Hutt Campaign VI

The Sun Sets on Nal Hutta

For twelve days, the five fleets under the command of Darth Gladiolus, known as Jedi Knight Whae Rynn by her followers and nearly all her enemies, prepared for the final battle of their war. Interdictors yanked all vessels traveling through the four occupied systems of Toydaria, Rorak, Varl, and Du Hutta. The Fourth Fleet gathered further from the rest at Orondia, preparing for their vanguard effort against whatever remained of the Hutt Home Fleet. Everyone across the fleets knew that once the day came, they would fight the fiercest and deadliest warriors the Hutts retained at their disposal.

Then again, they had been challenged several times across the intermittent days. Fleets either loyal to the Hutts or paid exorbitant amounts attacked repeatedly, delaying some repairs and costing Gladiolus nearly several ships on the ninth day. Thankfully, volunteer reinforcements arrived from the Inner Rim and the Colonies, along with mercenaries seeking to loot either Nal Hutta or Nar Shaddaa. The lack of volunteers from the Core Worlds and the failure of Jedi to appear troubled her some, but the lacking presence of the Sith assassin that attempted to eliminate her at Sleheyron was a relief. She had been concerned about a second attempt on her life. She suspected the other Sith, after their success at Eriadu, were busy moving forward their plot against the Jedi and the Republic.

Regardless, Gladiolus did not worry or fear what might happen when she finally moved on the Y'Toub system. After all, she had received a secret transmission from Landren, confirming the placement of the thousand atomics she acquired from the arms dealer Belbo Marne. His message had suggested she use them as a bargaining tool, as a means to coerce good behavior from the Hutts. But Gladiolus had learned, both as a witch and as a Sith Lord, that threats meant nothing if there was no willingness to follow them through. She planned to make a single, gracious offer to the Hutts. Once they denied her, for they would, she would display her mettle for the galaxy to behold.

Some will decry me for the nasty business of quelling the Hutt menace, but they will all thank me in time. They deserve neither mercy nor sympathy. Their mere presence degrades and destroys, tearing away all good sense and will.

The galaxy shall be a better place, once they're no more.

Gladiolus knew she would not destroy every single Hutt when her endgame played out on Nal Hutta. Many remained on worlds cut off from Hutt Space. Already her fleets intercepted several Hutts, imprisoning them until the day of reckoning. Some under her command desire slaughter or wicked retribution, but the knowledge their leader had not commanded the execution of their Hutt prisoners yet stayed their hands. But their feelings bubbled and rippled through the Force, alerting Gladiolus to their feelings.

And if the Jedi are not as blind as I hope, then they will know as well. Given that the Grand Master of their order already knew Gladiolus was a Sith Lord and not the Jedi she posed as, odds were some would prepare to hunt her down and destroy her. They were welcome to try, even if she would sooner turn them against her fellow Siths than concern herself with Jedi persecution. She doubted any among their number would dare grant her an ounce of clemency. Whae Rynn had not said it on Ziost, but she had projected a single certain thought across the world: "the fate of the Jedi is to combat evil—to combat the Sith."

And so I must act as I see fit. I must prepare for the day I destroy their order, eliminating each Jedi until they are naught but a memory.

For twelve days, her fleets prepared for their final march. For the last full measure they must expend to be victorious.

And on the thirteenth, the command was given.

The time had come.

The final battle for Hutt Space would soon begin.

Hours before the Third Fleet jumped to lightspeed, a matte black shuttle emerged just beyond the interdiction field. Transponder codes immediately fired from it to the HMS Devastator, which relayed boarding instructions. It landed in the flag hangar, nearest the chambers of one Darth Gladiolus. Her eyes peeled open as she sensed her shuttle, a relic of the Sith Lord Salazar Slytherin, land. She rose to her feet, headed for the hangar, and reached the doors just as Landren prepared to enter her flagship.

"Fierfek!" the man cursed, stumbling back a few steps at her brazen, sudden appearance. He huffed. "Had I known you'd seek me out, I would've waited aboard the Dearg Due."

"You should've, but it matters not right now." Gladiolus stepped past him into the hangar. Landren trailed after her, allowing the doors to hiss close. "How fares the operation on Nal Hutta?"

"They'll be ready for when you arrive—whenever that is."

"Good. I would be disappointed if they failed to achieve proper preparation."

Landren drifted until he stood more to her side than behind her. "So, what's your plan for Nal Hutta? Will you threaten them first? Or will you merely detonate them all and handle the fallout afterward?"

"First, I wish to secure Nar Shaddaa," declared the Sith Lord. "If not in whole, then to ensure no reinforcements can leave the moon and come to Nal Hutta's aid. For once the moon has been quarantined, ready to fall into my hands, then I shall cast my shadow across that world."

"Not much of a plan if you irradiate the planet."

"I doubt it'll be irradiated, Landren. The heat from the detonations will turn the planet to glass before anything living is irradiated."

"Glass? Are you mad?"

Gladiolus shrugged. "That would depend on one's definition of 'mad'. Many would not say I am mad presently. But once they witness what I shall do to the Hutts, to the world of Nal Hutta, a great many will change their tune. It is troubling their opinions can be swayed so simply, but that is the nature of the weak and simple. They are guided to the truth—or they are guided to lies. They will be told that what I have done is madness. Foolishness. A crime. But a day shall come when I will reveal to all the true depths of Hutt cruelty. They will gaze upon my actions with fresh eyes and declare me justified."

