Hutt Campaign II

The Hyperlane Sieges

Niem surprised Darth Gladiolus. Twelve days after their successful ambush and capture of seven slaver ships, he delivered seven cruisers, including three with interdiction technology, to her secret rendezvous at the Godsheart, a pulsar system of religious importance to the Hutts. She thought it a fine place as any to establish her local base of operations. She would eventually move on to a proper system with planets and moons and connections to galactic commerce and politics. But for now, she would attempt to remain content with the seven vessels seized from the slavers, along with almost enough people to crew all seven. Over half of those freed desired to return to their prior lives. Most had been sent on their way, but a number had been enslaved long before being placed on the seven captured cruisers. Gladiolus could not permit them to return to slavery, regardless of how her decision might affect perception of her.

Still, she appreciated Niem's swift effort as her seven new cruisers entered the system and headed for where Gladiolus commandeered space to suit her purposes. The crews of her new ships, all unnamed at present, had just left their day shifts, sending a skeleton crew to their posts.

"Master Jedi, should I bring the fleet to combat alert?" asked a scarred Zeltron sitting at a console near her. Blue-haired and pink-skinned, the man could excrete lovely pheromones, though he took care to restrain himself. His people were heavily desired in slave markets due to their general abilities, though his homeworld of Zeltros was rather safe in the Inner Rim. "You said that any ships entering the system should be flagged."

"I did," Gladiolus confirmed. She did not even twitch at being called a Jedi. It was annoying, how accustomed she had become to the false title. But it was necessary. "However, those ships are allies, not enemies. They will be vital toward the next phase of our operation against the Hutts."

"Allies? What can they do?"

"I requested my pirate ally to find interdictor vessels for this fleet. They will help us yank slave convoys from their routes and seize them, just as I did with the ships you and the rest were aboard." Gladiolus smiled at the Zeltron. "You did well, thinking to bring the fleet up to combat alert with the sudden arrival of foreign ships. But since these are allies, you can stand down." Her gaze wandered back to the viewport, to the three new vessels for her fledgling fleet. "They should have known better than to jump in without alerting me."

"Oh. Of course, Master Jedi."

She nodded to the Zeltron before turning from the viewport. Soon, Niem's gifted ships would reach her fleet. She would board each gifted cruiser and speak with their captain. She would ensure their loyalty. Betrayal could ruin her efforts.

And once she could trust the seven new captains of her growing fleet, Darth Gladiolus would move forward with her plot to destroy the Hutts and their slave operations.

Gladiolus stepped onto the bridge of the third interdictor cruiser, the seventh and last of the gifted ships, and paused. A green-skinned Twi'lek turned to face her, a wide grin adorning his face. She then blinked, for she recognized the man. He had been the father of the family she saved on Ord Mantell. He had seen her not as Jedi Whae Rynn, but as Darth Gladiolus. He had witnessed her wield a red lightsaber, possess yellow eyes, and openly bear her marks upon her face.

"You should not be here," she said before he could speak. "You have a family—"

"Who is grateful for all you have done for us, Knight Rynn," the Twi'lek said proudly. "You look kinder compared to when you saved my family on Ord Mantell."

She nodded absently. "I needed to mask my identity," said Gladiolus, grasping the first thought that slithered into her mind. "Taking on the image of a monster made my task on Ord Mantell… simpler."

The Twi'lek accepted her lie because, as she sensed, he wished to. It was easier to accept than believe she had duped and deceived all under her command. Gladiolus wondered how he recognized her—and then she spotted Landren, loitering against an unmanned console. She caught his gaze until he glanced away, lips thinned. She sensed his disquiet; he had not realized she made no effort to mask her appearance as Darth Gladiolus when she rescued the Twi'lek family from slavers on Ord Mantell. He—or Niem, more likely—must have heard the man's story, realized just who had been the figure with the crimson lightsaber, and then failed to consider the risk of bringing those Twi'leks into her presence.

And yet, the man's presence could be used in her favor. He was evidence that her plots and plans against slavers would eventually extend beyond Hutt Space. Those who remained following her gathering of those freed by her actions had feared her attention remained purely upon Hutt Space. But with someone rescued from slavers on a Republic world, they would have greater cause to believe in her cause—and thus, in her.

"Still," continued Gladiolus, aware every set of eyes on the bridge was focused upon her. "I would have thought you'd remain with your family after what happened on Ord Mantell. That world, despite its underbelly, is meant to be in Republic space."

"True," the Twi'lek said, "and my wife was less than pleased with my choice. But you are a Jedi truly fighting for justice against agents of evil. I would be betraying everything that happened on Ord Mantell if I did not come join you out here."

"And as the captain of an interdictor cruiser," Gladiolus commented. "I did not realize I had found a man of such potential."

"I once captained a freighter that ran a circuit through the Core and Inner Rim, stopping at nearly every world of note. I managed to earn for my family a trip to Ord Mantell, a world said to resemble Corellia from ancient times when it was more independent of Coruscant and the Republic." He sighed and muttered, "Had I known the truth…"

"So your trip was a front for slavers." Gladiolus sneered. "How grotesque. Still, you did escape that terrible fate."

"Thanks to you, Master Jedi." He then stepped forward and leaned in close. "Why did you say you were not a Jedi then?"

"As I said," Gladiolus whispered, well aware everyone tried to eavesdrop on the private conversation, "it was to protect the Order. I had not intended to fight them as I did. They… forced my hand."

"And you realized that slavers exist even within Republic Space."

Gladiolus nodded. "It took time before I realized something had to be done. The Council will censor me for stepping outside of the mandate they gave me when I came out to the Outer Rim. But by seeking an end of slavery, I serve the will of the Force." Her face nearly scrunched at the lies she told. "Through the Force, all living things are connected. To allow pain and suffering to continue is to betray its will. Something the Jedi Order has done too much of for some time, now."

The Twi'lek man nodded. "Many would agree with you, Knight Rynn. Perhaps that will help you recruit people and ships."

