Big thanks to Firehawk1100 for being my beta for this chapter and the next few as well.
The First of Many: Part Six
Skona was the last to enter the large chamber. Its ceiling was riddled with colorful gems of all shapes and sizes. He walked slowly to his seat, using his wooden staff to assist. He was getting old, already beyond the normal life expectancy of his people. Unlike the surface-dwelling brethren of theirs, his people usually don't live past seventy. He was ninety.
He felt his bones ache as he sat in his chair. If it weren't for his successor disappearing during her effort to discover what became of their missing brothers and sisters, he would still be enjoying the comfort of retirement.
Damn pirates. Why couldn't they terrorize the Elomin instead?
Skona knew it was awful to have such thoughts. It wasn't that he or his people harbor any ill will towards the Elomin. The conflict between their species had long ended, and the animosity between them evaporated when he was a child. Their relationship had never been stronger, but that didn't mean he wouldn't put the needs and safety of his people before Amieto's.
He was sure Amieto felt the same way. What leader wouldn't be?
Skona just didn't understand why anyone would purposely target his kind for anything. They were hard workers, but not at all fit for slave work or the like. To the galaxy, at best his people were viewed as traders, at worst, bumpkins that liked to dig holes.
But such thoughts were neither here nor there. He had to focus on his submission to the man that conquered the surface.
Skona inspected the six borough representatives that sat beside him, seeing if they were ready to begin. Seeing their collection of nods, he slammed the end of his staff against the ground. "Let them in," he ordered, his voice echoing loudly in the chamber.
Large doors opened, making way for three individuals to enter. Amieto and her droid flanked the sides of a human male with brown combed-back hair. That must be Coquer. Amieto had stated he was young, but Skona didn't think he was that young. The boy hardly looked like the threat his ally warned him to be, but he knew better to question the friendly advice Amieto gave.
She was the warrior of great skills, waging wars against her own people since she was able to pick up a blade. The fact she now wore the title of Chieftain of the Elomin also added weight to her words of caution. If she said it would be suicide to stand against Coquer, he would believe her without reservation.
From the brief conservation they shared when setting the time of this meeting, she informed him about the purpose of Coquer's conquest. The saying, "history repeats itself", rang true. To think war would be waged in the galaxy and his planet unwanted participants once again. He could only hope that the Elomin and his people don't suffer the same fate as their ancestors did during the Cold War.
Coquer took a few steps towards him and the other representatives. He greeted them with the Elomin welcome—cuping his fist and bowing. Skona raised an eyebrow. Though not a greeting of his people—nor was it a disrespectful act—the old leader didn't expect his conqueror to be at all respectful to the culture of the vanquished.
Coquer spoke, but Skona didn't understand him. He picked up a few sounds and syllables to identify the language the human spoke was Basic, but that was it. He was a bit rusty in the language department since retirement. When Coquer was finished, Amieto's droid translated.
"Leader Skona, Commander Coquer would like to thank you for—"
"Tell him to skip the pleasantries." They both knew what this was about. No need to keep the charade going. "Chieftain Amieto already told me the reason as to why Coquer is here." Skona sighed. "What are his terms for our surrender?"
The droid translated his message which caused Coquer to stare at him, confused. He patiently waited as the human finished talking.
"He says there might be some misunderstanding. This isn't him demanding a surrender, nor would he ever will. It seems Commander Coquer only asks that you consider joining the Confederacy of Independent Systems. He gives you his word that you would receive the same treatment and promises as he gave to Chieftain Amieto."
Skona's eyes flicked over to Amieto. She gave him a nod. He shook his head, sighing.
"Tell him we pledge our loyalty to the Confederacy."
His acceptance must've been a relief based on how Coquer's form laxed.
"Commander Coquer thank you for agreeing to join the Confederacy. The lack of unnecessary bloodshed was something he greatly wished for." Coquer's eyes suddenly became hardened, fierce. The pointed glare made Skona tensed. "Now that you are allies, he wished to give the Elom a gift, as well as proof to the level of protection the Confederacy will provide in the future."
Skona raised an eyebrow at the word, "protection". The large doors opened again. A group of chained and shackled individuals were ushered in by two battle droids and two Elomin warriors. His council started shouting, demanding answers. With a swift tap of his staff against the marble ground, Skona silenced his peers.
