There is Unrest in the Forest

[Darth Osano]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JnC88xBPkkc​

When you live on Kashyyyk, every tree is the giving tree. Wroshyr served a multitude of purposes. Lumber, textiles, medicines, consumables, fuel, and chemicals to name a few. A single Wroshyr Tree, felled and processed to the last molecule, was worth millions of credits. The problem was that Kashyyyk was too much of a primitive world to effectively exploit its resources or harvest Wroshyr products in a profitable manner. That, and its inhabitants were far too… Sentimental to enact large scale forestation. Fortunately, the GenoHaradan had more ambition than they did.

As it happened, one Wookiee Clan happened to have fallen on hard times. The Fyyyrol legally controlled vast tracts of Wroshyr forest, but they were too poor and beleaguered to make any use of it. Hundreds of primitive, hostile Wookiee tribes occupied the area and made it all but impossible for them to do anything outside of their village’s confines. Lord Fa would be visiting those Wookiees and persuade them to sell the unusable land to them. It would be challenging, Lord Fa had a way with words. He’d figure it out.

There were additional facets to this operation. Thengil and his Cartel would be courting one of the Trandoshan Clans, the Blackscale, for assistance. Once the land was purchased (and it would be purchased, one way or another), the Blackscales would help deal with the primitives. What they did was of no consequence to Maleagant, so long as they paid their dues for operating in lands the GenoHaradan controlled. Besides, Thengil would be overseeing that. It was hardly Maleagant’s problem.

Vitor Avendahl would be incentivizing the cooperation of the Blackscale Clan through a couple of time honored means. For instance, arming them with better weapons than they usually got a hold of and helping them curb their rivals, the Zssik. Loyal Trandoshans were hard to come by. The GenoHaradan wanted to make sure there were no problems with the Blackscales later on. Going the extra mile, instilling endearment, would see to that.

Once the tribals were under control, Lord Fa would move into the woods. Lumber mills would be constructed and Fa would staff them with the Fyyyrol Clan. They would be grateful for the work opportunities and ambivalent to the fate of the tribals, thanks to their personal history with them. Perhaps some grievances would arrive due to Blackscale presence. As long as the Trandoshans were controlled, Lord Fa could convince them to remain calm and rational. Probably.

Maleagant, as it happened, was not expected to sit idly by for the duration of this enterprise. His Syndicate’s men were busy combing their vast web of contacts for potential buyers of the Wroshyr products. Within the next few days, a nice batch of supply contracts would be set up with organizations around the galaxy. This even included some… Generous charities… eager to take in the tribal Wookiees. How nice of them.

And, of course, there was the matter of the space station. That had been lopped on Maleagant’s plate as well. Since Kashyyyk was essentially a backwater, a private space station would need to be constructed to process all of the material the GenoHaradan brought to and from Kashyyyk. Nobody here wanted to lose track of what was going on. There was going to be a lot of money involved, and with any luck, Maleagant’s share of the money would be put towards the enrichment of his Syndicate’s paramilitary forces.

 

[TB-705]

“Ssso, thisss would be a lumber company?” Hissed a tall bi-pedal reptilian. His short snout, three clawed hands, and lack of a tail marked him as a member of the T’doshok. Yet he sat in a hoverchair, legs too spindly to hold his weight.

[SIZE=11pt]“Of a sort, Sserzap,”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] rumbled a muscle-bound Cathar, with a braided mane and numerous earrings. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Tell me, do you remember when we fought upon the fields of Concord Dawn?”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The T’doshok chieftain nodded.[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“We ssslew many that day, praissse the Ssscorekeeper.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“And am I not still your ghrakhowsk?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Sserzap nodded, clasping claws and beating them against breast. “Yes, Thengil. We owe you a life debt.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Follow me now, as you did then, and clan Blackscale will reap many jagganath points.”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I would, ghrakhowsk Thengil, but after I lost legs the clan replaced me. I do not lead clan Blackscale.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The feline’s brows lowered. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Who does?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Goroth Ssseven-Claw.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Thengil let out a chuff of disbelief. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“The Vong slayer?”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“The sssame.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I heard he fell on Manaan.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“What will you do?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Whatever needs to be done.” [/SIZE]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

It could never be overstated how much Lord Fa disliked slavery. In his opinion it was the bane of modern civilization and the only individuals who truly practiced it were distasteful degenerates who breathed through their mouths and were incapable of higher cognitive functioning.