She smiled. "If you have any ideas for recruitment, do not fear to speak up. I will happily listen to any advice you have."

"I will consider it, though my wife may have better ideas." He then rubbed the top of his head in a fashion that looked awkward to Gladiolus. The awkwardness grew when he avoided touching his lekku, those strange head-tails that emerged from the back of his skull. "She has insisted to come along, and my children threw their support behind her."

"So are they all here with the fleet?" asked Gladiolus, annoyed she needed to influence more than merely one Twi'lek.

"Not yet. My eldest is old enough to travel on her own safely, even if I fear after what happened. She has gone to Ryloth, hoping to gather all sympathetic to your cause. My wife and our other children are busy recruiting any mercenaries willing to put a cause over a quick payday." He then grimaced slightly, as though reliving a hundred arguments at once. "Or ones whose debts have built up enough they would be better off ending a few past employers."

Gladiolus hummed thoughtfully. She approved of the Twi'lek woman's actions, though she hoped there would not be a need to rescue the eldest child of the first family she rescued from slavery. Then again, she understood the need to purge debts as a motivating factor. Captain Monrail, along with several other officers accepted from the surrendering crews, had fallen into her hands thanks to their need to clear their debts. Killing Hutts would ease the process of cleansing their debts rather than continuing to work for those vile slugs.

"Then inform your wife that I appreciate the effort. Should anything happen to her or your children, I will ensure their retrieval—and if necessary, punish those who persecute her."

"Thank you," the Twi'lek man said, almost successfully masking his discomfort. "They'll appreciate your willingness to provide aid no matter what."

"I'd hope so," Gladiolus said, trying to emulate how a Jedi would utter those words. Her encounter with the fool Jedi that chased her from the Wheel to Ziost had not lasted long enough for her to grasp the other Force-sensitive woman's nature and attitude. Then again, banal pleasantries could easily smooth over any trouble. "Let me know when I can expect her to join us. I'd like to greet her personally."

"You honor us."

Gladiolus nodded, uncertain how to respond without sacrificing her Jedi mask. Still, she granted the Twi'lek some parting words before crossing the bridge to where Landren stood. He watched her calmly, unafraid of her. He had mentioned in passing that he briefly encountered the dead Jedi back on Ziost, but he had said little beyond attempting to threaten the woman with a blaster. Gladiolus had giggled, thinking of her spacer pilot holding up a Jedi with a blaster. That would have been no threat to either a Jedi or a Sith.

"You're surprised," he said as introduction. "I thought you would've noticed his presence when you came aboard, if not earlier."

"I was distracted by meetings with the other captains. I focused on each as I spoke with them, as appropriate."

And to Gladiolus's benefit, it was not a lie. The other captains impressed her little, but they would serve their duties as required. Thanks to the power of battle meditation, Gladiolus could sweep away the irrational, the fearful, the ignorant thoughts plaguing the minds of those fighting in her service and ensure they all worked to further her crusade. She hoped the Twi'lek man would be as compliant as the other captains throughout her makeshift fleet. They had no dedicated warships yet, but between her new cruisers and the refurbished slaver ships, they had the makings of a formidable armada.

Or so she told herself. They had yet to face true combat, though the hour would come soon. She held out a hand to Landren and he passed over a chip. "This has information on the slaver activities throughout Hutt Space. There's separate files for the northern reaches, the routes closest to Nal Hutta, and the south. I'd recommend you clear from the paths directly toward Nal Hutta for now, but you'll need to step near them eventually."

"So north, south, and west," said Gladiolus, looking at the chip mindfully.

"Just those three."

Her gaze returned to the spacer. "And not the east?"

"Anyone heading for Kessel comes through Hutt Space, regardless of affiliation. The slaves mining spice there all come through Hutt ports or are owned by the same Hutts that have cornered the spice market."

Gladiolus stepped closer to the spacer and murmured, "Tell me more of this spice."

"Depends on the variation. There's a dozen strains floating about."

The Sith Lord nearly rolled her eyes. "Then speak about the most dangerous variant when it comes to my operations and whatever they mine on Kessel."

Landren grimaced. "That variant happens to be mined on Kessel." He proceeded to inform her about glitterstim. It granted a temporary set of telepathic abilities to users, along with a pleasurable enough high that many thought the alleged powers were false. Landren, having never possessed the wealth for more than a few grams of the stuff, had never used glitterstim and had never even had the chance to witness it be used.

"I've used some other variants of spice in the past," he continued as though embarrassed by the truth, "but I managed to cut off my reliance on them years ago. I needed too many credits too regularly to support the habit."

Gladiolus nodded. She had poked through navigation computers concerning systems surrounding Hutt Space that might be of interest to her. While Kessel had been high on her list to begin, it had fallen to the bottom due to the presence of the Maw, a tightly packed network of black holes that made approach to the spice-mining world difficult. As it stood, she would turn a blind eye to Kessel. Given its reliance on Hutt Space, Kessel would fall in line once the Hutts were dealt with.

Otherwise, she would pay the world a personal, unforgettable visit.

"If we ever gain the resources, I'd like to place a small fleet along the hyperspace route between Kessel and Hutt Space. If we control that hyperlane route, it'll ease our breaking the Hutts."

"I'll keep that in mind," Landren said, unable to mask his dubious feelings. "I doubt it'd work."

"We could charge a tariff on anyone entering Hutt Space from that direction," Gladiolus suggested. She had watched Senate meetings during her time in the Godsheart's system. Tariffs along key hyperspace routes had caused enough trouble whispers abounded that the Neimoidian Trade Federation or one of their compatriots in the galactic economy might make a heavy-handed move to force that particular issue their way in the Senate. Gladiolus sensed the hand of her fellow Siths in the matter. Given Sidious would remain a senator unless something drastic occurred on Naboo, she already knew who was busy pulling Trade Federation strings.

"So you'll just adopt a mistake being made by the Republic?"

