Nine years, seven months, and one day after the Battle of Yavin…
Or forty-four years, seven months, and one day after the Great Resynchronization.
Captain Gilad Pellaeon stood on the bridge of an Imperial II-class Star Destroyer called the Chimaera.
The man gazed through the transparisteel of the main viewport at the stars surrounding the warship. Most of them had once belonged to the Galactic Empire; now they had various masters. There was no longer any unity, no clear and consistent authority. Now it was every man for himself, ready to sink his teeth into his neighbor's throat, regardless of the fact that just a few days earlier that neighbor had been a friend and ally.
The gray-haired commander of the ship — whose name had become a symbol of Imperial victory over their ancient enemies — caught himself thinking that all of this, the Chimaera suspended in interstellar void, the distant stars belonging to enemies, the anticipation of a high-ranking Imperial officer, had all happened before. Almost two years ago, when his Star Destroyer's communications systems — the ship that had become the flagship of a small fleet after the rout at Endor — had received a message.
It had come from the Unknown Regions as a series of encrypted holopulses. It had bypassed countless other communications networks, addressed directly to the commander of the Chimaera.
Gilad remembered well the thrill he had felt, staring at the blinking words on the screen: "Message Received." The shock that had seized him the moment he realized that this piece of information had been transmitted using a communication priority once held exclusively by Emperor Palpatine.
It was no simple matter to configure one's communication equipment to transmit such data alongside a message. Practically impossible, in fact. It required the correct encryption codes — which were not easy to obtain. Even the Rebels, who had used forged access codes to infiltrate the Imperial base on Endor's forested moon, had not been able to catch the Imperials off guard with the same trick again. At least, not as far as Pellaeon knew.
For long years, he had been treated as a "second-rate commander" because at Endor, seeing how easily the Rebels were destroying the Imperial fleet, which had fought like children, he had ordered a retreat. They had branded him a traitor, they hated him, they despised him…
And no one understood that he had given the order to retreat not because he wanted to seize power over the remnants of the Imperial fleet's elite. When the war machine of the Galactic Empire had become disorganized after the death of Palpatine — who had influenced the minds of Imperial servicemen through that infamous, damned Jedi Force — the destruction near Endor had seemed inevitable. Pellaeon was the one who understood this and did everything to ensure that defeat in one battle did not turn into a complete rout.
Over the following four years, right up until his meeting with the Grand Admiral who had returned from the Unknown Regions, he had fought to preserve the integrity of the fleet and the Empire itself. He had given his life to the Imperial war machine and, by right, considered it his other half. He could not have done otherwise; he could not allow something so vast and unshakable to fall apart…
But he had lost his battle.
Every new day after Endor, he learned that more and more systems were slipping from the Imperial grasp — another victory for the New Republic. It grew increasingly difficult to maintain control over the commanders of other ships and to prevent attempts by individual Moffs, admirals, and other scum who had raised their heads, from declaring their sectors new governments. He could do nothing against those who outranked him in position and authority. He had saved the Imperial fleet, but was branded a traitor. As were all those who had followed him.
Before he had handed control of the remnants of the fleet he had saved over to the Grand Admiral, he had spent four years witnessing the end firsthand. The end of everything he had believed in and served. Everything for which he had ordered the retreat at Endor… At least, he believed his actions had been correct. And he steadfastly endured the consequences of his decisions.
The ships that had followed him had, for a very long time, been unable to find places to make repairs. So, at that very moment, when he had unpacked the message just under two years ago, and with hidden hope had expected to see the fearsome countenance of the Emperor…
Instead, he had met the gaze of a hologram of a blue-skinned humanoid, whose facial features he had forever remembered after the events in the Poln Minor system. Except back then, this non-human — whose burning gaze literally pierced through the commander of the Chimaera, and whose voice, quiet, calm, confident, seemed harder than durasteel…
When they had last met, Gilad had known this Chiss as "Senior Captain Thrawn." But then, from the Unknown Regions, it had been Grand Admiral Thrawn who had summoned him. A non-human whose tactical genius Imperial officers sometimes spoke of in whispers. Others mocked the "upstart" who had been exiled by the Emperor to colonize the wild regions of space…
He had received the rendezvous coordinates with the Grand Admiral in that transmission, when Thrawn had announced his return from the Unknown Regions of the galaxy almost two years ago.