Landren stared at her. Gladiolus sensed his feelings: the fear, the horror, and the grim certainty that he knew she believed every word uttered. She could not fathom why he would think she did not believe them. She was absolutely justified in her strike against the Hutts. They deserved worse for all they had done and inflicted upon the galaxy. Glassing their homeworld with atomics was one of many bitter punishments she wished to inflict upon them.

They deserve all I do to them, she thought. Gladiolus nearly projected said thought into Landren's mind. But that would be unnecessary. He already knew her feelings on the matter. She would not rest until the Hutts were ruined and their slave trade dismantled. Soon, she would depart Hutt Space to hunt down other slavers. She would make an end of the Hutts and their allies. But for now, she would content herself with the path set before her.

"I have a question," said Gladiolus. "Soon, I will finish with Hutt Space. Will you remain with me afterward, or will we part ways?"

"I… I cannot justify remaining by your side. Not when you plan to cast destruction on such a terrible scale," Landren admitted. He rubbed his face. "And I've been made party to it." He sighed before continuing: "But I will not betray you. In a way, my fortunes have improved since our paths crossed above Muunilinst. I will never betray your trust in me. Perhaps a day will come when I can swallow being in your service once more. But once your business with the Hutts is concluded, we will part ways."

Gladiolus hummed. "And what of the fleets I have established here? Would you be willing to help guide them in my stead?"

Landren paused, a frozen look crossing his face. The Sith Lord stared, feeling more than seeing the tumultuous wave of emotion that rose and fell within the former scoundrel. His gaze dropped to his feet, yet she felt something bright and burning in his chest. A warmth that confounded her after all he had said.

"I… I think I just might." He looked up and granted her a soft smile. "Hemmen and Niem and the rest of your admirals will benefit having someone like myself around to help keep them from causing too much trouble. Yumerra has become your creature that I know she will ensure your will is always… considered."

"It'll mostly be patrol and defensive efforts," Gladiolus admitted. "And most of the volunteers will either return home or spread out across the galaxy, seeking new targets."

"Kessel, for one," he said. "A contact of mine has discovered some of those who've lost significant investments thanks to you were involved with the spice mining operations on Ylesia."

"How fascinating," she drawled. "I did promise myself I would visit and destroy them."

"Send the Third. Yumerra will happily carry your standard and burn any world on your behalf."

"She does know who I truly am, thanks to Jedi interference. If there's any among the admiralty I can trust, it would be her?"

"And what of Niem?"

She snorted. "That cowardly toad? Let him command a 'home' fleet based from the Y'Toub system. Nar Shaddaa will require repairs and restoration if my crusade is to last. This part of the galaxy cannot fall into squalor."

Landren snorted. "Fair enough." He drew in a deep breath and then released it, slow and steady. "Is that all, Lord Gladiolus?"

"It is."

She watched him step past her and head for wherever he would quarter until the jump to the Y'Toub system. Gladiolus hated that she might miss him. She then smiled crookedly; that hatred would be a wellspring of power during the coming battle.

That and her hatred of the Hutts and all they stood for.

A small satellite station hung at the prime spot between the orbits of Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa. The security team aboard monitored ships coming and going, double and triple checking authentication codes against the program lists of authorized and unauthorized landings. The recent attacks throughout Hutt Space had placed many on high alert. And while many Hutts in the Y'Toub system did not fear the marauders endangering their slave trade, enough worried that they made the security and sanctity of their strongest and most important system a necessity.

Staffed almost entirely by droids and Gamorrean warriors, only a pair of humans born in the deepest recesses of Nar Shaddaa lived aboard. They sipped from cups of burnt caff as they checked the periodic reports the droid monitors sent. Their only other task was preventing the Gamorreans from murdering each other whenever they grew too bored to remain on station, as they were supposed to.

"Why did we take this job?" asked one.

"Cause it beat being sold to a spice mining company," the other grumbled.

The first human grunted. "Still sold off, though."

"Yeah, but at least this way we'll have something decent in fifteen years."

They laughed drolly, barely believing their words. They knew their fates. They accepted them. Death was inevitable. But better they get the chance to see the stars and Nal Hutta properly, if only for several brief seconds, than die in the deepest crevices of Nar Shaddaa, unable to even breathe fresh, if recycled, air.

A ping caught their attention. They glanced at a console set directly between them as the ping sounded again. A flash of red appeared alongside the main screen. Technically they should have a third, but nobody had ever occupied that seat. It had remained empty since their arrival long ago. So long ago, in fact, they could not recall anything but their old recesses and crevices, and their small living quarters aboard the satellite.

"Should we…"

The second shook their head. "Don't bother. No doubt it's fake."

"Fake?"

"Aye, fake. Who'd be mad enough to attack the Hutts?"

"Dunno. Someone mad, I guess."

They nodded, agreeing that only the mad would attack the Hutts. Everyone knew they were dangerous. After all, the Jedi and the Republic had never brought them to heel. And even if some Jedi woman ran about, freeing slaves at will, she would never dare strike the Hutts where they were strongest.