While their brethren above had started to take a stance against slavery since they rejoined the Republic a few decades ago, Skona and his people had not once humor the inhuman act.
"Droid, explain," Skona demanded.
"O—of course, Leader Skona," the droid stuttered, clearly shaken from his heated glare.
As ordered, the droid explained the situation. The pirates. The missing Elom. The...pelts. The skirmish Amieto and Coquer fought in. Everything was told to him.
Skona was speechless at the news. Then he was livid. For the past six rotations, these animals were butchering his people for knock-off pelts. The fact the Senators of the Republic wanted Wookie pelts was a sickening enough notion to comprehend. The idea the pirates were getting paid by the so-called upstanders of democracy and freedom just made him absolutely furious.
His veins burned with rage, and his heart demanded revenge.
I lost my granddaughter to these bastards.
Skona tightly clenched his staff as he let out a primal sounding growl.
"Guards, take them away," he ordered. "They shall be slated for execution in the morning."
The guards moved to follow the command. The pirates' pleas and begging fell to deaf ears. No one batted an eye as they were dragged out of the chamber.
Perhaps now the families of the victims could have a peace of mind, knowing what happened to the missing.
Skona gazed upon Coquer. "We thank you for bringing us those that caused my people so much strife."
Coquer smiled. It looked earnest. "The Commander says your gratitude, while appreciated, was not needed. He would have done the same even if you refused his offer."
"Hm."
That was most likely a lie, but then again, his words and actions said he was an honest sort. A warrior of honor, much like the Elomin were. Maybe this deal wouldn't be as bad as he originally thought it would be.
"To our long future as allies," Skona said with a smile.
B1-259 and B1-853 stood at a distance, keeping watch while their human commander conversed with Amieto and her translator droid.
Despite successfully bringing the planet into the CIS, the mission was still a failure. The objective continued to flash on B1-259's optics, demanding the machine to accomplish what it was ordered to do. The droid felt the circuits in its inner components urging it to raise its blaster and fire upon the people of Elom. To enslave the inhabitants and turn them into another cog in the war machine.
"I refuse to let your souls be tainted as long as you are under my care."
B1-259 didn't want to follow the directive displayed before it. The mission went against its soul. Or, the very least, went against human Coquer's soul.
"Hey." B1-853 leaned in close to 259. "What do you think they're talking about?" the droid asked in a whisper.
259 trained its optics on the two organic beings, focusing on their lip movements. The droid wasn't programmed with the knowledge of the Elom language, but it could perhaps decipher their conversation based on human Coquer's responses.
"It seems the commander is thanking her for her help in our mission." The two watched as the leaders shook hands. "And she's expressing her gratitude as well."
"Wait. She's glad for us to win?" 853 asked, confused at their friendly deposition. "But...we conquered them. Shouldn't she be angry with us? Why are they…" it gestured at the two, completely lost of words.
259 agreed with 853, both in its confusion and the lack of words. Their interaction was nothing like what they were programmed to expect for their victories. Smoke and ash wafting in the air, the defeated either crushed underneath their heels or bound in chains for servitude was more to what they were programmed to expect—to accomplish. Not comradery between the vanquished and the victor.
"I'm not sure." Human Coquer started making his way towards them. "But...I do not mind it."
And those words rang true for 259. While the scene seemed wrong to view from its optics, it didn't—in terms understandable to a living being—feel wrong to look at. At the end of the day, this was what they were designed to do. Bring planets into CIS, granting them peace from the tyranny of the corrupted Galactic Republic. If such a goal could be accomplished without complete destruction towards others, was the mission truly a failure?
Commander Coquer approached them. "259, 853," he looked at them respectively, surprising 259. He got their serial number correct. Not even its creators could do that. "Are you two ready to depart?"
The directive, "invade and subjugate the masses on Elom" was still laid before 259. It…didn't want to follow the command. It liked the results of this mission—the lack of bloodshed and destruction. The deaths of the pirates were necessary for they lacked a soul. At least, that was what 259 got from the brief conversation it shared with Coquer. To do something wrong meant you lacked a soul. Perhaps that was why Coquer didn't want them to taint their souls. For if they did, they would lose it forever.
But 259 wasn't living. It was of nuts and bolts. Could it have a soul? The droid was still trying to figure that damn question out.
"I refuse to let your souls be tainted as long as you are under my care."
