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Month 11 - Chapter 14: Incandescent Fury

The trip to Kalee took six weeks, and my memories were bothering me the whole way there. I recall something happening to cause Grievous to go off the deep end, and it involved egg-eaters. I've also spent every spare moment studying with the tutor droid, so I haven't been able to rack my brain on the matter.

We had appeared in the orbit of the world to see a small fleet of armed freighters either leaving or entering Kalee's atmosphere. HK immediately begins scanning them.

"Declaration: There is an abnormal density of life signs within the cargo holds of those ships. Theory: We have stumbled across a slave raid."

I wrap my hands together, and sit on the captain's chair.

"HK, begin counterpiracy operations. The No Such Thing as Free and Gunboat Diplomat are to begin following any of these pirate freighters to wherever they came from if they leave the system. All other ships are to begin boarding operations. I want the captains of those ships alive, as well as the people they're taking for slaves. Everything else is fair game. Also, please inform the Jedi to begin helping out in that regard."

My incredibly intimidating fleet begins burning full-tilt for what I suspect are Yam'rii vessels, and immediately begin firing into their midst with Ion Cannons and dragging them towards docking ports with tractor beams. Six of the freighters we just disabled were dragged towards the Laxative Delivery, and I could see over the holocameras and feeds from the droids that my small army of HKs were taking point, as were a pair of the Jedi.

I turn to regard HK.

"Once boarding operations are complete, we'll begin landing operations to flatten the invading force and relieve the Kaleesh planetary defense forces. Something about this is giving me a bad feeling that I've forgotten something deeply unpleasant. You'll be getting a new, more 'fun' assignment after we figure out who's running these freighters."

He nods.

We both watch the holocam feeds, and see.. Giant mantises begin trying to fight our boarding parties hand-to-hand, and end up being minimally successful on account of the Jedi.

"Declaration: I do not recognize this species of insectoid meatbag, though the Holonet appears to have some information on them. We appear to have found Yam'rii warriors performing illegal activities."

"...Yam'rii.. Why does- the fucking egg eaters! Goddamnit. HK-47, you're assigned to go to the Yam'rii colonies and find exhaustive evidence on their activities. We are nipping this cannibalistic slaver nation in the bud before those idiot Republic diplomats make this into a debacle of the century. Take the Memetic Hazard and dig through their colonies' databases. Do what you have to, so long as it cannot be traced back to us. If you find slaves, make an honest attempt at giving them a way out of that mess."

"Statement: I shall take great pleasure in being let off the metaphorical leash." HK leaves the bridge.

I call up Master Aqinos. "Aqinos, it appears I have more information; these fucking roaches are on a government-approved deniable operation."

Aqinos responds after a few moments. "That explains why they're so organized. Normal pirates generally don't standardize to this level, and they have.. Well, for lack of better words, a uniform. We've taken this ship, and their captain refused to be taken alive."

I sigh. "Typical. They always assign the disposable fanatics to these sorts of things. Get the Kaleesh out of there and see about giving them food and medical attention. We'll begin landing operations after your students finish up."

Within fifteen minutes, the rest of the boarding teams send out the all-clear, and I find my hangars full of mutilated and injured Kaleesh, primarily of the younger end of the spectrum. My droids also found evidence of the fucking Yam'rii using prisoners as field rations, right down to infants. The Jedi are almost as livid as I am at this turn of events, but are distracting themselves with tending to the injured and helping direct my droids.

I order the shuttles to begin landing operations, and wait. I don't have the knowledge or field experience to be involved in anything beyond broad mission directives. All I can do is wait and hope my droids, with the help of the Jedi, can successfully end the latest attack so I can begin reprisals at the source. Of course, knowing the fucking bugs, they'll go whinge at their contacts in the senate and then I get strangled with bureaucracy until the heat death of the universe.

I turn back to the cameras to observe as the T3s, with armed escorts, begin trawling through the freighters' computers for useful data. The droids clearly hit paydirt not long after, going by the excited chirping.

Not long after, the data is transferred and I get my first real look at how the Yam'rii have been conducting their raids; 'counterinsurgency operations' against major cities, burning down religious institutions, and quotas for capturing specific age-ranges of Kaleesh. Good lord, the warcrimes on their computers already gives me a lot of ammo for when the bureaucrats show up, and when HK returns, I'll have a goddamn Sword of Damocles ready for them.

