Nine years, five months, and thirty days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or forty-fourth year, five months, and thirty days after the Great Resynchronization.
"All damage has been fully repaired, supplies and fuel loaded, crew, contingent, and air wing replenished, Grand Admiral," said the hologram of Captain Pellaeon, looking at me from the projector plate of the device built into my desk during the flagship's repairs on Tangrene. Several days of crash repair work — and the ship is ready to continue service. Unlike most of the Star Destroyers brought to the base. "The Chimaera is ready for combat operations!"
"Are our guests aboard my flagship?" I inquired.
"Yes, sir!" Gilad reported. "Lieutenant Colonel Astarion and three of his best subordinates, Chief Engineer Reyes, as well as one hundred engineers and two hundred technicians, along with the stormtroopers selected by Major Tierce are on board, sir."
"Set course for Wayland," I said without looking up from reading the Delta Source reports. As always — mostly gossip and chatter, but there are also some extremely interesting messages. I'll deal with those later. "Inform Major Himran that I want to see him in half an hour. That will be all."
"Aye, sir!" The hologram saluted and dissolved. A few seconds passed before a slight, barely noticeable vibration of the deck signaled that the Star Destroyer had broken the light barrier.
Leaning back in my chair, I looked at my new adjutant standing before me. Lieutenant Jade was no longer suitable for this role — she would soon begin independent work, and her duties as my adjutant would become merely part of her cover legend, nothing more.
"The new uniform suits you, Major Tierce," I observed, assessing the impression of Grodin's naval attire as he stood at the entrance to my cabin, clutching the bright red uniform of an Imperial Guardsman that the former stormtrooper TR-889 had worn at his previous post.
A blank helmet with a horizontal visor, a red mantle and black suit underneath, a cuirass made of super-durable material, and a force pike — attributes well-known throughout the galaxy.
An Imperial Guardsman in battle attire.
"Thank you, sir," in former times it would have been unthinkable for a guardsman to speak to his master. But times change. "But the color is clearly unsuitable."
"Minor details that can be resolved later," I said. "I'm curious that, having decided to end your service, you still kept your battle attire."
"Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to prove who I am," Tierce said. "Imperial Guard armor cannot be forged."
"We won't need to," I declared. "On Wayland, inside Mount Tantiss, there are workshops capable of producing both stormtrooper armor and Guardsman armor."
"Not to mention the warehouses filled with that stuff," the major noted.
"You are well-informed about the plans for the Mount," I observed.
"During your time there, I had the opportunity to study it," my new adjutant stated. "The warehouses have enough uniforms for ten legions of stormtroopers and five hundred Guardsmen."
"More won't be needed," I noted. "You've done a great deal of work, Major, these past few days. Well, now I want to hear the reason why you arranged for the transfer of several dozen stormtroopers from across my fleet into your unit."
"They previously served in the 501st Legion, sir," Tierce said.
"Vader's Fist?" I was surprised.
"Those who survived these five years and were within reach, sir," the major replied. "After Vader killed the Emperor, the 501st Legion was disgraced in the eyes of the Empire's high command. The Guardsmen and crew members who escaped from the second Death Star provided enough indirect and direct evidence to form an understanding of the situation — knowing Darth Vader's power and ferocity, young Luke Skywalker could not have killed the Emperor in his presence. At least not alone. Either Vader did it himself, or he helped his son. The fact of their kinship was also discovered, but those who held that secret are either in the grave or prefer to remain silent. Those who led the Empire after Palpatine's death were not idiots — they understood that publicizing such information would only lead to a split among Imperials. The 501st was almost completely wiped out when the Executor rammed the battle station's hull, but those who remained on duty elsewhere, those who survived — they were stripped of their insignia and the legion was disbanded, the soldiers reassigned to other units. No one who knew the truth about the Emperor's death would ever speak of it — otherwise it would have destroyed the Empire much sooner. The reason for the disbandment was buried under a pile of bureaucracy, and now hardly anyone knows exactly why it happened. It was done quickly and under the strictest secrecy. Most of them are already dead — especially Jango Fett's clones. But I was able to find some of them and facilitate their transfer to my unit."
"Well," I squinted. "Recreating the 501st Legion will be a major ideological success for us."
"As will the appearance of an Imperial Guardsman beside you," Grodin said, a note of displeasure in his voice.
"I remember you were opposed to this initiative, Major," I stated. "But right now, your wishes don't matter much. You will become a donor for cloning a new model of commander stormtroopers, and your soldiers will serve as matrices for creating stormtrooper fighters. While your clones command units, you will remain with me as adjutant and officer for special assignments."
"So I understand you'll use my genetic material to create your own Imperial Guard?" the adjutant inquired.
"I'll use it as I see fit, Major." The guardsman needed to be put in his place. He already knows he surpasses the other stormtroopers under my command by ten percent, making him the best candidate for cloning. And given the discovered laboratories of Mount Tantiss and the cloning data there, the major doesn't need to know how heavily his clones will be modified. Nor he himself. Nor many others now flying to Wayland aboard the Chimaera. "Report on the state of the fleet, Major."
"Captain Dorja on the Implacable reports that technicians have brought another eighty dreadnoughts of the Katana Fleet to operational condition," Tierce launched into his report without preamble. "He and the commander of the Bellicose, Captain Aban, are ready to escort these ships to Tangrene immediately, as Captain Harbid's Death's Head and Captain Brandei's Judicator have already arrived with their escorted Star Galleons and have begun repairs on another forty ships."
"Send a refusal," I ordered. "Let them wait for the arrival of Captain Astorias's Stormhawk and Captain Mor's Relentless and continue repairs."
Those two Star Destroyers constitute the last escort pair, which will deliver the necessary spare parts and personnel to the Katana Fleet's staging area to complete repairs on the final fifty starships. Immediately after that, one hundred seventy heavy Dreadnought-class cruisers, supported by six Imperial I-class Star Destroyers, the same number of CR90 corvettes in the capital ships' main hangars, and eighteen self-propelled three medium Strike-class cruisers and a dozen Tartans — which I temporarily requisitioned from the Morshdine sector defense fleet, not counting three dozen Star Galleons — all military transports I have on hand — will depart for shipyards for repair and modernization. These will take place on Tangrene, Rendili, and Bestine IV, under the guard of Star Destroyers in the second and third cases. Although these planets declared their personal support for me after several days of negotiations, their loyalty is bought with money alone and therefore unreliable in the future. As is the loyalty of those imperial sector rulers and planets who decided to show their attention to Tangrene after rumors spread through Imperial Space not only about my acquisition of captured ships but also about the capture of the Katana Fleet. Fortunately, the latter is still mostly speculation, but that will soon spread beyond the Empire and become public knowledge — which is why I have to move all the ships from the anchorage at once.
