This story takes place after the Battle of Endor with the successful rise of the Republic to become the dominant power bloc in the galaxy and the Empire as small, scattered remnant factions of outlaws, patriots and mercenaries. But under the Bothan Borsk Fey'lya, the Republic is increasingly turning into a totalitarian state that uses the endless wars in the Outer Rim as a justification for obtaining full powers and general mobilization. Our heroes are increasingly forced to form alliances with the men they have fought for years in order to save the soul of the galaxy. Contains elements from the film universe and the EU. My native language is German and I have only been on this forum since today, so...I apologize for my grammar and the many mistakes that are sure to come. Otherwise, enjoy reading.

Mara

Roaring sand dragged over the outer shell of her transporter until the hydraulics and the bodywork gradually wore out. The wind howled sharply and unnaturally like a pack of dying anoobas. The stormy season that gripped the entire northern hemisphere every year at the beginning of winter on Tatooine was the nightmare of every pilot and mechanic. Sand, dust and dirt of all kinds crept into every crack, every crevice and every cavity of a flying machine, settled there and further eroded the inner workings of the machines with every use. This whirlwind that had just broken over them was only a gentle breeze in comparison. Real sandstorms, those titanic storms that summoned a mini-apocalypse, often carried shards of glass or rock with them, peeled the flesh from your bones, shredded armour and sometimes buried entire settlements with all their inhabitants in just a few hours, leaving no trace of the great disaster that had just swept through the land like an avalanche. The desert looked exactly the same after the storms as it did before, everything changed and everything stayed exactly the same - and it had done so for thousands of years, ever since the Rakata, in their attempt to break the resistance of the natives, transformed the lush, blooming landscape of this world into a barren, lifeless wasteland. "The wind is slowly dying down again. We can continue in a few minutes." Canyn, the pilot of the Morgenstern, promised them, a Hovercroft land ship of the Kaper II type, an extension of the magnificent sailing barge with which noblemen could fly through the desert so as not to be soiled with dirt like ordinary mortals. Like servants and serfs. But this was not a fancy yacht, not a ship for pleasure trips, the Morgenstern was a privateer, a dragon slayer.

"Very good. Now pack up the tarpaulins again and remove the rotor protection." Captain Klynch ordered his crew consisting of day laborers and employees of Piper Brothers Construction.

Almost ten years ago, five years before the death of the Emperor and the fall of the Empire, Piper Brother Construction, a large mining company based on Coruscant, had begun to open larger mines in search of meteorite ore, but their successes did not bring the desired profit. The few veins they found were small and insignificant, they barely covered a third of the costs incurred and the workers' camps were increasingly being attacked by Tuskens, but the worst of all were the Krayt dragons themselves. The lizards ate workers, destroyed the drilling machines and devastated entire stations. The noise of the drilling and the digging of the mole machines in the ground provoked them. Then the company management had a daring idea: if they couldn't mine ore, then at least something else: dragon pearls. The valuable pieces of jewelry were created solely in the stomachs of the animals and only after many years, usually only one per dragon and each pearl brought in over a hundred thousand credits. At first the Piper Brothers paid the Tuskens to hunt the dragons for them, this calmed the sand nomads and fended off the wild animals, but this trade only worked for a very short time. A Tusken tribe usually killed less than a dozen Krayt dragons a year, for manhood rituals and to feed their tribe, but never for profit. The dragons were mystical animals that were worshipped almost as deities and were said to have unspeakable powers. A Krayt dragon was the alpha predator of the Tatooine ecosystem; no one attacked it except the Tusken, who thus appropriated its strength and royal power. Piper Brothers were not very interested in this and the settlers whose farms and livestock suffered from the dragons also supported them. So bounties were charged and hunting was industrialized, and finally the company took matters into their own hands and hired teams of privateers to kill the lizards living underground.

