Nar Kaaga
The ship came out of hyperspace at the edge of the system, right outside the sensors of the new Hutt fleet. Over time, the number of ships entering the system had slowed down considerably. The two-hundred-strong fleet was the single largest fleet gathered in one system in recent memory.
He patted Ventress on the shoulder, taking the helm. He pulled on the dimensional energies, breaking the space in front of the ship into fragments. They were out of sight and undetectable to sensors, but the crystalline parts would act as unbreakable surfaces. One wrong move would be deadly.
“You are good at this,” Ventress said. He weaved through the spikes and shards like a pilot with decades of experience, not a boy of fourteen.
“How many times did you fly a ship?” she asked.
“This is the second time.”
“You must be joking.”
He smirked, combing a hand through his hair. “What can I say, Ventress? I am a natural.”
“This isn’t just being natural. Force must be aiding you.”
“Ugh, don’t mention the Force to me,” he groaned. Even the mention of it brought that infernal vision to his mind. And the fact that the Force had created him.
“Why not? We should even get your midi-chlorian count checked out,” she suggested. Out of respect for his privacy, she did not peer into his signature in the Force. What she felt superficially painted him as a powerhouse.
"It's over twenty thousand, even higher than Yoda’s. The Jedi think I am the Chosen One.”
Qymaen hacked, caught in a sudden coughing fit.
“Are you?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t give a bantha poodoo.”
“Chosen One of the Force and a student of the Mystic Arts. I wonder what other surprises you have.”
“You’ll see,” he said cryptically.
Ventress rolled her eyes, reaching across to flick the boy’s ear. Just as she was within striking range, the collar of his cloak struck her hand like a whip.
“What in the Force?” she hissed, pulling her hand back. The collar was wagging back and forth, like it was warning her.
“Did your cloak just hit me?”
“It did.”
“More Mystic Arts?”
“The Cloak of Levitation is an artifact, a sentient one at that. He is actually my master’s but agreed to come with me rather than being stuck down there.”
“Why is your master not joining the war?”
“There are shackles on his soul. They keep him confined to a specific area.”
“Which means there are things that can stop you.”
“Considering it is the power of the first demon, Chthon, that he had to use to save his home, yes,” he said. He was researching a way to cleanse the corruption in his teacher’s soul, but it was proving to be difficult. He might have to consider alternate solutions to this conundrum.
“Let us leave this conversation for later. We are close to the ship,” Qymaen said, keeping an eye on his brother. He thought there would be a cost to what the Mystic Arts could do. Being a prisoner of one’s own soul was certainly a horrible price to pay.
Anakin guided the ship inside the Lucrehulk, following a wing of vulture droids. The organic crew of the Hutt fleet were being instructed by Neimodians on the operation of the ship. B1 and B2 model droids were working around, mainly carrying supplies.
He landed the ship at the furthest side of the hangar, away from any possible collusion.
“Alright,” he said, opening a portal outside. He went first, with Ventress and Qymaen behind. The Izvoshra followed. Artoo beeped, strapped to Rrakkis’ back, demanding to be let down.
“Just hold on tight, Artoo,” he said, jogging forward. His physical condition was great, owed to years of training. His companions weren’t lacking either. The presence of the droids slowed them down considerably to avoid any accidents. The droids would be fine, but they didn’t share that fortune.
From the hangar on the right wing to the control system deep in the bowels of the ship, they had to cover a distance of one and a half kilometers. With their current speed, it would only take ten minutes.
—
The central control system was defended by droidekas. Heavily shielded with more than enough firepower to mow down squads, it was a dangerous weapon. They were inert, though.
Given there were no dangers to the ship, it made sense they would be inactive. Any detection of an activity would wake the two dozen droids. Even then, he could deal with them easily.
“We should retreat,” Ventress said, eyes locked on the old, distinguished gentleman before them. With a white beard and hair, he was dressed in a set of dark tunics and trousers, touting a brown cape with two lightsabers at his belt. He was speaking to a Hutt, the new speaker of the Council.
“If an alliance between us can be reached, we can supply the mighty Hutt Council with all the weapons they will ever need.”
“That’s Count Dooku. The queen knew he had something to do with Nute Gunray, but the details weren’t clear. I don’t know how good you are, but he is deadly.”
