"Warriors of honor, my ass..."
Spitting on the ground, I ignored the dissatisfied looks of the guard fixed on my back. Slowly descending the palace steps, I reflected on how the events in this petty little war had concluded...
To start with, the battered retinues of Jaster and Tapal were now "marching arm-in-arm" to face the surviving remnants of the Death Watch in the future. After the battle, it turned out everyone had been mauled... The Death Watchmen most of all, of course, but the others took such a hit that they'll be recovering and recruiting fresh meat for a couple of years.
As soon as the battle ended, my shuttle took the wounded Duke and the leader of the True Mandalorians, whisking them away toward the capital. Urgent measures had to be taken to ensure the loyalty of the majority of the army. Not to mention that the capital's security was in question.
Before a common enemy, the two Mandalorian factions united and began working together... God, that sounds so cloying, though it looked even worse. Like I'd stepped into a shitty cartoon.
"They might as well hold hands... Mandalorian fairies."
In a couple of days, incredible changes occurred throughout the sector, and the joint appearance of the two leaders drew genuine ovations. Mandalore was expecting major changes, ranging from a change in the type of government to a multitude of new reforms introduced by the victors while the beaten enemies hid in corners.
I was also invited to this madhouse... But I chose the bar and the company of my thinned-out soldiers, of whom barely a third of the initial number remained.
"Shit... The ship is out of commission. People are dead. Almost no money... A total disaster."
And I wasn't joking.
I didn't care what Tapal and Jaster had agreed on; I was much more interested in my reward. And when it came down to it, that old rogue the Duke and Meryl, standing beside him, tried to screw me out of my hard-earned profits.
But the true Republican-Democrat in my soul was able to fight back.
Well...
To be more precise, I had a rough idea of how things would turn out in the end. Watching how deftly they conducted business, sometimes forgetting their "honor" and "pacifist views," it became clear—if I didn't squeeze their balls, this pair of "besties" would leave me penniless. I'd probably even end up owing them.
So I covered myself from head to toe in shrapnel explosives under my cloak. And when these two "Beboc and Rolo" were preaching to me from the platform in sweet, soothing voices, I suddenly threw open my coat, flasher-style—demonstrating all the beauty of the explosives on my body.
That's when the conversation became much more productive. Though, even then, I had to record it and broadcast it live to the corvette. Otherwise, I'm afraid they would have put a blaster bolt in my head and called it a day.
In the end, I was stiffed on a lot. To start with, the "Pursuers" gave me the finger and vanished, remaining only in my fantasies. It turned out they can't sell their sector's patrol ships. They have contracts with MandalMotors, and the company doesn't want products going to outsiders...
"Patriotic views, you understand, Sam?"
Bastards, goddammit.
But I managed to tear away two infantry transports, even if the discount on them wasn't as impressive as Meryl had promised. And the ships themselves were morally obsolete, even if they were of decent quality, but even such pieces were worth it, considering our fleet consisted of a single corvette of a modified model.
Somnia was ready to rip my balls off right over the holocomm, cursing me for all I was worth, reproaching me for spending all the money she'd earned. Who knew that behind my friend's mask hid a real Toydarian—the local equivalent of a greedy merchant.
Though... I sometimes get the feeling that the whole galaxy is populated by Toydarians, and they're just pretending to be Humans and other creatures.
But let's get on with it...
There will be no help in finding volunteers for my ranks. Meryl and the Duke decided to keep the flow of good Assassins for themselves, along with the profit and reputation that would come as a bonus.
As I understand it, the leader of the New Mandalorians somehow talked the Senate into it or gained an influential acquaintance who helps him be so arrogant. And even if the Assassins won't be listed as a regular army, it's still a large military formation that can be used for all sorts of purposes... Well, whatever. Let them figure it out themselves. I hope the Judicial Forces or the Baobabs light a fire under their asses for their arrogance.
As a handout, I was allowed to open a recruitment station, but the spot they allocated was in the absolute middle of nowhere, practically on the edge of the capital... And this is a dome-city, by the way. The outer districts here look more like a junkyard, only with people instead of trash.
And finally, they offered to repair our corvette... With a discount, of course.
So I walked along cursing, berating the traders who put on armor and sang about honor.
One thing in all this was good. Rick Dicker contacted me even before the pair of Mandalorians began seizing power. Dryly thanking me, he said he got the expected result, even if he had hoped for better. But I would get my reward, and two Carrack-class light cruisers would be waiting for me at Rishi and would pass into my full use... After payment, of course.
I suppressed the initial urge to contact Somnia at the root. Remembering the girl's angry face during our last conversation... Brrr.
But fate is cruel to its heroes. No sooner had I stepped off the last step of the palace than Somnia called me herself. Bringing my hand to my face, I was already prepared for the worst, and the first impression of the girl's face fully justified my fears.