Darth Gladiolus, Dark Lord of the Sith, stared out the viewport as the HMS Devastator slipped into the Y'Toub system. She had cast aside all pretense of dressing as a Jedi; her Sith garb, left aboard the Dearg Due following her decision to pretend she was a Jedi, sat lightly upon her body. Her glamour remained mostly affixed to her face, only a few marks permitted to appear. Her paired lightsabers, crimson and gold, hung from her waist, her original weapon on the left and the stolen one on the right. Eyes had flickered to her blades, but nobody spoke. They all understood her crusade was nearly at an end, and they would soon witness the ultimate victory over the Hutts. They would see Nar Shaddaa, one of the most valuable moons in the galaxy, and Nal Hutta, the gleaming gem of the Hutts, fall into her possession. All that existed beforehand would be cast aside, replaced with a new order.

"We're still running dark, ma'am," announced a crewman. "Third Fleet standing by on comm silence." There was a pause of hesitation. "Are you certain we must remain here, ma'am?"

Gladiolus nodded. "We'll wait here until the Sixth and the Fourth begin their assault. Their exuberance will draw away the defenses around either Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta." She grinned, continuing to gaze upon the great swampy world and its urbanized moon. "Once the flank of the enemy is exposed to us, we will engage in our own attack. Hemmen and Niem will operate under a similar expectation."

The bridge remained silent following her final words. While some harbored their doubts, most held firm to their unyielding belief in her. And those who harbored doubts dared not question her. They understood that what lingered in their hearts was safe until the moment they permitted those feelings to become words. Questions of her choices rarely emerged, unless spoken through Admiral Yumerra.

She glanced back at her admiral, who lingered behind her by a few steps.

"Which world do you think they'll attack?"

Admiral Yumerra's lips shifted back and forth several times before she muttered, "They'll head for Nar Shaddaa. They know how important Nal Hutta is for you, my lord. They won't wish to stand in the way of your glorious conquest."

Gladiolus hummed. She had not considered where her fleets might attack. The plan had simply been to bring about the humiliation of the Hutts in space, wrestle Nar Shaddaa from their control, and then she would deliver her sweet justice upon Nal Hutta.

Not that anyone but Landren knows how that will play out. The Wookiees who managed the deliveries and the people who assisted in their placement might have suspicions about what they shall accomplish, but they do not truly know how my justice shall appear.

"If that is their decision, then let them pursue Nar Shaddaa. Should the Hutts manage to envelop them, then we will step forward and provide assistance."

"You think they risk envelopment?"

"Perhaps, though I cannot say for certain yet. The Hutts will seek to retrieve all forces that they have not gathered here. They will be joined by those who have not fled and those who have not been destroyed… yet. We should assume they will make their move to assault us from the rear." Gladiolus turned to the nearest helmsman. "Move the fleet away from our arrival points. I do not wish to impede any arrival into the Y'Toub system."

"Understood, ma'am."

The Devastator began moving, drifting slightly closer to Nal Hutta as it pushed away from where it whispered into the Y'Toub system. Gladiolus sensed other ships in her fleet follow suit, for their helms would have received instructions purely through the movement of the Devastator. She had considered establishing a system to enslave the helm controls of every ship in the Third Fleet to the Devastator before deciding she did not wish to invite questions of hypocrisy while on the cusp of victory. More so, she did not desire to control the entire fleet like a marionette. Her beliefs as a Sith had guided her to the self-evident truth that freedom was the ultimate virtue. Any impediment to it should be overcome, even if that control was merely mechanical.

Yet here I stand, wondering if I should have gone through with the suggestion anyway. She knew that the other admirals had done the same, ensuring that the HMS Trigar of the First, Ryloth of the Second, Victoria of the Fourth, and Coruscant's Light of the Sixth could guide their fellows through difficult or tricky maneuvers.

A klaxon sounded, blaring its hazardous note four times before falling silent. Gladiolus maintained a peaceful front, even as the crew of the Devastator flinched and jumped. The Fourth Fleet had arrived in the Y'Toub system, openly presenting itself despite the other fleets remaining under stealth measures. The klaxon sounded again, its note ringing six times. The Sith Lord finally smiled, for both of her attacking fleets had finally arrived.

She watched as the nearly invisible slivers of ships moved forward, heading for the urbanized moon of Nar Shaddaa.

Apollonius of Ryloth double and triple checked the preflight controls and systems of his Z-98 Headhunter. The leader of Mask Squadron, he was charged with piercing orbital defenses and leading an assault on the Corellian sector of Nar Shaddaa. The cruisers of the Sixth Fleet would engage the moon's home fleet, opening a hole for their sizeable snubfighter escort to fly under cloak and strike the enemy where they were weak. Though he cared little for hitting civilian targets, he understood that threats could emerge from the overbuilt moon. If even a third of the strength lying in wait managed to rise, they could force the Fourth Fleet to join the fight as well, and thus pull them away from the task of intercepting the fleet mobilizing in orbit of Nal Hutta.

"I thought I would find you down here," shouted a familiar voice.

"Why would I not?" replied Apollonius, just as loud. "My flight will deploy soon. You should be returning to your father's ship, girl."

A Twi'lek of fifteen suddenly scaled his boarding ladder. Her skin was a luminescent green, having brightened during the time since he first encountered her. Apollonius had been suspicious of Meera and the crusade she recruited for; he had joined not for wealth or glory, but purely on a whim. While he did not regret his decision, he could not call it the wisest one ever made. The fighting at Du Hutta had nearly cleaved his squadron in twain. They still lost five of their thirteen members, but it was better than the heavy losses they could have otherwise faced. Were they faceless warriors, perhaps their deaths would not dwell in his mind. But they had been friends and colleagues on Ryloth, daring enough to join him in the crusade.

