Chapter 328
**Dagon POV**
The heavy transport and passenger ship *Corellian Star Shuttle* slowly docked at one of Coruscant's massive spaceports. The enormous bay doors rose with a deep mechanical groan, and a minute later passengers began to disembark. Hundreds of ordinary civilians streamed out, but they were outnumbered by men and women in military-style uniforms. Each carried a heavy duffel bag and various small arms now stored in distinctive cases. Citizens passing by eyed the mercenaries warily.
Falen Croft, deputy head of the Natori Association, looked around the landing platform.
"Our employer is late," he muttered.
"Not at all," Kyle Solomon replied, pointing toward a dozen clone LAAT/i gunships that were beginning to descend near their group. A young man jumped out of the lead gunship and headed straight for them.
Kyle recognized him immediately — Dagon Marek, a Jedi, a Republic general, and their direct employer.
When Marek had contacted them and offered the contract, Kyle had not hesitated for a second.
First, this order could elevate the Natori Association to a new level. It was no small thing — a Jedi had hired four-fifths of the organization's specialists. He could easily have hired them all, but half a thousand other instructors were already committed elsewhere, so the client had to settle for just two thousand. This was no ordinary contract. Especially considering the total payment, which was expected to reach ten to fifteen million credits.
Second, the very fact that they had been chosen from among so many other organizations warmed Solomon's heart. It was, albeit unspoken, recognition of their achievements and talents.
"Solomon. Croft. How did you get here?" the approaching Jedi greeted them.
The two men nodded in response.
"General Dagon… We are used to traveling around the galaxy," Kyle replied.
"How many of you are there?"
"One hundred and eighty-three people. Another one hundred and fifteen will arrive tomorrow. The rest are gathering at our headquarters on Sperin. From there, they'll head here on our organization's ships. Some people were grumbling, though — we had to pull them out of vacation… Why?"
"Oh, well. It's just that the first of your charges have already begun arriving."
"Hm."
"Really? That means we're just in time."
"We'd like to see the promised portion of the payment," Croft interjected.
"Please forgive my companion — he is a purely pragmatic person," Kyle said, spreading his hands.
"I understand perfectly," the Jedi replied, handing them a small reinforced bag. "There are twenty-four stones here. Will you count them? Plus a bonus of fifteen million credits. Will that do?"
"I think we can do without counting," Kyle said with a small smile. "So, what about our work? We're ready to start right now. True, we've mostly been training representatives of other races…"
"Oh, don't worry. You'll have a choice."
"Mmm?"
"Please come on board. We'll continue our conversation along the way."
Kyle followed the Jedi into the nearest gunship. Meanwhile, his men were taking their places in the other transports. As soon as the troop bay doors closed, the Jedi began his explanation.
"Eighteen thousand sentients arrived this morning. Only two regiments of them form cohesive units; the rest are a hodgepodge of people from various planets. You'll need to select the least competent among them and deal with the weaklings. Among the arrivals, there are also one hundred and fifty Echani and two thousand-odd Duros. The former must be molded into at least capable company- or battalion-level commanders by the end of the month. Train the Duros like space marines… In fact, anyone who exceeds the standard should either be reassigned to special units or removed from the roster and trained as technicians, repairmen, medics… Those who manage to get into the infantry should be mercilessly harassed. Spend some time on firearms training — you'll be provided with ample ammunition. Hand-to-hand combat, however, is an unnecessary expense, especially against droids. So keep that to a minimum."
"The client's wishes are our law," Croft replied phlegmatically.
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**Scene 2**
**Dagon POV**
"Sir, you might want to get to landing bay 3. There is a situation," Dittmar reported over comms.
"Dittmar, you're a fleet admiral. Situations are your specialty."
"Not this time, sir," Dittmar replied, his voice carrying a rare note of surprise.
I made my way to landing bay 3 and stepped out onto the platform.
Now what is the problem…?
*Whoa. That is a lot of Wookiees.*
A large gathering of Wookiee warriors — and a few Lasat mixed in — stood waiting. There were easily over 11,000 of them, towering, furred figures carrying traditional weapons and looking ready for battle.
"Uh, sir… what are we gonna do?" Dittmar asked, clearly taken aback.
"I will handle it."
I stepped forward and roared — or rather, spoke fluently in the Wookiee tongue.
"Warriors of Kashyyyk! Why have you come here?"
A powerful Wookiee warrior stepped forward. I recognized him immediately.
"Chewbacca."
"Yes, I am Chewbacca. We are of the Kachirho Wookiee Militia. As thanks for your food, protection, and justice against the captured Trandoshans who enslaved our people, we have come to fight for you in your new army."
I nodded, impressed. "Okay. Dittmar, contact Ethan. Start expanding the extra clone armor for more warrior protection to fit the Wookiees comfortably."
"Yes, Dagon."
"Chewbacca, can I call you Chewie for short?"
"Of course."
"Great. Send some of your warriors with Dittmar. That way the armor won't be too restrictive."
"As you command."
"Good."
The massive Wookiee contingent began to move, following Dittmar's directions toward the armory bays. I watched them go, a small smile tugging at my lips.
The war was growing larger by the day.
And now, it had gained some very strong, very angry allies.