Ahead of me, and quickly gaining ground was a terrified wasteland-raider. He had just witnessed two of his allies get cut down within the blink of an eye while they sat around their evening campfire. So, he did what any rational person would do in that situation. He ran for his life towards the barren mountains and away from Cleo station.
I could have ended him any number of ways, but I was feeling adventurous. I reached out with my left hand and began channeling the force into it.
Zaros was a singular force user among millions. He breezed through the Sith Academy, and often skipped whole lessons because his affinity was so high. He was so strong, that he was taken in as an apprentice by a member of the Dark Council. He was so powerful, that his master eventually betrayed him out of sheer fear. Instead of dying, he was recruited to work directly under the Emperor as his enforcer and eventually took his revenge by slaying his old master in single combat.
Every power I used so far was something that Zaros employed regularly. Everything I tried from that repertoire came as easily as if I had done it a thousand times. This was probably because Zaros had done it over a thousand times. I could imbue my physical body with the force to make it stronger and faster. I could produce sounds waves so terrible and filled with the dark side that they caused physical damage and stunned my opponents. My affinity for telekinesis and lightsaber fighting were similarly powerful. The list goes on.
This wasn’t the case when I tried to use other force powers.
With my hand forward and my fingers stretched out I tried to manifest force lightning. But, I really had no clue what I was doing. I concentrated power on my outstretched hand and the force began to swirl around my hand. For the briefest of moments, I thought I saw a spark. Then it just dissipated into a series of small explosions.
Zaros had no clue how to create force lightning. Thus, I had no clue how to create force lightning.
My target probably thought he was getting away at that point. But soon his feet found no purchase on the ground and he stopped moving forward. Instead he gained speed in the opposite direction as the force flung him through the air towards my waiting lightsaber. It was a quick death as he was impaled upon it.
“Telro, mark Sector 12-23 as cleared for now. I just engaged and eliminated the last group of raiders from the report,” I said into my helmet-communicator.
“Roger, Roger,” the droid replied.
“Did the probes pick up anything else worth checking out?” I asked.
“Yes, but I already dispatched other hunting parties, Sir.”
“That’s no fun!”
“It is best for you to return, sir. There is a meeting scheduled to discuss the power generation facilities,” the droid reported.
“I’m aware,” I replied with a sigh before cutting the call. It had been a busy day before I took the speeder up here to work off the steam. It was probably telling just how much I had really become Zaros when killing raiders was less stressful than paperwork.
This whole operation was getting to be an annoying amount of work. Sure, I needed a powerbase. It was that or spending the next few years on the run while trying to figure everything out.
Sure, I didn’t trust anyone to rule except me. But even in the few days, I’ve had control of the city, it was really getting to the point that I needed people to delegate tasks to.
Our energy issue was one such problem that should be prime for delegation. As of now, we were transferring some of the backup reactors from our ships down to the surface. We had enough of these to power the city, foundries, fabricators, and our newly acquired mines. But we only had enough fuel to keep the facilities running for about half a year at full capacity. We could push it to a full year if we emptied the ship reserves, but I was hoping to have this figured out before then.
The issue was that I knew absolutely nothing about energy. I didn’t know where the fuel came from. I didn’t know how it was made. I didn’t even know how the reactors made power if I’m being honest. Was it fusion? Did it just burn fuel? Nobody here knows and I haven’t had a chance to really talk with any real engineers about it yet.
But who could I give this job to? Droid technicians could build and repair things, but they didn’t have any initiative. Without overseers, they weren’t going to be able to work on complex projects. Our faction needed specialists, or I’d soon lose the forces that I just amassed. Without enough power, we’d have to start rationing energy and deactivating droids.
With these thoughts in mind, I stalked back to the raider campsite. It wasn’t much. Just a small covered fire and a few tents with various packs. Most disturbingly, there was a vaguely green humanoid leg, roasting atop the heat.
I dialed up Barriss.
“Agh!” came a pained moan from someone in the background of the call.
“I really can’t talk right now,” a tired Barriss said through the communicator. The former Jedi had taken it upon herself to oversee the city’s burgeoning clinic. As Cleo was at best a preindustrial city before we came along, there were plenty of diseases, injuries, and conditions that had long gone untreated. Barriss was a famed healer, trained in both force-assisted procedures and more general medicinal practices. So, she was perfect for the job.
“I’m just wondering if any Rodians came in with missing legs,” I replied.
“I’d have to-“ her response was interrupted by the sound of a bone-cracking and another pained wail.
“I would have to check the logs,” she replied.
“Maybe see if anyone was reported missing too,” I replied.
“I’ll do that when I’m not treating debilitating injuries,” she replied. Then after a moment added, “do I even want to know why?”