Their loss would be felt for a long time.

"I just received special commands from Knight Wynn. Commands that the good captain has decided to give to your Mask Squadron."

Apollonius frowned. "What orders?"

"She needs a wing of pilots to slag a small observation station set between Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta. I'm not certain how she learned of it or transmitted her instructions, but orders are orders."

"Probably the Force."

"Aye, probably."

Apollonius sighed. He tapped the console of his fighter. "Why did you come tell me this yourself? The captain could've sent the orders down instead."

Meera shrugged. "I think the captain wants to keep this off the books, or something. After all, it wasn't like he received a transmission from the Devastator."

"You're right," said Apollonius, even as his doubts grew. "Still, the target practice would be useful after everything that transpired at Du Hutta."

"See!" beamed Meera. "You understand why this is—"

"You should clear the hangar," snapped Apollonius. "Very least, get off my flight deck."

"Aye, aye," said Meera almost mockingly. She saluted him before leaping down from the ladder she had used to scale up to his cockpit. He watched her head for the nearest door, whistling a pleasant tune as she left. Other members of Mask Squadron, along with Valiant Flight and the Mynocks, watched Admiral Hemmen's daughter until she left the hangar.

He turned forward and began the boot-up sequence for his Headhunter. Engines, shields, and weapon systems all flashed green. Apollonius checked the ethereal rudder, smiled when it responded immediately, and then finally commed the bridge. "This is Mask Leader. Requesting takeoff from Hangar 3."

"Confirmed, Mask Leader," replied the flight deck coordinator. "Valiant Flight and Mynocks prepared for departure."

The hangar bay door whined open, the magnetic seal still engaged. Once its phasing shield changed to permit departure, all snubfighters would launch.

Apollonius mentally counted down until the second before the shielding changed. His Headhunter roared from the hangar, first to depart. He flew ten klicks forward before gliding starboard, the rest of his squadron following suit.

"Mask Squadron, this is Mask Leader. Master Jedi has detected a comm facility between Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa. She'd like it taken out of commission, so we'll strike that and then join up wherever we're needed most. Understood?"

Seven affirmatives met his orders. Apollonius smiled. The astromech unit in his fighter beeped behind him, and suddenly coordinates and trajectories appeared before him.

"Mask Squadron, follow me!"

Seven affirmatives met his order once more, enthused and excited to face combat once more. Eight Headhunters burst forward on their present trajectory, racing for their destination. If they reached it before enemy reinforcements, then Apollonius hoped they would destroy it without significant resistance.

And if they do not resist us, then they cannot kill us, he thought, pressing forward onto his control yoke just a little more.

Gladiolus watched the flight of Headhunters, microscopic to anyone else staring out the same viewport as her, as they raced for the facility floating between Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa. She had pondered whether or not to deal with the insipid installation the moment she realized the facility's sensors had detected her initial arrival. There were only two dull fools and several Gamorrean warriors aboard. The droid brains she immediately dismissed. Had she desired to reveal her presence then and there, she might have used the Force to crush the facility. But she believed the wiser course required her to manipulate resources already in the field instead of showing her hand too early. And though she did not need to destroy the facility, its absence would ease her conquest.

After all, she wanted control of Nar Shaddaa before she moved on to Nal Hutta. It was not necessary to dominate every cantina, hole, and critter on the urbanized world; she merely needed to have uncontested control of its airspace. No speeder, shuttle, or craft should be allowed to move without her express or implicit approval.

And until then, the moon is not controlled, thought Gladiolus. She turned from the viewport and started for the comms officers. They stiffened upon noticing her approach, even the Wookiee who proved more than adequate with narrow beam messaging. She planned to use that, along with her power in the Force, to shape her attack up until the First, Second, and Third Fleets ended their stealth maneuvers.

"Any updates for me?" she asked. "I do not sense everything, thanks to how the battle has been engaged."

Not a complete lie, but her attention strained whenever she focused on the full extent of the brewing conflict. Three battle groups had emerged from behind Nal Hutta and even now charged toward Nar Shaddaa. Gladiolus suspected the Headhunters sent to handle the midpoint facility would be destroyed or captured by an enemy battle group. Her eyes flickered closed for several heartbeats as she drew up some of her battle meditation power. She sunk fibers into the hearts, the minds, and the muscles of each member of Mask Squadron, as the Headhunter pilots were known. She poured into them the belief their mission would guarantee victory, and thus death in the face of victory was more glorious than anything. Some did not respond as she would like, but most took heart with the message and pushed onward.

"None, ma'am," said an officer. Her eyes peeled open. "The Fourth and Sixth have maintained comm silence as commanded, though I'm surprised they've maintained it."

"Oh? Did you expect them to beg me for commands? Uncertain of themselves after fighting in Du Hutta and Orondia?"

"Well, no ma'am," the comms officer muttered. He looked away, abashed. "I only feared, since they don't have as much experience, that they'd want orders beyond whatever they already received."

Gladiolus hummed. She understood the officer's concern now, even if she thought it unwarranted. With Orondia and Du Hutta, she had granted the Fourth and the Sixth enough latitude with their orders that their successes proved their ability to accept limited instructions, develop a battle plan, improvise after combat began, and emerge victorious. She would trust them with their continued assault on Nar Shaddaa. She knew not who amongst them had realized she would desire a direct course to Nal Hutta. When she learned whom, she would pin a medal upon them and hope the fate etched into stone for the swampy world of the Hutts would not disgust them.