I'm not ready to trust people who only became interested in me when I waved money in front of their noses. And big money at that, which will pay for repair and modernization work. Not to mention that I had to shell out a considerable amount to purchase small craft from Krennel. He effectively got the cost of an entire Star Destroyer from me. In total, out of half a billion, after all these expenses, I have a little less than seventeen million left — and that's accounting for the sale of trophies from the Ord Pardron base. That portion of income is no longer "working" Moff Ferrus sold absolutely everything I delivered to him after my first campaign, netting about another hundred million beyond the existing half-billion. Also, the goods that Talon Karrde left on Myrkr with Mara Jade as "severance" have been sold. Next up is the sale of "freaks" pirate fighters and their other property, obtained from the ambush at Rugosa. But the estimated one hundred seventy million from trophy sales is not the biggest number in modern realities. That, like the metal stocks obtained from the raid on Nkllon, will gradually go to fleet maintenance, technical specialists, fuel purchases, tibanna, uniforms, and other necessities. On Tangrene, volunteers are currently being formed and trained to replenish the regular army, whose numbers under my command are small — just over twenty thousand. And that's with nearly a hundred stormtroopers, most of whom are currently stationed aboard the Katana Fleet ships. And they will remain there until the ships are finished. Considering that each Star Destroyer should have a standard legion — nearly ten thousand per ship, not to mention the other fleet vessels — I have to start cloning stormtroopers as well, not to mention technical specialists. Supplies — at least armor — will last for nearly another hundred thousand stormtroopers; that's already an army. And I still need small arms, thermal detonators, baradium, nergon-14, tibanna, and so on — for both stormtroopers and the regular army. That dictates more and more expenses.
However, on the issue of equipping the army with everything necessary, I have some thoughts at the moment. If it works out, the need to clone stormtroopers will disappear after the recreation of the 501st Legion. If not... Well, it will be sad. But not critical.
First and foremost, I need to resolve fleet issues; they are always the priority — after all, without a fleet, operations outside the sector are unthinkable. Currently, my campaign is limited to space combat, while ground battles are merely a "necessary evil." However, in the future, I will have to pay attention to those aspects as well.
First of all, I need to replenish my financial standing.
Money is flowing like a river. But this fact doesn't particularly upset me — for the first time since the Ubiqtorate left the Morshdine sector, the base's warehouses, arsenals, and other storage facilities are filled to capacity. As much as the Imperial Ruling Council might oppose it, on my orders a huge amount of spare parts for Imperial Star Destroyers and my fleet ships have been taken from Bilbringi. Well, this is likely the last such "raid" I'm not sure I can pull off even one more.
But I've acquired high-quality spare parts from the manufacturer. And from now on, all ships without exception will have the standard Imperial fleet second-class hyperdrive.
However, the Katana Fleet has plenty of interesting and promising things for my fleet — from Mark-2 model droidekas and experimental (for their time) AT-RT walkers, to schematics for automating work systems. All of this, along with nearly two hundred fourth-class hyperdrives for ships six hundred meters long, which will come into my possession after modernization, is undoubtedly a boon that could both increase budget revenue through sales on the black or regular market and, in principle, be useful in the future. Pity that the Rendili Shipyards have no desire to acquire this "ancient technology sample." Well, at least I know where to place them. And I'll do it as soon as I have the funds.
Baron D'Asta, who arrived a few days ago, congratulated me on my victory, presented several CR90 corvettes — bringing the total number under my command to thirty — provided me with three thousand pilots from his sector (for which I am immensely grateful), and an enormous quantity of spare parts and damaged TIE-series small craft, confiding that he had cleared out absolutely everything he had in his warehouses. But he refused additional funding, citing urgent matters in his sector. Well, at least he helped in other material ways.
And by refusing to accept a Mon Calamari star cruiser as a gift, he confirmed my suspicions — he doesn't want trophies from the Hast shipyards. He wants direct revenge for the insults inflicted on him and the loss of political influence. And this in turn makes it clear that the baron has not been honest with me — he, like the other Remnants, simply wants someone to do their dirty work. Well, I'll remember that.
But I need money right now. And that is one of the reasons the Chimaera is heading to Wayland. It's time to properly "shake down" Palpatine's treasury and remove everything that can be sold from among the jewels and cultural artifacts.
"Has the Imperious already arrived at Linuri to relieve the Nemesis?" I asked a new question.
"Yes, Grand Admiral," the major confirmed. Unlike Pellaeon, the new adjutant kept all information in his memory. And in three days of service, he hadn't made a single mistake, which is a credit to his professional training. And makes me wonder whether I should visit the planet Yinchorr, where the Imperial Guard base is located, and try to recruit a few more of Major Tierce's comrades into my service, if any are still there. However, a thought strikes me that Grodin is probably the only guardsman smart enough not to continue serving a dead man. Still, I suspect that base might still contain data on guardsman training or something else useful. At the very least, searching the planet is necessary. Because in Palpatine's files, which I found in Mount Tantiss, that data is absent — another discovered fact of data purging by Palpatine's agents.
It's good that the file with the notorious "Caamas Document" hasn't been tampered with. But using it now would unequivocally destroy the New Republic. Well, that ultimate weapon will have its turn — as part of my backup plan, which I haven't even disclosed to Mara Jade.
"Have the shipyards provided information on when the Nemesis will be out of repair?" I clarified.
"It needs three days to arrive from Linuri to Tangrene, one day for repairs and replenishment of losses, after which the ship will be fully at your disposal," the major reported briskly.
So — in four days the ship will be operational. We need two days to reach Wayland — and part of the route will have to be traveled outside the hyperspace routes, which will eat up even more time.
"Contact Captain Schneider," I ordered. "After repairs are complete, he is to proceed to Wayland for further instructions."
"Will be done, sir," Grodin Tierce snapped.
"You will have an assignment, Major." I looked at the man. He watched me expectantly. "Contact Blintuin and arrange a meeting."
"Of course, sir," the major said with a restrained smile. "But I consider it my duty to inform you that Colonel Johans has not maintained any contact with any of the Imperial Remnants for a long time. There is a high probability that he will ignore your message as well. As Carida did."
"In that case, we will strike Colonel Johans and his Hell's Hammers off the list of potential allies," I said calmly. "Same as Carida. Nothing more."
