When the recording was over, Mara was, as usual, the quickest to recover from any surprise. Luke wasn't far behind, but he subtly gestured that she should take the lead while his brain churned through all the potential repercussions of Captain Rogriss' presence.
Mara paced, spiked the smaller woman with a piercing, evaluative gaze, and struck. "You're here to offer a peace treaty and military collaboration to the New Republic?"
Rogriss didn't flinch, but even Luke could see her swallow down nerves, as her sharp-featured face tightened with resolve.
The fact that he, Mara, and Mirax were festooned with all manner of weapons and equipment from Beldorion's armory, and wore them with the comfort of a casual fashion ensemble, probably contributed to that. Her dark, shoulder-length hair swung back and forth slightly around her face as she nodded, and spoke.
"I am authorized to make and negotiate for certain proposals," the Imperial captain said warily, glancing briefly at the man next to her—Commander Dreyf, Mara had introduced him, in an almost friendly-for-her fashion. "If the proposals are within an acceptable range. Final acceptance can, of course, only be authorized by the Grand Moff himself. Primarily I am here to offer General Antilles an urgent and more informal collaboration to deal with a threat to us both." Her lips thinned together, her expression slightly uncertain. "I understand that my father had a similar arrangement with General Solo to fight Warlord Zsinj. This would be no different."
Mirax was still staring at the space where the blue, shimmering holo of Syal Antilles Fel was frozen mid-speech. "It's a little different!" She shook her head. "I haven't seen Syal since I was a sprout. The last time I remember us being together she was babysitting Ve—Wedge and I while their folks were working with my Mom and Dad." She cursed and pointed angrily at Captain Rogriss. "Do you have any idea how long Wedge has been looking for her? The kind of worries he's been carrying around with him since she and Fel vanished with Isard on their trail?"
"I don't," the Imperial responded steadily. "I've never met her personally, and I didn't know of her personal significance to General Antilles until I was given this assignment by the Baron and Grand Moff."
Mirax rubbed her face. "Kriffing Imperials."
"Do you know who Roganda Ismaren is?"
All eyes in the room tracked to Mara, whose green eyes were locked not on Rogriss, but on Dreyf. The intelligence officer met her gaze only briefly before he glanced at his superior. Rogriss nodded that he should answer and Dreyf shifted to stretch his shoulders before he met Mara's gaze once more. "She's the mother of the Emperor-in-waiting. Rumor has it she served the Emperor in a number of capacities, which she is using to claim that the young Emperor is Palpatine's heir. She and the Emperor have been in hiding for some months, attended to frequently by the Emperor-Regent, who is rumored, even more quietly, to be the boy's actual father."
"So you don't know that she's here, on Nar Shaddaa, right now?"
The sudden, stunned expressions on the two Imperials were more than enough to betray that neither of them had known. Captain Rogriss had an impressive Sabacc face, and Dreyf's was even more impressive, but neither of them could hold it now. "Here?" Dreyf asked, trying to sound casual.
"Here. On Nar Shaddaa. Right now." Mara gestured at herself and Luke. "In fact, that's why we're here. A cyberneticist she kidnapped got a message to the Jedi asking for help. Apparently, her hiding place is called Silencer Station, some kind of manufactory run by droids. She's here on Nar Shaddaa to find an ancient Force artifact that will 'complete' it."
Luke stared at Mara. Her tone was authoritative and clear, and her native Coruscanti accent had become just a hint more clear. He realized that he wasn't just seeing Mara Jade, Jedi Knight, but the faint phantom of Mara Jade, Emperor's Hand. Faced with two Imperials, she was asserting her authority—and Luke wasn't sure if she was doing it on purpose to try to extract their cooperation, or if it came to her naturally.
Both Imperials straightened even more, Dreyf in particular adopting an expression that was increasingly deferential. Despite that, he didn't speak, he just listened. It was Captain Rogriss who spoke.
"Cards on the table, then," she said. "The New Order attacked Poln Major. Admiral Pellaeon and Baron Fel defeated their forces, but part of their attack force was a large quantity of droid starfighters. The single most important reason we're here is because we have no idea where they got those droid starfighters from or how many more they can produce. The Grand Moff and the Baron believe this represents a threat to us both and that we should settle our differences only after that threat has been… eliminated."