"Pack everything up, we'll meet the Yllou in about half an hour." The storm had surprised them; even in summer these freaks of nature occurred at irregular intervals. The fleet, consisting of three privateers and six lighter escort ships, had to land to wait out the storm. The solar sails had been folded in, all hatches closed and the deck covered with a large tarpaulin so that everything did not flood. Mara's smaller landspeeder offered less protection than the large ships from the adversities of Tatooine, so they had to park it under a collapsible scaffold and take shelter inside the privateers for at least half an hour, she thought she had counted. Like the rest of the armed escort, it was under the command of the sub from Talon Karde, who offered a considerable range of services on the side, including private security guards for dragon hunting, for example. The Tuskens naturally did not like the fact that their holy creatures, revered as totems, were being systematically hunted and slaughtered, and the caravans of smugglers and land speeders were attacked almost daily in attempts to take their prey. It was her responsibility to ensure that this did not happen. "I do not like these masked rats," she said grimly, pulling the veil of her turban a little looser in front of her mouth so that she could feel the glowing glow of the twins on her skin in the bright blue sky above Tatooine.

"Who does that? But they are useful and inexpensive," Lyra replied casually as she helped to dismantle the metal frame and stow it in the storage space at the rear of the speeder. Her adjutant came from Mos Eisley and was perfectly capable of doing the job without her strict instructions, but Mara had personal reasons for taking part in the hunt.

The Jawas were there and were her helpful allies on every other mission. The small, rodent-like creatures were, along with the Tusken Raiders, one of the other intelligent species that lived here on Tatooine when this planet still had water, and since then they have been involved in a bloody racial conflict with each other. Jawas were smaller and weaker than the Tusken, they only survived through their technological superiority and by turning more and more to the settlers in the colonies than to the brutal freedom of the desert. They traded with the moisture farmers and miners, and when the dragon pearl business took off, they were able to make a double profit: First of all, a new market was opened up that enabled them to ensure their survival, and at the same time they took away the livelihood of their hated and seemingly superior rivals, the Tusken. A Krayt dragon could feed an entire tribe for months, and just by capturing a pearl, an Uli-ah, a child of the Tusken, became a man. They took away their dignity and food in one fell swoop, especially as the Tusken increasingly got into bloody border conflicts with the settlers and farmers, which caused their numbers to shrink further. They encountered the towering, crawling sand robbers of the Yllou behind two large dune formations further west. The Jawas informed them when their sensors buried deep in the ground sounded the alarm and helped them attract the burrowing Krayt dragons. "He says their buoy was activated a good quarter of an hour ago, a large tremor that is eating its way south." Lyra translated the wild ramblings of the tribal leader of the faceless wights for them.

"Do you have an echo scan of the dragon?" asked Klynch.

"Uh, yes, here." Lyra held out a datapad in which the sound waves emitted and reflected by the probe had created a 3D model of the dragon's body as it crawled past them.

"Wow, the thing measures at least eighty meters from the snout to the tip of the tail. It's a good thing we have three corpsers with us, otherwise we wouldn't be able to get this colossus up at all." Canyn marveled, impressed. Hunting Krayt dragons was not easy and not without danger. Full-grown specimens could grow to gigantic sizes, weigh over a hundred tons, and spit out their own corrosive stomach acid to kill rivals or prey. They were particularly vulnerable on their stomachs and faces. Their backs and the tip of their tails were armored, and even the heavy on-board weapons of a frigate or light cruiser sometimes had difficulty getting through. They were very frugal and rested for a very long time after each meal. The aim was to lure them out of their caves into the desert when they went hunting, with noise and with fresh prey, and then to prevent them from digging deeper into the earth. The onboard weapons fired harpoons at high pressure in order to wedge the hooks in the cracks between their armor plates. They pulled them up, trying to hit their necks and faces so that they didn't get a chance to snap at them with their mouths. The crews of the light skiffs then had to slit the dragons' stomachs and throats with lances and armor-piercing guns until they bled to death.

"That means rich prey, you can measure age by size. An old bull like that one must have at least two pearls." Said Rudhun, a one-eyed man with a crooked nose and scarred skull who was sharpening the tips of their durasteel lances.

"Do you really think so?" Lyra asked.

"Oh yes, I once killed a large hundred dollar bear in front of Mos Pelgor that even had three pearls in its stomach!" Rudhun snorted loudly.

"Oh come on, stop it, everyone knows that even the oldest animals have a maximum of two pearls." Lyra replied.

"Oh no, There is no maximum number of pearls a Krayt dragon can produce. I even heard someone say that a Titan out in the Tremor Fields had four in his body, each one as big as my eye." He countered vehemently, pointing to his good eye.

