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Phase 16: Revenant

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Part 4

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Bridge

Republic Frigate Spirit of Fire

Nal Hutta

The Hutt's home world didn't look like much. Even thousands of years later it still was the same dirty greenish-brown ball. If anything, the pollution down there had made the place even worse toxic death-trap. In contrast, Nal Shaddaa, the Hutt's moon turned into one giant city, glowed in the night like a smaller copy of Coruscant. My mind didn't make that comparison for the hell of it. Nal Hutta was one of the greatest hives of scum and villainy in the galaxy, directly comparable with the Senate of Coruscant and the Dromund Kaas I remembered.

"Looks can be deceptive, I guess." Rex whispered. "From here it resembled Coruscant at night, just smaller."

I looked back through the windows. There were thousands of tiny dots streaming to and from the glowing ball we were approaching. Everything, from freighters to small craft carrying just couple of people. At a curious glance, it was not so different from any of the other city-planet in the galaxy.

"If only it was so." Then coming here might have been safer but not necessary more productive. "Get your game faces on, people. Remember, if anyone asks, we're Mandalorian Bounty Hunters who salvaged themselves a Republic Frigate from an abandoned battlefield."

The Spirit of Fire was the most banged up but still operational frigate we had in the fleet. During our last stop to redistribute fuel and ammunition between the ships, I had some engineers make her look in even worse condition. Meanwhile, a group of bored armourers worked to transform some armour suits in genuinely looking Mandalorian kit, complete with rocket packs re-purposed from our ARC Commando stocks.

While the rest of the fleet hid in dark space not too far from here, really as close as we dared to park it, I was about to visit a few people on Nal Hutta. There were multiple reasons for this little jaunt. First, I was going to recover all produced chips that were the heart of the Silencer, along with their production line and the people building them. Second, I we were going to play being Mandalorians and gather what intelligence we could about any safe way to get to Mandalore from Hutt Space. One of the groups I was going to meet for that was the still operational Cult I kinda build myself when I was working on Nal Shaddaa for Baras and Imperial intelligence. It was fascinating to learn that even thousands of years ago those people were still up and running in one form or another, however I didn't get many details from my Black Ops people. The latter were in fact the last reason why I was here and the contacts we were going to meet. Incidentally, HK should be with them. I was sure learning what he was up to since Geonosis was going to be fascinating.

Our pilot expertly slid the frigate in one of the streams of ships heading towards the surface and we soon got into a parking orbit.

"You know the drill. Send out feelers for people available to fix the Spirit, however don't get any engineers on board to examine the damage first-hand. The risk is not worth it even if we're leaving whole platoon as a security.

Rex nodded at the group of 501st legionaries ready to accompany us. The few survivors of the original cadre we had with the fleet were either still recovering after Mundi's attempt on my life or too busy training new additions to what was becoming my new personal legion to gallivate with us. Strictly speaking, Rex should be overseeing them, however after the close call we all had, he was unwilling to risk me getting myself killed.

He actually made a good point – I had a brand new bog standard prosthetic hand as a proof that I apparently forgot how to take care of myself.

We piled up into an assault shuttle – appropriately banged up and painted so no one would mistake it for being in active Republic service. The people doing the painting had all too much fun defacing the shuttle, though I couldn't argue with the results. Now it looked tough, rugged and meant. The naked women painted on the flanks – ridding missiles of all things further reinforced the impression we were going for.

Descending through the atmosphere, brought back familiar sensations. Nar Shaddaa felt sticky through the Force. The whole moon was one large hub of the Dark Side. There had been too much conflict, suffering and unrestrained emotions borne by all the vices known and unknown to man being indulged into for millennia to be any other way. To a Sith, the place felt rather pleasant and simply being here once upon a time was enough to grant a power boost, not dissimilar to being on Korriban or Dromund Kaas.

Our first stop was one of the many industrial districts of Nal Shaddaa. We landed at a large loading platform meant to bring in containers with raw materials and load crates with production ready for shipping out. Officially, we were going to play as potential security contractors going to meet a potential client. Said clients were a group of my people working closely with the latest iteration of the cultists supposed to be worshipping me or something and wasn't that a weird thought...

