Alexander felt his entire body stiffen.
Consequently, he didn't even attempt to rise from the commander's chair located on the bridge of the Relentless.
He sat staring ahead, as if trying to hypnotize a single mark on the tactical hologram before him.
But the point did not move.
Except, of course, for the stellar wind that was drifting the stationary shuttle to the side.
An obsolete Lambda-class shuttle, which had been reactivated from among the ships on Kessel by Grand Admiral Thrawn's order.
Well, at least this scrap metal, which Alexander's technicians had rejected, was good for something.
After first, of course, stripping the machines of all valuable spare parts and equipment and placing them in storage.
It was intended that these shuttles, transports, and freighters would be used as target drones for pilot training in the future.
So they wouldn't grow soft and wouldn't forget which side to approach the flight stick from.
But Thrawn had demanded that one of these ships be restored and sent to coordinates he had provided personally.
For what purpose—he naturally hadn't said.
But from the instructions relayed, it was clear that this was by no means a routine task, like guarding Kessel.
"The ship is an indicator. Sentients are to arrive at the meeting place. I want to know who. Your task is to observe. From ambush. You will receive the signal to intervene."
Judging by the fact that specialists from the Guardian had spent very little time on the shuttle before a droid pilot brought it to the designated point, the operation for which this combination was created was not all that difficult to execute.
And to be perfectly honest, they had simply sat a B1 battle droid in the pilot's seat.
As Alexander had been informed, only an information chip had also been delivered aboard the shuttle.
The coordinates leading to the interstellar void were also taken from this device.
What Thrawn wanted to achieve, other than tracking the ships that appeared at the meeting place, was unclear.
But that didn't mean the order could be ignored.
Nor could the placement of buzz droids on the shuttle, which it had deployed after arriving at the location and exiting into realspace.
The droids would spring to life as soon as their sensitive sensors detected the arrival of an alien ship.
This addition—Project Morrt buzz droids—was a "seasoning" to the plan from Mor himself.
As was the Interdictor-class Star Destroyer, also lying in ambush like the Relentless.
Literally a thousand units from the location where the Lambda had positioned itself.
The best scanner in the galaxy is capable of responding to objects within a radius of two hundred units.
No optical instrument would detect two Destroyers at a distance five times that of sensitive devices.
Trust in the beacons, but don't be a fool yourself.
Since Thrawn intended to track those who came for the ship, it meant insurance was needed.
An absolutely empty starship is easy to scan and realize that there isn't a single living soul on board.
If the unknowns expect a contact person who isn't on the shuttle, the bait might not work.
And if so, the tracking idea is not viable.
Alexander had done everything to implement the task with maximum efficiency.
But he could not influence the enemy or hasten their appearance here—such a thing was beyond his power.
Mor didn't even imagine who exactly he was tracking.
All that remained was to wait.
And hope that this endeavor was not, in principle, a waste of time.
Whoever you are, whoever is supposed to fly here—you need to do it as quickly as possible.
Because patience is starting to run out…
***
After shipbuilder Zion left the conference room, a brief silence fell.
"I won't say he's wrong," Grand Moff Ferrus broke the silence. "We indeed need to conduct unification of our existing ships and get rid of the redundant. This will reduce maintenance and upkeep costs for such a vast fleet of ships and equipment. The budget, as I've already said, is not bottomless."
"That much is clear," Vice Admiral Pellaeon agreed. "But at the same time, we cannot overnight abandon all the ship types already in service. For example, I'll remind you that at the moment, only a third of our Star Destroyers in the regular fleet are equipped with Crusader-IIs as escort and screen ships. The rest are Corellian CR90-class corvettes and DP20-class frigates. If we get rid of the Corellians now, a significant portion of our capital ships will find themselves without attached forces."
"Again—if we get the Pho-Ph'ean technicians at our disposal, it will allow us to increase the number of working hands at the shipyards and slips that produce Crusader-IIs for us," Ferrus reminded. "Which means the number of ships of this type produced will also increase…"
"Optimistic forecasts," I stated, looking at the head of the DBS. "Colonel Astarion, what are your thoughts?"
"Extremely simple considerations," the counter-intelligence officer replied without a second's delay. "There are arguments that once we get new technicians, that's it, the problem is solved. But there is a temporal nuance. How much time will it take to find those willing to work at our shipyards? While we and the Jensaarai check them and ensure their loyalty…"
"I recall you saying only recently that they are loyal to us," the Vice Admiral frowned.
"In every bantha herd, there are sick and willful individuals," Astarion didn't hesitate for a word. "We have only recently begun working with them. And we only know the race by general data. No one—myself included—can guarantee that fact. That there isn't a single enemy spy or radical among them who will infiltrate a technical team for the sake of sabotage."
"Yes, that's understood," Gilad Pellaeon grimaced. "But these processes need to be accelerated somehow."