"We have problems."
***
"What did you say their name is?"
Almost two weeks passed before I could return to Rishi. Add another two weeks of flight, and as you can imagine, by the time I arrived, all the brewing problems had already been resolved.
"They call themselves H'kig," Somnia said, checking her tablet and sitting opposite me, sliding the screen closer. "It turned out much better than I feared..."
"Monks. Harmless. Even useful." At my questioning look, the Shorty looked up from her mechanical gadgets and, exhaling tiredly, began to explain. "Cover. Loyal government. Open to contact. Symbiosis."
"Have we already signed a contract with them?" Nodding at her words, I shifted my gaze to Somnia.
"Three days after you jumped into hyperspace. I didn't want to bother you right when you arrived... You understand, enough time has passed..."
Shrugging, the girl smiled sheepishly, as if apologizing, though there was no point. She simply hadn't been able to contact me.
"And a couple of hours won't change the weather. That's clear," I said, frowning as I read the basics of these H'kig followers' teachings, and the longer I read, the more I realized we had indeed gotten lucky. "Their precepts sound like fairy tales... Except for the part about studying repulsor technology. That's a bit strange..."
"Ho-ho-ho, you can say that again."
Looking uncomprehendingly at the two women, I raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
"They don't recognize wheels. Treads. Walkers." Tapping a finger for each word, the Shorty finally pointed a finger out the window. "Replaced everything for us. Everything. With repulsors."
"Holy..."
"Exactly, and that's just the beginning," Somnia said, snatching the tablet from my hands and leaning against my shoulder before opening the personal file of the current leader of the H'kig organization. "This guy—Hasan Uluau—you could say he's eager for us to keep doing business with them. Unlike the other H'kig followers, he's not as crazy and is much more pragmatic..."
"He wants us to protect them?"
"Spot on," the girl smiled delightedly, moving closer, almost touching my cheek with her nose. "And he's ready to pay us huge bucks for it, can you believe it?"
"Sounds too fantastic."
"But it's true!"
"There must be downsides," it was hard to believe that after being screwed over by the Mandalorians, luck had just dropped on my head like this.
"Not without them," Somnia said, looking away and finally sitting further back. "Besides the basic protection stuff: we can't insult or mock their religion, we must always use repulsor technology, and we also have to help everyone who practices H'kig..."
"Listen, woman, what did you sign us up for?"
"Let me finish! We just need to transport them to Rishi, and from there they're on their own."
"Still," I said, scratching the back of my head and grimacing as I read the contract signed by my deputy. "Fine... The deed is done. If these fools don't start pushing their religion on us and don't turn us into the military wing of their church, then I don't mind."
"That's great!"
Almost clapping her hands, Somnia kissed me on the cheek and fluttered away. The girl's gait was light and weightless, and she hardly looked like a hardened mercenary from Tatooine.
"Apparently, she didn't come out on the losing end?" I said, wiping the spot of the kiss with my fingers and discovering lipstick residue on my gloves with surprise...
"Gifted. Z-95 Headhunter. A flight."
"We've found ourselves some rich monks."
"There are many of them. Very many. Lucky they're peaceful."
Exhaling in surprise, I took one last look out the window, where speeders and small yachts were now flying everywhere. In literally half a year, Rishi had transformed for the better. From a tiny planet on the edge of the galaxy that had become a smuggler's den, it was now forming into the headquarters of the Helldivers, causing money, people, and resources to flow to the planet from all nearby sectors.
The dirty streets, full of cheap whores, colorful stalls, thieves, and other shit, had been replaced by droids, militia, and our boys who arrived from Ukio. The former, having passed basic training, were still yellow-beaked rookies, but nevertheless... Our numbers are growing.
Through the efforts of Somnia, we are now tightly bound to the government of Rishi. Effectively, it is we who rule it; even if H'kig makes most of the civil decisions, the most important matters remain with us.
All that's left is to chart a hyperspace route to Roon, and with the help of smugglers, the Baobab Merchant Fleet, and connections in the Judicial Forces, we will receive a massive influx of finances that won't run dry for the next decade, at least until the market is oversaturated with gemstones.
Moreover, many smugglers from the Mining Guild flew through Rishi and were happy to sell their goods right here. And I needed connections with that corporation—probably the oldest and one of the largest in the galaxy.
Founded at the dawn of the Galactic Republic, it mined ore on thousands of planets. It regulated the prices of its product and, one could say, held a monopoly on its services.
Our appearance on Rishi initially scared them off, but with the change of government and Somnia's retreat into the shadow of the H'kig followers, the miner-smugglers were flying to the planet once again.
The stone I bought at the market, which I hurriedly gave to Shorty, exceeded all expectations. The black ore with green inclusions turned out to be Exonium, a rare mineral used as an energy source. It was used to fuel ships or sonic weapons, and I intended to use it for its intended purpose...
