Private Chapter II: The Blackstar Connection

[Damien Dooku]

CHAPTER II: THE BLACKSTAR CONNECTION
THEME​

OUTSKIRTS OF ARADISHU, THE PLANET OF SAVAREEN​

A rhythmic thump shook the sand and rubble surrounding the pair of half-brothers tucked discreetly on a nearby hillside as he over watched the valley beneath them. A train of massive walking hulks, giant machines of war heralding from an era long since lost to the annals of history, slowly proceeded their way down the narrow corridor at the northern edge of this planet's most populated valley. Despite their original function, these hulks had long since been modified for the task of transporting goods and cargo across the unforgiving surface of the backwater planet of Savareen– the world in question being the endpoint of their visit to the Warehouse, where the missing cargo had not been found.

What they did find was the singular piece of evidence that pointed them out this way– a malfunctioning service droid with a gaping hole in its mechanical cranium. The sloppy attempt to destroy the droid's memory core had not been confirmed successful by its assailant, and through a bit of R4's slicing capabilities and his brother's force magic, the trail lead them right to the little known world of Savareen, towards the slave markets of Aradishu to be precise.

And so they waited in the hills, watched the caravans filtering down the valley towards Aradishu, and overall just killed time until something interesting caught their eye. That rhythmic thumping reverberated across the valley, ending their dry spell of inactivity almost within an instant of the machines being felt approaching on the horizon. It wasn't until they were passing right next to them that Damien was certain their appearance might've been precisely what they were looking for in the first place.

"You see that?" He called out, tossing a spare Monocular across to his brother Kyric with his free hand whilst adjusting the magnification of his own at the same time. Surrounding the three modified AT-AT's were an entire convoy of vehicles and men– a veritable army perhaps meant to deter the many factions and syndicates vying for power on the seedy world. A common symbol could be seen emblazoned on their vehicles, and if you looked close enough on the humans and non-humans alike, tattooed on various parts of their person. "Black Star." The words left Damien's mouth filled with contempt.

They were a gang of pirates who functioned more like a Crime Syndicate these days than the starving raiders they had once been ten years ago, long before Damien had ever entered the underworld. Theoretically they were still the same band of undisciplined pirates and raiders they were before, but...this was different. "Their usual M.O. is raiding settlements on worlds lackin' in communication and security infrastructure, but word down the grapevine is they've been spotted ground-side more often than not over the past year, and not for the purposes of raiding. I'm talkin' extortion instead of pillaging, gun-running and..." He paused. There wasn't any reason to be coy with his brother at this point. "Narcotics."

The monocular shifted towards the side of one of the AT-AT's hull, and Damien took note of the other symbol that he did not recognize off the top of his head. While it could've been nothing, there was a uniformity to it that definitely gave him the impression that his intuition was pointing his theories in the right direction. "That on the other hand– I've never seen that one before." Damien pinged the symbol on the monocular's hud, so that Kyric would shift his attention in that direction. It was a white skull surrounded by fingers pointing outwards on all sides, with a downwards triangle beneath it.

"I think we've got ourselves a little bit of a conspiracy to piece together further, brother." Damien lowered the monocular away from his eye, then leaned back on the rocks behind him whilst lighting up his first cigarette in several long and boring hours. His eyes still lingered over the passing caravan of highly protected, and most likely illicit cargo. It was headed for Aradishu, which coincidentally had been their next destination long before the arrival of the caravan onto the scene.

He kicked off the rocks once it had moved out of sight, and turned behind them to face the pair of speeders placed strategically out of sight from any aerial passerbys.

"I say it's about time we pay Aradishu a visit– See where this all connects." ​

 

[Kyric]

Kyric spent the better part of their stakeout in silence. Not that he wasn't keen to catch up with Damien, but the situation proved more complex. The kiffar still wasn't nearly as informed as he would have preferred to be heading into any case. Especially one associated with an organization like the Black Sun.

You appear to have landed yourself in over your head again, Kyr.