"As you command, sir," Tierce did not argue. "May I proceed to carry out your orders immediately?"
"Permission granted," I said.
After the former Imperial Guardsman closed the door to my cabin, I glanced once more at the Delta Source report. According to it, just a day ago in the Imperial Palace on Coruscant, a number of extremely interesting points were discussed. From Admiral Ackbar's report on what happened in the Rugosa system, to the question of whether the recent misfortunes befalling the New Republic could be the work of the inhabitants of the planet Blintuin in the Seswenna sector, near Eriadu. An Imperial planet, like its entire system, living under Imperial law and under the control of Imperial Colonel Johans — commander of the 112th Separate Tank Regiment "Hell's Hammers." A legend of the Imperial regular army's armored forces, so firmly entrenched in his home system that the New Republic doesn't even think about storming them. They simply don't want to lose millions of soldiers in a war against those who, from the very first days of the Clone Wars to the present, have been professionals at their craft. And they have instilled such love from the local population that it's hard to find a "civilian" there who doesn't know how to handle weapons or equipment at the level of a regular soldier. That is... undoubtedly a plus — it means the New Republic won't dare attack that planet anyway. And Blintuin will certainly survive an invasion by the Reborn Emperor — if it even participates. As I understood from intelligence reports, Colonel Johanson has no desire to participate in the infighting of the Imperial Remnants, preferring to wait until a leader appears who will bring order to this mess. The Imperial Civil War is the most detestable of all occupations for him. Not what these brave tankers were taught and not what they were trained for.
The Hell's Hammers know only one proper occupation where they can truly apply all their skills — destroying the enemy on the ground. And they are simply magnificent at it.
It's logical that I need them already now, in the near future.
* * *
"Leia, I'm sure this is a bad idea," Luke said pessimistically, but nevertheless kept walking alongside his sister, her husband Han Solo, and their mutual friend Lando Calrissian. But unlike the young Jedi, the latter two were silent, frowning and exchanging glances. They understood perfectly well that it was pointless to try to dissuade the Alderaanian princess from doing what she had decided to do. "General Cracken is in a meeting...""
"I'm sure he'll spare us a few minutes," Organa-Solo said coldly, approaching the appropriate door. But before she could touch the panel, the bulkhead slid aside and a young man in a flight suit burst out of the cabin like a man stung. Casting a furious glare at the four of them, he muttered something under his breath and then strode off quickly, not even noticing that he had jostled Han and Lando with his shoulders.
"What was that?" Solo asked, staring after him in bewilderment.
"What did you expect?" Calrissian chuckled humorlessly. "You took off the general's rank—now even an X-wing pilot doesn't give a damn about you."
"Corran, wait!" Luke started after the grim-faced man, but he had already disappeared into the crowd of crew members bustling about the deck. Disappointedly shaking his head, the Jedi returned to his friends.
"Was that Horn?" Leia asked. Her brother pressed his lips together and nodded silently.
"That same Rogue whose wife is missing and who's left with only an insufferable father-in-law flying around on a Star Destroyer?" Lando showed off his knowledge.
"The very same," Skywalker sighed. "I can feel he's furious."
"So that's why he greeted me so Corellianly," Han blurted. But no one appreciated the joke. Leia shook her head disapprovingly and stepped into the compartment. The men exchanged glances and followed her. "Anyway... I only met the one who could have been my father-in-law once, and he froze me in carbonite. Luke, don't give me that look! I remember that he's your father, but that doesn't mean I'll forget being shipped across half the galaxy like a container of perishable vegetables."
As expected, it was a small room near the main hangar of the Mon Calamari Star Cruiser. It was used for pilot briefings, and judging by the dozen sullen beings who were literally "glowing with happiness" heading out, one had just ended. In the narrow corridor, it wasn't easy to squeeze past. And no one wanted to give way. While the pilots preferred to step aside and press against the wall for Leia, with her regal bearing and gait, they took it out completely on her companions.
"Luke," after a sturdy Twi'lek walked over Han's feet, not forgetting to crush them with the prosthetic that replaced one of his legs below the knee — "remind me, you helped form Rogue Squadron, didn't you?"
"Back then it was called Red Squadron, and entirely different beings were flying in it," the Jedi grumbled without malice.
"So it's useless to complain to you about these flyboys' lack of manners and respect for Alliance heroes?" Calrissian clarified, as a Shistavanen brute unceremoniously pushed him out of the way.
"You can find Wedge and whisper a few choice words to him," the Jedi suggested.
"Then I might get carried away and tear the kid's ears off," Han retorted, looking after the last of the Rogues. Yes, now that he could see the patches on their flightsuit sleeves, there was no doubt. Only Rogue Squadron had a chevron showing twelve tiny X-wings radiating outward from a circle at the center of the insignia.
"I'll hold him back, don't worry," Lando said. After exchanging a glare with the sturdy Twi'lek, he decided this wasn't his fight and pretended the guy hadn't pinned him against the wall.
"Don't hold me back!" Han protested. "Wedge has long deserved a good dressing-down for the lack of discipline in his unit."
"And I'm not going to hold you!" Calrissian smiled.
"In that case, it's fine," the Corellian returned the smile.
Finally, they reached the central part—an amphitheater with an active holoprojector in the center, beside which Leia was already standing, along with Wedge Antilles (with his hair equally disheveled) and General Cracken.
General Airen Cracken.
And above the projecting plate flickered a hologram of Admiral Ackbar.
"Well, the very light of the New Republic all in one place," Lando couldn't resist joking.
The chief intelligence officer of the New Republic glanced their way and grimaced as if he had a toothache. Actually, no—that was his usual expression.
After exchanging greetings with those present, Solo walked up to Antilles and literally pinned him to the spot with a stare.
"Your Rogues have gotten completely out of hand—they nearly trampled us in the corridor," he complained.
"They had a very bad day," Wedge said without a hint of humor. "All of us did."
"We just arrived," Han said. "We were finishing up our mutual work in the Sluis sector while you flew to Rugosa to check your admirals' assumptions," Solo joked. "But I have to say—Naboo isn't so bad."
"Captain Solo," Admiral Ackbar interrupted him. "Today is not the time for jokes."
"What happened?" Han spread his hands. "Everyone's alive and..."
"Not everyone," Admiral Cracken said hoarsely. "The trap at Rugosa failed."
"You said there'd be no jokes," Lando frowned. "How could an ambush with eight capital ships fail?"
"Especially when both of you took part in planning the operation," Han looked first at Ackbar, then at Cracken. The Republic military men looked away. "You're kidding me?! Don't tell me someone outmaneuvered us again?!"
