Luthen
Location: Nar Shaddaa
Time Period: 13 BBY - 12 BBY
The hotel room at "The Wanderer's Haven" was modest but clean—much better than many places Luthen had to sleep in during and after the war. Kleya sat by the window, watching the chaotic traffic between the city levels.
They had arrived on Nar Shaddaa two days ago. Alex had seen them to the hotel, paid for a week's stay, and said he'd be back tomorrow to discuss further plans. But tomorrow had turned into the day after.
"Luthen," Kleya asked, not taking her eyes off the window, "where is Alex? He promised he'd come."
"He messaged that he had matters to attend to, little one. Important matters."
Luthen didn't show his disappointment, but he was starting to worry. Not because he doubted Alex—he wasn't the type to abandon people. It was more the uncertainty. He had been accustomed to controlling the situation for too long, and now he had to wait.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Luthen cautiously approached the entrance, his hand resting on the grip of his blaster. Habit.
"Who is it?"
"Alex."
Luthen opened the door and saw a familiar face. Alex looked tired but pleased.
"Sorry for the delay," he said, entering the room. "I wanted to come yesterday, but urgent matters came up. Clients, meetings... you understand."
"I understand," Luthen nodded, though a slight irritation gnawed at him.
Kleya jumped down from the windowsill and ran to Alex.
"Alex! We thought you'd forgotten us!"
"How could I forget such a smart girl?" he smiled, ruffling her hair. "I just had a lot of work. But now I'm here, and we can talk about the future. Shall we move to the kitchen?"
Alex and Luthen sat at the table, cups of caf steaming between them. The dim light created an atmosphere of confidential conversation, but both men spoke quietly.
"Tell me about yourself," Alex asked, leaning back in his chair. "I only know you're a former scout. How did you end up in that bunker? How did you, an ordinary soldier, find it?"
Luthen was silent for a long time, turning the cup in his hands. In the dim light of the mess hall, his face seemed older, etched with wrinkles that hadn't been there before the war.
"I wasn't always a soldier," he finally said. "I studied political science, dreamed of becoming a diplomat, believed that any conflict could be resolved through negotiation. Then I worked in planetary intelligence as an analyst, and that's when my eyes were opened to many things. But then everything changed."
"What changed?"
"The war." Luthen took a sip of caf. "Do you know what's the worst thing about war? Not death. Not pain. But how quickly you get used to killing. The first time, your hands shake for an hour. The second time—half an hour. By the tenth time, they don't shake at all."
Alex nodded. He understood that feeling.
"I went from being a desk analyst to commanding a partisan detachment," Luthen continued. "I learned to plan ambushes, blow up bridges, kill sentient beings. All for the freedom of Valorin."
"But something went wrong."
"An order to destroy a collaborator settlement. Including all its inhabitants." Luthen's voice grew harsher. "I realized that was too much for me. Besides, I understood that the war was lost and there was no point in committing senseless cruelty."
Alex studied his companion's face intently. The former scout's eyes held pain, but not regret. This man knew the price of his decisions.
"And you deserted."
"I saved Kleya and disappeared into the mountains. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was cowardly. But I couldn't participate in the massacre."
"And now?"
Luthen looked at the sleeping Kleya, and his face softened.
"Now... frankly, I dream of the day I can get revenge on the creatures who destroyed my home."
Alex leaned forward. Interesting. This man's goals might align with his own.
"Continue..."
"Do you know what I realized during the war? Valorin fought bravely. The planet held out until the end. And we lost because we were alone. The Empire is too big for one planet. You need a network. And I know how to create such a network. I studied it. Analysis, planning, coordination—these are my skills."
Alex leaned back, contemplating what he had heard. This man was exactly who he was looking for. An experienced scout with clear moral principles, strategic thinking, and motivation.
"Perhaps I can help."
"In what way?"
Alex paused, choosing his words. It was too early to talk about grand plans. But he could hint.
"Perhaps our goals align. I have... interests on Nar Shaddaa. Connections. Opportunities. A person with your skills could be useful. We'll start working here, and then we'll see."
"What kind of work?"
"Gathering information. Analysis. Establishing contacts. What you do best."
Luthen looked at Alex intently. The young merchant was clearly not who he seemed.
"But we'll get to that a little later. First, we need to get you settled into permanent housing. The hotel is temporary. I know a good district, relatively safe, with a decent school for Kleya."
"Nar Shaddaa isn't the worst place to start. Huge money circulates here, representatives of all major corporations meet, influential people from all over the galaxy spend time here."
"Are you suggesting I become an information broker?"
