T w e n t y S i d e d

You may call me Rix’larril’an. Not my real name, of course; but reasonably appropriate to blunt or ensnare the questions of the Imperial bureaucracy. Members of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Force are stripped of their family ties to emphasize the role of the CEDF in representing and protecting ALL Chiss, but no Chiss will go without a name. The family I was born to encouraged my enrollment with the Defense Force, as I have a tendency to ignore the finer points of Chiss hierarchical relationships and solve disagreements with violence. I refuse to be coy about this; lies may suit the diplomats but no true Chiss should have to serve a double-life at the dinner table. It is perhaps ironic then, that the Defense Force chose me as a suitable candidate to be trained in Espionage, Counter-intelligence, and Assassination.

Well, maybe not that last one.

Further, I was recommended to the Imperial Intelligence Services as an undercover agent. As the Empire and Republic look for any excuse to resume their war, Imperial Intelligence could hardly refuse an infiltration agent ready to go to the field. They don’t exactly do a great job of keeping them alive themselves. The Chiss interest in infiltrating all levels of Imperial functions, and even, I’ve heard, the Dark Council, is to keep the idiots alive. THEY don’t know what’s in the Unknown Regions; the Chiss do. And we can’t defeat it when it comes for us. To be honest, *I* don’t even know what *IT* is, but too many people I trust in positions to know something are afraid. If we can keep the “Sith” Empire alive, we can use them against this common enemy. That’s what I have been told, and for what it’s worth, I believe it.

The Empire is our choice over the Republic, simply because the Empire is more predictable and easier to control. Barring the Sith, that is. They have a tendency for chaos that is repellent to the Ascendancy, but most are happy within their own fiefdoms. They always want to be in charge; believe it’s “their right as Sith,” but can easily be placated with a sandbox and a barely-literate race of natives to subjugate and demand worship from.

I have taken a convoluted route of public transport to arrive at Nal Hutta, the homeworld of the Hutt species. Why they still claim it I may never understand. Their actual homeworld, Varl, was destroyed long ago. Likely by the Hutts themselves, although no records have ever been found to corroborate this speculation, OR their own claim that one of the twin suns Varl orbited was sucked into a black hole. The Hutts are now spread throughout the outer rim and mostly governed by the rules of the Hutt Cartel. The masters of Hutta themselves live primarily on the Huttan moon, Nar Shaddaa; a thriving metropolis and economic powerhouse in the black market and all underworld trading. But I am informed my job will be on Hutta, and will likely be Hutt-centric. Lovely. I hate Hutts.

I stare longingly at the shining lights of Nar Shaddaa visible from my window. Through the front viewscreen, the view of Hutta prompts no words other than “cesspool.” A marsh, within a bog, surrounded by a swamp. That’s not entirely true, though. I see runs of salts, the detritus of dried chemical spills marked by miles upon miles of toxic pollutants littering the ground. That these look like former rivers does not surprise me; allegedly the Hutts’ destruction of Varl was via rampant pollution and ruination of the atmosphere. There are oceans covered by noxious, roiling fumes, but I do see coastlines and some inland lakes of blue water. I assume the ability to live on the surface of Hutta requires massive water purification installations. I surmise we will be landing near one these areas. At least on this side of the planet, I doubt it comprises ten percent of the land area. There can be no more than a few million living beings on this planet…at least, comprised of life in any way we understand it.

I will be landing directly on Hutta, but the Imperials maintain an orbital station for official use. I would assume the Republic has similar access, as the Hutt Cartel is officially neutral and deals with both factions. I suspect that is why I’m here on Hutta, and why my transport has been public…this is an unofficial mission. Which makes sense…I am an undercover agent, not a diplomat. Not that a diplomat would ever be caught dead on the surface of Hutta, unless it was to cover up another crime.

The surface of Nal Hutta meets all expectations: thick, low-lying, fast-moving clouds blot out the sun. The air is thick, wet, and slightly oily; the signs of a highly-processed atmosphere. I bet they have to replace the coolant filters hourly. There is no middle-class on Hutta: you are here because you are paid well or because you can’t afford to leave. This is the economy that arises wherever a Hutt sets up shop. Everything is yellow, brown, and orange.