"No problem," Astarion chuckled. "I'll simply recall my specialists from your ship crews and send them to work on Pho-Ph'ea. If you agree, it will significantly speed up the issue of checking the loyalty of candidates from among our new allies."
"There is no need for that," I warned. "The situation with Captain Bren vividly demonstrated to us that the presence of mixed crews—originals, clones, and former 'militia'—on board can lead to unforeseen situations. Recalling security officers from the ships would signal the crews that there are certain relaxations regarding discipline."
"I completely agree," the Vice Admiral said. "The manning tables are set, and the crews have only just become accustomed to the return of security services to the ships. It is unwise to recall them…"
"In that case, we must either clone more counter-intelligence officers or wait until the existing personnel handle the task," Astarion concluded. "New territories are being annexed rapidly. To create territorial DBS units, I have already exhausted all the reserves I had. Including employing staff members from the Central Apparatus."
"In other words, you simply don't have the necessary number of subordinates," I concluded.
"That position has remained unchanged for a long time, sir," Astarion replied laconically. "We barely recruited half of the required staff by the start of this year. By the start of the counter-offensive—we finished their training. Now they have all been sent for field work. Where there should be, say, five officers—I have one operating. There is no talk of speed. I am not even going to discuss recalling active units from strategically important sites like shipyards, slips, workshops, fortress planets, defensive stations, Perimeter nodes, and so on—their recall would be equivalent to the same as redistributing officers from ships and active units of the Armed Forces."
"Lieutenant Colonel Tierce," I addressed my adjutant. "Since we have concluded that we are ceasing the production of clones for the needs of repair enterprises and shipyards, the freed-up capacity of the cloning cylinders should be redistributed in favor of the DBS."
"It will be done, sir," Tierce replied.
Astarion breathed a sigh of relief.
"But not in full," I continued my thought. "The Colonel indicated that he would need time to attract the necessary personnel from Pho-Ph'ea. We cannot afford to let our capacities sit idle. A compromise solution is needed. Consequently—half of the freed cloning cylinder capacity will be directed toward increasing the number of counter-intelligence officers, and the second half—toward reinstating specialists for the shipyards. The latter, obviously, for those orbital docks currently in mothballs and part of the Dominion's secret repair capacities."
To which, of course, we send no one but clones without additional verification.
I was speaking of the captured orbital docks from Sluis Van.
At the moment, only ten of them are functioning.
Five in the Kartakk system.
An equal number in the central sectors of the Dominion core, performing modernization on the Star Destroyers we also have in mothballs.
Yes, only the deaf and blind don't know that we obtained a huge number of ships and orbital docks as trophies after the Battle of Sluis Van, but their location and specifics of work are a state secret.
"Thus we can support the work of the DBS without reducing the speed of work at the orbital docks," Astarion said understandingly. "Yes, that will help us. But still, the work with the Pho-Ph'eans will not be rapid."
It won't be in any case—even if we gave all the "free" cloning cylinders for counter-intelligence needs.
Time is the main currency, and we don't actually have much of it.
"If Zion's assumption is correct, and with the new technologies from Pho-Ph'ea we can modernize Imperials in just a month, then the question arises as to why we shouldn't subject all currently manned Star Destroyers to such changes," Captain Pellaeon said quietly.
"That would take our primary forces out of action for an entire month," the original Pellaeon reacted immediately. "This was just discussed before Zion left to 'rest'."
"But it's beneficial in the long-term perspective," the clone Pellaeon persisted. "Not tactics, but a strategy for fleet development."
"The ships will be tied to the shipyards for a month," the original Pellaeon continued to insist. "I cannot allow anything of the sort!"
"And at the same time, there is a rational core in Captain Pellaeon's words," I concluded, having heard both positions and assessed their prospects. "How many unmanned Imperial-class Star Destroyers modernized to Mark IIIs do we currently have?"
"About fifty," Pellaeon replied without delay. "But those are the 'old' Mark IIIs, without launchers."
"And with 'duty crews' in the form of droids," Colonel Astarion joined the conversation.
"Currently, we have about a hundred combat-capable Imperial-class Star Destroyers of all three types," I continued calmly. "That is nearly two hundred to three hundred thousand crew members. A number of these ships sustained damage in battles and require serious repair. Which can be combined with modernization according to the updated project."
This had been discussed earlier, and we had used a similar "policy" before, when the Mark III project first appeared.
But it wouldn't hurt to remind the officers of our priorities.
"I have studied this new project in detail, sir," Vice Admiral Pellaeon took the floor. "Zion has effectively squeezed the maximum out of the Imperial. We won't be able to integrate any more weapons into it or automate it further. The new project, the Mark III update—is the final stage of development for this ship type. Accordingly, if the enemy invents new ships based on engagements with our updated ones, we simply won't have anything to counter it with."