"It's just so damn hard to kill these huge behemoths and then brag about it to someone." He added with a horrible chuckle.

They followed the lizard's trail. When Krayt dragons dug through the sand, they pushed metal and mineral fragments from the lower layers of the earth up into the fresh air. Tiny jet fragments stuck to the magnetic meteorite stone on the underside of their ships. Klynch ordered the ground sensors to be dropped, torpedo-like falling bodies that dug deeper into the sand with a rotating tip as they fell. The dragons' vibration-active sensory organs reacted to even the slightest vibration; she could feel the thunder of a herd of banthas and even the gentle patter of a mosquito on the surface. Apparently they could even tell from the speed, gait and step pattern whether an animal was wounded, old or weak. The sonic busters of the ground sensors imitated the groaning and restless pounding of a dying bantha's heartbeat to attract the dragon. She enjoyed the cooling rush of the wind in the fast flight of the light gliders. The wind knocked the cap off her head so that her fiery red hair beat in the dry wind. Cursing quietly, she straightened her hair again. She turned briefly away from the empty, colorless wasteland around her, her gaze wandering to the two twin suns in the bright blue sky above Tatooine. But something made her pause, spellbound. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and a cold shiver ran up her limbs. "Give me the lance. Tell the Morning Star to get ready." She ordered abruptly and grabbed the next lance in the holder before Rudhun could do it for her.

"What? Why, we just dropped the first load, it usually takes a few minutes until the next dragon in the area notices us. The creatures aren't the fastest and…" Rudhun said before she turned to him and glared angrily at Rudhun with poisonous green glowing eyes.

"Just do it!" She ordered him again emphatically and used the cables on her belt to hook herself onto the railing of the skiff so as not to fall off the ship.

"Morning Star, this is the Eruptodon, shooters take position." Rudhun ordered over the radio.

"Down there!" Mara pointed to a spot at the edge of a steeply sloping ravine that looked just as inconspicuous as all the other spots around it.

"Why?" Rudhun asked again, not putting anything above his own personal experience.

"Wait, something is coming." Lyra said, and aimed the tip of the bow at the point that Mara had indicated. She raised the heavy lance above her head, ready to throw, squinted her eyes and took a deep breath. She let the calm take hold of her body. Relaxed her muscles and loosened her joints a little. Now she was one with the power and could already see the beast coming while the others were still struggling to adjust their straps on the railing. AAARRGGHHH!

Krayt dragons really weren't the kind of hunters that chased their prey for miles, they were persistent but rather snuck up on their prey or half buried themselves in the sand to lie in wait for them. But as soon as a Bantha or a Sand Nomad came close enough to them, they jumped out of their hiding places and snapped at everything that moved and bit until it stopped moving. A high fountain of sand shot into the sky, the Morningstar had been able to react in time and had gone into intercept position, which meant that she held back a little further to create distance from the dragon. The Alandhur had not been so lucky, the sand rained bucketfuls into their turbines so that they went crazy and even caught fire on the left side "NOW!" The bull stood sideways to them, laid his head back and pulled his bent legs close together, all clear signs that he was preparing to jump or even attack with his acid breath. Mara recognized his tactic and got there first, she used the leverage of gravity and the weight of the lance and hurled it directly at him. The pointed head penetrated his left eye so that he turned away from them screaming. Its whip-like bladed tail lashed out at them and threw up even more sand. Even this colossus threatened to disappear in the cloud of dust, but Canyn brought the Morning Star closer in time so that the harpoons, at least a few of them, hit their target and got caught in its hind legs.

The Krayt dragon tried to escape, the Morning Star increased in height and speed and lifted its abdomen. Mara lost her footing and tipped forwards but the cables held her in place, with Rudhan's help she climbed back on board. The bull staggered, with only one eye he could hardly see so his acid spit missed their ships. "Next!" Rudhun threw her the next lance. The skiffs swarmed around the dragon, which was turning back and forth in the steel cables of the privateers. The Red Ember threw its ropes and chain harnesses around its skull, hooked itself into its right front claw and almost pulled it apart with the help of the Morning Star so that the skiffs could attack its belly.

"Stand back, the death blow is ours!" one of the other crews shouted over to them. There were high rewards for the guard who could kill the dragon. Like the others, Mara wasn't primarily interested in money, but rather in reputation and the reputation of a dragon slayer.

