Chapter Text
The sleek, black starship sliced through the void of space, its engines humming a steady rhythm as you navigated toward Thule. The planet was an inhospitable world, its surface scarred by ancient battles and shrouded in mystery. A fitting location for the task at hand. As you stared out at the star-streaked abyss, your thoughts were consumed by the weight of Dooku’s threat and the complex web of deception you had begun to weave.
A few hours into the journey, you decided to reach out to Bo-Katan Kryze. She had been unreachable for far too long, a fact that gnawed at the edges of your mind, stirring a sense of unease. You keyed in her personal frequency, the console beeping softly as it attempted to establish a connection. The silence stretched, each passing second amplifying your concern, until finally, the connection failed—again.
A frown creased your brow. Bo’s continued absence was not only suspicious but increasingly troublesome. She was a crucial ally, her presence and support pivotal in maintaining the balance of power within the Jin Clan. Yet, as much as you wished to probe deeper into her disappearance, the urgency of the situation demanded action. You could not afford to delay.
With a measured breath, you redirected your focus and opened a secure channel to Thral Jin, the de facto leader of the Jin Clan in Bo-Katan's absence. His holographic image flickered to life before you, a tall figure draped in the traditional armor of his clan, his face shadowed by the helmet he always wore, even in formal communication.
"Lord (S/N)," Thral's voice resonated through the co*ckpit, deep and reverent. "It is an honor to speak with you."
"Thral," you acknowledged, your tone commanding but laced with a subtle urgency. "I have a task that requires immediate attention. There are leaks, individuals through whom Count Dooku is relaying information to the Republic. These leaks must be found and eliminated, discreetly and efficiently."
Thral Jin's helmet tilted slightly, indicating his understanding. "Understood, my lord. I will deploy our best operatives immediately. They will not live to see another sunrise."
"Good," you replied, your eyes narrowing as you emphasized your next point. "Make no mistake, Thral—this operation must be conducted with the utmost discretion. No traces, no suspicions. Dooku’s web of spies must be severed completely."
"As you command," Thral affirmed, his holographic image flickering as he bowed his head slightly. "I will oversee the operation personally."
With a curt nod, you terminated the communication. Thral Jin was capable and loyal, a man who understood the delicate balance of power and the necessity of swift action. He would carry out your orders without question, ensuring that Dooku’s network of informants was eradicated before any further damage could be done.
Shortly after the call ended, your ship exited hyperspace, the swirling tunnel of light giving way to the dark, ominous planet of Thule. The world below was a desolate wasteland, its surface marked by the ruins of ancient civilizations and the scars of long-forgotten wars. It was a place where secrets were buried deep, hidden beneath layers of history and decay.
As your ship descended through the atmosphere, the barren landscape came into view—a sprawling expanse of jagged rocks and deep, shadowed valleys. In the distance, the outline of the droid factory loomed, a monolithic structure nestled in the heart of a long-abandoned city.
The landing gear extended with a soft thud as your ship touched down on the factory’s landing pad. The ramp lowered, and you stepped out, greeted by the cold, dry air of Thule. As you descended, a parade of droids emerged from the factory, forming an elegant avenue that led directly to the main entrance. Their movements were synchronized, precise, a testament to the programming that governed their every action.
At the head of the procession stood a droid foreman, its sleek metallic body reflecting the pale light of the distant sun. The droid stepped forward, bowing low as you approached.
"Welcome, Lord (S/N)," the droid intoned, its voice smooth and mechanical. "The factory is at your service. We have received your instructions and are prepared to begin fabrication immediately."
You nodded, surveying the line of droids with a critical eye. "Good. I want the false evidence to be perfect—indistinguishable from the real thing. Every detail must be flawless."
"The droids have been programmed with the most advanced slicing algorithms," the foreman assured you. "We will create communications, financial records, and holorecordings that will convincingly portray Count Dooku as a double agent for the Republic."
"Ensure that no traces lead back to Nathema or my allies," you added, your tone sharp. "The moment Dooku suspects our involvement, the entire operation will be compromised."
"It will be done, my lord," the foreman replied, bowing again before turning to oversee the work in the factory.
