The Rebel Faction

Geist looked at the luxury yacht before him though it looked battered and beaten like someone had pulled it out of a scrapyard and fixed it up with the junk around them, if he looked closer he could see that was a lie. The ship was fully operational and by the looks of the hidden gun ports was probably sporting some illegal military grade weaponry. The strange soldiers ringed the ship, forming a perimeter which was a wise decision on the Smuggler's Moon when one considered the huge hidden chop shops that operated on the planet, looking for any unattended vessel to turn into spare parts they could make a profit off of. That wasn't likely to happen to this ship though even if there hadn't been guards. If these guys really were as powerful as the masked man said, then that meant that had the Hutts on a leash and no one was stupid enough to cross the Hutts on Nar Shadda unless they enjoyed the idea of falling down one of the moon's many bottomless shafts.

Geist approached the ship and several of the strange soldiers turned, their glowing red lenses of their helmets focused on him. It made Geist shiver just so slightly because he felt like he was being scrutinized though the soldiers made no motion with their weapons. They just watched him approach the ramp. When he reach it, another soldier was already walking down the ramp, though its combat suit showev an odd 2 insignia on it. It turned towards him and spoke in a flat though human voice.

"You are expected, come with me."

Geist simply obeyed knowing that no one would have gone through such effort to set up such an elaborate trap just for him. He was nobody. Hell the Jedi probably didn't even know he existed and the Sith had probably wiped his name from their records after he'd vanished again into the depths of Nar Shadda, going so far as to ditching the other Sith who had come with him. They would probably hold a grudge for it, but that was there problem. Geist had bigger plans than mucking about as an underling of the Empire. He wanted power, power gained from the dark knowledge he wished to research and develop for himself. It was a truth of all dark siders, they were always out for themselves trying to gain as much power as they could and Geist admitted that he was like that but he sought the power of knowledge, of experimentation. That was why he'd experimented with the deathsitcks and produced and several incredibly powerful variants. He'd also slowly but surely developed ways to brainwash people with them, creating the small amount of guard and workers he'd had before the masked man had arrived to make his offer.

Now all that was left was to speak with him again and to become a part of this so called Union. The idea of such a group sounded more like paranoid speculation than truth, the inane ramblings of mad men and conspiracy theorists who flooded tabloids and book stores with their ideas only to have the general public scoff at them. No such thing existed, afterall, people would notice, wouldn't they? Of course not. No matter how clever the general population believes itself to be, they were nothing but nerfs, guided along by whatever power reigned over them and the powers had little if any knowledge of the Union more than likely. Such a group would be foolish to let itself be known about. Thus Geist could believe the Union existed because almost everybody in the underworld heard rumors about it. A name was never spoken but there was always talk of a group that called the shots over the major crime syndicates, whose word was law within the underworlrd. Now Geist had the chance to become someone, something beyond some religous ideologue like most Sith end up becoming, rambling on about hatred and the power of the dark side like one of those little toy dolls in the stores with the pull string, spewing out the same old phrases over and over again.

"Ah, welcome, Geist. I was hoping you would accept the offer," came the voice of another man as Geist was led into a very well furnished lounge.

Geist looked around to see a number of comfortable chairs at the center. Sitting in one, looking like some shady business man was a well built man in a black suit, his eyes cold and icy. Standing behind him to his right side was the masked man who had come to Geist earlier.

"So Omega didn't spoke you enough to keep you from coming?" the well dressed man asked with a cold grin as he moved a hand towards the masked man, indicating his name.

"No, he more intrigued me, as did those bizarre soldiers you seem to employ. The seem... empty," Geist said after finally deciding what was so unsettling about the soldiers in the force.

"Ah yes, the Necrotroopers don't have personalities or emotions. That probably gives some sort of blank slate feeling to someone who can sense such things," the well-dressed man said with a chuckle.

"Who are you?" Geist asked, putting down his bag and sitting opposite the man and his apparent servant, Omega.