Anakin rolled his eyes. If Count Dooku wanted to negotiate a treaty with the Hutts, then he was going to die too.
“Stay back,” he warned. As he exited the Mirror Dimension, he brought his hands together, thumb, ring, and pinky curled, index and middle fingers straight. His left hand was lower than his right, with extended fingers on level with his right palm. A line of eldritch energy gathered, transforming into two mandalas on his hands. He crossed his arms at shoulder level and thrusted his hands forward.
Count Dooku sensed the immediate danger through the Force. He pulled his lightsaber, trying to block the eldritch lightning bolts.
Unfortunately for the Sith lord, the Sith lightning was nothing compared to the Bolts of Balthakk. Twin eldritch bolts struck his lightsaber, splitting into many smaller bolts that bypassed his defense. They charred small sections of his flesh, mostly his shoulders and abdomen, eventually short-circuiting his lightsaber.
He redirected the bolts.
They pierced through the shields of the droidekas, annihilating the two dozen droids.
Finally, he dismissed them, standing before the whimpering Hutt and Count Dooku, screaming in pain like a wounded animal.
“Sithspit,” Ventress cursed. One of the best lightsaber duelers and the strongest Force users out there was taken out with a single spell. He didn’t even have the chance to defend himself.
Anakin strolled to the Hutt, opening a portal beneath him, straight to Tatooine.
He put his foot on Dooku’s neck, cutting his airway. “Wait,” Dooku gasped. Any lesser being would have died from those wounds. He could feel the dark side of the Force keeping him alive by feeding on the very pain he was feeling.
“We can negotiate,” he offered, choking.
“Like you negotiated with those slavers? No thank you. I would like you to die now,” he said, pressing harder. He took a deep breath, trying to pull his feet back, but found an invisible force keeping them there.
“I can give you a more valuable target.” Dooku’s struggles got weaker. Even the dark side couldn’t negate an organic’s need to breathe.
“Oh?” he said, pulling his foot back, letting the Sith take gulps of breath. “Who would that be?”
“Gunray,” Dooku struggled to say, crawling away from him.
“Nute Gunray? The Viceroy of the Trade Federation?” he asked for confirmation, eyes shining.
“Yes, him! He is on Nar Kaaga now.”
“Summon him here and you are free to go,” he said. This would be a great gift to Padme and an even greater blow to the prestige of the Hutts. They couldn’t even protect an individual like Nute Gunray in their own space.
“We should not forget what we came here for,” Qymaen hissed. Already the klaxons were blaring. An army of droids would be upon them soon.
“Don’t worry. Not only are we going to win, we are going to take Gunray too. Let’s see anyone sell weapons to the Hutts after that.”
“He is right. If Gunray is captured, no weapon seller will risk inviting his wrath,” she said, watching the almighty Count Dooku crawl away like a cowardly Weequay. It brought a smile to her lips to see a Jedi, even if a former one, so helpless.
“Call him now, Dooku. Even the dark side can’t keep you alive forever. Also, order the ship to stand down.”
“Viceroy, meet me in the droid control center. Immediately,” he ordered, falling on his face, unable to move out any longer.
"Understood, my lord." Gunray’s voice came, high-pitched as if he were caught doing something he shouldn’t.
“What a loyal little minion.”
“He will die if we don’t do something,” Ventress said. She didn’t care if Dooku died. She only wanted to see what the sorcerer would do to report back to the queen.
Anakin was already reaching through a portal, taking out a tube of bacta on a syringe. He handed it to Ventress, letting her experienced hands stabilize Dooku.
“Commander, stand down. It was merely a demonstration,” Dooku said, his breath coming out with grunts.
“Are you certain, my lord?”
“Yes!”
“Apologies. Standing down now.”
“Artoo, handle the control center,” he ordered. In his mind, he was doing the breathing exercises to calm his anger. This bastard wanted to ally with the Hutts, to sell them weapons to continue their oppression. He had made a promise to Padme, something he almost broke, and didn’t want to be a cold-blooded murderer.
No matter how much people like Dooku begged for it.
Stabilized for now, Dooku fell into a slumber. He would need medical attention soon. For now, his chances of survival depended on Gunray’s speed.
—
Either Gunray was very loyal or very afraid. It had taken the Neimoidian five minutes to reach the control center, riding a hovercraft. “My lord, I came as quickly as I could.”
