Nal Hutta, Nar Shadaa, Wormstew Town, Headquarters of Eidolon Security
With a throbbing head, Eidolon stood up and looked around.
"Sir, finally, you're awake. We've been trying to wake you for minutes," called Harkun, assisting Eidolon to rise.
"Harkun, what's going on? Why is the alarm on, and why does my head hurt?" Eidolon snapped at his security chief, who nodded quickly.
"There has been a breakout of our prisoners. They and some of our researchers have fled with their ship," said Harkun, hoping that his quick response would save him from the consequences of these events.
"How is that possible? Our security is top-notch. Those damn Hutts. They tricked me," hissed Eidolon, recalling how the Hutts had offered to deliver Anuli in exchange for some favors. All he had to do was make it look like Anuli had managed to hack him. He hadn't thought she would succeed.
"Sir, we found your datapad next to your desk with a new message," said Harkun, handing Eidolon a datapad. Eidolon quickly activated it, and a message from a Hutt played:
"You shouldn't have crossed the Hutt Cartel. In a few hours, our men will destroy your little empire and take everything we want."
Eidolon threw the datapad against the wall, shattering it into several pieces.
"Damn it. Damn it. Red alert. I want every man ready for combat. Save any data we can on data storage. We need to leave Nar Shaddaa. Start my ship," shouted Eidolon, and he could hear his security chief audibly gulp.
"Sir, the prisoners have escaped with their ship," said Harkun, and Eidolon cursed. His plan was in ruins.
"Good. Then we'll have to steal a ship. Get the men ready. Full gear. We'll shoot our way out," said Eidolon, and Harkun ran out of the room.
When Eidolon was sure he was alone, he pulled a knife from his desk and cut his left forearm. A small chip emerged. Eidolon bandaged his forearm and cleaned the chip with a bit of alcohol. When he was sure the chip was clean, he lightly scratched his desk, revealing a small slot under the lacquer.
Eidolon inserted the chip into the slot and entered some commands into his systems. A new window opened, and he entered a twelve-digit code into the system before a new comlink connection was established.
"Code 0E77E7 Herf Usk Tril Trill Aurek. I repeat, Code 0E77E7 Herf Usk Tril Trill Aurek," said Eidolon and terminated the comlink connection. He had done his part. Now, the others were warned and would begin attacks on the Hutts. No one would mess with him and his allies. Truly no one and get away unscathed. He didn't care if he died in the process. His enemies would think twice before even considering turning against him. Like cockroaches, he would crush them.
Eidolon stood up from his desk and went to his bedroom, where he kept his combat armor. He would die with his head held high and a weapon in hand. He was sure of that.
Eagerly, he waited with his subordinates until the ship of their target took off. Initially, he contemplated confronting him on Nar Shaddaa itself and claiming the bounty, but upon witnessing how effortlessly the target dealt with Mika and his crew, he decided not to take the risk. Instead, he opted to eliminate him along with the stolen ship that his target had just taken. The ship the target used to reach the planet also had a tracking device. One could never be too careful. If they killed the target, they could also steal the ship and enhance their own loot. He opened a channel once again to his employer and waited for a response.
"What do you want?" came from the other side, and the image of an Iridonian appeared. He had red skin, and two large horns adorned his forehead. A braided strand of black hair lay on his left shoulder, with several small knives tied to it.
"Sir, excuse the interruption, but I've found him. It seems he crossed paths with the Hutts and is currently plundering Mika's cantina," he said, and the Iridonian on the other side straightened in his chair.
"So, you found him and haven't killed him yet? I hired you bounty hunters to kill him. Why am I paying you for this job if you can't manage to kill one person? Borvo will be pleased if we eliminate this scumbag for him," the Iridonian reprimanded him, and he raised his hands defensively.
"He single-handedly took down Mika and his guards. I didn't want to risk him escaping. One of my men managed to smuggle a tracking device and a small EMP bomb onto his ship. We'll locate him a few clicks away and destroy his ship," he said, hoping the Iridonian would agree.
"That sounds good. What is he looting from Mika's cantina?" asked the Iridonian, and quickly he read the information provided by his subordinate.
"Well, he took the slaves and all the spirits that Mika stored in his business," he said, reviewing the information once again.
"Then there's a change of plans. I'll pay twenty thousand for the slaves, but only if they are brought to me unharmed. So, no mutilations or other physical injuries. Your men, however, are free to enjoy themselves a bit with the female slaves," said the Iridonian, a sinister grin appearing on his face. Both of them knew that the women would find the "care" far from pleasant.