You followed the droid foreman inside, your footsteps echoing through the cavernous halls of the facility. The walls were lined with rows of assembly lines, each one buzzing with activity. Droids of various models moved with clockwork precision, fabricating the intricate pieces of evidence that would incriminate Count Dooku. The air was thick with the hum of machinery and the faint scent of heated metal.
As you walked past the different stations, your eyes narrowed in scrutiny. The droids were crafting everything from forged financial transactions to falsified holorecordings. Each piece of evidence was meticulously designed to frame Dooku as a double agent, weaving a narrative that would be impossible to dismiss. Yet, despite the technical perfection of the work, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something crucial was missing—something that would lend an extra layer of authenticity to the deception.
You stopped beside one of the assembly lines, watching as a droid carefully replicated a set of confidential Republic documents. The craftsmanship was flawless; the fonts, seals, and signatures were indistinguishable from the originals. But as you studied the documents, the nagging sense of incompleteness grew stronger. The fabricated evidence was too perfect, too clean. Real operations—especially those as convoluted as Dooku's supposed betrayal—often contained small, seemingly insignificant details that grounded them in reality.
A sudden thought struck you, and a slow, cold smile curled on your lips. You knew what was missing.
“Foreman,” you called, your voice cutting through the ambient noise of the factory.
The droid foreman approached swiftly. “Yes, Lord (S/N)?”
“The evidence is impeccable, but it lacks a crucial element—an inconsistency that would appear as an honest mistake or an oversight. Add subtle discrepancies in the dates and times of the holorecordings. A slight variance in the time stamps, no more than a few seconds, perhaps a minute. The kind of detail that would be overlooked by most, but noticed by the right eyes. This will make it seem as though the evidence was hastily gathered or compiled under duress, further implicating Dooku as a man desperate to hide his true allegiance.”
The droid hesitated for only a fraction of a second—an eternity for a machine. Then it nodded. “Understood, my lord. We will introduce these discrepancies immediately.”
“Good. Ensure that these variations are consistent across all pieces of evidence, but random enough to evade detection. This minor imperfection will serve as a masterstroke in the grand design, convincing even the most skeptical observers of Nathema’s innocence in this affair.”
“As you command,” the foreman responded, before turning to relay your instructions to the rest of the droids.
You resumed your inspection, a sense of satisfaction settling in your chest. The added detail would serve multiple purposes: not only would it make the evidence more believable, but it would also act as a safeguard. Should any party involved in Dooku’s blackmail attempt scrutinize the evidence too closely, they would find exactly what they were looking for—a seemingly insignificant flaw that would lend credence to the documents’ authenticity.
The factory’s production of droids continued in the background, their assembly lines churning out battle-ready units in parallel with the fabrication of the evidence. Your eyes flicked over the rows of B1 battle droids being assembled with minor modifications that would make them uniquely yours—slight adjustments in their programming and hardware that would turn them into more efficient killing machines, loyal only to you.
You paused by one of the assembly lines, watching as a droid’s photoreceptors flickered to life. It was a cold, emotionless machine, yet it represented a silent testament to your growing power. Thule’s hidden factory was a weapon in itself, one that would soon play a crucial role in the larger game you were orchestrating.
You turned away from the humming assembly lines, leaving the droids to their task, and made your way to the ship's holocommunicator. The time had come to set the next stage of your plan into motion.
With a flick of your hand, you established a secure connection to Vice-Commander sh*tu Itus. The blue-tinted hologram flickered to life, displaying the tall, composed figure of the Chiss officer. By her side stood Vice-Admiral Vess, her bright red hair striking against the cold backdrop of the command center they occupied. The two officers appeared in the midst of coordinating a new raid, their expressions focused but quickly shifting to one of attention as they recognized your presence.
"Lord (S/N)," Vice-Commander Itus greeted with a respectful bow. "How may we serve you?"
"Vice-Commander, Vice-Admiral," you acknowledged them both with a nod, your voice smooth and commanding. "Your current operations against the Zygerrian slave empire are to be paused. I have a new mission for you, one that requires utmost discretion and precision."