"Would it be me making the mistake if the ships taking tariffs for entry into Hutt Space were marked with Hutt sigils? Falsify some transponder codes, adopt some pretty Hutt art and signs, and we can have half the Outer Rim thinking the Hutt cartels have become so greedy they'll take every last credit, chip, and bit of kyber crystal they can acquire."

Landren whistled softly. "I doubt you'll have the resources to accomplish that and not be able to seize Nar Shaddaa—"

"When have I ever made that overpopulated moon my end goal for this region?" asked Gladiolus. She sensed the glamour over her face waning as her passions bubbled and broiled. She paused, breathed deeply, and strengthened her control. She would soon slip away from her people and meditate. It pained her to wear the face of a forgotten woman, but her markings and eyes had been masked long enough that she could not reveal them until she tore away the false mask of Jedi. "No, no. Landren. You must understand: I mean to strike against Nal Hutta."

"…and do what?"

Gladiolus grinned wickedly. The fear she sensed in Landren bloomed into a quaking terror. "On my homeworld, I come from a nation that once had an empire great enough that the sun never set upon it."

Landren breathed in deeply. "What… What madness are you…?"

"I shall set a thousand suns on Nal Hutta." Gladiolus only sensed Landren's flinch. She was too invested in her final plan for the Hutts to turn back now. Her dedication to that aim was almost all-consuming. "They will rue the day the first of their kind emerged from the wretched swamps of their world. The galaxy shall quake once I finish them."

And without another word, she swept from Landren and off the interdictor bridge.

Landren watched the bridge doors hiss close as Darth Gladiolus, dressed in the brown of her Jedi disguise, swept away to meditate. He breathed slowly, seeking to push aside the troubled feelings that always arose after dealing with her mercurial moods. She was always her worst when consumed by whatever madness Sith Lords suffered. For a heartbeat, he wished she were the Jedi she claimed to be. But then she would be a passive bystander, content to follow the whims of an ivory tower on Coruscant. Her will, potent enough to reshape the galaxy, would have been crushed and molded into a Jedi's absence.

"You are troubled," said the Twi'lek captain as he crossed his bridge. Landren glanced at the man. He had been surprised to stumble upon one of the Twi'leks Gladiolus saved when she crushed the slaver ring on Ord Mantell. "Is it because of the Jedi?"

"It is," Landren said. He sighed and rubbed his face. "She has spent too much time in the Outer Rim. She has lost sight of what she is supposed to be as a Jedi—"

"I do not think she is truly a Jedi," the Twi'lek said softly. He stepped close enough that they could easily whisper. "I have heard descriptions of her fighting recently. It sounds much different compared to what I witnessed on Ord Mantell."

"Oh? What's changed?"

"Her lightsaber, for one. She had a crimson weapon then, not a yellow one. Also, there has been no use of lightning. She was free in her use of that awesome power. She slew many with bursts of indigo bolts."

Landren breathed out heavily. He had feared the possibility the Twi'lek would know too much after Gladiolus's reaction to his presence. The spacer glanced around the bridge, searching for signs of eavesdropping. Most bridge officers glanced away whenever his gaze drifted past them. Landren suspected they did not want him to realize they possessed an interest in what their two superiors were saying.

"You're right about her being different," said Landren, turning back to the Twi'lek captain, "but you cannot tell anyone. This is part of her plot to affect the galaxy as a whole."

"So her aims extend beyond Hutt Space?"

"Unfortunately. I fear the entire galaxy will be left changed by her actions."

The Twi'lek man nodded. "I expected as much." He offered a hand to Landren. "We spoke briefly before I came here, though I do not believe I introduced myself. My name is Hemmen."

"Landren."

They shook. And while it was unsaid between them, they both knew that they would be forever tied by their support of Darth Gladiolus.

Six ships loitered in real space along a well-used hyperlane. Darth Gladiolus kneeled near the viewport on her present flagship, christened as HMS Avenger before departing the Godsheart system. It possessed the largest bridge of the seven vessels stolen from the slaver fleet ambushed along another route. Two interdictor cruisers had been deployed, though only one would activate their gravity generators at a time. She believed it unnecessary to deploy both at the same time, even if that could elevator the odds further in their favor. Though if the enemy had more ships than Niem's intelligence suggested, she would deploy both—or withdraw with whatever she could claim.

Gladiolus blinked as she sensed a shadow through the Force. She turned to the near comm officer and said, "Contact Hemmen. Let him know the time has come."

The comm officer nodded and then transmitted Gladiolus's command. She turned to stare out the viewport once more. Two cruisers moved forward, approaching the location where their planning projections said slaver fleet should tumble out of hyperspace, taken aback by the sudden reversion to real space. Their goal was simple: cut off the enemy fleet from attempting to turn about and return to where they had departed from. Gladiolus recognized she had lucked out during her prior ambush. Had the slaver captains been more sensible, they would have turned and fled with their cargo before she could board their first vessel. Instead, they tried to duke it out with numbers in their favor—and failed.

Four minutes after Gladiolus gave the command for Hemmen to move forward with an escort, a slaver convoy tumbled out of hyperspace. She counted an even dozen ships, one more than Niem reported. Gladiolus frowned, though the numbers were manageable. She had seized seven with only three cruisers. Having half the numbers would not prevent her victory.

She sunk into her battle meditation. The crews of her six ships embraced her power; they knew how the Force could sway a battle. Few understood its power, but rumor of how her powers swayed the prior battle convinced her enough to accept the power. The crew of Myrna, one of Niem's cruisers borrowed for this venture, was the quickest to embrace the touch of battle meditation. They followed Hemmen's interdictor, HMS Ryloth, remaining close to provide support while preparing the boarding shuttles that would secure the slaver ships.

"Master Jedi!" shouted an officer. Gladiolus's brows twitched not from the name, but from the fact the officer spoke. "We have a problem!"

