Location: Royal's Fortune Casino on Rebuilt Nar Shaddaa.
As Lt Trilth Rogan peered through his electrobinoculars at the back entrance to the casino, he fought the urge to pump his fist in the air like a bolo-ball player that had just tied the game.
He was a total professional, so there was no real chance he would, of course, but Trilith's "catch of the day" is what a GAI (Galactic Alliance Intelligence) officer lived for.
Finding scum and villainy on Nar Shadda was nothing to write home about. For untold Millennia it had been known galaxy wide as a place of all fun and no rules. Then the Yuuzhan Vong had come; that's when the fun stopped. That's when the planet's entire ecumenopolis was destroyed. But here he was 20 years later, surrounded by a never ending sea of neon signs, permacrete towers, and land speeders. It was all different and yet all the same. And just like the Nar Shadda of antiquity, this one had became a watering hole for the Galaxy's most influential criminals, arms dealers, slavers, and Mercenaries.
It was a gullible person indeed, that believed that crime was something that "just happened". Crime was a business! As such, it required a great deal of planning and consulting. Most of the time, little meetings would happen here and there; at bars, on public transportation, during sports matches, etc...
But every so often, the scope of the deal was so vast that it required the meeting of all the family heads. If GAI could eavesdrop on such a meeting; the intel gained would be worth 5 years of regular surveillance in the field. This was one of those evenings!
Through his binocs, he had been observing the cream of the crop along with their escorts, enter through the back door of the Royal's Fortune Casino. First to catch his eye was Gardulla Besadii the elder. The cagey old worm seemed to be rumoured dead more often then alive, but her she was. And if she chose to be "Alive" this year it meant she was leading the Hutt's.
Next was the Verpine Hive Mother from Nickel One.
After her came General Kratebor, head of the Cavrilhu Pirates.
The next arrival was someone that intelligence had yet to identify. A Falleen that possessed a dangerous beauty. Her identity may have been in question, but her affiliations were not. She was definitely Black Sun.
Then came GET's (Galactic Exploitation Technology) flavour of the week. After Senator VoxHayly's murder, the now underground organization, had been in confusion and disarray, with chief after chief only lasting a week or two before they were off'd.
Representatives from Rodia, and Trandosha were next.
Following them, was an entourage that was given a wide berth wherever they went: Mandos
THE MANDO. Boba Fett!
He had to get eyes on that meeting! He picked up a small chromium attaché and opened it, revealing row after row of insect surveillance probs. With the Binocs in his other hand, he reacquired his target Boba Fett.
"Hello Promotion" was the last words he ever said before Mirta Gev came out of the darkness behind him, and introduced her beskar dagger to his unprotected throat. As he lay there, feeling his life drain away, he felt blessed that his last view was that of a strikingly beautiful, and proudly pregnant warrior standing over him (he always had a thing for expectant mothers). The look on her face could only be described as complete gratification at satisfying her insatiable bloodlust.
In a disgustingly opulent back room, deep inside the disgustingly opulent Casino, the "who's who" of arms dealers, mercenaries, and organized crime met. The finest beverages, lavish meals and "exotic" servers were the staple of such meetings, and this time was no exception.
Unsurprisingly, it was Gardulla the Hutt that spoke first; it was, after all, her invitation that brought everyone to this rendezvous.Though most spoke Huttese, a protocol droid translated her words.
"The great Gardulla welcomes you all and hopes that a solution to our recent trials will be discovered."
Trials indeed! The floodgates opened up. 15 minute s of woe and tragedy. The Jedi and The Republic (in the form of the GA) were together once again. Slaves were free and were now experimenting with self governing. The galaxy had entered a new era. An era of peace. To the group gathered, peace was an Economic Death Star. Their respective trades thrived on instability and conflict. Why would a planet refit and update their planetary defences in a time of peace? Who would hire mercenaries when people had no enemies?
How could pirates, and crime lords ply their trade with the Jedi once again infesting the galaxy?
Boba just sat there; a statue of apathy carved out of a stolen childhood. He gave up listening to all their grievances and complaints about half a second after they started.
They were so predictable. All their whining could be summed up by the phrase: " War was good for business." For Mandalorians... For him, it was... more complicated than that. Yes, Mandalore 's biggest export was still war, but it really wasn't about the creds. It's was a national identity. Long term peace was, in effect, cultural genocide, and as such, the architects of such a peace were guilty of an atrocity worthy of death.
This is what Boba's mind told him. His heart... That was a different matter. He had no heart, and that was the problem. His heart lay dead on the sands of Geonosis, next to two graves. Boba was all about the next. The next mission, the next bounty, the next enemy.
But through his helmet's visor, there was no enemy to be seen. He had had a long career that would have made his dad proud. He had the miraculous opportunity to make things right with his ex wife and granddaughter. In fact, his first great grandchild was on the way; Mirta was 5 months pregnant. Pregnant, and still very deadly.
He had also, led Mandalore through some of it's darkest times and brought his people out the other side. And 6 months ago, thanks to Calrissian, he was able to return the soles of his boots to the soil of Mandalore.
