When it came to creating your own personal Hatsu, for the vast majority with Nen that were the average wielder of the power, it took years to develop a working Hatsu that did as it was intended to. Dare I say even a decade, possibly several, just to master it.

Gon and Killua I remember the fans of the series online spoke of how it was acknowledged they were a… what was it? A one in a million talent for both of them?

My point being, those two were monsters to develop their Hatsu so quickly, especially when they were just kids. While I would like to think of myself as being rather talented when it came to Nen, I do not even believe for a single second it’s near the talent those two kids had, let alone the monsters that existed in that world, like Pitou or that old guy called Netero.

But what I did have was a booster ability that worked rather well when several of my abilities were taken off of my slots, save for only Observation Haki. That one was kept because I didn’t want to be vulnerable while training even with the amount of security and surveillance inside and out of this castle.

In three days I had managed to get my Hatsu formed. The results were well beyond what I could have hoped for with Esper further helping me in creating my desired Hatsu. It showed the paths and forms of training I would need to take nudging me like a gut instinct on what would work best and Booster further increased the speed at which it was being created as it worked with any form of training I had come to learn.

It helped that I had a solid idea of what I wanted my Hatsu to be. I walked along the silken rug floor, my lightsaber sparking and hissing and crackling from each blow that was met by another lightsaber held by a Twi’lek who looked just like me. A doppelganger if there ever was one.

While cool and all… it’s not exactly something I needed nor wanted. It has its uses, like helping Yoda get his youth back if I were inclined to do so and if he wouldn’t try to cut my head off at the first chance given when Palpatine is pulling the strings. I could maybe charge the super-rich for some time in the fountain when I prove it’s the real deal… then I am going to have everyone and their mother wanting discount immortality when it comes to youth and blasting my doors down just to get it.

Ignoring the newly gained item, I just plopped it down in a random room as I went back to my Hatsu. It was not perfected, far from it, but with me using currently three Nen techniques overlapping one another, it was incredibly impressive that Booster and Esper, along with other things that further increased my training speed, managed to help me get this far in a couple of days while Pitou was healing Maul.

Conjuration was the backbone for the Hatsu and did most of the work for the physical aspect of the clone. If I wanted them to be physically present and to do what I needed them to be capable of, then Conjuration was a must. 

After that was Emission, which was going to be critical for maintaining them at a distance, and the other part I had ripped out of Pain's playbook, making sure each clone could do what the one in front of me was doing. I could see it as I also saw through its own eyes and other senses, watching me and clashing with our lightsabers set to the stun setting. 

Our clash went through a series of blows, with me playing defensively while the clone would occasionally break through my defense with elegant and precise strikes that always found chips or gaps in my blade work. Haki and the Sharingan are what kept me in the fight and helped me keep up with the clone who was always on the move, not a single wasted movement and it was improving as we clashed.

A strike angled for my wrist had me twist my arm out of the way only for the blade to snap out, knocking my weapon out of the way. A quick flourish had me try to bring it back to block only to pause when the lightsaber was held at my throat, humming as I stared back into my own blue eyes.

The weapon was extinguished as the clone handed me the weapon back before it turned into a nebulous cloud of aura and rushed towards me as I stood there taking in all the memories and experiences it had gained, as I nodded to myself, pleased.

The last part that kept the thing together like glue and let me receive the memories and experiences from the clone was my Specialist category in Nen. Without that this wouldn’t have been possible. They would have still been effective while used in combat, but they wouldn’t have helped me fix the issue of training with the time I had when I could only be in so many places at once.

The downside to the method I had in training, which wasn’t too big of a deal, was I had to give up one of my powers, ranging from traits, abilities, or skills, and the clone would have it while I was locked off from using it. Wiping the sweat that had built up from my face after the three hours of sparring had passed.

Yet another condition, the clones must be active for at least one hour before I can dismiss them and regain what was learned while they were acting semi-autonomously. If they were destroyed, then all the experience they had gained and accumulated would be lost, which was another condition.

With those in place, it made it a bit easier on me to train while I also handled other affairs, like the growing number of chickens from my two newly gained familiars, with various farmers now taking care of them with the newly established TFC restaurant chain that was being set up while the chickens were bred and getting taken care of. Tatooine Fried Chicken will take this galaxy by storm. 

Looking off in the distance, I see the various facilities recently constructed from the metals I supplied from my ability that would be put to good use when I go to a certain culture of warriors for recruitment.

Hands spread out wide I spoke aloud the name of my Hatsu. “Crown of the Undying Beast.” With the last word leaving my lips, my aura surged and split off, six figures knelt before me before they rose in unison, and each was identical to me. 