The transport lands in Jiguuna, the settlement maintained around the Shvash gas mining operation that I suspect is my goal. Decades ago this entire area was settled and populated, but as we landed I could see large swaths of swamp and clearly-abandoned buildings. Despite this devolution I have no doubt that the local Hutt-in-charge suffers no lack of opulence in his own home. True lords of the trash pit. Fittingly, my final written order sends me to a “private” room in the “Poison Pit,” the only remaining neighborhood pub in Jiguuna. “Private” is clearly a mistake…there are no private rooms in the “Poison Pit.”

I pay a bouncer leaning against a back wall to protect my discretion and deploy a scrambler, then spike a communicator to receive the on-location briefing from Imperial Intelligence. I have been assured this mission is a high-profile test to make sure I am as good as the Chiss have said, and I am not disappointed to discover my contact is indeed the one code-named Keeper; the administrator of all field operations in Intelligence. This could, of course, all be a lie or an elaborate setup, but while I would never trust an Imperial, my own information came from the Expansionary Defense Force. In this, Keeper and I stand as equals: he doesn’t know who I really am, and I don’t know who he really is. But as he *is* supposed to be my boss, now; I adopt the ubiquitous Imperial accent and be sure to throw in my “yes, sirs” and “no, sirs.”

My first task is to meet with a local Intelligence asset, Jheeg. Jheeg has supposedly determined the best way to approach the local Hutt-lord, Nem’ro; with the purpose of gaining continued access to his organization. The end goal is to push Nem’ro to work with the Sith Empire, either publicly or covertly. Jheeg proposes that I present myself as a known pirate, the Red Blade. I’ve never heard of this person, but Jheeg insists his exploits are well known throughout Hutt space, with the bonus that no one has EVER SEEN HIS FACE, or even generally what he looks like. This strikes me as a fairy tale, and also as an ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE IDEA, even if this Red Blade *is* a real person. The only part of the plan that seems reliable is the crate of gifts Jheeg has procured: various objet d’art and exquisite foods of such rarity I suspect most of it was illegally obtained, and the rest cost more than I’ll make working for Intelligence for the rest of my life.

Hutts are vainglorious and prize ostentation more than anything…it is entirely possible that I could identify myself as the long-absent Sith Emperor and Nem’ro wouldn’t look twice with a load like this available. My fears rush back in when Jheeg discloses he has LOST THE CRATE. Or rather, he left it unguarded in this den of thieves and unsurprisingly someone just walked off with it. Considering he knows exactly where the crate is and who took it, I doubt things happened exactly as he claims. In fact I suspect a double-cross and disappearance is in the works, but Jheeg has clearly not been working with professionals.

Within minutes I have literally murdered everyone in the building NEXT DOOR, where the nefarious burglars were waiting in ambush. I return to Jheeg’s house just as he’s ending a holocall. He keeps his voice smooth and even, but I can see his hands trembling. The call from Keeper comes in and Jheeg practically runs for the door when informed he is no longer needed. I protest the wretch’s “mistake,” which Keeper acknowledges but defers Jheeg’s reassignment to coffin-filling detail to a future date. Being the professional double-agent and soon-to-be triple agent I am, I demur to Keeper’s decision. I rustle up some concealing armor, apply a few dye-packs, and saunter in to Nem’ro’s palace just off the spaceport. I up my estimation of Nem’ro’s intelligence: when you move at the speed of a slug, always stay close to your escape route.

The center of Nem’ro’s abode is his semi-private cantina; the guards didn’t even look twice as I walked in. Hutt’s usually are more…obvious…with their security systems. I’ve even heard mention of an ongoing turf war with a neighboring Hutt, Fa’athra. The natural conclusion is that Nem’ro has invested heavily (legally or otherwise) in better electronic security. I file this tidbit away for future use, and make a note to check every room I’m in for listening devices and hidden cameras. Just as in the “Poison Pit,” there are deals being made and people begging for help. I drift into a lounge off the main floor. I keep seeing people enter and leave with purpose, and I surmise this is probably my destination. As I meander down the bar, drink in hand, I overhear someone mention “The Red Blade.” Two people near a door watch me watch them, so I head over.

The big bruiser advises me on proper Hutt etiquette and takes me in to meet Nem’ro. It was the woman I heard mention me, and everyone already knew who I was before I entered the bar. Not that I’ve made it a secret, but pure word of mouth shouldn’t have moved THAT fast. Nem’ro clearly has informants or listening devices every ten feet in Jiguuna. Nem’ro is impressed with the gifts, but a Twi’lek advisor named Toth’Lazhen interrupts with news of another Fa’athra attack against Nem’ro. Taking me aside, the big guy introduces himself as Karrels Javis, one of Nem’ro’s advisors and the director of ground forces in the current gang war with Fa’athra. Clearly this dispute with Fa’athra is more significant than I’ve heard.

