusted hooks on the cold, gray walls. The prisoner, strapped to a huge rack designed to course electricity through a victim's body at maximum voltage, had only a few moments to glance at his surroundings, before it began again. He roared in pain as ten thousand volts of pure electricity ran through his body at the speed of light. The electricity continued, steadily increasing in voltage- and in pain. The man knew he should have been dead, but yet he wasn't.
He knew the only reason he was still alive was because it suited the monster.
He stood in the room, garbed in dark gray robes, nearly blending in with the stone around him. A hood concealed his face. The man could picture his spectral tormentor to be some sort of demon beneath the voluminous robes. His dark powers were all that kept the man alive, if only because it was good for him. He thrived on pain and suffering. It wasn't often an actual living being graced his dark fortress. The opportunity the monster had before him wouldn't be lost.
The monster thrived on pain.
He fed on it.
He became stronger as Roykin Dermitchal's pained screams increased in volume. Any other being's ears may have bled at the screaming. The servants around him could shrug it off, as they had no hearing anymore. The beasts that served the monster, part machine and part living being, existed only to serve the monster's dark will. Their master thrived in pain, and if the master thrived, so did the beasts that served him.
The Dark Side was strong on Shola. The monster is a powerful Dark Force user, and his servants are creations of the lost art of Mecho-Daru-Vitae, but more refined than Belia Darzu's creations of a millennia ago. They are mindless, powerful, and nearly unstoppable minions born of the power of the Dark Side. Phiht Piroc has no idea of what hell the fire-world of Shola really hides.
Hyperspace, YT-2400 freighter Call of Destiny, nearing the Taris system
I sat in front of the control console of my starship, wondering. After over a decade, an old friend has contacted me, asking for aid. I hadn't thought of him in some time, but as I sat here, in the surreal world of hyperspace. I feared for him. I didn't feel emotion all that well anymore, but I actually felt fear. I worried that he would die before I could help him. Before I could help him though, I had a job to finish. Drolslobba couldn't be kept waiting. I had a job to finish.
Pulling back on a lever on the console, I pulled the Destiny out of lightspeed. Before me loomed the city-world of Taris. Like Coruscant, much of the planet was covered in a massive city, towering kilometers
above the actual surface of the planet. Parts of the underlevels of Taris never saw daylight. From this planet in the Outer Rim, Drolslobba ran his criminal empire.
While actually an extension of the prominent Besadii clan kajidic, Drolslobba's operation on Taris was a powerful empire in its own right. He, like Desilijic's member Jabba, had a massive operation running much of the crime, organized and whatnot, throughout the sector. His greasy hands were in everything from smuggling to prostitution to gambling, even to murder. Every criminal in this sector of space ultimately answered to Drolslobba. It was him that had put the price out on Renatu Madak, and it was to him I had to bring the small wooden box from Madak's cargo hold. The box sat on the seat next to me, strapped down in the crash webbing restraints.
Tapping a couple keys on the console, I transmitted the landing codes to land at Drolslobba's palace, a huge building in the government district of Taris. In a sense, it was slightly ironic. The Hutt ran the biggest illicit business in this corner of the galaxy from a high-rise in the home of what passed for a local Tarisian government. His palace was practically next door from the Imperial Governor's residence on Taris. Rumors I've heard say that Governor Adriadian was good friends with Drolslobba. It would explain why the Hutt's cronies never got caught at anything.
The skyline of the main part of the city on Taris came into view as I swept the Destiny across the huge ocean that dominated the world. The sight was breathtaking, the ocean reflecting the sunlight in glimmering patterns. But I didn't pay much attention to it. Drolslobba's palace was in view.
The Hutt's citadel was right on the ocean, a massive, robust tower that, in a way, resembled the other Hutt palaces across the galaxy. It looked squat and thick compared to the other towers nearby, but it still dominated the coastal skyline. Near to Drolslobba's tower was the highest spire on the planet, the residence of the Imperial governor. A sharp contrast to Drolslobba's squat, domed tower, the residence of the governor was a tall, thin, and needlepointed skyscraper. Its outer shell was made of mirrored transparisteel, giving it a glimmering appearance in the morning sun. I transmitted ID codes to Drolslobba's hangar control. As the console beeped an affirmative response, massive door on the side of Drolslobba's tower slid open. Guiding my freighter through the opening, I found myself inside a massive hangar. It probably took up the majority of this floor of the tower. Other starships, representing every small starship on the market, from gunboats to yachts to junk haulers, sat in berths arranged neatly across the wide space. Finding a berth lit for landing, I smoothly landed in the square, feeling an almost-satisfying lurch as the ship's landing gear deployed and took on the weight of the Call of Destiny. Grabbing the wooden box on the seat beside me, I rose from the pilot's chair and walked into the main hold of the freighter. I opened the weapon locker and removed a set of WESTAR-34 blaster pistols in matching leather holsters. In the middle of a Hutt's palace, I didn't want to appear to heavily armed, lest I insult my host. I clipped the holsters to my belt, then exited the freighter, into the dimly-lit hangar of Drolslobba's palace.
Taris, Palace of Drolslobba Besadii Grondi
"Ah!" The voice of Drolslobba boomed as I entered what passed as his throne room. The massive Hutt reclined on a raised platform, surrounded by slave girls of several species, most prominently Twi'leks and Humans. "Phiht Piroc, my good friend! I hope you bring news of Madak's timely death."