"Exactly that," Ackbar said with a groan. "The trap for the Imperials in the Rugosa system turned out to be a trap for our forces."
"We trusted Corran Horn's father-in-law and lost," Cracken added grimly. "The enemy destroyed the Invids' fleet, Booster Terrik's fleet. The fate of our two ships that were sent ahead of the main force is also unknown. In orbit of Rugosa, at the meeting point—the wreckage of the Skat-Pulsar. And at a considerable distance from there—a real slaughter."
"So much scrap that scavengers will get rich," Wedge said. "If they don't run into more Imperial surprises."
"What happened?" Luke asked quietly.
"The fleet holding at Naboo was supposed to launch as soon as it received confirmation from Captain Yonka," Ackbar explained. "They didn't receive a single message within ten minutes of the operation's start. I ordered them to move to the location. We arrived fifty minutes after Yonka and the cruiser arrived."
"Just over an hour had passed since the battle began," Cracken added. "In that time, the Imperials destroyed both fleets and clearly finished off our ships."
"Apparently they were pulled out of hyperspace by an interdictor cruiser," Antilles continued. "And they had to fight. The result—from the wreckage we were able to identify almost all of Booster's ships and those he listed as part of Leonia Tavira's fleet. But no large ships were found. Only the wreckage of a couple of Imperial-design cruisers, and two more like them—heavily disfigured."
"I sent teams aboard those ships to retrieve data," Cracken said. "The ships exploded. We lost over two hundred people—dropship crews, boarding parties, technicians. Naturally—no data obtained."
"And what does Terrik say?" Solo inquired.
"He's disappeared," Cracken said. "Like Yonka, like Tavira, and the other large starships. Everything else—wreckage."
"So I take it Corran's wife hasn't been found either?" Luke clarified.
"No word from her," Cracken said. "Or from Captain Yonka or any other participants in the operation. No survivors at the battle site. Even damaged small craft—only wreckage."
"Well then, it's clear why Horn is losing it," Calrissian nodded understandingly.
"I understand him," Han admitted unexpectedly. "If that happened to Leia and the kids... Oof!"
Receiving a sensitive jab in the ribs from a sharp elbow, the former smuggler met his wife's gaze and acknowledged that this battle he had lost decisively.
"So we don't even know who it was?" Luke asked.
"Not for certain," Cracken confirmed. "We can only assume that the same task force that destroyed our sector fleet in the Dufilvian sector and struck our bases in the Sluis sector was involved in this."
"And robbed Nkllon," Calrissian interjected.
"Lando," Solo grimaced. "Can you maybe not bring up your Nomad right now? You've talked about nothing else the whole way."
"I lost the most precious thing!" the entrepreneur protested.
"Technically speaking, you lost your conscience back on Bespin when you handed us over to Vader," Han said thoughtfully.
"I told you—they arrived before you, and I had no choice!" Calrissian said with emphasis.
"With all due respect, the loss of the Nomad is the least of our problems right now," Admiral Ackbar noted.
"So when your fleet supply officers were groveling at my feet begging me to sell them metals at a big discount, you cared about the Nomad," Lando said resentfully. "But now that it's gone, there's no need to remember it."
"Mister Calrissian," the New Republic's chief intelligence officer cut him off. "The government has already told you—we've put you in line for compensation for losing your business to Imperial actions. None of us can do more than that!"
"Yeah, yeah," the entrepreneur snorted. "But offering general's rank and asking to go hunt Imperials—that you can do?"
"But that way you'd settle scores with them," Antilles said casually.
"Or vanished like Yonka and his battle group," Calrissian retorted.
"Lando, don't get worked up," Han asked his friend. "Let's go somewhere, play some sabacc, I'll win you a planet or two, and you can do whatever you want with them. Deal?"
"Not the best idea," the Alderaanian princess said. "Darling, last time you won a planet in sabacc, we found Warlord Zsinj on it, who was thought dead, his Executor-class Super Star Destroyer the Iron Fist, which was thought destroyed, and the planet was home to Dathomirian witches eager to conquer the galaxy..."
"And in the end you had to give Dathomir to the witches living there," Calrissian reminded with a smile. "Friend, thanks for the offer, but I'll pass. I'm not that desperate."
"That's what I'm saying—maybe you'll stop playing sabacc for planets?" Organa-Solo smiled.
"As if that's something bad," Han muttered.
"They're just afraid that next time you win a planet, you'll find the Emperor with an entire fleet to boot. And we don't have a spare Darth Vader in stock," Wedge smiled without malice. Looking at the suddenly tense Skywalker, he added: "Luke, sorry, I didn't mean to offend."
"It's fine," the young Jedi smiled tightly. "So, what do we do now?"
"Mon Mothma is recalling us to Coruscant," Ackbar said with a heavy sigh. "There's unrest in the Senate. We fear that all these attacks are the beginning of a war with the Empire."
"Not that there's no logic to that," Calrissian scratched his chin. "They probed our defenses, delivered a couple of serious strikes..."
"The New Republic won't collapse from losing one or two fleets," General Cracken noted. "We're not a colossus with feet of clay."
"Actually, Admiral Ackbar just said the Senate is in hysterics," Han observed.
"I didn't say that, Captain Solo," the Mon Calamari grimaced.
"From what I know of our Senate, they're already shaking with fear," Solo remarked. "Lando's right. These attacks are just the beginning. First they attacked remote outposts—probed our defenses, gauged our reaction. Then they struck harder—drew blood. After that, they diverted attention from Nkllon, a source of rare metals, and destroyed our bases near Sluis Van, then lured our ships into a trap and vanished into space. Knowing Imperial delicacy, if our military people are still alive, they're being cut to pieces and interrogated for everything they know."
"We'll take care of protecting state secrets," General Cracken waved a hand.
"From what I've heard, you can't even secure the convoys," Lando taunted the intelligence chief. "How many have been robbed already? Three? Five? Ten?"
"Forty-one," Wedge said grimly, ignoring the intelligence officer's "fierce glare." "General, this information is all over the HoloNet. Any schoolkid can find it and see that we're getting our thrusters kicked everywhere."
"Forty-one convoys," Luke shook his head. "What did they get?"
"Construction and medical equipment," Antilles continued, still ignoring General Cracken. "Weapons, ammunition. And the latter—strictly Imperial pattern."
"Do we have that?" Han wondered.