"The rest is a small matter. Set up a dozen mines on the planet, find workers, set up security, register a firm... So many problems... Better to dump it all on Somnia; she seems to like all this."
In the adjacent building, at that exact moment, the girl I was thinking of hiccuped loudly and began to look around fearfully, as if danger were looming over her.
But back to our banthas.
A pair of our new Carrack-class light cruisers were already hanging in orbit, their hangars being urgently remodeled to fit Meteor-class infantry transports and, apparently, a squadron of Z-95 Headhunters inside.
Small surpluses were steadily brought to us from Ukio—less than one percent, but that was more than enough to feed my people and set some aside for a rainy day. Not to mention the influx of volunteers. Human-like, strong, resilient, agile, and most importantly—loyal to our cause: the Ukian.
These guys were ready and willing to sow the seeds of freedom to all who desired it... And even to those who didn't.
From Mande, the news was mostly positive, and soon our ranks will be replenished by pilots dedicated to the cause of Democracy.
There's no word from Kanta yet, but I was sure the Weequay would look after him...
"Though... maybe I should send someone? Or fly there myself?"
Imagining yet another dull desert landscape, I gave a fearful shrug. Tatooine awaited us in the coming years anyway, so I had absolutely no desire to visit another planet with a similar climate.
"I should do something useful..."
"A correct statement," Shorty's voice reminded me that in my thoughts, I had completely forgotten I wasn't sitting alone. "You handed out the work. Now get to it yourself."
Her shoulders shook a couple of times from laughter, after which the screwdriver pointed in my direction returned to its task.
"Any ideas where..."
"...Democracy might be required? A lot. Too much. It's easier to list where it isn't needed."
Continuing to tinker with some technical gadget, Shorty brought up information on her wrist screen with a few finger movements and flicked it over to me.
Reading the brief summaries of what they managed to fish out from smugglers flying through the planet, I was simply amazed. Motherfucker, in what way is the Galactic Republic a democratic state? Slavery, fly-by-night kings, pirate states, dictators, eternal wars, official markets for sentient beings... So much shit that it just becomes hard to process.
Setting the tablet aside, I ruffled my hair, running the received information through my head. So much needs to be done... and as luck would have it, there's no time.
"When will the ships be ready? And how many people do we have now?"
"A week and a half. A bit less than a hundred. Available. Could be more..."
"Don't bother," I interrupted the little Jawa, picking up the tablet again and weighing how to proceed. "Those planets I absolutely must visit... we can't do anything with them right now... For now..."
Looking at the data from Ryloth, Orvax, Christophsis, Melida/Daan, Radnor, and many other planets, I was slowly coming to a boil. My brain, warped by Super Earth, demanded that I immediately go there and burn everything with a red-hot iron, returning freedom and equality to Humans and races like them.
From a single glance at the dry lines of reports on the number of slaves, standard of living, and rights, the anthem of cursed Super Earth began to play in my head, calling to carry Democracy across the reaches of the galaxy.
"But I can't do anything alone... I have to endure. Wait. First Tatooine and that damn slug who thinks himself a ruler over free people... And then the turn of the others will come. Every single one of them. All of them!"
The tablet in my hands snapped, covered in a web of small cracks, but Shorty, casting a glance my way, said nothing; she only resignedly accepted the wreckage of the tech and set about fixing it right then and there.
"Sorry... something just came over me."
"It's fine. Expected it. Gave you an old one."
Snickering mischievously, she turned the piece of broken tech in her hands, then dismissively tossed it onto the table, admitting it couldn't be repaired.
"Where are you flying? Decided?"
"I'm thinking..."
At that moment, my bracer received an incoming message. Marked "top priority," the signal began to be accepted automatically, and there before me appeared the hologram of a fragile, familiar figure.
"Hello, Tali."
"Hi, Sam!" Waving her hand adorably, the girl, burning with enthusiasm, began to load me with terms, showering me with a heap of unfamiliar words, so fast and unexpectedly that in the first minute I was lost and immediately lost the thread of the conversation. "...Managed to find a stable channel! Now all that's left is to check..."
"Stop, stop, stop. Hold on a bit, kid." I chose not to react to the dissatisfied pout, and closing my eyes, I massaged my eyelids. "Let's start from the beginning. The main points, and slowly."
"Weren't you listening to me at all?"
"Not all of it..."
Her silent reproach was my answer. Folding her arms across her chest, she stared into my shameless eyes. Hiding my embarrassment behind a stupid smile, I scratched my head again, looking away.
"Sigh... I see how it is." With a theatrical sigh, she poked her finger at her wrist PDA, after which a message arrived for both me and Shorty. "I found the hyperspace route to Roon."
***
***
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