"For now, keep an ear out for any requests for orders," commanded Gladiolus. "But I do not think the Fourth or the Sixth will require them." She paused, considering her options. So far, she had no cause to deploy any of her other fleets. And yet something not itched the back of her mind. It was not a Sith or a Jedi attempting to sense her with the Force. Attempts had been made, especially after her victory at Toydaria, but that was not what she sensed.

Reinforcements, perhaps?

Gladiolus was not so foolish as to think she would take both Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta before reinforcements established beyond her encirclement could jump into the Y'Toub system to defend the heart of Hutt power. That was why she adjusted the placement of the fleets still under stealth operations.

That must be what I sense, Gladiolus decided with a soft sigh. To the watching officer, she added, "Inform the First and Second Fleets by narrow-band comms that they should prepare for potential arrivals by hyperspace. If they can place interdictors seven hundred thousand kilometers from their present locations at each point where a hyperlane reaches the Y'Toub system, we can neutralize the threat of reinforcements and ambushes."

"Understood, ma'am."

She lingered until the message was sent. Gladiolus stepped away from the gathered terminals, focusing her mind on the foe. Neither the fleets moving from Nal Hutta to Nar Shaddaa nor the defenders of the urbanized moon had detected the communication. Not anyone who might act upon them, anyways. But that did not mean the transmission had been entirely unnoticed. Someone had detected the transmission, but they held no true love for the Hutts nor for her.

Fascinating… How fascinating.

Gladiolus smirked. She removed her comlink from her belt and dialed Landren. "Prep the Dearg Due for immediate dust off. I have a sneak to recruit."

She left the bridge with Landren's exasperated sigh filling her ears.

Xerthin squinted as she glanced from monitor to monitor, following the evolving battle occurring high above, beyond the orbit of Nar Shaddaa. She had followed the crusade against the Hutt slave trade since its beginning, being one of the first to learn of the initial ambush and raid that had, until Sleheyron, been typical of the crusade. She did not believe that a Jedi truly led the venture, even if the few tales that escaped described a Jedi in crystalline detail. Something about everything smelled wrong to her—and she would know about smell. As a Quermian, Xerthin did not possess a nose on her small, gaunt head atop her elongated neck. Instead, her olfactory senses were bound to her lithe fingers. Fingers that had become her livelihood. She had refined their capacity on Nar Shaddaa, and then decided to never leave.

Life was simpler away from home, even if she did long for the gardens of her youth, when she had another name and another passion.

An angry ping drew her attention to a particular monitor. When the first fleets arrived, she had pried at her connection to the relay station between Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa. That had revealed not two fleets, as the sensor arrays located on Nar Shaddaa told her, but five. Given that about two weeks ago the crusaders had struck five worlds simultaneously, she presumed they were the ones attacking.

Yet their focus is on Nar Shaddaa, not Nal Hutta, Xerthin thought, befuddled by how the battle unfolded. Why would they focus on the moon and not the planet? Certainly they wish to make a point by taking the Hutt homeworld…

Unless there's something I'm missing.

The puzzle troubled her, but that was not why the ping sounded. Something had deployed from one of the hidden fleets, established near where one traveling from Toydaria would arrive. Given the signature and size of the vessel detected, Xerthin presumed it was a shuttle.

Her skin crawled as a singular realization swept through her. Someone knew about her. And worse, they wished to eliminate her. That was the only reason why a shuttle would depart one of the hidden fleets. They knew about her. They wanted to eliminate her. And somehow, someway, they knew where she was.

The next ten minutes passed in a flurry of rushed packing and panicked stumbling. Xerthin glanced repeatedly at her door, wondering when the other shoe, as humans said, would fall. She tried to shake her fear, but it clung to her like a perfume.

By the time she finished and was prepared, Xerthin feared she was too slow. Too late.

And then a knock rang through her apartment. She froze, elongated neck turning almost like a snake descending from branches above. Xerthin counted back from ten. At one, a second knock rang through the apartment.

"Open up, please!" sang a feminine voice. Xerthin took seven steps toward the door before she stopped herself, freezing as she realized what she was about to do. "Please, will you not open the door, Xerthin? I know you're there~"

She resisted the urge to deny the voice. They knew she had not escaped, yet they had not broken through her door. She stared at the door, suspicious. "What… What do you want?" she asked, hoping she was not about to make a fatal mistake.

"I wish for you to join me," the voice said. "Unlike the rest of the fools in this system, you noticed the arrival of my fleet. And not just the two fleets busy hammering the defenses gathered to blockade my approach to Nar Shaddaa. No. You know of the other three, those hidden from the defenders. Those prepared to strike not against this moon, but against any foolish effort made to reinforce the defenders. Or as you're thinking, the Hutt homeworld. The gem of their space, the world from which they dictate as they like to the filth and scum of the galaxy."

Xerthin breathed out heavily. She wanted, quite suddenly and urgently, to open the door and accept the offer from the woman beyond. But something restrained her. It was though she knew evil lurked beyond the threshold, waiting for its first chance to ensnare her.

"Will you truly allow me to stand out here and wait, Xerthin? I cannot believe you would be so cruel to me."

The Quermian shivered. The fiend knew her name. She gulped, reached forward, and opened her door.

A tall woman with burning yellow eyes and a face marred with tattoos swept into the room. Her black cloak fluttered around her ankles. Her gaze briefly burned into Xerthin before turning away, scanning the rest of the apartment.