Both women straightened, their attention fully on you.
"Vice-Commander Itus, tomorrow you will receive information that must be distributed quietly and efficiently across multiple channels. This information will need to be leaked to sources that are trusted yet disconnected enough to avoid suspicion. I trust you understand the gravity of this task."
Itus's eyes narrowed slightly as she processed your instructions. A subtle nod followed. "I understand, my lord. I will compile a list of potential distributors and instruct them to prepare for the task. They will receive the information without knowing its true origin, ensuring that the trail remains cold."
"Excellent," you replied, a sense of satisfaction evident in your tone. "Ensure that this operation leaves no trace of our involvement. The information must seem to come from an external, unbiased source. Failure is not an option."
"Understood, my lord," Itus responded, her voice resolute. "I will see to it personally."
You shifted your gaze to Vice-Admiral Vess, who had been silently observing the exchange. "Vice-Admiral, you will remain with the Vice-Commander for now. Your experience will be valuable in coordinating the logistical aspects of this operation. I expect nothing less than perfection."
Vess’s eyes brightened with determination, her admiration for you barely concealed. "I will not disappoint you, my lord."
With a final nod, you terminated the call, leaving the two officers to their preparations. They were among your most trusted allies, and you had no doubt they would execute your orders flawlessly.
Now, there was one more piece of the puzzle to set in place.
You activated another secure channel, this time connecting to Queen Scintel of Zygerria. Her image materialized before you, the Zygerrian ruler lounging casually in her throne, her feline features sharpened by a predatory smile as she saw you.
"Lord (S/N)," she purred, her tone laced with a mix of flirtation and intrigue. "What brings you to my doorstep today?"
"Queen Scintel," you greeted her coolly, dismissing her attempts at seduction with a slight narrowing of your eyes. "I require information. Specifically, a list of CIS senators who are in secret possession of slaves."
Scintel’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with interest. "Ah, seeking to exploit the vices of your enemies, are we? I can provide you with such a list. But what’s in it for me?"
You leaned slightly forward, your gaze piercing. "Cooperation now ensures your continued existence later. I am not one to make idle threats, Queen Scintel. You know this."
Her playful demeanor faltered for a brief moment before she nodded, the seriousness of the situation sinking in. "Very well, Lord (S/N). I will provide you with the names you seek."
She paused for a moment, as if mentally sorting through her vast network of information, before speaking again. "Here are five names within the CIS Senate who currently possess slaves: Senator Gorlo Maan, Senator Vartha Glynn, Senator Kreel Voss, Senator Alrik Minos, and Senator Velora Fann. Of these, Senator Maan is the most influential. He leads a faction that respects Dooku’s strength but quietly resents his dominance within the Senate."
You stored the names in your memory, the beginning of a new plan forming in your mind. "Your cooperation is noted, Scintel. Continue to play your part, and you will find that your position is secure."
"Always a pleasure, Lord (S/N)," she replied with a coy smile, before the transmission ended.
You leaned back in your chair, the dark corners of your mind now illuminated by the possibilities these names offered. The lesser senators would fall in line easily, manipulated by their fear of exposure. But Senator Gorlo Maan—he was the key. If handled correctly, he could become the fulcrum that would tip the balance of power within the CIS Senate.
You sat in the co*ckpit of your ship, the dark void of space reflecting the calculations that spun within your mind. The names Queen Scintel had provided were the linchpins of your next move, and the holographic database you accessed from Nathema’s network now flickered to life before you. The wealth of information gathered by your spies was vast, but you knew precisely what you were looking for: the hidden vulnerabilities of these senators, the pressure points you could exploit.
With a flick of your wrist, the holodisplay expanded, showcasing detailed profiles of the CIS Senate members. Senator Vartha Glynn appeared first—a Neimoidian known for his ruthless business practices and covert dealings. You quickly skimmed through the data, pausing on an encrypted file. A few taps and the decryption began, revealing a series of secret financial transactions. Glynn had been funneling credits into a private account on Nar Shaddaa, clearly attempting to hide the wealth he was siphoning off from the CIS war effort. The account was tied to multiple shadowy entities, each with ties to the Hutt Cartel.
