Three Encounters on Ryloth

Gladiolus watched the shuttle settle in her flag hangar aboard the Devastator. She stared at the craft, sensing the swirling emotions of the four admirals aboard: Niem, who she first encountered following her foray through Chiss Space; Hemmen, who she rescued from slavery before her mind became set upon crusade; Maithas, a troubled volunteer from the Coreworld of Chandrila; and Bem, a former slave who once captained a star cruiser not too dissimilar from her Devastator. Yumerra stood behind her, dressed in a freshly pressed black uniform with red piping that almost resembled "Corellian Bloodstripes", or so Landren had called the lines along the trousers. He had left shortly after the atomics detonated, taking a shuttle gifted to him.

He should be standing here with me, Gladiolus thought, hands clenching behind her back. Landren should have remained by my side. I let him go, for I know he will return to my side eventually. But he should have never ever left my side.

She set aside her anger toward Landren as the shuttle's boarding ramp lowered. Hemmen descended first, dressed in a white variation of Yumerra's black uniform. His lekku curled over his shoulders, the points resting atop the few badges pinned to his chest.

Next descended Niem. The man looked healthier than ever before. If Gladiolus knew differently, she could have been tricked into believing war agreed with the man. What she suspected to be the truth was that he had enjoyed his return to piracy, an action that defined most of her crusade against the Hutts. Now that the conflict was over, she hoped placing him in charge of the Y'Toub system would maintain both his loyalty and the comfort she suspected he had grown accustomed to. Otherwise, she would replace him.

Next to descend was Bem. The former slave had a scarred face and a bionic eye that glowed red. Most of the Zabrak's horns had been dulled or broken during whatever service he had been forced through. He wore no proper uniform, but a sleeveless grey tunic and a pair of worker trousers. Only his boots, polished to reflection, matched his rank.

Last to emerge was Maithas. Tall and lithe with reddish hair and a half-cape over his shoulders, Gladiolus could almost smell the man's wealth. Even so, she could not help but respect him. He could have remained on Chandrila, content to remain safe and prosperous in whatever livelihood awaited his return. Instead, he had been inspired by her crusade to join and fight for the freedom his Republic boasted of protecting.

Given his churning emotions and harsh scowl, he did not approve of her recent actions.

"Good. You're all here." Sulfuric eyes drifted from admiral to admiral. They all flinched, witnessing her true form for the first time. "I will be leaving the fleet soon. I cannot say when you will next be mobilized, but I expect the fleets to be maintained." She turned to Maithas. "Other than the volunteer Fourth, if you no longer desire to wage my crusade, admiral."

Maithas sighed heavily. "There's a reason atomics were banned long ago," he said, voice alarmingly soft. "I cannot speak for everyone in my fleet, but I did not join to fight for you. I realized something important was being done in the Outer Rim. Something that aligned with everything I believed, and proved that though the Republic might fail as an institution, its values and ideals still burn bright elsewhere in the galaxy."

The Sith Lord hummed, smiling softly. "I welcome you and the rest of the Fourth to remain with us. Regardless, do inform all within your fleet that should they wish to return to their prior life, I will not hold it against them."

Then again, they might not have a choice when the next war comes, Gladiolus thought, unwilling to follow that train of thought aloud. The four before her might suspect another war, but they would never predict her true target.

Maithas grunted. "I will tell them, though I do not think many will depart once they know that you are bound to leave us on personal business instead of disbanding this force you have gathered and hardened." His gaze wandered to the Dearg Due, berthed nearby. "Is that scoundrel Landren still present? Or has he fled your service?"

"We have parted ways. But I believe he will return to my side eventually."

Hemmen hummed at that while Niem nodded almost fitfully. Gladiolus glanced at the other admirals. Yumerra's face remained blank, though skepticism flowed through her with great potency. Bem remained as a statue, unaffected by all around him. He caught her eye and raised an eyebrow, as though challenging her to say something.

"Disappointing," said Maithas. "Was it because of the atomics?"

Gladiolus did not reply. The answer would be obvious to her admirals if they bothered to think. After all, Landren had been her first follower. His choices and actions had brought Niem into her fold, had led her to attack the slaver fleets that freed Bem and Yumerra, and had even brought Hemmen into the fold by accident. Only Maithas of the lot had no connection to Landren, but the Sith Lord sensed the Chandrilan's regard for the departed scoundrel.

"So that's how it was." Maithas sighed. "Did you assign the task of moving them onto Nal Hutta to him?"

"I did," Gladiolus whispered. "Only he was trusted enough to carry through that task. And unfortunately, the five of you could not be spared for something along those lines. Your presence amongst your fleet was vital to our successes."

"Yet you already planned to destroy Nal Hutta."

"I did. Do you believe it undeserved?"