"Try it and you'll regret it!" she replied grimly and was about to throw a lance at the beast again, but then changed her mind at the last minute. "Further back!" she ordered abruptly. Unlike Rudhan, Lyra didn't question her orders for a second and immediately obeyed her words. She pulled her skiff further back, apparently to make room for the other skiffs. The other hunters flew closer to the colossus, spurred on to the next attack by the supposed surrender of their competitors. But Mara knew better, she had seen what was coming. The dragon managed to free its front claw from the noose and used it to strike at the approaching skiffs. He was half blind, bleeding from at least a dozen superficial wounds and being attacked from all sides, but he still managed to take out two of the skiffs that had come too close to him with just one blow, blindly trusting that the cables would be able to hold him. But such old behemoths were unpredictable and even stronger than they seemed. Their debris flew flaming into the blood-soaked sand. "Now get closer!" With a clear field of fire, she could better attack the underside. The Red Ember, the name came from its fiery red paint, attacked again from the side, but the dragon grabbed at the ropes and tugged at them. Mara had a perfect opportunity as long as he continued to raise his neck like that. She moved further forward to the bow and rammed her lance forward, over her head. She hit the bull where the neck slowly merged into the underside of the mouth, where the layers of skin were thin and better supplied with blood, and cut open a large artery. Enraged, the dragon let go of the cables again and jerked his head around, hitting the Alandhur, which had managed to regain control of its engines. It did not sink, but took a large gaping dent in its outer hull armor. The dragon's instincts automatically switched from fight to flight.

It tried to bury itself in the sand and pulled the privateers behind it, but they kept lifting it back to the surface where the skiffs continued to attack it like needle pricks. Most of the projectiles bounced off the scales on its back, but soon its flanks, neck and limbs were stung with scorched and broken lance shafts. Even this titan's strength was limited. After hours of constant driving and injuring, its blood poured out of several wounds in the sand until its limbs became weak and its hissing less. Now it was up to the ships to drag him behind them like a limp trophy. His claws and the tip of his tail weakly drew grooves in the sand, the skiffs positioned themselves on the underside of the dragon and slit open his stomach. The distinctive, overly wide trail of blood stretched for miles across the barren sea of dunes, a single red thread with no beginning or end. When the dragon had finally bled out its life, the privateers threw off its lifeless carcass and the butchers cut the corpse open from the underside with large saws to get to the valuable pearls in its intestines.

"You were right, Rudhan, the beast actually had two pearls and had already started to form a third," Mara said appreciatively.

"What do you actually do with these pearls? This was my fifth hunt and I still don't know." Lyra asked casually.

"This allows you to better focus the ion blades of a lightsaber and strengthen them even further. Besides, there is always someone who wears all sorts of things as jewelry if etiquette demands it." Mara replied briefly. They dismantled the carcass into its individual parts and took some of the meat to support the other teams in the company's camps and warehouses. The suns were already sinking towards the horizon when they arrived home and brought their ships into the covered hangars to park them there for the night. Not far from the workers' camps was Mos Karadur, one of the many small towns that represented here on Tatooine what the rest of the galaxy understood as civilization and were also among the profiteers of dragon hunting. The crews went to the local bars and saloons after the hard, exhausting and often life-threatening work that usually saw them wandering alone through the desert for days on end, to exchange their wages for drinks and distraction from their worries. The bars, inns and fighting arenas were mostly only designed for the foreign workers because the economy flourished with them. Mara also preferred to visit one of these much-vaunted gambling dens this evening, but not for personal pleasure but to fulfill her mission. Her true mission "I've been looking for you for a long time, I almost thought it was pointless but then I heard from a friend that Krevik Alan is back in town. Back from his two-year journey out in the Corvij Lands." She greeted the lonely, unnoticeable figure who was crouched in one of the padded alcoves of the establishment and stared lost into his glass. "You have friends?" Krevik replied without looking up at her.

"That's what I call people who prefer to stay alive." She said and sat down opposite him. Krevik Alan was an unremarkable man of average height, empty eyes and a completely unimaginative expression. He only survived by proving himself to be somewhat useful, but always hiding how clever and cunning he really was. If Darth Vader was the Emperor's right hand and Mara Jade was his left hand hidden behind his back, then Krevik Alan was the ace held in one of those hands. In her hand to be precise "You know why I'm here." That wasn't a question, Krevik's name wasn't on any list or directory, he was invisible and didn't exist at all, a rumor, a ghost like her.

