CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Finalizer
It was not often that General Hux found himself being caught off-guard or taken by surprise by something or someone. But today was going to be one of those rare days.
Standing at his holoprojector, surrounded by life-sized images of his contemporaries on the Supreme Council, Hux stared incredulously at the massive projection of Kylo Ren’s masked face. Glancing around, he could see that he was not the only one who had been left in a state of surprise, although of course Generals Pryde and Parnadee were better trained in masking their emotions.
After a long, torturous bout of silence, it was General Pryde who dared to finally speak first. “Lord Ren. We were expecting the Supreme Leader.”
“I figured you would,” Kylo Ren coolly replied. “Unfortunately, the Supreme Leader is incapacitated at the moment. We encountered Resistance forces at Naboo and they made an attempt on the Supreme Leader’s life. Although he survived the attack, he has been left grievously injured. As such, he has named me his Executor and has placed me in temporary control of the First Order while he recovers. All of your reports and grievances shall go through me for the time being.”
The members of the Supreme Council looked amongst themselves with mixed expressions. While they were all familiar with Kylo Ren and his Knights, they had never exactly seen them as anything more than the Supreme Leader’s personal squad of executioners, tasked with performing dirty work that was either beneath those in the First Order’s ranks or outside their area of expertise. Certainly, in Hux’s opinion, Kylo Ren was no Darth Vader. No one feared the Knight of Ren the same way their predecessors had feared the Dark Lord of the Sith… at least not for the same reasons. True, some were wary of being around Ren but that was more due to his unpredictable and violent nature, not because of any command position he held. The fact that Snoke had apparently named Kylo Ren his temporary regent was a… questionable decision to say the least. Still, who were they to question the Supreme Leader’s wisdom?
Clearing his throat, General Pryde said, “Very well. For what purpose have you gathered us, then?”
“The encounter with the Resistance at Naboo has made it clear that they are not to be underestimated,” Kylo Ren explained. “The Supreme Leader wants you to focus your efforts towards eliminating them as a threat.”
“I thought our focus was supposed to be on seizing the Alliance’s territory,” said General Quinn.
Kylo Ren snapped his masked face at the outspoken general. “That was before Naboo,” he said icily. “This is now. Besides, the Alliance is putting up little to no struggle in response to the seizure of the Dominus and Ojoster sectors. They are already preoccupied with eating each other alive.”
“That could easily change once the new Chief of State, whoever they are, comes to power,” pointed out General Parnadee.
“That shouldn’t be a concern,” said Pryde. “The selected nominees are either too weak to put up a fight or have Imperial sympathies. For all we know, they could end up helping our cause rather than impede it.”
“Indeed,” Kylo Ren said, rather sharply Hux had to note. “I want you to send your spies across the galaxy. Root out any planet the Resistance could be operating on so that we may crush them. Once they are out of the picture, nothing will stand in the way of the First Order.”
Hux had to admit that he did not find much issue with this plan. After what had happened at Mon Cala, he was eager to prove the First Order’s might. Perhaps Snoke had been holding back and was now ready to unleash his wrath across the galaxy. He would not complain if that was the case.
“We do have leads on where the Resistance could be operating,” said General Engell. “Some of the systems we have suspected as potential locations are even within our sectors.”
“Good,” Kylo Ren replied. “Start there. Sweep every charted star system, regardless of whether it is inhabited or not. Leave no stone unturned. The time for restraint has ended. Soon, the galaxy will know the true might of the First Order. And nothing will stand in our way.”
Kijimi
“He’s where?!”
Dax jolted in his cot at the sound of Argus Ordo’s incredulous exclamation. After a long day of training and workout, he had finally been given an opportunity to rest his aching muscles. He had been about to fall asleep when he heard Argus’s voice and he looked over to see the old Mandalorian standing in front of an equally old holoprojector. The image of a Rybet fizzled in and out before Argus Ordo, its audio mired with static.