Maithas hesitated with his answer. His lips pursed and twitched from side to side. Seconds passed before he said, "I would have never deployed atomics against sentients. Yet I find my horror comes from how many were used and not their usage alone. I could justify the choice to myself. A single warhead to bring about peace. A threat, held over their heads. But a thousand? And to use them without warning? You have burned Nal Hutta to ashes and painted yourself as a danger to any world unwilling to align with your will."

"It's more glass than ash," said Gladiolus, struggling to not be amused over the prospect of forcing entire systems to follow her. "The simultaneous detonations burned hot enough to turn—"

"I know how glass is made," said Maithas with a harsh scowl. "What I had hoped you would focus on, ma'am, is that you have caused us all undue trouble. Detonating one atomic could be forgiven. Perhaps even two or three would be fine. But a thousand? Irradiating a whole world? The Jedi Council and the Senate will not sit by—"

Gladiolus rolled her eyes. "I fear not what the Council or the Senate might do. They have no army. And once I leave you, the Jedi will seek to follow me, not these fleets."

"You do not fear they will seek to disband this navy?"

"Only if they're in the pocket of the Hutts. Who else benefits from our disbandment?" Gladiolus then smirked widely. "Wouldn't that be mad? The Jedi, pawns not of the Senate, but the Hutts."

"…that does sound mad."

"Yet that would be the logical conclusion from what you suggested, Maithas. They have no cause to disband this navy unless they belong to the Hutts, or if they no longer retain the sovereignty they pride themselves in possessing."

Maithas grunted. He turned to the other admirals. None looked willing to back his concerns about the Jedi or the Senate. Gladiolus knew the Jedi would not trouble her fleet. Perhaps they might detect that Yumerra knew the truth about her being a Sith Lord, but Gladiolus had no plans to inform her admirals where she planned to travel. If Landren had remained with her, she would have spoken a few suggestions to him. Unlike with Ziost and Hutt Space, nothing yanked at her awareness. She had the feeling she should pay a visit to Tatooine, another world suffering under the tyranny of a Hutt. Yet it was not merely the Hutt there that drew her interest. Something in the Force clung tightly to that world, a blazing brand that only revealed itself when she focused her mind on it. Given how the presence seared, she avoided thinking of the world. Her drifting attention risked her enemies, Sith and Jedi alike, from turning their gazes in that direction. And the longer both remained ignorant as to what she had discovered, the longer she could delay her jaunt to Tatooine.

"If I may make a suggestion," said Hemmen, "I recommend you pay a visit to Ryloth, Master Jedi. Many who believe in your crusade call that world home, Twi'lek or not. You could find more allies among them, including those who can help sanitize your reputation at large."

"I thank you for the suggestion, admiral, but I fear it will be too late for that." Gladiolus then shrugged as if the opinions of the galactic sheep did not matter to her. "If anyone ever disagreed with my prior course, what has been done to Nal Hutta shall confirm their feelings. And if they did agree, then they will find a means by which to justify my actions—just as I have already justified them."

"I understand. But still, I would suggest you consider Ryloth as a destination. If not immediately, then perhaps in the future."

Gladiolus nodded consideringly. "I may visit it regardless. I have spent long enough in Hutt Space that, by my own fashion, I have lost sight of the galaxy as a whole." She sensed Yumerra's watching gaze on the back of her head. "Plus, I doubt my enemies would expect me to visit there. They will likely anticipate I continue my actions against the Hutts and slavers at large. Kessel, no doubt. Perhaps other worlds spread throughout the Outer Rim."

Hemmen offered a soft, almost relieved smile. "Admiral Yumerra and myself shall see to Kessel. The tales I have heard of their mines…. That world may be worse than anything within Hutt Space."

Gladiolus grunted. Though she was now dearly tempted to inspect Kessel and learn if all she had been told of the spice mining world was true, she could not fall for the obvious bait. Hemmen and Yumerra should manage anything prepared around Kessel. And should either of her enemies come sniffing about, they would quickly discover that she had long made her departure from the presence of those who still fought for her ideals.

"Then I will leave the business of handling Kessel to you and Yumerra, Hemmen."

They both nodded. Though they were both Twi'leks, Gladiolus sensed enough differences between them to recognize their race was much like her own. People of different natures arose. And while they could work together toward a common aim, they could also come into conflict.

While I have no cause to worry over these two, I cannot trust that Ryloth will be wholly accepting of me, as Hemmen appears to believe. I recall a Twi'lek among the slavers on Ord Mantell. If one of their kind can stomach helping to enslave others, then there must certainly be those operating on Ryloth with the same opinions—and desires.

"However," continued Hemmen, "I do have another request." He turned back to the admiralty shuttle and called out in the Twi'lek tongue. Gladiolus watched as within seconds, a young Twi'lek woman came storming down the boarding ramp.

"Your daughter?" she asked Hemmen.