259 did something the droid never thought it could do. It ignored the order given to it by Count Dooku. 259 glanced at 853, sharing eye contact. They were both droids, built and programmed the same way. If 259 decided to supersede Dooku's orders with Coquer's, then 853 more than likely did the same. The whole fleet probably had the same line of thought.
259 looked at Coquer. Once again, the commander ignited another dormant programming. "Yes, Commander. I think we are."
Coquer leaned back his chair, heaving a long sigh. He rubbed his eyes, ridding them of their drowsiness. Now that he actually had time to sit and relax, fatigue was finally catching up with him. The only sleep he had was when he was traveling to Serenno, and that was only for a couple of hours.
Has it been three days? Or was it four?
He even lost track of how long he'd been awake for. Strange how easy it was to lose one's sense of time. Coquer haven't felt this drained since Ryloth, where Trench first gave him command of his fleet.
The transport ship shook as it broke through the atmosphere and once again, B1-259 creaked from the turbulence. The first thing he was doing once he arrived at his ship, was making sure 259 followed through on his earlier order of checking its shoulder.
The holocom before him beeped, signaling an incoming transmission. Coquer groaned, wishing he could have traveled in silence. He had a pretty good idea as to who was contacting him. Coquer answered the transmission and was welcomed with a three-dimensional image of a Neimoidian, male by the looks of them.
His cheeks were more gaunt than the most of his species, and was wearing a stylish dark-blue robe and a hat of the same color. His eyes were covered by a pair of data goggles. Not surprising he wore a pair, and he didn't mean just because Neimoidians jealously guarded the schematic for their species alone. Neimoidians who want to make a career in warfare wore them to get a heads up against their adversaries.
"Evening," Coquer greeted what he was sure was his replacement. "I'm assuming the General sent you to take over the campaign for Elom?"
The corner of the Neimoidian's lips tug upwards. "That is correct, Coquer, ward of Count Dooku, commander in the Confederate Navy."
"I see that you know of me, mister…?"
"Tuuk. Mar Tuuk," the Neimoidian finally introduced himself. "Captain in our movement's navy, and your replacement," he finished with a grin.
Coquer's eyebrow raised at the mention of Tuuk's rank. He was lower rank than he. Coquer thought Grievous would place another commander in charge, or go higher and have an admiral replace him. At least this made things a lot easier.
"In that case, Captain," Coquer spat. "You are no longer needed. The planet is ours."
"Oh?" Tuuk mused. The scope on his data goggles flipped, changing from red to blue. "So you enslaved the Elom and the Elomin?"
"No, I haven't," Coquer admitted confidently. "And I never will."
"Then the campaign is not over, Coquer—"
"Commander Coquer." His brows furrowed, his lips sunk into a frown. "You are talking to a superior officer, and you shall talk to me with the respect of one. Am I understood, Captain?"
Tuuk chuckled. "Commander or not, you, Coquer, have disobeyed a direct order from our Supreme Commander. You will probably be stripped of your rank and the respect that came with it. Maybe sent to prison." The smirk he wore was full of arrogance and cockiness. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, boy."
Coquer sighed. "No."
Tuuk looked taken back from his simple yet blunt response. "N—no?"
"You and everyone else always thinks when they see me, I'm just a stupid child playing soldier." His eyes suddenly hardened. Tuuk squirmed from his glare. "I am more of a soldier than you ever will be, Captain Mar Tuuk."
"My Lord gave me command of this campaign, and I succeeded in that in no less than three days. I lost no droids—suffered no loss. Gained not only what we came for, but also valuable allies for the Confederacy."
Tuuk cleared his throat. "B—but, General Grievous said—"
"Captain." Coquer leaned forward at the hologram, scowling at Tuuk. "I gave the leaders of Elom my word that they will be free citizens of the CIS, and you no doubt know I am Serennian."
"Y—yes."
"Then you know the depths a Serennian will go to keep their word."
The silence Tuuk answered with, was all Coquer needed to hear. A Serennian would go to hell and back to keep their promises. Wage wars even. A Serennian without their word, wasn't a Serennian at all.
"Now that we understand each other, Captain, leave now and I promise no ill will befall you."
"What about Grievous?" Tuuk asked. "He will not stand this kind of insubordination from two of his officers."
"Don't worry about him." Coquer grinned. "His ire will be directed towards me. You can trust me on that."
"How can I?"