He stopped, seeing the state of the area. He screamed for help, but Ventress was quick to pull him towards herself with the Force, laying him low with a spinning kick. He went out like a light.
“Nice,” he said, dropping him right inside the throne room on Theed.
Artoo retracted his scomp link, beeping that it was done. Anakin opened a portal back to Strange Tides, allowing the team to move in. He blasted out of the hangar, reaching outside the weapon range of the fleet to watch the show.
It did not disappoint.
Each ship considered itself a member of a different faction, and the rest were the enemy. Ones who had to be destroyed with maximum prejudice. Entire wings of vulture droids suicide bombed the nearest enemy ship. Within such close range, each ship had clear firing solutions. The horrible targeting software of the droids was negligible in these ranges.
He recorded every single second of it.
One Lucrehulk, going down in flames, accelerated forward, slamming through a Munificent-class frigate before meeting another Lucrehulk head to head. The explosion was glorious, leaving several more frigates out of action.
Providence classes were low in number but made up for it with their firepower. They barreled through from one end of the battlefield to the other, raining turbo lasers, shattering the frigates like toys.
He wanted to dance in the light of the explosions.
—
While the Hutt Fleet tore itself apart, a solar sailer sped away from the battle. Its occupants, the heavily wounded Count Dooku and the medical droid he kept aboard, barely made it out under the intense firefight. It was only due to the fact no droids targeted them, too busy scraping each other.
His condition was critical.
Once the ship was in hyperspace, the droid worked to stabilize his condition until a more adequate medical facility could be found. In his sedated state, his mind raged. That green boy had defeated him without any effort. He, a Sith lord, Darth Tyrannus, had lost like a Jedi initiate might lose to Yoda.
Not only that, he had to sell Nute Gunray to survive.
His master would be enraged, and Tyrannus would feel every single bit of it. Gunray had to be silenced immediately before that coward gave away their plans. He didn’t know where the sorcerer had sent him, but Tatooine was the only possible location.
Any alliance with the Hutts was gone as well. Not only was their new speaker gone, so was the fleet sold to them. This loss would officially destroy any resemblance of prestige the Hutt Council had.
The sorcerer was more dangerous than he could have imagined, and he didn’t know what to do.
—
Naboo
Theed Royal Palace
Padme was reading the latest state of Naboo’s arms production in silence. Her handmaidens were in the room as always, keeping watchful eyes for any possible dangers. They tensed, as did she, when another one of Anakin’s portals opened. Different from the rest, this one was opened parallel to the floor in the air.
The unwilling passenger that came out of it almost had her eyes popping out of her skull.
Nute Gunray had just fallen at her feet.
Her handmaidens leaped to action, blasters out, pointed at the still form of the Viceroy of the Trade Federation. Seile knelt down, checking for a pulse. “He is alive,” she reported, taking her place.
“Oh, this is the best gift I received in years,” she cried out. “Take him to the cells. I want him watched at all times. In fact, no one except you are allowed in the cells.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” they repeated as one, dragging the Gunray out.
Padme burst out shrieking in joy. She didn’t know how, for the life of her, that Anakin managed to find Gunray. Last she heard, he was on a mission to destroy the Hutt Fleet.
Which meant Nute Gunray was in the Nar Kaaga system. Knowing the trillions of credits and other currencies that the Hutts spent to buy such a large fleet, it wouldn’t be surprising for Gunray to be there. He would no doubt try to sell more, promising discounts for bulk purchases.
For such a large transaction, no one else but the Viceroy of the Trade Federation would do.
She called Ventress’ hyperspace communications link. While they should still be in the middle of the operation, Gunray’s capture showed promise.
“Your Majesty,” Ventress greeted, a lazy smirk on her face.
“Asajj, what happened?”
“I assume you received the Sorcerer’s gift?”
“I did. And what a gift it was.”
“We are still in the Nar Kaaga system, waiting for the fleet to finish destroying itself. I’ll send a written report as soon as the fireworks are over. You will love what he has done,” she promised. Padme bit her tongue, wanting to ask more. However, her agent was on a battlefield, and anything could happen. A bit of patience would save them from a host of potential troubles.
“I can’t wait. Padme out.”
Ventress winked out with a bow.
She stretched, feeling lighter than she had in years.