"You speak as if you want to keep our Mark IIIs in the rear," Astarion noted, becoming alert. "Saving them for a 'rainy day', so to speak."
"That is exactly what I am proposing to do now," Pellaeon said with emphasis in his voice. "We have already shown the enemy our Victory-IIIs. We received Republic-class Star Destroyers and MC90-class star cruisers in response. Unlike us, the enemy—both the New Republic and the Alliance—has more than one shipbuilder in reserve. And more shipyards than we do. While we are busy modernizing our ships and straining our shipyards, workshops, and orbital docks to modernize our Imperials to updated Mark IIIs, the enemy will develop a new ship type. And produce them on a far greater scale."
A perfectly typical "arms race."
Each state realizes that its survival depends first and foremost on the quality of its weaponry.
Therefore, new projects will be created in any case.
The only question is whether they will be the natural evolutionary result of the enemy's shipbuilders' independent thoughts, or the fruit of revolutionary observations of our equipment's actions.
"As far as I've studied the data on the newest enemy capital ships, the updated Mark IIIs will surpass them," Ferrus murmured, as if to no one in particular. "And given what was said to Zion, I think we should stop calling the Mark IIIs 'Imperials'. We need a Dominion name."
"We'll leave that until a prototype project is ready and has been studied by the technical commission," the original Pellaeon said, glancing quickly at me and then looking away.
I hope he doesn't think I don't know that the Chimaera and the Assault Hawk have become such "prototypes."
At the same time, the former is already in the final stage of modernization—Captain Tschel understands perfectly well that after the raids, the Guardian will be laid up for repairs, and I will need a new flagship.
Since the Punishing Blade remained as an invisible guardian in the Kessel system, there aren't many options.
And I must say, Tschel is thinking correctly.
The first to test the "old" Mark IIIs was Dorya.
And he is not just a competent military man, but also a perfectly competent technical specialist.
Since Dorya was reasonably satisfied with the Mark III, then such a ship type will not be something "disgraceful" for me either.
"But it is ready," Astarion chuckled. "Don't underestimate our shipbuilder. As soon as Reder delivered the technology samples—which, mind you, were intended for the Zann Consortium—Zion studied them all. Both the blueprints and the devices. Making the necessary adjustments is not a major problem for him. My sources report that the project is not just ready—in a few weeks, the Chimaera will be fully combat-capable and will have finished all trials. Captain Tschel, you should know, has not been wasting time. His technical services have been preparing the ship for modernization for quite some time now. All they need to do is rebuild the internal compartments."
"And since that isn't required, according to Zion, the repair period is shortened," Ferrus continued.
"Not by much," Astarion cooled his fervor. "Launchers will need to be installed. The systems are already partially automated. As I recall, Vice Admiral Pellaeon, you ordered that the reduced crew of the Chimaera be used to man the Assault Hawk and certain other ships. Is that not so?"
"So you're even watching my orders, Colonel," Pellaeon squinted, giving his Triumvirate colleague a withering look.
"Cease," I demanded in a routine tone.
Explaining that such behavior is unacceptable for the Dominion's top officials is unnecessary.
These men reached their posts primarily thanks to their wit and talents.
However, the situation is quite illustrative.
"Colonel Astarion is doing his job," I reminded. "Including tracking activity within the state. There is nothing to be irritated about here, Vice Admiral."
"Yes, sir," there were notes of hurt in Gilad Pellaeon's voice. "I just don't like being watched over my shoulder without my knowledge. Forgive my outburst of emotion, sir. It will not happen again."
Well, let's hope.
It's obvious that Pellaeon feels uncomfortable in stressful situations when he is authorized to solve problems solo.
Commanding the Chimaera, he relied on me as well.
Acting individually, within his competence, he becomes an irritable grumbler.
Clearly, the volume of work as Chief of Staff, coordinating a large number of campaigns, is not comfortable for him.
I will keep that in mind.
Without the HoloNet, he has to center all military matters on himself, while much of the fleet doesn't know where I am or how to contact me.
Thus, the communication breakdown forces Gilad to perform some of my functions as well.
An obvious oversight on my part.
One could say that.
I, however, prefer to view it as a stress test for the Vice Admiral.
I need to know that he can handle affairs without my prompting.
Until now, I was confident he was managing.
It doesn't reduce the quality of work, but at the same time, it affects his emotional strain and general irritability.
A situation similar to what Zion is experiencing.
While Felix Ferrus entered the affairs of managing the Dominion gradually, as the state's territory expanded sector by sector, everything fell on Pellaeon at once.
And not just military command, but foreign policy as well.
Every treaty, every supply, negotiation—all of it passes through him and is resolved by him personally.
Unfortunately, we have no other option at the moment.
The intensity of the Dominion's actions must hasten the resolution of the situation with Palpatine.
And then we can "come alive" again and delegate only his profile tasks to him.