"Something like that. I think it's your calling. Former analyst, experience in reconnaissance. On Nar Shaddaa, you'll be like a fish in water. And if you help me organize information gathering, I'll pay you well. A good start for a new life, don't you think?"
Luthen considered the offer. It made sense. His skills were perfectly suited for this kind of work.
Kleya turned from the window:
"And what will I do?"
"You will study," Alex said gently. "Go to school, make friends, live a normal life. Isn't that what you dreamed of?"
The girl nodded, but disappointment flickered in her eyes. She wanted to participate in important matters, not just study.
"Kleya," Luthen said seriously, "education is also a weapon. Perhaps the most powerful of all. The more you know, the more you can help in the future."
Alex stood up, pulling a credit chip from his pocket.
"This is enough for starters. Apartment rent, Kleya's school, setting up. We'll meet again in a week to discuss details."
"Thank you," Luthen took the chip. "For everything."
"You're welcome."
They were silent for a moment, studying each other. Each knew they weren't saying everything. But the foundation of trust had been laid.
"Alright," Luthen finally said. "Let's see what comes of it."
After Alex left, Luthen stood by the window for a long time, gazing at the city lights. A new life, a new identity, a new mission. He was ready for it. The war with the Empire was just beginning, and now he had the opportunity to fight truly effectively.
Location: Nar Shaddaa, middle-class residential complex
Time: 13 BBY, end of the year
Luthen quickly realized that Nar Shaddaa was a planet where information was worth more than beskar. Alex had provided him and Kleya with decent housing in a relatively safe area and gave him his first assignment: to study the structure of local crime.
"Start small," Alex had said when briefing him. "Find out who trades what, who controls whom, where the big money circulates. But be careful—people get killed here for less. Though I'm not telling you anything new."
Luthen spent the first few weeks studying the city. He frequented cantinas, listened to conversations, and made acquaintances with small-time merchants and smugglers. His cover—an independent information broker—worked perfectly. There were plenty of those on Nar Shaddaa.
Kleya attended a private school, paid for by Alex. The girl quickly adapted to her new life, though Luthen sometimes noticed a shadow of the past in her eyes.
"Luthen," she asked one evening at dinner, "why do you come home so late?"
"Working, little one. Gathering information for Alex."
"What kind of information?"
"Various kinds. Who buys what, who sells what, who's friends with whom."
Kleya nodded, but Luthen could see she understood more than she let on. A smart girl, who had grown up too soon.
"You're new here," said Kel Dorro, a Twi'lek with numerous scars on his face. "Heard you trade in information."
"Depends on what kind," Luthen replied cautiously, sipping his synthale.
"I have a client. Wants to know when Coruscant tourists arrive. Rich, influential ones. Willing to pay well."
Luthen understood what he meant. The Coruscant elite regularly visited Nar Shaddaa for entertainment unavailable on civilized worlds.
"And what is your client planning to do with them?"
"Entertain them," Kel grinned. "He has an establishment in the Red Sector. Very exclusive."
Luthen knew about the Red Sector. It housed the planet's most expensive and depraved brothels.
"How much does he pay?"
"A thousand credits for a name. Five thousand if there's dirt."
That was good money. And exactly what Alex needed.
"I need to think about it."
"Don't think too long. Offers like this don't come often."
3 months later.
Luthen spent two weeks studying Lila Kess. Administrator of the "Crimson Rose" brothel, thirty years old, divorced, has a teenage son. She'd been working there for five years but was clearly unhappy with her salary. Most importantly—she was stealing from the till. Small amounts, but regularly.
"Tough day?" Luthen asked, sliding onto the bar stool next to her.
Lila looked up with tired eyes.
"Are there any easy ones?" She finished her cocktail and ordered another.
"I'm Mark," Luthen introduced himself, using one of his aliases. "Information broker."
"Lila. I work in... entertainment."
They talked for an hour. Luthen was charming, attentive, generous with compliments. Gradually, Lila relaxed.
"You know," she said, clearly tipsy, "sometimes I think about quitting it all. Moving away with my son somewhere far away."
"And what's stopping you?"
"Money. Or the lack of it." Lila gave a bitter laugh. "The boss pays peanuts, and life gets more expensive."
"I understand. I'm not rich myself."
"But not poor, right?"
Luthen put on a worried expression.
"Lila, you seem particularly upset today. Did something happen?"
She paused, then leaned closer.
"The boss is doing an audit. Checking all the finances for the past year."
Luthen understood. Lila was afraid her thefts would be discovered.
"Seriously?"
"Very. If he finds discrepancies..." she traced a finger across her throat.
"Are there discrepancies?"
Lila looked at him suspiciously, but the alcohol was doing its work.
"Maybe. Sometimes I have to... adjust the numbers."