As Karrels leaves, I notice the woman from before watching me intently. There is nothing for her to know, but she clearly suspects. An intelligent creature. This could be a problem, or a benefit. A droid shows me to a room off the cantina I can use. Unlike the room in the “Poison Pit,” this room at least has some semblance of privacy. I check the room for electronic surveillance and find three bugs. Clearly Karrels is overworked; the destroyed remnants of four more listening devices indicate they haven’t been checked since previous occupants departed. Keeper supports this idea, informing me Karrels is the weak link in the Hutt’s advisors; he has not been able to stop Fa’athra’s mercenaries. I am to render professional aid to Karrels Javis as the Red Blade, so that he will once again have Nem’ro’s undivided attention…and the Empire will have Karrels’.

Keeper provides news of unwanted attention as well: a member of the Dark Council, the Sith Lord Darth Jadus, has decided he wants to be personally minding Imperial Intelligence (like I said, they always think they need to be in charge of something) and unfortunately has become interested in my little mission to fool a Hutt into siding with the Empire. Why this fascinates a Darth so much, Keeper doesn’t want to know…or at least that’s all he will say publicly. I *DO* want to know, because unless I receive word from the Expansionary Defense Force that this is expected, I’m going to have to figure out how to kill Dark Lord in public without anyone knowing. Doable, I suppose, but not compatible with my current mission.

Could the woman be responsible? I can conceive of no rational explanation for the flunky of a minor Hutt to have Sith contacts, but neither can I conceive of this alleged Darth Jadus being interested in a Shvash mining operation that would result in a short-term boost in adrenals and explosives for the Imperial military. I’m solving a logistics problem…there is no power here for a Sith.

Something the woman COULD be responsible for greets me as I leave my room: a smuggler name Dheno approaches me and makes clear he knows what the Red Blade looks like, and I clearly do not. I owe Jheeg TWO deaths at this point. “No one knows what The Blade looks like” MY PERFECTLY TONED CHISS BACKSIDE. I’ll murder him with a targeting scope and a flashlight, then resurrect him on the alter of a Dark God, then do it all again.

I give Dheno a hug but forget I’m holding my favorite disemboweling dagger in front of my stomach. Oops. Thank gods I’m in a Hutt establishment; Karrels runs up, glances at poor Dheno, and just says “Glad to see you’re enjoying the Palace.” But death and deception are on a roll, and he nearly earns the same fate by asking how things go for working for the Empire. Dheno was a stranger, but someone will notice if Karrels suddenly drops, so I stall and ask him what he means as I search for some poison or tranquilizer in one of my belt pouches.

“You’re an independent, you’ve worked for everyone,” Javis explains, and I relax. “My boys are doing a deal with the Empire, and I worry.” Ah…an opening. I reassure him that the Empire will play straight with whoever plays straight with them…generally true, as long as they aren’t dealing with a Sith.

Just outside Jiguuna is a work camp for the indigenous Evocii. These are the true natives of Evocar, what the Hutts call Nal Hutta. The Evocii are a fairly primitive race by galactic standards, having not yet achieved independent space travel. The Hutts bought the planet from them with useless garbage that the untraveled Evocii were amazed by, then enslaved the entire race to work the Shvash mines and build Nar Shaddaa. The Evocii themselves tend to be small but tough. I can’t imagine how they live outside the population centers; the evidence of chemical poisoning and disease is everywhere. Karrels has sent me here to recover a shipment of rare ore stolen by Evocii. Karrels’ men are useless in the swamps, and the Evocii can evade them easily. So Karrels has just been sending various groups of thugs to terrorize the work camp until someone literally gives up the goods.

I interrupt three men mercilessly beating what appears to be an old Evocii. This is the domicile described to me as the “chief’s,” so I assume this is who I need to talk to. I send the thugs away, and note the Chief regains his composure almost immediately despite the brutality. These Evocii are definitely sturdy. The Chief explains that, as he has told dozens of Karrels’ men, the shipment is being kept in a nearby village just a bit deeper into the swamp. The Evocii there intend to rise up against the Hutts; they stole the shipment not only the spite Nem’ro, but to use the ores themselves.

