YTTRIOSTIC of Durregrohd aged. She was nearly an adult by the time the interest of The Galactic Republic turned away from her home planet of Gorelasg, which brought her mentor peace. And it was not long after that Turzdorel Alpulenya passed on to give life to the soil, leaving her vacant station to be filled by Yttriostic herself. For all her training and connections, all the wisdom she'd been given, the young Raelgar woman still didn't quite feel prepared, but took up the mantle anyway. Such is the nature of aging.
Early in her works as Turzdorel, Yttriostic forged a new alliance with the powerful barons of the Hutt clans. The lords of Nal Hutta were renowned for their greed, but that did not mean a productive relation was impossible, so long as the Gorelasg could insist upon its boundaries as equals, and remain united in a desire to rebuff the expanse of Republic territories. Not all alliances need be close. And she kept the Original Wisdom of her people: 'We must somehow make allies with those beside us, if there is ever to be peace.' This was the task of each Ahead.
As a middle-aged woman in the height of her competence, Turzdorel Yttriostic received news of a new schism between rival factions of the Republic: irritated with taxation they deemed excessive, owning members of the Cato Neimoidia-centered Trade Federation blockaded and invaded the planet Naboo in the nearby Chommell Sector, essentially making a hostage of the typically anti-corporate system as leverage for their profit-driven aims. Yttriostic considered it worthy of note that Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn was instrumental in defeating the invading corporate army, and that he died in the skirmish. His killer was another locus of the Current, and one not of Jedi origin. And it was said that the matter led to the discovery of an exceptionally powerful Jedi, one whose future was a densely-packed and twisting bundle of possibility. She appreciated her predecessor's wisdom in not binding Gorelasg to the Knights of the Republic.
A few years later, when the Turzdorel had grown in wisdom, but had not yet begun to lose access to the memories, invaders came at last. From a novel source, for in the intervening years the Trade Federation had attracted support among its corporate peers and split officially from Coruscant's Republic to form the 'Confederacy of Independent Systems'. They found many allies through the use of many strings, and also found the ire of the Republic. These two galactic superpowers set to war with each other; an expanding war of many fronts. Systems without prior affiliation to the Republic were of the focus of especially intense interest. The Confederates came to Gorelasg with warships.
As was the way of her people, the Gorelasgans allowed the show of force, and the landing of voices for the conquerors. In the low, gray Office of the Servants Turzdorel Yttriostic waited to entreat with them. Their leader brought machine soldiers, and set about giving orders, to which her people complied. It must have been most pleasing, or perhaps worrying, for Yttriostic was 'invited' to a meeting, which she attended alone.
From her Meeting-Room she watched the black boots, and black clothing and black cloak, and proudly-worn silver lightsaber hilt of the man himself as he stepped into her view. He had seemed old and tired to Yttriostic when she was a child, and now he was ancient for a Human, but there was a certain renewed vigor to his movements. An army and a purpose will do that to a man, she supposed, but it was also a performance, and that, men did in desperate vanity. At that time she did not yet know that this man had come to be known as 'Tyranus'.
He looked down at Yttriostic and spoke with smug politeness: "Turzdorel. It would seem that Gorelasg has managed to avoid being crushed beneath The Republic for all these years since we last met. I am grateful for whatever force delayed that subjugation."
Still seated, she leveled a blank stare back at him, and said: "My predecessor had much to share with you. No doubt her wisdom was of use. For this, you should be grateful."
Tyranus pulled out a chair and sat, straight-backed. He pressed the bent knuckle of his thumb into his white-goateed chin and stared out the window. "I was lost, all those years ago," he said, "a sharp mind dulled by foolish company. And by my own folly…"
Yttriostic looked him up and down, and spat: "You knew what you were doing then, as you do now! This 'Confederacy'—the Banking Clan, the Techno Union. The Trade Federation! These are not allies, Dooku. These multi-system corporations would burn any planet, enslave any life to fatten their own purses!"
Tyranus let the silence sit. He beheld her grimly. "...Now I must take the long view, as the betterment of the galaxy demands. Difficult choices are the price of leadership. And a tool can serve many ends, regardless of its ugliness. Would you condemn your humble little Liberator, that he slayed so many Republic soldiers, and was demonized for it?"
"Closvimteol was not a 'tool'," she said, "he was one of us. Only through mutual trust, collaboration—yedinitizn, were we able to remove the Colonizers from our home."