A group of four heavy armoured and armed Mandalorians was a typical enough sight in Hutt Space that no one gave us a second look walking towards the small electronics factory producing my chips. It was one of the business financing my cult. At the entrance we were met by a pair of men wearing Mandalorian styled armour and fully enclosed helmets hiding their features. Incidentally, they were the same height and build as the three Clones trailing closely behind me.

I gave the guards the codewords confirming our identity by sneaking them in our introduction as per the cover story. One could never be properly paranoid. Perhaps if I had been acting more like the spy I had to be a few decades ago rather like a Sith Lord ready to assume his position on the Dark Council, which meant with more forethought and sneakiness, I might not have ended in as deep a mess as I found myself now. On the other hand, that really wasn't in my nature even though I scrapped by just well enough not to get myself killed in the past. The truth was that at heart I was a Sith Warrior. Even when I knew very well that not acting as one tended to get me better results, doing so went contrary to my nature and more often than not I did slip up so to speak.

I couldn't keep a melancholic smile from my face. Being here, playing spy games, it brought back memories of a somewhat simple time. I shook myself from that train of thoughts when one of the guards led us inside into a small office where the supervisor of this operation, a Sergeant Vance, waited for us. He gave us one look after his subordinate made a hand gesture and activated additional scramblers, this ensuring we could speak safely.

"General?" The deep cover NCO asked tentatively.

I removed my helmet and despite actually looking closer to my true age than before I was still clearly recognizable. "Any rumours of my demise are premature, Sergeant."

"That's good." He said, then thought about something and winced. "That however, will make the loonies idolizing you insufferable. They already believe you came back from the dead once for them, sir."

"I see..." I really didn't. What did I get myself into this time? "Business first, Sergeant Vance. I want all chips ready to be shipped to the fleet along with the production line and the specialist overseeing it. We'll be setting shop back in Republic space. The time for keeping the Silencer under wraps is over."

"That would take some doing, sir. The managers and workers are all part of your... cult. They might be willing to move if you speak to them, otherwise we'll have to do it the hard way."

"Let's try to avoid that. Speaking with them is one of the reasons I'm here. Now, for the other. Intelligence and getting our hands on as many supplies as we could. We have some weapons, armour and vehicles to trade for them if necessary."

"It will be, General. After Corellia, the worth of the Credit in these parts fell through. Nowadays, Republic credits are practically worthless outside any territory we actually control."

"That makes things rather more complicated. We'll see what deal we can arrange on the Hutt Exchange. Now for Intelligence – we need anything you've learned about Separatists movements and intentions. More importantly, are there any safe routes to Mandalore and Republic space that don't lead deep through Separatist territory or Randon?"

"Nothing substantial, though we've heard rumours of Mandalorians and various assorted smugglers slipping through to bring weapon shipments."

"I'll need locations where such people congregate so we can ask a few questions. Any trace of HK?"

Vance scowled at hearing the name. "He's here all right."

Well, so far so good. "Do tell, what he's been up to."

"Besides trouble? No idea really, just suspicions. The bloody tin-can..." He shook his head in exasperation.

"Then I'll have to debrief him personally. We'll be picking him up before we leave. Now, tell me about this cult of mine and when can you arrange a meeting?"

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Part 5

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Cult of the Screaming Blade hideout

Nar Shaddaa

Hundreds of people, men, women and children, gathered in a refurbished warehouse. The only thing distinguishing it from countless of thousands just like it all over the moon were prominent large symbols of a stylized blade painted so it would appear it emitted sound. That whole district was under the control of the Shining Blade, an organization that all outsiders believed to be merely one of the oldest gangs on Nar Shaddaa. The truth of course was very different. No self respecting Blade would step so low to call themselves a mere ganger for they were so much more!

Inside, on a podium made of stacked metal container stood a hooded figure whose cloak hid its features completely. It waited, still as a statue, until the warehouse finished filling up and once the number of people passed an invisible threshold known only to them, it spoke.

"Rejoice!" A powerful voice thundered over the crowd. "Your faith has not been in vain! For more than three thousand years you fought in his name, you faced all challenges the Hutts threw in your way and yet, you are still here, stronger than ever!"

"Blades! Blades! Blades!" Hundreds of throats began to chant.

"The time of waiting soon comes to an end! At Bothawui we all saw how our Lord punishes treason! When he arrives here, he will show us all how he rewards the unflinching loyalty of his people!"

The warehouse shook with cheers.