But here the Thirriken was right now. On Kashyyyk, near the settlement of XXXX, within the heartland of Fyyyrol territory. Former Fyyyrol territory, seeing as his associates and himself had bought the land for a reasonable price to make use of it.

In all honesty Lord Fa did not understand why they needed to include slavery in this business. The sheer amount of money that would flow in, if they were able to establish a monopoly on the export of Wroshyr limber was so exceptionally large… that taking this risk with slavery seemed completely incompetent.

Thengil had insisted, of course.

So, as a trustworthy and competent associate, Lord Fa had simply decided to wash his hands off of it entirely. His role in this business was simple: first, the acquisition of heavy machinery and equipment. This would be exported from the Humbarine Sector, which was nearby and held close relationships with his own company. With them he’d start construction of the lumber mills that would be used for the actual processing of the trees.

From there it was a simple matter of hiring the wookiees from Fyyyrol Clan to work at the lumber mill camps.

This could possibly hit them back in the face, if Lord Fa did not approach it carefully, but if the Thirriken was anything it was diplomatic in his approach for the most part. Unless you suggested an inane idea like sullying your legitimate business with gorram slavery.

Then all you got was a roll of the eyes and a disgusted expression.

 

[Zef Halo]

Trandoshans were nasty sentients to deal with. At least, that’s what June had told him. Vitor had not dealt with representative of that race before and June’s presence beside him certainly helped. The acolyte was informed of the situation and what the GenoHaradan’s goals here were.

Specifically his.

The arming of the Blackscale clan. One of two major Trandoshan clans on Kashyyyk.

Their operations included slavery and war with their rival clan the Zssik family. In both operations, the acolyte would help. As every war was fought with weapons, Vitor would be making sure the Blackscale Trandoshans realize that his weapons were a massive factor in strengthening the Blackscale’s position and influence on Kashyyyk.

Luckily for Vitor, the chief of Blackscale clan was excited on the prospect of being armed with weaponry that was by far superior to their own. The others of the clan seemed impatient. Nonetheless, their chief’s authority was supreme and kept them in control.

The repulsor carts stopped in front of the clan chief and he eagerly opened them. Taking out a G-35 from the crate, he examined the weapon. It was slightly different than the stock model - it was designed for Trandoshan hands.

Impatiently, he cocked the rifle and aimed at a tree in the distance. The rampaging sound of the weapon firing made the rest grin, before the clan chief changed the trajectory of the bullets to a closer tree and then to a nearby faux target with durasteel armor on. Eventually, the magazine finished and the clan chief turned to Vitor surprising him with an annoyed tone.

“Whatsss thissss recoil, human ?” The chief’s mood quickly picked up among his clanmates. June had warned Vitor that should they be disappointed, they might as well eliminate him here and there with no care about the consequences.

Through the Force, Vitor felt their trigger happy nature and eagerness to shed blood. He felt June’s intimidation and her desperate touch on her holstered bolt blaster. The acolyte also realized his hand was closer to the concealed lightsaber hilt.

The Force, once again, was there to open his eyes, to whisper to him, to show him the details unseen to anyone else. It showed him the way. Through the Force, Vitor saw their weakness and thus how to counter them. Not only physically, but psychologically.

“A recoil one would think the strongest of the Blackscale would have no issue controlling.” A direct strike at the Trandoshan’s pride and generally supremacist view of their race over others. Vitor heard the mental gasps of the rest of the clanmates. He also felt the clan chief being thrown back.