He lifted the monocular provided to him and peered through the device. Yeah, I know. All of the information I've personally come across for Black Sun marks them as one of the most dangerous organizations to have graced our humble little galaxy. Not for the first time Kyric was thankful for the nature of so many scavengers on these sandy, backwater planets. Having to clash against the metallic monstrosities would make their skirmish in the slums look like a cakewalk in comparison.

"Can't say I'm familiar, either," Kyric admitted.

This is foolish, even for the two of you.

Kyric could almost imagine her standing there in front of him. Arms crossed over her chest, a look of disapproval at his penchant for danger. I know, I know, but this is how Damien works. He gets into the kinda trouble you don't bring home. I help him get out of it, typically while being kept in the dark about the whole thing. He watched the caravan trudge out of sight. It was a slowgoing process, so he didn't bother Damien about the smoke. Danger lurked in their very near future. The kiffar couldn't blame his kin for wanting to destress before things kicked off.

Getting up after Damien, Kyric rounded the rocks and sand to climb atop his speeder bike, a gift from his father.

"Agreed," Kyric murmured, still half in thought. He watched Damien mount his speeder before he spoke again. "I don't want to go too deep into this, but your mom isn't doing so hot in the polls right now. There are rumors she might be removed from office in the next few years."

Usually, Kyric would avoid bringing her up this way, but the circumstances called for it. "We need to be a bit more discreet going forward. For her sake, Damien."

Damien Dooku | Auteme

 

[Damien Dooku]

Damien hit the clutch with narrowed eyes lingering away from Kyric's direction, a final exhale of a long cloud of smoke signaling the start of their long ride towards the Aradishu. The butt fluttered in the air behind his vintage speeder, which kept up decently well with Kyric's despite the wear on the engine and its age. He was tuning out Kyiric at that point, content with appearing to let his brother drone on about their mother until he as finished.

"You done?" He'd interject, snapping a pair of eyes that exuded both exhaustion and the focus necessary to see this job through till the end. "I stopped giving a shit about polls and statistic long before you decided to saunter your pretty-boy ass onto the scene." He was pointedly being facetious to the nth degree–and he was far from done.

He hit the gas on the speeder and veered the entire thing on what appeared to be a collision course with Kyric, only to align the side of his bike close enough to kick the Jedi in the side if he really wanted to. "This is my life– not hers. She's got an entire populace of useful idiots to worry about before I even come into the picture, chief."

 

[Kyric]

He's not listening to you, you know?

Kyric knew that very well. And he couldn't bring himself to blame Damien, either. Legacy burdened every one of them, perhaps Damien the most. Auteme's position as the Chancellor required more from her than any single person in the galaxy. The Galactic Alliance was a galaxy-wide superpower with staying power. Even a single oversight on her part could see the Core thrust into an era of bloodlust not seen since the One Sith's pillage of Galactic City.

I just don't understand why he can't get that! She must've explained it a thousand times over.

Yeah, maybe. Kyric shrugged as they sped up and over a large dune. Their speeder bikes free-fell for a few long seconds, only coming to a halt a few inches from the ground. It ain't easy watching the people you love choose something else over you, time and time again, Ky. You know that.

Yeah. Her voice repeated. Maybe.

Damien's sudden antics momentarily sent a spike of panic through the kiffar, enough for him to tighten his hold on the clutch and shift gears on the bike. Thankfully, his brother's bravado only went so far as to haze Kyric, so he loosened his grip and eased off the throttle.

"I hear you loud and clear," Kyric called back. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke up again. "Why Savareen? Can't say I've ever been here on my own."

Damien Dooku

 

[Damien Dooku]

He felt a bit better by the end of Kyric's defusal of what could've been another outburst of pent up feelings and emotions. The heavy sigh that fluttered out of his lips was drowned out by the sound of their speeders, but the weight of the emotions he carried was still visible all across the scoundrel's tired, but determined visage.

A hand slid over his face, parting only briefly as to keep his eyes on the road, until he dragged it off the tip of his chin and leaned forwards against the bike's handle-bars. Damien shrugged in the eventual response that broke the few minutes of silence– though the silence might've been for the best, all things considered. "Backwater worlds like this one specialize in one thing only; merchandise that you'll catch fire for tryin' to acquire elsewhere."

