Chapter 15: I’m a Mechanical Man

Y947/M1/D6 ARR -/- 43 BBY -/- Month 12 after Insertion

It's been about a week (which is five standard days, as I've learned) since I woke up in a very distinct hospital room on Mandalore. Of course, by now, I had gotten back to work on my studies for engineering. Mereel had been visiting regularly, while HK was busy keeping an eye out for assassins. The Naboo volunteer staff have been under close watch, but they're competent and brought over a lot of equipment the Mandalore system simply doesn't have. I've learned from them that King Veruna's underworld connections have been torn up root and stem, and the Black Sun no longer has a presence on their homeworld. I remain somewhat unconvinced, as the Black Sun are pretty high up there on the Roach Index.

What is the Roach Index, you might ask? The more annoying and frustrating an individual is, the harder they are to squash. I consider it a form of plot armor, wherein an antagonist will survive long enough to give everyone headaches. Palpatine in the original timeline was probably on the highest level of the Roach Index, because he simply would not die, and his schemes got ever more cartoonishly overcomplicated and frustrating. Hopefully, Palpatine dying this early means Banite manipulations will be minimized in this war, for good or ill. Well, if he's actually dead. Refer to his original position on the Roach Index, after all. Plagueis, on the other hand, may have contingencies I'm not aware of. I didn't read much media on the character, so him dying early was a pleasant surprise, and with surprisingly little collateral since Palps, ironically, killed him.

As for my current predicament, I'm consulting with both Mandalorian and Naboo medical staff, and the headbutting between the two parties is goddamned hilarious. The Mandalorians are for pure rugged functionality with a side-order of fancy gadgets or hidden weapons, while the Naboo want my prosthetics to be as visually unobtrusive as possible. I'm currently working with a temporary set, aside from the bits that replaced chunks of my gut and spine, to help me get used to my different center of balance and all that jazz.

As for my studies, I've cobbled together a rough blueprint for a new class of ship, based on the hammerheads.

A battlecruiser with a pair of spinal-mounted railguns (Think over-under shotgun), built to fire off a volley at range before closing in. The principle idea is a quick and vicious light capital ship that can be droid-operated, and can be quick to manufacture.

I also cobbled together a similar design for the smaller cruiser class, with only one spinal-mounted railgun.

Both classes would be very modular, but generally designed to be simple to manufacture, have good firing arcs for it's secondary and tertiary batteries due to a geometric shape (Think something like the Marathon-class for the overall shape of the ship, aside from the front 'crest' being yanked broadly off of the Hammerhead cruisers), and not wasting space on excessive fighter wings or gargantuan marine contingents. Ideally, each of these would only need like 10-15 people to operate for a shift to minimize crew requirements, while the less important systems can be automated. A mix of Ion cannons, turbolasers, quad laser cannons (No trench run disease for my designs, thanks!), and railgun batteries would allow either class to engage pretty much anything within a certain envelope.

Of course, the modular construction would allow for refits to admit massive fighter contingents or missile batteries, but the goal would be to make sure it's not a 'do everything' platform. That's the main gripe I have with most capital ships in this galaxy; they divert too much attention between mission goals and end up with a frankenboat that doesn't do anything particularly well.

I also have plans to follow this design scheme down to a corvette size, specifically because it's practical. It'd also confuse enemy warbook reference by all looking the same from a distance, which would be pretty fun to watch. I have no plans to dip into dreadnoughts, however, on account of those being horribly impractical in terms of anything but a massive push or as a system defense boat for a sufficiently large shipyard. Smaller, quicker ship designs will allow the CIS to benefit from their smaller logistical footprint, and if they follow my guidelines for in-field refining and manufacturing? Then we might end up with Command and Conquer levels of bullshit rapid production for everything we'd need.

The designs I've made are… primitive in practical design, but the initial drafts have already caught the interest of MandalMotors and similar companies out here on the rim. I've also been considering designs for transports, gunships, and starfighters, but I'm not familiar enough with starship engineering to know whether I'm onto something just yet. Hovertanks based on the M4 Sherman might be fun, though.

Anyways, after a few days having to listen to the back-and-forth between the Naboo and Mandalorian techs, I put my metaphorical foot down and suggest a compromise; modular, heavily customizable frame and armored plating, with a synthskin layer over the top to make it look more natural. They both jumped on that idea like starving men. Within a few days, my new and more permanent limbs were available for testing, and they performed admirably. The touch sensors were just a little numb, though, but honestly, that's something of an improvement.