"As you command. I'll inform my men," he said, cutting off the connection to his superiors. Yes, he and his subordinates would enjoy it, and with the money, he could further expand his own small business. Perhaps, eventually, he could separate from his superiors who viewed him and his crew more as personal bounty hunters.
However, until then, he remained dependent on the will of his boss, who himself had risen to a small-time crime boss only through the death of Gele'ren. Their power base was weak, but with this person's attack on Mika, one of their competitors seemed to be weakened. He was confident that their boss would exploit this opportunity, but wise enough not to get caught in the process. The Hutts didn't like it when one of their own was attacked.
Leisurely, Harry sat in the cockpit, preparing the ship to jump into hyperspace.
"How much longer until the computer calculates the route?" Harry asked his co-pilot, Bigbull.
Bigbull, a muscular Arkanian with the distinctive white hair of his race and a gaze that conveyed superiority, replied, "Just three more minutes, and then we can leave this dump." He grumbled as he input several commands into the control panel in front of him.
Harry glanced at him briefly before focusing again on the traffic. The traffic around Nar Shaddaa was chaotic, with ships coming and going every second. Without flight control, pilots did whatever they could to navigate their ships safely through the hustle. Harry moved to the coordinates that Bigbull had defined as the departure point and slightly throttled the engines to avoid drifting too far from the point.
"Good, I've calculated the route. Without droids, it's really cumbersome," said the Arkanian, and Harry nodded. He turned the ship and was about to engage the lever to jump into hyperspace when a jolt shook the ship.
"What was that?" Harry exclaimed, noticing that some of the systems had failed.
"It looks like an EMP detonated on the left engine," said Bigbull, entering some commands into the system.
"That can't be. We guarded the ship. No one should have approached," Harry pondered aloud, slapping his forehead in frustration.
"How large are these EMP charges?" Harry asked, and Bigbull looked at him.
"Not very big. A small flight-capable droid could easily place one on the ship," said Bigbull, adding, "It would have been easy to throw the bomb onto the ship while passing by."
"Damn it. What can we do?" Harry asked, and Bigbull quickly responded.
"Well, we need to repair the engine, and we can only do that once we've landed."
A rumbling sound behind him drew Harry's attention, and several of the freed slaves entered the cockpit.
"It seems an EMP bomb was detonated on the ship. We won't be leaving Nar Shaddaa anytime soon," Harry apologized for the delay in their departure. This seemed to reassure them, but then Bigbull shouted, "Several ships approaching. There are two YT-1250 Transporters, a Mark I Bulk Transporter, and two patrol boats of the PB-950 class."
"Man the cannons, everyone else to the cargo hold. I have a hunch why they're here. Bigbull, we'll try to evade them as long as possible until everyone is in the cargo hold," Harry called out, attempting to accelerate the ship with only one engine. The ship gradually gained speed, but he knew they were far too slow to have even the slightest chance. Yet, he only needed to stall them long enough for his plan to be executed.
Nojin Tavira grinned as his plan unfolded, and the ship of his target struggled to evade their attacks. His three ships closed in on the target, landing several hits that caused coolant to spew from the enemy ship.
"Keep firing at the engines. I don't want you to destroy the ship, but a little damage won't hurt," Tavira ordered, already contemplating what he would do with the female slaves. One of Mika's former dancers had caught his eye—a very young Twi'lek with beautiful red skin and breasts that made his mouth water.
After a few more hits, it seemed the other engine had failed as well. This moment was what he had looked forward to all day. Now, he would contact the other ship and make his demands. It was always satisfying to see fear in the faces of his victims.
"This is Nojin Tavira. Surrender, and you can live. Fight, and you will be destroyed," Tavira confidently commanded as the connection was established, spotting his target sitting with another person in the cockpit of the other ship.
"We surrender. What are the terms?" the target asked, looking frightened. A grin adorned Tavira's face when he saw this.
"Our ship will dock with yours, and then everyone will peacefully come aboard ours. My boss wants to have a chat with you, and from now on, these slaves belong to me. Is that clear?" Tavira stated, making his intentions clear. Potter quickly nodded, seemingly pressing something on the control panel.
"Bigbull, take over. I'll make my escape," the target said, rushing out of the ship's cockpit.
"Idiot. The connection wasn't cut off yet. I'm coming with you," the Arkanian called, ending the connection. His ship, along with the others, approached the target's ship. However, before they could dock, an escape pod was launched.
"Destroy the escape pod. We don't want the target to flee," Tavira commanded, and his sensor operator quickly transmitted the order. All three ships turned away, firing their weapons at the small escape pod. Some shots missed, but enough hit, destroying the escape pod.