It didn't matter whether it was weapons or narcotics, slaves or aftermarket droids meant for murdering your enemies. Aradishu theoretically had it all, but he still couldn't answer just why the Blackstar's were connected to that warehouse on Korriban. "Aradishu specializes in slaves, last I heard. You can still find anything you could imagine in its black market, though, which makes it the perfect location for getting rid of the weight took from my employers."

That was the best connection he could make, given the concrete facts he'd put together since their escape from the city of Dreshdae. "You never told me why you were on Dreshdae." He snapped a serious look in his direction, missing much of the guile that otherwise masked his exterior most any other time. "...She really didn't send you? A legit coincidence? Or somethin' altogether different."

 

[Kyric]

"Backwater worlds like this one specialize in one thing only; merchandise that you'll catch fire for tryin' to acquire elsewhere."

"Aradishu specializes in slaves, last I heard. You can still find anything you could imagine in its black market, though, which makes it the perfect location for getting rid of the weight took from my employers."

Most of that wasn't unfamiliar to the Wayseeker. Kyric's time in law enforcement offered up much the same experiences a career criminal might acquire, only from the other side of the equation. Aradishu, on the other hand, was entirely foreign to him.

"Slaves, huh?" The kiffar tightened his grip on the speeder's handles. He spent the better part of his Marshal tenure putting away slavers throughout the Core. "Least I can feel good puttin' these ones in the dirt."

"You never told me why you were on Dreshdae." He snapped a serious look in his direction, missing much of the guile that otherwise masked his exterior most any other time. "...She really didn't send you? A legit coincidence? Or somethin' altogether different."

Kyric shook his head. "I look out for you 'cause I care about you, Damien. Not for her." He met his half-brother's gaze, then turned his attention back to the sandy horizon. "Korriban was sorta a Jedi thing. The Alliance isn't takin' well to some of their new neighbors, so I've been working double-time on the fringes of Wild Space and the Outer Rim to pick up their slack." He lifted a hand and started counting off planets with his fingers. "Dagobah, Hoth, Cantros, Pantora, Geonosis, bah- you name it. Things are gettin' worse out there. Not better."

Damien Dooku

 

[Damien Dooku]

It had been a long time since he'd genuinely allowed himself to open his mind up to another, let alone the one he knew only as his brother, half-brother, or whatever else you wanted to call it. That made it feel pretty good to hear those words, as he'd almost forgotten that he wasn't alone in the galaxy as much as it felt the opposite at stages of his life. Kyric's response was met with silent, but only briefly as a "Good to know." was given in response. It didn't carry any overt emotion, but it came from a genuine place inside.

Luckily the conversation wasn't allowed to fester into further mushy topics, and he perked up at hearing about the various worlds his brother had visited, even if those visits were only for work. "And here I was thinkin' the Alliance was just some juggernaut that couldn't stop expanding, even if it wanted." It was the nature of the beast as far as he was concerned. Despite its inability to deal with the lingering problems plaguing its member states as a whole, it somehow found itself ever-increasing in size.

He tapped his head on the handlebars on instinct, sighing heavily at the thought of their reach hitting his home turf. Every little tendril that moved towards the Outer Rim was another step towards his job getting a bit more difficult.

His attention returned to the road, and with it to the bevvy of planets he brother began to list out. More than a few of them he'd also had the pleasure of visiting, though he imagined under much different circumstances than the lawman to his side. It was almost comical given how much of the inverse the two were of each other, and even more funny once you took the woman who raised them in consideration. It wasn't abnormal for people to assume that Kyric had been the biological son of the two of them, but fortunately Damien never took it to heart.

As far as he was concerned, their blood was thicker than water.

"We can both agree on that much, i'll give you that." Damien spoke up. "Things are getting harder out there for the folks on the rim, at least." Not that Damien had any room to criticize the state of things, given his own life on the edge. "I just mean.. even I can see it from where I'm at, y'know? You got Megacorps' like Galentro and Rothana pullin' from the Rim, but they're so embedded into the governments of worlds they're on that a vacuum's left every damn time."

He'd seen it too many times to count, as it kept his business brewing with every cycle of repetition. "I don't see how a handful of half-starved Jedi are supposed to do any good. On the opposite, really, it just shows the Rim that the Core doesn't give a shit about them, if you ask me."