“The Errant Venture,” Dax heard the Rybet say. “I know, I was pretty surprised myself. It took me a while to recognize him, since he’s wearing a new set of armor. But I recognized his daughter and she’s always hanging around him, along with the rest of their posse. I don’t think it could be anyone else, unless she’s gotten herself a boyfriend who’s twice her age or something.”
Argus Ordo’s hands rolled into fists and Dax thought he was going to smash the holoprojector with them. “Where are they?” the old man growled.
“We’re in hyperspace at the moment. From what I’ve heard, we’re en route to the Talavos system, though we might be making a stop at Takodana along the way. I’m getting a lot of conflicting information; a lot of people on this ship don’t like me much and don’t really wanna talk to me. I don’t understand why, but—”
“Enough!” Argus snapped. “We’re already on our way.”
“Okay, but what about my—”
Argus cut the amphibian off by switching off the holoprojector. He then turned around and stormed over to Dax, grabbing his helmet from a nearby table and putting it on. “Get up, boy. It’s time.”
“You’re already done training me?” Dax asked.
“I’m not going to waste any more time with you to pass on an opportunity like this. You’ll have your chance to kill Kadar, and if you fail, then you will die and I will do the deed for you.”
Dax scowled as he got out of his cot and stretched. “I really hope this will all pay off.”
“Do you want to kill him or not?” Argus snapped.
“Of course I do.” Dax tried to ignore how those words sounded less sincere than he had intended them to. “But I don’t see why I needed to be dragged all the way to Kijimi to spend a day with a grouchy old man who can’t be arsed to—”
He saw Argus’s fist a mere half-second before it collided with his face. Knocked off-balance, he stumbled back towards his cot and had to grab onto the railing to keep himself from falling into it. As Dax wiped blood from his mouth, Argus turned around and began striding towards the door.
“You can follow, but I won’t wait for you,” was all the old Mandalorian said as he stepped out into the cold Kijimi dawn.
Dax glowered after him before spitting out a glob of blood from his mouth. He then quickly gathered his gear, put them on, and headed out the door, walking as fast as he could to catch up with the Mandalorian.
Ord Talavos
It was only thanks to the power of diplomatic immunity that Sal Orbego had the confidence to walk into the den of Drakmos the Despised and tell him, “You are really set on making my life miserable, aren’t you?”
The dragon-like crime boss picked his sharp teeth with his claw as he cast his gaze down at the small Pa’lowick. Two Tiss’shar guards standing on either side of his throne visibly tensed and raised their blasters but did not yet point them at Orbego.
“Whatever are you referring to?” Drakmos asked with faux innocence.
Orbego rolled his eyes as he produced a datapad. “Oh, gee, I don’t know. Maybe something along the lines of an assassination attempt on the Senator of Naboo?!”
“You cannot prove that I had anything to do with that,” Drakmos protested.
“Oh, you mean besides the fact that he was getting married to one of the Dowager’s children, whom you had just posted a bounty on for half a million credits? Along with literally all of the Dowager’s surviving children?”
Drakmos sneered, baring his fangs. “I should not be held responsible for amateur bounty hunters making mistakes.”
“Even if it’s the bounty hunter that you yourself personally hired for this very job?” Orbego nearly shrieked, his voice high enough to shatter windows. “And before you say anything, I had agents of my own operating on Naboo. They saw the local newsfeeds. They saw Remar Almor’s face plastered everywhere. And I know it was him you hired because guess what? It is literally my job to know pretty much everything you and the other Cabal members do.”
Drakmos’s yellow eyes narrowed into thin slits as he glared at the Pa’lowick. “Is it?” he asked quietly.
“Um, yeah? What, were you born yesterday? It’s always been my job. How else do you think Malvis keeps everyone in line? An organization of opportunistic crime lords is doomed to fail unless someone is keeping tabs on everyone.”
“Is that right?” Drakmos snorted. “Are those Malvis’s words or does he keep you around for business advice?”
Orbego huffed, stomping a thin leg against the floor. “It doesn’t matter! Point is, you acted out of line and now we’re all paying the consequences. A senator’s life has just been threatened, everyone’s talking about it, and all eyes are on us. Needless to say, Malvis isn’t happy. And when he’s not happy, nobody is happy.”