"And plenty of it," Admiral Ackbar admitted. "The Coruscant sector was essentially surrendered to us without a fight. On Anaxes, the stockpiles contain enough to arm ten million soldiers. We use those weapons and equipment to supply units on the galactic rim."
"And you're helping the Imperials arm themselves just a little," Calrissian smirked. "General Cracken, are you sure your intelligence people are actually doing their job? It feels like your department leaks like an old roof in the rain."
"Unlike you, Mister Calrissian, we screen them before hiring them," the intelligence officer shot back.
"Actually, Lando is right," Skywalker unexpectedly declared.
"What do you mean?" Admiral Ackbar blinked his enormous eyes.
"I'm right?" Calrissian was surprised. "I was joking."
"But there's a grain of truth in that joke," the Jedi noted. "You said the Imperials are hunting convoys with specific cargo, right? But how do they find them?"
"All it takes is positioning an interdictor ship or cruiser in the hyperspace lane and pulling ships out," the Mon Calamari said.
"But in that case, shouldn't there be reports of Imperial ships on hyperspace routes, or disappearances of other ships besides convoys?" Han asked.
"There aren't," General Cracken stated. "Only convoys."
"If you say that these coincidences didn't seem random to you, I'll definitely file a complaint with Mon Mothma," Calrissian laughed. "General, the Imperials know exactly where your ships will be!"
"Impossible!" Cracken objected. "Routes are developed and discussed only in the Imperial Palace. And there are no extra beings there—everyone has been vetted a hundred times and is beyond doubt."
"What about listening devices?" Han suggested. "It's Palpatine's residence, even if former. Surely the old scoundrel didn't spy on anyone or eavesdrop?"
"We searched every room in the palace—no listening devices," the general stated. "Yes, you're right, we're working on the possibility of a leak. We've concluded that someone is reporting the routes to the Imperials directly at the spaceports. As soon as we find out who, we'll be able to stop these attacks."
"Maybe try a decoy convoy?" Han suggested. "Documents will show what the Imperials want, they'll catch the convoy, and then our X-wings will pour out of the holds..."
"Captain Solo, if you want to teach us how to fight—the general's rank is always ready for you," the chief intelligence officer declared.
"I'm afraid the New Republic doesn't have enough money to meet my salary demands," Han noted, and immediately received a disapproving look from his wife. "But finding the informant is absolutely necessary. You said yourselves that there aren't enough ships for freight. And here we have forty-one convoys! No one here thinks the Imperials just get lucky every time they set their nets and get what they want?"
"No, no one believes in coincidence," Admiral Ackbar stated. "For now, all we can do is increase the number of escort ships in the convoys."
"Well, hope they don't get taken the same way as in the Rugosa system," Lando snorted. "They even stole my diggers and spare parts from the warehouses."
"Seems like they've run low on funds," Wedge joked. "But one way or another, they need to be stopped."
"Crack down on those we don't even know about?" Luke clarified. "I'm afraid that's impossible even for the Force."
"The Provisional Government has another proposal," Leia said, exchanging a glance with Admiral Ackbar. "Actually, that's why I'm here."
"Mon Mothma didn't tell me anything," the Mon Calamari noted.
"Yes, she shifted that responsibility onto me," the princess sighed heavily. "Everyone on Coruscant is in a panic—they're afraid the attacks will continue and even increase. The Bothans are tearing their fur out and demanding even more ships for their defense..."
"But there's an entire fleet—one of our four—based at Bothawui!" Cracken grimaced. "Where do they need more?"
"Fey'lya has an insatiable appetite," Wedge snorted. "I recall he demanded Rogue Squadron as an escort for his yacht."
"The councilor doesn't think small," Lando assessed. "Leia, so what's the proposal?"
"There's money from trade in the treasury," she said. "Two billion. Mon Mothma suggested I get back in touch with Talon Karrde and try to buy all the necessary information from him to crack down on the Imperials."
"Ah," Calrissian threw up his hands in mock anger. "So you have a budget to throw credits at an information broker, but not to rebuild the Nomad?"
"Sorry, Lando," Organa-Solo smiled apologetically.
"Some kind of messed-up democracy we have," Han grimaced.
"But wasn't Karrde one of the participants in the attack on Rugosa?" Wedge clarified. "Booster said he'd bring his entire fleet."
"Let's hope he survived," Leia said. "And that he has a motive to get even. Then we might save some money."
"If what I've heard about 'The Claw' is true," Calrissian muttered, "he'll fleece you down to the last credit. But yeah, they say he runs an honest business, so if he has the information, he'll sell it."
"I don't like dealing with smugglers again," Admiral Ackbar admitted. "You can expect anything from them."
"Once, that unpredictability helped me destroy the Death Star," the young Jedi said quietly.
"Don't mention it," Han winked at him. "After all, I married your sister. The princess knows how to repay debts for the entire Rebellion... ugh..."
This time, Leia's sharp elbow hit him in the solar plexus, and the Corellian was silenced for a few seconds.
"So, what do you need from us?" General Cracken inquired.
"An escort," Leia said. "Mon Mothma ordered me to take a Mon Calamari Star Cruiser, but I think it would attract too much attention. I was thinking that Commander Antilles could accompany us to the meeting. In case of trouble, he and his people can cover us and pull out on their own."
"Always ready," Wedge saluted jokingly. "Admiral? What do you say?"
"I really can't give you a Star Cruiser," the Mon Calamari admitted. "General Cracken and I have decided to set up several ambushes on key hyperspace routes—we'll assemble battle groups, disperse them, and fish ships out of hyperspace."
"We wanted to use this tactic to catch Leonia Tavira, but she always slipped away," the chief intelligence officer admitted.
"And what makes you sure it'll work this time?" Han asked. No one answered him. And unexpectedly, even to himself, the Corellian realized—the commanders standing before him didn't know what to do next. They were at a loss and ready to grasp at any straw, just to do something.
This... was alarming. The loss of a couple of ships, or even an entire fleet, could hardly harm the New Republic so much that two of the smartest beings in its high command would give up. No, it was something else. It seemed that while he, Leia, Lando, and Luke had been racing around the galaxy playing fire brigade, things on Coruscant had become hotter than one could imagine.
"We're just hoping for that," Ackbar finally said. "I've requested several interdictor cruisers from the Core Worlds, explaining what we need them for. But... as I said, I'll have to leave for Coruscant."
Solo didn't like the tone the Mon Calamari used. As if he was holding something back. And Cracken kept strangely averting his gaze. There, there, there—even little Antilles started staring at the ceiling, pretending to be utterly fascinated by the overhead weld seams. Where the hell did the Sith dig this up?!