"Of course, I was just wondering why you took so long?" he asked sarcastically.

"I was busy." She answered truthfully.

"Yes, I heard." He said, giggling furtively.

"You still remember Amadda, don't you?" Krevik asked in a meaningful voice and took a light sip of his glass. Yes, she still remembered her last conversation with the Emperor's right hand. As the Emperor's unofficial left hand, she knew the secret paths and tunnels that led through the Imperial Palace to its core, the Emperor's Solar. Two years after Endor, rumors persisted that the Emperor was not dead. The rebels were already close to Coruscant and the rumors were still that the Emperor had survived the battle, that he was lying badly wounded in his chamber and was still pulling the strings of power. Mara had been trying to get in touch with him for a long time, but her master remained silent, so she returned to Coruscant to see for herself. As a supposed former concubine, she was almost lost in the magnificent walls, a pretty face in the crowd, even though an oppressive gloom had settled over the palace in recent years and everything beautiful had had to disappear to make room for makeshift positions and command instruments. But a spy like her was not going to let that stop her. She found her way through the empty hallways and dead corridors until she stood in front of the Emperor's chamber and, after a brief hesitation, pushed it open. There he lay before her, a scarred corpse covered in horrific burns, connected to equipment that was medically keeping it alive. Mara had reached out to him with the Force, had explored his aura, but something was wrong. The life force in him, this supposedly old, frail man, glowed with the power of a star, so hot that she almost burned herself with it, but now his fire had gone out. There was still life in him, but it was no longer as it used to be, weak, without any strength, so hollow, almost... artificially, Mara felt, "What happened to him?" She clenched her hands angrily into fists, but felt his presence, which seemed to burn compared to the corpse on the oversized luxury bed.

"I really thought you were smarter, Jade. Our emperor died in battle two years ago." Amadda stood behind her, leaning on his gold-plated staff as always, and looked at her with an expression that was difficult to interpret. He seemed old to them, tired and worn out.

"And they created a cheap clone copy to continue to he to remain the power of the Empire?!" she spat at him contemptuously and pointed to the corpse in front of her.

"I am the only reason why the Empire did not fall fifteen years ago. The Emperor had long since succumbed to madness, paranoia and occult customs long before Yavin. He was obsessed with becoming immortal in order to rule forever. To do this, he wanted to separate his mind from his dying body in order to be able to live on in another vessel. An armor that he could exchange for a new, better one at will. Anakin Skywalker was supposed to be this vessel, but then he became a cripple and a cyborg, his son was then supposed to have this honor, but after Hoth the Emperor began to understand that Vader would never be able to defeat his son and Sidious would never be able to convert him. So a new thought sprouted in him, the idea of cloning himself, combining his DNA with that of other strong Force users." Amadda said and watched with a self-righteous grin as Mara scratched her left arm where a large amount of blood had once been taken from her at regular intervals with a needle. It had been explained to her that it was for research purposes, on the orders of the Emperor himself.

"Yes, your generous genome donations also helped a lot. Most of the embryos were too weak to live, some were just lifeless shells like this one, useful to keep the regime's patriots in line and thus maintain the appearance of order and control. But a few, or more precisely one, survived and was brought to safety. The only true offspring and heir of Darth Sidious." Amadda said.

"What happened to him?" She demanded to know immediately.

"I don't know, the most secret knowledge was shared so that only one could take over the power. Unfortunately, this means that it is impossible to defend the throne for now, and the rebels will soon seize everything here. What they do not destroy, they will seize for themselves." Amadda said carefully and walked over to the side of the supposed emperor.

"You are a coward and a traitor." Mara said disgustedly.

"You Force users, the Emperor's fierce fighting dogs. So helpless without your master to feed and protect you." Amadda replied without looking at her. His gaze rested solely on the grotesque image of her emperor.

"Just like her, your suffering is now over." She promised him and activated her lightsaber.

"There is little of importance that I can remember. I just want to know one thing, where is Sidious' heir?" She asked bluntly, her voice trembling.

"Oh, don't worry, she's fine. Probably." Krevik said.