Some time later. Tatooine
Sitting in her office, Talia listlessly sifted through documents. Nearly a month had passed since Shade was gone. Damask, being the sole co-founder, had received his share, but left Talia to oversee everything, which added an extra burden to the girl.
In fact, nothing in the company had changed, and everything remained in its place. As planned, Yuri took the post of HIT manager and was gradually entering the companies' internal affairs. Talia, in Damask's absence, had to carry his obligations and oversee both her department and Yuri, while personally keeping an eye on the enterprises.
The office the girl had moved into belonged to Shade; hers had gone to Yuri. The setting in the office hadn't changed much, save for a few minor additions. A stand with Aero's two swords had appeared on a wall shelf, and next to them was a row of books made of flimsiplast. Talia loved to read in her spare time and kept a small library she was proud of.
Small trinkets and souvenirs brought from different planets the girl had visited were lined up on a neighboring shelf. A bit further, on a separate shelf, stood a charred Mandalorian helmet, broken beyond recognition, with a crimson visor and a faint imprint of female lips near the forehead.
On the desk, besides small work tools, stood a photograph taken by Zero of Talia kissing Shade. The annoying droid had an equally annoying habit—recording everything he saw. Flying next to Shade, this little guy had managed to film a great deal, but extracting that data proved impossible. The droid continued to guard his master's secrets. Even an attempt at remote connection couldn't help; the droid would simply self-destruct.
Looking at this little guy, Talia sometimes began to get angry. Memories of how this droid sat on Aero's shoulder and looked at her in exactly the same way surfaced in her head, pulling others with them. Those silly jokes, teases, touches... The way he treated her, especially after the incident with the CIM's crash, was very strange. As if to an old acquaintance. But it was wrong. She didn't deserve it, she just didn't!
And it infuriated the girl; time and again she told herself that there was nothing important in these relations, but nevertheless, sometimes, on quiet evenings, tears still appeared in her eyes. The girl had nothing left but to be helplessly angry and try to suppress the feelings bursting for freedom within her.
Knock-knock! A knock sounded at the door. It opened slightly, and Yuri appeared in the passage.
"May I?"
"Of course, Uncle."
"Talia, I have news regarding my investigation," Yuri said, walking to the desk. These words immediately stung the girl, but outwardly it did not manifest in any way.
"Well?" becoming serious, she leaned forward.
"Nothing," the man said flatly, sitting in a chair.
"?"
"Absolutely nothing. We took apart every droid that interacted with your ship down to the screws, but they are clean. I personally went through the files of the employees who had access to the droids at that moment, but no one even approached the machines. The ship's maintenance went according to routine. I... I don't understand. How could you have picked up that virus?! Unless from the inside, but there were only six of you there. You, Shade, the Mandalorian, and three ship crew members. I suspect it was one of them, but that will have to be checked."
"Is that all?"
"Yes."
"Thank you, Uncle. But I'll take it from here."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
A small pause hung in the room, which the man dispelled:
"How are you?"
"Everything's fine, why?" picking up a tablet, the Twi'lek cast a short glance at the man.
"Oh, nothing... Alright, I'm going," rising, the man, glancing at Talia, left her alone with the droid.
When the door closed, the droid approached Talia.
"What are you looking at? Go away!" waving her hand, the girl tried to drive the machine away, but Zero only hopped back. And then a tablet flew at him, but the droid dodged that too.
Hiding her face in her hands, Talia burst into tears.
"I hate it..." a quiet, quiet whisper sounded.
"Beep-beep!" landing on the desk, the droid drew attention. "Mistress Talia, Jabba the Hutt is here to see you."
"That's all I needed... What does he want?" wiping her tears, the Twi'lek asked.
The droid froze for a moment, as if redirecting the question somewhere, and then replied:
"He has a business proposal for you."
"Let him wait upstairs. I'll be up in a moment."
"Accepted."