"I see that your operations are deeper within," the woman said. Her voice wavered between velvet soft and grittier than shattered glass. "I would like to see—"

"I've already destroyed everything!"

The dark woman paused. Her yellow eyes, burning with terrible sulfur, swiveled to Xerthin. She withdrew several steps, crashing into the wall behind her. Her head wavered atop her elongated neck.

"You did not destroy it. No. You've done all you can to pack it away, so that you could flee my coming." The woman chuckled. "How quaint. You truly believed you could escape me."

"You should be more interested in the battle above, not met!" petitioned Xerthin.

"Perhaps I should," the dark woman admitted. "But you were the sole soul on this overbuilt rock that detected the full extent of my naval might. You understand that more ships remain held in wait than committed to the fight. You, unlike them, are useful to my cause."

"I won't—"

"I'm not giving you the choice," the dark woman snapped. Her eyes blazed with wrath. "You will serve me, or you will die. Any other choice has been lost to you. Had you managed to escape me here, perhaps I would have taken another course on your account. But you failed to flee before my arrival, and so your fate has been sealed."

For several long seconds, Xerthin shook. Everything said by the dark woman rung true in her mind. After all, Xerthin had realized from the moment that shuttle left one of the hidden fleets that something dreadful headed for her. But she had hoped that even if they arrived, she might have a chance to escape.

No chance, no hope, nothing, Xerthin thought bitterly. Why, oh why, did I ever leave home?

She knew why. She wanted to see more, to do more. Be more, even. Xerthin could have remained in the gardens of her homeworld and been safe. But she had chosen the chance at some meager greatness over any possibility of safety.

And now here stands the consequence of my ambitious greed. I desired beyond the normality of my people, and now I stand before my destroyer.

"Is that your answer?" asked the dark woman. She withdrew a lightsaber from beneath her cloak, thumb resting over a narrow depression. "Have you chosen death?"

Xerthin opened her mouth. Nothing emerged. Yet her heart rang with a single fear.

The dark woman smirked and pocketed her weapon. "That's what I expected, Xerthin. You have my gratitude."

The Dearg Due slipped away from the surface of Nar Shaddaa, a thief in the night. Gladiolus glanced at Xerthin, the Quermian she had captured, as she fidgeted in a cargo hold. She tapped her foot, considering what she should do about her prisoner. Though the tech would not happily serve, she had chosen her life over any principles she could have prescribed to. Time would pass before Xerthin fell into line. But fall into line she would. That Gladiolus believed with grim certainty.

As they passed through the atmosphere, the Sith Lord headed to another cargo bay. She kneeled, closed her eyes, and reached out with the Force. First Gladiolus inspected the state of the Fourth and Sixth Fleets. Both remained firm and resolute, though the latter had taken more severe casualties. Mask Squadron had succeeded in their mission, though they had died to the man. She would honor their sacrifice, once Nar Shaddaa was taken and Nal Hutta punished. The destroyed station would make her next moves more effective. More destructive.

More real.

Once finished inspecting her fleets in combat, Gladiolus perused the Hutt fleets. They continued to hold against the unrelenting onslaught, but they would break. Eventually. Some ships would hold out longer than others, but they lacked the numbers and the experience that her fleets possessed. Even the Fourth and the Sixth, relative newcomers to her crusade, had experience that these ships and their crews lacked. Gladiolus was disappointed the Hutts permitted their home fleet to grow so decrepit, with ships centuries old and poorly maintained. Had they been unchallenged in their corner of space for so long that they had forgotten what it meant to face a true foe? Or had she prepared her forces so well they had the ability to bulldoze through any and all defenses raised to stop them?

They would break, and that was all that mattered to her. Gladiolus finally swept through her three waiting fleets. The crews of the First and Second Fleets struggled with their anticipation, wondering when the time would arrive to join the fight. Gladiolus frowned at their anticipation; while she appreciated they wanted to continue fighting in her name, the choice to hold them back was a conscious one. She suspected a Hutt fleet would arrive to try and support the defenders. The First or the Second would be perfectly placed to destroy them.

It was the Third Fleet that made her proud. They waited patiently, knowing their "Jedi" commander had a reason to not move them into the fray. Unlike the other fleets, they understood Gladiolus. They might be ignorant to the truth that she was a Sith Lord, minus her admiral Yumerra, but they knew she was willing to be patient—and that she would happily strike the enemy harshly and swiftly. To be held back meant she wanted something special done.

Something that they had not been commanded to act upon.

She smiled. The Third was ready for the next act, especially since something crawling in the back of her night suggested that the First and Second would soon be busy while the Fourth and Sixth continued in their work.

"Landren," Gladiolus spoke aloud, knowing her voice would reach him. "Return us to the Devastator. The next stage of my conquest is ready to begin."

Four hours had passed since the arrival of Darth Gladiolus's five fleets in the Y'Toub system. The ships remaining in the local fleets burned, their final remaining guns blasting away as much into the void as at enemy vessels. Both the Fourth and the Sixth had taken losses, though neither measured them above thirty percent. Gladiolus confessed herself displeased by their relatively high casualty rates, but the Sixth was comprised of volunteers from elsewhere in the galaxy and the Fourth had always been intended for higher casualty rates than the first three fleets she assembled.

The familiar footsteps of Admiral Yumerra approached Gladiolus. "My lord, preparations are complete. The Third is ready to move on Nal Hutta."