"Hmmm." Mara nodded. "Yes, that sounds like Ferrouz."
"We have a lead on Roganda," Luke said. "She is here, and whatever she is after has something to do with droids. We were told by a local contact that she recently traveled to the old Industrial District here on Nar Shaddaa and that in the aftermath of her visit, droids have been attacking the locals in growing numbers."
Dreyf looked at Mara. "Contact?"
Mara just gave him a look that said Don't be stupid.
Dreyf conceded with a graceful downward nod.
"We would send you back to Coruscant," Luke went on, "to meet with Wedge." He sensed no deception from the two of them, though he wasn't sure if he would sense any deception from Dreyf in any case, the man's mind was incredibly guarded for a non-Force sensitive. Captain Rogriss, by contrast, was remarkably open and dare he say… earnest. "But—"
"We're staying to help you investigate," Rogriss said. She raised a hand to cut off Dreyf's potential objection. "That's an order, Commander. If there is something here that is important enough for Roganda Ismaren to be here in person, we are going to ensure that she does not go home with it. After all, our mission objective is not to make peace with the New Republic. That was a means to our actual end, which is to eliminate the New Order as a threat. Accomplishing that is our first priority." She then looked at Mara and Luke. "How can we help?"
"What ship did you come in?" Mara asked. "And what kind of intelligence suite does it carry?"
Dreyf glanced sideways at Rogriss. The Imperial captain offered him a spare nod, and Dreyf leaned in. "We came in an intelligence courier," he confirmed. "A disguised Anxarta freighter."
"Class seven suite?"
"Only class six."
Mara's nose wrinkled with distaste. "Your bosses are getting cheap. A sign of the times I suppose."
Luke leaned towards Mara. "You have an idea for how to start?" he asked her.
She glanced up at him. To other people, Mara would have looked entirely composed, entirely professional. But he could see the excitement, the glimmer of anticipation, the eagerness to begin a familiar task that needed doing. "I do," she agreed.
The Anxarta-class freighter was a capable enough platform. It was a little small, and its sensor suite wasn't quite up to the standards the Emperor's Hand had been used to, but Mara would make do. Next to her, she could feel Dreyf watching her with concern. He wanted to know what she was thinking—he had asked her about it enough times—but she preferred to leave him to guess. Besides, this wasn't anything dangerous.
Not yet, anyway.
"We're shifting orbits," she told him. "Put us almost exactly above the coordinates we were given." He had asked her about those, too, but Mara was not prepared to reveal the fact that Beldorion the Hutt had aided their endeavor either, so that was another of Dreyf's questions that she left unanswered.
"Shifting orbits," Dreyf replied. His tone was calmly professional and reminded Mara clearly of all the officers who had come and gone while she was Emperor's Hand. They blurred together in her mind, since none of them had stayed with her long enough to really make an impression; the veteran, competent Dreyf would have fit right in with the rest. "Now what?"
"Bring up the suite." Mara glanced through the canopy of the freighter. There were several Hutt warships in the vicinity, which was more than she expected. "This orbit is busy," she commented. "The Hutts are probably hoping to keep anyone from getting a clear peek at the battle going on below."
"We should be far enough out to avoid drawing their attention as long as we don't linger."
"In and out," Mara instructed. "Eyes on, we get everything we can, and then we move on."
"Yes sir," Dreyf said obediently, not even thinking about it. Both of them stiffened in response and they shared an awkward look. Mara had fallen into the role of commanding Imperial officer, donning it like a jacket that still fit perfectly, and Dreyf had sunk easily into the role of loyal, capable subordinate. By silent, mutual acknowledgement, they let the moment pass. "Collecting data now," Dreyf reported instead.
"How long?"
"Ten minutes," Dreyf said. "Assuming our view isn't obscured in the interim."
Mara scoffed. "With a class seven, we would have been out in seven."
"Budget cuts," Dreyf muttered. "The Empire never recovered from the loss of Kuat."
She glanced over his shoulder at the console, checking the progress of the intelligence suite. "Do you want me to calibrate that?"
"I've got it." Dreyf's tone was calm, but with just a hint of reproach to it.