Putting herself in order and removing the traces of a mild hysterical fit, the girl went upstairs in the droid's company. Modified B1 droids were already standing in the corridors—as promised, MandalMotors had delivered the ordered combat droids to Tatooine, and some of the machines were already on duty, patrolling cities and guarding facilities.
Unlike the simple dummies, these models had the T-shaped face sensor characteristic of Mandalorians and a visor to protect it. The joints had also changed; the droid moved more freely and faster. In its hands, instead of the unified and time-tested E-5, was a shortened Mandalorian rifle.
Like their prototypes, the droids looked impressive and were not distinguished by talkativeness. If one could still talk a B1's ear off, a B1-Q, which these machines were a modification of, was no longer such a case.
Taking the elevator up, the girl entered the lobby. The room, originally set aside for security, had gradually turned into a guest hall. After all, it was much calmer to meet "guests" surrounded by good and numerous guards.
In the hall itself, Talia was already being waited for.
"My master, Jabba the Hutt," the droid began, but Talia gave a negative shake of her head.
"I know the Hutt language. What do you want, Jabba?"
"I have arrived to express condolences for your loss, girl," the Hutt began. "Aero was a good partner; he helped me and my kajidic rise considerably. In return, I want to make you a profitable offer," the Hutt pointed a finger at Talia, as if doing a favor. "I could finance your enterprise, becoming a co-founder for certain preferences."
"That won't do, Jabba," Talia shook her head. "I know why you want TNC, and specifically, our ships. The fact that customs officers go out of their way to bypass our ore freighters doesn't mean you can use them for your own purposes."
"Don't rush with an answer, Twi'lek. Think. Yes, you are doing very well, but only for now. You aren't Aero, to hold the company if someone decides to frame it or apply pressure. You will break. So why create problems? I offer my help with money, words, and connections. Moreover, I will pay a great many credits to you personally. You'll be able to retire forever, live in prosperity, and never remember this."
"No. TNC, HIT, and the other companies are Shade's legacy. And they will develop exactly as he wanted. I've said everything."
"A pity. A great pity," the Hutt shook his head disapprovingly, but a Mandalorian appearing from behind the girl's back made the slug change his face. "Nevertheless, I respect your choice. But think about it anyway. My offer remains in force."
With those words, the Hutt turned around and crawled toward the exit.
"What will the orders be?" the Mandalorian asked when the door closed.
But Talia did not answer. Stepping aside, she sat in a chair.
"Lady, are you unwell?" the fighter worried.
"Everything's fine. Bring me some water, please."
***
Jabba the Hutt's Palace
Returning home, the Hutt thoughtfully tapped his belly. Something had to be done about the girl; when you had such a prize in front of your nose, not using it was more expensive than it was worth. But the Mandalorians wouldn't allow a forceful solution; RAVEN was reliably guarding Tatooine's space, and then there was that army of droids... Where did they even pull it from?!
"My Lord, am I right in understanding that the negotiations were not crowned with success?" an assistant interjected. A middle-aged Zabrak with yellowish skin, several broken horns, in well-groomed rich clothes.
"Do you want to say something, Nnorfat?"
"Yes, my Lord. You see, as I have just managed to find out, although Talia is the head of HIT, and in turn all the other subsidiaries, the shares do not belong to her."
"Hm?" the Hutt became interested, turning fully toward his subordinate.
"As far as I know, Aero had the main block of shares in the company, but besides him there was someone else. That someone is who Aero's shares passed to, and he is the one who appointed Talia to her current post."
"Haaaa, so that's how it is?"
"Yes, my Lord. The shareholder's trail leads to Muunilinst; we could activate connections and find out exactly who the company belongs to now and speak with him instead."
"Do it, Nnorfat. Put me in touch with him."
"As you command, Master."
***
Jedi Temple
During a discussion of priority issues at a meeting of the Jedi High Council, an incident known in some circles as the "Mandalorian Uprising" was raised.