The admiral nodded proudly. "Meera made the request, though I told her that she would need to pass your tests first."

Gladiolus blinked. She glanced between father and daughter as it dawned upon her that the latter desired to travel with her. And Hemmen, trusting Gladiolus thanks to her choices and actions in the past, had agreed with a singular caveat: the Sith Lord needed to express her approval before Meera could travel the stars with her.

She nearly laughed. Moments ago, when the shuttle had been landing, Gladiolus had stood and wished that Landren had not left her. Yet now before her stood a potentially worthy replacement. Gladiolus considered Meera, running an armored finger over her marked chin. The Twi'lek held her gaze, unflinching in the face of sulfuric yellow eyes ringed in crimson.

"If you wish to travel with me, then I will require three things from you," Gladiolus began. "Firstly, you will never contradict me publically. Secondly, provide advice as you think reasonable, but do not complain if I reject or modify your ideas."

"And third?" asked Meera, entirely too hopeful.

Gladiolus turned to stare at the waiting Dearg Due. "You have ten minutes to complete a preflight check and have her ready to depart, hovering on repulsorlifts."

Meera hesitated only a moment before she nodded, turned away crisply, and scurried to the Dearg Due. Gladiolus began a mental countdown, watching the Twi'lek woman vanish up the boarding ramp.

"I'm surprised you agreed," said Hemmen.

"Landren, by his fashion, forced himself upon me. I was in a weakened position. One that he rescued me from, even if his actions had been unnecessary."

Hemmen grunted. "That sounds like him, alright." The Twi'lek admiral turned thoughtful. "How did you meet? He was vague when I asked, and I do not believe you ever explained it to me."

"I thought him amusing. That, and he happened to be human at the right time. I was above Muunilinst at the time, and I did not trust any Muun to safeguard my secrets. Any they might learn about, anyways."

"…should we fear the Banking Clans?" asked Hemmen. "I can't imagine they would openly support slave operations."

"Openly is the operative word," said Maithas. "The Banking Clans have their hands in nearly every industry and pursuit across the galaxy, both within the Republic and beyond its borders. Some even believe they have connections in the Unknown Regions."

"They might," said Gladiolus. She considered what she could reveal about her origins before adding, "I have connections there, since I passed through their space before I ever reached the Known Galaxy."

Maithas blinked. "You're from the Unknown Regions?"

"I am. My world is quite undeveloped as a result of our isolation. Only one man from this part of the galaxy ever found us, and that was thanks to the guidance of the Force."

The Chandrilan volunteer nodded thoughtfully. Gladiolus glanced at her other admirals. Niem looked around disinterested, already knowing about her strange origins. Yumerra and Hemmen looked almost impressed by the news. It appeared her effort to masquerade as a Jedi had worked effectively enough to mask her origins. That or they had never considered humans lived outside of Known Space. Bem cared not. Freedom was his primary value. Anything beyond that was not worth bothering with.

The Dearg Due suddenly thrummed. Gladiolus glanced over, watching as the spindly landing struts withdrew into the matte black shuttle. It hovered there, the boarding ramp half extended. The comm crackled and Meera proudly announced, "I did it, ma'am! Eight minutes and twenty-three seconds!"

Gladiolus blinked. She nearly broke out chuckling. Though she had been skeptical of Hemmen's daughter, Meera had proved herself to the Sith Lord. She strolled over to the extended boarding ramp, turned back to her admirals, and said, "Farewell for now. Do not allow what we have fought and gained to be lost in my absence."

And with that, she stepped aboard. Once the ramp was closed and sealed, the Dearg Due turned and departed the HMS Devastator. Within a few minutes, they leaped to hyperspace without a final destination planned.

"Ryloth, huh?" said Meera once Gladiolus told the Twi'lek about what Admiral Hemmen had said. The vortex of hyperspace filled the viewport behind the pilot. She looked thoughtful at the notion of visiting her homeworld. If Gladiolus recalled the young woman's movements during the Sith Lord's crusade correctly, Meera had paid a visit to Ryloth then. Some who had fought and died during the recently christened Battles of Y'Toub had come from Ryloth. "I'm surprised you'd like to visit the Twi'lek homeworld."

"I decided to entertain the idea because there could be leads there. Your people have been targeted for the slave trade. So either I can find those who are participatory in the galactic system or find those who believe in my cause. Those who will look at Y'Toub and the end of my crusade and feel ashamed they did not join when they could."

Meera nodded. "I should pay a visit to the families of those who died fighting for you. Mask Squadron, who destroyed that middle facility, left the local defense force. They'll require action reports." She then smiled pleasantly, as though that would be Gladiolus's responsibility and not the young Twi'lek who recruited the pilots.

"They'll thank you for the service, then," said the Sith Lord. Meera's expression fell, betrayed. "You recruited them to my cause. It is because of you that they fought, admittedly on my behalf, at Y'Toub."