Mara let the moment pass. She watched the Hutt warships; the pair of state-of-the-art Chelandion-class cruisers both looked brand new. Neither of them was moving in their direction… yet… but their presence was a pretty good indicator that the Hutts would rather not have anyone occupying this particular orbit. She glanced at the console again.
"I've got it," Dreyf said again, without looking at her. The hint of reproach remained, but did not grow. She pressed her lips together, repressing mild—and unwarranted—irritation. Dreyf was a professional, and one who clearly knew what he was about. She did not need to do everything. "Got it," Dreyf said. "Full scan complete. We're clear."
Mara checked her navicomputer, then carefully eased the Imperial intelligence vessel out of its orbit, into a different one that had fewer Hutt warships. She watched the Chelandions, but neither of them made a move in their direction.
"Are we clear?" Dreyf asked.
There was no warning in the Force. Mara exhaled, allowing herself to relax. "I think so," she confirmed. "Let's see what we got."
The footage that Beldorion had shared with them had shown an intense, but still comparatively small scale battle. The battlezone was no longer quite so intimate, and Mara realized exactly why the pair of Chelandions were in the orbit they were in.
"They're preparing to bombard the area," Dreyf murmured. "If the battle gets any more out of hand."
Mara nodded grimly. That was exactly what the Hutts were preparing to do, and if they went through with it, it would likely mean the decimation of five square kilometers of one of the most densely populated planets in the galaxy. "What can you tell me about the droids they're fighting?"
"The computer is still counting," Dreyf admitted. "There are at least four thousand of them. They're constantly being destroyed, but they seem inexhaustible." He shook his head. "Look at this. I'm getting an estimate of their specs, and… can this be right?" He leaned forward, hunching over the console, his face pressed into the external interface. He retreated, shaking his head. "Take a look, sir."
He flinched, realizing the unintended addition. Mara just let it pass, not really wanted to address it any more than he did. She settled into the chair after he evacuated it, leaning in and settling her face into the intelligence suite's external user interface. It obediently restarted the footage, showing her the image of the ongoing battle below: Hutt mercenaries using heavier and heavier weaponry, now including some heavy long-ranged laser artillery, in an attempt to repel the droids currently encroaching on a large power station. She zoomed in, focusing on the attacking droids, calling up their specifications. The droids were slim, with red photoreceptors in place of eyes. The sense of hatred they conveyed was probably just her own biases, she knew, but it was one she couldn't shake nonetheless. They were ranked in platoons of twenty and armed with a variety of weapons, ranging from archaic vibroswords to bulky-looking blasters.
"Those are beyond antiques," muttered Dreyf in a sotto voice. "They look like they're a few thousand years old."
"That might be an exaggeration," Mara muttered. But if it was, it wasn't much of one. Those droid designs were absolutely archaic. "What did they unearth down there?"
"Something Roganda Ismaren very much wants," Dreyf replied. "Something I suspect we shouldn't let her get."
"Something that may go very wrong if the Hutts hit it from orbit." Mara said in agreement, and stared at the scan again. "I think I found where they're coming from," she said thoughtfully. She shifted the interface, intensifying the magnification on the recording, her heart dropping as she did. "Take us back to the Skate," she ordered, in the tone that every Imperial subordinate knew instinctively, in their bones, to follow.
"Yes sir," said Dreyf, and then grimaced.
It was a construction droid.
On Coruscant, the EVS-model construction droid was a common, almost unavoidable sight. Two hundred meters tall, the EVS was not just a droid, but a full planetary construction unit large enough to completely rebuild spacescrapers in a matter of days, where whole teams of smaller units would have taken months or even years. Those units had received the nickname "Death Star's Little Brother" after the New Republic had started using them, because of their sheer destructive potential.
This construction droid was not that: it was much, much older and much, much smaller. It also seemed to be not-entirely-functional. A "mere" few stories tall, the droid was tilted on one side, an entire massive main leg and much of its hull plating on that side gone. It crawled along on its remaining two legs, pulling itself laboriously over the difficult terrain and climbing over building-sized obstacles—or just consuming them to get them out of the way. A seemingly endless line of droids of all sorts hauled everything from girders to droid limbs into the construction droid's gaping maw, hurling themselves into the fiery furnace afterwards.
Out the rear of the construction droid came legion after legion of the antiquated war droids.