"And what problem would that be?" asked Gladiolus as she extended her battle meditation to the enemy fleet. She waited until she touched every mind before she started applying her influence. Crews and soldiers would weaken, while the slaves would be emboldened. They would imagine others in their position breaking free and winning that freedom.

"Three Shad'ruu-class war barges are present among the enemy fleet."

So they brought warships with them. How quaint. Do they truly think that is enough to stop me? Two dozen might have been enough to turn the tides against me.

"Anything else you wish to inform me of?" Gladiolus asked, almost glancing at the speaking officer.

"…one of the war barges is transmitting a code provided by Captain Niem, Master Jedi. There a saboteur aboard."

Gladiolus blinked. She knew nothing of saboteurs among the clan fleets the Hutts must possess. She had learned nothing of a centralized fleet to support their space as a whole. While she remained grateful for that oversight, she suspected the clans willing to work together might leverage their forces and seek to force a single, crucial encounter.

She grinned wide, toothy and unbecoming of a Jedi. With her interdictors, she could yank whatever ships she wanted out of hyperspace. She could gather her forces and peel apart the strength of the Hutts piece by piece. But to achieve that, she needed to know where those fleets would be, and how to draw them apart. A person on the inside would be the natural fit for that role.

"Inform the saboteur they are to preserve their life and position. Otherwise, they are to follow whatever commands they receive from their superiors aboard whichever war barge they're aboard. Their presence among the enemy is more valuable than any other kind of sabotage they might engage in."

"Master Jedi, are you certain?"

"Are you questioning my wisdom?" asked Gladiolus as she peered over her shoulder at the officer in question. "Their utility is better served undercover than exposing themselves. Understood?"

The officer whispered, "Of course, Master Jedi," before returning to their console.

Gladiolus breathed out slowly, turning her attention back to the unfolding conflict. She drew deep from her connection to the Force, working to sway minds the way she wished. The enemy's will weakened while the will of her allies grew. Those bound for slave markets grew impatient. Daring. Dangerous. One slaver ship, then two, shuddered as prisoners began breaking out of their cells. Attempts to pacify them miraculously failed as Gladiolus swayed hearts and minds alike.

All the while, her fleet kept the enemy pinned and incapable of withdrawing. The war barges devoured damage and thus suffered destruction. Or so was the fate of two. The third, where her saboteur had been positioned, surrendered. Gladiolus felt fury at first, then relief when she realized that the saboteur had not been responsible—and had somehow slipped away in the confusion of surrender. Where they would go remained a mystery, for the interdiction fields would not be dropped until every ship present was surrendered to Gladiolus and her Jedi mask as Knight Rynn.

It only took seven hours to destroy two ships and capture the other ten. Three ships required towing with tractor beams, but soon the victorious and the defeated alike jumped to the Godsheart system, where the fates of all would, by one fashion or another, be determined.

Ten days later, two fleets departed the Godsheart system simultaneously. One, comprised of a Shad'ruu-class war barge, ten former slave ships, two volunteer service cruisers, and two interdictor cruisers, jumped straight to the Circumtore system. There, they were to gather intelligence about which of the two hyperlanes into that system would be more valuable to blockade and then begin the process of disrupting trade into Hutt Space from the southwest. The other fleet, comprised of Niem's three ships—Gladiolus remained pleasantly surprised the man dared leave his ships at her command—the Dearg Due, six former slave ships, and the remaining three volunteer ships, the Ryloth among them, headed for Keldoonie. Gladiolus traveled with the smaller fleet, for she suspected the first batch of slavers they would intercept would be Trandoshans.

Though slavery was illegal in Republic space, the local worlds of Kashyyyk and Trandosha had long fought each other over that very issue. From what Gladiolus had gathered, the lizard men of Trandosha had a history of preying upon the Wookiees of Kashyyyk, a race of large monkey men. What had once been a prey-predator relationship had evolved as a result of the galactic slave trade. Given their strength and tenacity, many desired Wookie slaves. And given the predator nature of the Trandoshans, they often accepted bounties for Wookiee slaves.

Thus, she could trust them to be slave traders. After a quick study of the astronavigation charts for the parts of the Mid Rim that touched Hutt Space and what records of Trandoshan passage Niem gathered, Gladiolus decided on Keldoonie as where she would wait for them to arrive in Hutt Space. Once they continued, she would have the rest of her fleet intercept them along the Ootmian Pabol.

And with that, she would destroy every Trandoshan she could and free their slaves, Wookiees or not.

And should another slaver fleet pass through before she could expect Trandoshans, then Gladiolus would give her fleet approval for practice. The more they gathered, the stronger they could become. Already their attrition rate for former slaves seeking to vanish instead of fight was forty percent of those freed. Too high, by her reckoning, but a Jedi could not coerce the former slaves to fight. Not as a Sith could.

Gladiolus spent the ten-hour transit from the Godsheart system to Keldoonie in meditation, secluded on the Dearg Due with only Landren for potential company. She had learned, if slowly, to wean herself off of sleep, food, and water. The Force could not completely substitute for them, but it could provide her with an extra wellspring of power should she be forced to go for a time without them. The idea to use the Force so had come from a former slave who had once witnessed a Jedi emerge from the wilderness of their homeworld, somewhat starved but a lot more hale than they should be after six days in a barren land with only water and inedible plants for sustenance. Impressed by the tale, she pursued that power for her own use.

I doubt I'll ever need to rely on it, but I cannot rule out that I will never require it. The future cannot be predicted, no matter what nonsense other Jedi or Sith like to believe. The future must be made through will and strength. It is a product of choice, not happenstance.

She sensed the moment her shuttle reverted to real space. Gladiolus joined Landren in the cockpit. He sipped from a large, burnished mug of black liquid he called "caff". While it looked like coffee, it smelled worse than anything brewed on Earth. The smell was somewhere between seared soil and charcoal ash. How he stomached the foul brew remained a mystery.

"No one else has dropped out of hyperspace with us," Landren said.

"They shouldn't. They're to await word from us before Hemmen activates his interdiction field."

