I had no idea through what channels or which analysts this intel about Toydaria passed, but I'm grateful it did. After digging through the Holonet, I couldn't find anything about previous CIS–Republic conflicts there, which means we're right at the beginning of the Clone Wars timeline.
As far as I know, Yoda's negotiations with the local ruler—can't even remember his name—barely happened. By the time the green master arrived, the Separatists were already on the system's moon trying to strike a deal with the king. In other words, business as usual. How many planets have the Seps tried to sway like that? But this one must be especially important to both sides if even underworld syndicate analysts—or whoever leaked the intel—managed to predict with high confidence that the two factions would clash here. Though I disagree about the likelihood of a large‑scale battle. I don't think the Republic has the forces for that. Otherwise they'd have shown up with an armada right away, just to make their point.
After stocking up on everything I needed at the station—especially a new, stylish dark suit with a helmet that, in my opinion, looked pretty damn cool, a two‑piece design that reminded me of a Khornate helm from Warhammer, which is exactly why I chose it—I headed for the system as quickly as possible. It was a long trip, and I had a lot to think through.
So there I sat in the co‑pilot's seat, staring into the shifting colors of hyperspace. I'd been hiding in the rear lines for too long. There's a war raging, and the very essence of my being—the Force saturating this body—pulls me toward the front. Yet here I am, flying around the galaxy doing who‑knows‑what. Of course, my sense of self‑preservation had its own opinion: forget everything else and focus on getting stronger.
There was one pleasant detail, though. I still had the holocron. It wasn't a full copy of Kun's personality—more like a snapshot, a limited echo—but the real spirit was still stuck on Yavin IV.
What mattered was that I could use it to grow stronger. I asked it for guidance and… it agreed. Just like that. To my utter shock, the spirit told me a great deal about the Force. This came right after Kem suggested that I must've lost part of my memory, considering how I was relearning some techniques from scratch. The holo‑spirit, hearing that, informed me—very condescendingly—that I was an idiot, plus a few other terms I couldn't translate, and then added that from the moment we met, I'd been "pressuring" others with the Force.
He phrased it that way so my companions wouldn't understand, but I did. Apparently, I've been unconsciously influencing everyone around me through the Force to get the reactions I want. Judging by the spirit's ironic look, even an ancient Sith echo wasn't immune. I genuinely hadn't noticed, nor even considered the possibility, so under his guidance I walled off that influence from the others.
Now I'm starting to suspect that the Inquisitor in the game didn't build a cult just by performing a few "miracles." And I somehow managed to recruit nearly every Advozse present back then. Interesting. I don't regret it, though I do wish I knew how to use this ability consciously. I suspect it's tied to emotion, like most Sith techniques. But I doubt it'll work the same if I'm channeling hatred or rage. More likely it'll turn into another "aura of fear," the kind hardened Sith radiate. Not all of them—just the unhinged ones. I'll have to test that later.
Before we reached the planet, I needed to think through something else: how to help Dooku without getting smacked into the dirt by Yoda. The little guy is absurdly skilled with a lightsaber, and trying to outduel him is laughable. Maybe if this body had a different "class," but my strengths lie elsewhere. I'm good at manipulating the Force—especially lightning. Yoda was strong, no doubt, but from what little I remember, he never used particularly elegant Force techniques. Mostly pushes, telekinesis, and physical enhancement.
Same with his student. I tried to recall a single instance of Dooku using Force lightning and came up empty. Maybe I forgot, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't his specialty. He preferred throwing heavy debris around. Not that this gives me a huge advantage, but it's something to work with.
Ventress, though—she leans more toward "witchcraft," and Yoda overpowered her with raw Force alone. A Sith inquisitor versus a Jedi guardian. Guardians are nasty opponents. In the game they loved hurling boulders and interrupting casts. I only did PvP a couple of times, but at higher levels the situation must've been different. Or maybe the class had a different name. I don't remember, and I didn't care back then.
It's a shame I can't use my focus generator at full power. I need Dooku to trust me as much as a Sith can trust anyone, and I also need to keep a few cards hidden for when the time comes to overthrow him. The focus generator is one of those cards—area‑of‑effect lightning from above. Even with a lightsaber, you can't block all of it. And I or my allies could strike from the side while they're distracted.