"Good. Now, let's get what we've all been looking forward to," Tavira said, and his co-pilot and others in the cockpit rejoiced at the news. They loved boarding other ships, often finding countless valuables they could sell for money, spend on women, and alcohol. Occasionally, they could even sell crew members into slavery, always testing the women beforehand.
Tavira's Mark I Bulk Transporter docked with the target's former ship. A group of men, led by Tavira himself, eagerly waited with great anticipation.
"Hutch, Dutch, you go first. If the coast is clear, the others follow. Keep the blasters on stun. We don't want to damage our merchandise," Tavira instructed, pointing to the two Niktos. Both nodded, opening the door. They had only been part of the team for a few weeks and still needed to prove themselves, which meant they often got the worst jobs.
Hutch chuckled briefly, and the door opened. He and Dutch took their weapons in hand and proceeded. The corridor of the enemy ship smelled of burnt cables, as if several cables had burned out due to overload. The path split into two directions from the airlock. Tavira gestured for Hutch to go left. Three other crew members followed him. Then, Tavira signaled for Dutch to go right, which he did. They knew that going right would lead them to the cockpit, while the left would take them to the engine room and storage areas.
Soon, they reached another intersection and secured all directions.
"All right, people, you know how it goes. Spread out. Always in pairs. One goes ahead, and the other covers. The Silver Dragons' guys will be here soon," Tavira said, walking with one of his men. Along the way, they searched the passenger cabins, quickly but found no one. Sweat slowly formed on Tavira's forehead. He already suspected where all the passengers were, and he hoped it wasn't true.
"Rondle, you've been on such a ship before, right?" Tavira asked, receiving an immediate reply over the comlink.
"Yes, I worked with a slaver who had such a ship for a while," Rondle said over the comlink.
"How many people can an escape pod designed for this ship carry?" Tavira asked, hoping he was wrong.
"It's designed for eight people, but you can save twenty people or more with it. However, the air supply will only last for a few hours," came over the comlink, and Tavira's heart sank.
"Damn it. That idiot," Tavira yelled, kicking the wall, instantly regretting it. A sharp pain shot through his foot, bringing tears to his eyes.
"Hurry up. If you haven't seen anyone in three minutes, the ship is abandoned," Tavira told all his people over the comlink, receiving quick affirmations from everyone.
They quickly searched the ship but found no one. They wanted to search the cargo hold as well, but the circuit for the opening mechanism was defective, preventing the door from opening. Although they could pocket some items, there were still many they couldn't steal in such a short time, so they returned to their ship.
In front of everyone, Tavira was more than furious. He had managed to kill the target, but the slaves were also dead. This meant trouble for him and his people. Their boss would be more than angry, and that was not good for anyone. Tavira didn't delude himself. The boss would kill him if he returned without the slaves.
"Freck, can we tow the ship through hyperspace?" Tavira asked his mechanic over the comlink, who promptly replied:
"It should work. Our hyperdrive can handle it, but we'll travel at the speed of a Class 3 hyperdrive at most."
"Good," Tavira said and returned to the cockpit of his ship. Once there, he opened a channel to all his ships, including those not involved in this action, and said, "Everyone, we're leaving, and we're taking the ship with us. Looks like there are some valuable items on the ship. Since we failed to get the slaves, we should flee before the boss of another crew tells them to hunt us. Meet at the space station. Tavira out."
Exhausted, Eidolon leaned back in his chair, reflecting on the past four hours. Right after they had become battle-ready, the first Hutte troops attacked. However, they hadn't anticipated the defense of his headquarters. Before the thugs could set foot inside, they were already under attack from dozens of automated turrets. The first ones died within seconds. When the troops managed to overcome the defense, they found that he and his people had vanished.
He hadn't opted for a direct confrontation against an overwhelmingly superior enemy. No, Eidolon was much smarter and more paranoid than the Huttes could imagine. Through secret tunnels, he and his crew had escaped, attacking several Hutte establishments to both weaken them and steal small ships to leave the planet. This not only sowed chaos but brought him closer to his next move. He would kill a few more Huttes. His stolen ship was currently heading towards the Hutte headquarters. Loaded with several explosive devices, it promised a satisfying explosion. Fifty more men were involved in this operation, planned years in advance. However, he had never expected to carry it out in stolen ships but rather in vessels specially modified for this mission.
To his regret, he had to make do with what he had stolen. However, he had some aces up his sleeve, pitting his enemies against each other. On the terminals in his base were hundreds of forged communication logs, illustrating that he had allied with several small criminal syndicates to collectively go against the Huttes. The Hutte people would discover that he tried to destroy these logs but failed. In other words, it appeared as though he had allied with them against the Huttes and had sent an attack order for several small operations just before his escape.