"Yet you gave the command which led to their deaths."

"That is what it means to lead. But you are the vector that led to their fates."

Meera crossed her arms and scowled. "You could join me. I'll do all the speaking—since you're shy."

Gladiolus recognized the bait. She knew the young Twi'lek was trying to force the Sith Lord's hand on the matter. And yet she could not help but arise to said bait. "I would not call myself shy, Meera. But I have more important matters than—"

"You have no plans at all," Meera said cheekily. "Else you would have asked me questions. Ryloth is home, and who better to ask for help than a local?"

The Sith Lord sighed. "If meeting with the leadership of the local defense force can make Ryloth more useful toward my aims, then fine. I will meet with them. But for any other errand I must run on Ryloth, you cannot join me."

"Why not?" asked the young Twi'lek, her voice taking on that edge of anger and hatred at being treated unfairly.

"Because I do not know who will attempt to target me," said Gladiolus. "Recall that an assassin managed to board my flagship at Sleheyron. They were repelled then. But what about the next time? What about the Jedi, who will view my actions as a stain upon their honor? You cannot promise that one of their number does not prowl Ryloth, hoping my interest in the galactic slave trade will bring me there—and thus into their trap."

Meera crossed her arms and grumbled. Gladiolus sensed the frustration within the young Twi'lek, along with a sense of distrust and a shred of understanding. That last shred was what Meera hated the most, amusingly. The girl had enough sense to recognize the proper course, but was young enough to buck against it.

"And if you do this, I will have a task for you," continued Gladiolus. She nearly grinned at how Meera perked up. "I will move on from Ryloth after a few days. I have no desire to be dragged into local politics or be forced to play colonial governor. Your task is to determine where I shall go next."

"You can count on me for that!" boasted Meera. "I'll even have a few options, so Your Ladyship can decide!"

"Lordship," corrected Gladiolus. "I'll explain that another time if you remain curious." She turned from the cockpit, ignoring a confused protest. "Inform me when we reach Ryloth. I will be meditating until then."

Ryloth was a world split in its appearance. Sandy rock faced the star while the dark side of the planet was coated in tundra and thick ice. The sight of an inhabited world that did not spin upon its axis surprised the Sith Lord. But then she had presumed any world that could nurture intelligent life like humans would follow some rules that governed Earth's ability to protect life.

Gladiolus watched as dark slivers against one of Ryloth's five small moons grew into Z-95 Headhunters like those piloted by the departed Mask Squadron. They roared forward in their approach, positioned to flank if necessary.

"They're hailing us, ma'am." Meera grimaced. "Their comments are not that friendly."

"Send transponder codes, then. If they wish to speak with us politely, then they can provide somewhere for us to land."

Meera grunted. Her hands moved swiftly across the console before her, sending the transponder codes as commanded. Seconds passed as the Headhunters blew past them, coming about to target their rear. Gladiolus reached out with the Force. She sensed no hostility from the Headhunter pilots. Only the grim determination to follow orders and complete their mission, if necessary. That mission, thankfully, did not include attempting to vape the Dearg Due. They merely acted as trained to handle potentially hostile ships.

A few minutes passed before Meera suddenly blew out a long sigh. She turned to Gladiolus with a wide smile. "They've approved us for landing."

"Good. Take us in."

Meera nodded, already turning back to her work. Gladiolus stood and watched as the young Twi'lek piloted the ancient shuttle to their assigned landing destination. She sensed the focus in the girl. Had she been Force-sensitive, Gladiolus might have considered taking her on as an apprentice. Though given the relationship between Ryloth and the Republic, it was more likely the Jedi would have swept up the girl as a babe instead of leaving her behind for a Sith Lord to find.

The Dearg Due entered the atmosphere along a wide strip of twilight between the sunny desert and the dark icy halves of Ryloth. Gladiolus sensed that nearly all life on the planet held to the strip, best suited to cultivate life long term. They descended upon a patch of mountains, five great behemoths that loomed over everything around them, separated from the rest of a long chain that spread from one half of Ryloth to the other.

"There's a city down there," she said, brows furrowing. "Within one of the mountains?"

"Oh wow, you can sense that?" asked Meera, staring straight ahead. "We were given clearance to land at Kala'uun, one of the planetary capitals. It's subterranean, as you realized."

Gladiolus hummed. She scanned the five peaks, searching for hints and signs of life within. She rubbed her jaw as her eyes continued to search. Though she sensed where the city was, she struggled to spot the hints that would surrender its particular location.

The shuttle began circling the mountain containing Kala'uun. Gladiolus sensed the city throughout the mountain, from around its base up to several hundred feet beneath its domed peak. Their circle grew wider and wider, eventually moving toward an approach line that would drive them into the bottom of the mountain.