“Give me all that.” The clan chief declared and trying to recover his position, he pushed Avendahl back. The acolyte let himself be pushed back and mentally smirked. “Bring all your ssstock in, human. Letssss ssssee whatsss ssssoooo sssspecial about it.”

 

[Darth Osano]

New Hsskor was a Cardan V-Class Space Station that had been tugged out here. It had been abandoned in some backwater neck of the Tingel Arm. The Helix Syndicate’s shock troopers had claimed the station from the pirates inhabiting it, then its star fleet had tugged it all the way out here. It was still undergoing renovations now. Many of the weapons were being salvaged for scrap to make room for more cargo space and the various refineries needed to process Wroshyr wood. No one would dare blow up a civilian station so close to Alliance space, or so Maleagant would hope.

Renovations might have been underway, but Maleagant could still reside in his office on the station while he reviewed the information brought to him by Eugene. These were the potential buyers, the interested parties. More than a few organizations noted for trafficking in… Well, let’s just say Solan Charr would not be pleased. Fortunately no one would find out. The GenoHaradan would run a tight-lipped ship. Maleagant folded back one page of the stapled document… Then another. He kept perusing, keeping Eugene waiting in front of his desk in anticipation.

“This section,” Maleagant said, holding up the document for Eugene to see what he was talking about. “Cut everyone from there except the Zygerrians. Don’t speak to them again.”

For the Zygerrians, the peculiar institution Maleagant was dealing on the outskirts of was a cultural thing. Tradition. Their government was involved with it as a matter of policy. When it ran that deep, they knew how to handle it discreetly. Discrete was what Maleagant strived for in all things. Eugene clicked open his stylus and made several lines through his copy of the document. Maleagant flipped through it once more, made a few cross-outs of his own, then dropped the document back on his desk.

“Make my edits and then send it to the others. They’ll want to know just how many customers we have lined up for this.”

“Right.” Eugene replied, taking the document from where it lay and marching out from the room.

Maleagant reclined a little further in his chair, rotating to look out the viewport. Another freighter with construction supplies was docking...

 

[TB-705]

The Rodians stood back apace, One-Eye and his brothers in command. The Tanwa had dealt with Trandoshans before, they knew how the game was played.

Thengil strode from their midst and toward the gathered reptilians.

They stood upon grassland, long stalks gently rippling beneath the wind’s ministrations, like an ocean of green. The way the wind played across the surface reminded Thengil of the tall savanna grass of his homeworld. He had not seen the plains of his homeland in an age. He was no longer welcome upon the planet.

Beyond the Trandoshans, some ways in the distance, sat a small town. One of the Blackscale clan’s lesser villages. Not one of the great cities on Dosha by any extent, but Thengil would have been a fool to think that more of the Blackscales did not lay in wait, hidden by the long grass.

From the middle of the Trandoshan ranks strode one taller than all the rest. He wore black body armor, the signature of the Blackscale clan. Brown of hide and strong of limb, no weakness or defect marred this T’doshok save one. As Ri’shajirr drew closer he could spot it, a genetic defect. The reptilian had an extra claw on his left hand, smaller than the others. Useless.

“Goroth Seven-Claw.”

The Trandoshan stopped and tasted the air with a forked tongue. “I sssmell Cathar. Good peltsss. Fine price.”

“You would have to take it first.”

“An easssy tassk, barely worth the pointsss it would gain.”

Thengil’s lips curled, but he suppressed the violent urge. “I bear a twofold offer that would enrich the T’doshok of Blackscale and lay low your rivals. Will you not hear it?”

“No. Once before thisss one came to the Blacksscaless. We followed him, but he was captured. Many T’doshok died.”

“I brought you many points.”

Goroth shook his head. “Hisss capture shamesss him. Hisss points are zeroed.”

Some of the other T’doshok stirred at this, hissing their assent.

The grass rustled with a flash of yellow ochre. A roar split the air, savage as rolling thunder on the empty plains. Thengil’s clenched paw met Goroth’s gut. The blow doubled the Trandoshan over, straight into Ri’shajirr’s raised knee. A violent hiss emanated from Goroth as he whipped his head up and back, cracking against the underside of Thengil’s jaw. The feline’s teeth snapped together from the force of the blow. He bit into his tongue.