He didn't progress further in his thoughts as they arrived at the headquarters of the Hutte cartel.
"Open the hatch," Eidolon shouted, shouldering the rocket launcher he had prepared for this step. The hatch opened, and he fired the first shot at the building. A small hole appeared in the facade, but it wasn't large enough for someone to step through. Eidolon wasn't discouraged by this. He fired more rockets at the building, enlarging the hole so their small ship could fly through. Several cartel soldiers had already gathered inside, but the ship's laser cannons swept them away.
They quickly disembarked and positioned themselves at the exits of the room. They knew they had little time before more soldiers arrived, but they had to do it. The cartel should pay for what they had done to him. A load droid brought the bombs from the ship, and Eidolon activated the ignition. He gestured to his men to retreat, and they did. It was not a minute too soon as several soldiers stormed into the room. The ship turned around and quickly flew out of the room. The soldiers ran towards the bomb, but they were too late. When the ship was far enough away, Eidolon activated the ignition and blasted a huge hole in the building. Shortly after, more explosions followed, placed by others of his men flying by. Individually, they would have hardly damaged the building, but together they destabilized the entire structure. A loud creaking and crashing could be heard as the entire building tilted to the side and shortly thereafter collapsed like a house of cards.
In the process, the building damaged dozens of neighboring structures, but Eidolon didn't care. His ship had already set course for their rendezvous point. A Hutte he had just killed owned a GR-45 medium transport, and he wanted that ship for his escape. He could steal another ship, but according to his information, the GR-45 stored many valuable items that could help him finance his fight against the Huttes.
Eidolon didn't delude himself. Compared to the Huttes, he didn't have the means to resist them for long. His goal was to fight them until they could come to an agreement—a settlement where he wouldn't become a slave or die. One thing was clear to him, though. The little bitch Mako would die, even if he had to turn the galaxy upside down to achieve it.
Engrossed in a profound state of meditation, Master Giiett found himself within the confines of his comfortable CloakShape fighter, diligently seeking to unravel the source of the Force disturbance that had resonated with his senses. In the starfighter behind him, his Padawan, Bultar Swan, assumed control of their flight. Having just embarked on their journey to Coruscant following a successful mission on Ryloth, Master Giiett detected a subtle disturbance in the Force.
The disturbance, though nearly imperceptible, gave Giiett pause; there was an inexplicable quality that demanded contemplation. In recent years, clarity in his Force connections had become increasingly elusive. However, this time felt different—as if a minuscule breach had been made in the impervious veil that obscured the Force. This enigmatic shroud hindered Giiett and his fellow Jedi from delving deeper into the Force to uncover its profound mysteries.
Numerous Jedi had attempted in vain to pierce this veil, but none emerged unscathed. All had succumbed to the seduction of the dark side, forsaking the path of the light. This perilous trend compelled the Council to reassess the training of young Padawans. While Giiett resisted, he recognized the imperative nature of this measure. Caution was paramount, allowing only the most seasoned Jedi to explore the depths of the Force.
Methodically, Master Giiett extended his consciousness, tracing the residual effects of the Force disturbance. Faint ripples persisted, and over the past few hours, he had managed to pinpoint its origin. Opening his eyes, he addressed his Padawan, "I've identified our new destination. Let me assume control."
"Yes, Master Giiett. Where are we headed?" inquired Swan, her curiosity thinly veiled.
The response was clear and straightforward, "I've triangulated the disturbance's origin through our hyperspace jumps. We're headed to Hutt Space. This won't be a leisurely journey. Prepare yourself, and entrust the navigation to me."
In excruciating pain, Darth Plagueis lay in his bed, battling to suppress the dark side of the Force within him. Only through considerable effort could he prevent his presence in the Force from being detected by the Jedi. It would be utterly catastrophic if they could uncover his secret. No one must learn that he was a Sith; years of planning would be obliterated, and vengeance against the Jedi would be pushed into the distant future.
"Master Damask, my sensors indicate that your nervous system is overloaded. Should I initiate emergency measures immediately?" inquired 11-4D as it approached Darth Plagueis. The droid analyzed its master and then selected the appropriate analgesic to alleviate Plagueis's pain while ensuring his clarity of thought.
"Take me to my Bacta tank and commence the necessary procedures," hissed Plagueis, sensing the pain reliever gradually numbing his nervous system. His physical sensations were mildly dulled, and control over his body reduced, yet his mind continued to function flawlessly—a quality far more crucial than dominion over his physical form. 11-4D was loyal enough to protect his body, and no one would dare to disturb the security systems of his estate.