"E chu ta!" A new, rough voice shouted loud enough to cut through the noise. "Your karking Sith's dead! The fool burned himself at Bothawui." A tall Trandosian growled in nearly perfect if heavily accented Basic. "Your allegiance has not been forgotten."

A large group of armed and armoured thugs surrounded the alien and they all had their weapons at the ready. A small group of Blades were beside them making it obvious how they got inside without someone giving a warning.

"Meatbags. Foolish meatbags!" The cloaked figure on the stage laughed. "You dare betray our Lord after you saw what his wrath means at Bothawui?!"

"We ain't scared of no dead men!" One of the traitorous Blades exclaimed.

"The Hutts pay very well besides!" Another added.

"And we'll keep you bunch alive." The Trandosian laughed. "Will you come quietly, lie the worms you are or will you make this fun?"

"What's your call, sir?" Rex asked.

I opened my eyes and examined the newcomers from our vantage position on a catwalk near the ceiling. The feeling of the crowd, while it couldn't be compared to my few public addresses on Coruscant, was still something to behold. That sense of unbound power by itself, it was like a drug that by itself explained why so many Sith went for conquest and public recognition. For decades, such a source of energy had been more than I could dream to wield by myself, at least until I fully grew into my power and knowledge.

"Loyalty, especially such long lasting one, it should always be rewarded. Anything less would be the kind of treachery I would never stand for." Unless it suited me best from the available alternatives, yet being renowned as a straight and honest shooter most of the time only meant that when you had to betray someone, doing it would be that much more effective and devastating.

I used the energy drowning the warehouse and vaulted over the security rail, moulding that power to redirect inertia and land safely.

"Bold words!" My own voice thundered. "Death and I, we are old friends."

Suddenly, everyone became deathly quiet. The Trandosian narrowed his slitted eyes at me and his clawed fingers tightened around the assault cannon in his hands.

"Who are you, impostor?! The Sith is gone! We all saw him die!"

"Many saw me die on Dromund Kaas. Then above Korriban and now at Bothawui, yet here I am! My people, I promised you I will return for you, even from death if I had to!" I addressed the crowd who began to quietly chant, though most of them were fighting shock and elations. "I am here to deliver you from this wretched place! To offer you a new home and brighter future! I offer you to become Mandalorians, to walk and fight beside me, to grasp your destiny and forge you as you see fit!" I layered my words with the Force, using the emotional energy generated by the cultists to influence them.

"For the Blade! For Mandalore! For a real future!" It seemed everyone picked up their own warcry.

I smiled at the Hutt thugs. "As for you..." It was a simple thing to redirect and mould the power drenching the place. It was right there, wanting to be claimed.

The thugs froze, bound by chains they couldn't perceive, much less break. They did struggle and gave it a fair effort, for all the good it did. The crowd generated more and more energy as their excitement grew and I promptly channelled it into something useful, not just the binding but to help restore me further after my ordeal at Bothawui. It was imperfect at best – healing had never been something I had affinity towards, much less the more complicated facets of Sith Alchemy. Still, it was more than enough to revitalize me and make me fell a few decades younger.

"What should we do with you, I wonder?" I turned to face my people. "What say you? Those slugs came here like the vultures they are, hoping to capitalize on a non-existent weakness! The likes of them had preyed on you, my people, for untold centuries!"

The feeling of the crowd turned darer, dangerous. The tone of the chanting shifted too – it became angry and hungry for blood.

"Pray tell, what message should we send to the Hutts?" I looked at the Trandosian who glared defiantly at us.

"You wouldn't dare, human! Even the Sith Empire stepped lightly around the Hutts!"

"We merely tolerated them because they were of little consequence!" I lied to his face. While taking them down was perfectly feasible even when the Empire was at its weakest, the resources expended in such an campaign would have left us wide open for the Jedi and their Republic to wipe us out. "Do you masters remember me? What I did to those of their kind who crossed me?"

It was obvious that big and ugly over there hadn't done his homework. Too bad for him.

"Let me demonstrate!" I focused on the Trandosian and used the Force to pick him up until he floated in the air in full view of everyone in the building. I raised my hands to more easily control my power while still keeping the other Hutt gangsters stuck in place and used my telekinesis to grip his torso harder than I pulled in multiple directions.

