Another hundred years have gone by. I have seen them come and go like tides on a shoreline. Whether it be in politics, business, or the petty squabbles of planetary governors, I have witnessed a lot. The so called new Golden Age has made the galaxy a boring place. There are still wars and conflicts, small brush fires in the Outer Rim, but my power remains unaffected. If anything, the stagnation has only allowed my roots to grow deeper. I would take advantage of it in small ways, nudging a trade route here or collapsing a rival corporation there, just to keep my mind sharp.
I have stepped back from being the visual head of my corporation. It was a calculated move in preparation for the distant future. The Empire. I knew it was coming. It might be centuries away, but the Empire will last twenty odd years, and during that time, the Death Star will be created.
I cannot afford to be targeted by a planet killer. What if Palpatine uses it on me for the first shot instead of Alderaan? I can not block that kind of firepower. Even with my advanced planetary energy shields, physics has its limits. I need to be hidden. I need to be a ghost.
However, that did not mean the power I have gained will go to waste. My corporations will protect me and my interests, and the people will protect the corporation because I feed them, clothe them, and entertain them. The Grove is now a fixture in the galaxy that no one questions thanks to my interference in the Senate. It is one of the safest places to live in the galaxy despite being right next to Hutt space.
Speaking of the slugs, the old powerful Hutts are dependent on me. They realize that getting rid of me would destroy the board game completely. They enjoy the stability I bring to their illegal markets. With that in mind, the young Hutts are always trying to get benefits in any way they can. It has become a disgusting running joke.
I sat in my private viewing deck, looking down at a holographic projection of a very young, very slimy Hutt named Grogba. He had just attempted to siphon three million credits from my shipping lane tolls by hacking a buoy. He had failed miserably.
"So," I said, my voice amplified to fill his throne room on the other side of the comms. "You thought you could reroute my tibanna gas shipments, Grogba?"
The young Hutt, who was barely two tons, wiggled nervously. "Business, it was! Just business, Mighty Bee! A misunderstanding of the coordinates!"
"I am going to seize your personal pleasure yacht as payment for the insult," I stated calmly.
Immediately, the gangster persona vanished. Grogba's massive eyes flickered, fluttering his eyelids rapidly. He slumped his shoulders, trying to look small and adorable.
"Uncle Bee!" Grogba whined, his voice pitching up an octave. "Please do not take the yacht! I just painted it! We are family, yes? I was just playing! Look at me. I am cute!"
"You look like a wet sack of moldy grain," I deadpanned. "I am taking the yacht. Don't do it again."
The Hutts see me as part of the family, and yet that did not stop them from trying to get a sneaky spot of cash. It was endearing in a twisted way.
The Jedi Temple has its problems, but that is not something I am willing to fix and quite possibly not able to fix due to the many contradicting methods hiding in its teachings. Yoda is a fine Master and has trained many Padawans, but the core of the Jedi teaching is too inflexible. They fear emotion. I utilize it.
The Sith still exist, but they are now using the Rule of Two, which in my opinion is stupid and wasteful. The results would eventually pay off with the destruction of the Jedi Order, but it would take them close to eight hundred years to pull it off. That is terrible project management.
This was the Golden Age of the Galaxy. There was peace. Not true peace, as that would be impossible with sentient beings involved, but nothing compared to the last war. I still stole a ship here or a ship there, but it did not hold the excitement it once did. When I stole my first ship, it was the starting point of my wealth. With that ship, I could come and go freely. But now I had the cash to build a fleet of ships from scratch. I had the political power to go where I wanted. The only excitement I got was when I became more powerful.
And that is where I spent my time.
I decided to visit the Nightsisters of Dathomir. They used the Force in unique and interesting ways. They were better than the Sith or the Jedi in some aspects, more flexible and grounded in the physical world, but they were incredibly stuck up. They were an order of women, and me being a man meant they looked down on me.
They also had one of my favor tokens.
Years ago, I came and learned some dark alchemy. I think this helped me with keeping my youth, but I can not be sure. In return, I would give them a favor. They never collected. This meant that they had forgotten about the favor, lost the token, or knew about it but never cashed it in.
I was wrong. It turns out they do have the token. They do remember the favor. And they have been waiting for an appropriate time to use it.
Damn the Force and its weird ways. I thought I was going to get a freebie. How the hell did they know I would still be alive after this many centuries?
However, the Sisterhood is not as unfriendly as the first time I met them. I do not know why as I had not had any interactions with them since the first time. My pondering was answered when they cashed in their token of favor.
I stood before the Matriarch, a tall woman wrapped in crimson robes, her face pale and marked with complex tattoos.
"We require a teacher," the Matriarch hissed, her voice sounding like dry leaves skittering on stone. She held up the golden coin I had minted centuries ago. "You will take apprentices. You will train them here, on Dathomir."
"Here?" I looked around at the gloomy, red lit swamp. "For how long?"
"Until they are ready," she replied.
I could very well take an apprentice. It was within my time and power to do so. But to stay on one planet for years as I trained them was going too far. It sounded tedious.
"I agree," I said, crossing my arms. "But only if you teach me more. I want to know about the Ichor. I want to know how you conjure matter from nothing."