"So, since the issue with Malastare is closed for now, I propose returning to the discussion of the events surrounding the death of Shade Aero," Master Raynor said, scanning the other members of the main council.
"Master Raynor, could you explain for those not in the loop what the essence of the problem with the Mandalorians is?" a Rodian asked.
"Certainly. I want to start with the fact that Aero was a strong Force-sensitive. Learning of his deplorable situation, I made an attempt to reach him for a conversation, but I was too late. He was killed by then. However! Due to the proximity, neither I, nor Dooku, nor any of those Force-sensitives I took with me, felt that death, which leads me to think that Aero is alive."
"The Mandalorians would disagree with you."
"And that is the strangest part. Dooku," a look at the Count, and he nodded in agreement, "personally conducted a conversation with them using mind trick techniques. The Mandalorians are sacredly convinced that Aero is dead. All of them. They are convinced of it in his company, even his deputy."
"May I, Master?" Dooku interjected. "I want to add that at the moment of death Aero was very weak and we allow for the possibility of his death."
"Yes, thank you Dooku. But that is only half the trouble. The other and main problem is that the Mandalorians are sacredly convinced of our involvement. Someone, pretending to be members of the Order, arranged a mess in their capital, specifically left witnesses, and disappeared without a trace. I remind you that the Order already had strained relations with this warrior people. I managed to establish contact with some clans, in particular with one of the strongest. However! In the course of recent events all that is now unimportant. I believe someone specifically conducted this action to set them against us."
"Hm... Right you are, Raynor. A provocation this is; insults this people does not forgive. A reaction from them to wait for we must," the green Master shared his thoughts.
"They won't go for a conflict," Dooku added.
"Sure of this you are. Why?"
"As I managed to find out, Aero received the status of Mandalore the Resurrector before his death. He advocated for the safety of his territories and peaceful coexistence with neighbors. Given that he once already bypassed a conflict with us, I have no reason to believe that Aero wanted to unleash another war in this way. Rather the opposite, to curb the Mandalorians' warlike disposition."
"So, someone removed the obstacle?"
"Perhaps it is..."
"There's more," Dooku continued. "I have been reflecting on these events and how they developed. I am concerned about the speed with which they raced. I think Aero not only could have been in someone's way, but could have known something."
"All the more an enemy find we must. Understand we must let the Mandalorians that we wish them no ill."
"That will be difficult. They are sacredly convinced of the opposite," Raynor said.
"Therefore more important only this becomes. A serious force Aero has gathered; joke with it we must not. Also, another fact you overlook. In the Senate alarm goes; representatives of the Cathar Trade Union until recently were spreading it. On the senator of the Mandalorian sector they tried to press, but something frightened them. Deal with this we also must, lest politicians a war provoke."
"You are certainly right, Master Yoda, but the problem is that the senator from Mandalore cites that these are internal affairs and outsiders have no business in them. We can do nothing from that side."
"It's not all bad, Masters," Dooku interjected again. "As I said, the Mandalorians won't strike in the heat of the moment, but they will start digging everywhere. The murder of the Mandalore on his home planet, in the central hospital, is a huge blow to their pride. We only need not to interfere and provide support from our side, well and they will deal with internal affairs themselves."
"Hm... Dooku, fly to Concord Dawn you must. Participate though you cannot, but observe you must, for another on the threshold they will not let."
"Besides me there is another Jedi. My former apprentice—Qui-Gon Jinn. I propose sending him. I, however, need to return to my investigation. It seems I have come upon the trail of one of the dark artifacts."
"So be it. Master Raynor, is there anything to add for you?"
"No, Master Yoda."
"Then the next question touch we shall..."
***
Mandalore
For the first time in a long while, the system's capital intervened in Concord Dawn's affairs. The business going on with the planet already affected the central world, but now the situation had gone beyond all reasonable limits.