Kyric

 

[Kyric]

Again Damien's words were not lost on the kiffar. It was a viewpoint Kyric knew all too well–the ever-benevolent Jedi Order and their continued focus on the Core Worlds. Meanwhile, planets from the Mid Rim to Deep Space were cannibalized by foreign powers. Ironically, it was a stance their mother shared so many years ago. Funny to think her wayward son so strongly clung to the ideals that molded Auteme in her youth.

Kyric smiled to himself.

"I can't speak for any others out there, but I'm only doin' what I can. There are problems all over the galaxy that can't be handled by planetary authorities, be it cause of bum tech or poor preparations. Pickin' up the occasional Sithspawn, or crushin' the rare cult dedicated to a Kainite or Mawite fanatic." He answered truthfully, taking a bit of pride in even his smaller dealings. "It ain't enough. Won't ever be, I'm 'fraid, but that's why I keep goin'. Someone's gotta."

They rolled up and over another dune. Kyric felt his stomach drop out from below him, smiling at the sensation like a child on a rollercoaster. Even if the circumstances of what brought them to Savareen weren't the greatest, the Wayseeker sought to make the most of it.

"I was workin' up potential leads on where this might go. Its all still broad to speculate too seriously, but I've got a bad feelin' about all this, Damien. There's something loomin' out there. And its dangerous."

Damien Dooku

 

[Damien Dooku]

Damien didn't press on the topic any further, as it wasn't so strong in his opinions that he'd go cynical on his brother for no reason. Kyric was correct, after all, in that whatever was being done was better than nothing being done at all. Without the Jedi, the Marshalls, and the Rangers, the worst kinds of scoundrels who have nobody standing between them and the common folk all over the rim.

Kyric's words reminded him of something his mother had told him long ago, back when he was still a youngling with a heart of gold. "Take what you're given, and make it enough." The words left his lips most likely being drowned out over the noise of their bikes. It was something his dad had told his mom, or something like that. He couldn't remember anymore, but it was important enough for her to have remembered it after all these years.

The drop down the dune shook him back out of his thoughts as he hit the clutch and eased his own bike's stabilization gyro before it hit the ground. He popped it back up the next gear right after, increasing his throttle and reappearing right next to Kyric's side once more. His expression turned a bit more serious at the mentioning of the reason for them being here in the first place.

Damien took a few seconds to parse what he could say before opening up his mouth. "We've got local groups far more armed than they should, and pirates far more organized than what they should be capable of too." His mind connected the dots that Kyirc may have been lacking. "I dunno about all that–" His hands let go of the handlebars as he dramatically exaggerated a frightened waving motion in the air to his front. "Spooky force feeling shit man. Intuition is one thing, but you Jedi always take things to another level where it doesn't even need to go."

With his hands back on the handlebars, he refocused back onto the dunes in front of him.

"That symbol, though?" He continued. "The one with the skull and the triangle? That's what got my attention. We're not dealin' with Hutts or Black Sun, the Five Families or the next new fad of Crimson Dawn posers."

From their vantage point he was starting to see Aradishu appear on the horizon. "Whatever they are, somethin' tells me we're bound to find out if we follow our lead on the Black Stars." The irony of the statement was lost on him, it seemed.

Kyric

 

[Kyric]

The Approaching Slave Market was everything Kyric swore to undo.

Despair clawed at his mind, demanding entry via the most malicious of means. Hate seeped into the ground–it clung to each grain of sand stuck beneath the boot of these vile captors. The only joy to be found was in the complete and total domination of another. Credits passed from one grimy hand to the next, all the while, the beaten and broken slaves were dragged kicking and screaming into big metallic cages like animals.

Kyric's hands tightened on his speeder bike's handles. The knuckles on his exposed hand whitened around the time his jaw audibly clenched.

"How do you want to play this?" He asked Damien as they parked their speeder bikes among the many gathered outside the marketplace. "I ain't walkin' out of here with so much as one slave remaining in that pit. I'll need to commandeer one of them troop transports," he motioned with his chin to what was likely part of a pirate fleet, "and then I'll need to kill everything between the slaves and that ship in a convincin' enough way that the slime 'round here don't catch on."