All of whom had varying expressions, most of which were pleased smiles. One that I shared giving out orders for them with each upon creation given one of my different powers. One was given the Tinker power over farming, which was going to bring about a radical shift for Tatooine and the other planet I chose for the second seed.

Another is given my skill in performing, particularly for music. It was time to introduce this galaxy to some good music while I get to play it and look like a badass to my enemies. The other four were given varying traits and skills along with abilities to practice combat against some Magnaguards. The clones were stationed in secure chambers within the castle to train without tipping any spies off that there was more than one of me.

We've had plenty of those running around on the planet. My job of securing the loyalty of all of those who resided in Jabba’s old palace, now the monks' home, who have kept to themselves and occasionally helped anyone who came for assistance when injured has ensured no leaks. But that didn’t stop outsiders from trying to gather intel. Jabba’s various rivals, whether Hutts or other factions, the Separatists, or the Republic, have also attempted to figure out the drastic decisions Jabba has made.

From freeing all the slaves in the system and ensuring anyone attempting to continue the practice was dealt with accordingly. Then the tricky part came with giving the newly freed slaves food and shelter and seeing if they had any skills they had learned in their time of forced servitude. Some did, others didn't, and as a result, a system was set up so that those with particular skills could get employed to help teach others.

It was going alright so far, it would take time to see the infrastructure grow on the planet as a result of them all learning various skills. The raw materials were a simple thing to do when most of the metals or anything I couldn’t just create en masse could be brought to the planet on short notice.

Various cities across the planet had grown by quite a bit with the slaves no longer being held against their will. The vast majority chose to stay on Tatooine when given the choice of being given enough credits or remaining here. I couldn’t blame them, as much as I wanted to give them enough to get a place on their homeworlds, even with Jabba’s vast wealth, it had its limits, and that went well past those limits. 

Most of them realized they were better off where they are now, being paid and now capable of finding work and not worrying about getting their heads blown off or abused. Those that hadn’t complied and tried to go against the order were made examples of to the rest of the former owners of those people. 

I looked at a nearby wall on the outskirts of the city with the bodies of both slavers and slave owners, thinking they could defy my orders, strung up with cords as what was left of their bodies swung gently in the wind with signs hung from them. 

The signs had their crimes written across them. After that and a few other examples made out of them, the former owners quickly abided by the new laws. They were compensated, and as much as that irked me, I didn’t need every business owner leaving the planet and what was left of its economy going with it. 

Speaking of which, this is why I found myself before two groups that the people of Mos Eisley or any other civilized part of the planet were always wary of dealing with. One, they had no choice sometimes, the other was just a grim reminder that a planet's inhabitants were not always friendly.

Before me stood on one side a tribe of Tuskan raiders who stared at me with their emotions ranging from curiosity to wariness when they looked towards Nemesis and one of my Death Claws that hovered ominously across from them.

The other group were far more afraid than the Tuskans were. The short robe-clad figures that were the Jawas. But the raiders, while afraid like them, showed it by being ready to fight if needed. The Jawas were ready to try to make a deal, as their greed was at war with their self-preservation.

Both sides came after messengers were sent out with offers of a deal. This tribe of Tuskan raiders were not as bad as the others, and they were still keen to kill outsiders, but they also had enough sense to realize they could never hope to win, and if people like Jabba saw fit to eradicate them, they knew they would have no chance.

So they were willing, albeit grudgingly, to make deals with outsiders. A few other Tuskan tribes were brought along who were in an alliance with theirs, I never bothered learning of the tribes' names simply because I didn’t care enough. As cool as they were and how they reminded me of movie depictions of Middle Eastern nomads and American Indians, I just had too much on my plate to even bother with learning things like that.

I stepped forward with the various Magnaguards watching ominously, ready to unholster the armory of weapons they had stored on themselves. The half dozen I had plenty of confidence in their ability to handle the small army of Tuskens and Jawas.

Two representatives of their people stepped forward. I and a protocol droid walked forward. The droid translated their respective greetings and got down to business translating for me. 

The main reason I was here was for a couple of reasons. In the Jawas' case, it was getting them under control and not fucking with the local economy like they have been for who knows how long. Jabba was content to let them do so until one of them got too greedy and tried to cross him. 

Jabba was a mouth-breathing moron. While successful in his criminal enterprises, he was an absolute idiot when it came to actual legitimate businesses. He didn’t bother with most of the local ones and didn’t care about trying to curate the local economy into something worthwhile in the outer rim. Had he done so and not gotten so lazy on his throne, he could have made this planet into something far more than what it was.