For Boba personally, there was no more "nexts". To his utter disbelief, peace actually sounded...
But his People. They had given him so much, and had put their trust in him. With peace looming on the horizon, the Madalorians could be facing their darkest night yet, and as long as those boots of his were still on his feet, he would be there for them, and would do whatever it took.
"I say, we take 'em out! All of them!" The Trandosian's voice cut through Boba's musings like a lightsaber.
"Who's them?" Boba said without skipping a pulse.
"The Leaders! Dorvan! Vitor Reige! Even The Queen Mother for force sake!"
"It's not them! It's the Karking Jedi. They're back on Coruscant and have free reign to go anywhere they please! Even the Empire has invited them into their territory!" Said the green beauty that spoke for Black Sun.
"Wipe out the whole Jedi? I'd like to see you pull off that trick. It took Palapitine decades of planning to pull that off. You think we can cook up a plan in an hour?" Someone else across the table shot back.
"You got a better Idea?" She asked in return
"I do actually. Instead of wiping out the Jedi, why don't we let the Sith loose."
At that suggestion, the air in the room froze. And everyone looked at each other nervously. Then Gardulla started to speak. The droid translating for her:
"Her Greatness, admires the boldness of your plan, but believes the Sith would not be happy with one piece of the action, but would end up taking the whole chandrilan pie." This observation was met by agreeing nods around the table.
Then it was Boba's turn. "As I reckon" he paused for just a few heartbeats. The effect was enough to fully capture all the rooms attention. Then he finished: "One man started this mess, so taking him out should do the trick."
It just slipped out of his mouth so easy, yet once it was out there, he felt a strange nagging feeling.
"Is that what guilt feels like" he asked himself.
To everyone else said: "Kill Skywalker."
His whole life, Fett had been the epitome of professional. Other peoples problem's weren't his.
This attitude served him well over the decades. But was it possible that he had a limit? Well, yes! He never dealt with Slavers, and he never handled kids. That was off limits. But could he be so blinded by professionalism, that he could extinguish the galaxy's best hope for peace?
No. Hence the feeling he was experiencing. But he would do it anyways. He would stand by his people and let his helmet shield his true feelings from others, as he always did.
Through the droid's translation, Gardulla spoke: "The great and most powerful Gardulla says... Oh my!" The droid said with shock while looking back at her. She then bellowed somthing at him in Huttese. The droid seemed to have gotten the message, because he continued his duties without further consternation.
"The great and most powerful Gardulla says, I once owned the sire of this puny grub! Him and his Mother were my slaves while he was yet an infant. If I would have given into to my cravings at the time to have the child roasted and served, the galaxy would have been a much different place."
One thing was for sure, no matter what was discussed here today, the Hutt would not be beaten when it came to vileness and cruelty.
"Forget it!" said the Rodian in their midst. "Luke Skywalker is too powerful to defeat. And he sees the future."
"The future he may see! But too powerful? Maybe not!"
Said General Kratebor. After the last galactic civil war, some separatist officers (particularly Corellian officers) couldn't stomach coming back under the GA family's roof. Most of them resigned, but some still had a major chip on their shoulder.
General Lyze Kratebor was one of those. He continued: "Has everyone heard about that Sriluur tanker heist a few days back?"
The question was answered by silent nods around the table.
"Oh! That was the Cavrilhu Pirates? You must have durasteel pair." The falleen female noted in seductive purr.
The general sent her a wink from across the table and continued: "The whole thing was a scam! Well... Maube not the whole thing. The poison was real enough. And those planetary defenders; those were real! But we payed off the Hauler's crew to put on that little show!"
Everyone shared glances with each other.
The Rodian voiced what everyone was thinking: "You faked the Heist? Are your Barvy?"
The General smiled. He had spent the last couple years implanting his group with his militaristic philosophy. They didn't just roam around, causing trouble on a whim. Things where planned out. Strategies where developed. Logistics where calculated.
When it came to the wild card that Skywalker had thrown into the mix, General Kratebor wanted to see what he was dealing with.
"Consider it an elaborate reconnoitre"
He produced a data card in his hand and inserted it into one of the data readers that was built into the table. He used the controls on the arm rest of his chair to activate the large video display mounted behind him. The display showed the pirates chasing the freighter right into the atmosphere of a unrecognizable planet. Then the view zoomed in to... None other than Luke Skywalker. Everyone watched Luke's impressive display of power in containing the crumbling tower of poison.
Someone murmured: "We get it! We cant beat him!"
With an ever widening grin, the General replied: "Did you see that?" He used his controls to rewind playback. "There! Right there!" He said while pointing at the figures surrounding Luke.
Boba was the first to get it: "They're covering him."
"Now, why would he need his friends covering his back if he was invincible?" He asked playfully "Keep watching!"
He then fast forwarded the recording to the point where Luke and his trio of followers boarded the Jade Shadow. The video switched to infrared imaging of the interior of the ship. Inside they could see the blazing Silhouette of Luke collapse to the deck plate and his companions rushing to his side. The revelation left all speechless...
Indeed! Luke was still a mere mortal.