The alien had a moment to give a reptilian scream of agony before I tore him apart in a shower of gore. My cultists watched transfixed for long moments, before generations of resentment and hatred came to the surface into an overwhelming wave of anger and blood-lust. I simply pointed at the frozen gangsters and the crowd descended upon them like a pack of ravenous beasts. They put clubs, vibro-blades and empty hands to a good use and tore the thugs to pieces.

While the cultists were busy enjoying their bloody revel, I slipped to the platform where HK-117 stood still cloaked and enjoyed the show.

"You have some explaining to do." I whispered to the droid.

"I merely kept them going in the right direction. It was necessary after some Republic intelligence types came here to meddle."

"This I have to hear." I frowned. One thing I didn't give much thought, primary because there was very little I could to about it ever since Kamino, was what the treacherous Republic intelligence operatives would do. I had to assume that they knew too much about my clandestine operations – it couldn't be helped, I needed their help in the first place to built up my network in anything resembling reasonable time. I did have standing orders for my people to keep a close eye on them and hide as much as possible, however I never had any illusions that they would be too successful. My agents were trained soldiers, not spies and I simply lacked the time to change that.

Really, if I was to be honest with myself, the fact that the factory producing the chips for the Silencer was still intact was a pleasant surprise and it was even better that the facility actually making the weapons and mounting them on ships was still in one piece as of one week ago.

"Later however, in private." I returned my full attention to the crowd and fed upon the energy generated by their emotions.

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Part 6

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Cult of the Screaming Blade safe house

Nar Shaddaa

With the excitement over, the gathering disbanded with the promise to soon receive instructions for where and when the fleet was going to pick up everyone willing to make themselves scarce. To no surprise at all, almost everyone jumped at the possibility of getting off Nar Shaddaa if not for themselves then for their families. Where to put them, well that was relatively simple in the long run – there would be a proper place in Mandalorian space if not Mandalore itself. If we won the war. If we lost, then it would be all academic. Perhaps one of the possible bolt-holes scouted by my Black Ops unit.

Speaking about those reprobates...

HK finally led us to his current bolt hole – a nondescript flat that resembled an enlarged metal coffin, one among many in a mostly abandoned building. I didn't need to ask how he found the place – it wouldn't surprise me at all if he either terrorized or outright killed the other residents until everyone thought that leaving was the better part of valour. This wasn't a civilized place where there was safety in obscurity.

"Master, I'm glad to report success in my primary assignments!" My enterprising assassin droid declared once we were alone and all available jamming devices were on.

"Do tell. I don't recall ordering you to become a Prophet of my own faith." I gave him the stink eye.

The assassin droid ignored it and cheerfully continued with his report. "The meatbags were dragging their feet and showing insufficient motivation when compared with their predecessors. I considered disposing off them and replacing them in bulk, however somewhat useful meatbags are so hard to come by, especially in places like this." I was sure HK would be sneering if he could. "According to past experience, those cultists were most productive and reliable when their faith was strongest so I had to ensure that was the case." He declared proudly.

"That translated with you becoming a Prophet how exactly?" I asked with sick fascination.

"Why, I used your actions as an inspiration, Master!" HK began laying it a bit thick.

"This I got to hear." I made a shooing motion so he would go on. "Vaping those Hutt aligned ships at Ryloth, becoming Mandalore, purging Crimson by burning a whole world becoming Moon's Bane! You gave me a lot to work with Master, and that was before Bothawui and coming back from the death, again!" HK was gleeful by this point. "The cult meatbags were practically eating from my hand by that point! I had to even keep them from starting a crusade in your name!"

Wait, what? "A crusade?"

"The cultists remember your promise to deliver them from slavery, make the Hutts pay and finally eradicate slavery from the face of the galaxy." HK nodded as if it was obvious.

I dimly recalled making such promises at a time when actually going on with anything like it was a pipe dream. Oh, dealing with slavery and slavers alike was on my to do list, after fixing the Empire and I spent decades on that project. Now, with the galaxy gone to hell? Actually doing something that amounted to better than a nice gesture was out of the question. I had my people and the Republic to look after and another war to prepare for once this one was over.

"Well, getting them out of here is a good start." I said. "Beginning open warfare against the Hutts is out of the question at this point, however perhaps a reminder what will happen if they cross us and openly throw their lot with the Confederacy might be in order. "Who is the Hutt who engineered that little mess today?"

