Star Wars: Darth Hassan

The red-skinned Twi'lek girls seductively writhed in the center of the hall. Their long lekku resembled well-groomed hair, cascading down their heads and barely covering their already nearly exposed chests. From under their short skirts, glimpses of lingerie sparkled, and the tight tops squeezing their ample bosoms made them appear even larger and more voluminous. The avid spectators couldn't help but want to grope the highly skilled dancers, squeeze their breasts, caress their enticing thighs, and lick their sensitive lekku.

The wealthy lecherously smiled, enjoying the show and choosing their favorite girl for the night. The Galaxy had long established the stereotype of Twi'leks being easy, and these dancers, who deliberately knelt to showcase their appetizing behinds, surely wouldn't refuse to spend the night with one of them for a few extra credits. Of course, these were just the thoughts of the rich, who never entertained the idea of rejection.

However, they would have to patiently wait their turn to satiate themselves with the beauties' flesh. In the hall was someone before whom they had to grovel and submit entirely. The businesses of many of them directly depended on the mood of the King of the Criminal World. A single word from him would be enough not only to crush one of the guests into dust but to completely ruin their life and take away everything they had earned… including their family. Free labor on Tatooine was always in demand.

The enormous slug disgustingly licked what could either be his lower lip or his chin. He surpassed everyone present in size, and in terms of fat and grease, he outdid many sentient species in the Galaxy. Just the sight of him made Sev'rance's stomach churn, while her palms still felt the residual touch of her cold metal lightsaber. She wondered how much fat would pour out if she sliced through the folds of his skin and hung him over a pit. The bloodthirstiness inherent in all followers of the Dark Side of the Force still lived in her heart, but now she kept it under control. Her strategic genius could no longer be clouded by Dark Emanations. At least for now.

How had she managed it? During her apprenticeship under Dooku, Tann had been in perfect control of herself. There wasn't a single task she couldn't handle. Many Jedi had fallen by her hand. Thanks to her great successes, she had not only become prideful but had also come to believe in her chosen status. So, after a couple of years, the girl had planned to challenge her master to a duel and prove her strength to the entire Galaxy by killing the old man and taking his place on the Dark Side. But her plans were not destined to come true, for she had met someone far more powerful than Count Dooku.

Right now, he was sitting carelessly beside her at the bar, watching the provocative and revealing performance of the courtesans. It seemed he had completely forgotten about the original task. So, how had she managed to recover from the painful blow to her pride? After the fight with him, all her thoughts of superiority had shattered into pieces, and she had literally fallen from the heavens to the ground. At first, she had behaved no better than a wild beast, but now she could control her emotions thanks to two factors—her teacher's presence and Fear.

She truly feared the one sitting on the stool next to her. If it were his will, he would annihilate all the visitors of the Hutt's residence in a matter of seconds or break their minds with illusions. It had already been a month since her encounter with this extraordinary Sith Lord, whose philosophy and training methods were radically different from Dooku's program. Did she miss her old mentor? Not at all. Perhaps during night training sessions, she sometimes remembered him, but why would she need an old geezer when she now had Hassan, who was all-knowing in the techniques of the Force that the old man could never even dream of!

Dooku's betrayal had scarred her Sith heart, and her loss to Hassan had brought her down from the heavens to the ground. But now she realized that fortune favored her. Despite the slow pace of learning under Hassan, in the long run, Sev'rance would become far more powerful than she would have been had she completed her training under Dooku. Of course, the final exam in the form of a deadly duel with the Count would have been much easier for her than with Hassan, but it was too early to think about that. After all, she still felt like the Chosen One, for even though the Force had taken one teacher from her, it had brought her to another.

Only with a cool head had she finally understood the truth. The truth was that she was in a winning position as long as the Republic and the CIS didn't come for their heads. In this matter, the latter side might already be taking some steps, while the Jedi were known for their slowness and cowardice. Most likely, it was for this reason that Dooku had sent Sha'a Do to Tatooine, another one of his apprentices, whom she had crossed paths with only a couple of times. On the other hand, the Count wasn't stupid and wouldn't pursue Hassan without a plan. Perhaps Sha'a had come here to gather information or spy in preparation for a more decisive move.