Coquer's grin turned playful. "I'm a Serennian, remember?"
Tuuk blinked, and then chuckled. "True." He grinned. "Commander." He folded his hands behind his back. "You are...not what I expected Coquer."
"I get that a lot," he said with a shrug.
"I'm sure." The scope on Tuuk's data goggles flipped again. "Kood b'vy, Commander. I hope the next time we meet, it will be under better circumstances. Maybe play a game of chess."
"I look forward to it, Captain Mar Tuuk."
The transmission ended. Coquer slumped back with a sigh. Threats were something that came naturally to him. It was the honesty in his words that made his foes squirm and beg. Tuuk being a Neimoidian also helped. They were known to be cowards. A little promise of death usually made them bend their knee.
From the cockpit, he saw what he assumed to be Tuuk's ship leaving the system. The captain's attitude towards the end was pleasant, friendly even. To think instilling a little fear was all it took to be taken seriously and gain a friend. It made more sense than him knowing where that dying pirate was going to shoot him.
Coquer replayed the event so many times and it still made no bloody sense to him. There was no way for him to know where the pirate was. It was like his instincts showed a glimpse of what was to come. It was strange, and if he was being honest, scary. His instincts were something he was proud of. They had helped him plenty in his training, but being able to see what his instincts were telling him was on a whole different level.
Perhaps it was a one-time thing, and he was fretting over nothing.
They arrived at his flagship. He still hadn't named the vessel. The mercenaries under Trench said it was bad luck to fly an unnamed starship. He wasn't a superstitious man, but it would be good to give his ship a name rather than referring to it as the Providence-class dreadnought for the rest of his life.
When the ship landed, Coquer stood from his seat and made it to the exit where his two guards stood. He playfully slapped B1-259 on its shoulder. Now that he actually had spent time with the two droids, it was quite easy to differentiate between the two. B1-853 had lugnuts where screws should've been placed, and B1-259 had a tendency of tilting its head to the left. He guessed even droids had their quirks that made them special.
It was a pretty human quality of them.
Coquer smiled at B1-259. "Now, I hope you didn't forget about my order when we left for the planet, Mister Rust," he joked.
He paused, mulling over what he said. Now that he said it out loud, he liked that name. It was short, simple, and very fitting of the droid beside him. If the machines have human quirks, why not let them have human nicknames?
Coquer let out an amused snort. "B1-259, your name is forever now, Rust." He let go of the droid as the hatch opened.
They walked out of the ship. "Uh, sir, my serial number is—"
"I hear none of it. Your name is Rust, and that's an order. It'll be easier to remember you all by names rather than numbers." Coquer faced B1-853. "Make sure Rust gets his shoulder checked…" He scratched his chin, pondering about a nickname for the unmanned droid.
He snapped his finger, having thought of the perfect name. "Lugnut. The same order goes for you too, Lugnut. No more referring to yourself as B1-853."
The newly named Rust and Lugnut glanced at each other. Lugnut shrugged. They turned their optics back to him. "Copy, sir," said Lugnut.
"Good." Coquer made his way out of the hangar. "Report to the bridge once you two are finished," he ordered them as he departed.
He walked the passageways and then entered the elevator that led straight to the bridge. When he reached his destination and exited the elevator, he was greeted with stares from the droids onboard the bridge. It was like they were waiting eagerly for his return.
"Commander," one of them called out to him. "Should we report our success to General Grievous?"
They know what happened.
Coquer grinned. He walked to the captain's chair, taking a seat. "Yes, and make sure to note that Captain Mar Tuuk arrived but was defied by me to take action against Elom." He had to keep his promise to the Neimoidian after all.
"Of course, sir." The droid turned to the console and paused. "Um, Commander, we need a name for the ship to be able to send the report. It's protocol."
"Ah."
He didn't think he had to name his ship so soon. He hoped he had a little more time. Naming a ship was an important decision. It showed a glimpse of what the captain of the vessel was and what they were about.
War was something he was bred for. His whole life was leading to this moment. As much as he regretted the fact, and his father starting this conflict just for him to be in, he couldn't wait. He was ready for what was to come, and eagerly awaited the victories he was about to claim. And based on the droids stare when he returned, so were they.
Coquer chuckled, having thought of the perfect name for his vessel of war. A bit childish, he would have to admit, but it matched perfectly for his and his droids' attitude towards the war.