"Interesting," you muttered, a cold smile forming as you noted the information. You could use this to imply that Glynn was funding the Republic’s war effort indirectly, a betrayal that would cause a stir in the Senate.
Next, Senator Kreel Voss—a Gran with a reputation for being outspoken against Dooku’s more extreme measures, yet one who was curiously silent on the subject of slavery. The file on him revealed a correspondence with a Zygerrian slave trader, where Voss had purchased a particularly rare Twi’lek slave for his personal collection. The evidence was damning, and you knew that exposing this would ruin his carefully cultivated image of moral superiority.
Then there was Senator Alrik Minos, a Human from the Core Worlds, who had risen to power through sheer ambition. His weakness lay not in his own actions, but in his family. Minos had a younger brother who was deeply indebted to a Coruscant crime syndicate—a secret Minos had worked hard to conceal. You could easily let this debt resurface, making it appear as though the senator was under the syndicate’s thumb, further isolating him from his peers.
Finally, your attention turned to Senator Velora Fann. The Pau´an senator was a lesser-known figure but had connections to various illicit networks across the Outer Rim. She had quietly supported Dooku’s rise, though her loyalty was driven by fear rather than conviction. The data indicated that she had been smuggling rare artifacts from occupied worlds—a dangerous game that could be spun into accusations of looting and betrayal of CIS values.
However, when the profile of Senator Gorlo Maan appeared, you paused. Maan was a Muun, part of the Banking Clan, and while he held significant sway within the CIS Senate, he had always maintained a reputation of neutrality. The data was extensive but lacked any scandalous details—no hidden accounts, no illicit dealings. He was a man who played his cards close to his chest, a skilled manipulator in his own right. Yet, the more you delved, the more you sensed an opportunity. Unlike the others, Maan’s power came from his connections, his ability to influence through diplomacy rather than force. This made him a prime target for a different approach—manipulation rather than intimidation.
Satisfied with what you had uncovered, you closed the holodisplay and activated a secure communication channel. Kan Sud’s image flickered into view, his expression attentive as always.
"Lord (S/N)," he greeted, bowing his head. "How may I assist you?"
"Kan Sud, I have specific instructions for you," you began, your tone cold and precise. "I require four messengers to be dispatched immediately. Each will approach a different senator within the CIS: Vartha Glynn, Kreel Voss, Alrik Minos, and Velora Fann. Their task is to deliver a message, one that subtly highlights the extent of our reach. They are to make it clear that we possess sensitive information on each senator, information that could ruin them if revealed."
Kan Sud nodded, his expression unchanging. "Understood, my lord. And the message itself?"
"A warning," you replied, your eyes narrowing. "They are to be reminded that Dooku’s protection is not infallible, and that their secrets are not as well-guarded as they believe. However, offer them a chance to rectify this situation by contacting Nathema tomorrow. The manner of the approach is to be subtle yet unmistakably threatening—except for Senator Gorlo Maan."
Kan Sud raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue.
"Maan is to be approached with caution. The messenger must convey our awareness of his unique position within the CIS and suggest that there are certain advantages to aligning more closely with Nathema. This is not a threat, but an invitation. We aim to plant the seed of doubt in his mind about Dooku’s ability to protect his interests and suggest that we can offer him more."
Kan Sud’s eyes gleamed with understanding. "I will ensure the messengers carry out your orders to perfection, my lord. The senators will not know who to trust by the time we are done."
"Good," you said, your voice a low rumble of satisfaction. "This operation must be flawless. The slightest mistake could compromise everything. Make sure the messengers are carefully selected and that their loyalty is beyond question."
"It will be done, my lord," Kan Sud affirmed, his image bowing once more before the transmission ended.
As the holocommunicator went dark, you leaned back in your chair, letting the silence of the co*ckpit envelop you. The pieces were moving into place, each one manipulated with precision and care. Tomorrow, the senators would be forced to make a choice, and whichever path they chose, it would lead them deeper into your web.
And Count Dooku? He would soon discover that he was not the only one who knew how to play this game.