Tyranus stood and frowned at her. "And now the Republic sends its vast armies of Clone soldiers for the same purpose. Many of them are dead by my orders, or the strength my own hands; do you believe, as their Senators do, that the killing of these jackboots makes me an evil criminal? Only a fool would make such an equivalence, and to fools, all will be made clear soon enough."
"Ah, yes," she said, and rolled her eyes, "and in the meantime, everything is right with Dooku, Separatist King. No longer must he suffer under any yoke, and so the galaxy and its peoples, save the irritating Republic, have returned to their rightful place: below."
Tyranus scoffed at Yttriostic, but his pleased smile soon fell. He walked over to the window and looked out it, sulking; his head hung low. There was still some weight on his shoulders. "Serenno is a dark and lonely planet," he said, "its solitude now brings me no comfort. True leadership is a more terrible burden than any Jedi could imagine." He turned to her, melancholic. "But I have always admired Gorelasg. You need not squander it in 'neutrality' towards a war that will come to consume all systems, willing or no."
She shook her head slowly. "We would be but a jewel in your crown, and splattered by the blood of your atrocities. Enjoy your empire, Dooku, for what time you have to dominate it. You and your cronies are no friends of Gorelasg. We prefer a crippled, bloated Republic to the tyranny of slavers."
Tyranus wheeled on her; his face first pinched in seething outrage, then twisted into a mocking grin. "Hah! Still you cannot see how fate surrounds you," he said. He stood tall, calmed. "You have failed your people, Turzdorel. Captain!"
A thin, tan droid soldier with green markings entered the room, with a few plainer-looking assistants of the same make. It spoke with a nasally, mechanical voice: "Yes, sir?"
"See to it that this Raelgar is tried for her crimes against the Confederacy," Tyranus said, gesturing with calm derision at the Turzdorel, "and the same for any who advocate inaction as all other systems fight and die for their independence. The great War demands strength of character in all who serve the cause."
Two droids gripped the Turzdorel by the shoulders, and their grips tightened as she struggled. Twisting, she shouted back at Tyranus: "May you die still knowing, and having learned what your ways sacrifice. The yoke of all mortal beings will yet find your neck!" Before she was removed from her own chamber, she managed to spit on Tyranus' neat black tunic.
He brushed the Raelgar's spittle off himself and shook his head in a chiding way. Absently, he rubbed his throat.
Not all Gorelasgans were so flatly dismissive of his words; one now brought Tyranus by hovertaxi to the Monument of Steelworks, which was a far more impressive structure than that flat old office-building. A balcony overlooking the streets from this building, rows of battle droids, Confederate banners, and a crowd of Gorelasgan citizens were already set up for his coming. There were cheers as he approached.
Atop the balcony were droid officers, a few emissaries representing other systems in the Confederacy, and the commanding general of Tyranus' armies: a towering, ossiform cyborg named Grievous. All stood quietly at attention as the Lord of the Sith stepped up to the balcony's low railing, gripped it firmly beneath him, and addressed the assembled crowd:
"People of Gorelasg! Long have I admired your bravery, your strength.
"Now, we are faced with difficult times. But these are not of our making; it is the tyranny of the so-called Galactic Republic which inevitably ruins all it touches.
"I would not ask you to burn your lives resisting the oncoming aggression, as you have heroically fought in centuries past.
"No, for in all my travels here I have had the privilege of witnessing the competence and wisdom of your smiths, your engineers, your mechanics and laborers; the productivity of your factories and the power of your craft.
"We must be united in purpose, and so I bring Gorelasg the gift of loyal Droid Soldiers: an army that would work tirelessly to liberate this, and all systems from The Republic's war of conquest, without any cost of casualty.
"All I ask in return, Gorelasg, is that you continue to be as you already are: Workers! Masters of your labors!
"In peaceful contribution to the creation of weapons will your struggles be, and once the Republic has finally fallen, your independence within our joint Confederate Alliance will be assured… forever!"
The crowds whooped and applauded most excitedly, Tyranus smiled. These Raelgari are not by their nature a disagreeable species, he thought, give them a task, prune the hateful and obsolete, and avoid bloodshed, they'll serve as well as any.
And in the hidden places of Gorelasg, its people were already set to work fabricating hammers. Ones capable of cutting, and they would have been enough to sever the grip of Count Dooku's empire.
For the greater darkness to come, they were unified in the Current. A powerful ally it is.