“You presume I even care about what Malvis or any of the others think,” Drakmos growled. “If he wants to remove me from the Cabal for my ‘transgressions,’ then so be it. But he knows that he cannot afford to lose my affiliation. To cast me out would be to create a rival that even he cannot contest with.”
Orbego tapped his fingers on his datapad, licking the pair of lips at the end of his long proboscis. “Right,” he muttered. “Well, fortunately for you, Malvis isn’t willing to go that far yet. He’s letting you off with a warning… for now. He strongly advises you to not do something like this again.”
“Is that all?” Drakmos gestured vaguely to nothing in particular. “What of the bounties? Does he want me to take those down?”
“I believe it would be in our best interests that you do so, yes.”
“His best interests, you mean. And perhaps yours. But not mine. What if I want to keep them up?”
Orbego narrowed his eyes. “Then we would have a repeat of Naboo. And we don’t want that.”
“You mean Malvis doesn’t.” Drakmos leaned forward in his throne, flashing his teeth. “’We.’ You keep using that word. ‘We’ want this. ‘We’ want that. Do you have no individuality, Pa’lowick? Or do you just regurgitate everything Malvis feeds you?”
Orbego thinned his lips as he glared at the draconian crime lord. “You will take down the bounties,” he managed to say as evenly as possible, “and business will resume as usual.”
Without waiting for a response from Drakmos, the Pa’lowick pivoted on his thin legs and began walking swiftly towards the door. Drakmos watched him leave and it was not until after Orbego had finally left that his Tiss’shar guards lowered their weapons.
“I was this close to gutting him,” a voice growled from the shadows. Drakmos glanced in time to see a cloaked Chistori emerge from the shadows of his throne room, walking over to the spot where Orbego had just been. “We could have just come up with a believable alibi and Malvis would just found some other patsy to do his dirty work.”
“A tempting idea,” Drakmos admitted. “But a risky one. Malvis would easily piece things together and have even more reason to remove me. Not that that would have been a bad thing; I would have welcomed the challenge.”
The Chistori glanced at him, flaring her nostrils. “Are you going to take down the bounties?”
Drakmos smirked. “I would… but that wouldn’t be fair to the other people I’ve already reached out to.”
As if in cue, a tiny red light in the ceiling started to blink in and out, accompanied by a beeping sound. Drakmos pressed a hidden switch in the armrest of his throne and the overhead holoprojector turned on, creating the life-sized image of an armored Twi’lek woman in front of him.
“Despised One,” the Twi’lek said curtly. “I present to you an offering.”
She stepped aside to reveal two humans—one male, one female—tied up and sitting on their knees as other armored figures held their weapons at their heads.
“Lord Jol Tritum and Lady Fala Tritum of House Mecetti. Heirs of the Dowager Valrisa.”
Drakmos tapped his claws together. “Impressive work, Viira,” he rumbled. “Was it difficult capturing such high-profile figures?”
Viira smirked. “It would have been… had it not been for the fact that they made a deal with the Veiled Sorority to steal from one of their rival houses.”
Drakmos nodded sagely. “Indeed, indeed. This is why you should never put your faith in pirates.” He gestured with a claw. “Kill them.”
With a nod from Viira, the surrounding pirates opened fire and the two Tapani nobles dropped dead onto the floor. A satisfied Viira then looked back to Drakmos.
“I trust that we have proven ourselves as worthy allies?”
“You have certainly demonstrated your effectiveness,” Drakmos replied. “Come to Ord Talavos and we can discuss matters further.”
The Twi’lek nodded once and the holographic display dissipated into nothingness. Folding his claws over his stomach, Drakmos looked back over to his Chistori assassin.
“We are already at the halfway point. I don’t think I could stop now even if I wanted to.”
The Chistori snorted, shaking her head. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Despised One.”
Drakmos grinned, putting his many sharpened teeth on display. “Which will make victory all the sweeter, my friend.”
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