Of course, that requires me to remain sufficiently calm to not go straight to Huk and start burning the place down from orbit, and the temptation is all but impossible to ignore. Thankfully, I'm not a complete idiot and installed a 'base delta zero' button on the arm of the chair. Memes have a time and a place, and destroying a planetary biosphere is not a sustainable business model.

I eventually retire to my room, telling one of my droids to inform me when HK-47 gets back or if a hyperspace jump is detected.

- - - - six hours later - - - -

Unfortunately, sleep evades me, so I begin a lesson with the tutor droid.

- - - - 12 hours later - - - -

I spent most of the day studying after failing to take a nap in the hopes that the work would distract me. By that point, the current wave of slavers had been crushed, and the snowball effect of tireless droids wrapping up the remaining pockets of the fuckers was very quick.

Eventually, I get a call from the surface, specifically from Aqinos. "Hatton, are you busy? I've got a pair of Kaleesh leaders asking to see the people we've freed from the 'Huk' ships, a Qymaen jai Sheelal and a Ronderu lij Kummar."

Why did those names sound so familiar?... "I'd be happy to let them come aboard, Aqinos. Please also pick up any damaged droids while you're at it."

- - - -

Eventually, Aqinos' ship finally arrives, and I get my first look at who I recognize as a younger, pre-cyborg General Grievous and someone I don't recognize. As soon as they exit Aqinos' ship, they find that half of the hangar had been turned into an ad-hoc field hospital.

I begin making my way down to the hangar where they've arrived, mentally preparing for two very emotionally fucked-up individuals and what will probably be a verbal reaming.

The door opens, and I find the two Kaleesh looking right at me. The female speaks first. "You are this… Hatton individual Jedi Master Aqinos was speaking of?"

"I am. I assume you're Ronderu and Qymaen?"

Grievous rolls his eyes at my butchered pronunciation.

"Listen, I don't have much exposure to your people's language. Take some chill pills, I'm trying to help you folks."

Ronderu raises a hand before Qymaen loses his temper. "Sorry, it gets tiresome when offworlders consistently mispronounce our names."

"It happens." I look at the field of people getting medical care. "Sorry I'm late. There's metaphorical fires all over the galaxy due to Republic mishandling of various situations."

Ronderu and Qymaen both look very confused at this revelation. "You are not from the Galactic Republic?"

I chuckle darkly. "Their official title's a misnomer, and I'm not a citizen of that currently-collapsing house of cards. I represent myself and only myself, and Master Aqinos was estranged from the Jedi order some years back due to some differences of opinion on doctrine."

They nod, starting to piece together a few things.

"Then why have you come to help our people? In our experience, no offworlders save for the Huk come to Kalee."

"Because letting scumbag cannibal roaches get away with this sort of shit is bad for business, and I trust the Kaleesh to honor their word more than the Yam'rii."

The two kaleesh share a meaningful look between each other.

"And no, I'm not going to drown you in debt like the banking clans might. If you'll join me, I'd like to discuss a few matters with you."

Qymaen speaks next, before Ronderu could temper him. "So long as this is not treachery, I will listen."

"Good."

We walk to the mess hall, and there I speak at length.

"The Republic is failing. The core worlds are drowning in corruption, and I'm doing my best to make sure galactic civilization isn't drug down with it. In some years, there will be an alliance of worlds that will make a stand against this mess. I want you to join them. I'll put you in contact with Mandalore, as they have more resources to spare right now than you do, and they have an honor code that I'm sure you'll agree with. Help them help you, and you'll both be better for it. Once all of your people aboard my ship are stabilized, I'll begin transporting them to the surface."

Qymaen nods. "And do you intend to join this hypothetical coalition?"

"No, I plan to remain neutral. All-out-war is an absolute last resort, and in order to prevent that, I plan to get the Jedi to act as a neutral party with me. There needs to be some third-party oversight on what's to come, or else it'll be the Succession Wars all over again."

"..Succession wars?"

"A deeply unpleasant series of wars that dragged a civilization back to the stone age. Tends to happen when you treat nuclear warheads like you might fly-swatters. I have to prepare for the inevitable arrival of politicians. Good luck, and safe travels. Also, don't go starting a reprisal with the bugs, at least not yet. You're not yet strong enough to survive the court of public opinion, and I plan to deal with them myself."