But not now.
"In that case, we will again use a compromise option," I said. "Colonel Astarion. Do you know how much time is needed to refit the current state of the Mark IIIs to the updated project?"
"If we are talking about a full replacement of technology and all systems from 'foreign' to 'ours', it's quite a long time, no less than two standard months," the counter-intelligence officer answered without hesitation. "But if we are talking about retrofitting the missing equipment, then a week. These timelines have also been calculated by the project author."
Judging by the fact that he relies on specific data and the shipbuilder Zion's position (yes, it would have been better to ask him personally, but he is not with us right now and calling him back is unwise), the information is quite plausible.
A time buffer should, of course, be taken into account.
But I don't think it will be particularly critical.
"So, we have several time costs," I summarized. "To convert Mark I and II Imperials to 'modern Mark IIIs'—let's continue to call them that for now—we need a month. To convert 'old' ones to 'new' with full system replacement—at least two standard months. To retrofit 'old' to 'new' levels—a standard week."
"Provided all components are in stock," Vice Admiral Pellaeon added.
"Are there problems with stocking our shipyards and repair slips?" I clarified with my deputy.
"No, sir," he stated. "But, I repeat, even a month, in the current reality—is too long a period. One cannot simply pull all our combat-capable regular fleet warships from combat tasks just to make them better."
He was tired.
"In that case, we will first of all engage in modernizing 'old' Mark IIIs to the 'new' state," I announced. "After which we return them to combat duty. Currently, do we have combat-capable ones and twos on the territory of the captured sectors?"
"Yes, sir," Pellaeon confirmed.
"Then let them continue their service," I concluded. "For a start, we will bring the updated Mark IIIs into service through conversion. The manned ships return to the front line. Then—we begin modernization of our ones and twos that have been seriously damaged in the current campaign. By reducing crews during modernization, the freed-up crews will be sent to the modernized 'new' Mark IIIs. By following this algorithm, we will obtain a qualitative update and expansion of the combat-capable Star Destroyer fleet before the second stage of the operation."
Judging by the way Pellaeon's eyebrow shot up, Ferrus frowned, and Astarion squinted slightly, none of the Triumvirate understood that clearing and subordinating the sectors along the Dominion's borders along the Hydian Way was not the final goal of the counter-offensive against the Zann Consortium's satellites.
"In the second stage, we will subordinate the sectors located between our new borders and right up to the Perlemian Trade Route with an exit to the Tion Cluster," I explained. "The southern border of the Dominion's territories should be the sectors located along the Salin Corridor and adjacent to these hyperspace routes. We have outposts there for expanding the operation. These are the Msst, Allied Tion, Vil, and Tion Hegemony sectors."
Vice Admiral Pellaeon's widening eyes and his clone's surprised look let me know that the reason we had engaged in operations in these directions had only just dawned on them.
"During the downtime of our ships, the creation of bases in the Aparo and Vil sectors must be completed to replenish the minefields on the Hydian Way and all hyperspace routes leading from the Corporate Sector," I continued.
"Yes, sir," Gilad said, saluting.
"Sir, permission to point out that we do not know at what point the Intergalactic Communication Center will resume its work," Astarion warned.
"The more we push the Dominion's borders, the more resources are needed to hold them," Grand Moff Ferrus joined in. "Providing such a territory with the Perimeter system is a huge expense. But even greater is the time cost of ensuring their security."
"By the time we need to concern ourselves with ensuring the security of the second-stage territories, we will already have all the Destroyers we are capable of modernizing to the maximum possible level in service," I said in a tone that brooked no argument.
"Sir, am I correct in understanding that two to four months were allocated for the seizure of these territories?" Vice Admiral Pellaeon inquired cautiously, his eyes virtually devouring me.
"To be perfectly precise, we must finish this operation by the end of the seventh month of the current year," I explained. "And no, Colonel Astarion, the HoloNet will not start working until we finish conquering the sectors allocated for the second stage. Or, in case of a change in the operational situation—until it is decided to allow the HoloNet to do so."
"I understand, sir," the Dominion's chief counter-intelligence officer blinked, "but allow me to ask—how will this be implemented?"
"By the forces of our intelligence," I explained. "Any attempt to restore the HoloNet will be thwarted."
How exactly—no explanation was needed.
All those present were adults and understood perfectly well what was at stake in such a situation.
"Sir, if we intend to subordinate all territories along the Salin Corridor and those adjacent to it, does that mean we will accept the still-pending proposal for an alliance from Moff Getelles of the Antemeridian sector?" Vice Admiral Pellaeon clarified. "Antemeridian is at the westernmost point of the Salin Corridor. Not located on it, but in the immediate vicinity of the Vorzyd and Niuri sectors. The Meridian, Antemeridian sectors… They are adjacent to the Perlemian Way in that region and partially cross it."