Gladiolus nodded. "Then move. Inform Hemmen he's to shift ten thousand kilometers toward our prior position."

"What of Niem?"

"The First remains where they are. He has asked me why you hold him back instead of deploying him to support the Fourth and Sixth." Yumerra lowered her voice. "He believes you permitted too many from those fleets to die fighting the local Hutt fleet."

Gladiolus turned and raised an eyebrow. "Do you agree, admiral?"

The albino Twi'lek held firm. "I think losses could have been lower, but you have held back three fleets for a reason. Likely you suspect reinforcements will arrive from outside the Y'Toub system, and you would prefer we have forces arrayed to crush them from behind."

The Sith Lord smiled. "So you see the plan. Inform Niem that should any Hutt fleets arrive, he is free to destroy them at his leisure. After that, he may join the Fourth and Sixth, if he is so desperate to continue fighting the foe."

"Understood, my lord."

Gladiolus returned her attention to events unfolding across the Y'Toub system as Admiral Yumerra walked away. She knew the time was short. Soon reinforcements would arrive. Among them would be Hutts, and those Hutts she desired for a single purpose. They would witness the destruction of Nal Hutta. They would rage, they would despair, but they would all be well informed that resistance to her campaign to end their slave trade was futile. Their great-great-great grand spawn had the chance to be the fortunate Hutts, to cleanse the evil of their race's past and forget a new identity for their race as a whole.

"Helm," Gladiolus commanded with a booming voice, echoing through the bridge. "Move the Devastator toward Nal Hutta. Inform the rest of the Third they're to remain in their present positions until we're… thirteen lengths from them. Then they can follow, but they must maintain all secrecy possible."

No verbal acknowledgment met her command. They had no need for that banal reply. Hearts and souls alike moved as one, directed by the command of their leader.

The Sith Lord stood and watched as the murky sphere of Nal Hutta slowly drew closer. She closed her eyes, reached out, and smiled. Her plan for the Hutt world moved on, undetected by those who should be most sensitive to her deception. Many Hutts on Nal Hutta persisted in the delusion that she would be turned back. They thought the inevitable tide of history could be resisted, avoided. Some even held to the delusion that the Hutts would outlast the Jedi and their Republic.

And so they remain fools, even as death casts its shadow over them, they… remain.

Cries of surprise suddenly arose across the bridge. Gladiolus held her focus upon Nal Hutta, knowing where her present course ended. Her journeys once the Hutts were brought to heel remained a mystery. She had not peered through the murky mysteries of the Force and the future. But she was certain of where her path forward led, and certain that whatever trouble that arose amongst her people would not stop her.

"Ma'am! Ma'am!" an officer cried out. Gladiolus blinked and realized others had called out to her as well. She glanced over her shoulder as two Wookiees rose to their feet and roared. "Incoming contacts! Hutt reinforcements!"

Gladiolus turned back to the viewport before her, closed her eyes, and reached out with the Force. She sensed four small fleets, all separated by tens or hundreds of thousands of kilometers of empty space. Two had appeared quite near the Second's interdictors, while a third almost dropped on top of the First Fleet. The last group was behind the moving Third Fleet, near enough that any watchful commander would notice their burning sublight engines and have cause to open fire.

"Keep the Devastator on its present course," Gladiolus declared. "Have the rest of the Third turnabout to engulf the nearest reinforcements." She turned and found that Admiral Yumerra had returned. She lowered her voice. "Tell Niem and Hemmen to open fire once they have the best opening they'll receive. The reinforcements will be moving either to Nar Shaddaa, or they will come chase us. I am more concerned they will make for the moon than for us." She smiled crookedly. "I can handle them. But my attention will soon be divided, and I have no wish to be drawn away from what I must focus upon. You understand, yes?"

"Naturally, my lord." Admiral Yumerra leaned in close. "Tell me, what do you plan to inflict upon the Hutts? The rest might not know it, but I know you have something truly terrible in mind for them."

"Not for them. For their world." Gladiolus glanced at Nal Hutta, much closer than it had been before. "I will inflict upon them a punishment that they will never forget. I may be drawn into wars against the Hutts who escape me, here and today. But that is a possibility for the future. To not act as I have decided will ensure that the Hutts will forever think they might turn back the tide of my crusade."

"And you will not permit that."

"Aye. I cannot permit that." Gladiolus sighed. "See about my orders, admiral. If you wish, transport yourself to the HMS Monitor. They're prepared to act as the fleet flagship under your command, since you have served me directly instead."

"I'll contact Hemmen and Niem en route, then." Yumerra bowed to Gladiolus and then left the bridge. The Sith Lord breathed out slowly.

The endgame was ready, now. All that had to be done was lure the Hutts into one last foolish act.

"Bring us into orbit over Nal Hutta, and then contact their planetary authorities," Gladiolus commanded. "Do not answer their questions. Only open a connection until I decide who I wish to speak with." She glanced at the nearest comms officer. "I also want us linked to the Republic HoloNet. But do not project anything that occurs until I command otherwise. I wish for the whole galaxy to witness what we do here on this day."

The officer blinked before grinning. "Yes, ma'am!"

As Hutt fleets clashed against Gladiolus's forces, her flagship entered orbit above Nal Hutta. A thousand Hutts all attempted to contact her at once, all seeking enough of her favor to survive whatever onslaught she was about to inflict upon their undesired race. Unknown to them all, her judgment had already been cast. All that was left was to inflict her punishment upon them. She gazed upon their dreadful, swampy world as her comm officers struggled against the urge to inform her of the incoming contacts and to send a polite declining message. They, like the rest of her bridge crew, understood that the Devastator would not entertain the demands and requests for peace and surrender.