Feeling a Force adept in relative proximity wasn't difficult with proper attention and concentration, but escaping with the obtained information from the grasp of an unknown Sith Lord was much easier for an adept than for a mercenary. Unlike the Jedi, the Sith weren't afraid to use the full power of the Force to swat a spy like a fly. Sha'a would have to be especially careful in gathering information, which she managed quite well, not without the help of CIS funding, or Dooku would lose another one of his followers.

"And when was the last time I had fun?"—the teacher's good-natured voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "Daily visits to the Hutt's residence can hardly be called entertaining, especially when you can't even get properly drunk,"—he tapped his helmet.

"The downside of an ambush,"—the apprentice replied succinctly.

"That's for sure,"—he sighed. "We've been staking this place out for two weeks now, but she hasn't shown up since, and it doesn't look like she will."

In fact, the idea of catching her at the Hutt's residence wasn't a bad one. Jabba ruled the most powerful criminal empire in the entire Galaxy! With his level of influence, he could directly affect the course of the war, so he could well be considered another side in these troubled times. Dooku had long had plans for the Outer Rim, so it wasn't surprising that he had sent his apprentice for negotiations. However, for some reason, she hadn't shown up here again.

"It seems their negotiations failed back then. I thought she'd come to him with a new offer, but she's still nowhere to be seen… Maybe she left the system?"

"Dooku doesn't tolerate refusal,"—Sev'rance said as if it were obvious. "Even if the negotiations failed, he won't just leave the Hutt alone."

The Sith were accustomed to taking whatever they needed. If negotiations didn't work, they wouldn't hesitate to use force. Eventually, the other side would have to submit to the will of the Sith. It was only a matter of time before Dooku found the Hutt's weak spot and pressed on it. Such reasoning gradually led her to the thought that the slug was no longer the only person to be wary of. It was quite possible that Sha'a's meticulous caution was directly related to Hassan.

"I think she's inactive because of you,"—Tann whispered as quietly as possible. "They have no information about you, so it's logical to assume that you might be collaborating with the Hutt."

"Hey, come on,"—Rafael nudged his partner on the shoulder. "Call me 'you' while I'm in this role,"—the teacher awkwardly patted himself on the chestplate.

His statement made Tann uneasy. A chill ran down her spine, and her throat went dry. With a single word, he had knocked her off her pedestal. Some inexplicable feeling now haunted her, and her instincts stubbornly insisted—don't poke the monster's cave too soon. Oh yes, the feeling was comparable to the excitement of a traveler standing before the dark maw of a cave. He didn't know what was inside, but he intuitively understood the danger of the place. If she were to risk going in, she'd need full equipment, which she didn't have yet.

"Yes, of course,"—the girl replied uncertainly. She remembered their agreement, so she deliberately showed respect to the teacher by whispering, so no one else could hear.

"Anyway, you're right. So, what should we do then?"

"It's unlikely Sha'a managed to dig up anything on you. She's probably beside herself with frustration, but right now we control the situation, so we shouldn't rush either,"—her cool head thought ahead, while her wounded heart began to beat faster and faster in anticipation of the upcoming hunt. "First, we should look for information about her in other, reliable sources."

"You mean…"—the interlocutor muttered hesitantly, openly displaying his lack of intelligence and stupidity.

"Olg,"—however, Tann wasn't about to step on the same rake again.

"Exactly!"—the teacher immediately perked up. "Let's go see him and ask how he's doing! No point in wasting time,"—he jumped off the stool. "Let's go!"

His cheerful tone of voice was perfectly complemented by his dancing gait, as if Rafael had just won a million credits in the lottery. His behavior no longer surprised the girl, but she still couldn't shake the feeling of wrongness surrounding the figure of her mentor. During their first training session, he had said that the Dark Side would corrupt her mind and body, so now she wondered how he knew that. Perhaps he had a firsthand example? A teacher? A grandmaster to Sev'rance. She should ask him about it during training.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

In the evening, the anthill of Tatooine looked even more unsightly. Particularly unpleasant and dangerous individuals had come out for a stroll, waiting for their time. The time when the sun would completely disappear below the horizon, and the district would be enveloped in the veil of night. In the twilight, they merely scouted familiar corners, stalking unsuspecting prey unfortunate enough to step into their territory after dark.