"What if they get someone coming into Keldoonie? You aim to catch slavers, not merchants."

"Perhaps we can strike up a deal in such a case," Gladiolus said, amused by the prospect of building economic power through threats and implied violence. "There must be war profiteers spread throughout the galaxy. A few would happily back us in the hopes they can swarm all over Hutt Space, seeking to grasp every last shred of profit they can."

"I doubt they'd take kindly to your plan to abolish the slave trade, Master Jedi."

She sniffed. "Oh, I would not meet with them as Knight Rynn. I would go before them while posing as an… interested third party. Perhaps I'll finally use 'Lady Gladiolus' as a falsehood. Keep the markings but cover my eyes with a glamour. They'd do business with that woman, yes?"

"If they'd be willing to cross a Hutt to begin with, I doubt you being a woman would faze them."

With that simple admission, Landren explained the difficulty she would face with the galactic mercantile class: who would dare cross a Hutt? She might have already set herself on that course, even if that was merely a byproduct of their heavy involvement in the galactic slave trade. If she were to secure the galaxy as she desired, they needed to be brought to heel. Whatever experience they had with Sith in the past would not work with her. She was a new breed of Sith, one who understood all should have the chance to strive for power and victory. What purpose was there in exalting the breaking of chains if she left millions to wallow in slavery?

"I will find them," Gladiolus eventually said. Landren glanced back at her with furrowed brows. "As you have suggested, few are willing to cross at Hutt. But that is the present. Have you thought about the future? Perhaps today nobody will. But what about in a few days? In a few weeks? Why, I should have the Hutts dealt with by year's end."

Admittedly, Gladiolus did not know when the year's end, by her homeworld's reckoning, would come about. While there was a standard time in space, it did not correspond with time as measured on Earth. Given the communication blackout she existed under, she knew not what transpired on her homeworld. Perhaps Darth Myrddryn, in her madness to claim power as many Sith of the past had, had already destroyed and tarnished the legacy of Darth Gladiolus. Perhaps she had a student of her own, powerful enough that the two together could challenge and destroy the one who established their order on Earth.

"So you claim," replied Landren. Gladiolus scowled at his lack of faith. "But the Hutts have ruled their sector of Known Space for nearly as long as there's been Jedi, Gladiolus. Do not think because you have plots and plans aplenty that you can overthrow them."

"You do not believe me."

He sighed. "I'm only trying to warn you away from arrogance and delusion. I do think if anyone could destroy the Hutts, it would be you. But there's a difference between that belief in you and in your capacity to achieve your ends."

Gladiolus clicked her tongue. "How annoying you can be, Landren." She paused and, before he could respond, smiled. "But that is why I keep you. I cannot permit my delusions to take control of me. Else, I would be as bad as the Jedi."

That startled a laugh from the spacer. "So you say, Lord Gladiolus." He smacked his cheeks and his business attitude returned. "Let me comm the nearest station and get us landing permits. Once we're on the ground, you can begin your hunt—"

"No need," said Gladiolus. She pointed toward a group of boxy ships. There was a large cruiser surrounded by several smaller vessels. A few appeared to be gunships, while the rest were snubfighters or bombers with hyperdrive motivators. "Them. There. They are Trandoshan. I can tell."

"The Force?"

She sniffed. "As though I would know by any other fashion, Landren. Do keep up."

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Just wanted to double check, your lordship." He turned to the console on his right, where the message to alert their fleet sat, ready to be fired through the HoloNet. "Now, should I…"

"Hold on for now," commanded Gladiolus. "We wait until they make their jump from Keldoonie deeper into Hutt Space. They might be on their way out, preparing to capture more slaves for the Hutts to gorge themselves upon."

Landren made a disgusted noise. "Please, never suggest the Hutts gorging themselves on anyone or anything ever again. I do not think I could live with the images your words inspire." He then glared at her. "Understand?"

"I'll do my best to grant you even more disturbed images to flash through your mind." Gladiolus then stretched and rose to her feet. "Keep an eye on the Trandoshans. If they move to jump into Hutt Space…"

"Yes, yes," Landren muttered. "I'll inform you if there's to be a battle."

The Sith Lord grinned viciously as she retreated to an empty hold where she could meditate, regardless if there was to be a battle or not.

Twenty-seven minutes passed before the Trandoshan fleet departed their orbit and jumped away from Keldoonie, heading deeper into Hutt Space. Landren sent a prerecorded holocomm message as assigned, alerting Gladiolus's fleet of the incoming fleet. He followed the Trandoshans, for only Darth Gladiolus could sway the tide of battle. If left to fight the foe alone, the former slaves and Niem's people would turn and flee the Trandoshans once broken.

And Landren knew they would be broken.

He glanced back as the Dearg Due traveled through hyperspace. Gladiolus remained in her meditation. He grimaced. He had expected her to enter the cockpit following the jump to lightspeed. Instead, she remained behind; likely preparing the battle meditation that had made her efforts successful so far. They would get yanked out once they reached the area under interdiction field. From there, he would leave everything to Gladiolus. This was her crusade, her plan.

He was only along for the ride.

Gladiolus remained in meditation when the Dearg Due lurched out of hyperspace, thanks to an interdiction field. She immediately sunk into battle meditation. Her mind washed over twelve friendly cruisers and seventeen enemy ships. As she recognized while in the Keldoonie system, there was only one enemy cruiser. But it was surrounded by a plethora of gunboats, bombers, snubfighters, and war barges with a trained crew, hungry for battle and blood.

She thrust her mind first into those of her allies. The Sith Lord filled them with courage and daring, helping them work more coherently and competently than they otherwise would. They responded with urgency and joy, relieved their 'Jedi' leader had arrived to lead them to victory.

Once content with the state of her fleet, Darth Gladiolus turned her attention to the Trandoshans. As expected, all enslaved they possessed were aboard the cruiser. She would board their vessel and free the prisoners. Their minds reacted to her power oddly. Where with humans and many other races she could sap their courage and focus, these were predators. For them, aggression and focus were life and death. They would not abandon them, despite her strength in the Force.