Beyond that, I could also disable pain simulation from the synthskin if I need to, and with a button's push, I can peel off the synthskin like an elbow-length glove if I need to access the internals. Of course, that made visitors a little queasy, which was an extra bonus. My eye, however, was a flat upgrade. See, before I was almost quite literally half-blind due to some congenital defect. Now? Now I could use this thing to pull a Predator and check most spectrums of light, as well as a heat-sensitive mode, and I could modify most helmet HUDs for compatibility.

Turns out, this was a fairly standard option amongst True Mandalorians who've lost an eye or two. Of course, I'll need to get some training so I could defend myself more effectively from a more standard attacker. Marksmanship, hand-to-hand, etcetera. I also need to get some consultation on personal body armor, because I do plan on being more active in the field for smaller gigs.

All in all, aside from the agonizing pain from being half-incinerated, I got a good deal out of it. Thanks, Palps, I'll piss on your grave later.

I've also learned that HK-47 has begun development on a version of the Halo trilogy that's more 'authentic', which means incredible gore and the like. I have no plans to play that version, however, and I figure that would cause some controversy my company doesn't quite need right now. It's already enough that some folks from the mid and outer rim are complaining about the humanocentrist content of the first two games, though most of the complaining parties only played CE and lack the context the later two games provide. Still, it's netting us a lot of credits, enough so that we've had to license production to third parties. As a result, however, my little gaggle of people can live comfortably for the foreseeable future without needing to do specific work.

Jaster, however, has decided today's the day that we sit down and discuss precisely what I know and how I know. Jaster's already scheduled it, and I've cleared a hole in my own schedule to accommodate. The old Mandalorian warrior finally shows up, and has a seat.

"So. How much did you know?"

"Not quite enough to be omniscient on the matter, but enough to know that the Death Watch had an engineered purpose as a puppet, accidental or otherwise. Palpatine and Damask were both Sith Lords, Palps being the student and Damask the master. "

"I thought the Sith were extinct. I suppose that wouldn't be the first time the Jedi were wrong about something." Jaster looks thoughtful.

I continue. "Dunno if they're properly dead, but considering their entire power base is burning down right now, they're low on the priority list. As for how the original timeline would have gone; Jaster, you would have died in that ambush, Jango would end up leading, then the Death Watch would have played the Jedi and your Mandalorians against one another in a disastrous fight on Galidraan. Jango would have been sold into slavery, then got his revenge on Viszla, before eventually serving as a template for a clone army from Kamino. "

Jaster looks horrified. "You're certain?"

I nod. "When we get around to a Movie Night, I'll show you."

He frowns, and I continue.

"The Jedi, on the other hand, would have suffered a new doctrinal schism, and Count Dooku of Serenno would have gone his own way after participating in Galidraan, eventually falling and becoming Palp's apprentice. The clone wars then eventually kick off, starting with a pre-emptive strike on Geonosis, and would end with the clones wiping out the Jedi wholesale, and a so-called 'chosen one' ends up replacing Dooku as Palpatine's apprentice, resulting in a successful coup for complete control of the Republic by Palpatine, and his new empire reigning over the known galaxy for a good thirty to forty years before a rebellion brings it down. Yes, it's all rather improbable, but the Banite sith had been planning this rough idea for centuries."

"And you, by simply stepping in and doing what you can, destabilized this whole plot?" Jaster looks confused.

"And by apparently annoying Palpatine into having a paranoid episode that led him to kill his master and go on the run. That was purely accidental, and also means the coming war will be much, much messier without the influence of the Sith." I chuckle.

"What do you mean, messier?"

"Palpatine pumped the brakes on occasion to minimize the damage done by the original Clone Wars so his Empire could function. He drew out the war, made most of the high command of both sides hilariously incompetent through a variety of means, and basically crippled military doctrine so he could have a firm hand on both sides, and when all was said and done, he leapt for the ending that left him with the most control. Without Sith influence, it will be a wholly honest war in terms of casus belli and resources available."

He frowns.