"The Alacrity," he told the droid. "This ship is called the Alacrity."
Amieto was standing in an open field, not once moving from her position from when she had the conversation with Coquer. In the short span of three days, a child took control of an entire planet. A feat not even the Sith Empire nor the Galactic Republic could accomplish during the Cold War.
After everything was said and done, when the dust had settled and victory was in his grasp, Coquer said the one thing she would never forget. He said, "thank you for your assistance".
Her hands clenched into fists, trembling. Her lips stuck in a deep frown, scowling at the starships that littered the skies. It infuriated her just thinking about his parting words.
"Chieftain," her translator droid called out to her. "Should we begin our trip back to Elos?"
"Not yet," she growled.
Amieto was angry—furious was probably a better word to express the raging tempest within. More so at herself than the situation she was in.
She had lived for over eighty years, around sixty of which were spent disputing the other Elomin clans with the business end of her blade. She had gone against the toughest of foes with only her wits and strength at her arsenal. Led her clan to victories that many thought would be impossible. Brought peace to a land that was left as a shell of its former self from a political war that they didn't want any part in.
And throughout her journey, throughout the blood she shed, the hands she shook, and the words she slither into people's minds, not once was she afraid. Not once had she cowered before a foe, bowing her head and tucking a tail between her legs, praying that her deeds wouldn't upset the one who controlled her leash.
That was, until she met Coquer.
When Amieto first met him, she thought him a weakling. A simple boy with enough firepower to get what he demanded without question. The fact he was honorable and truthful with his words and actions proved his virginity towards the ways of combat. One didn't win wars by playing nice after all. But he proved her wrong when they exterminated the pirates.
Even now, she shivered at the memory of his face during that night. It was like staring at a being who didn't know how to smile, forcing themselves to blend in with the masses. And his eyes, lacking the smallest spark of life in them, were staring right through her like she was nothing, despite the obvious tone of worry in his voice.
Amieto had seen many warriors in a similar or worse state than what Coquer was. Men literally bathing in the blood of their victims, cackling like a mad magus. Women slitting the throats of children, all while wearing a giddy smile.
But somehow Coquer was different—worse in some regards. It was like a ranphyx in sheep's clothing, without the ranphyx knowing it was a predator. From the glimpse Amieto saw of his nature, the predator within Coquer was nothing alike she witnessed before. To put it simply, he was a monster waiting to be unleashed, and one didn't upset a monster by refusing their commands, no matter how frustrating it might be to follow them.
"Chieftain Amieto," a gruff raspy voice called from behind. "Surprise to see you are still here."
Amieto turned around, seeing her good friend and ally, Skona approaching with two guards flanking his sides. His guards stood at an appropriate distance away as he continued walking.
"Leader Skona," she welcomed with her people's greeting. She glanced at her droid. "Leave us."
"As you wish, Chieftain Amieto." The droid waddled off.
Amieto looked at Skona. "It has been some time since you and I met on the surface."
"Yes, indeed it has," he agreed with a chuckle. He looked at the sky. "I thought it was time to get some fresh air." He proved the point by audibly inhaling and exhaling.
Amieto shook her head with an amused grin. Age hadn't changed his sense of humor. The two stood in comfortable silence, gazing at the starships in the sky. One by one, the ships started to leave the planet.
"Do you think he will alter our arrangement?" Skona asked. "You've spent the most time with him."
I wished I hadn't.
"Despite what my instincts are telling me." Amieto glanced at him. "I do not think Coquer will."
She reached inside her pocket and took out a communicator. "He handed me this when he left. It is to contact him if those that are sent after him decide to change the agreement we have cemented with him."
"I see," Skona hummed with a nod. He started making his way back home. "Then perhaps we have nothing to worry about."
Amieto watched as her friend returned to the boroughs. Such optimism was admirable. It explained much as to why Skona was placed as the leader of his people during his prime. She wished she could share in his positivity.
She spared a glance at the last warship as it exited the system. "I pray for all who may become his enemy."
Author's Note: And that's the end of the first arc of The Son of Dooku. I hope you enjoy it as much as I had writing it. I placed a poll asking about what you think about the arc. You can also PM me your thoughts about it or the story in general.
Like I said before, there will be no updates for the month of November due to military obligations. I will be working on the story for that month, so there will be a good steady flow of chapters when I get back.
Till Next Time
Updated Dec 20 2021