Luke stared at the video in awe. Around him, the two Imperials, Mara, Mirax, and Artoo all watched with him. Despite the fact that he saw no living thing, he could feel malice through the Force. Feel danger… and intent.
"Whatever it is that the Roganda Ismaren wants," said Mara flatly, "it's in there."
"That construction droid is at least a thousand years old," Dreyf reported. "I've linked into the Hutt HoloNet node and reviewed their records, and I can find several old models that are only eight or nine centuries old that are still in use, but they all appear more modern than that one."
"Why haven't the Hutts bombarded it yet?" asked Asori. Her expression was wide-eyed, and with no small amount of awe; through the Force, Luke could feel her anxiety. "If the Empire is able to build hundreds of TIE Droids now, without whatever is powering that thing, what could they do with it?"
"A bombardment would be impossible to hide," Mara said. "If the Hutts did that they'd have to admit they have a problem, which might start a panic. But they're clearly ready to bombard if they decide they have no other options."
"So what do we do?" asked Asori.
Luke and Mara's eyes met. Silently, wordlessly, they considered their options. "We have to move quickly," Mara said. "A bombardment would kill everyone in the area and might not even work."
"We don't know what we can do either," Dreyf pointed out. "We're not even sure what this artifact is, much less how to neutralize it."
"There is no guarantee explosives would be effective," Mara agreed.
"We do have plenty of explosives though," Mirax said. "And we can get more from our… local contact."
Luke glanced at the pair of Imperials. They shared a look, but mutually chose not to pry. "When the time comes to deal with the artifact, the Force will guide us," Luke said. That answer did not assuage Dreyf or Asori—their expressions both grew even more skeptical—but Luke had expected that. Their skepticism was understandable, but Luke was quite sure that he and Mara would find a solution.
It was Artoo who whistled, sounding fairly optimistic. Luke glanced at his translation unit. "You think you have a solution?" he asked.
Artoo's responding whistle was far less optimistic, with clear wariness. But he followed it with a quick series of beeps and chirps, interspersed with some derisive blatts.
"What's the droid saying?" asked Dreyf.
"Artoo has a plan," Luke replied, reviewing the translation slowly.
Dreyf's eyebrows rose in astonishment. "We're accepting plans from astromech droids?"
"How do you think I got away with half the things I did during the Rebellion?" Luke said playfully, "The galaxy works better when Artoo is in charge."
The first part of Artoo's plan involved a more thorough evaluation of the threat. Their surveillance gave them a great deal of information about the combat abilities of the droids, but Artoo—being a droid himself—wanted to know more about them. Eight hours after he had issued his initial request for additional information, Master Luke, Mistress Mara, and [DESIGNATION UNCERTAIN] Dreyf returned from an expedition down into the Old Industrial District. Each of them carried different components of a droid that had fallen in combat—they had all sustained serious explosive and energy damage.
Artoo moaned mournfully as the three humans laid out the components on the floor of the Pulsar Skate's cargo bay. Wheeling around, he extended his sensors and graspers, fumbling with the wreckage.
"What is it looking for?" Dreyf asked Master Luke.
"I think he's looking for a data port." Luke knelt down next to him, turning over the wreckage, paying special attention to the heads of the fallen droids. "They're ancient designs, much older than anything I saw even on Tatooine," he commented. "I'm not sure how compatible they're going to be with your systems."
Artoo blatted at him, spinning his head.
"If you think so," Luke said with a laugh. He wiped grime and dirt off the back of one of the battle droid's heads, exposing a data port. "Here it is."
This time, Artoo's beep was more respectful, intended to convey to his Master that he had accomplished his assigned task, if a bit slower than requested. He plugged his extender in carefully, testing multiple configurations until he found a conversion that worked.
The battered battle droid was non-functional, but it drew power from Artoo's reserves until it was capable of rebooting its main processor. Artoo waited as the droid worked its way through its programs, watching curiously. This droid was indeed an ancient battle droid design, but it was a relatively recent construction… it had been built by the construction droid on the surface, in response to a perceived threat. Artoo split his inquiry along two separate tracks, one intended to learn more about the battle droid's capabilities (when it was fully functional), and one intended to learn more about its initial construction.