"Thankfully, I've been stacking the deck for your side, Jaster. The Jedi, once I talk to them again, will remain neutral, and help minimize the collateral, which means most of the Republic's military structure will be, at most, experienced pirate-hunters in command of unfamiliar warships. You've had the time to familiarize yourselves with proper warships and can build them yourself. I'd suggest heavier investment in droids, and do try to be nice to them; most are sapient, given time. I'd also suggest maintaining friendly relationships with Naboo; they'll have a rough go of it due to their pacifism and them sitting on a lot of important wartime resources, but if you can push them to be a bit more militant and align with you, they'll be a worthwhile ally. The war will still probably stalemate, but you'll be recognized as an independent nation, and you'll be considerably more prepared for when the fucking Vong show up."

"The Vong?"

"Yuuzhan Vong. They're a race that focuses exclusively on biotechnology. They hate 'traditional' technology like how we use it, and are genocidal maniacs with a propensity for infiltration and biological WMDs. In the original timeline, they took Coruscant from a very militant New Republic and infested it with bioforms, and held Coruscant. The Bothans declared a state of genocidal war against the Vong. That's how much of a threat these fuckers are. Their first scouts are due to arrive sooner or later, but their full invasion force is about seventy years out, assuming I haven't butterflied that away." I sigh. "The Yuuzhan Vong are an existential threat to this galaxy, and I cannot in good conscience allow you to go unprepared. Droids and ballistics will be key in that war, which is why I've been pushing for the heavy implementation of both."

Jaster sighs, rubbing his forehead. "Way to make me feel appreciated, kid, even if I'll be dead by then. Still, your information hasn't led us wrong just yet, even if you miss details. Damnit."

I look at him, deadly serious. "Jango will make an excellent successor to the title of Mandalore, given time. The unaltered clone that he had as a son in the original timeline led Mandalore to a new period of prosperity before, during, and after the Yuuzhan Vong invasion. Do your best to turn him into the best person he can be, and Mandalore will survive the coming shitstorms."

He nods. "Which changes nothing, aside from giving me an idea of what my legacy will look like. Thank you, Hatton. Now go the fuck back to bed, so I don't have to worry about your health."

I chuckle, laying back down. "By the way, I do have some ideas for force composition when we're not busy. Have a nice evening, Jaster."

He leaves, clearly thoughtful.

- - - - 3 days later - - - -

After a while, I felt stifled by being trapped in convalescent leave from running my fleet. Thankfully, my presence at Kalee was no longer necessary and my fleet had been sticking around Mandalore, making this place the hardest target in the galaxy, next to some Core Worlds.

I order the Gunboat Diplomat to deliver the artifact I had taken from Charal to Dathomir.

I also take the time to record a message to the Nightsisters and various other clans I could dig up names for, namely that I would be willing to take their exiles so they might no longer tax their resources, and that I would be willing to establish trade with them for resources they might want. I also put in a note that Kycina of the Nightsisters is someone I'd be interested in meeting with, and perhaps they could establish her as their representative to the broader galaxy. I also note that I would be willing to sell to them any documents, texts, etcetera related to Force usage I might come across that the Jedi don't purchase from me or otherwise beat me to, as well as contribute my services to looking for lost artifacts belonging to the various clans of Dathomir. My droids can reside in orbit indefinitely until they come to a decision.

Charal, of course, has been consulting me on Nightsister culture when she's had time away from learning how to fix and operate things, and the rate at which she's picking it up is impressive. Her advice in regards to how to handle this message to the various tribes has been very useful; letting them take the initiative and giving them all the time they need to think on the matter, while also establishing my strength subtly means they'll probably keep this a very honest transaction. They probably wouldn't be particularly interested in an ongoing 'relationship', but having an opportunity to be rid of the fringe elements in their society will be something they'll leap at with both hands.

I then began planning a course for Rhen Var, as it is a location I'd consider ideal for establishing a headquarters. It's cold, which I like, it's full of Force artifacts and history, which will be useful for business with most Orders I'll have to interact with, it's got a lot of established infrastructure I can reconstruct, and there's a Republic scout base here that may or may not be active. I put forward a message to the Jedi Council (which also includes the original and prequel trilogies for their viewing pleasure) that I'd like to acquire a territory on Rhen Var, as it appears the place is a historical site that I'd like to study and perhaps establish myself on. I also mention that if there's any Jedi landholds they'd like to be restored there, I'd be willing to work with them on such a project. Afterwards, I called down a shuttle and boarded my flagship, then purchased a lot of survey equipment and prefabricated base components from the orbital facilities on Mandalore, as well as some droids that would be helpful for such a task.

