“Welcome to Concordia,” Dan gave a mock bow as Jango and Merlyn walked into the twilight. “Last home of the Deathwatch.” He tossed Pre Vizsla’s head at Jango’s feet. “You missed the main event.”
The Mandalorian gazed through his helmet at Vizsla’s dulled eyes. Dan knew that the Deathwatch commander had been involved in the death of Jango’s adoptive family. Vengeance was the man’s only motivator beyond money.
“You’ve taken control of the Deathwatch?” Fett tore his eyes from his fallen enemy. “What do you want from me?”
“The Deathwatch is a start, but they represent less than a tenth of the Mandalorian population,” Dan motioned to the planet Mandalore, framed against the darkened sky. “You still hold the title of Mandalore, I want you to call for an end to this conflict.”
“Right,” Jango snorted. “And why would I do that? I have no interest in playing king to these people.”
“Jaster Mereel would be disappointed,” Dan shook his head. “The supercommando codex was his dream, but you tossed it aside.”
“Shut up,” Jango tensed, a flash of movement brought his blasters to his hands, levelled at Dan’s helmeted face. “You know nothing about him, or me.”
“Really?” Dan ignored the blaster pistols and waved both Merlyn and Ultron away. “I know that the man who raised you wouldn’t even recognize you anymore, your hatred of the Jedi has consumed you.” He motioned to the base behind them. “The Deathwatch are soon to be reformed, you could finish Jaster’s work with little effort, but you’d rather sulk in a rotten space station and stew.”
“Careful…” Fett’s gloves creaked on his pistol grips, teeth ground together. “I came because your servant paid the largest consultation fee I’ve ever seen, but you’re not a client yet.”
“Live as Madalore for five years,” Dan turned his back on the Mandalorian and faced the last of the twilight sun. “You’ll have unlimited funds and resources, both for yourself and your people. When the contract ends, you can go about your business, with enough money that you’ll be free for life.”
“Define unlimited,” Jango’s guns wavered. “That’s a bold statement, what If I want to outfit my people with a grand fleet?”
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
“Then it will be done,” Dan shrugged. “Resources aren't an issue, or funding. What I lack is people.” He turned back to face Fett’s lowered weapons. “Living bodies that can be the public face of my organisation, until my own people can fill the role.”
Jango returned his blasters to his belt and looked to the sky. He stood for a moment, silent in the night.
“Do you know what you’re proposing?” The Mandolorian sighed. “If you rebuild the Mandalrian empire, you’re going to make more enemies than friends.”
“The enemies I’m worried about don’t have any side but their own,” Dan laughed as he extended his hand toward Fett. “The Republic doesn’t scare me, it’s currently ill prepared to enforce much of anything.”
“Then I accept the contract,” The two Mandalore’s shook, grips tightened to test each other. “I’ll need equipment for a system wide transmission.”
----------------------------------------
“I prefer your Wife’s vessel,” Merlyn sniffed the air on the scout’s bridge. “It smells of life, not the heartless reek of a machine.”
“May is busy on Garnib,” Dan rolled his eyes. “Gladius won't fly without her.”
Jango had a ton of work ahead, before a united Mandalore could even begin to form. Dan wasn’t a man of politics, nor did he have the knowledge to be of help. Instead he would continue his quest and collect a few more subjects to fill out the final score.
“Are you ready to reproduce yet?” Dan questioned Venom. An ocean of symbiotes would tip the scales well in his favour.
“We can produce three children… clones are easier,” Venom rasped. “We will need more time to create a multitude of individuals like you desire.”
“Three is enough for the near future,” Dan tapped at the controls until a cluster of worlds in the unknown region filled the display. “I’ll need a bunch of clones ready to go in under an hour, we'll need it if we want to add a new civilization to our roster.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Merlyn rose to his feet. “Your wife is waiting for her lesson, something you’ve conveniently decided to miss.”
“I’ll keep up my practice…” Dan talked to air as the Wizard vanished in a flash. He rolled his eyes and turned to Ultron. “I’ll need you to take some samples of the atmosphere on these worlds, before we land.”
The species he wanted to collect wasn’t overly aggressive, especially right now, but they emitted an insidious pheromone. Members of other races who breathed in these compounds soon found themselves connected to the insects' hive mind.
The strong willed could shape the collective in their image, while most beings simply became a more complicated drone. Dan was confident in both his will, and his kryptonian immune system, but safe was better than sorry.
“Understood,” Ultron paused, hand on the controls that engaged the drive. “A visitor has arrived on Zonama Sekot, they claim to be a Jedi Master.” He waved a hand to project an image of a beaked alien in a coarse robe. “They are attempting to connect to Sekot.”
“Vergere…” Dan frowned, eyes squinted. “She’s not really a Jedi.” The woman was a Sith in disguise, though her loyalties were vague. “Let’s make a pit stop, I want Venom to leave a child on the planet anyway.”
Ultron nodded and engaged the drive. Space vanished, then reappeared. The dusty orange, green surface of Zonama Sekot on display through the viewport.
“If she’s not a Jedi, should I detain her?” Ultron’s eyes glowed. “There are plenty of cells left next to our captive Sith.”
“Not yet,” Dan shook his head. “I want to test myself against a force user. Also, she might not be hostile, her ideals are more complex than the likes of Palpatine.”
“Fine, but I’ll have my drones ready,” Ultron rolled his eyes. “Your predictions often contain half truths…”