"Greh'mora, one of the smaller crime lords in this part of Nal Hutta." HK promptly supplied.

"We might have to visit the worm."

"I would enjoy that, Master! The look of shock and surprise when a Hutt figures out that their power means nothing when faced with a Sith is always something to treasure!" HK's glee intensified.

Some days that droid enjoyed his work too damn much. I know, that was rich coming from a Sith.

"Work first, pleasure later. Status of my underhanded operations in the region."

"Partially compromised. While some of the components are custom built in separate locations at Nar Shaddaa or commissioned on nearby industrial worlds, all the final work happens on a Republic mobile dock that regularly jumps to a new location in dark space to avoid detection. The primary vulnerability there is fuel – it takes a lot of hypermatter to haul that thing and at the best of times the defence squadron is limited. Twice so far ONI vessels attempted intercept. The first one was a cruiser using guile, however we got the transmission about the Coup just in time to avoid action."

"That indicates that the coup went off earlier than planned. One would think that they would have wanted to hit the Silencer production line simultaneously or even better, sneak in legitimately, steal the relevant date and sabotage it before the fireworks started." I kept that particular surprise as compartmentalized and off the books as possible and hopefully any enemy action was yet unable to reproduce that particular weapon's system. "What about the second attempt?"

"It was a two Venators accompanied by various smaller ONI vessels. They almost got the dry dock a week ago. Since then it's been jumping more frequently, thus burning through more fuel. The commander also retains one Silencer equipped Venators as a part of its escort instead of sending it to reinforce Mandalore."

Well, that would come in useful.

"Arrange a meeting. We'll be picking it up when hauling ass for friendly space. This region is becoming too hot." I decided.

"Will do, Master."

The bad news was that other projects by necessity were known by the various Republic Intelligence agencies prior to the coup. Hell, that was something I should have considered earlier, however it wasn't like I could afford to dispatch a warning. By the time I got my body rebuilt, it would have been too late for places like Yavin if ONI decided to strike there. That was a setback, unpleasant one at that. On the other hand, with the Kenobis supposedly running the Republic, I might not need to act in the shadows any longer. Or at least in a much lesser extend. Time would tell.

"Continue." I instructed HK.

"Attempts to recover caches of useful technology and informations continue though at a slower pace. A significant number of personnel are tied up by fighting at Mandalore, gathering intelligence or arranging smuggling runs with all kinds of supplies. We've burnt through a great deal of available funds and with the Hyper net crippled we lost access to the funds you have stashed in the Core."

That was a pity but couldn't be helped at all until the GAR managed to fight its way to restoring the lines of communication.

"Was anything new of note recovered?"

"Negative. The last treasure trove was the Basilisk schematics. Intelligence wise, we've built a decent network in Nar Shaddaa in particular and in Hutt space in general. That was one point where the cultist meatbags were very useful as already established front. After you became Mandalore, we've been able to approach a number of your new meatbags and some of them were of assistance, especially among the mercenary and bounty hunter communities. Those meatbags in particular need to keep their ears open." HK nodded in something that might have been respect if I didn't know better. Instead it was acknowledgement that those people weren't as useless as most other organics.

"Even a hit of smuggler's routes that could bring a fleet from Hutt Space to the general vicinity of Mandalore without grinding our way through Separatist space?"

In theory, that could be done by a series of hyper jumps through dark space until we bypassed the enemy held systems and could reach the relevant hyperlanes. In practice, doing so would take months, tons of fuel and time we didn't have. During a shooting war doing something like that meant that such a force was as good as destroyed for the side that deployed it in such a manner and almost always it was better to have it at the frontlines.

That was outside well established and ancient regions like the Core, where there were enough powerful sensors and recon stations everywhere that such a deep strike was usually unlikely to succeed though depending on the current stellar geometry, occasionally opportunities for nasty deep strikes did occur.

"Only rumours, even more that we had to deal with back in the day. Nothing substantial, Master. You know, smugglers, especially when those meatbags get drunk, tend to tell tall tales."

"I'm aware." Nothing new there. Imperial Intelligence and their Republic counterparts had whole sections dedicated to going through and investigating rumours for the rare diamond among all the boasts, lies and mis-information.

"Now give me a summary of any and all important intelligence gathered, then tell me about this Greh'mora the Hutt."