"They should be opening the portcullis soon," Meera said, as though sensing Gladiolus's doubts about the subterranean city. That she sensed a multitude within a mountain did not confirm they could truly enter. "Everything happening in Hutt Space has left Ryloth on edge."

"Especially a city like Kala'uun," mused Gladiolus.

"Aye. Especially Kala'uun."

Movement caught Gladiolus's attention. She spotted a massive tannish door open like the jaws of a great beast, slow and cumbersome, about fifty yards into a cavernous gap she had somehow overlooked. Locking mechanisms appeared on the bottom of the door, emulating the teeth of a monster ready to eat the Dearg Due whole.

Meera plunged them into the gap with a whoop, forcing the shuttle's repulsorlifts to whine from the strain placed upon them. Gladiolus planted her feet and drew upon the Force, maintaining her position even when the gravitational forces yanking at her form should have prompted her to reach out and anchor her spot.

For a split second, the Dearg Due was plunged into a darkness impenetrable by light. And then the shuttle rose, suddenly following the swelling rise of the same tannish rock that comprised the mountain encapsulating Kala'uun.

They soon reached the top of the steep rise. Revealed to them was a massive chasm, filled with the hallmarks of any galactic city. Several massive turbolifts dotted the center, while platforms stretched from various cityscapes, all embedded into the mountain. Space was left within every platform so people could look up and down at their leisure. It happened that the space was just enough for their shuttle to pass through with ease. The Dearg Due arose through the city, passing level after level in its meteoric rise.

"We've been granted permission to land at the uppermost level," Meera said nonchalantly. "I mentioned that you were with me—well, I said that you were the former Jedi Knight who led the crusade in Hutt Space—and they were happy to grant us permission!"

"Former?"

Meera nodded. "Father believes your claim of being a Jedi was meant to protect everyone from investigations into your true nature. He wouldn't speculate with me about it, but he did not seem to ever believe you were truly a Jedi Knight. Everyone else probably assumes you've been removed from the Order."

"He is right," Gladiolus confessed. "Though you will need to investigate other sects and groups that have wielded the Force before I'll tell you which I belong to."

"Sounds like a fun challenge," said Meera as she continued piloting the shuttle up to the highest level. "You'll have to forgive me if I try and bait the truth from you."

"You are welcome to try."

"Does my father know?"

"Only Yumerra of the admirals, and that was because she happened to be present when the Grand Master of the Jedi Order sent me a message during the crusade."

Meera grunted. "Maybe I'll ask her."

"She's sworn to secrecy. Only if you know the truth can she speak at all."

Before Meera could continue the conversation, they reached the highest level. The Dearg Due circled a busy landing pad before descending and settling with a soft bump. Gladiolus swept from the cockpit to the boarding ramp. She waited until Meera finally joined her before she had it descend to the landing pad floor.

The Sith Lord descended first, the Twi'lek girl following in her wake. She scanned those gathered, finding a dozen Twi'lek men in wait. Though they all wore grey military uniforms, they were not uniform in coloration. Three were green like Meera, though none had her bright pattern. Two were red, four purple, and the rest blue. None possessed the albino coloration that had made Yumerra prey for slavers, though a few looked handsome enough that a more daring slaver might pursue their capture.

"Who amongst you is your leader?" asked the Sith Lord. "I will only speak with one."

She watched as the gathered Twi'leks exchanged several uncertain glances. Though patience was a Jedi virtue and not a Sith one, Gladiolus developed it throughout her crusade against the Hutts and their slave trade. If the Twi'leks present wished to be slow or tedious or merely difficult, then she would wait on them until they came around to her position.

And if they did not do so willingly, then she would apply the Force to achieve her aim.

Before that could transpire, a tall Twi'lek with purple skin and copper eyes stepped forward. His fatigues were highlighted by a set of shoulder and kneepads, along with a half-vest that descended to right beneath his ribs. He wore a few medals upon his chest, but no insignia of rank adorned his broad form. Gladiolus had not required her people to use them, for they were not a true military. Not at the beginning, though perhaps an argument could have been made at the end. Eventually ranks would be implemented, if only to ensure the structure and rigor required from a galactic naval power.

"I am Commodore Bandren M'guro," the Twi'lek said, his voice resonating with a faint rumble. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Jedi."

"I doubt I will be a Jedi for long. Formally, at least. For now, you can call me 'Lady Edelweiss'," Gladiolus said. Though her old name irked her, its utility could not be denied. "It is a name I have used in the pursuit of my aims, though only to acquire that which my people needed to fight our crusade against the Hutts and the galactic slave trade."

"We have heard of you," admitted Commodore M'guro with splayed palms. "However, the tales speak of a green-eyed woman, not a yellow-eyed one." He paused before adding, mostly to himself, "I do not think I have ever seen a human with yellow eyes."