And so the Sith Lord turned to a more universal trait: greed. She urged on their need to hunt and kill, making them foolishly desperate. Some noticed, but many became so enthralled by the new bloodlust she released in them that they cared not when they accidentally hit a comrade. That was merely a price of their hunt.

A comm crackled. "The Trandoshans are shooting each other," Landren reported. "I assume this is your doing?"

"Indeed, it is," Gladiolus replied, proud of her accomplishment. "Their minds are different enough from humans and those like us that I must find another means to influence them."

"That doesn't explain why they're killing each other."

Gladiolus rolled her eyes behind the lids. "I have fueled their need to hunt, the bloodlust that lies within their primitive, reptilian minds. Their greed for prizes and trophies fuels that bloodlust, and so they lose sight of what they should be doing in favor of whatever will satisfy their ego."

Landren sighed. "That makes sense. Should I…?"

"No. Let the fleet continue fighting as they are. Their performance has been satisfactory."

"Understood." Landren paused. She sensed his uncertainty, the doubt swirling within him as he considered what else needed to be said. "…and what about your boarding action? When should I prepare for that?"

"When I command you, Landren, and only then. I will tell you precisely when."

"Understood. Landren out."

Gladiolus smiled slightly as the comm fell silent. She sunk back into her battle meditation, taking care to prod and sway the minds of her Trandoshan foes whenever they appeared to realize their losses were increasingly self-inflicted. The longer they fought each other as much as they fought her people, the fewer losses she would take.

And eventually, they will make a mistake. I will be able to hammer them apart and rescue all taken by them in Republic space for myself. Now, beasts. Show me your weakness. Show me your failure!

The moment Gladiolus desired came late in the battle. The Trandoshans had been worn down to their cruiser and two gunships that held to a tight defensive orbit. Three of Gladiolus's cruisers had been forced to withdraw, though they remained afloat. They could not jump to lightspeed until the fighting ended. That nobody had been yanked into their fighting proved fortunate, though Gladiolus sensed their fortune would not last long. Someone would be yanked out if they fought for too long, and she had no guarantees they would side with her or merely remain out of the fighting. Given the slaver interests in Hutt Space, it was more probable they would aid the Trandoshan cruiser in escaping the interdiction field and jump to hyperspace than side with Gladiolus and her crusade.

She clicked her comm thrice. A light would flash in the cockpit, alerting Landren that she wanted him to board the cruiser.

Gladiolus waited until she sensed the Dearg Due approach the cruiser before she rose from her meditation spot. She kept part of her mind focused on the battle meditation; soon the last defenders of the Trandoshan cruiser would fall. Once that transpired, her fleet would hold back as she boarded and slaughtered the slaver foe unless summoned. While she had to maintain her Jedi mask, the nature of the foe would make it easier to feed her blood thirst without creating trouble. Compared to the reptilian foe, it was a quaint thing. But every foe that insulted her simple morals of power and freedom deserved death. And to leave their corpses in her wake satisfied her ego as a Sith Lord.

Passion. Strength. Power. Victory. Freedom. Those were the cornerstones of the Sith way. To lose sight of one was to lose sight of all. And if Darth Gladiolus permitted herself to stumble, then she would doom herself to destruction.

Gladiolus stepped up to the boarding ramp. Dressed in brown and tan, any with a passing knowledge of the galaxy's most important and critical organizations would recognize her as a Jedi. Though she wore their colors, her garb emerged from a style unlike that preferred by the Order. She wore a simple tunic and breeches with a cape over the shoulders. The stolen lightsaber hung lightly from her hip.

Her senses alerted her to the moment the Dearg Due breached the slaver cruiser's landing bay. She removed the lightsaber from her belt, rested her thumb on the ignition, and waited for the ramp to lower. It hissed as it descended, and she instantly activated her weapon.

Blaster fire met her as she disembarked. The Dearg Due fired back, forcing all but those with small arms to dodge behind cover or take their eyes off her. While her right hand guided her weapon, Gladiolus lifted and tossed several large containers at the greatest threats with the left. She first took out a trio of Trandoshans manning a repeating gun emplacement before directing another toward a warrior lugging a rocket launcher onto their shoulder.

Once she was clear of the shuttle, it fired one last volley before disengaging. Gladiolus sensed Landren guide the shuttle out toward the Ryloth. He should be wise and regroup with those cruisers that had withdrawn from combat, but she suspected he wanted to remain close to her and with trustworthy company. He had grown accustomed to waiting thanks to her battle meditation.

The Trandoshans still standing screamed, "Jedi! Jedi!" as she approached. Her lips drew into a thin line while she pushed forward against their blaster fire. Were it up to her, they would scream "Sith!" while knowing their judgment and damnation had finally come.

But she could not act as a Sith would. Gladiolus needed to preserve the fiction she was a Jedi Knight, no matter how it pained her. The people under her command believed it true. She had leveraged their knowledge and faith in the Jedi to acquire and strengthen their trust, no matter how weak their faith in the Jedi had been prior to her bold actions. While she might have had success if she revealed herself as Darth Gladiolus, Dark Lord of the Sith, to begin, she knew that would attract unnecessary attention from both the Jedi Order and her fellow Sith Lords.

So she pushed forward, deflecting blaster bolts back to whomever fired them. She made a conscious effort to not always strike true with her deflections; Jedi were about peace and mercy. And though the latter disgusted her, she knew allowing those enslaved aboard some measure of justice against their captors would further bind them to her cause. Some might question if she were truly a Jedi as a result, but Gladiolus believed the incidents worthwhile to further her hold on those freed by her actions. Her vanguard should be faithful and fanatical, believing in Gladiolus and her justice no matter her face, name, or cause.

For one day, she would turn her growing forces against the Republic. She would bleed the Jedi dry, deplete the strength of her foe, and bring about twenty thousand years of Sith rule, all shaped in her image.