"Yes, we will have to deal with Getelles," I confirmed. "But not in the framework of an alliance."
"War?" Ferrus clarified. "Getelles's shard is an ally of Imperial Space."
"Furthermore, some territories you intend to seize were part of Greater Maldrood," Astarion said. "And as we now know, the Teradocs are not destroyed, and information about their defeat is Republic disinformation. The Teradocs still have planets in the part of the galaxy that interests us in their Union."
"And where the Teradocs are, Palpatine is," Vice Admiral Pellaeon stated in a warning tone. "If we conquer the sectors they claim, it will, firstly, expose our activity in this region, and secondly—it might provoke Palpatine to act prematurely."
As if I didn't understand that.
"Gentlemen," I addressed those present. "We are waging war, not practicing being convenient for everyone in the galaxy who wears an Imperial uniform. We have the capability to subordinate worlds and draw borders convenient for us. Look at the map," on my instruction, Tierce reproduced a hologram of the Tion Cluster. "Effectively, we control Allied Tion and the Tion Hegemony. But in key areas. As soon as we finish clearing those regions, we can talk about a threat to the enemy's transport supply. Subordinating Lianna will allow us to completely cut off the Alliance's supply lines along the Perlemian Trade Route."
Which meant only that we would immediately attract attention…
And that the Alliance would do everything in its power to break through such a transport blockade.
Using the Imperial shards as an example, they were already observing the consequences of what happens when the Dominion seizes important (though, until now, regional) hyperlanes and cuts off access to them.
The Imperials' attempts to ignore our warnings about closing borders and isolation had led to the loss of more than one Imperial Space transport ship.
Kane alone was not at a loss—his caravans went through the Dominion as before.
Only the ships' navigation computers were under the control of our patrols.
But that was in the past.
With the Grand Moff's death, the unspoken agreements had gone into the past irrevocably.
However, this specific feature allows us over time to extend it to the entire territory of the Dominion.
So the experiment with ensuring Kane's supplies had completely justified itself.
This tactic had been devised long ago, but no one had used it on such a large scale until now.
Transports reach a checkpoint at the Dominion's borders.
After which their navigation computers are reassigned to the convoy commander, who then leads them, as if on a leash, through our state's territory.
Any attempts to disrupt the flight and "drop out" of hyperspace are doomed to failure: tracking stations and interception posts are located within the Dominion by no means in an arbitrary order.
But, to Kane's credit, he had never used such a dirty trick, which could be used to drop spies right inside the Dominion, whose borders cannot be crossed without the authorities' knowledge.
And dropping something—from saboteurs to spy droids from ships during a hyperspace jump—makes no sense at all.
The Empire spent decades trying to develop a way in which part of a ship could be separated in hyperspace without destructive consequences.
Any object—ship, mine, buoy, droid—was destroyed by the merciless physics of hyperspace.
How and why is a billion-credit question.
No matter how hard local astrophysicists try to prove the opposite, frustratingly little is known about hyperspace.
If modern hyperdrive technologies didn't work on virtually the same principle gleaned from the technologies of ancient races like the Rakata, interstellar travel at superluminal speeds would have remained a mystery for a long time.
"We should have seized it immediately," Grand Moff Ferrus blurted out. "Moving the enterprises from Lianna took far more time and resources than its occupation would have required."
Yes, but the point of such maneuvers was by no means to seize the planet.
It was to acquire its industry in the part that interested us, after which to obtain permission to produce it without any coordination from the management of Santhe/Sienar Technologies.
And we did it.
Moreover—while avoiding major problems.
"In that case, we would have attracted unnecessary attention from Imperial Space and Palpatine," I countered. "Direct occupation of a pro-Imperial world would not have been easy for us."
"Furthermore," Astarion gazed at the map with undisguised interest, "at the time the Lusankya was implementing its combination, the situation with Allied Tion and the rest of the Tion Cluster sectors was not clear. Now, however, we can, without fearing anyone's reaction, advance our campaign within the Cluster with forces that are supposedly loyal solely to Moff Grunn's heir."
"I won't say that Imperial Space and the other shards accepted the fact of Lianna's Santhe Technologies production capacities being withdrawn 'easily'," the Grand Moff said. "Once it happened, they were hardly eager to sign contracts with us for the supply of TIE-series flight equipment once they realized Santhe no longer controlled the technology. And the reaction was even worse than after we seized the Ciutric Hegemony. When the Imperials discovered that we would be fulfilling the remainder of the equipment supply contracts, they were clearly not happy with such an outcome."
"I'll support that," Vice Admiral Pellaeon agreed. "At the moment, even if the Imperials are buying TIE fighters and bombers of the same series from us as the sole supplier of such technologies, they do so extremely reluctantly. Every deal—for the supply of a hundred fighters as well as a thousand—has to be discussed for a very long time with their side. Moreover, as I've already noted in the report, they do not seek to publicize trade with us."