Thengil stumbled back, mouth filling with blood. Goroth slammed into him shoulder-first. The Cathar fell into the long grass, rolled up to his feet, and met the T’doshok’s rush.

The air filled with hisses and growls as their bodies collided again and again. Claws carved into fur, carved into scales. Blood spattered into the long grass. They fought until the sun reached its apex, until finally Thengil wrapped up the reptilian and slammed him bodily into the dirt. The Cathar moved on top of the lizard and seized one of Goroth’s arms in both paws. He flung his feet out, wrapping them around the arm at the shoulder and over the Trandoshan’s body. Ri’shajirr pulled back on the arm with a mighty heave. Goroth’s elbow snapped with a sound like breaking wood.

Thengil rolled off Goroth and stood. He placed a foot on the reptilian’s neck.

“What of my score now, Goroth?” He panted.

Seven-Claw lay in the dirt, arm broken, bleeding from claw marks in a half-dozen places. “Goroth wass misstaken.”

“And my offer?”

“It will be consssidered.”

 

[Jairus Starvald]

“How is it going, mister foreman.” Lord Fa asked patiently. They were sitting on a speeder, currently hovering over one of the construction camps in former Fyyyrol territory. Underneath him the Thirriken could clearly see process was being made - construction crew were clearing out space and starting to set up equipment.

A supply line had already been established with a makeshift spaceport established a few miles away. That is where most of their equipment was being ran through, because the main spaceport of Kashyyyk was far too away to be of any use of them here.

“Quite well, Lord Fa. We are ahead of schedule and will probably be operational within the next month.” The Rodian seemed slightly distressed though, which the Thirriken easily picked up on.

Humanoids were confusing, but he was starting to learn to figure out when they were angry or sad or confused or a variety of other useful emotions to be aware of.

“Yes, Vunn?”

He did not seem to be very pleased to have been discovered in his moment of doubt. A cough escaped him, before Vunn scratched at an old scar on his neck.

A nervous tick received from a Sith trooper, back when the Sith had invaded his homeworld. He had been part of the reserve troop back then and couldn’t wait to get out of there alive.

“I have concerns, Lord Fa.”

The Thirriken nodded encouragingly while studying the vague forms of the construction droids doing their job. He loved droids, they didn’t complain, worked hard and did not need any nutrition for the most part.

Truly the perfect workers.

“We are on schedule, but I have heard that there are plans to hire wookiees to operate the machinery once its finished. I think that is a mistake, your Lordship.”

In this instance Tai agreed with the foreman.

Droids were the superior working force here and it was not like the tasks of operating these lumber mills was complex in any shape or form.

But alas, it had to be so for some reason.

“I understand your concerns, Foreman Vunn. I will pass it along to my associates, but I cannot promise anything sadly.”

The Rodian sighed, but then nodded. He had not been expecting anything to come of it anyway. It was why he hadn’t brought it up in the first place, until Fa prompted him to.

 

[Zef Halo]

Every action has a reaction.

Law of the Galaxy and who was Vitor to dispute it or the Blackscale clan Trandoshans ?

The Zssik clan had been harassing and undermining the Blackscale clan’s authority and rule over Kashyyyk’s Trandoshans. Despite their greater numbers and strength, the Blackscale clan was not able to counter the Zssik too well to stop them from continuing these partisan activities.

Well, now they had the ability to do so. Corondex Arms had brought the weapons and all the Blackscale needed to do was pull the triggers.

The result was obvious. Blackscale had struck a small settlement but considered well fortified. Nothing strategic or anything like that. No, this obviously to send a message. To make a point. To break morale. Psychological warfare. These move was, obviously, a production of General Saigo, Wraithguard’s chief of staff. If there was anyone out there who knew where to strike and how to win a war - that was him. Blackscale certainly benefitted from his input.