If I want to do anything against Yoda, I'll have to—unfortunately—deal with the clones first. In that episode, they played a crucial role. I'll knock them out with a non‑lethal discharge and let fate decide whether they survive. Yoda must not die. That would ruin everything. Capturing him is fine; they'll negotiate or he'll escape. Worst case, I help him escape. I'm sure Dooku won't kill his former master if he has the chance to convert him. At least not immediately. That gives me about a week. As for Ventress… well, I can "convince" that lunatic one way or another.
I'll tune my lightning to non‑lethal and go full Marvel Electro—zapping everyone left and right. That's my brilliant plan. Oh, and I almost forgot: Kem will be with me. With that melee monster at my side, the quotation marks around "brilliant" can be removed. We're a proper tank‑and‑DPS duo. The tank's job is to let the DPS cast, and Kem will handle that just fine. He doesn't need to kill Yoda—just hold him off.
With the combat strategy settled, I had one last issue to resolve. If I'm going to infiltrate the Separatists—the ideological enemy—then Taales, hero of the "Red" Revolution, needs to disappear. Temporarily. In his place, a masked Sith will appear. Name… undecided. Maybe call myself Starkiller for fun? Shame no one but me would get the meme. Fine, I'll think of something else. Or maybe let them name me during the "initiation." That's where the new suit and the Khornate helmet come in handy. The armor isn't as protective as clone trooper gear, but that's another story. I'm not planning to stand in the path of blaster bolts anyway.
I also forgot to mention—I contacted my "Revolutionary Alliance" while still on the station, told them I was starting an undercover mission, checked on their progress, and gave them the planet's coordinates. I strictly forbade them from approaching Exar Kun's base—far too dangerous for non‑sensitives. Despite my earlier screw‑up, things were going surprisingly well. My intel was extremely valuable: another hidden base no one knew about is worth a lot. For safety, I didn't ask—even over encrypted channels—who was running the propaganda, but whoever it is, they're doing great. By choosing the most unstable planets, the Alliance has already grown twentyfold, and it'll only expand faster from here.
The rest of the flight I spent training and trying to predict how a fight with Yoda might go. Honestly, the results were mediocre, but I had no choice. I concluded it was best to avoid fighting him at all and came up with a new, reckless plan. Still, there was a good chance it wouldn't work, and then… well, that's how we arrived at Toydaria.
When we dropped out of hyperspace above the local moon, I suddenly realized I'd overlooked one tiny detail in my plan. Actually—two tiny details. Both about the size of a "Generous"-class frigate. One of them burst out of hyperspace like a demon from a spice crate and immediately opened fire on Yoda's ship. And yes, we arrived at the exact same second. And no, I absolutely did not plan that. I'd meant to get here early and have a proper conversation with Ventress, but the Force—or something else—decided otherwise. That's how people become fatalists.
A second frigate appeared a heartbeat later, and things got even worse for Yoda's poor shuttle. Fortunately for us, their enthusiasm worked in our favor. While they were busy blasting the Jedi transport into scrap, only a couple of shots came our way, since most of their guns were focused on him. Our eternally reliable captain, Gertis Tios, was at the helm, and of course he didn't disappoint. With a maneuver that should've been physically impossible, he dove the ship into a steep, twisting descent. Thanks to that insane move, we slipped between the newly arrived frigate and our own rust bucket with just enough space to reach the planet's atmosphere—even after the droids finally "woke up" and started firing at us with real intent. Apparently their "incredible" AI couldn't decide which of the two ships was the real target, so it tried to destroy both. Shame no one ever taught them the proverb about chasing two womp rats at once.
In the end, we reached the moon with barely a scratch and dropped out of their firing range. Yoda's ship wasn't so lucky—they couldn't land, but just like in the show, they managed to eject the escape pods.
After we set down in some thick undergrowth, I retreated to my cabin and tried to focus on the Force. I had no idea where Yoda or Ventress were, so I had to rely on the old‑fashioned method: concentrate until something reacts.
About twenty minutes later—this wasn't meditation, at least not the Jedi kind—I finally felt a familiar spark at the edge of my awareness. Just a brief flare of anger, but enough to ripple through the Force. That had to be Ventress learning that Yoda survived. I could practically hear her joy. Well, I wasn't the disoriented idiot fresh out of cryo anymore. Now I was a confident idiot who could shoot lightning from his hands. Improvement.