"A particular quirk of my sect, one would say. Most Jedi would call me something along the lines of a 'heretic' for embracing that path, but it has cleared my mind. I am deluded as those on Coruscant are. I see the injustice in the galaxy. I recognize the evils that transpire. I possess the strength to see them righted."

"Yet many would denounce your methods."

Gladiolus scoffed. "Would you count yourself among them, Commodore? That must be why you remained here when many brave, honorable Twi'lek warriors flocked to my fleets and fought in many systems. Why, Mask Squadron, comprised of pilots from your own fleets, nobly sacrificed their lives to weaken the communication links between Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta, opening the way for my final victory."

"You mean your glassing."

"Now that is a way to describe what I have done," Gladiolus admitted. She shrugged almost apologetically. "I did not know what would happen when they all detonated. But my calculations informed me a thousand was required to strike Nal Hutta firmly enough that the Hutts would understand my will and intention."

"To cleanse them all?"

"To bring them to heel, Commodore." Gladiolus stepped forward. Commodore M'guro stood firm, watching her with cool bronze eyes. "You cannot tell me that the galaxy is a worse place without the Hutts dominating sectors of the Outer Rim. Their space has been broken, and soon the rest of their foul race shall experience the same… humiliation."

"Then you intend to dismiss Jabba Desilijic Tiure from his governorship over neighboring Tatooine."

The Sith Lord blinked. She had heard the name of that world from another Hutt, one who perished instantly when Gladiolus ruined Nal Hutta for generations to come. She sensed the whisperings of the Force, a hint of power that could forever change the galaxy. But to also know that a Hutt awaited her, ready to be removed from his position of power, made the prospect of liberating Tatooine all the sweeter.

"Naturally. Him, and the rest of his ilk that do not fall into line. Those who do will be permitted to retain their lives. Perhaps even their livelihoods, should they prove… clean of their race's great sin."

Commodore M'guro huffed. "Best of luck finding a Hutt that has not stained themselves with slavery. Perhaps on Coruscant, but then they will be stained with prospects perhaps as terrible as slavery in your eyes." He then mouthed: "Spice and death sticks."

Though unfamiliar with the latter, Gladiolus immediately understood his meaning. Narcotics. They were a heinous plague even on Earth, seeping the will until only a human-shaped husk was left behind. To know that they were so spread throughout the galaxy they managed to seize a position on Coruscant, the glittering jewel of the Republic, filled her with amusement and disgust alike.

"Not even those hiding under the nose of the Jedi will be safe from me in the end." She then turned to Meera, who had lingered at her side like a shadow. "I believe some of you are familiar with Meera here. Her father, Hemmen, served me well as an admiral of the Second Fleet." Her gaze returned to the watching Twi'lek. "So did Yumerra, an albino Twi'lek who I freed from slavery. She served me personally, and so has earned my trust."

"You wish to make an ally of Ryloth."

"I would do more than make your world a meager ally," the Sith Lord declared. "Soon, I will forge a new polarity of power in the galaxy. I would add Ryloth, and the Twi'lek people in particular, to this… confederation."

"A confederation? Ruled by you?"

"I would prefer to not rule. But that cannot be guaranteed in the present. Ryloth, along with my other allies, deserve their own voice as much as they might benefit from my… guidance."

"And so you would make choices for billions."

"…perhaps even trillions or quadrillions, though I would hate to add too many without due consideration for the administration and provision of those people."

Commodore M'guro hummed thoughtfully. "You have learned from your experiences in the former Hutt Space." He paused, holding his thoughtful expression for several seconds. He then sighed and admitted, "I am unable to take action one way or another concerning your proposal, Lady Edelweiss, for I am not a civilian leader. You must understand that only they can confirm Ryloth leaving the Republic and joining your new Confederation."

"Then when the time comes for me to form my new Confederation, as you've so kindly phrased it, I will make contact with them." She then smiled pleasantly. "I would greatly appreciate any assistance from yourself or those with you, Commodore. I have learned enough of your people to know that if you and yours move swiftly in my direction, these civilian leaders of yours shall follow suit."

The Commodore smirked. "You are a daring one, Lady Edelweiss."

"I have always been one to dare. I merely dare more, now."

Gladiolus slipped away from the military men after maybe an hour suffering their presence. Beyond Commodore M'guro, she had been introduced to a few dozen figures of varying ranks. She recalled few by name, for most lacked anything worth minding or understanding. Those who might die in her service in the future, though, would be recalled. But only after their deaths.

Now freed from the dutiful business of personally speaking to most of the commanders and officers of the Twi'lek people, she followed the pull of the Force. It drew her in two directions; she followed the nearer tug. Both would be visited before her inevitable departure for Tatooine, but a choice had to be made.

Had she been anyone else, Gladiolus would have headed for the massive turbolifts that occupied the center of Kala'uun and its great, sprawling chamber. But Gladiolus was a Sith Lord, empowered by the Force. She leaped down to the level below, descending the last several feet with slowing power. Her feet touched the durasteel floor with a whisper.

