Two hundred years ago, the decline of the Galactic Republic's influence began. The dataries gradually lost its value beyond the Core Worlds and the Inner Rim, giving way to the Hutt currency—the peggat. The growing economic crisis worsened even further when the InterGalactic Banking Clan—the primary creditor of the Galactic Republic's government—registered its own currency, backed by real banking assets and the industrial holdings owned by the Banking Clan itself. This move dealt a serious blow to the Republic's economic system.
Ten years before my "transmigration," Republic credit chips were rarely accepted in the Outer Rim worlds, except on planets with a high level of technological development that frequently traded with the galaxy's central regions. A scene from one of the films comes to mind, where Qui-Gon Jinn tried to pay Watto for a hyperdrive using Republic dataries—and was flatly refused.
Another trend of the past fifty years was the gradual abandonment of electronic credit chips in the peripheral regions and a return to coins and ingots made of precious and semi-precious metals. Many—from small-time street vendors to major corporations—viewed Republic "electronic" money, and not only Republic, as something unreliable, unbacked by the real sector of the economy. By holding wealth in precious metals, they hoped to protect themselves from a sudden collapse of the Republic credit's exchange rate, which—given the Separatist Crisis—was expected at any moment.
And after the war began, the Separatists issued their own version of the credit… which was also backed by the Banking Clan. Slippery Muuns—playing both sides, as always.
As it happened, that was exactly what lay before me now: credit "ingots." The crate was filled with plates made of precious metal alloys—gold, platinum, chromium—seventy-five centimeters long, thirteen wide, and five millimeters thick, worth… yes, if I counted correctly, and if they were all of the same denomination, several hundred thousand credits. Perhaps even half a million.
While I admired the money, Ahsoka and the clones finished turning over the remaining five panels in the corridor. To the girl's displeasure, all the other caches were empty.
Whistling softly, I closed the crate of credits and pulled the second one closer. Opening it, I found four blaster pistols of a strange design, resting in specially molded recesses. One look at Ahsoka's and the captain's reactions told me these weapons were familiar to them. Strangely enough, even the clones reacted. Disgust?!
"To hell with the drugs," Williams said grimly. "Possession of disruptors carries the death penalty."
"Disruptors?" I instinctively leaned back from the crate.
"Yes, sir," the nearest clone confirmed. "We were shown them during training. DX-2 model, manufactured by the Tenloss Syndicate. Weight—just over two kilograms. Effective range—seven meters. Exceptional armor penetration and destructive power. A single shot pierces any armor, including beskar or cortosis. Like all disruptors, the DX-2 is illegal on most planets in the Galaxy."
"Yeah. Nasty stuff," Ahsoka nodded in agreement.
No kidding. I remembered Master Arto once saying they were banned not only in the Republic, but also by most criminal organizations. And Mandalorians would shoot anyone on sight if they saw one of these "wunderwaffe" in their hands. Hm… Something similar existed in Earth's history… Right! Crossbows. When did they appear in Europe?..No, I don't remember the exact year, but it was definitely in the eleventh century. They proved so effective that they caused concern within the Church, and crossbows were banned under threat of anathema as "weapons hateful to God and unfit for Christians." With a caveat, of course—the Catholic Church did allow the use of crossbows against non-believers. As a result, their production never truly stopped, even though a later pope reaffirmed the ban. It ultimately lost relevance with the invention of firearms. Apparently, disruptors have taken the place of crossbows here.
"What are your orders, sir?" Williams asked, pulling me back to reality.
Damn it all. I want them—and at the same time… it hurts to even think about it. Fine. To hell with the disruptors. Let's at least squeeze some minimal benefit out of this.
"All right. I'm confiscating the money. The drugs—destroy them. The disintegrators…" I removed my lightsaber from my belt and ignited the blade, carefully slicing the pistols into pieces. "Same treatment. The crew—execute and dispose of them in the recycler. Transfer the ship to the Akagi. That's all."
Noting that the decision satisfied everyone—even Ahsoka—I headed for the exit ramp.
888
"Lord Jabba! Lord Jabba!"
One of the guards—a Trandoshan—burst into the hall, clutching his scorched side.
"What has happened?" Jabba demanded.