Only the will of their master, the one many doubted had ever truly been a Jedi, mattered now. Once her judgment was cast, all was decided.

Gladiolus tapped her foot. She knew the Hutts wished to speak with her. The trouble was she did not know what to say. It would be all too easy to inflict her judgment and call it a day. Her fleets were busy fighting or mopping up theirs. Victory was certain, even if hours might pass before the final Hutt ship was disabled or destroyed. Nar Shaddaa had not signaled any surrender yet, unlike Nal Hutta, but that would come. If the Hutts of Nal Hutta already desired her favor, then soon those of their urbanized moon too would petition for mercy.

Any relief for Nal Hutta was too far distant to change the course of events now.

Should I detonate them now? Gladiolus wondered. She glanced at her officers. But I haven't given the command to link our systems with the Republic HoloNet. What's the point of bringing the Hutts to heel as I wish if the people of the galaxy do not witness it?

She breathed out slowly. "Are there any Hutts worth speaking with?" Gladiolus asked, still gazing upon Nal Hutta. "I do not wish to waste my time with some petty gangster who thinks himself important."

Seconds passed before one comm officer said, "I have a 'Gardulla Besadii the Elder'," the officer said. "She claims to be on… vacation from her holdings on Tatooine in the Arkanis Sector."

Gladiolus hummed, even as her skin tingled at the mention of 'Tatooine'. She made note of the name and set it aside for another time. If the Force had an interest in it, then so should she. She might reject the Cosmic Force's power to sway and influence minds, but she could not deny that following the currents of the Force, from time to time, guided her.

"I'll speak with this 'Gardulla'," Gladiolus confirmed, stepping away from the viewport. She turned to another officer. "Connect us to the HoloNet. I wish for the galaxy to witness everything to come."

The officer nodded briskly, working the Wookiees present to integrate the Devastator's communication systems with the intragalactic transmission system.

Seconds later, a feminine-appearing Hutt appeared before Gladiolus. Projected in the same faint blue coloration of all holocomm technology, the Hutt still had hints of green and beige, betraying the massive slug's immense age.

"So you are the one causing trouble in our space," the Hutt drawled. Though Gladiolus knew not a shred of Huttese, she could understand this Gardulla. And thanks to whatever the HoloNet possessed, she presumed her viewers, whether in real time or after the fact, would understand the Hutt as well. "You are bold to appear here."

"Bold. Brazen. Many could assign these words to me, but I would call myself a crusader. One who is unrelenting in the war for justice and freedom. I have come to the Y'Toub system to deliver my righteous punishment upon the Hutts."

"For slavery alone?"

"That is justification enough for what I shall do, Gardulla. But I imagine the people of the galaxy are more familiar than I with every deprivation the Hutts have engaged in."

Gardulla paused. The Hutt reeked of hesitance, yet she would not stand down. Not that Gladiolus would stand down against a Hutt.

"I have studied your actions, Jedi. You have always struck against slavers and our practice of slavery." The Hutt then smirked with her foul wide mouth. "I wonder what your Council would say about your actions."

Gladiolus shrugged. "They are welcome to remove me from the Order. But I will not relent. Not when I have brought your strength to heel and am prepared to seize your most precious world." She then smirked malevolently. "Unless I take another action toward Nal Hutta directly."

"…another action? You've already surrounded us, separating us from Known Space."

"I have prepared a special surprise for Nal Hutta. One that even now awaits my command. With but a single order, I can render your world utterly uninhabitable. I can even ruin all presently upon the surface."

"There are more than Hutts here! You would kill innocents! Slaves!"

"A price that must be paid, if necessary." Gladiolus sighed, as if troubled by what she would soon do. "But I have strengthened myself so that I can act as necessary. Witnessing the casual brutality and horrors of the Outer Rim has convinced me that some cannot be saved. Salvation is meant for those deserving, and the Hutts have left me… wanting."

Gardulla scowled. "What do you have planned, Jedi?"

"Your annihilation, Gardulla. Beginning here, I shall cleanse the galaxy of your taint. A thousand years from now, the name 'Hutt' will only be spoken in derision or mockery. None will bother with the hushed tones normally reserved for those who reach too high." Gladiolus dropped her glamour, allowing her burning sulfur eyes and the black markings across her face to appear. She smirked as the Hutt gasped, recognizing the signs of a Sith Lord. "I may not be a Jedi, fool, but I can recognize the rot of evil where it flourishes.

"Farewell, Gardulla. Farewell, Hutts of Nal Hutta. The sun now sets upon your world for the last time."

Gladiolus snapped her finger. Three things occurred, simultaneously: the connection with Gardulla cut, the transmission to the HoloNet shifted from the bridge of the Devastator to the external sensors, and the thousand atomics spread across Nal Hutta detonated as one.

She gazed upon the swampy world as blinding blooms of atomic fury exploded across the surface of Nal Hutta. They burned bright and then faded, angry grey and orange spots dotting the planet below. The bright dots warmed her heart, even as the wretched scream of millions burning filled the Force. Gladiolus shivered, seeing all she had wrought.

Barely twenty seconds later, Nar Shaddaa surrendered. The Hutt fleets followed suit.

Y'Toub was pacified.