He sighed.

Damien Dooku

 

[Damien Dooku]

THEME​

...THE BLACK MARKETS OF ARADISHU ​

Damien remained the inverse of his brother as the two parked their bikes and immersed themselves into the environment. The hive of despair and black market commerce was nothing new to his eyes. He'd learned to not bat an eyelash at the things you'd see on the streets, and to ignore the worst aspects you could find in the dark alleys and crevices that dotted the exterior around them. It was impossible to approach it any other way in his line of work, and at the end of the day he was just one man without the added benefits of a sword-wielding Jedi.

A sigh escaped his mouth even before his brother had commented what Damien already knew the Jedi was thinking. "Fething hells." He muttered to himself, then leaned back against his bike once Kyric spoke his piece.

"I ain't walkin' out of here with so much as one slave remaining in that pit. I'll need to commandeer one of them troop transports," he motioned with his chin to what was likely part of a pirate fleet, "and then I'll need to kill everything between the slaves and that ship in a convincin' enough way that the slime 'round here don't catch on."

"...Let's save the murdering of everything in your path 'till after I get some information, yeah?" Damien asked, though his tone suggested it wasn't really a question. From what little he gathered so far the Black Star's had a warehouse overlooking the slave pits to the east. Those modified AT-AT''s were parked out behind them with their legs brought to a hunch in order to allow for the easier transports of the cargo inside. Long tendrils of rope could be seen descending towards the ground with more fine cord weaved in-between them to form a solid webbing.

Damien nodded his head discreetly in its direction, signaling his brother to have a look for himself. Various species of sentients could be seen being tossed down the webbing from the hatch beneath the hull, their arms and legs tied by some sort of cord or rope. "You wanna do the Jedi thing and save these poor bastards? Go ahead." He shoved his hands into his pocket and pushed off the bike. "But I'm not leavin' this city 'till I get the information I came here for in the first place."

His eyes swiveled back towards Kyric once more, and he offered up a grin. "Don't worry, dude. I'm not gonna just leave you hangin'." Damien clasped a hand on his brother's shoulder before it went back into his pocket. "Once I find what i'm lookin' for, I'll give the place the 'ol Dooku special." The grin widened mischievously before he let out a laugh. It was an evident sign that the younger of the two had no intention of leaving the city without some sort of trouble being brewed.

Kyric ​

 

[Kyric]

"Don't worry, dude. I'm not gonna just leave you hangin'." Damien clasped a hand on his brother's shoulder before it went back into his pocket. "Once I find what i'm lookin' for, I'll give the place the 'ol Dooku special."

"Meh," Kyric started as he climbed off his bike. "As much as I want to help them, now isn't a good time." Freeing the captives was the correct thing to do. No one could deny it, let alone Kyric. Every fiber of his being wanted to take up his saber and set to work on the criminal scum who kept these people in cages. But discretion would prove the better part of valor if the Jedi truly intended to help those stuck in Aradishu.

"It will take a more organized effort than the two of us could manage. I'll need to come back with proper help." Kyric looked back to the web of wiring used by the deviants. "I think I'll focus on intel, instead. If I can lift some data on the warehouse they're stored in, I can formulate a proper plan and call in a bit of help once we're finished here."

Kyric did a quick once over to ensure he had anything he would need to handle his self-assigned objective. Happy with the results, he shifted his dual-colored gaze back at his kin. "I think we should play this as quietly as possible. Radio silence unless absolutely necessary. What do you think about meetin' back up at the bikes in thirty minutes?"

Thirty minutes provided ample time to make a quick round of the facilities, or so Kyric assumed. Aradishu being an isolated affair provided a unique form of protection all its own. He didn't expect a legion of stormtroopers, nor did he assume state-of-the-art Trade Federation security tech. Sandy planets didn't agree with all that wiring.

"If one of us ain't back, the other will circle around and look for 'em. We can repeat this on thirty-minute cycles, or until sunset. If nothin' else, we meet back up where we were watchin' out earlier. Sound good?"

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Damien Dooku ​