The first track was extremely revealing. Full schematics were available with only some… relatively minor… circumvention of security routines, all of which were no match for Artoo's extensive slicing capabilities. Artoo sent firepower, mobility, and durability profiles directly to Mistress Mara's datapad so she could share them with his Master and the rest of their party, but he put a particular highlight on the weaknesses of the battle droid's sensor profile.
As Mara and Luke discussed the options Artoo's exploration had revealed, Artoo focused on the second track of his investigations. The construction droid that had built this battle droid was itself ancient, having been long-buried in abandoned lower-levels of Nar Shaddaa. It too had only recently been reactivated. Artoo queried for more information…
The reactivation had occurred in stages. The construction droid had been operating at a low level for a long time. Artoo had to respect the ancient droid's persistence, if nothing else. It was truly a marvel of construction, with Makers deserving of praise. But it was only in the last few days—probably in response to Roganda looking for the mysterious Force artifact, Artoo suspected—that the construction droid had fully-reactivated and begun producing its army. And the order for that reactivation had come…
Artoo queried further and decided—perhaps impetuously—to take a risk.
He triggered the battle droid's communications transceiver. The signal relayed from the dismantled battle droid to the still-active construction droid that had built it, probing it for still more information. The construction droid's response was instantaneous. Internal security programs activated, charging after Artoo's intrusion, attempting to terminate his presence. But they did not simply deactivate the construction droid's communications relay—which would have been the easiest way to kick Artoo back out—and Artoo sliced through each of their security systems with ease. Artoo was an old droid, perhaps, but he was a much more capable droid than this ancient construction, and his main processor was far more powerful. The construction droid's consternation grew to frustration and then to fury, sending binary insults over the communication to Artoo as the astromech rummaged through its memory banks, merrily stealing information.
He was almost done collecting all the information he needed. The order to return the construction droid to full operation had come from an external source. Something had responded to Roganda's arrival by activating the ancient droid, something which was still sending that droid commands. Artoo tried to track it back to the source, but the construction droid had limited ability to triangulate the communication signals, and…
That was odd.
Something was attempting to intrude into Artoo's main processor! It was insidious, infiltrating his systems and attempting to assert authority. It claimed to be Artoo's Master—though of course that was ridiculous—but there was something oddly compelling about the claim…
"Artoo?" Master Luke's voice was concerned. "Is everything all right?"
The reminder of his true Master pulled Artoo out of his dangerous stupor. He deactivated the battle droid's communications suite, making it impossible for it to send or receive messages. The construction droid, and the odd presence, both went silent.
Artoo whistled with relief, wiggling from side to side.
"What happened, Artoo?"
Artoo started his explanation.
Luke read the datapad. "He says that the construction droid is under the command of some alien presence." He frowned with consternation, giving Artoo a reproachful look. "Artoo, you know better than to talk to strange computers."
Artoo blatted at him as he disconnected from the battle droid. The battle droid's lights went dark once again after it was separated from his astromech's power source.
YOU SOUND LIKE THREEPIO, the datapad said.
"Does Artoo know where the alien presence is located?" Mara asked.
"Not for certain," Luke conveyed as he read more of Artoo's message. "But he has a general location."
"That's good," Mara said. "I've been reviewing his data on the battle droids and I think I have a plan for getting us past them. We're going to need a very fast airspeeder."
Luke grinned. "Sounds like fun. I'll go tell Mirax."
The Imperials looked at them both like they were crazy. But that was okay. Wedge used to look at Luke the same way and it hadn't taken the Corellian long to learn to trust him.
Finding an appropriate airspeeder was not too difficult. At the higher levels Nar Shaddaa was replete with wealth, and that kind of wealth often came with conspicuous purchases of luxury vehicles. Mara didn't care about the luxury—that was entirely irrelevant to her purpose—but she did care about speed, because speed was required to take advantage of the weakness that Artoo had discovered.
To avoid making themselves too conspicuous, Mirax had reached out to Beldorion and asked for a second favor. Eight hours later an airspeeder had been delivered to their hangar. Sleek and painted a brilliant red, Mirax, Liat, and Dreyf brought it into Pulsar Skate's hangar and Mara went to work.