Once I had a rough idea of her location, I asked the captain to bring the ship a little closer, then continued on foot. No point getting shot down by droids patrolling the area. Kem came with me, of course.
Ideally, I'd jump in during a brief clash between Yoda and Ventress and help her by blasting the little green menace with lightning. But I was sure he'd sense me from a kilometer away. He might even recognize me—my Force signature isn't exactly typical Sith. But as long as I stayed masked and kept my emotions steeped in negativity, I might slip by. Dangerous? Probably. But I had no desire to shine like a beacon in front of Yoda.
After about an hour of trekking, we finally got close enough. I activated the binoculars built into my mask and confirmed both targets were there: Ventress and the local bug‑king. The latter didn't matter much, except that if I wanted to impress Dooku, I needed to convince him to join the CIS.
"Actually," I thought, "considering I subconsciously influence everyone around me… doable."
Then I remembered something important. The Toydarian in the first movie—the stingy one who owned Anakin—was immune to Force persuasion. And this guy was also a Toydarian.
So much for that shortcut.
When we stepped out of the brush, Ventress spun around instantly, igniting her sabers and staring straight at me. She didn't attack, though—she felt the Dark Side. The bug‑king raised a brow, clearly waiting for an introduction.
Time to put my acting skills to work.
I gestured for Kem to hold position—he drew his blade but didn't charge—then performed the most dramatic "aristocratic bow" I could remember from Dark Souls 3. It was the only thing that came to mind, so I trusted my instincts and went with it.
My mask's voice modulator distorted my voice into a harsh, static‑tinged growl, but the words were still clear:
"Finally, I've found at least someone from the Sith… Hm. Call me Brut. I hear you kill Jedi and destroy the Republic. That suits me."
Ventress blinked, stunned by my audacity, while I stepped fully out of the foliage and casually adjusted the lightsaber hilt on my belt.
As for the name—well, I chose a pseudonym fitting for my future deed. Who comes to mind when you think of a traitor who kills a former ally turned tyrant? Exactly. Perfect match.
The witch finally snapped out of her shock and hissed:
"A Sith who runs to serve others? Who are you really? Speak!"
She ignited her saber fully, but before she could move, her body convulsed as a jolt of lightning ripped through her.
It wouldn't kill her, but she'd remember it.
This particular technique was impossible to dodge unless you had a shield or energy barrier ready. In the game, it was an instant‑cast ability that dealt minor damage and stunned the target for a few seconds—an enormous advantage in a fight. Unfortunately, unlike the game, I couldn't crank the voltage high enough to immobilize a Force‑user without my focus generator.
"Gah—!"
The effect ended, and Ventress collapsed into a heap, twitching from the aftershocks. But she recovered quickly—too quickly—and lunged at me with both sabers blazing.
Kem stepped in front of her like a wall of durasteel.
I still don't know whether he reinforced his blade with the Force, treated it with something, or simply got lucky, but each time her lightsabers struck his weapon, they left only black scorch marks. To my utter astonishment, Ventress didn't last even a minute against the dashade. If I'd known that, I wouldn't have wasted one of my trump cards.
And I didn't even help him. Not a bit.
With a single brutal strike, Kem smashed the flat of his blade against her wrists—hard enough to make her drop both sabers—and then slammed her in the torso with such force that she flew half a meter into the air. The impact echoed across the clearing.
Ventress hit the ground on her knees, coughing up blood while Kem calmly picked up both of her sabers, holding them in one hand. Judging by the bulging muscles in his arm, even with the Force she'd have trouble taking them back.
"You're lucky," I said. "Usually Kem eats Force‑users alive. Physically or spiritually? Well… attack me again and you'll find out."
The dashade grinned, baring rows of sharp teeth. His eyes gleamed with predatory excitement. Ventress understood the message perfectly. She staggered to her feet, trying to regain some dignity while I continued:
"Now, about your question… I just want to survive. And for that, the Sith need to stop tearing each other apart and focus on victory. You've heard of the Sith Empire, haven't you? Of course you have. They achieved things the CIS can't even dream of. For now, I'm willing to serve someone stronger. If I become stronger… well, a duel will decide who rules. That's the justice I believe in."