Sev'rance wasn't the least bit afraid of them. To her, they were merely a nuisance or bugs begging to be squashed. A small group of sentients watching them with attentive eyes. Duros and Gran, menacingly cleaning their rifles at the edge of the intersection. They were nothing compared to the Might of the Dark Side! Those rifles were just the fangs of a beast, while Tann had the patronage of the Galaxy itself! None of them, including the stranger walking towards them, clad in full armor with a helmet and a blaster in his holster, posed any danger to them…

"—!.."—Sev'rance froze in shock as the mercenary passed by them.

"What's wrong?"—Rafael turned around, asking when he stopped hearing her footsteps behind him.

"Nothing…"—she replied after a pause, shaking her head. "Let's go."

A couple of minutes later, they reached the very house where, at the beginning of the month, they had met the swindler Olg and his dim-witted friend Rune. Surprisingly, this time they were greeted by a new working door, which obediently slid aside when the girl ran her hand over the sensor panel. But the interior hadn't changed at all. It was just as dirty and cluttered with junk as before, as if the owners were used to living in chaos.

"Rune, I already told you there's no point in buying your own bed!"—Olg's voice could be heard from outside. "We'll save up enough money soon and move to a new place! Just be patient, we only need a little more."

Apparently, the Rodian had grown tired of living in the slums. It was one thing to be born in the gutter and quite another to move here from the upper districts. No wonder he, knowing what a normal house—and especially a bathroom—was like, strived to return to a more favorable area. Since he had paid off his debt to the Hutt, the invisible noose around his neck was gone, so the bankrupt entrepreneur would undoubtedly try to start a new business. That's just how businessmen were. The taste of money would never let go of those who had immersed themselves in it.

"Hey, guys!"

"Hutt!"—the Rodian shouted in fright, jumping in place. "Don't you know how to knock?!"—he turned to face the guests, angrily pointing his finger at them.

"Sorry, sorry,"—the mercenaries entered the shack, not forgetting to close the door behind them. "How's it going?"

"Enough with the pleasantries, Rafael,"—Olg waved his hand dismissively, trying to appear in control. "Why are you here?"—while Rune sadly slumped, dreaming of a proper bed.

"They say Count Dooku's apprentice has arrived on Tatooine,"—Raf got straight to the point. "A blue-skinned Twi'lek girl. We need her. Do you know where she might be?"

"Honestly,"—the Rodian scratched the back of his head, "I don't have much information on her. But I do have something interesting. I'll sell this information to you for fifteen hundred credits!"—so that's how he was saving money now.

"You've forgotten your place, scum!"—Tann couldn't help but explode in rage. "Who do you think risked their necks to pull you out of the Hutt's ass, where you got yourself stuck?!"—Raf noted with shock the brilliant mercenary speech of his apprentice. "Or should I refresh your fishy memory with a blaster!"—the girl instantly drew her weapon, then shot… a glare at the big guy, completely demoralizing him. The poor guy even crossed his legs in fear to protect his most precious part.

"Alright! Alright!"—Olg shouted in fear, cowardly raising his hands. "Hutt take you, fine! Please, put the blaster away! I was just joking!"—maybe he was joking, but the greedy trader still wanted to make a profit.

"Don't test my patience, bug-eyes,"—Cheesecake hissed through her teeth, lowering but not holstering her blaster.

"Oh…"—the informant sighed heavily, sitting down on a chair near the round dining table. "Some mercenary came by about ten minutes ago and was asking not about her, but about some Sith Lord. Maybe she's with him. You're not the only ones looking for Sith, but I can definitely say that Dooku's apprentice hasn't left Tatooine. That's all I can say…"

Olg fearfully closed his eyes, preparing for another scathing tirade from the girl. Rune moved away from the fury, and even her partner stepped closer to the wall, afraid of getting caught in the crossfire. But… Cheesecake just froze. The Rodian timidly opened one eye and saw his partner stunned by something, then looked questioningly at Rune, who also had no idea what to think. Then they both looked at Rafael in confusion, urging him to act. What? It wasn't their job to worry about the nasty snake, was it?

"Uh. Cheesecake, everything okay?"—he asked cautiously.

"We saw him when we were coming here,"—the girl crossed her arms under her chest. "I recognized his blaster immediately, the one I modified. It was my ex."

"WHAT?!"—the house shook from the force of the two men's shocked screams.