Karrels’ goons hope that if they bully enough Evocii in the work camp, somebody will wander into the next village and bring the ore back. But the Evocii in the work camp are considered traitors by the rebellious Evocii. Beating the workforce isn’t going to solve this problem. But murder never bothered me anyway and a quick jaunt into the swamp with a dagger, a blaster rifle, and a repulsorlift soon has the remains of the ore shipment back at Nem’ro’s.

On the way to meet with Karrels Javis, the woman I’ve been blaming for everything pulls me aside. Her name is Kaliyo Jhannis, and it turns out SHE is the head of security in Nem’ro’s Palace. Kaliyo is the one who knew I was the Red Blade, so she is presumably the person responsible for the extensive information network. But she’s also the one responsible for the poor bugging job in my room. There are contradictions here. Kaliyo gets to the point immediately, if conversationally. She wants to know what happened with that Dheno guy I had to kill. I brush it off as an old grudge, but it’s clear she’s not buying it. Her tone only carries the minor implication of a threat, though…more than anything she seems interested. She gives me the impression of a cat that has just spotted a mouse in the corner of the room.

After delivering the ore shipment to Karrels, I contact Keeper. He brings up Kaliyo before I can: she’s a freelance assassin, bonebreaker, scammer, and professional betrayer. The only good news in that list is she clearly has no loyalty to anyone, and is likely working for Nem’ro solely to build up a bit of bankroll before moving on. Now that she’s in the Empire’s sights, however; the power to waive prosecution for her crimes committed in Imperial space, and a plentiful purse would likely buy her allegiance, at least temporarily. Until that time comes, we will continue doing Karrels Javis’ work for him. I am to travel to Fa’athra’s own mining facility, located on the opposite side of the nearby swamplands, and collapse the central gas intake. This will prevent Fa’athra from tapping the same Shvash source as Nem’ro.

Chiss stealth technology is the finest in the galaxy. I quickly make my way to the head of the gas intake in the service control room and dump 10 kilos of high explosive in an impact-trigger case into the service hatch. Back in Jiguuna I give the details to Karrels so he can bring the good news to Nem’ro. He tells me he’s had a gift sent to my room, then tells me he wants me to meet his sons in a few weeks. Oh, no; dear Karrels. If I was writing a novel, that’s as good as a death sentence. “Come meet the family; I’m retiring in three weeks and you won’t get another chance.” I can’t help but feel Karrels’ luck will be changing soon, which is too bad considering all the good fortune I’ve brought him the last few days.

However, I rescind, at least temporarily, any kind thoughts for Mr. Javis when I reach my room near the cantina: four highly-suspect people seem to be installing a new listening device under the desk. Karrels as good as admitted it…except he’s not a good enough actor to pull off that conversation about his sons. He is certainly clumsy enough to bungle who he hires to do the job and the timing, but this doesn’t feel like him at all.

Kaliyo? If she’s the head of security this is her department. But…I saw her with Karrels only minutes ago and she left to take care of some business after greeting me. She’s definitely smart enough to not screw up the installation knowing I was back and having opportunity to fix a problem. The report from Keeper of her interests and lack of loyalty explain the broken listening devices AND how good her spy network is: she’s listening for her own interest, not Nem’ro’s. She knows who makes it into the palace, and if they reach a private room, they’re already vetted enough that she knows all she needs to know. This explains the personal meeting, as well; I intrigue her, but she’s pretty sure I’m no threat to HER interests. No, this is a third party, and I’ll need to look into that.

Keeper confirms as much when I contact him. He has bad news, but my home invasion isn’t on the list. Karrels’ sons (I KNEW IT) had a “run in” with a Sith Lord’s apprentice. The apprentice killed one son and crippled the other. Karrels Javis will hear this news at any minute, and any sympathy for the Empire that could be exploited soon will be gone. I am to disable his room’s security with a Republic-engineered data spike, and then “remove” Javis permanently. After which I am to approach the other advisor, Toth’Lazhen, and offer the resources of the Red Blade to find out who had Karrels killed using Republic technology. I assume our goal will be to pin this information on Fa’athra, somehow; but let’s get the assassination and commiseration done first.