"I see." Luthen nodded sympathetically. "And is there no way to help?"
"How?"
"Well, I don't know. Maybe there's a way to distract him from the finances?"
"For example?"
"Give him information more valuable than money. Something that will bring in more profit. It will give you time to cover the difference."
Lila became interested.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm a broker, remember? I know which Coruscanti are planning visits. Rich clients, special requests. That kind of information is worth more than a few thousand from the till."
"And you're willing to share?"
"With a friend—of course. We're friends, aren't we?"
Lila nodded, already seeing a way out of the situation.
"What do you want in return?"
"Nothing special. I'll ask sometimes who visited, what they did. Purely for work."
"And that's all?"
"That's all. You cover for me, I cover for you."
The next day, Luthen provided Lila with information about the planned visit of Senator Kat Nemoitia. The establishment's owner was delighted at the opportunity to prepare a special reception for the high-ranking client and became engrossed in organizing the event.
The audit was postponed indefinitely.
2 more months later
Jack Cole was the perfect target. A security system technician for the "Red Cellars," forty years old, alcoholic, gambler. He owed creditors more than he could ever repay.
Luthen found him in an underground casino, where Jack was losing his last credits.
"Bad day?" Luthen asked, sitting next to him.
"Bad life," Jack replied grimly, having lost another round of sabacc.
"Mark," Luthen introduced himself. "Information broker."
"Jack. Technician." He ordered another drink. "Though soon I'll probably be a former technician."
"Problems at work?"
"Problems everywhere. Debts, creditors, my wife is threatening divorce."
They drank together. Luthen listened attentively to Jack's complaints, sympathized, and treated him to drinks. By the end of the evening, they were best friends.
"Listen..." Luthen said when Jack was sufficiently drunk, "where do you work?"
"In the cellars. I maintain the security systems."
"Which cellars?"
"The Red ones. Heard of them?"
Luthen nodded. Of course, he had.
"Serious work. Do they pay well?"
"Peanuts. And there's tons of work. Something's always breaking, glitching."
"And what kind of clients do you have there?"
"Various. Mostly Coruscant rich folks. They come for entertainment."
"Entertainment?"
Jack lowered his voice.
"Things happen there... It's better not to know."
"I see." Luthen pretended to lose interest in the topic. "And your debts are serious?"
"Fifty thousand. If I don't pay by the end of the month, the collectors will come for my kidneys."
"Damn. And nowhere to earn money?"
"Where? On my salary, it would take ten years to save that much."
Luthen paused, pretending to think.
"Listen, do you have access to the surveillance camera recordings?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Just thinking. Maybe you and I can help each other."
"In what way?"
"You know who Coruscanti arrive, right? Rich, influential people. Information about their visits is worth a lot."
Jack frowned.
"Are you suggesting I spy on clients?"
"I'm suggesting you earn money to solve your problems. No one will get hurt, just information."
"And if they find out?"
"And who will find out? You'll just tell me sometimes who visited. As a friend."
Jack thought about it. Fifty thousand in debt versus friendly conversations.
"How much do you pay?"
"Ten thousand a month. Plus bonuses for particularly interesting information."
"That's... that's a lot."
"It's fair. You're taking a risk, you should be paid accordingly."
The next day, Jack agreed. Luthen gained regular access to information about Nar Shaddaa's most secret establishment.
After a month of cooperation, Jack became a problem. He started drinking even more, became talkative, careless. Once in a cantina, he almost let slip about his "extra income" to the bartender.
Luthen realized it was time to act.
"Jack," he said at their next meeting, "I have a special assignment for you."
"What is it?"
"You need to install a small device in the system. It will automatically copy camera recordings."
"Why?"
"So you don't have to risk it every time by copying files manually. Install it once, and the system will work on its own."
Jack took the device—a small chip the size of a coin.
"Is it safe?"
"Absolutely. It disguises itself as a regular system update."
"Okay. I'll install it tomorrow."
The next day, Jack installed the device. Luthen gained full access to the "Red Cellars'" security system.
And a week later, Jack died from an "accidental" leak of toxic gas in a technical tunnel. Luthen made sure the body was found only a few days later, when all evidence would have disappeared.
No witnesses remained. The device continued to work, transmitting recordings to a remote server.
Luthen sat in front of the monitor, reviewing recordings from various establishments. In six months, his network had grown to a dozen sources of information. Half of them didn't even suspect they were working for him.
What he saw in the recordings was disgusting. The Coruscant elite indulged in the most perverted vices. Sadism, particularly vile forms of entertainment involving the most defenseless victims.