Sure, Tatooine didn’t have the biggest population compared to core worlds like Coruscant, but it wasn’t anything to turn your nose up at either. It was a surprisingly populated planet with talented people around the place if you looked hard enough.

“Lord Jabba has an offer for both of your respective people, and that extends to the rest of your tribes and groups that are the same race or culture as your own. The Tusken Raiders from this point onwards will cease all hostility towards any outsiders from this planet unless that outsider has proven themselves a threat and has acted in a manner that you feel you need to defend yourselves against. In return we can give you land to farm, water, and a foundation for your people to become more than what you are now.”

The droid translated every bit of it as the representative of the more peaceful tribe tensed at certain words while the other members of their sister tribes looked not too happy about them as they turned towards me, hands gripping their weapons tighter but not taking them out just yet. Haki told me plenty-- they were not happy, but they were also willing to hear me out since my reasoning for self-defense seemed to be what is currently keeping them from attacking… that and the hulking bioweapon cradling its shiny new toy guns like its own offspring with a dozen Magnaguards and a Death Claw in the distance.

If anything, my respect for the sand people went up several notches when they knew they would be slaughtered here or had an idea of what I had at my disposal at this exact moment with what they were up against. 

The representative turned back towards the other, gesturing what I assumed to be a sign to stand down. “Your offer seems generous so long as you do not employ tricks like the previous outsiders had. What will happen if we refuse?”

I nodded at that, the desert wind tugging at my cream robes, the heat not fazing me, with the robes designed to be breathable and incredibly comfortable while being made for combat. 

“That’s an easy answer-- complete and utter annihilation. Every tribe that refuses will be slaughtered. Lord Jabba and I myself are not without some mercy, for if the women and children yield and do not fight nor attempt anything in the future, they will be spared and allowed into other tribes willing to take them.”

The droid looked at me for a long moment, possibly contemplating if it wanted to say what I just said before making up its mind. The foreign alien languages it spoke made even the Jawas tense up. The Tusken representative looked between me and it again, with the other raiders' limbs subtly shaking in rage.

The representative said something back, sounding rushed yet also angered. Not as angry as the others, but enough that it bled through into their tone even without the alien language acting as a communication barrier for me.

“I would recommend not threatening my people. It will not end well, outsider.” 

The Jawas spoke as well, feeling confident with the Tusken Raiders ready to fight me. “Or my own people. You will not win nor wipe our collective peoples out. We have survived countless invaders, you are no different.”

“Those of you who wish to fight me, raise your left hand. I will personally handle each of you, if not all at once, if you so desire. You can even use your weapons.” I said to the droid, taking part of my upper robes off and tossing them to the side, showing my sculpted crimson-red physique that gave everyone pause. “And I won’t kill a single one of you… but you may wish for death.”

The droid translated that as well, with the entire group growing quiet. The sand people shared a look with a large number of them behind the representative raising their hands. Easily two dozen.

The Jawas quickly backed away, followed by me giving Nemesis and my gang the signal to stand down. I walk forward calmly with the sand people immediately unslinging their weapons and opening fire on me. Their slugthrowers zipped through the air, impacting my Ten, and while I felt them, it was like someone was lightly poking me, which felt like it was almost nonexistent. 

The sand people paused, seeing me calmly standing there before, and with a brush of my hand, all of the slugs from their guns that remained flattened against my body fell to the sand without a single blemish on my body. 

They remained there for a second or two, mentally processing that I wasn’t dead. In that time, I moved casually behind two of them before chopping down on both of their shoulders with the edge of my hands. What followed were two cracks and grunts of pain before the two were sent to the ground rolling in pain.

The others were slow to react, realizing I wasn’t where I had been a moment before and was now in the middle of their ranks. One ran up with those weird stick things they liked to wave up in the air, doing that weird noise they made in the movies, not even bothering to dodge the strike that impacted my raised forearm.

The strike whistled while moving through the air before sand scattered behind me, disturbed by the force of the strike. My arm twisted, and my hand soon grabbed the weapon, with the Tusken briefly trying to take the weapon back but soon realizing my grip and strength wasn’t about to let that happen. 

I looked into their goggles before looking at the weapon. “Cute toy.” Was all they got before with a squeeze with Ren applied to my hand, the weapon bent and, not long after, shattered to pieces before a backhand to the face sent them spinning several meters away.

The sand people, now realizing I was far from normal, discarded any sense of organization in their attacks beyond not trying to hit their friends. The Jawas at a distance were completely silent after witnessing the brief showing of power I just displayed. 