Once aboard, I track down HK-47, who is apparently doing programming for that Halo project of his. "HK, I've got a task for you that will take you down memory lane."

"Query: Truly? I was almost convinced you'd have me attached to your hip in a nearly literal fashion after that particularly sloppy assassination attempt. Where might you be sending me?"

"Dromund Kaas. I want to figure out where the Ebon Hawk ended up, and to my knowledge, that Sith world is it's final resting place. I also want to see where T3-M4 ended up, because you two made for an iconic duo."

"Indignation: That warbling little trash compactor? Am I cursed to deal with that accursed little trash can for the rest of my potentially limitless life?"

"He's called a trash can, not a trash cannot. He has a useful skill set I'd like to acquire, and you two were a complementary look, and you're already surrounded with T3 units, anyway, so what's one more?"

"Observation: It appears I have been socially outmaneuvered. I shall have to do better next time."

"Look on the bright side; you'll have someone else to hate passionately that's aware of your history. Also, you'll have operational freedom with the No Such Thing as Free to acquire any worthwhile artifacts and shoot any Sith cultists or critters that get in your way."

"Declaration: What a wonderful bribe, master! I shall enjoy this vacation." He promptly leaves to acquire a shuttle. I chuckle, and head off to the bridge.

Finally, I begin the long, arduous process of figuring out where the fuck Irkalla is so I can get the oldest living force user in galactic history on my side. If I can figure out where Xendor was buried, I could potentially revive him, too, assuming Lyn wouldn't be opposed to me digging through Palp's playbook. Personally, though, I think Xendor already passed on to the other side. I don't think there's been a single instance, aside from some early Sith rumors, that his Force Ghost has been kicking around.

Beyond that, I've since learned the Iron Knights have left to go be helpful elsewhere, primarily dealing with smaller problems like small pirate gangs. Of course, they seem to have picked up on my 'no kill quite like overkill' methodology, so they've been sticking together as a group. I toss them a message regarding what I remember about the Tsil and the situation on Nam Chorios, and that it'd be wise for biological members of the group to stay offworld. I also note that there's a force-sensitive Hutt on the planet styling himself as a warlord, though I'm unsure of how well-trained or amiable he is with Jedi of any stripe. I've also sent the Jedi order a message to go unfuck the Valley of the Jedi since the Sith are no longer a problem, as well as consider doing some reconstruction of the biosphere so the Republic has another green world, as well as the old navigation data that will help them figure out how the hell to get there again, plus the full prequel trilogy in a compressed and encrypted file.

- - - - 3 days later - - - -

I had gotten a message back from the Council, who had gotten around to having 'movie night' with the various orders they could convince to chat. Apparently, they were very glad that these events did not come to pass, so they unanimously gave me essentially free reign to do whatever I'd like with Rhen Var, aside from stipulating that I am to avoid cracking open crypts and the like, and if I must do so, the remains found within are to be reburied appropriately in a location that won't be used, and that the various Jedi orders will take possession of any force artifacts or holocrons I might find. I agreed with those terms, so they sent me the rough location I'm allowed to take over; a location I recognize from the original Battlefront titles: Rhen Var Harbor and Citadel, both being within a few miles of each other. Apparently, the whole region was one big ancient city that was under the protection of a smaller Jedi order akin to the Corellian order, serving as a gateway fortress against the interests of the Tionese.

The place was abandoned shortly into Xim the Despot's invasion, as Xim had apparently towed a bunch of asteroids full of ice and gas into orbit and let them fall, causing a rapid ice age and forcing a full-scale evacuation he could pillage and raid at a whim. Several attempts since had been made to recolonize the place, but it proved an unpopular option compared to less-ruined systems from the time. The Jedi more-or-less still own the planet as custodians, due to it being a historical site of little importance.

At any rate, my droids had begun winterizing themselves in preparation of setting up shop on Rhen Var, and I begin planning the construction efforts, as well as consulting documentation in the hopes of preserving the original architectural style of the unnamed city in question. The listening post, however, will be consulting with me during this process.

Step 1: Turn the abandoned lighthouse-towers into a proper communications hub and secure landing area for up to six light freighters.

Step 2: Turn the Citadel into a proper command center, digging up all the ruined stone down to a usable foundation.

Step 3: Install heating systems throughout the area, running on redundant generator systems.