The Trandoshan defenders eventually realized their blasters proved ineffective against her lightsaber. Two fired static electro-nets her way, but she dodged the attempts to restrain her. After the second occasion, she tossed her lightsaber at the offending foe. The blade cut through the reptilian hunter before returning to her outstretched hand. She then had to dive and weave around a volley of blaster fire before blasting them with a Force pulse.

A few of the reptilian men drew metallic swords—vibroblades, Gladiolus had heard them called—and charged headfirst. She watched and waited. The Jedi's way was to use the Force for knowledge and defense. They rejected aggression. Were she her true self, she would have charged in, matching ferocity with ferocity. Instead, she faced their fury with serenity and calm. It left her sickened, disgusted.

But it did not weaken her. The Force was life, and life was not all aggression and passion. It contained peace and serenity, and so Gladiolus extracted power from that aspect. It left her troubled, for she feared the sway of the Cosmic Force. She would not allow some great power to control her mind. Her mind was hers alone, safe and secured against threats beyond.

Gladiolus parried the first Trandoshan's blade, slicing through his wrist with practiced ease. She sent the disarmed warrior flying while the next Trandoshan reached her. She played with that one, deflecting swipes until they overextended. She stepped forward and around their lunge, severing both arms with a single sweeping blow. She then kicked up between the legs, using excess strength from the Force to disable the foe with a single devastating blow.

Three more rushed her, though their spirit waved enough to disappoint her. Witnessing the first two fail stunted them, breaking them in a fashion she had not intended. It mattered not, for Gladiolus carved through them with ease. She revealed a hint of her deviousness with the last, deactivating her weapon, sidestepping his off-balanced strike, and reignited her weapon so the calm yellow blade pierced the Trandoshan's black heart. She cast the corpse aside with the Force and found herself in a quiet hangar bay littered with corpses.

She headed for the turbolift bay before her. Gladiolus kept her weapon ready; she sensed continued movement through the cruiser. The slavers had not decided to kill their cargo yet, but she sensed a few among their number considering the idea. Fury bubbled in her, drawing her away from the serenity of the Jedi's relationship with the Force back to the fiery passion of the dark side.

Gladiolus yanked open the nearest turbolift door with the Force. She poked her head into the shaft, glancing up and down. The car rested below, down where the cargo holds would be on this class of cruiser. She dropped from the floor above, landed softly upon the inert car, and carved a man-sized hole through the top. She used a touch of the Force to slam the carved section down into the turbolift car, just in case someone loitered in the turbolift instead of stepping out onto the deck beyond.

She found nobody within. While she could have wielded her senses to determine if a Trandoshan occupied the car, she had been caught in the flow of combat. Gladiolus relied on her instincts, not the calm and rational aspects of her false persona. A Jedi would have stopped and sensed instead of acting so hastily. That was how they were trained, whereas Gladiolus developed several questionable instincts before stumbling upon the Sith holocrons of Lord Salazar.

The turbolift door opened automatically, and the Sith Lord was presented with the sight of several blasters turning her way. Gladiolus glanced between the doors and the hole above. A dash of inspiration struck her. With a smirk, she leaped up, out of the car, and then tumbled forward so any party entering the car could not spot her.

Blaster fire saturated the car below. Gladiolus grimaced as the smell of smoldering durasteel rose through the hole. She kneeled beside it and watched as the rate of blaster fire slowed before spluttering out. Gargling and clicking filled the air. While Gladiolus suspected she could manipulate the Force to overcome the language barrier, she did not need to ponder what they were saying. They would be furious they were out-maneuvered. And for their next move, they would send someone in as bait.

My, my, she thought with a wry grin. They believe they can trap me. Gladiolus's grin drew outward into a vicious smirk. Well, I would be a terrible guest if I left them waiting.

She waited until a Trandoshan entered the car before descending, lightsaber already swinging. She slaughtered the hapless warrior and then zoomed out of the car, propelled by her power, before they could open fire. She entered a large entry that broke off toward several passages. Her swift move delayed their response; Gladiolus pierced two more before they managed to reorient their attack. She managed their assault, zipping about whenever their fire became too concentrated for her trophy lightsaber to manage.

As expected, the Trandoshans all fell in the end. Gladiolus counted over twenty corpses before the activity grew tiresome. She was surprised and disgusted by the waste of life. She would have thought, stepping out into a galaxy advanced in technology, that their morals would be as advanced. Instead, she found the same barbarism that haunted her planet's history played out time and again.

Once finished with her butchery, she turned to free the slaves. That was when the corridors turned red. A mechanical voice announced: [LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEMS – DECK SEVEN – DEACTIVATED].

Gladiolus frowned. Deck Seven? Deactivated?

A moment later, she felt what the computer had warned her about. Processed air no longer flowed from the ventilation system. She could not tell if the entire system was off or if they had merely turned off the scrubbers for Deck Seven. Regardless of which, she already sensed the clock counting down on those she sought to save.

She shot straight to the turbolift bank and then leaped up through the hole she carved into the top of the waiting car. Gladiolus sprung up the shaft, her senses already reaching out to locate where the life support systems were. She hurried, already sensing the failing and faltering health of the prisoners below. Several were in such poor condition she feared she might lose them.

But she was a Sith Lord. Sith Lords possessed power enough to prevent such simple, banal deaths. The dark side of the Force coalesced around her as Darth Gladiolus flowed through the cruiser, seeking all who would interfere with her rescue operation.

Within a standard hour of deploying Darth Gladiolus onto the Trandoshan cruiser, the ship in question fired off a surrender on all local frequencies. Landren knew Gladiolus had freed the prisoners aboard and set them about sending off the surrender. He sighed and guided the Dearg Due to the same docking bay where he deployed the Sith Lord as the interdictors deactivated their generators. Gladiolus stood waiting in the hangar, flanked by two Wookiees. They loomed over her, yet they did not diminish her power.

She appears even stronger, flanked by Wookies.