Well, of course not.
"Because they prefer to reactivate old Sienar factories or produce the technology underground," Astarion explained.
"Or they are simply moving away from this type of fighter," Grand Moff Ferrus suggested. "But I cannot say that trading technologies that we don't use ourselves is unprofitable for us. At the moment, it is a tenth of our foreign economic profit. And the conversation now is not just about TIE fighters and bombers. But also about the sale of old Republic equipment. However, I am noting a decrease in profitability. Primarily from the Imperials. They have begun buying less from us."
"And they are taking heavy losses," Astarion said. "I would even say that in the area of starfighters and pilots, they are simply catastrophic."
"Then the reason the Empire is cutting purchases of our starfighter equipment is not entirely clear," Ferrus spread his hands.
"It's all clear there," Pellaeon said sadly.
Yes, but not to those who don't conduct negotiations with the Imperials.
"Imperial shards adopt any mass-produced fighter," I said. "War requires a large amount of material resources. At the moment, they can only obtain the equipment familiar to them on a large scale from us. But at the same time, such trade will lead to them strengthening our economy with their actions. Which, in turn, the resurrected Emperor no longer wants. To him, we are a target. Not of the first priority."
Thanks to the efforts of just one persuasive woman.
"Let's return to discussing the situation within the Dominion," I said, looking at the Grand Moff. "Do you have anything to add?"
It wasn't that I was against discussing their concerns with them.
But time is quite limited.
This free conversation let me understand exactly what my subordinates were preoccupied with and what their general level of awareness of the situation was.
As well as their attitude toward trading military equipment with potential enemies.
Unfortunately, we have already encountered pirate groups multiple times that were armed with modernized or produced by us obsolete or non-operational Dominion equipment from the era of the Galactic Empire or the Old Republic.
It is shot down and destroyed, of course, just like any other, even modern equipment.
But the very fact that the weapons we sold fall into the hands of criminals and are turned against us…
In this galaxy, it is not customary to set conditions when selling equipment.
In other words, having bought a Star Destroyer (if one manages to do so), its new owner can with a clear conscience open fire with the main battery at the enemy.
Or resell it to someone else.
On Earth, such deals have caveats.
Which I plan to introduce in the future.
When the Palpatine problem is solved.
***
"In general terms, sir," Grand Moff Ferrus took the floor, "we have begun work on the new territories in full. Forty percent of the captured sectors have already joined the Dominion on general terms. As before—primarily, poor worlds are interested in the opportunity to get out of the pit they are in. And developed ones—in markets for goods. Nothing we haven't encountered before. Yes, our political system raises some questions, but effectively the population traditionally doesn't care who rules them if there is work, earnings, and bombs aren't falling on their heads."
"Understood," I looked at Astarion. "Pirates, smugglers, mercenaries, remnants of the enemy's forces?"
"Present in most sectors," Astarion confirmed the established practice. "We dismantle, analyze, and make decisions on every case. First of all, the emphasis is on recruiting smugglers as private carriers in the new territories. Military actions in the galaxy have led to a redistribution of markets. Smugglers have been drained by bribes and 'evasive maneuvers'. They don't want to leave the expanded Dominion core, but they also understand what will happen to them in the absence of cooperation. I am certain that most of them can be won over to our side."
And thereby we will obtain, albeit a small, but still a base of carriers in the new territories who will help us with organizing the logistics of civilian supply for the new worlds.
Yes, we have an internal transport service.
But it too has its limits.
In particular—a lack of civilian pilots who can handle this without being detached from military service.
"Good," I nodded. "The regular fleet will provide you with all necessary support in destroying the enemy's remaining forces."
"Yes, sir," Colonel Astarion replied.
"In that case, I will no longer detain you and Grand Moff Ferrus," I said.
Both officers, nodding decorously in farewell, rose from the table and left the conference room.
Left "alone" with Vice Admiral Pellaeon, I turned my gaze to my deputy.
"Your report will be the most extensive, Vice Admiral," I stated.
"Precisely so, sir," Gilad agreed.
In that case, it was time to proceed to the most important part of the briefing in the current reality.
***
The twenty-four hours during which he had been observing the shuttle were expiring.
Not the slightest trace of who, according to Thrawn's idea, was supposed to show up here and… do something.
Though, it was obvious what—take the shuttle.
So that thanks to the beacons, the ship could be tracked to its destination.
The expectations were justified at the moment when Alexander had already begun to think that he was wasting his time here.
"Sir," he heard the excited voice of the duty officer, "there is a mark on the scanners. Another ship has appeared near the shuttle!"
Drowsiness and apathy vanished from the Relentless commander's face and body almost immediately.
"And now the fun begins," he grinned. "Information from the shuttle's scanners—to the terminal."