"Of course, Master," responded the droid, lifting the old Sith Lord to carry him to the Bacta tank in his private sickroom. Plagueis's body had been weakened by the injuries inflicted during the Maladian assassin's attempt on his life. The cybernetics implanted by 11-4D sustained his existence, but he never fully recovered. To his apprentice, Darth Plagueis continued to project an image of complete control, yet increasingly, he had to rely on his droids to sustain his life.
11-4D opened the Bacta tank, connecting its breathing tubes to Plagueis's respirator mask. Immediately, Plagueis found it easier to breathe. The air supplied by the tank had an elevated oxygen content, facilitating his respiration. The tank was sealed, and 11-4D issued the command to fill it with Bacta.
"According to my calculations, you must spend the next two weeks in the tank. Your nervous system has suffered significant damage. I recommend refraining from exertion and avoiding anything that might hinder your healing. The Bacta seems to be struggling to repair your body," explained 11-4D, inputting commands into the terminal that controlled the Bacta tank. Additional pain medication was injected, aiding Plagueis in recovering from the ordeal.
While he heard his droid's advice, the Sith Lord could not heed it. Something had damaged the veil of the dark side of the Force. As he had penetrated deep within it at the time, the damage had adversely affected his body. For his health, it would be better to abstain from connecting with the veil for a few days. However, as a Sith Lord, he had a duty to perform. He needed to repair the veil, and he could only do that by being connected to it. Although his apprentice might be knowledgeable about the dark side of the Force, he still did not comprehend how to undertake such an act. Only through decades of studying the dark side could one begin to fathom the true complexity of the veil.
Filled with impatience, Mako nervously drummed her fingers on the dashboard, eagerly awaiting Harry's arrival in his stolen ship. She had arrived at the agreed-upon rendezvous point about three hours ago, gathering there with Anuli and the other allies. However, there was still no sign of Harry. It was driving Mako almost to the point of despair. Harry had set the meeting point, yet he hadn't shown up. But that wasn't what Mako feared the most.
Her greatest concern revolved around the possibility that Harry had been captured by the Hutts or Eidolon and might have betrayed their position. Out here in space, they were like sitting ducks. A group of five to six medium-sized ships, led by another CR70 Corvette, could easily obliterate their three vessels. That was something Mako desperately wanted to avoid.
Suddenly, Anuli sat down beside Mako and asked, "How's the waiting going?"
Mako sighed in frustration and replied, "It's driving me insane. If he doesn't show up in an hour, he's been caught by someone. He could at least send a message. But no, he just reported that they had taken off, and that was over five hours ago. Even with a Class 5 hyperdrive, they should have been here by now."
Anuli gently took Mako's head in his hands and carefully removed her mask, which immediately loosened. Beneath it revealed the face of a young human woman, with black hair and brown eyes. A cybernetic implant adorned her left temple, giving her otherwise flawless face a peculiar look.
"Lie down; I'll take over now. You've probably been awake for more than a day, haven't you?" Anuli asked, earning a smile from Mako.
"That could be. Since I found out that Eidolon had captured you, I haven't closed my eyes," explained Mako, suppressing a yawn. She stood up and handed over the cockpit to Anuli. He settled into the seat she had occupied before, monitoring the available sensor data. They had positioned themselves away from all hyperspace routes, and any ship approaching would do so consciously. So far, no ship had appeared on the sensors, and there was no message from Harry on the subspace receiver.
Slowly dozing off in his seat, Anuli was awakened only by a loud beep. He looked up in surprise, his eyes widening. He had slept for six hours, and before them, a ship had emerged from hyperspace. It wasn't Mika's former ship. Directly in front of them was a Mark I Bulk Transporter.
Hello, everyone. Here comes the next chapter. A few days later than I intended, but it's still December. I hope this chapter can clarify some confusions. Borvo, the drug dealer whose subordinates held Harry captive on Rori, placed a bounty on Harry's head. Borvo has placed a bounty on the owner of the ship and a finder's fee for the ship. This was mentioned in the second chapter. Gele'ren is the Hutt whom Harry killed with the grenade. He wanted to place a bounty on Harry's head but died before doing so. I could have also had a subordinate of Gele'ren place a bounty on Harry's head. He wasn't very discreet when he visited Gele'ren in his office. The guards saw him going into Gele'ren's office, and the bartender also saw that Harry was the last person to meet Gele'ren. I hope I could clarify that. If anyone wants to become my beta reader, the position is still open. Now that Harry is dead, the story can be considered finished. Have a nice Advent.