Star Wars: Darth Hassan

"No,"—the Chiss looked at the bounty hunters with determined red eyes, "but now I'll help you find her."

A bewildered silence hung in the air. Vandalo poured himself another drink, glanced at the contents of the glass, and downed it in one go. Rafael, either pretending or genuinely not understanding what was happening, looked at her, then at the second Chiss. Indeed, such a turn of events could throw anyone off balance. Just a couple of minutes ago, they had burst into his hideout and conducted an intense interrogation, and now the interrogated man with a gloomy blue face was indulging in alcohol, offering his services.

"What? Why would you help us?!"—Raf asked in shock. "We're like enemies!"

"I've been stuck on Tatooine for who knows how long,"—the mercenary downed another glass of questionable liquid, "but I haven't found a single lead about the second Sith Lord, who might as well not exist. And now you show up looking for Sha'a, who wields a yellow lightsaber. Maybe I've been chasing the wrong thing all along..."

Sev'rance chuckled under her helmet. Of course, he hadn't found a single lead about them. Darth Hassan hadn't just gone underground—the Sith Lord had literally transformed into a completely different person. And as strange as it might sound, you could say Vandalo had found his target, or rather, the target had come to him on a silver platter, but he had fallen for the masterful manipulations of the powerful masked man. As long as the mercenary Rafael roamed the dusty sands of the planet, the Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Hassan, wouldn't show himself without a good reason.

"I don't know if this Sith Lord exists or not,"—Vandalo looked at the uninvited guests with determination in his eyes, "but now I need to get to Sha'a. Our goals align, so why not team up? Together, we'll definitely be able to find her."

"Well..."—Raf hesitated, looking at his partner.

Vandalo was undoubtedly saying logical things, but at the same time, he was being evasive. He wasn't in the best position, aside from being formally captured. First, the Chiss was acting on his own, without the support of the Separatists, which significantly limited his options. Second, hunting a Dark Side adept was dangerous, and hunting a master—even more so, which was why Vandalo had been trying to be as careful as possible, just like Sha'a. Since he had largely stopped believing in Hassan's existence thanks to the casual or deliberate mention of the yellow saber, his new target had become Sha'a Donita. The Twi'lek posed a lesser threat compared to the Sith Lord.

"Suppose we agree..."

"Cheesecake, are you serious right now?"—Raf asked, baffled.

"Trust me,"—she wasn't sure if the teacher was still playing his role or if he was genuinely surprised. In any case, it wouldn't hurt to be more accommodating, "please."

In reality, the two of them could handle things just fine on their own, but it wouldn't hurt to keep Vandalo in mind.

Vandalo was a skilled mercenary who had taught Sev'rance a lot. If they wrote him off now, he could easily become a threat to them in the future. Of course, the easiest thing to do would be to kill the Chiss right now, but without the approval of her unpredictable teacher, she wouldn't dare take such a step. He had protected a Jedi, the sworn enemy of the Sith, so she had no idea how Hassan would react to his death.

Moreover, her tough life had taught her one of the universe's most important rules: keep your friends close and your enemies closer. As long as Vandalo was useful to them, they would use him.

"Alright, alright,"—he spread his hands, completely shifting the negotiations onto her shoulders.

"Smart move,"—Vandalo chuckled now, "with three of us, we have a much better chance of dealing with Sha'a."

Sha'a was just Dooku's apprentice, but she still wielded the Force. And unlike the soft-hearted Jedi, she wouldn't hesitate to use all her abilities to their fullest. From Vandalo's perspective, he was increasing his chances of success, while from Sev'rance's perspective, Donita posed no threat to her. However, if the teacher wanted to keep up his act until the end with his disguise, then there was a tiny chance they could lose.

"You wouldn't offer to cooperate if you didn't have a plan,"—even though Vandalo was now an ally, Cheesecake lowered her blaster but didn't rush to put it away.

"Hunting a Jedi or a Sith is no different,"—the guy replied somewhat sadly. "Either snipe them from a distance or blow them up."