"What about Rugosa?" Luke inquired. "Any chance of finding any leads there? If necessary, I can help... I just don't know how or with what."
"My ships in the Rugosa system are currently loading the last pieces of wreckage into their holds," Admiral Ackbar said. "We'll deliver them to the capital and analyze them."
"Why?" Han didn't understand. Who needs scrap metal?! And in such quantities?
"Maybe we'll find some thread that will lead us to whoever orchestrated all this," there was not much confidence in Airen Cracken's voice. Which was extremely rare for him. "That's all we can do now to continue the investigation."
"But that's nonsense!" Han exclaimed. "What can you learn from wreckage? How much tibanna was spent to destroy this or that 'monstrosity'? We won't even be able to calculate their departure vector—the engine trail disperses too quickly. We need to shake down the underworld properly—they'll definitely know where to look. And more importantly, who!"
"Corran said the same thing," Antilles sighed. "Only... a bit sharper. He declared he'd look for his wife on his own."
"But he's on active duty," Skywalker noted.
"He asked for leave," Ackbar said. "I refused. He threatened to desert..."
"You'd have to really push a man to that point," Calrissian whistled admiringly. "Where can I take a master class? I could use some new tricks for important negotiations."
"Horn is a Corellian," Solo noted. "And my countrymen don't need much. I'd have done the same myself... Admiral, so I take it you put him under arrest?"
"I cannot allow the pilot of an elite squadron to do whatever he pleases in such a difficult time," the Mon Calamari snapped.
"A couple days in the brig will clear his head," Cracken declared. "We all feel for his wife and father-in-law, but hysterical fits and frantic dashes across the galaxy won't accomplish anything."
"He actually said someone offered to help him find her," Antilles noted.
"Who?" Lando tensed.
"I don't know," the commander of Rogue Squadron shrugged. "Admiral Ackbar laughed it off..."
"Keep in mind, if the help comes from a young guy named Rederick, it's an Imperial trap," Calrissian shared from experience. "Learned that one firsthand."
"No, he mentioned help from some Jedi," General Cracken dropped that bombshell on his friends in a single sentence. Everyone looked at Luke, but he just shook his head.
"I had nothing to do with it," he stated. "We only met once, on Sluis Van. He asked me a few questions about Jedi communication methods, that's all."
"What exactly did he ask about?" General Cracken perked up immediately.
"He wanted to know if one Jedi could speak to another mentally," Luke said.
"And can they?" Han wondered.
"The Force grants us many abilities," Skywalker said vaguely. "When I attacked the Death Star, Ben's voice told me to use the Force for targeting. I listened — and it worked."
"So that's why your targeting computer was off," Leia remembered.
"That's right," Antilles scratched the back of his head. "I remember being pretty stunned by that stunt. Made me think of your stories about hunting womp rats in the canyon. I wondered if you'd spotted a couple at the exhaust port shaft opening."
"No, it was Ben Kenobi," Skywalker smiled sheepishly. "That was the first time I used the Force and succeeded."
"But not the last, right?" Han asked. Luke nodded in confirmation.
"On Dagobah, I saw what would happen to you in the future. I rushed off to save you and walked right into a trap. And later, in Cloud City, when Darth Vader's flagship nearly caught us, I heard his voice in my head on the Falcon — he was calling me. Only memories of Ben helped me resist that call."
"You never told me that," Leia remarked.
"It never really came up," the Jedi Knight said, embarrassed.
"Did you tell Horn about this?" Cracken pressed on.
"He comes from a Jedi family," Luke reminded him. "And he has a right to know about his abilities. After the capture of Coruscant, I offered to make him a Jedi, but he refused, said it wasn't his path. When we met on Sluis Van, I got the impression he'd changed his mind. But he didn't mention any voices."
"So he hasn't lost his mind from grief, like we thought," the chief of New Republic Intelligence said darkly.
"I told you," Antilles noted. "Horn is one of the most mentally stable people in the squadron! He didn't break under Isard's captivity aboard the Lusankya — the only one who didn't out of everyone who went through there! And rumor has it, thousands went through her brain-ream..."
"Tens of thousands," General Cracken corrected darkly. "If not hundreds. She took that secret to her grave."
"Hold on," Han shook his head. "What are we talking about? What voices in a Corellian's head? I mean, sure, it happens to us — the voice of reason haunts plenty of Corellians. But we're always faster."
"Officer Horn reported that during the approach to Sluis Van, a certain voice in his head claimed it would help him find 'her,'" General Cracken explained. "And this was before Booster Terrik contacted us about his daughter's disappearance and proposed a plan to catch her kidnappers."
"I didn't know that," Luke's face grew serious.
"You're not the only one," Han said, squinting at the intelligence chief. "But that's not the end of the story, is it, General?"
"No," Cracken admitted reluctantly. "Horn claims that during the flight to Rugosa, while the battle was raging there, this someone contacted him again and this time clearly stated that his wife was in danger, and only he, the Jedi, could help save her."
"Some kind of mysticism," Calrissian grimaced. "Luke... buddy, why'd you go pale?"
"Vader communicated with me in exactly the same way," the Jedi Knight said.
"But he's dead," Leia reminded him, looking at her brother. "Luke, he is dead, right?"
"The Emperor's lightning burned out his life support system," the young Jedi replied. "My father died in my arms in the Death Star's hangar. And I personally cremated his body on the forest moon of Endor. I saw his ghost there — along with Yoda's and Ben Kenobi's."
"You kept quiet about the ghosts, too," his sister said with a hint of hurt.
"Sorry," Skywalker smiled guiltily. "But it's a little personal. Especially since none of them appeared to me after that — until recent events. Still, I think this situation is more serious than it seems."
"And here I thought he was about to say he'd pick up a lightsaber and fix everything," Han Solo sighed. "So, you gonna tell us about these 'recent events'?"
"Did you make contact with Obi-Wan Kenobi?" Leia asked. "Just willed it and that was it?"
"I don't think I willed it. I was asleep, actually, so talking to Ben happened in a dream. But from the records I have, I know Jedi can communicate mentally — if at least one of them is strong in the Force. Though I think it's usually done a bit differently," the Jedi said. "Around the same time the Imperials fled from our frigates in the Obroa-skai system, I felt a distortion in the Force. A disturbance, but not clear — more like echoes. Ben's ghost appeared to me. He said he was leaving and couldn't stay in our world anymore. But he warned me that the Dark Side was still strong in the galaxy, despite Vader's and the Emperor's deaths. I flew to Dagobah to investigate, but..."