For the first time in seven hundred years, all the key representatives of this people gathered in the main hall on Mandalore. Heads of leading clans, the Duke of Mandalore, heads of large companies, including the head of MandalMotors. The situation affected everyone.
One by one, the leaders gathered in the huge hall with sky-high ceilings. Tapestries depicting the symbolism of each meeting participant hung on the walls between the windows. Majestic drawings from ancient times, when the Taung ruled the planet, peered from the walls themselves.
When everyone was assembled, the meeting began. As the host of the palace, Duke Hegel Kryze, head of Clan Kryze, announced it.
"So, I declare the meeting open."
"Duke Kryze, do you know what is happening on Concord Dawn?" the head of Clan Stick asked immediately.
"Yes. Ordo gave me a clear picture of what is going on there. And I want to clarify how it came to this, and why Tor Vizsla is in shackles?" he turned his gaze to the prisoner sitting slightly to the side.
"Tor Vizsla is a traitor, as was his father. Their clan organized an entire operation on how to get rid of Shade. When Khan threw him a challenge, Aero simply had no chance."
"Had no chance?" Tor Vizsla interjected. "And never mind that Aero had the Force? Is that fair?"
"It was given to him from birth!" the head of Clan Stick raised his voice. "Khan went out against him in beskar, with a clan sword, and fully armed! Moreover, you even brought ysalamiri. I saw myself how, just before the fight began, members of your clan surrounded the arena, holding those lizards in their arms, on this side of the shield. You initially forced Aero to play by your rules, on your field, and you still lost anyway. He not only survived, but won!"
"Though not for long," Tor smiled, for which he received a blow to the teeth from the guard standing nearby. "Heh-heh-heh..."
"Clan Vizsla has repeatedly violated our laws of honor, but now they have managed to cross the line, defiling the sacred code of the duel. Moreover, as we have learned, representatives of Clan Vizsla were preparing a provocation, intending to stage an attack on one of our farms. Fortunately, some of their representatives came to their senses and managed to warn us," a nod toward the warrior standing on the other side with Clan Vizsla symbolism on his shoulder.
"Traitors," Tor growled.
"Having preserved remnants of honor," the fighter disagreed. "I was ready to put up with the plan—to kill Aero, but I and some of my brothers and sisters are not ready to kill our own children. Yes, the farm didn't belong to us, but nevertheless, our people are there. I and those with me are ready to accept punishment and go into exile, but we ask to pass our gear to our descendants. That is all we ask."
"Wait, Erayne," the head of Clan Fett stopped the warrior. "It's not about you. But about what Clan Vizsla was ready to go for for the sake of its goals, which still remain unclear. Tor, answer us, why?"
"Because you are idiots and weaklings," Tor spat. "We were great, the whole galaxy feared us, but who are we now? Just a bunch of mercenaries. We haven't had a leader for a long time, a strong leader capable of returning those times."
"And what about Aero?"
"Aero is an outsider. You fools think he really wanted to help us, but we have no friends and never have."
"We did!" a cry rang out from the back rows. Warren Stick stepped forward from the gathered clan heads. "We had both friends and allies. And Aero is one of them! You, scum, just forgot what honor means, forgot our past!"
"Warren," his father rebuked the Mandalorian. "Tor, we checked your income. In recent years you earned a great deal for trivial work. You say we have no friends, but tell Us, who were You friends with?"
"No one."
"Then with what money did you conduct the modification of your cruiser? We have already clarified that MandalMotors has nothing to do with it, and the other clans don't either. You didn't touch your own money. The question is, how and where?"
"Ourselves."
"Tor. You either speak yourself, or we help you."
"You won't succeed," Tor Vizsla smiled maliciously.
"Why?"
"I know nothing. I simply have nothing to tell you; my father didn't let me in on such details. The only thing I know—we had one constant employer, but who it is—I don't know. Otherwise, I was aware of the plans directly related to our future."