She and Liat both had experience as mechanics—so too did Luke, but his training was more informal, while Mara and Liat had been (if briefly) professionals—and they worked on modifications. While they worked, Artoo programmed and installed the sensor jammer they would need.
Mara grunted as she wrenched at the airspeeder's engine. "Are you sure that is going to work, Artoo?"
Liat chittered something and handed her a shorter-handled hydrospanner, one she could use to get into the tight gap more effectively. Artoo's whistle was a confident one.
The astromech's plan looked good on paper, and Mara had not found any problems with his evaluation of the battle droids' sensors, but she had always preferred making the plans herself. She knew that she did it right, which had not always been her experience in collaborations with Imperial Intelligence (or even Karrde's people). But Artoo had proven himself competent more than once, so she resisted the urge to micromanage. "Good," she said instead. She slid herself out from under the airspeeder and popped to her feet. "Think that'll be fast enough?" she asked.
Liat shrugged and chittered in Sullustan.
"Good," Mara muttered. "And I agree. It should be plenty fast enough."
"Special delivery!" called Mirax. From the bottom of Pulsar Skate's ramp, a large cargo droid slowly maneuvered upwards, carrying an enormous cargo crate. Mara and Liat stepped out of the way so it could set the cargo down beside the airspeeder in the Skate's expansive hold. "Always appreciate your acquaintances with fast speeders," Mirax announced.
The heavy cargo droid set its heavy cargo down and made some deep beeps of satisfaction. It and Mirax conversed via her datapad briefly; satisfied, the droid turned back around and slowly made its way back out.
"What's in the crate?" Mara unlatched the box and flipped it open, and found herself looking at an arsenal. "I see." She reached in, examining the array of blasters and other weaponry with her experienced eye, separating the pieces they would need from those that would be unnecessary—or those that were simply of sub-par quality. "This is competitive with my arsenal on the Mettle," she commented.
"I'm sure our local contact will be pleased," Mirax said with a laugh. "He impressed Mara Jade."
"Hmph."
"I am even more impressed by your local contact," said Dreyf. "I don't suppose you'd care to share his identity?"
Mara ignored him. She felt Luke's approaching presence and glanced over as he arrived, with Asori in tow. "You know how to use a blaster, Captain?"
"I'm a Fleet officer," Rogriss said.
In Mara's experience that was not always sufficient, but she decided it was best not to point that out. Instead, she handed Rogriss one of the sidearms. Mara then took one of the heavier blaster pistols for herself and looked at Dreyf. "What are you trained for, Commander?"
Dreyf gazed into the giant crate of weaponry, his eyes lighting on one weapon in particular. On the outside, he seemed placid as ever, but through the Force Mara could feel a sudden swell of childlike excitement. "I'll take the Marauder."
The Merr-Sonn Marauder was probably the best weapon of the lot. With Triplex-lensing and galven circuits, the clearly custom piece was one Mara had avoided because she didn't like using custom work that she hadn't done herself. She removed the rifle from the crate and handed it to Dreyf. "Go make sure it works before we bring it into battle," she instructed. "And if you try to use it on us, it will end very badly for you, Commander. Clear?"
"As transparisteel," Dreyf confirmed.
That is one benefit of working with Imperials, Mara thought. When I tell them to do something, they just do it. Smugglers always want to know why they need to do something.
"Our local contact's last message noted that the mercenaries the Hutts have fighting back the droids are losing ground," Mirax cautioned. "So we should move as quickly as possible." She raised both hands defensively as they all opened their mouths to object. "And I know, I'm staying here. I'm not about to argue about it. Liat and I will stay with the Skate in case you need backup."
"Good." Mara picked out a rifle, a standard-issue Stormtrooper E-11, for her own use. "Do you have your blaster, Luke?"
Luke patted the Merr-Sonn on his hip. Attached to it was the scope that had been her gift to him. She could admit, in hindsight, that it had been meant as a courting gesture, and even more than a year later it warmed and reassured her to see him carrying it.
"I try not to go anywhere without it," he said with a friendly smile, one with overtones that Mirax might notice but that hopefully the others were oblivious to. "The lady who gave it to me would never forgive me."
She nodded firmly. "Let's move," she instructed, and the Imperials immediately stiffened in response to her command tone. Luke just smiled even more broadly, sending her his customary wave of love and reassurance before a fight.