After offering assistance to Toth’Lazhen, I return to my room to contact Keeper and find Kaliyo waiting for me. Paranoia leaps, but I remind myself that whatever she knows, and I presume she knows A LOT, she’s in it for herself and the Empire has leverage. Sure enough, her opening move is to let me know SHE knows what I “did” to Karrels. I wonder if the security scrambler I used was ineffective or if she’s deducing and guessing. Regardless, I think there’s enough evidence to suggest she’s the only person truly in charge of electronic security in Nem’ro’s bunkhouse. I’ll either have to get that information out of her, or I’ll have to burn the entire palace down.The first option may actually be difficult; the second isn’t actually a viable choice.

Thankfully Kaliyo lays her cards down: whatever I’m doing, she wants in. Keeper joins the conversation over the holo. Long story short, she’s ready to move on from Nem’ro and she thinks working with me for Imperial Intelligence may be fun. For a while. I would certainly rather have her on my side than against me…Kaliyo is definitely the most competent individual I’ve run into on this noxious rock.

To conclude my mission on Hutta, Kaliyo and I will steal a security recording from Fa’athra’s hole on the other side of the swamp, next to the gas mining operation I blew up. We will then spike the recording with information indicating Fa’athra has been getting Republic technology directly from the Republic, secretly. Some of this tech is what “allowed a Fa’athra hit squad” to gain access the Karrels Javis’ room and murder him in retaliation for the destruction of Fa’athra’s mining operation. I see lots of problems with this plan, but it’s better than whatever Jheeg would have come up with, and we have the advantage of Toth’Lazhen already believing Fa’athra has Republic help AND an enraged Nem’ro who isn’t thinking clearly and only wants the best toys to wipe out Fa’athra completely. That is to say, this COULD work.

I’m starting to understand Nem’ro’s insecurities regarding Fa’athra. Fa’athra has an entire compound, not just a palace. And his palace is MUCH bigger and nicer. There are more buildings around it, guards with actual guard stations and towers, more floors; Fa’athra even has his own Rancor Pit! But if you want the final proof Fa’athra is the bigger badass, it’s hanging in Fa’athra’s entrance:

It’s not a painting; I checked. That is a legitimate Hutt frozen in carbonite. It is clear to me that without the Empire’s help, Nem’ro would be a footnote in Jiguuna history within the year. Fa’athra’s palace is teeming with guards, as if he were expecting an assault. Reasonable, given the circumstances. Kaliyo and I would have our hands full if I didn’t have a spare stealth shield. Outside of an unplanned encounter with Fa’athra’s own chief of security, or rather, *former* chief of security, as I had no choice but to murder him, we successfully swipe the necessary holodisc and override the contents.

Kaliyo suggests we delete everything except what we want Toth’Lazhen and Nem’ro to see. Her reasoning is that a full accounting of Fa’athra’s dealings will likely expose all sorts betrayals, and that could lead to Nem’ro crippling his own operation as he seeks vengeance on his own people. I suspect the real reason is that Fa’athra’s accounts may show whatever deals Kaliyo was doing with her boss’s main rival. Modifying the disk further is risky, as Toth’Lazhen might get suspicious. But a) I don’t think we really need to worry about Toth’Lazhen being too picky about this information, b) it’s really Nem’ro we need to convince, and c) if Kaliyo is going to be working with me, I don’t want anyone coming after her in any way. I already suspect her past actions likely dictate her frequent changes in employer and location.

Upon returning to Nem’ro’s we can truly celebrate a completed mission. Toth’Lazhen barely glances at the holodisc before Nem’ro accepts it unquestioningly. Keeper directs Kaliyo and I to take a shuttle to the Orbiting Station, where I can obtain official transportation back to the Imperial Capital on Dromund Kaas. But as we’re leaving Nem’ro’s more-humble-than-Fa’athra’s abode, I receive unwelcome news from the hated Jheeg: the Red Blade, the one that is nowhere near Hutta and that no one has ever seen, is now ON HUTTA on his way to Jiguuna because he knows someone here is impersonating him.

Taking my cue from Fa’athra, I resolve to NOT murder Jheeg. I will have him frozen in carbonite and keep him in my bathroom. I will hang my towels on his outstretched hands. But all that will come later. I am left with no choice but to confront the Red Blade as soon as he arrives in Jiguuna, and silence him forever.

Unfortunately for Mr. Blade, I haven’t forgotten what a shiv between the ribs does to a man. I am here because I have always chosen violence, and I’ve found that very few things can’t be resolved by the judicious application of an electroknife or vibroblade. On to Dromund Kaas.

Paige Francis He/him