And at that very moment, all the fears and doubts that had plagued Pellaeon after the defeat at Endor vanished. He had met his new commander and escorted him to Orinda — the capital of what remained of the once-great Galactic Empire.
Since then, life in the galaxy had changed…
Thrawn attacked the New Republic, striking where they least expected. Small victories built up towards the preparation for major operations…
And after they had seized the secret treasury of Emperor Palpatine, uncovering its location, events had begun to unfold with such speed that it was sometimes impossible to keep up.
The attack on the Dufilvian sector, the creation of raiding groups from Imperial volunteers and hired pirates — "Wolf Packs," the ambush at Rugosa, the removal of the Republic's Supreme Commander Admiral Ackbar from command, the capture of General Lando Calrissian and Princess Leia Organa Solo, the capture of the traitor — former Grand Admiral Octavian Grant, who had defected to the New Republic, the attack on the Hast shipyards… Much had happened in the two years since Thrawn's return, and especially in the last two and a half months.
The fleet of Star Destroyers that Pellaeon had placed under Grand Admiral Thrawn's command had grown many times over, both in quantity and quality, in the last two and a half months. But the Chiss did not take equipment from the Imperials, as many of his predecessors had done, pouring fuel onto the unquenchable fire of the Imperial Civil War.
He reclaimed what had fallen into the hands of the New Republic. And took from them what they could not protect.
Pellaeon turned away from contemplating the infinite cosmos, looking at the duty crew. On the command deck and below in the "pits," young members of the crew were working. Despite many of them being not so old, they were battle-hardened. The collapse of the Empire into separate Remnants, the unending war, and the death of the Imperial fleet's elite had mowed down experienced commanders and crew members, and their places had been taken by young "greenhorns" who had gone through accelerated training courses. Not so long ago, Pellaeon had complained to himself about being put in charge of these youngsters… And now he was ready to go into battle with them without a second thought.
So many highly skilled officers and other crew members had died with the Emperor almost six years ago. The best crew in the galaxy, manning Darth Vader's flagship, the Super Star Destroyer Executor — they were among them. Over three hundred thousand people — crew and ground troops — had died when the ship collided with the surface of the battle station.
So many deaths. So many dead. Everyone was dead, just like the Empire…
The Captain turned away and mentally cursed himself.
No, the Empire was not dead. The Empire was not territories and military might. It was not an old man in a black robe, nor his lackey in a stylish black armor suit with that characteristic breathing. The Empire was, above all, an idea. An idea of clear structure, an idea of order and justice.
And this idea, Grand Admiral Thrawn had promised to preserve, reorganizing the fragments of former greatness into something new, perfect, ideal… The commander of the Chimaera had witnessed with his own eyes how the Grand Admiral's worldview was changing. Two years ago, he had been firmly determined to destroy the New Republic and restore the Galactic Empire. But in the last two and a half months, the Grand Admiral had changed his point of view, deciding to extract the best from the Imperial past and lay the foundations for a new state with the principles and ideals that Imperials had lived by for the last almost thirty years. To cast aside all the dross that had led to the Empire's collapse and the creation of numerous independent Remnants on its former territory.
Pellaeon, and all those who had been briefed on the general outline of Thrawn's plan, harbored no illusions. There would be no utopian state. They would have to fight for their future — against Imperials, Republicans, criminals, and local warlords. Every day was a battle for their future. There were too many enemies to ignore the threat they posed.
And there, in the Deep Core, lurked the greatest enemy of everything the Grand Admiral Thrawn sought. The resurrected Emperor Palpatine, with whose servants the Chiss's subordinates had already clashed on Vjun. A bloody despot and schemer, intent on once again unleashing torrents of fire and destruction upon the galaxy. A man for whom nothing was sacred anymore, because he fought not for any lofty goal or idea. Emperor Palpatine intended to fight to the last Imperial solely to avenge his humiliation at Endor. He and millions of his followers — equally sadistic and tyrannical.
Pellaeon sighed.