The Sith Lord glanced about, ignoring the Twi'leks who stopped to stare and whisper about her shocking appearance amongst them. She noticed a handful from other races, including fellow humans, but she ignored them, too. After all, her attention was directed elsewhere. The two tugs interfered with each other. One was on this level, while the other was still several down, about halfway down from the pinnacle level where she had just been.

With no better options, Gladiolus took a step in one direction, paused, and then turned about. She walked here and there, pausing a few times before heading in the direction that felt correct. Though she did not grow lost, Gladiolus stumbled upon the streets and roads that narrowed and twisted. Massive buildings rose above her head, with almost as many barely a story or two tall. She spotted a few, massive things that stretched through the distance, which managed to reach the inner wall of the mountain, digging into them like support beams.

The people grew different. Murkier, fouler. She almost thought she had never departed Hutt Space but had stumbled upon a new corner of that wretched region.

And then she stopped before a nameless cantina, the Force demanding she enter with all due haste. Her gaze wandered the structure, wondering what manner of creature she might find within. The nondescript front should have prevented her interest. But her powers would not permit her to continue until after she entered and spoke with whomever within her powers resonated with.

Gladiolus followed a downward-sloping path to the main door. Built of a burnished metal with a lovely rusted hue, she spotted a small notch for receiving visitors. She knocked politely, but nobody responded.

With no better option, Gladiolus forced the door open. It went easily, as though whoever sat within expected her. Given the little she did know, there was a chance that the waiting figure within truly did expect her. She could not fathom how someone, even a level down from the upper area, knew that Gladiolus was in Kala'uun. The Dearg Due should not be so recognizable as to give away her presence. Not unless one had connections with the military personnel she had met with, given they claimed the civilian leadership was at the other planetary capital.

Gladiolus stepped forward, allowing the Force to guide her progress. She frowned, deeper and deeper, as she found no signs of other occupants. Not even the scoundrels and drunkards one expected in an Outer Rim cantina could be found. She checked several rooms, despite none of them being her destination.

Still, she found nobody else.

She stopped and closed her eyes, reaching out with the Force. Her brows furrowed further as she sensed a Hutt presence within the cantina. Not a cantina, she realized. An abandoned crime front. Whatever this Hutt had been busy with had been derailed and ruined enough by Gladiolus's actions in Hutt Space they had no other option but to halt their work and fire their staff. Slavery was her first assumption, yet she found no sign of the vile practice. She did not sense the wrinkles and cracks in the Force that lingered where slavery had been practiced. She had noticed those pains throughout her crusade, but had shut them out in favor of focusing her mind on battle meditation or focusing on the battle before her.

But now that she was here, able to investigate at her leisure, she indulged her Force-senses. She peered through the visible layers to the invisible, to the hidden and secret. Nothing emerged. Nothing but a sallow hopelessness that she instantly knew emerged from the Hutt awaiting her.

And so the Sith Lord continued. She avoided the distractions of her surroundings, focusing solely on what the Force wished for her. Though she still disdained the Cosmic Force, she understood its power and sway. As long as she maintained her conscious mind, she had nothing to fear from the Cosmic Force. She could use it as easily as she drew upon the Living Force or the dark side.

She eventually entered a spacious chamber, illuminated by several large lanterns. A Hutt, swollen and flaky, sat upon a hovercar at the center. Crusted yet bulbous eyes stared at her. She stared back, allowing every trace of illusion and glamour upon her body to fall away. She removed her first lightsaber from where she hid it along the small of her back and ignited the crimson blade, filling the chamber with its luminous glow.

"So… You were a Sith Lord," the Hutt said weakly. Gladiolus had learned enough Huttese to understand the sickly Hutt. "Jabba told me you… that you were one of them. His… allies spoke of a third. One not… part of their pact."

"I would call it a 'sect', not a 'pact'," corrected Gladiolus. "But Jabba speaks true. He's also my next target in my little crusade."

The Hutt laughed, sounding stronger. Haler. "A little crusade! Ahahahaha! You've done nothing by half, little Sithling. To call your crusade 'little' diminishes the scale of your achievement." The Hutt then sighed and, as best he could, hung his head. "You've so forever shamed us that the Hutts will one day demarcate our history in terms of the centuries and millennia before your coming, and everything that came to be afterward."

"I would not have it any other way."

"Good, good," the Hutt muttered. He sighed. "I will die soon. I cannot say when, though having been abandoned by my followers and servants…"

"You have no other options but to perish or force yourself to live," Gladiolus remarked. "And so you waited for me."

"And so I waited for you," the Hutt agreed. "I would rather perish by your hand than wither away like any poor pest that I once spat upon."