Their savagery and barbaric way of life was revealed at their cruel dealings with any prisoners they had caught after overrunning the settlement. Even their war fervor was more of a predator’s uncontrollable thirst for blood.

When the settlement was finally conquered, their bloodthirst was sated. The Zssik’s rebellious activities declined over the next few weeks, eventually completely halting and leaving the Blackscale’s rule undisputed once again.

 

[Darth Osano]

On the surface of the station, welding crews were putting some final touches on the hull. Nothing too extreme, just some minor repairs to keep everything looking nice. The giant green orb of Kashyyyk loomed behind them, partially shrouded in darkness. Maleagant was observing this from the viewing deck when he heard someone creeping up behind him. There was no need to turn around to see who it, Maleagant was already familiar enough with the greasy aura that being projected. It was the station manager.

The station manager Maleagant hired was a Pantoran, Giles Trolvoni. Trolvoni had a good reputation in a lot of circles with bad reputations. If you had to put a name on what he did, he was the public-relations guy for the Noidian Mob back on Pantora. He knew how to snuff out rumors, how to keep things contained and people quiet. There were a lot of things that were going to need to be contained about this operation. That was why Trolvoni was being paid so much to keep things running both smoothly and quietly. He had the expertise, Maleagant had the credits. It was a win-win, provided Trolvoni didn’t muck anything up too badly.

“Hewd dere’s been some twouble on Twandosha,” said Giles.

His speech impediment might have sounded comical, but Maleagant had it on good authority that there were a lot of Patorans who met an untimely, unnecessary demise for mocking Giles about it to his face.

“There has.”

“A Cathaw beating up a Bwackscawe-”

Maleagant turned around abruptly. Cold yellow eyes bored into Giles, cutting the Pantoran off mid-sentence. “Am I paying you to manage Trandosha?”

“No...”

“Or the Blackscales?”

People like Giles were gossip-mongers. It was a wonder he hadn’t been born an Arconan. Giles might have been able to pull this usual shtick on his other employers, but Maleagant did not have the time or the patience to trade rumors with a second-stringer nobody, whose highest position was overseeing an unscrupulous trade staton. This was part of the same routine where Giles buddied up to his bosses, hoping to be made privy to information above his paygrade. Not because he could do anything with it or intended to do anything with it, but just because he liked to know. Giles loved juicy gossip. It explained all those repulsive celebrity tabloids he had mailed to him from Pantora.

Yes, of course Maleagant had his mail checked every time it came in. Wouldn’t you?

“Then no more questions about anything, unless it is regarding this station.” Maleagant said, stepping closer. “Am I clear?”

Giles averted his eyes. “C- cwystal.”

Maleagant stood in front of him for another few moments, allowing the discomfort to grow and the tension to mount.

“Is your office space adequate?”

“...Yes.”

“Good.” Maleagant turned away from Giles and returned to his position at the viewport, hands clasped behind his back. “You may leave.”

The last sound Maleagant heard for a while was the door shutting behind Giles as he briskly left.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

A small delegation consisting of dignitaries and Lord Fa himself were scheduled to meet with the Elders of Clan Fyyyrol. They had already met a few times in the past - mostly to stamp out an agreement on the purchase of the lands and to minimize any issues that could arise during the transition period of said land.

But luckily there weren’t many conflicts in response to the purchase. They had purchased the land for a reasonable sum and left enough room for the Fyyyrol settlement to realistically expand. At least for the new two decades, after which projections suggested they would have to start looking for new solutions to counter over-population. But that wasn’t Lord Fa’s concern and it had not been the concern of the Fyyyrol Elders apparently.

Perhaps the frustration with the feral wookiees on their territories had made them lose all their patience. Then the offer was dropped on their lap and they couldn’t sell fast enough, to make the problem go away entirely.

<< Lord Fa, you honor us. >> Yarua’s voice boomed across the settlement as the delegation slowed down to a stop near the outskirts of the village.

He held a staff and behind him were the other elders. All of them were wearing ornate symbols of their station. Staffs, masks, rings and chains that singled them out as something special. But they were no warriors, not these ones anyway.