"Found nothing?" his sister asked.
"Nothing significant," he replied. "Now I'm starting to think everything that happened — the distortion, Ben's vision, the voice in Horn's head — are pieces of the same puzzle. We just can't see the whole picture yet."
"We need to interrogate him immediately," Cracken declared. "Horn might be holding something back or deliberately hiding something from us..."
"Easy on the turns, General," Antilles said in an unexpectedly serious tone. "You're talking about my pilot! One of the best! The one who helped us capture Coruscant, minimize the Krytos virus outbreak, and then destroy Isard! Remind me where you and the New Republic were while my pilots and I were fighting her?"
"Officially, your resignation was never accepted at that time," the general snapped back. "So you were still in New Republic service."
"Careful, General," Han stepped in for his younger friend, sensing another protocol skirmish brewing. "This game works both ways. If you recall, I've worn general's rank bars too. And I could easily put them back on, become Wedge's commanding officer, and then you'd have to deal with me somewhere far from Coruscant and the princess's cooking. And I'm always unbearable when I'm hungry."
"You're hungry a lot," Leia sighed. Han just flashed her his favorite grin.
"Fine, if we're measuring rank bars, does anyone else remember I helped destroy the second Death Star?" Calrissian asked.
"I remember," Wedge said grimly. "I was your cover."
"I'd ask everyone to calm down," the representative of the traditionally non-confrontational Mon Calamari race said peaceably. "No one will interrogate Lieutenant Horn. Jedi Skywalker, could we ask you to speak with him? Perhaps he'll open up to you more than to us."
"I'll do everything in my power," Luke said. "But you have to understand, I'm not all-powerful. If he doesn't want to talk to me — I won't invade his mind against his will. That's the path to the Dark Side."
"This whole business stinks," Lando said unexpectedly. "Some Jedi, Imperials stirring up trouble and slapping us around like children, hysteria in the Senate... Did we actually beat the Empire?"
"What interests me much more is something else," Han admitted. "Luke, you said Darth Vader and the Emperor wiped out all the Jedi. How could someone be contacting Horn?"
"I don't know," he shrugged. "If he wants to tell us, he will."
"Actually, the Emperor and Vader couldn't find Obi-Wan Kenobi or Master Yoda," Leia noted, smiling unexpectedly. "Maybe someone else survived? Hiding the same way they did? Galen Marek, for example, might still be alive, along with General Kota."
"Sweetheart," Han squinted. "Why are you smiling so mysteriously while naming two men I've never heard of?"
"I met them about a year before the Battle of Yavin," she said. "General Kota was a Jedi who survived the Purge. Galen Marek was apparently his apprentice, and quite powerful. Kota said he had a dark past but returned to the light, helped save the Alliance leaders. But I think he died fighting the Emperor on the unfinished Death Star."
"First or second?" Wedge clarified.
"At the time, we thought there was only one," Leia admitted. "Father told me that Galen once managed to pull an Imperial Star Destroyer out of orbit above Raxus Prime and crash it into the planet..."
"Is that even legal?" Lando whistled.
"Now that's talent," Han assessed. "Luke, can you do that?"
"Well..." Skywalker hesitated. "I can pull an X-wing out of a swamp. Master Yoda said size doesn't matter."
"Speaking of which, we were getting medicine on Ryloth to fight the Krytos outbreak," Antilles said. "A dancer told me the same thing..."
"She probably wasn't a Jedi," Lando snickered. Wedge smiled, then suddenly stiffened as his comlink chimed. He glanced around furtively, excused himself, and stepped aside, talking quietly with someone. Han watched him go and thought Antilles made a terrible liar. Should he give the kid a few lessons? "But seriously, where are those two Jedi now? Luke could use their knowledge and skills."
"Why?" Han frowned. "The kid's already a Jedi, right, Luke?"
"I'm only at the beginning of my path," Skywalker noted. "And I wouldn't turn down help. But pulling Star Destroyers out of orbit with the Force is... a bit much."
"We could have used a guy like that on Endor," the Mon Calamari grumbled.
"I think I remember reports about this Marek," Cracken said thoughtfully. "He was supposedly dead, then surfaced during the Battle of Kamino with one of our cells, about a year before the Battle of Yavin IV. Rumor had it he captured Darth Vader himself. And this Kota was with him. Yes, I remember! They had their own rebel cell, a pretty serious one."
"That's right," Leia confirmed. "But then Vader got free, and no one ever heard from Galen Marek, General Kota, or their cell again. They're presumed dead."
"If that's the case, why are we even bringing them up?" Lando didn't understand.
"I just thought, maybe the Jedi who contacted Horn is Galen Marek?" Leia suggested. "If so, maybe we can bring him over to our side."
"So he can throw more Star Destroyers around?" Wedge smirked as he returned to his spot, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes. "If that's the case, me and the Rogues will be out of a job in a couple months."
"That's all a load of bantha poodoo," Lando couldn't hold back. "If something like that happened, rumors would be flying across the whole galaxy. And I haven't heard a thing."
"Neither have I," Cracken confirmed.
"I think we've strayed from the topic," the Mon Calamari's voice carried a note of impatience. "Jedi Skywalker, I'm counting on your help. At this point, this unknown Jedi — if he even exists — is our only real lead that might take us to Mirax Terrik Horn."
"Find her, and we find whoever ambushed our ambush at Rugosa," General Cracken said.
"That's a lot of 'ambush' in one sentence," Lando muttered.
"I wouldn't mind discussing more ambushes," Wedge smiled.
"Later," Cracken waved his hand. "We don't have much time as it is. If the Imperials strike again and we're not ready for it — we're in for serious trouble. Commander Antilles," Wedge looked up. And Han really didn't like the mischievous glint in his fellow Corellian's eyes. He silently prayed the kid hadn't done anything stupid. He wouldn't have made that comlink call for no reason. No, siree... "Lieutenant Horn should be in his quarters. Summon him here — Jedi Skywalker will speak with him in my presence."
"And how is that different from an interrogation?" Wedge asked. "I'll remind you, General — Corran is a former CorSec operative. No matter how well you disguise your urge to turn him inside out, he'll smell the setup. Better to leave the guy alone and let him do what he thinks is right..."
A tense silence fell. Han, once again in his life, was convinced of the absence of higher powers (or at least their mercy), and looked at Wedge. The younger man just smiled boyishly and spread his hands.
"You didn't think I'd just sit by while the people who became my family went missing, did you?" he asked, watching Cracken's face turn red.