I clasped my hands behind my back and approached the bug‑king, letting out a quiet chuckle under the mask as I looked at him.
The damn insect didn't show even a drop of fear, even though I was pressing down on everyone around me with the Force. Even Ventress felt it, though she tried not to show it. Toydarians really are unpleasant creatures.
Well, I wasn't going to beat Yoda even with the trick I'd shown earlier. And I doubted Kem could hold him for long. That meant I'd have to improvise.
"Your Majesty," I said, giving him a more formal bow this time. Then I pulled a small capsule from my pocket and held it up to the light. The sun reflected off the amber‑gold liquid inside, a faint ripple moving across its surface. Once I was sure I had his attention, I smiled.
"You heard our conversation, didn't you? The Sith Empire… They advanced in every field, but in one they had no equal: genocide. While exploring the ruins of a research complex on some forgotten planet, I found a cryo‑chamber containing this remarkable specimen. There was even a demonstration of its effects. These are viruses that devour all living matter when awakened, and then devour themselves, leaving behind nothing but a dead, barren rock. Unfortunately, by the time the lab was destroyed, only one sample was complete. But it's here. So tell me—who is it smarter to cooperate with? The CIS, who possess at least one dose of predatory bacteria capable of consuming all life on a hostile world… or the Republic, who have… just Jedi?"
I gave him an ironic smile.
And yes, it was pure, crystalline bluff. The vial contained water dyed with special pigments and filled with glitter that looked like swarming microorganisms, which I stirred with the Force. There were even real bacteria inside, so that if Yoda suddenly appeared and somehow sensed "life," he might fall for my "Plan A" as well. My goal was simple: get the planet to join the CIS. If they later built bunkers or wore special suits and then switched to the Republic, that wouldn't be my problem.
"So," I asked, letting a hint of amusement into my voice, "what's your answer?"
The king hesitated for several minutes, frowning, then finally looked up at me and blurted:
"So this is how the Confederacy conducts its affairs…"
That didn't faze me. I just smiled again and said:
"I'm not even officially accepted yet. But if they take me… I think the galaxy is in for an interesting time."
I pushed harder with my Force aura, letting the bloodlust I'd developed in the Dread Fortress seep out. Asajj flinched, and to my surprise, the bug‑king felt it too. He swallowed and asked:
"Where is the proof that you truly have a virus and not a fake?"
Finally, the most dangerous question. But I had nowhere to retreat—if I was bluffing, I had to bluff all the way.
My unclear status worked in my favor. It looked very much like the CIS wanted plausible deniability—"he's not really one of ours"—if this "virus" ever got activated. And the bug wasn't stupid; he clearly considered that.
"So you want to test my words?" I asked. "Unfortunately, if you do, you may lose your subjects… and I may lose my wonderful 'cure' for stubbornness."
I doubled the pressure of the Force to underline my point. I didn't think he was scared, but appealing to duty was the right move. After a few minutes of silent thought, he finally said:
"The Republic's envoy must leave here alive. We guaranteed that."
I simply turned a questioning look toward Ventress. She flinched slightly and answered, her voice catching a bit—my Force pressure hadn't stopped.
"Discuss that with Count Dooku."
Then she activated her transmitter.
For a few minutes she quietly reported everything to the silent figure of the Count. Then she enlarged the projection so he could speak to all of us. After giving me a curious look, Dooku offered polite words to the not‑very‑happy king, then assured him that the CIS army would give the Republic twenty‑four hours to "evacuate anyone they deemed necessary, after which all legal matters would be resolved."
When the king finally left, Dooku turned his attention to me.
"Excellent work, Brut… Or should I say Darth Brut? If I understand correctly, you must have awakened from cryo‑stasis not long ago, in a distant future where the Empire no longer exists?"
A provocative question. I gave him a crooked grin.
He clearly hadn't recognized me as Taales—otherwise he would've said so—but he suspected I might be one of the frozen Sith Ventress had delivered to him earlier. And among them, my original body really had been present. That made things easier.
"You're remarkably well‑informed, Count. So, about my offer to work for you… I assure you, I'm not asking for much in return. Under your leadership, we can restore order to this galaxy and return Force‑users to the place that rightfully belongs to them… above politicians and merchants."
I improvised another layer for my "new persona."
"Ventress will escort you," Dooku said with an almost warm smile before the projection faded.