Wrath of the Outer Rim : Episode IV

Turning Ryloth into a resort world had been easier than I thought it would be. Not because I had overestimated what it would take to do so, but because when the Trade Federation at large caught wind of my plan, they immediately and eagerly threw themselves into backing me.

I was obviously surprised at first, but it came down to a number of reasonable factors. First, the Directorate knew I had a tendency to turn a profit from unconventional ventures. I always had a train of thought they could follow, even if they wouldn't normally think of it themselves, and even if I didn't, my history spoke for me. Second, the new Directorate was eager for any good PR after Gunray's costly foolishness, especially after seeing how simple goodwill had gotten me a deal from the Naboo no one else could have possibly hoped for. I knew the Republic had originally placed severe penalties and restrictions on the Trade Federation from my old memories, and the Senate was still pushing for that, but with lukewarm support from Naboo at best, many of the measures were being bogged down in typical Senate arguments.

Third, the idea of capitalizing on the Twi'leks' galaxy wide reputation as "entertainers" dovetailed very tightly with traditional Neimoidian merchantilism. By building the resorts on Ryloth, the resorts would essentially be monopolizing the "supply" of Twi'leks. Of course, I had pushed against an initial proposal for the Trade Federation to outright own the resorts. As I had told the Directorate, Ryloth had been more less controlled from the shadows by the Hutts for millennia. The Twi'leks knew damn well what malicious economic pressure looked like. Our ideal scenario was for Ryloth to be economically independent thanks to us. After all, Ryloth was dependent on imports for most goods, and couldn't support any industry unless they were willing to import raw materials. No natural resources. And they would need imports, no matter what direction they chose. The hutts would not let one of their biggest souces of slaves go quietly. Ryloth would need weapons.

So, with the backing of the Federation, I entered talks with Ryloth's planetary government, as well as several notables I had singled out as being business savvy to make the plan work. Ryloth's government was easy, many of them may have been corrupt assholes, in the pockets of the Hutt cartels, but greed worked in my favor. Most just needed a little incentive to see things my way, and for all the power of the Hutts, their society was not a rich one. Hutts gained and maintained their power by beating everyone else to the ground rather than building up their own. They might be individually wealthy, but they did not tolerate wealthy underlings. They could not match the raw buying power of a legitimate corporation.

The first resorts and casinos opened within weeks, construction efforts aided by the generous application of credits. Wealthy tourists came, intrigued by the promise of Ryloth's exotic indigenous sentients opening a den of sin and desire. Credits began to trickle in. It would take time for Ryloth to make enough money to be able to fend for itself, but I had started the process. Only problem was, in doing so, I had painted a target on my back. Still, I could take steps to mitigate that problem.

-----

"I don't do immunity, Neimoidian. I'm getting tired of having to tell you people that," Jango Fett growled.

"Mmmmph. Your loss, Fett, credits are credits, and immunity fees are easy credits. Still, I don't like collecting from Neimoidians... they always want to pay a lot less than people are willing to pay to have them killed. I'm a bounty hunter, Montoo, one bad job, and 'long term investments' no longer matter," Cad Bane replied.

The holographic projections of the two bounty hunters did their reputations justice. Despite both of them being light years away, some primal instinct saw them and knew these men were hardened killers. Jango would shoot me without a second thought.

Bane would enjoy it.

"Gentlemen, you misunderstand the purpose of this call. As nice as 'immunity' as you call it sounds, that is a terrible investment. No one man is wealthy enough to afford outbidding every other entity in the galaxy on a monthly basis. No, I've come to offer you a bounty."

The two shifted slightly. I had their attention now.

"By all means, if someone offers you a bounty on my head, feel free to take it. I'm merely offering a fifty million credit bounty on anyone who offers money for my head. Plus another ten if you are able to put in that extra touch to make an example of them. Naturally, if someone makes a more appealing offer, I'm open to negotiating."

They were silent for a moment. Then, Bane started laughing. Earnest, genuine laughter. It wasn't psychotic as some people would imagine. It was a perfectly natural laugh, like a normal person laughing at a stand up comedian's joke. Knowing the reason he was laughing, that only made it worse.

"That's the kind of offer I can get behind, Captain. I'll be in touch," he said, before cutting the connection. I felt a shiver go down my spine, something in that man was fundamentally broken.

Jango was silent for a little longer. Hopefully mulling it over in his head, I couldn't tell what he was thinking behind his helmet.

"Any other man, I'd blow off. You, however... not a lot of people can lose their legs to a Jedi and say they got the better end of the deal. You've got a pair, I'll give you that, Neimoidian. Someone makes me an offer... I'll keep yours in mind."