And how many such bastards were currently lurking within Thrawn's armed forces?
During the Chimaera's repairs, a good dozen spies had been identified within the very crew alongside whom Gilad had fought for so long. Counterintelligence and the Jensaarai, Inquisitor Reynar Obscuro and Major Grodin Tierce… Traitors and revanchists inserted by the Ubiqtorate into almost every starship's crew…
And now, with the ships of Grand Admiral Thrawn's fleet dispatched on new missions, now that they were far from base, now that the names of the traitors had been established, a campaign to purge the fleet of parasites had begun…
The Chimaera hung in interstellar space.
Captain Pellaeon looked out at the blackness of space and the lights of distant, unreachable stars.
Search teams were carrying out their secret work on Dantooine, near which the flagship Star Destroyer was located.
Grand Admiral Thrawn was playing his latest game with a temporary ally who could stab him in the back at any moment.
Enemies were executing their own plans, while fleet counterintelligence eliminated informants…
The cleansing of the Empire from the "impurities" that had caused its immoral image in the eyes of the galaxy's population and led to the collapse of the great idea of peace and order, was beginning today…
On this very day, when the first three dozen Dreadnaught-class heavy cruisers from the long-lost Katana Fleet were entering service.
On this very day, when Captain Pellaeon stood on the bridge of his Star Destroyer and gazed at the infinite cosmos…
On this very day, Captain Pellaeon was simply waiting for the arrival of another ship…
And that moment approached with every passing second.
Soon the wheel of history would turn once more, and the galaxy would change.
* * *
One look at the face of the man sitting before me was enough to understand — a true Imperial.
In the very worst sense of the word.
Arrogant, haughty, disdainful. Even his facial features were a direct confirmation of the conclusions I had formed about Moff Disra, based on the after-knowledge gleaned from my past. Sharp, predatory…
I had listened to his proposal.
First, he wanted to eliminate the ruler of the Pentastar Alignment — Grand Moff Ardus Kaine. With my help, naturally — otherwise, such a meeting would never have occurred.
Then, he planned to take leadership of the Alignment and reorient it from strengthening its own military power to attacking Imperial Space — another Remnant with its capital on the planet Orinda. At present, the latter was under the control of the Imperial Ruling Council — the people who had supported the real Thrawn two years ago, providing him with financial and human resources, thereby strengthening the Grand Admiral. All in exchange for a promise not to interfere in the political realities of what remained after the collapse of the Galactic Empire.
And he was proposing I do the same — enter the struggle for control over what remained on the galaxy's map after the Empire's collapse. To transform the numerous Imperial Remnants into two Imperial hegemonies — the Pentastar Alignment and… From Disra's rhetoric, he supposedly wasn't interested in what I would do with my portion of the conquered space.
"You have heard my proposal, Grand Admiral Thrawn," Moff Disra said in a grating voice that was consequently repulsive.
"Yes," I replied, not taking my eyes off the scrambler box lying on the compartment table in front of the Moff. A device to prevent any recording of our negotiations. Insurance in case I decided to use this information against him. I had no doubt that this man was not particularly popular in the Alignment — it was no accident that he had arrived at the meeting in a single shuttle with a squad of fighters. Who, even at a glance, looked exclusively like mercenaries — and not the highest caliber, and consequently, not the highest price for their services.
It didn't take great mental capacity to understand that this being intended to solve his entire plan for seizing power over Ardus Kaine's state solely at my expense. And to use my army, my fleet, and my authority.
"What will your answer be?" Disra licked his lips impatiently, carefully not averting his gaze from my face. The mercenaries standing behind him were looking around the modest interior of the Chimaera's compartment with boredom.
A very ordinary service room — gray walls, a conference table, chairs, shipboard equipment against the walls, monitors… And a disassembled holographic projector that the technicians hadn't gotten around to commissioning yet.
"Before I voice it, Moff Disra, I wish to know what hostile actions against me and my forces Grand Moff Kaine is undertaking or planning to undertake," I said calmly.
"There was nothing of the sort in my speech," the Moff glanced first at his shoulder, where an ysalamiri slept obediently, and then behind my back. He swallowed a lump in his throat, then looked at me again. The Imperial Guard behind me was making him nervous. And the representative of the Imperial Shadow Guard, clad in black, standing beside him. Well, that was the intention.