I hand them a holocommunicator with instructions on how to get ahold of Jaster, as well as copies of the information I acquired from the captured freighters.

Neither of the Kaleesh have a response, though Qymean looks offended by what I said about strength.

- - - - a few hours later - - - -

HK, at long last, returns, and I go to meet him. Of course, a small wave of people join him off the ship. I don't recognize many of the species, but there are Kaleesh among them.

"Declaration: Master, I have returned from a bout of ultraviolence. The meatbags never knew what hit them, and I have successfully rescued several unknown meatbag species from their farms."

"I can see that. Let's head to the bridge."

We leave the rescues in the hangar to be treated, and head to the bridge. HK hands me a storage device on the way.

"Found useful data?"

"Answer: Yes. I have learned quite a great deal about how to kill giant bugs, and I have also acquired the data you requested in regards to their activities."

"Glad you had fun, HK. I'll let the T3s sift through the data to make sure we have what we need to shut this mess down."

I go over to the holoterminal on the bridge, and call up Mace. "How'd the raid go?"

Mace looks as grumpy as usual. "It went well enough, though some of the Jedi knights assigned to the task were maimed. We have captured the would-be apprentice, but his master escaped. Orsis Academy, of course, has been shut down in response to their breach of contract."

"Well, good to hear, aside from the injuries. Had young Maul survived that?"

"The Zabrak in question has been remanded to the Order's custody, though he's a little old to be trained."

I roll my eyes. "Well, I intend to track down his mother once I'm done dealing with this mess on Kaleesh. The Yam'rii have been sponsoring slave raids against them, and I'll be sure to leave this particular headache in the order's hands. Sending you the files now."

Mace reads the datapad he transferred the files to after a few moments. "..By the force, how did we miss this?"

"Because there's a third party making messes and obfuscating the Jedi's usual methods. I believe you're already aware. Anyways, I recommend sending some folks, including the Service Corps, to help out here. I'll be contacting the Mandalorians to help as well."

Mace nods. "May the force be with you."

"And with you."

I hang up, and then call Jaster.

"Hatton! It's been a while, I've been getting worried…. That look in your face makes me nervous. What have you found?"

"I'm over Kalee right now. The Yam'ree have been sponsoring slave raids here, and been farming their people for eggs and meat. I've already sent word to the Jedi, and I'd like your folks to help the Kaleesh back up on their feet and keep an eye on things. I'll stick around until either you or the Jedi send folks over, and then I need to take a fucking break from putting out fires."

His expression becomes grim, and then catastrophically still. "I'll send the Serial Peacemaker over to keep an eye on things. I trust you've got plans for the reprisal?"

"I do, and it involves making sure the Yam'rii's sponsors throw the fucking roaches under the metaphorical bus. Sending you the data now. I recommend avoiding getting directly involved; let the Jedi catch the flak and make sure your people come in looking like big damn heroes. Play the long game, Jaster, it's our only chance at resolving this mess without turning the galaxy into a flaming shitpile."

He nods. "Stay safe out there."

"I make no promises, Jaster."

I end the call.

"Declaration: Detecting hyperspace transmission. Registering a courier droid on approach." One of the HKs on the bridge calls out. "It's transmitting a diplomatic signal, Republic Senate." I sigh. "Keep it recorded. If this is something underhanded, I want evidence."

I begin heading down to a hangar. By this point, only a couple dozen of the freed slaves are still aboard, and they're already being moved to the surface with medical droids and armed escorts. I wait until they leave, and then tell the droids to let the courier aboard.

I'll describe the courier for you now; imagine a big long tube with an engine on the back and an opening compartment. Essentially, this thing's an exceptionally expensive engine with hyperspace capability, with a relatively small compartment for cargo.

I have one of the HKs check credentials, and it's confirmed to have been paid for by a senator's assistant, specifically… Sate Pestage. Fuck.

"Well, no time like the present. Bomb sniffers pick anything up?"

"Answer: Negative. No explosives detected."

I open the courier, and inside resides a decent-sized box. No holoprojectors, no recordings. I open it, and immediately regret opening it. Inside is a giant stack of active thermal detonators.

"....Seriously?"

I attempt to slam it closed and leap away, and I hear one of the droids on the intercom declare something, and then everything flashes into agony and light.