"And what was in it?"
"According to the plan, no provocations were required. My father decided to wait until Aero took the title of Mandalore and then take it away. Since that didn't work out, we decided to return to the previous variant."
"And who would you have made guilty?"
"You."
Such an answer knocked everyone present off balance.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Aero spoiled our reputation at every convenient opportunity. He was smarter than all of you put together; he realized what we wanted to do and didn't let us. Но with his death it became possible. For Mandalore to become stronger, the ballast must be discarded."
"Can I shoot him?" a quiet whisper rang out.
"No," to the surprise of many, Warren himself answered.
"Why?"
"Enough shedding brothers' blood. Enough looking askance at each other. Duke Kryze, heads of the Concord Dawn clans, I want to remind you of what Mandalore the Resurrector fought for. For our unification. Enough shedding blood."
"I propose acting by the Republic law, and confining Tor in..." the Duke began, but broke off under the gazes of the others.
"No."
"Exiling him is dangerous for us," someone in the hall reminded of such a small detail. "Tor knows much. It's in his nature to blab too much."
"And yet, I propose exile," Warren would not be moved. "But not just anywhere. I propose exiling him in a hardsuit, on an asteroid. And all those who were ready to lift a blaster against their own with him."
"Hm..."
"Fair."
"I'm for it."
"Supported."
"Y-y-you wouldn't dare! I am one of you!"
"Not anymore," the head of Clan Ordo shook his head. "If that is decided, then take him away."
Picking up the kicking prisoner by the arms, they dragged him out of the hall.
"Now you," the gaze moved to the other side, where the admitted representative of the surrendered side stood. "By ancient tradition, we exile you from the clans. However, the right to return honor and join other clans remains with you. Weapons and armor remain yours. Does anyone have anything to add?" the last words were addressed to the rest, but everyone expressed agreement.
"Thank you," the fighter bowed slightly.
"Go."
Having waited for another group to leave the hall, the meeting continued:
"The next question on the agenda—what shall we do in these circumstances?"
"The TNC company continues to provide us with support," the head of Clan Stick answered immediately. "As does HIT. I think in the near future we will fully achieve self-sufficiency."
"It's true, our economy is going up," the head of Clan Dolraton, from the members of the Duke's council, nodded. "Already next year we will close half our needs."
"And who leads HIT?"
"Talia; she could have become Aero's bride. And with her... things aren't so simple."
"In what sense?"
"Warren?" the head of Clan Stick redirected the question to his son.
"The fact is that far from everyone is aware that they even dated—that's first. And second, Talia is carrying his child. If those two factors become known, the girl will have very big problems, not to mention huge ones. Currently I have taken over the leadership of the RAVEN PMC and am ensuring her safety, but as practice has shown, even in such conditions she needs normal bodyguards."
"Isn't it better then to hide the mother and child?"
"Won't work. First of all—because of her position. Besides, the company is in limbo; Aero didn't leave a will, because of which the company belongs to a certain Hego Damask. The Muun with whom Shade conducted business. Even if he is not involved in this story, as soon as rumors of an heir reach him... I think you understand yourselves what will happen."
"If HIT and TNC leave us, we'll be left without a shield before the Republic. A new conflict might begin."
"That means it's necessary to ensure that both the mother and the heir remain in order!"
"I can allocate my best fighters," Clan Ordo proposed.
"Allocating people is not enough. I remind you that an extremely influential Hutt has settled right on Tatooine. We need to create conditions so that without our knowledge, that slug can't even squeak. Moreover, I propose moving our military industry to Tatooine and getting a good foothold there. HIT will cover all legal questions, well and no one will have claims against us."
"Wait a minute!" the Duke interjected. "You want to propose that we arm ourselves?"
"Yes."
"But that goes against our policy!"