The guard struggled to catch his breath before finally speaking.
"Your son…" he said at last. "An unknown ship attacked us during his walk. A strange construct with tentacles. They closed the distance abruptly and shot down our escort, then boarded us. Lord… Rotta… was taken…"
The attendants standing nearby gasped, covering their mouths with their hands; one even dropped a tray of delicacies.
No—this was not news Jabba had expected. Rotta had been on his usual evening walk, at that precise time when one of the Brothers had already dipped below the horizon, while the other was sinking toward sunset…
Jabba flew into a rage. Waving his arms, he began bellowing orders.
"Find him!" Jabba roared. "Find my son! And those who dared commit such an act—will pay with their lives!"
And those were not empty words.
888
"Life can be so unpredictable that its turns leave one utterly at a loss," Palpatine murmured as the holographic message once again flickered across the shimmering blue screen.
Jabba's droid was transmitting a request for assistance in locating Rotta, while its visibly agitated master—squinting slightly and swaying nervously—watched the transmission.
"The problem must be truly serious if he has turned to the Republic for help."
The Chancellor cast a glance at the Jedi gathered in his office. Judging by their expressions, this development had caught them off guard as well. Even Master Windu, the Order's representative in the Senate, looked unlike himself—grim and contemplative. For now, he remained silent, weighing what he had heard. The others—Yoda, Plo Koon, Ki-Adi-Mundi—were likewise in no hurry to voice an opinion. No one seemed eager to speak first.
At last, Palpatine said gently:
"I believe this situation falls under the jurisdiction of the Jedi Order. What do you say to that, Master Windu?" He looked questioningly at the impassive Korun.
Windu leaned back in his chair.
"The Republic should not associate with such individuals."
"Harsh words, my friend. But I do not believe it is wise to speak so of the head of a sovereign state."
"Undoubtedly, this is an internal Hutt affair," Windu replied, his voice as even and detached as befitted a Jedi Master. "Jabba himself has never shied away from kidnappings. So why has he come to us? Why should we divert Jedi forces to what is essentially a routine police matter, when a war is raging?"
"A child has gone missing. Is that not reason enough? We must help," Palpatine countered. "Besides, I have heard that long ago one of the Hutts was a fully recognized Jedi—and was not treated with disdain…"
Palpatine returned to his seat and activated the holoprojector. A map of the Galaxy appeared above the table, with the territories controlled by the Hutt clans highlighted.
"Perhaps we can strike an agreement with the Hutts. Jabba may exert influence over the others. After all, they command considerable resources—beyond their large fleet, they can afford to hire hundreds of thousands of mercenaries." Palpatine lingered on his words, watching his audience closely. "Their territories are vast…"
Tilting his head slightly, Windu said:
"Even so, I sense unease. This is no simple kidnapping for ransom or revenge. I can feel it."
Palpatine allowed himself a thin smile—one that seemed to say both I share your concern and you know I am right.
"You may disapprove of dealings with the Hutts, Master Windu, but these are difficult times. We cannot dictate terms to potential allies. If they bring more benefit than harm, we are obliged to cooperate. The Hutts control hyperspace routes throughout the eastern reaches of the Outer Rim."
"Where should we begin the search?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked. "It would help to have at least an approximate area…"
Palpatine pondered briefly.
"It is unlikely the kidnappers have gone far. I believe he may be on one of these planets." The Chancellor's finger hovered over the region near Teth. "Reconnaissance should be dispatched there as soon as possible. I will see to it."
"But… all our forces are committed to combating General Grievous. We have too few Jedi as it is," the Cerean replied, stroking his beard. "And the distance is considerable."
"Ahem," Master Unduli interjected, drawing their attention. "Knight Vict's unit is operating in that region already. At the very least, he is nearby."
"This is a matter of the utmost importance. We should send as many Jedi as possible," the Chancellor reminded them.
"We could also assign Skywalker and Kenobi… They are currently on Christophsis," Windu added.
But then Yoda spoke firmly:
"Inform Vikt, you must. Handle this, that knight should."
"Yes. The more forces we commit to the operation, the faster we will be able to resolve this issue," Luminara supported him.
"Then… contact them immediately," Palpatine nodded in agreement.
Vikt again? This should be interesting