"Exactly as he said. Thanks to the Force, its adepts can sense danger in the form of blaster shots or lightsaber strikes. Blocking shots is much easier for them, so a frontal attack, while possible, clearly wouldn't give the mercenaries the upper hand. Moreover, lightsabers can deflect shots back at them, which would only worsen an already difficult situation. That's why long-range and precise weapons are essential when hunting Force users. A sudden, lightning-fast shot from a rifle could easily take the life of an unsuspecting Jedi or Sith."

"The second option is more reliable than the first. A long-range shot from a rifle requires skill from the mercenary, but with a rocket launcher, you don't even need to aim precisely—just catch the enemy's back in the crosshairs. Dodging an explosion is much harder, and if a rifle shot misses, the mission fails, but an explosion never disappoints. Did the target dodge or did the rocket miss? No problem! The Jedi can still be taken out by the shockwave."

"That's obvious,"—Tann said this both as a mercenary and as a Sith. "But how do we find her?"

"We can lure her out and at the same time find out if the second Sith Lord exists,"—Vandalo paused at the most interesting part.

"Of course, he's definitely trying to make himself valuable."

"Just spit it out already,"—Raf was impatient to hear his plan.

"We'll spread rumors about a meeting between Hutt agents and the Sith Lord."

"Too dangerous to drag the slug into this,"—Cheesecake reasonably pointed out.

"It would be, if the Sith Lord actually existed. The Confederacy has its agents on Tatooine, and since the information about him hasn't been confirmed yet, it means even the Hutt couldn't find him."

"The information about Hassan has long been confirmed. His existence was confirmed by Shaak Ti's rescue on the Republic's side, as well as the death of Sev'rance Tann for the Separatists. The appearance of another Sith Lord is a huge shock for both sides, so it's no surprise that they're doing everything possible to minimize the leak of information. The less Hassan appears on the galactic stage, the faster random witnesses will forget about him—it's all too simple."

"I disagree, using Jabba's name is too risky. It's better to choose someone else."

"Not only Sha'a could fall for the bait, but also Hutt's spies. The slug's ears, if he has any, will undoubtedly catch wind of the fake meeting. In the end, not only Donita but also Jabba's lackeys could fall into the trap, which we'd like to avoid. Picking a fight with the main crime boss of the entire system is like shooting yourself in the foot. Maybe it's a good plan for Vandalo, but for them, for the real Hassan and his apprentice, it's a terrible idea."

"Well, fine. What do you suggest?"—the Chiss said mockingly, downing another glass of alcohol. Yeah, he seemed to have developed a taste for alcohol, though he used to be more reserved about drinking. Could her death really have been that painful for him?

"Replace the Hutt with an informant,"—the girl deliberately decided not to reveal Olg's name again. "And one of us will pretend to be his agent."

"Well, if you trust this informant, then let him spread the rumors—it'll be easier,"—Vandalo looked at her as if she were suicidal.

"Not just easier. It's a foolproof plan. Initially, the Chiss planned to use Hutt's people, but in Sev'rance's case, extra witnesses would only get in the way. For the best scenario with Sha'a, at least Hassan should meet her, as he would decide her fate, which is why this whole mess started in the first place. A face-to-face meeting with a hostile Sith is pure suicide—Tann perfectly understands why he looked at her so eloquently. He just doesn't know that the one standing next to him is someone even Dooku should fear."

"We'll also need a ship, which will have to be rigged with explosives—one of you will have to lure her there,"—Vandalo initially decided to stick with the explosion tactic.

"The plan itself isn't bad. The ship will serve as a mousetrap from which Donita definitely won't be able to escape, and if she tries, pressing one button will end all her efforts. Once on the ship, she won't be able to escape... Just like the bait. The Twi'lek could easily take Rafael hostage... For some reason, Tann found this thought amusing. The complexity of the venture lies in the planning stage. Sev'rance would have to somehow convince Raf to be the bait, but at the same time, she's terrified of provoking his anger, because in a couple of hours, he could give her such a beating that all of Dooku's punishments would seem like child's play."

"I'll go,"—the girl volunteered.

"No-no-no!"—Rafael spoke up. "I'll go! I'm not great in a fight, so at least this way I'll be of some use,"—he was way too casual about his role.

"Raf, it's dangerous,"—not that it was actually dangerous for him. She was just playing her part.

"Relax, Cheesecake,"—the guy waved his hand carelessly. "I'll handle it! Have a little faith in your partner!"—and for emphasis, he thumped his chest.