"Commander Antilles!" the general hissed.
"I'm coming up on my anniversary as 'Commander,'" he sighed. "And thirty years as 'Antilles'."
"What have you done?!" Admiral Ackbar asked.
"Wedge," Leia shook her head. "Don't tell me you helped him escape!"
"Technically, he didn't escape," Antilles noted. "He's following my orders — tracking down Booster Terrik and Mirax Terrik Horn. As a former operative, he's capable of conducting an investigation and reporting the results. By the way, he has an interesting theory that Leonia Tavira and her Invid mercenaries are behind all of this..."
"That was unwise, Wedge," Luke stated. "He could be a danger to others since he doesn't know how to control his powers..."
"He's a Corellian," Han noted. "Which means he's been a danger since birth."
"It's still pointless," Leia said. "Our last leads flew off with him."
"I wouldn't say that," Wedge smiled. "I've known him for quite a few years. Three, to be precise. We spoke before the squadron briefing, General. And he predicted pretty accurately how this meeting would go. But he was hoping for the best. It didn't work out. So he got his orders and, like a good pilot, disciplined himself to carry them out. But he gave us a lead before he left."
"What kind?" Cracken's face had calmed down a shade.
"A name," Wedge said. "The Jedi who spoke to him. His name is Joruus C'baoth. He just told me over the comlink and got clearance for takeoff. So it's no Star Destroyer-throwing guy, it's someone completely different."
Luke, seeing everyone look at him, just spread his hands:
"I've never heard that name."
"We can check the Imperial Palace archives," Leia bit her lip. "If he's one of the old Jedi — there should be records. The Empire kept good documentation of the Jedi Purge."
"And if he's a younger Jedi, born under the Empire?" Admiral Ackbar asked.
"Then we can search the civilian database," Lando declared. "Unlikely we'll find him, but still — it's worth a try."
"I'll look into the Jedi archives," Luke said. "If they find anything, I'll let you know, Wedge."
"Thanks, Luke," the Corellian smiled, "but I doubt they'll be delivering mail to me in the brig."
"What brig?" Han frowned.
"Commander Antilles is under arrest," Cracken's voice made it clear this wasn't easy for him to say. "He authorized the departure of a person — the sole witness in a matter of state importance — after that person had been placed under arrest by a superior officer. This is a breach of protocol and, just slightly, a war crime."
"Just a hair," Antilles showed a tiny gap between his thumb and forefinger. "They won't send me to Kessel, of course, but I'll be kicked out of the military. I'll go help Corran."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Cracken said. "Given recent events, disobeying a superior officer's orders could lead to a life sentence or even execution — if some sneaky Bothan comes up with a duracrete-solid reason to come down on you hard, Commander. Honestly, you brats!" he barked. "Couldn't you at least have told me? I wouldn't have entered the order to relieve Horn into the database! Antilles, you just shot yourself in the foot!"
"Awkward," Wedge said glumly. His hair fell over his eyes. He didn't have the energy to blow it away anymore.
Han sighed heavily. He looked at Leia. The princess looked back at him. They understood each other without words.
"General Cracken," Solo said. "No need to be so harsh. As far as I remember, I gave Commander Antilles that order myself. So he didn't violate any disciplinary regulations and..."
"Captain Solo," the head of New Republic Intelligence sighed. "The best thing you can do right now is not make this worse. Everyone on this ship knows you're retired..."
"So I'm not getting paid for today?" Solo objected, looking at Admiral Ackbar. "Outrageous! I leave service for a few months and the personnel department already loses my application for reinstatement!"
"I haven't seen any applications," the Mon Calamari blinked, clearly not following the game.
"I can testify under oath that I filed it today, the moment I came aboard, with a crew member to forward to you on your ship for approval," Han insisted.
Wedge looked at him gratefully, fully aware this wouldn't work. Who would believe a former smuggler with no witnesses...
"I fully support my colleague," Lando said, pulling a rank bar with red and blue cubes from his inner jacket pocket. "My application was there too. Same content. And I also ordered Commander Antilles to send Lieutenant Horn to investigate this incident."
"This is surreal," Cracken shook his head. "Look, I'm with you in spirit, but the rules... No one will believe you!"
"Even if their words are backed by the Alderaanian princess, who also happens to be the acting advisor to the New Republic?" Leia asked, pressing close to her husband. "Especially since it's unlikely you, General, and you, Admiral, would have allowed civilians to hear what they just heard."
"Leia," Cracken looked at her almost paternally. "Why are you getting involved in this? Fey'lya would gladly get rid of all of you..."
"I don't think he'll manage to get rid of a Jedi," Luke said unexpectedly, stepping over to his friends. "As you know, Jedi never act against the good of sentient beings. So if I hadn't been nearby when Lando Calrissian and Han Solo filed their recall-from-retirement reports, how could I confirm that fact? Admiral," he looked at the Mon Calamari. "Didn't you receive those documents?"
Ackbar blinked several times, then grumbled:
"I don't like this," after a pause he added. "Those reports were sent to me. But I don't remember what I did with them. I definitely signed them, and for the last few hours, Generals Solo and Calrissian have been back on active duty. We were just briefing them on ambush tactics, weren't we, General Cracken? Or am I starting to forget things like a young goldfish?"
Laughing silently into his fist, the head of intelligence just waved his hands.
Since Ackbar himself had decided to play along, taking the bureaucratic hit himself, no punishment could be applied to Antilles — technically, he had followed the order of an officer equal in rank to the chief of intelligence.
And the difference in positions... That could be sorted out.
"I'll send detailed information on the situation and the data we have, along with your new rank insignia," he said, heading for the exit. "General Calrissian, we haven't used those kinds of rank bars in a long time. Put that antique away..."
"Thank you," Admiral Ackbar said as the door closed behind the intelligence chief. "Find those Imperials — or we'll all be in trouble."
After the Mon Calamari's hologram faded, the silence was broken by a sigh of relief as Antilles blew his bangs out of his eyes.
"That was a close one," he said. "A hair more and... Han?! Han, don't make that face! Luke, what are you planning? Lando! Let me go!"
"Welcome to General Solo's command, kid," Han said promisingly. "We'll start with tidying up your appearance. Luke, can you cut his hair with a lightsaber without taking off his ears?"
"I'm not sure," Skywalker said, a green blade appearing in his hands. "Wedge, I'm serious, better not move, I haven't practiced in a while, my hand might slip."
"At least leave the bangs!" Antilles pleaded, squeezing his eyes shut as the first clump of thick black hair hit the floor.