Merchants and those were entities that Lord Fa could understand.

<< Elder Yarua, the honor is mine. >> He attempted in his best Shyriiwook, but it only elicited laughter from the assembled Wookies.

<< Please… speak Basic, you won’t insult us, I swear that on the blood of my forefathers. >>

Yarua led them into one of the larger tents. Food was already on display as were a variety of drinks, in return Lord Fa had brought gifts to please them and show his respect.

“The negotiations then?”

<< Yes. Let us begin. >>

 

[Zef Halo]

Helix Syndicate’s efforts in orbit of Kashyyyk consisted of building a space station. Vitor had found it imperative, after General Saigo’s suggestion, that a small section of the space station is outfitted with sophisticated listening and monitoring systems. Standard equipment that intelligence services around the galaxy used to tap into information feeds.

Kashyyyk, for some reason, had always been of interest to major powers around the world. Having such information gathering systems here was advantageous to the GenoHaradan, at least that’s what Vitor thought. He was not an idiot, though.

The section looked nothing different than a standard communications area aboard a starship or a space station. Just in case someone came snooping around, they would find nothing out of the ordinary. The key to the sophisticated setup were in the hands of the Helix Syndicate and Wraithguard. More specifically, Maleagant and Vitor Avendahl.

Even Giles Trovoni, the station manager, was not aware of this. Maleagant was not that stupid to rely such valuable information to such a big mouth that the Pantoran was.

When the space station was finally finished, the GenoHaradan would’ve expanded their information gathering services closer to the Core.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

“I’ve beeeen loooggin’ that good Wroooshyyyr. Aaaall the liiive long daaaay.”

[SIZE=11pt]“Shut the kark up and drive, Jiimi.” Luchy LeFrange checked his horns in the mirror. Undamaged. Surprising, since Jiimi was driving like a crazy person.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Luchy could barely hear anything over the groan of the falling trees, the hum of machinery, and the constant whine of buzzsaws. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Truly massive machines carved giant swathes through the dense Kashyyyk forest, slowly but steadily felling a path to a Wroshyr tree in the heart of the forest. Trandoshans from the Blackscale clan worked the machines. Luchy LeFrange and Jiimi Skrambles were just here as observers, to make sure everything went according to plan.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]So far, so good. The land they purchased from the Elders could be deforested to their hearts content. Minus one small problem.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Why are we stopping?” Luchy asked.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Don’t know bossman, let’s ask the super friendly Trandoshans if they can hurry it up.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“You are really on one today. Did you not get enough salt?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Aw kriff off, hornboy.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Rolling his eyes, Luchy dismounted the speeder and walked over to one of the Trandoshan clansmen. “Hey what’s going on?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“We are at basssse of tree.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Yeah I can see that.” The trunk of the Wroshyr was so thick Luchy couldn’t see the other side in either direction. Craning his neck up, he reckoned he couldn’t see the top either. “How long is this gonna take?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“We need more workerssss.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“And?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“We are waiting.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Ok.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Luchy went back to the speeder. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“What are they doing?” Asked Skrambled.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Waiting.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Hm.” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]And wait they did. A whole hour or so before they heard the hum of a large landspeeder. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Is that what I think it is?” asked LeFrange.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“A landspeeder loaded to the brim with high explosive military grade ordnance? Yes it is.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Where the kark did they get that stuff?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Our friends in the Wraithguard.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Nice… How high is that thing?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Mmm, I’d say about three kilometers.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Yippy skip.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Mhm.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“They gonna blow it down?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“That’s what it looks like.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Luchy started grinning ear to ear. He always liked a good display of fireworks.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Of course, what none of those gathered in the logging column knew was that the tree housed an entire colony of Wookiees. This far into the interior, the Wookiees were not as civilized as their coastal kin. This tribe did not have airships. Nor ground transportation. They lived in the Wroshyr and hunted the Old Way. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]And now some group of outworlders had arrived at the foot of their home, with strange beasts that hummed like a swarm of insects. Hotter heads prevailed, as oft did among Wookiee tribes, and they commenced the attack at once.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=11pt]“Say what’s that?” Asked Jiimi.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Luchy squinted at what looked like rain coming from the tops of the branches. But he hadn’t seen green rain like that before. LeFrange’s eyes widened and he dived out of the speeder.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The volley of energy quarrels struck a second later. They ripped into machinery, shredded Trandoshans, and ricocheted to cause even more damage. The quarrels fell so thick and fast that they choked the air. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]LeFrange could smell that familiar scent of blood and smoking bodies. Trandoshan corpses lay on the ground, steam curling from shredded flesh. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Holy kriff. Holy kriff.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He could hear Trandoshan survivors yelling. He didn’t speak T’doshok very well, but it sounded like they were saying something about “droids.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A Wookiee voice bellowed down from somewhere high in the canopy. <<These sacred lands. Go back outdwellers. This tree no belong to you.>>[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A Trandoshan yelled back. <<Fyyrul gave us these lands. Your tree is ours.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]<<Trandoshan?>> [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]LeFrange did not speak Wookiee, but blind rage was a pretty universal language.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Every Wookiee in the tree roared their hate for the Trandoshan enslavers. The tree shook with their primal fury. The skirmish resumed as Wookiees hidden in the canopy took potshots at helpless Trandoshans below. [/SIZE]