Luthen clenched his fists, staring at the screen. He wanted to grab his blaster and kill all these creatures. But he restrained himself. Killing a few sadists wouldn't change anything. The system would remain.
He needed to destroy the Empire and this place entirely, along with the corrupt officials and the Hutts.
Luthen turned off the monitor and rubbed his temples. In six months, he had gathered compromising material on fifty influential Imperials. That would be enough to ruin several political careers. It was a drop in the ocean of trillions of sentient beings.
But Alex was right. This was just the beginning.
"You've exceeded all expectations," Alex said, reviewing Luthen's report. "In six months, you've created a decent information-gathering network."
"Thank you. But I understand this is just the beginning."
"Exactly. It's time for the next step."
Alex took out a metal case and placed it on the table.
"Coruscant. The very heart of the Empire."
Luthen nodded. He had been expecting this offer.
"An antiquities dealer?"
"Precisely." Alex opened the case, revealing ancient artifacts. "I already have some groundwork in this area. A small client base, connections with mid-level dealers. But we need to expand, move to a higher level."
Luthen picked up one of the artifacts—a crystalline cube with glowing symbols.
"How much does this cost?"
"Millions. But the main thing isn't the price, but the exclusivity. The Coruscant elite will do anything for unique items. I have clients, but they are mostly wealthy mid-tier collectors. I need someone who can reach senators, industrial magnates, bankers."
"I see. And what about my network here?"
"It will continue to operate. But you need to prepare a replacement. Someone who can coordinate operations in your absence."
"I have someone in mind," Luthen nodded.
"Excellent. The main condition is that I must not be known. I receive information from you, and you receive other information from me. I have many sources across the galaxy. I'll provide technical support—communication, equipment, everything necessary."
Alex handed him a credit chip.
"Two million to start. Plus regular deliveries of goods."
"Generous."
"These are investments in our common future." Alex stood up and extended his hand. "But I want you to understand—you are not my employee. You are my partner. An equal partner in a common cause."
Luthen looked at the outstretched hand, then at Alex's face. The young man's eyes held sincerity.
"You definitely didn't graduate from scout school?" Luthen chuckled, shaking his hand.
Alex laughed.
"No. It's just that I've seen a lot of shit in this galaxy. Enough to understand how everything works and that you're an independent player."
"I see." Luthen nodded. "I have a condition."
"What is it?"
"Kleya stays out of dangerous operations. I'll decide whether to involve her or not."
"Of course. She's your ward, your rules."
Alex took out a small crystalline disc.
"Compromising material on several people. In addition to what you've collected yourself. Use it wisely, and you'll get more."
Luthen took the disc, understanding its significance.
"Luthen," Alex said finally, "remember: we're playing the long game. Our goal isn't a quick victory, but the creation of a system that will change the galaxy."
"Understood."
"In a week, a ship will take you and Kleya to Coruscant. The documents are already ready."
Luthen headed for the exit, but turned back at the door.
"Alex, what do you get out of all this? Besides information?"
The young man was silent for a moment, staring into the void.
"Hope. Hope that someday there will be less shit in the galaxy."
After Luthen left, Alex stood by the window for a long time, gazing at the city lights. A sad, tough man with a sad fate—that was exactly the partner he needed. Someone who understood the price of decisions and was willing to pay it to the end.
"The documents are ready," Garrek said, handing Luthen holographic identification cards. "Luthen Rael, an antiquities dealer from Coruscant. Kleya Marki, your adopted daughter."
Luthen took the documents and studied them carefully. The work was flawless—even the biometric data matched.
He and Kleya had been practicing the Coruscant accent and realities all this time.
"Thank you. And convey my gratitude to Alex."
"I will. He's finishing up some of his own business right now."
Alex appeared an hour later with the same metal case. Verena walked beside him—the Twi'lek had changed noticeably during their acquaintance.
"Ready for a new life?" Alex asked.
"As much as possible. Kleya is thrilled at the prospect of seeing Coruscant."
"Excellent. Final instructions."
Alex opened the case with the artifacts.
"This is your starter kit. Each item is unique, each is worth a fortune. Remember—you're not just selling antiquities. You're selling exclusivity, status, the opportunity to own something no one else has."
"Understood."
"Every two months, I'll replenish your stock. I have enough sources."
"Luthen," Alex placed a hand on his shoulder, "we're starting something big. Perhaps something that will change the fate of the galaxy."
An hour later, a transport took Luthen and Kleya to the spaceport. Sitting in the liner's seat and looking at the receding Nar Shaddaa, Luthen thought about the work done.
Now Coruscant awaited him. A new identity, a new mission, new opportunities for the grand game. Luthen Rael, antiquities dealer and builder of resistance networks, was ready for the next stage of the war.