“Cannibals,” I replied.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, there’s like an entire spit-roast leg here,” I replied. Then I knocked it into the fire so it would burn up. Can't have skinwolves getting a taste for humanoid.
“I really didn’t need the details,” she replied squeamishly.
“Speaking of food, how have the nutrition bars gone over?” I asked as I made my way back to the Eclipse.
“They seemed suspicious at first, but now I would call it successful,” she replied.
“Did you do the bite thing?”
“The bite thing?” she said, then seemed to understand what I meant. “Yeah, I had to stop though, I was full to bursting after so many bar samples.”
“As long as they know they’re edible,” I replied.
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“It is a good outreach program,” she replied. “But I am worried about our supplies.”
“Yeah, I know,” I replied. Most of the CIS ships we took did have small stockpiles of nutrient packs. But they were only meant as supplies for the small and often nonexistent officer core. We could only hand out the nutrient-rich food for a short amount of time without refilling somewhere.
“Well, stop by the energy meeting if you finish breaking bones,” I replied.
“I’m resetting bones. I’d have more time if we used the Bacta.”
“If you think our food supply is getting low, do I have news for you,” I replied and sped off towards the city.
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One of the first new additions outside Cleo station were the newly minted brickfields. Day and night, B1s toiled in the dirt to churn out building materials. The natives squatted in any building in the city that they could get their hands on before we came along. They invaded the factories and foundries, the office buildings, and the former power station. They further built-up shacks, huts, and stands along the inner-city streets.
We needed those key buildings, and I wanted the streets as wide as possible for our large vehicles, so that meant uprooting hundreds, if not thousands of people. I wasn’t too keen on having the place crowded with the homeless, thus the new brickworks. It’s not like we didn’t have the manpower to get a redevelopment project done.
The second thing that stood out was the massive Tri-Droids patrolling the suburbs and outskirts. They were large, offered a high vantage point, and imposing. In part, these fifty-foot-tall droids were why I wanted the streets enlarged. They were a constant reminder of the power we wielded, but as of right now, they couldn’t make it downtown without crushing somebody’s makeshift house and probably the occupants too.
One of the first cleared zones was the new power generation facilities. It was the same building as the old power generation facilities, but everything rusted together years ago by this point. Unlike the fabricators, almost nothing in the old generators was salvageable.
Once the place was stripped, a defensible perimeter was created around it and further guarded by a contingent of B2s and B1s.
They waved me through at the roadblock, and Telro was waiting for me just outside the main doors.
It was certainly cool to see a team of B1s and DUM repair droids rushing about the place. The interior of the building was like controlled chaos, at least I hoped it was controlled. Teams of the droids bolted and welded various parts together to retrofit the new generators in place.
Listening to Telro give me report after report about our fuel prospects was far less interesting. It all really boiled down to a few things.
First, we needed solid fuel converters. We had the perfect spot for them, as our solar system sported more than one gas giant. The problem was that an installation large enough to keep our forces fueled would be positively massive. It would have to be at least as large as a space station, which meant we couldn’t just steal one. Apparently it took about five tons of hydrogen to charge a single fuel cell. Capital ships burned up hundreds of fuel cells on their own. The same went for city generators.
Second, we needed tibanna gas. That miracle fuel was used in everything. Blasters, repulsors, and hyperdrives all needed tibanna gas for one thing or another. It wasn’t the rarest substance in the galaxy, but it wasn’t something you could just get anywhere. In the known galaxy there were not that many places that produced the stuff. The Empire sported millions of star systems yet there were less than a hundred gas producers.
Finally, we would eventually need hyperfuel. That resource was some of the rarest stuff in the galaxy. The best form of it, coaxium, could only be found in a single system as far as I knew. The good news was that I didn’t plan on having most of my ships leave the system for a long time. But this was only a temporary fix, especially because we would need a steady supply stream of freighters making their way to the system eventually.
The long fix for all our problems was to send out scouting parties into the Unknown Regions. We could probably find a system with tibanna eventually that way. We might even find one of the lower grade hyperfuels like clouzon.
Technically, Parnassos was in the unknown regions, but it really wasn’t. The system was actually just on the western edge of known space. There were stable hyperspace lanes into Parnassos from the east. There weren’t stable lanes exiting the system to the west, nor anywhere else in the Unknown Regions.
That’s why they were unknown. Without predictable lanes, ships would often find themselves pulled out of hyperspace as they passed too close to gravity wells. At best this would make trips exponentially longer than in known space. Worse, you were liable to get ripped out of hyperspace into something dangerous like an asteroid field.