A few seconds later, an image of a lone Lambda appeared on the nearest projector device, with another starship nearby (relatively, of course).
"How interesting," Alexander squinted, studying the ship that had arrived at the rendezvous point.
Oh, yes, he was already familiar with such a ship type.
And had even fought them.
Not so long ago—on Kessel.
And no, it wasn't a pirate tub.
Nor even an Alliance starship.
"And it's not a Crusader-II corvette," the duty officer who had approached voiced his thoughts.
"How interesting," Alexander repeated, watching the giant (compared to the shuttle) approach the lone Lambda. "Establish contact with the droid in the shuttle. I want to know… No, belay that."
That would be a direct violation of orders.
And besides—he would reveal his position.
There was a better way.
"We'll wait for the buzz droids to activate," Alexander decided.
Their short dispatches, like snatches of signals, would clarify the situation as a whole.
"Buzz droids report that the corvette is trying to establish contact with the shuttle."
Identification procedure.
Yes, Alexander had guessed it might be so.
That's why he had decided to take precautions.
He had held out on Kessel for too long, racking his brains in tactical battles with other ship commanders and central computers, to miss even a trifle.
After all, he was playing out one of his tactics about which he had lectured at the Fleet Academy.
"The bait leading to a trap."
There was no escaping him.
Not today.
"Buzz droids requesting instructions…"
Yes, the dull brains now, having established contact with a communication source with a Dominion identifier, would demand instructions.
And only if one remained silent would they move to their base program, which was what was needed now.
"Ignore the buzz droids."
The shuttle was more important.
If the droid in its cockpit opened its mouth—they would understand everything.
"Enemy is scanning the shuttle. Droids requesting instructions again…"
"Ignore. No, stop."
The shuttle, which until now had been in a state of immobility, had begun its run for a hyperspace jump!
Apparently, it was about to start…
It was a good thing they weren't exactly brilliant on this ship—they were moving on the same course as the shuttle.
Meaning they were passing through the area filled with buzz droids.
Excellent.
Stupidity is not forgiven.
"Order to the buzz droids—attach to the corvette!"
Let them chase it for a bit.
Let them show what they have with them.
The order to the buzz droids would not go unnoticed.
But it was too late now.
Engaged in a fight—fight.
"A long-range transmission has been recorded from the Crusader!"
Oho.
So it turned out there was either another starship or a relay satellite.
Apparently—the former.
Because the latter—was too stupid.
Relays always leave too many "traces" from data transmission.
And, judging by who had arrived here, they clearly didn't want to "shine" their presence and negotiation data.
Speaking of which.
"Decryption?"
"Working… Yes, got it!" reported the cipher room. "It's a request for instructions. They report that they aren't getting a response to the information exchange."
Just as he thought—these were merely messengers.
The one in charge of all this—was perhaps on the other side of this message exchange.
"Sir, contact the Interdictor?" the duty officer asked, also mesmerized as he watched the arriving ship.
"Not yet. We observe. We make no unnecessary steps without my order. Is that clear, Lieutenant?"
The duty officer looked at his commander in confusion but nonetheless replied:
"Clear, sir. It's just…"
"Just that we are in an ambush and should pounce on the first passerby who approached the shuttle?" Mor clarified, his eyes fixed on the Crusader-II.
Apparently, it intended to dock with the Lambda.
It was clear why.
Or rather—so far it was just a guess.
Now there was a chance to test it in practice.
"The crew assumed our mission was battle," the duty officer stated with disappointment in his voice. "After so many weeks spent on Kessel… We'd like to 'stretch'."
Since nothing unusual (or usual, for that matter) was happening, Alexander turned his head toward his subordinate.
"Didn't you have enough of the last battle to 'stretch'?"
"The Guardian and the Venators did almost all the work for us," the lieutenant replied with all seriousness. "It's like we've been assigned as guards for this 'vegetable'. Against our will."
Mor's subordinates called Kessel a "vegetable" among themselves.
For its textured views, of course.
"Have they calculated the transmission vector?" Alexander asked.
"Yes, sir," the technician replied. "Three parsecs from us. Coordinates…"
They had quite a powerful communication system, it must be said.
Or rather, let's speak plainly—Imperial.
"Inform the navigators," Alexander licked his lips. "Ours and the Interdictor's."
"Yes, sir."
A sinister silence fell in the command center, not counting the sounds of sensors and scanners, as well as the technician's report of the Crusader closing with the Dominion shuttle.
"We are recording another long-range transmission!"
"From the Crusader?!" Alexander was surprised.
Who else was it reporting to, other than command?
"No, sir. The transmission is addressed to it."
"Understood. Can you decrypt it?"
"Unfamiliar encoding. The decrypter failed. We are working on it ourselves," the cipher department reported.
Bad-bad-bad.
The silence grew darker until everyone was startled by the long signal of the danger warning system.