Step 4: Turn the upper levels immediately surrounding the citadel into greenhouses for plants that can grow in colder environments.

Step 5: Create a hydrogen power plant that uses the cold to keep things safe, while also heating the region.

Step 6: Build a space station that can repair anything of cruiser weight or smaller, as well as moderate entry into the area and serve as a front line for mining the asteroids in the system.

Step 7: Begin mining for Solari crystals, among other resources, to sell or use.

Step 8: Profit immensely.

I also begin considering the potential to hire a security force of Mandalorians that can use my facilities to train for harsh environments, as well as supplement my droids to keep things safe on this planet, though I'll probably hold off on that until I get established.

- - - -

Honestly, I had zero plans to go down there and freeze my ass off looking pretty while the droids begin renovations. Thankfully, they understand how to properly handle multi-thousand-year-old corpses, and they're also taking the time to write down names and dates for each corpse off of their tomb, where possible.

Aside from the occasional wampa attack (since apparently black market folks moved a sustainable population to this frozen shithole alongside some other cold-weather critters like tauntauns, presumably to entertain illegal hunters), things were going smoothly. The folks who were stationed here were glad to be out of the cold and have access to much fresher food, even if it's the unholy-spicy shit that Jaster snuck a few pallets of into my holds.

Turns out, the Republic put fuck-all into budget for this listening post; their heaters were barely sufficient, their operating base made a light freighter's crew compartments feel spacious, and they were stuck with broadly flavorless rations that'll keep until the heat death of the universe, the sorry bastards. I gave them essentially unlimited access to everything they needed to relax, though they were restricted from the bridge and other mechanically-important sections of the ship.

Beyond my everlasting hatred for penny-pinching assholes that persist between realities, apparently, everything was going alright, right up until it wasn't. One of my dear HK-51s had elected to shatter the moment by announcing unscheduled guests.

"Declaration: A small fleet of ships have transitioned out of hyperspace."

"Tell me their composition."

"Answer: Heaviest ship class among them is a Warlord-class Light Cruiser, followed by a quartet of CR-90 Corvettes. I am also detecting roughly four squadrons of Z-95 headhunters. All ships appear to be heavily modified."

Interesting. They're looking for a fight, I think.

"Hail them, I want to see what these idiots are doing. Who the hell goes out of their way to this frozen rock of a system in the ass end of the galaxy, ready to pick a damned fight with a functioning battlefleet?"

I peer closer at the holographic display of the ships in question. I don't recognize those insignia, and I don't recall ever seeing such a distinctive class of what is essentially a plus-sized corvette.

After a few moments, my droid assistant finally establishes a connection to the distant fleet.

"Unidentified fleet, you are within restricted space. State your intentions or leave."

I get a near-immediate response, and a hologram of a… Ugor? The hell are slime-people doing here?

The single-celled creature crammed into a space suit makes disturbing noises for a few moments, before the HK-51 pipes in.

"Translation: The Ugor identifies itself as Tax Chaplain … ArrGack, and wishes for you to surrender our …glorious, trash-ridden ships to it."

"...Are you joking? Is that Ugor joking, HK-51?"

It makes more agitated noises, and the HK translates. "Answer: It appears quite serious about the matter."

I rub my face. "...Always the weird shit. Alright. I'll give you props for the ballsiness of this move, but dear lord, you've miscalculated your chances at fighting the FSB fleet. You have the count of ten to start leaving, or I start-"

"Warning: Radiological material detected! They're shooting nuclear missiles at us!"

"Of course they fucking are. Shoot the bastards!"

- - - - - -

Author's note: I was having trouble figuring out what the hell I was gonna do this chapter, and decided "fuck it", and pulled out an old-ass D100 chart I had made for my tabletop game. I rolled a 100, and now I feel that this show's gonna go off the rails, since that was a wacky pirate fleet of Ugor 'tax' agents adapted from the old-as-balls D6 West End Games manuals (though I had rewritten the broader Ugor society, because reasons). Also, the Y/M/D ARR thing is my attempt at making a formalized date structure from what scant materials are available on the topic. Year/Month/Day is obvious, but ARR is After Ruusan Reformations. Most of the other 'starting' date systems run off of a really unintuitive decimal point thing I couldn't make heads or tails of, and BBY gets a little tiresome after a while when Yavin as it happened in the original Trilogy won't be happening in this timeline, so here we are.

Yay for fucking uncooperative muses.