The Matriarch narrowed her eyes. "Knowledge for knowledge. A deal is struck."
The Sisterhood did not like it when I landed my own personal Eden ship on the planet. The Sisterhood was wary of technology. They preferred their bows and their beasts. But I explained that any planet that had a native species of Rancor was a place I was not going to stay without protection.
"My ship stays," I told them. "Unless you want to provide me with a Rancor proof hut with climate control and a hot tub."
They did not, so the ship stayed.
I did not understand why the Nightsisters wanted me to train one of them. However, I did enjoy the way the Nightsisters used and altered the Force. They were the best I have ever seen at it. The Sith were able to create lightning by altering the Force, but due to a lack of knowledge or imagination, that was all they seemed to do. The Nightsisters, on the other hand, could blast waves of green flames and toxic clouds from the Force. It just took longer and required a lot of chanting.
I was sure I could optimize that. I could cut the chanting down to a thought.
My understanding of the Force is perhaps better than any mortal in the galaxy because I view it as a tool, not a religion. I do not shy away from the Dark Side or lose control of it. The Light Side can be useful in many ways, like growing plants and healing, but it takes time to learn and control. If it makes me strong and is useful then I will learn from it, incorporate it, and bend it to my will and needs.
This might be why the Nightsisters want me to train a pupil. The Nightsisters as an order do not like leaving their planet, but they do like power. They live on a planet that is saturated with the Dark Side of the Force, but they do not want to conquer the galaxy. They want their piece of the galaxy secure. They are somewhat a contradiction when it comes to an order, but so are the Jedi. They practice plant and animal manipulation but are not afraid of distorting the natural world with all kinds of crazy things.
One of the many crazy things the Nightsisters had done was use the Force to inspire awareness in a Rancor. The Jedi avoided doing this most of the time because it is a lonely existence when you are the only one of your species who understands that life ends.
The Nightsisters have offered me two pupils to teach. One male and one female.
The male, a Zabrak named Kael, was a rare talented ability user. He seemed to be well adapted to melee fighting. He used a gravity hammer and a jagged vibro knife combo and was very skilled with it. He was better than I was with the same weapons.
He also seemed to be over the top violent.
We were sparring in a clearing near the edge of the swamp. Kael lunged at me, his hammer swinging for my head with lethal intent.
"Again," I said, dodging the blow with a simple side step. "You are telegraphing your strikes, Kael. You scream before you swing. It is dramatic, but useless."
Kael roared and spun, the knife aiming for my gut. He systematically attacked me whenever he could. On the third time he attacked me with genuine killing intent, I decided enough was enough.
He leaped into the air, bringing the hammer down. I did not dodge. I simply raised my hand.
I caught him in a telekinetic grip, freezing him in mid air. I tightened the grip, compressing his armor, squeezing just enough to bruise bone.
"Listen to me, boy," I said, my voice dropping to a cold whisper. "I am not a Sith. If I was, you would be a deformed, dead pile of mush right now. I am a businessman. And you are bad for business."
I slammed him into the mud. He struggled, gasping for air, but with a small bit of extra squeezing, he chose not to fight back. He looked at me with fear. Good. Fear teaches better than words.
The female, Vesper, was a different problem. She was a problem of the mind.
I could feel her mind at work. Just like the male, she also had her sights on my life, but she hid her actions by being a good pupil. She was attentive. She brought me tea. She asked insightful questions about the nature of galactic politics.
It was a good job that I had not gone all out and shown my full power to them because there was an unusual amount of accidents and mistakes that could have damaged me or killed me.
A support beam in the training hall snapped just as I walked under it. A patch of explosive moss was planted exactly where I usually sat for meditation. A wild Rancor happened to wander into my perimeter just as the automated turrets had a momentary power failure.
"Master Bee," Vesper said one evening, offering me a cup of steaming broth. "You look tired. Drink this. It will help with your focus."
I took the cup. I held it in my hand. "Thank you, Vesper. You are very thoughtful."
I did not drink it. Instead, I reached out with my mind, piercing through the shields she thought were impenetrable.
I read their minds.
They did not know anything about my true origins. All they had in their mind was orders from the Matriarch.
Find his weakness. Learn his secrets. Kill him.
They did not know why. It was likely just the Nightsister way. They feared my technology. They feared that I knew too much about their magic. They wanted to milk me for information and then discard the husk.
That meant I was behind enemy lines.
I smiled at Vesper. "I am not thirsty right now. Why don't you have it?"
Vesper stiffened. "Oh, no, Master. It is... rare herbs. Only for the teacher."
"I insist," I said, pushing the cup toward her.
Her eyes widened. She backed away.
"Clumsy me," I said, and dropped the cup. The liquid hissed as it hit the stone floor, burning a hole through the rock.
"Oops," I said dryly. "Acidic herbs. Very rare indeed."
This little plan of theirs had freed me of the deal we made. A contract is void if one party attempts to murder the other. That is standard galactic law, or at least, it is my law.
I would work outside of their expectations. I would stay. I would learn their magic. I would train these assassins. But I would teach them the wrong things. I would teach them flaws. And when the time was right, I would take advantage in any way I saw fit. The Nightsisters thought they had trapped a fly in their web, but they had actually invited a hornet into the hive.