Gladiolus nodded. She stepped forward, her lightsaber humming at her side. She twirled her blade, enjoying the slight hints of fear and uncertainty that bubbled up within the Hutt. Deep within remained a desire to live, one suppressed by resignation to fate.

As she reached the Hutt, that desire to live awoke with fiery passion. The Hutt recoiled from her, hissing and screaming, begging for his life. His words fell upon her ears, and her ears decided to not hear.

Her decision had already been made. She raised her weapon and cast down another Hutt, severing head from body with a single swift swing.

Gladiolus departed the abandoned cantina shortly after she finished her killing. She glanced back at the building before snatching threads of the Force and drawing them together around the structure, hiding it from common view. Only a Jedi or Sith could stumble upon this place and reveal it. Not unless the Hutt decomposed to the point the stench crawled out into the street and drew attention to itself.

She searched for the first passage down to a lower level. Gladiolus found a decrepit turbolift shaft, awkwardly blocked off with worn plasteel panels. She shattered them with the Force and then leaped down into the open gap below. As she had during her descent from the highest level, Gladiolus manipulated the Force so she slowed as she neared the floor below. She paused, sensed with the Force, and then continued down. Her target was further down, deeper within the city.

The Sith Lord pressed onward, delving deeper and deeper into Kala'uun. The other presence she sensed earlier had moved deeper into the city, heading for what felt like a spaceport. She sensed, though distant, the concern and fear within Meera. The young Twi'lek had only realized that Gladiolus slipped away, uninterested in remaining present throughout the tedious and tiresome game of pleasantries and snobbery. She forged a temporary bond between them and poured into the Twi'lek a certainty that her charge was safe, and that they would be reunited soon.

Gladiolus descended through Kala'uun until she reached one of the lower levels. She sensed the presence nearby, lurking like a nocturnal hunter surrounding its quarry. It had noticed her and decided to draw her into a trap. She paused and tilted her head, wondering whether or not the presence she sensed was the same Sith assassin who attempted to kill her at Sleheyron.

Could it be…?

She stalked toward the presence, her cloak's hood raised to cover her face while she masked her presence in the Force. She shifted like a shadow through busy, haphazard streets. Slinking through their passage, she approached the presence. Gladiolus palmed her lightsaber, ready to once more take a life with it. The Hutt had been easy.

A fellow Sith could prove trickier. It helped she had already dueled two of the three running about the galaxy. Sidious should rest somewhere between his master, Plagueis, and the assassin. Which she could confront remained a mystery.

One she would soon solve.

Gladiolus followed the presence to a dark alley. She stalked forward, eyes roving the shadows and shade before her. The presence lurked at the edge of her awareness, careful to not reveal too much until the moment to strike. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

The assassin once more. But was this planned, or is it pure happenstance?

Though she knew luck, providence, and happenstance did not truly exist, Gladiolus could not help but entertain the idea. The assassin's fate had been written in stone, that he would perish by the hand of the one he hated most.

It was a shame for him that it was her, and not someone else. He could have secured years, even decades, had he chosen another to hate. A Jedi would show greater mercy than her.

A savage grin crossed Gladiolus's face as the assassin appeared before her.

"Lord Maul," she whispered.

"Lord Gladiolus," he replied.

They ignited their lightsabers, filling the alley with twined crimson light. For the span of a heartbeat, they stared each other down. They drew on the Force, seeking the power of foresight and awareness to predict the other. Gladiolus saw a dozen ways she could die, and a dozen ways she could survive.

But what she wanted most of all was the conditions in which she slew the Sith assassin without revealing the nature of his death.

It struck her a microsecond before time resumed its normal flow. The Force responded to her in a fashion that it ignored the assassin. His true skill was his blade. He was a warrior, a hammer to strike down nails. And though he thought her a nail, just like every other target he pursued, she knew she was no nail.

She was a scalpel.

The moment passed. He lunged forward. She caught the tip of his blade on the flat of hers and cast that green blend of magic and the Force. His eyes widened. He had drawn too near to her. He attempted to backpedal, to flee her might. But he was caught flatfooted, and so stood still as a green death raced over him.

Gladiolus watched the Sith assassin fall dead. She kneeled beside his body, removed the lightsaber from his hand, and turned away, pocketing both weapons beneath her cloak. The authorities would find his corpse, and know nothing.

The Dearg Due settled in the middle of a plaza on the second lowest level. Gladiolus strolled aboard as though nothing was amiss. She sealed the boarding ramp behind her and then headed for the cockpit. A disgruntled Meera sat in the pilot's seat.

Before the Twi'lek could turn and face her, the Sith Lord declared, "Set a course for Tatooine. That is our next destination."

She received an understanding glance. "As you wish," her pilot said. "Setting a course for Tatooine."

Once cleared of Ryloth's gravity well, the Dearg Due jumped to hyperspace for a short jaunt down the Old Corellian Run to Tatooine.