 

[Azimuth Industries]

Jiimi and LeFrange hid under the speeder for what felt like hours. Trandoshans traded fire with the Wookiees up top, but it didn’t seem to be going so hot.

[SIZE=11pt]Suddenly, there came the sound of deep-throated blasterfire, the sort that came from a mounted light repeater.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“You[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] wakamancha wermos[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt],” said a heavily accented voice. Luchy looked up to see a four-eyed Aqualish peering down at him from what was basically a light armored hover tank. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Narbo what the kriff. You’re going to get shot. There must be over a hundred wookiees up there.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Narbo rested on the light repeater he was manning, while the other clutched his belly. He laughed. “Hohoho. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Nobata[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]. Sim gonna show Wooky how to dance in the tree tops, eh?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“What?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Something heavy hit the ground near Jiimi and exploded, spattering him in a spray of gristle. Jiimi screamed.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Howls of fear echoed through the Wroshyr tree, then it started to rain Wookiees. They fell screaming. Most fell to become wet smears on the ground below, but some landed on branches, which either bore their weight or broke, sending them tumbling down. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Luchy pulled out a pair of macrobinocs and peered up at the treetops. Strange roundish creatures were swinging from branch to branch, grabbing Wookiees and launching them into the air. They had red, cyclopean eyes.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Blackscales didn’t just buy weapons [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]sleemo[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]. Used Hegemonic Automaton stock. Like Sim. Hohoho.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]After the A2 Jungle Droids cleared the branches of the Wroshyr tree, the Blackscales used a nerve agent they’d purchased from the Cartel, who in turn had received the stock from Arctis Genetics laboratories, an Arkanian corporation. They pumped the tree full of the gas, then rushed inside and started rounding up the paralyzed Wookiees. They called the tactic “beefarming.” LeFrange could see why. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]By the end of the day all of the living Wookiees received a triple dose of savorium herb from Zareca plantation. The [/SIZE]doped up tribe complacently obeyed the Trandoshan demands. [SIZE=11pt]A steady supply of the herb would keep the new labor force in a happy stupor. Of course, that meant that the Trandoshans would depend on Zareca for a steady supply, which was just fine for the Cartel. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Blackscales intended to market a percentage of the captured population as “exported labor.” The rest would be “exploited labor” to be used on Kashyyyk for the lumber business. All of it would be done through the Underworld market, of course. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Zareca would take a percentage of both sides of the business. So far as the rest of the galaxy was concerned, Wroshyr logging was perfectly legitimate. Oh, the governments might embargo the trade due to environmentalist lobbies, but that was a concern for another time.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]For now, they had their lumber and their labor. [/SIZE]