The operator sitting at the console raised his head:
"Sir, they've opened fire on the shuttle!"
"Are they trying to damage it?" Alexander clarified.
"Destroy it!"
Well, now it was clear what response they had received.
"The droid is maneuvering, but the ship won't last long," his duty officer warned.
"Interdictor to move to the updated coordinates! Block communication as soon as they exit hyperspace. So not a single bantha poodoo can make a peep on the air!" Alexander ordered. "We—jump right after. Destroyer systems to battle readiness! Jump as soon as we receive the vector for deploying the gravity wells."
Well, that was it.
Thrawn's plan had turned out not to be good enough.
No one had even tried to inspect the shuttle.
They contacted via communication systems.
Didn't receive an answer.
Because they need a person, not a machine!
Perhaps Thrawn himself!
***
The droid's silence had led the enemy to begin doubting that the one who should have arrived had indeed reached the meeting place.
Clearly, it had been scanned to check for life signs on board.
And after finding none…
No, they hadn't found any.
They shouldn't have—Alexander had ordered the shuttle pilot to start the main engines.
Now, during the execution of evasive maneuvers, even the best scanners wouldn't be able to scan the ship and establish the presence of a droid on it.
And now…
"Apparently, they intend to destroy it with their guns," the duty officer looked at Alexander. "They could have launched fighters in pursuit. Why aren't they doing it?"
"Because there are no fighters on board that ship," Alexander murmured under his breath, smiling contentedly.
"Sir?"
Mor, overcoming the tingling in his body, rose from his chair, swayed slightly, and stepped toward the holoprojector:
"See for yourselves."
He pointed to the slowly but steadily decreasing distance between the two starships.
"We already have starships of this type," he explained. "The droid's maneuvering not only disrupted their scanning but would have forced them to launch fighters if they had any. No one is going to chase a whole corvette for something that a pair of any starfighters could do."
"If they had wanted it whole, they certainly wouldn't have opened fire to kill."
"Sensed a trap," Alexander said dryly. "Thrawn miscalculated, and now…"
A lone laser beam connected the shuttle with the corvette for a moment.
After which only debris remained in place of the former.
But it had been formed as a result of such a powerful explosion that it was visible even from the Relentless's position.
"Sir, we are receiving information from the Interdictor," the duty officer fell silent, trying to ensure he was interpreting the data correctly. "Sir, there's a Keldabe-class battleship there…"
"Interesting," Alexander said calmly for the umpteenth time. "We go after them. The Interdictor's task is to hold the ship until our arrival and keep it in radio silence. We'll solve the other problems."
"Sir, but what about the corvette," the duty officer stuttered, pointing at the hologram where the enemy's damaged starship was displayed.
Judging by what the buzz droids were transmitting—it had taken a fair beating.
But everything can be repaired if you know how.
"Tell the buzz droids to shut down their hyperdrive and main sublight engines," Alexander ordered. "We'll pick them up on the way back. Since we can't track them, we'll get information from prisoners."
And he was betting by no means on the Crusader's crew.
Those were merely messengers who were supposed to take the shuttle on board and deliver it to their command.
And it was to that command that Alexander was now headed.
He needed someone who could string more than two words together.
And it seemed he was on the Keldabe.
The Relentless jumped.
In a few minutes, it would be there…
"And how did Thrawn miscalculate so badly?" the duty assistant grumbled nearby. "Did he really think someone would take this ship on board and deliver it somewhere…"
"Thrawn didn't make a mistake," Alexander said sharply, gritting his teeth. "He packed this shuttle with explosives to blow to the Hutts anyone who tried to take it. And they would have taken it—if I hadn't intervened with the buzz droids."
Likely, those on the corvette decided the shuttle was contacting someone.
The buzz droids' transmissions and the Relentless's response were perceived as a trap.
Which it had been from the start.
While he was lecturing on tactics, Thrawn was implementing strategy.
Lure the enemy into negotiations.
Hand them a booby-trapped shuttle that would clearly (one way or another) explode as soon as it was taken on board an alien ship.
And then the one who sent the corvette to the meeting should have arrived at the scene of the fallout.
The one who possesses more information than the idiots sent on the Crusader.
Because influential members of crime syndicates don't fly to meetings on corvettes personally.
But on Keldabe-class battleships—most certainly.
Thrawn intended to blow up the shuttle when it was docked to the ship that came for it.
And then the "customer" would have appeared.
Whom Alexander was supposed to attack.
No, there are simply no civilized words!
Why couldn't he have said that at once?!
"Arrival in ten seconds!"
"Prepare for battle," Alexander said. "Upon exit, we drop the escort corvette and attack based on the Interdictor's target designation."
"Sir, but communication won't be available while radiation is on the hull…"
"Yep," Mor chuckled. "But they'll be shooting at the target. And so will we. Point-blank range."