Slugthrowers were fired in wild abandon, with the only thing making them pause being friendly fire. The slugs washed off of me like water from a duck's back as I tossed them around and slapped them like disobedient children.

Several slugthrowers were bent, completely ruined, with them discarding the weapons and instead charging at me, thinking their numbers would save them in close quarters. Three charged and tackled me, holding on and trying with all their might to hold me down while they and the others tried to pummel me.

One was pushed back with a rib or two breaking, judging by the crack I heard and the pain that could be felt through Haki. He rolled along the sand before coming to a stop, cradling his side while staying down.

Another, I simply pried his hands off of me while giving them a gentle squeeze with audible snaps and crunches heard by all before a bloodcurdling scream of pain erupted from the man whose hands had been thoroughly ruined.

He fell back trying to clutch them only to see blood seep out of his bandages. The third one let go and was about to retreat back behind the others, who now had backed off in horror, realizing their attacks, whether rifle butts or those stick things, had no effect.

He was grabbed before he could go any further with my arms firmly wrapped around them. They grunted and tried to break free, but they may as well have been a fly caught in a spider's web with no hope of escape. My grip slowly increased with them not giving up and fighting with the others, grabbing my arms and hands, and trying to free their friend.

They were nothing more than children trying to remove the grip of a grown man. The grunts turned to cries of pain while I watched on completely devoid of any expression. Their arms creaked and groaned before snapping, along with a few ribs for good measure before I let them go and proceeded to pound all of them into the dirt.

Not even a minute later was a bunch of groaning, squirming bodies on the desert floor, with the only one of the sand people left standing being the representative of what was supposed to be the more peaceful tribe. 

Neat! It can be used with my growing farms and the now fertile land with which Tatooine will become a breadbasket… and the new home of TFC since the chickens have grown quite well in numbers since I have been feeding them any wheat I grow.

All of the sand people were alive, just with broken bones, if not crippling injuries, like the guy whose hands were limp noodles with bones that were more snapped and broken down like tortilla chips. A part of me felt a little bad for the guy's hands, but he chose violence when he was given a warning.

I turned towards the last sand person and the robed Jawas, who stared at me silently all huddled together thinking it would keep them safe should I decide to attack them. My arm waved in the direction of all the injured who were probably wishing they were dead right now.

“As you can see, if we choose to wipe your people out, you have no chance of surviving, let alone winning. I was holding back… a lot. And it was just me attacking them on my own. I want you to remember that. I highly recommend you spread this to all of your different tribes and make sure they get the message. Your people will be given plenty of land that is fertile, and they can do business with Lord Jabba or anyone else you wish to. All that will be asked of you is that you take care of the land and be fair with your business transactions.”

The sand person stared at me for a long moment with the droid conveying each word before, to my surprise, one of the Jawas stepped forward after he and the rest of his merry band of con artists and thieves were talking to one another, as one of them likely knew the language the droid was speaking.

They were now equally excited as they were afraid when I dropped that we would be giving the sand people land to farm on and make a living on. Even letting them sell their crops and livestock how they see fit so long as they weren’t raking anyone over the coals.

It spoke while trying not to look at the fallen sand people around it. “If you are giving them land and conducting business how they see fit, what will you be offering to us?”

“For starters, the same warning that was given to the sand people here, do not screw people over. A little bit over the market value of something is one thing, but don’t price gouge. If you do… like these guys learned, sometimes death is more preferable.”

I ignored the gulp of fear that came from the tiny Oompa Loompa wearing a cloak. “How knowledgeable are your people when it comes to droids and how to not only repair and fix them but also design them?”

The Jawa sensed where this question was going, for he would have to be a massive idiot to not notice. Then again fear and the sounds of people in incredible pain like they were dying tended to make it hard for most to think clearly.

“We are the best on the planet when it comes to repairing droids and other machines. When it comes to understanding their inner workings, not many can say they surpass us. How else would we have managed to force so many people to come to us for droids and the parts they needed?” 

I stepped closer, slowly and methodically, the Jawa tense but fighting with its own fear of me to not stumble back. I nodded, pleased at the show of bravery and greed in equal displays.

Pitou had done some research on the side when she got curious about the locals of the planet. The Jawas had managed to survive for so long despite thousands of years going by while remaining nomadic, but unlike the Tuskens, they had learned to broker trades and deals with the locals, making themselves valuable enough to keep around while not too much of a pain to deal with, or so most people viewed them.

The issue was after seeing the numbers run by Pitou with what she could account for when it came to the local economy, they had almost choked it to death. It still got some money flowing, just enough to keep it from fully dying, but it may as well have been dead by that point when it was only a few bad steps away from falling off the point of no return.

