The Chancellor shut down the communications system and leaned back in his chair.
It seems Count Dooku's new apprentice failed to live up to expectations. And yet such great plans had been tied to that defector. To die so ineptly—not by a blade, but by a blaster—one has to truly manage that. But even more inept is to succumb to the Dark Side, to lose control of oneself, to become a madman…
Palpatine had often reflected on the so-called "fall," for it was a sore subject for all Force-sensitives. Once, he himself had nearly lost control. It had happened on that very night when he killed his master, Darth Plagueis. The fear that Plagueis might survive—no matter how, even as a Force ghost—had driven him to strike again and again, using every means at hand: the blade of his lightsaber, the Force…
And yet for the Sith—and for true Sith—everything was somewhat simpler. They accepted the Dark, just as they accepted the Force itself, as merely another instrument that must obey the will of its master. The Force—the indivisible Force—is nothing more than power, and it must be used for its intended purpose. The Jedi, however… despite all their contrivances and all their words—"There is no emotion, there is peace"—they feared the Darkness. That fear was instilled in them from their very first days in the Temple and remained with them forever, shaping itself into a certain form that at times could assume an almost tangible presence. Yet to blame everything on it would be simply wrong, for it does not act directly, but only through sentient beings themselves—and other living creatures. In short, all our misfortunes come from ourselves.
For millennia, the Jedi fought the Sith solely because the latter used the Dark Side. There were no excuses, no agonizing doubts: meet a Sith—kill him. Such was the immutable rule, fed by ancient fear. And fear, as is well known, leads to the Dark Side.
The Jedi learn to control themselves, but not the Dark Side. And so, when a "fall" occurs, they open up, spilling out everything they have so tightly packed within themselves all those years. In such moments they lose the semblance of a rational being, and only a few can withstand the surging madness…
Palpatine smirked. For him, madness was an impermissible luxury—one that would mean not merely his own death, but the death of the Sith. Or rather, of the doctrine so stubbornly passed down over nine hundred years… Yes… It was an impermissible luxury for him. A madman has no need to think about tomorrow, about the next minute, about the consequences or causes of his actions. His mind often fixates on a single thought buried deeper than all the rest. The ancient instinct of the beast.
Everyone around you is an enemy. Kill the enemy. Show who is in command here…
Shifting in his chair, Palpatine continued to ponder.
What compelled Count Dooku to remove himself from that operation? Why did he send his apprentice there—and where was he himself? In any case… the answers to these questions will be obtained very soon.
Count Dooku was already en route to Coruscant.
***
After the meeting concluded, I decided to rummage through my private stash to find records on the Hutts. It wouldn't hurt to dig through my memory as well—my Master had mentioned something about them once.
Since my belongings were aboard the Akagi—and Ahsoka's as well—the Togruta, shirking from the negotiations, was dispatched by shuttle to fetch our things. We were going to be stuck here for a couple of days anyway…
An hour later, the required holodisc was delivered into my hands. I had spent that time combing through my memory. Another two hours went into studying the data on the disc.
I leaned back wearily in my chair, massaging my temples with my palms. Well… what could one say? The Republic and the Hutts had, as they say, never quite gotten along. More precisely, humans and Hutts. These two species were something like opposite poles of the Galaxy.
The Republic prided itself on its location, its cultural values, and the fact that the Jedi stood on its side. The Hutts could boast one of the oldest highly developed civilizations in the Galaxy—several thousand years older than the Republic. And both looked upon everyone else as… shit.
Not surprisingly. Both species, at the dawn of their existence, had to struggle for survival.
For tens of thousands of years, the Hutts lived peacefully on Varl—their homeworld—alongside another species, their distant relatives. They developed, progressing from tribal settlements to an Empire that encompassed the entire planet; they studied technology and eventually reached space… But one day, they lost their home. According to some sources, it was because their sun died, collapsing into a white dwarf. According to others, Varl was destroyed by war—its devastated surface bore all too characteristic scars. And the Rakata could not be blamed for it—someone else had been responsible. The Hutt Empire relocated to the planet Evocar, which they renamed in their own tongue: Nal Hutta. "The New Home of the Hutts." Gradually, the Hutts began expanding their Empire. And then they encountered humans.
Humans… yes.
Many hundreds of thousands of years before the founding of the Galactic Republic, the ancient ancestors of modern Humans inhabited the planet Notron—later to be called Coruscant. However, by some twist of fate, two species developed on that world: humans, who called themselves the Zhell, and the Taung. It was believed that two distant continents existed on the planet, which facilitated such an evolution of events. Need it be said that upon their first encounter, the two races went to war? According to archaeologists, the conflict began two hundred thousand years ago and lasted one hundred and ten thousand years. Quite a conflict.
The confrontation ended with the complete defeat of the Taung and their expulsion beyond the borders of Notron. The refugees settled on an unclaimed planet thousands of light-years away. That planet was given the name "Mandalor," in honor of one of the Taung leaders.