Landren settled the shuttle on the hangar floor. He hesitated for a few seconds before he moved to disembark. He had a feeling she was about to upend his life once more.

He tossed aside his hesitation and disembarked. Gladiolus beamed at the sight of him. The Wookie on her left grumbled and moaned, while the other remained silent. The Sith Lord stepped forward and declared, "Welcome aboard, Landren." She paused before admitting, "I never learned what the Trandoshans called their vessel. They were too busy trying to kill me."

"You'll have it renamed, so it doesn't matter," he said. Landren glanced at the Wookiees before whispering, "Why are they here?"

"Ah, the Wookiees. I had wondered when you'd ask. Apparently, my effort to rescue all of them was enough to trigger some blood pact they hold to."

Landren frowned.

"Basically," the Sith Lord said, exasperated, "They will remain faithful and loyal to me until either I die or I betray their honor enough that they can no longer stomach remaining by my side."

"That…" He breathed out heavily. "I have heard that the loyalty and ferocity of the Wookiees is great. Some suggest that if they engaged in activities beyond their homeworld more often, they would be a force to reckon with galactically."

"Then perhaps it is good for us that they have not been in that position… historically." She then stepped back and turned to the watching Wookiees. Gladiolus granted them a beatific smile that chilled Landren. "I have explained the matter to Landren, my companion. Since I travel with him so often, it would be amiss on my part to not explain what has transpired here between us."

The Wookiees rumbled and growled, though they did not sound too displeased.

Somehow, Gladiolus knew exactly what they said. She followed up her comment with, "Should you desire it, I could grant captaincy of this vessel to the most worthy among your number. I think it would do the Trandoshans good to know their efforts at enslaving their local foe has not only been foiled but has ended with a vessel of theirs being placed in your capable hands."

Landren watched as Darth Gladiolus, pretending to be a Jedi liberator, argued and negotiated with the very Wookiees who should happily accept anything she gave them. He wondered what exactly occurred that led to their sworn oaths and what they entailed. Perhaps the Wookiees remained prideful, despite everything that transpired.

And then, as he listened to Gladiolus's side of the conversation, it dawned on him that the issue was that Gladiolus spent her time aboard the Dearg Due during combat instead of remaining with the Wookiees. They wanted her by their side as much as possible so that they might protect her.

Landren choked and then laughed. He threw his head back, for he had not been party to something serious. It was all ego and posturing. His laugh grew and grew, tears leaking out from the corners of his eyes. He should not be surprised at this point that Gladiolus would try and negotiate something as banal as her specific place during space combat with her new defenders. Though if he were frank, it was about time she acquired herself a proper flagship to be aboard while busy with battle meditation. All it took was a lucky foe to swamp their shuttle with missiles to eliminate her.

"…care to explain what's so funny?" asked Gladiolus, hissing through her teeth. Her false emerald eyes flickered yellow as though she were a cat. "Hmm? Hmmmm?"

"I… I just thought it was hilarious you're trying to remain aboard that shuttle when you'd be safer aboard a cruiser."

Gladiolus sighed and rubbed her face. "Why am I even surprised?" She sighed again before turning back to the Wookiees. They stared at Landren with dark, intelligent eyes. He shivered under their attention.

"I'll agree to your request," Gladiolus suddenly said, drawing all eyes to her. "However, I will be naming this ship—my new flagship. That will be non-negotiable."

The conversation continued for a while longer, but it was confirmed in the end: the Trandoshan cruiser would be repaired and augmented by the Wookiees. And once ready, Gladiolus would christen it with a new name and come aboard her new flagship.

Ten days after the Keldoonie ambush fleet returned to the Godsheart system, two ships from the other fleet returned. Gladiolus sensed panic and fear within those on the bridge of the ship she occupied. She longed to christen the Trandoshan cruiser she had taken to be her flagship, but it remained under repair following the extensive damage it took during the ambush. The Trandoshans had managed to disable more than the life support before she slew them all, though she had managed to patch that before it could be too destroyed.

Gladiolus sensed victory from the approaching ships. She reflected that mood through her fleet, though she kept secret her confusion over why they came alone.

"Contact the lead vessel," Gladiolus commanded. She turned to a hesitant comm officer. "Contact them. I wish to know—"

A holoprojector activated before her. Gladiolus turned and found a tall Twi'lek before her, shaded in blue. She did not recognize the Twi'lek, though she had no cause to believe he was not loyal to her.

"Knight Rynn. I am Aymon, captain of the Mellenor. Admiral Hemmen requested I return to Godsheart and inform you of our successes."

"Then report," said Gladiolus.

She listened intently as Captain Aymon highlighted the successes along the hyperlanes into and out of the southern reaches of Hutt Space. They had somehow acquired a third interdictor cruiser, along with twelve more ships. Two mercenary bands had attempted to destroy them; the first had been crushed, while the second managed to convince Hemmen it would be worth the effort to employ them through piracy. Hemmen had agreed temporarily, providing coordinates near the edge of Hutt Space for rendezvous. A test would be prepared for them in due time.

"We received a report from the Admiral before our return," Captain Aymon finally said. "I'll have my comm officer send it over so you may review it at your pleasure."

"Thank you, Captain. Once I have a response, I'll send you back to Admiral Hemmen along with two more ships. I plan to move the fleet soon, in case the Hutts grow curious about activity near this 'holy' system."

"Understood, Master Jedi. Captain Aymon out."

The holoprojected figure vanished with a flicker. Gladiolus tapped her foot as she stared out the transparisteel viewport at the lumbering newcomers. Her campaign was moving along smoother than she anticipated. Yet she sensed something on the horizon. A challenge directed her way, some event that would either end her or make her more powerful.

Whatever it was, she hoped that would prompt Darth Gladiolus and not this Jedi illusion to move against the Hutts in a fashion she could never retract.

In the Force, she sensed a flicker. It was brief. So brief she nearly thought it her imagination. But then she sensed it again. Searching. Seeking.

Pursuing.