"Ah, how rude of me. I am Xim. This is Omega Thrax, the Voice of the Union," Xim said as he indicated Thrax again.

"Voice?" Geist felt a little put off by such a strange title.

"Come now, Geist, you must realize we are a very secretive organization. Omega acts as a sort of automatic authority and messenger. Most members of the Union have to answer to him when he shows up because he tends to carry orders from the Chairman. And before you ask, the Chairman is our leader. You could call him the founder as well but that's history. What matters is that you understand the food chain and realize that as I tell you this, saying no now means we'll have to kill you," Xim said without even the slightest change of tone in his voice almost as if that was simply a fact of life.

"I've come this far, Xim, I don't intend on throwing away an offer which could set me up for good and permit me to do my research," Geist replied darkly.

"Good, then lets get things straight. You will either serve the Union directly or form an organization to serve as a Union puppet. The advantage of the puppet group would be its all yours. We don't give a damn how you run the thing as long as its successful in what it does and obeys our commands when we hand them down to you. Other than that, you could serve like myself and Omega do as direct servants of the Chairman. No groups ties except to the Union directly and the ability to assert authority over the other groups at times," Xim said with a smirk.

"I think I have ambitions of my own, Thrax told me you might have the ability to provide me with some training. I have only a small grasp of the force. If you have means to give me even the slightest understanding, then I will go form there. I wish to start my drug business off somewhere better situated and less likely to be searched. I also need servants," Geist replied.

"I think we can arrange something," Xim said with a small grin as the ship shuddered and began to take off.

There was much to talk about and much for Geist to do. He would need to build his drug cartel up on some basis that would make it unlikely to be betrayed. But all in good time. Things were just taking shape.

Geist sat quietly in his quarters reading through history logs of the galaxy looking for inspiraiton. Drug cartels always had something behind them to ensure the loyalty of their direct workers but in the end he needed to find something viable. He spotted many Hutt links to such things but had no care for dealing with the Hutts directly and his mind was beginning to flow with new ideas. He could make more than just a drug business he could make something terrifying especially with his gained knowledge and appreciation of death sticks. He'd thankfully managed to avoid exposure to the terrible chemical compound himself due to his initial use of makeshift protective equipment and then after that he'd had enough workers that he merely had to supervise the efforts of his miserable little addict slaves from above which is what he had been doing until the Union reared its head from the shadows with a deal for him.

Now all that was left was to scheme and plot his ascension to power even if being on the leash of the Union. They seemed the sort that could have him killed easily if he stepped out of line when they decided to ask something of him. Such a fear was something few others had because a government could want your head but the Union wasn't a government, it didn't play the politics game. You didn't leave them unless you were practically pardoned by the Chairman or for business reasons. Otherwise you were as good as dead if you skipped out on them or betrayed them in some fashion. Geist had already stumbled upon a file in the Union database marked as Dismissal. It was a list of executions more often then not carried out at the order of the Chairman himself of Committee members who thought they were more clever than the Union. Geist did not wish to be on that list which meant success was the only option.

He then considered something else, his need to strengthen his grasp on the force. That alone would be a goal to further his own organization because even now he could see the need to perhaps find some basis for this as a center to his intentions to export drugs. He entered the term cults into the history files and watched a number of names came up until an odd one caught his eye. The Bando Gora. Geist selected that name, feeling somehow it might be a lead he was looking for. His premonition proved correct when he saw the word death sticks linked into it, there wasn't much but there were connections and he knew how easy it was to engineer a new strain. All that was mention otherwise was the tendency of the group to operate in the Outer Rim regions which would be fine with him. All he had to do now was find a world to start the cult again. He calmed his breathing to his lowest and reached out to the force, peering deeply into the darkside. He was no expert and all he often got was fog but he let the darkside guide his hands and they selected a name. Kohlma. Geist wasn't sure why or how but its position made it prime territory to be out of the way. It would make a fine starting point to rebuilding the force cult and spreading his addictive narcotics across the galaxy.

Now all that was required was to start planning and training which meant the Union needed to live up to their end of the bargin.