For now, this all added up to one thing. We would be heading back out into the galaxy. I was loathed to leave the various projects in the city alone though, which was how I found myself calling a meeting the next day.
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“I’ll be gone for a time and I’m taking Barriss with me, so now’s your last chance to offer up any concerns,” I said to the room of assembled people in my office. The four orginal elders along with their new fifth replacement stood together in the center of the room. Telro was there along with two other tactical droids and a few menacing magnaguards. The most surprising addition in the room was Lona, who had finally accepted a position managing the city’s agricultural infrastructure.
She was also the first to speak. “Will you be taking my husband?” she asked.
“Yes. Next?” I replied.
Her shoulders slumped and her face drew taught.
“Then, I have a list of possible ideas,” she replied and held out a datapad.
I took it and looked it over. It was mostly specific plants and crops we should introduce to the planet. Though one thing did catch my eye.
“You want me to get nerfs?” I asked with mild amusement.
“They’re the type of hardy herd animals that can survive this world. Them or banthas,” she answered.
“Fair enough. Does anyone else have anything?” I asked the group.
“My lord,” the elderly man, I think his name was Korse, started to say. I beamed at his word choice. I could certainly get used to that.
“Some of my people were upset about your…the, um, relocation project?” he explained.
“Have they not gotten new homes?” I asked; suddenly far less happy.
“They have. It’s just…” Korse faltered.
“Our people are just finding this all so fast,” said the Rodian.
“Are these grumbles or overt actions?” I replied.
“No!” Korse jumped in. “We jus-“
“Then isn’t this still your problem?” I asked the group. The whole point in keeping these nerf herders was so that they could smooth over the populace.
“They’ll be fine once they’ve settled into the new housing and realized how nice internal plumbing is,” I explained.
“Y-yes my lord,” the elderly man choked out.
“Good,” I said while flashing my teeth.
“Now for the real reason, I called you all here: A warning. I suspect some of you, some in this city, may find my absence as an opportunity,” I explained while rising out of my seat.
“It is not. Telro will have absolute authority to protect my interests. I doubt any of you want a Tri-Droid looking in through your window,” I said before a pause to let the implications sink in.
“More importantly, should I find any annoyances or self-inflicted setbacks, I will not hesitate to root out the fools. Anyone stupid enough to try something is a danger to everyone. I will strive to do the merciful thing and end them swiftly,” I explained.
“Is that clear?” I asked.
The room stayed silent.
“Is. That. Clear?” I repeated.
After that, I got smatterings of “Yes, milords” from the elders while Lona just nodded her head.
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“It needs a better name than G1,” Barriss said as we stepped off the transport onto the Geonosian Cruiser. It, designed and built by the Geonosian bugs, was meant to be a large transport and support ship. At close to 800 meters long, the ship kind of resembled a thin Venator with a large ventral fin on the bow. They were lightly armed but had a significant amount of carrying space and large hangars. Very few of these ships saw combat, especially because the Separatists couldn’t keep control of the bugs’ shipyards for very long.
In all, it was the best ship we had for playing pretend merchants. The design didn’t scream separatist remnants and it was easily refitted for carrying cargo instead of troops.
“Like what?” I asked. In the hangar, we were greeted by the crew made up mostly of BX and B1 droids as we made our way to the bridge.
“Maybe the Resplendent?”
“I’m not feeling it. That sounds like a luxury liner,” I replied.
“What about the Recovery?”
“Too nice. It sounds like a medical frigate.”
“The Abundant?”
“I’m not sure.”
“It’s the perfect name. It will be the first in a fleet of ships that bring abundance to Parnassos,” she explained.
“Yeah, I get it. Are you just going to keep throwing out names?” I asked.
“I’ve got time. I mean how long does it take to go…where are we going first?” she said once we entered the ship’s bridge.
“Mimban. We have to track down a few things,” I said and began inputting the coordinates into the hyperdrive.
“Mimban…I guess we could find some nerfs there, but there are much closer planets with larger herds,” she replied.
“We aren’t going there for nerfs,” I said with a chuckle. “In order, we are going to wake up a Jedi from stasis, exorcise an ancient Sith spirit, and recover the Kaiburr crystal,” I explained.
“That…er…sounds like a lot. Is this Jedi going to turn out to be a lizard too?”
“No, Celeste is very much a human,” I replied. The coordinates were set, and the ship began to pick up speed.
“And the spirit?”
“Pick your poison. Saving the galaxy, personal vendetta, justice? It doesn’t matter. He deserves eternal chaos just because I never want to see a rakghoul again,” I said with a shrug.
Before she could answer, the ship began to shake. The stars stretched out before us, and the telltale blue storm of hyperspace replaced real-space.