They were notorious for scavenging parts from any machine, be it speeders, ships, or droids. Often even taking a droid from some poor moisture farmer and selling the droid back to them for far more than what they originally paid for the droid.

Taking parts and jury rigging them for several of their products, the little guys were surprisingly good at it when they wanted to be. Most of the time they purposefully set up the machine to break down after so long with faulty parts that could keep the machine working for a time before falling apart. But when they did fix a machine, they did a phenomenal job.

There were only a few people who would swear by the little guys even if they barely bought anything from them, courtesy of getting ripped off, but the few times they properly fixed something, they had done a fantastic job when there were some droids that were functioning just fine after almost a century, if not more, for some of the droids.

They were capable of repairing and fixing anything mechanical once they understood it if they wanted to do it properly, but with how Tatooine was for the longest time until recently with me taking over, they had gone the rip-off artist approach while not going overboard since if they did that, regardless of how good they were, people would eventually get fed up enough with them and make their displeasure known.

“Good. Because from this point onwards Lord Jabba has seen fit to offer you an investment.” The short hooded figure perked up at that as I saw the shadows around their face, with two glowing yellow eyes staring back at me. The greed was strong with this one.

“He will create a company you and various members of your people will work for and have a stake in. The company will primarily be based in machinery, from speeders and droids to even household appliances and maybe starships if you show potential with them. Lord Jabba, with a select few others, will be the majority shareholder, but you will be allowed control of the various daily dealings. If anything, it would bring profit to everyone, and I know that you could care less about that, so an incentive would be it could generate far more wealth than you have managed to acquire in all your years of life within a single year… if you're as good as you claim.”

The Jawa and the others who were no longer huddled together slowly creeped closer at the mere mention of making more money. They all turned and whispered towards one another and gestured towards me while a few Tuskens came up with a primitive gurney to take the injured sand people away. 

Others had to be dragged and when they saw me they looked ready to attack but their representative thankfully stopped that from happening.

“What is the catch?”

“The catch is if you get too greedy and overstep yourselves, you’ll be punished severely, and what control you are allowed within the company is taken from you. It won’t happen often. The big thing is ensuring you keep your reputations intact and clean. A good reputation brings profit, and we want the economy of your homeworld to prosper.”

The Jawas looked towards one another with a few glances at the sand people, who were so thoroughly beaten within an inch of their lives with me barely trying. The carrot compared to the stick must have looked like the most tempting thing they ever saw in their lives.

A conglomerate powerhouse? In this galaxy with already established corporations that would fight tooth and nail, sacrificing everything from their mothers to their future children that resided within their left testicle to ensure they made a profit, it was impressive to see. I found myself thankful I gained the Jawa’s aid since that would make this a lot easier.

That made it even better. With that at my disposal, I could make products vastly superior to anything anyone else designed or made just by having it be stupidly durable and capable of functioning well after it should have just shut down. Like what would soon become my droid army and not Sidious’s. Or if the Jawa tribes decide to not play ball, then I’ll make them obsolete and kill them off economically.

My thoughts were forced back to the Jawas since plans could come later, and I would be damned if I became like Palpatine and only focused on more work. The choice they made was the obvious choice to make. Not that I hadn’t believed for a second they would choose to join some of the sand people in their fight against me, and if they did, it wouldn’t be openly. I knew most of them wouldn’t accept the deal, especially when their alternative was getting wiped out, which would make them take offense and view me as a threat.

While I felt some remorse for what was likely to happen to the various tribes, they made their choices in the end. Some people would give me grief over it, but they haven’t lived in this galaxy as I had. The sand people were notoriously xenophobic and didn’t often have much to do with outsiders beyond a select few and only a handful of tribes, and that number was generous when those were the ones to not shoot you on sight. Most of the time.

Are they completely evil, especially when I witnessed Anakin’s mother's death on the big screen when it was made abundantly clear they tortured her? No. They are resentful of their home being taken over by what to them looked like invaders. 

But where I take issue is when they kill innocent people who had nothing to do with what happened to them and their homeworld and were just trying to survive. I gave them an option to leave the past behind and become productive members of society. If they choose violence and the past, then they can fade away like a bad traumatic memory forgotten to time, with only darkness and nothingness being their only companions.

Glancing over towards the protocol droid who waddled over to me. We need to seriously give those droids some better form of mobility, that walk they do makes me wince with how slow and tedious it is.

“Sir, Pitout is almost done with the surgery.”

It was music to my ears.