However, the Hutts were by no means pacifists. Pacifists do not build mighty empires or turn countless nations of sentient beings into their vassals—or even their slaves. The history of the Hutts was marked by wars as well, some sparked by xenophobia rooted in their excessive self-regard. The Hutts traditionally considered themselves smarter, stronger, and more talented than all other species combined. Then again, looking at most of their vassals and slaves, one could confidently say—they had every reason to think so.
At first, the Hutts—thanks to their skillful politics—were, as the saying goes, riding high… or, in local terms, riding a bantha. They managed to repel the assaults of Xim the Despot, destroying his Empire in a long and grueling war. However, during a subsequent conflict between the Republic and the remnants of Xim's empire, the Hutts intervened. Perhaps they even deliberately redirected the threat toward the Republic. After a prolonged war, the Republic emerged victorious—but it did not forgive and forget. As a result, a few years later, the Hutt Empire ceased to exist. More precisely, the institution of the Emperors ceased to exist; public trust in it had been undermined—thanks in no small part to Republic agents. Power passed to the Hutt Council, formed by representatives of the most influential clans.
And that was when it truly began. The Republic regarded the Hutts as bandits and gangsters; the Hutts contemptuously referred to the Republic as a pile of shit. From time to time, conflicts flared between them.
For example, twelve thousand years ago, Chancellor Contispex launched the First Crusade. Of course, the original term carried a somewhat different connotation, but to me it was inevitably associated with that particular period of Earth's history… In any case, the Crusade was a large-scale war against Hutt Space, which occupied vast territories in the Mid Rim and Outer Rim, with a sizable portion in the Expansion Region. The cause of the conflict was… a banal thirst for profit. And, of course, expanding the Republic's territory was always considered a righteous endeavor.
The "crusaders"—fanatics—attacked the Hutts from several directions at once: six fleets and armies stormed the Hutt border worlds. But Contispex clearly overestimated the capabilities of his forces, led into battle by xenophobic commissars. The Hutts managed to withstand the initial onslaught and defend their holdings. It did not help even that the "crusaders" sincerely believed they were bringing "purification" to Hutt worlds and fulfilling a "holy mission." "Strike the Hutts—save the Republic!" was but one of many rallying cries heard in those troubled times.
The First Crusade was followed by the second and third, launched by the Supreme Chancellor's son—Contispex II. In total, during the thousand-year religious cult of Pius Dea, the Galaxy endured thirty-four crusades—thirty-four times the Republic sent its armies and fleets against non-human species, ten of those campaigns directed against the Hutts. Local wars numbered in the thousands.
During the crusading era, it was not only the Hutts—appointed the Republic's principal enemy during that period—who suffered, but thousands of other species as well. Many species were subjected to genocide, drastically reducing the populations of dozens of worlds; some species were annihilated entirely.
The Jedi intervened only toward the end of the era, during the reign of Contispex XIX. Need it be said that their intervention followed the usual script—remove the ringleader? A method that, admittedly, worked without fail.
Although no conflicts of that magnitude arose in the following years, relations between the Republic and Hutt Space remained extremely strained. And if before Ruusan the Hutts had at least respected the Republic's military might, afterward… things were simple—you no longer have a fleet, and we do… And the Jedi's tried-and-true methods were useless here: Hutts were impervious to mind tricks, and eliminating individual members would only have triggered a large-scale war—one that, under those circumstances, would have been fatal for the Republic.
I glanced at the pile of various data storage devices lying on the table beside me. All right, where did I see that… Ah!
Finding the necessary holodisc, I inserted it into the reader and initiated a search.
Right. According to Republic intelligence—five years old by now—the Hutt fleet numbered… well, it was enormous. They possessed around seven hundred Dreadnaughts alone, and ten thousand Gozantis. In particular, Jabba's clan possessed two hundred and seven Dreadnaughts—exactly seven more than had once comprised the Katana Fleet. The entire Judicial Forces would be a mere snack for such an armada, and even now the Hutts could give both the Separatist Droid Army and the Grand Army of the Republic a serious fight. Still, the Hutts generally adhered to a policy of deterrence rather than aggression. And peace, either—for war is an expensive business, even for the Hutts, and legends of their wealth circulate throughout the Galaxy…
The Republic disliked the Hutts; the Hutts returned the sentiment in full. Hutt Space became the place where those discontented with the Republic gathered. And, of course, there were pirates and smugglers—how could there not be. Nar Shaddaa—the moon of Nal Hutta—became a place where one could purchase any pleasure available in this Galaxy. Naturally, the Jedi, following the Republic, held negative views. I'd wager my lightsaber that a good half of the Order shares opinions similar to those preached by Mace Windu: "The Hutts are criminals. They must be judged."
And now, after who the hell knows how many years, the Republic had been handed a chance to mend relations with the Hutts.
And I had somehow managed to get myself tangled up in this grand spectacle.
An unbearable urge to howl at the moon seized me.
For fuck's sake…