"This is all very cute,"—Vandalo interrupted the team's idyllic moment, "but there's one last point—the location of the ambush.

I suggest the Red Chain Canyon."

"Good choice,"—Sev'rance nodded.

"What's that place?"—the Chiss looked at Raf like he was an idiot.

"The Red Chain is a canyon divided into two parts right down the middle. Due to the position of the walls, sunlight almost never reaches the base of the intersection. It's too obvious a hiding spot, so no one stays there for long,"—Tann patiently explained everything to her partner.

"Ahhh,"—he drawled in understanding. "An obvious spot! We're like outplaying their outplaying, right? Ha-ha,"—Raf chuckled lightly.

"..."—Vandalo could only shake his head, refilling his glass with alcohol. In his eyes, Cheesecake looked like a seasoned mercenary, while Rafael seemed like he had just been weaned off his mother's milk. He had never seen such a green and inexperienced bounty hunter before. "Our plan reeks of a trap, but she won't have any choice but to fall into it."

"The Separatists need information about Hassan. Dooku needs information about him. Surely, the Count's agents are already trying to infiltrate the Jedi Temple to get even a scrap of data. So Sha'a will have no choice but to walk into the trap voluntarily, because at the moment, it's the only opportunity to dig up anything about him. Vandalo is completely right—she has no choice. The choice has already been made for her by Dooku."

"I'll handle the explosives, and you take care of the ship."

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

At any time of day, the cantina, especially on Tatooine, has its own special, dangerous atmosphere. Unlike bars on other, more civilized planets, the local bars are always filled with hardened scoundrels, bloodthirsty thugs, wannabe gamblers, and other very, very shady characters. All the patrons are armed with at least one blaster, making the overall atmosphere even more tense. Although the tension quickly fades after the first shot of strong liquor!

One such shot landed neatly on a small round table located in the back of the hall. A man in a worn-out jumpsuit stained with machine oil downed the alcoholic drink in one go, which hit him hard. His neighbor, a Rodian, just as decisively grabbed his own drink and, without hesitation, poured it down his throat.

His throat burned while his tongue savored the sweet taste of fruit. It was the most popular drink, combining a sweet flavor for the more delicate patrons and the strength of alcohol for the more seasoned drinkers.

"Kha-a-a-a!"—Olg exhaled contentedly, placing his glass on the table. "That hit the spot!"

"Tell me about it!"—his drinking buddy cheerfully agreed, actively pouring another round. "It's been a while since we drank like this..."

"That's for sure, Dais, I remember..."

"Stop-stop-stop, spare me your long memories, at least until I'm completely wasted,"—he, more than anyone, knew about the Rodian's long tongue. "Better tell me something interesting."

"What's there to tell..."—the informant took his glass and quickly emptied it. "Kha-a-a-a-a... Oh yeah..."

"Ahem... Ugh!"—after the second round, Dais wasn't in a hurry to pour a third.

"Oh, by the way, have you heard about the Dark Lord of the Sith?"

"No..."—the man licked the remnants of the cocktail from his lips. "Well, it's something to do with the Jedi. I'm not well-versed in that."

"Tsk,"—Olg clicked his tongue disapprovingly, "we've got a war going on, and you don't know anything."

"I'm just a ship dealer, what do I know about war?"

"Still,"—the Rodian leaned forward, "a Sith Lord is like a Jedi Master. They're masters of the Force, and they say that such a Sith Lord is going to meet some mercenaries in the Red Chain Canyon soon."

"Red Chain?"—Dais couldn't resist and poured another round for himself and his friend. "That's the dumbest place for negotiations."

"That's exactly the point. It's dumb, but effective,"—the chatterbox looked at the filled glass. "Eh, alright, here goes nothing!"

What's great about bars? Of course, not just the drinks! Cantinas are great places for gathering and spreading rumors, which is exactly what Olg was doing now. He was no stranger to flapping his gums, as his drinking buddy knew all too well, so chatting about gossip was a sacred duty. And it's also important how you talk about it. For example, the Rodian was talking about the Sith Lord quite loudly, so the neighboring tables would inevitably hear the fresh new rumors. That's how information leaks. That's how lies spread. And no one will fully know if what they heard is true or just empty speculation.