"Kryze, if you want peace, then you'll have to prepare for war. Enough being afraid; it's time to rise from our knees. We perfectly understand what you did and what you achieved, certainly. Moreover, I won't speak for others, I'll only speak for myself—I don't consider you a traitor with your pacifism policy. I understand the necessity of those measures. But those times are past. We are too few, and we need strength with which we can protect both ourselves and our friends from HIT."
"Preparing for war—is already a reason to worry."
"Let them worry," one of the clan heads nodded. "Let them worry and know that if they come to us, they won't leave."
"Regarding the factories. There are a series of problems," the head of MandalMotors interjected, changing the subject. "They are primarily connected with the Techno Union."
"What exactly is the problem?"
"They have a substantial block of shares."
"So?"
"We can't just transfer the factories."
"There's no need. Let some of the employees move to our other organization. Formally, you can say that you don't have the personnel to continue activity in the military sphere. It's both an excuse and a profit. And since there are no employees, sell the unused equipment to us."
"Hm... a good thought."
"It was thought of long ago; only needed to prepare the base," Warren shook his head.
"Ahem. Returning to the incident on Concord Dawn," the Duke drew attention. "Is there anything on the investigation?"
"No."
"And who is leading it?"
"Everyone."
"We've already notified all our people. Searching for any traces. After closing the meeting, representatives of Clan Stick will head to Oba Diah to ask the Pykes a couple of questions. Members of Clan Ordo will talk with the Hutts. Whoever it was, he'll regret it."
***
Six months later. Jabba the Hutt
To Jabba's surprise, finding the owner turned out to be so simple that initially no one believed it. But no. After all the checks, which dragged on for a month, Jabba was convinced that a certain Hego Damask, head of the Banking Clan, was indeed a co-founder of HIT. Hearing that someone wanted to contact him, Hego Damask reached out himself, albeit through third parties. After all, conducting business directly with a gangster was beneath the head of the Banking Clan.
Nevertheless, in the course of negotiations both reached an agreement. A contract was drafted in which Jabba became a co-founder and sponsor of HIT, investing huge sums. But that was only on the surface; at the first personal meeting on a spaceship, they drafted their own agreement, which stated:
Jabba becomes a co-founder and takes ten percent of the company's shares. Also, he receives the opportunity to carry contraband under the cover of TNC freighters. In return the Hutt gives a percentage of his activity directly to Damask. Moreover, after the main competitor was gone, the Desilijic kajidic rose seriously on the political and criminal arena and in turn could provide good support if needed, which was included in the terms of the agreement with Damask.
Unfortunately, it wasn't possible to finalize the contract quickly. Even taking into account the acceleration of the process from both sides, because of the mud stirred up from the bottom around Tatooine, the process was being slowed down to the full program, including by Jedi and Mandalorians sticking their noses everywhere.
The latter stood out especially, as they had no desire to participate in such a deal, even on the TNC side. Nevertheless, they couldn't refuse either; if not for Talia, it's quite possible that RAVEN would have refused the contract with TNC.
And so, after another six months of red tape, the sides finally legalized the relations and met once more, on neutral territory, to celebrate the matter.
"Hego... I am very glad we have concluded this agreement with you. Your ships are already bringing us simply fantastic dividends. Flying almost unhindered to the central worlds, and under Mandalorian mercenary guard at that, mmm!"
"Jabba... it seems there are only two in our agreement," Damask answered unkindly.
"Yes, so?"
"Why did I hear that you reached an agreement with the Pykes?"
"They are just supplying product, nothing more. The sales percentage is accounted for!"
"If so, then everything is in order," Damask softened, raising a glass. "Shall we drink to our success then?"
"Waaaa!" the Hutt supported approvingly.
Only, at that very moment Damask's assistant entered the cabin.
"Dara?" the Muun was surprised, as the girl looked troubled. "Did something happen?"
"Master... I have bad news."
"Well?"
"Shade Aero..."
"What?"
"He has risen."
Clink!
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: patreon.com/Granulan