"It was taken care of as paid for, Lord Drolslobba." I was always polite to the Hutt. He always followed through on his promises, a respectable quality in this age, even for a Hutt. He paid well for my assignments, and sometimes he was so elated with my success, I walked away with a bonus. He was an unusually generous Hutt, which worked by me. I walked close to the dais and placed the small wooden box from Madak's ship in front of the Hutt. He was definitely happy, judging by the huge grin crossing his ugly blob of a head. His eyes were widened too, which amplified the pale orange of them. A disgusting creature, to be sure, but a generous one as well.
"You please me yet again, Phiht Piroc." He motioned to a male Human standing to the far end of the room. The slightly-overweight man ran forward and opened the box sitting in front of his master. He pulled back the hinged lid, revealing a small wooden carving.
All in all, it looked disappointing. I expected something more grandiose. But the Hutt was happy. That's what really counted.
"This means a lot to me, bounty hunter, perhaps more than you can imagine. As a gesture of my appreciation, I'm going to give you a twenty percent bonus to the agreed-upon sum."
I smiled behind the visor of the Mandalorian helmet I wore. "I appreciate your generosity, Lord Drolslobba."
The big Hutt still grinned. He clutched the box in his tiny little hands with glee, like some small child with a cherished toy. "If there is any other way I can assist you, my esteemed friend, do not hesitate to ask. Your assistance is always valuable, so it's only fair that I assist you in return, if needed.
I thought about it for a second. Drolslobba had a massive criminal empire, like a lot of Hutts. Perhaps he knew something about the out-of-the-way world of Shola. "Your eminence, I'm curious. Do you know anything of the world of Shola? It's a volcanic planet in the Outer Rim. I must travel there shortly, and I know nothing of the world."
Drolslobba's huge grin disappeared, and it was replaced with a look resembling horror. "My friend, Shola is a hell world, in more ways than one. I would advise you not to travel there, unless you absolutely must."
"Drolslobba, Your Eminence, I must travel there. There isn't an option."
The Hutt grimaced. "Shola is a volcanic world. It was, at one time, home to a species of humanoids, but they're all gone now. They tunneled down towards the planet's core, and nearly made
it, but in the process destroyed their entire species. The entire surface is covered in volcanoes, lava, and ash, much like Sullust or Mustafar. But, as of late, the rumor amongst gunrunners and smugglers, who sometimes use the world for a base, is that there is a Dark Jedi on the world."
"What can you tell me of the Dark Jedi?"
"According to rumor, he was once a Jedi Knight who fell away from the order, and the Light Side of the Force, during the Clone Wars. He somehow got his hands on a Sith holocron and learned several dark, twisted powers from it. He holed up on Shola in some sort of castle built into the side of a mountain. He's lured many of my smugglers and operatives on the world to the castle, as he has with many who step on the surface. There, according to rumor, he makes each and every one of them his slave."
From the rumors Drolslobba had heard, this Dark Jedi was very powerful, and bent on power. My curiosity, however, was spiked by the holocron he mentioned. What Dark Lord had made it? The way Drolslobba talked about it, he had learned a way to bend a massive amount of people to his will. That could be a problem too. A Dark Jedi holed up in a castle is bad enough, but throwing an army of minions in there as well is crazy. But I made a promise to Roykin, and I'd go through on it.
"Drolslobba, this Dark Jedi is who I'm after. I'm going to Shola to take care of him."
I had thought the look of horror on his face was bad the first time. He somehow looked even more horrified this time. "Phiht, my friend, that task may be too much for even you. Jedi are bad enough to deal with. Dark Jedi are worse."
"I must go."
The Hutt frowned. Who would have thought a Hutt was capable of caring? "So be it. Your transport will be refueled and ready to go when you reach the hangar. If you return, I may have another assignment for you, my friend. Don't get yourself killed."
"I won't Drolslobba, and thank you." I turned and swept from the Hutt's throne room. As I walked, I evaluated what I knew so far. The Dark Jedi had a huge castle as his lair, and inside it somewhere was Roykin, and possibly an army of mindless slaves to the Dark Jedi's will. I had encountered a few Force-users in my travels, especially during the Clone Wars a decade ago. They were powerful and, in the instances of some of the acolytes in league with the Separatists during the war, frightening. I had never faced one in combat though. I had no idea how to face a Force-user in combat. A Jedi had an awesome command of the Force, and could draw upon many powers during combat. They also used lightsabers, which could easily be trouble. The beskar plating of my armor could provide protection against lightsabers, but if it cut through anything not covered by armor I could end up missing a limb. All in all, the odds were stacked against me.
I reached the hangar and entered the massive, cavernous space. A ground crew was just finishing with refueling the Destiny as I reached the boarding ramp. I went aboard, and not even bothering to stow my weapons in the locker in the main hold, I entered the cockpit and powered the
ship up. I activated the ship's repulsors, lifting it off the ground, and swung out of the hangar into the night sky of Taris, brilliantly lit by the lights of the buildings around me. I pulled the ship into outer orbit, out of Taris's gravity well, and plotted a course to the hell world of Shola. The stars flared around me, and the Call of Destiny entered hyperspace.