"You spoke of it to my adjutant during the meeting on Yaga Minor," I had to remind him of what this man had planned to omit.
"Is that what she told you?" Disra was surprised. "Insolent…"
"I trust my people, Moff, unlike you," I said. "When the Imperial Ruling Council granted me the authority of Supreme Commander, one of the conditions was that I would not interfere in the political affairs of the Imperial Remnants. I emphasize — in the affairs of any Remnant. Including the affairs of Grand Moff Kaine. What you are proposing is a direct violation of that agreement. On Yaga Minor, you told my subordinate that the Grand Moff was acting against me. At the same time, he was funding my military campaign. This is either your deliberate attempt to mislead me, or an attempt to incite me to intervene in your attempted coup d'état, while keeping certain details secret from me. Allies do not behave this way, and for an attempted deception, my Guard will execute you on the spot. I await your answer."
The mercenaries behind the Moff shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Well, well — their only weapons were electro-staves, while the Shadow Guard had a lightsaber and a heavy blaster at hand, and the Guardsman was armed with a vibroblade and a blaster. The latter was, of course, hidden under the scarlet robe, and the mercenaries likely had some "tricks" up their sleeves. But starting a firefight on the ship right now was not particularly desirable.
"Kaine is cooperating with an information broker known as Talon Karrde," Disra said quickly. "He gave him data on your base on Linuri, knowing full well that Karrde would almost certainly sell that information to the Rebels."
"Continue," I ordered.
"I was the liaison between the Grand Moff and the information broker," Disra stated. "In exchange for Karrde passing the information to the New Republic, he received a shipment of Imperial technology — turbolaser batteries, deflectors, surveillance systems…"
"How was this accounted for in the manifests?"
"Karrde and Keid have been cooperating for a very long time," Disra smirked. "The cargo is declared as civilian; neither the contraband brought in by the Claw nor the military goods it exports are inspected or checked by customs. Most favored nation status."
Given the high demand for Imperial goods on the black market — a very fair method of payment. Mutually beneficial.
"How did Kaine learn of my base on Linuri?" I inquired.
"He did not share that information with me," Disra chuckled. "But I am confident that after his removal from his post, I will find much of interest to you in the Grand Moff's personal data."
"Perhaps," I agreed. "What exactly is your plan, Moff?"
"I am not going to reveal it, Grand Admiral, until I receive your consent," Disra warned. "You are intelligent enough to have secured an Imperial Guardsman for your retinue," he nodded behind my back, "so I am not going to risk you using my plan yourself and seizing control of the Pentastar Alignment."
"At this stage of my campaign, I have no interest in controlling any territory whatsoever," I said. "Especially the Alignment. If you want my support in any of your endeavors, you will need to come up with a sufficiently compelling motivation beyond telling me about an attack on a planet where I have no base."
"Don't play games with me, Grand Admiral," Disra bared his teeth. "You used me to learn about the impending attack and now intend to discard me like a spent part? I am not such a small figure in Imperial society that you can simply get rid of me! If you don't want to participate, someone else will. For example, Prince-Admiral Krennel. He, as I've heard, has recently risen significantly in authority among Imperial military personnel, appropriating your own achievements…"
"You are quite right, Moff," I agreed, glancing briefly at the chronometer. The right time. "You are not a big enough figure to be taken seriously…"
"Despicable alien," Disra snorted, rising from the table. "I advise you not to touch me, because my shuttle is rigged with explosives. And if you attack me…"
"I do not intend to take any such steps," I admitted. Disra looked at me with great suspicion.
The hand of the ship's chronometer reached the required mark…
"Grand Admiral, sir," came Captain Pellaeon's voice. "The arrival of an Executor-class Super Star Destroyer has been confirmed. They are hailing us. Received identification codes for the Reaper."
Disra's pale face turned white as chalk.
"Thrawn," the traitorous Moff said with a frantic look. "You… You… you turned me over to Kaine! The Reaper has come for me?!"
I tilted my head to the side, pondering how exactly to phrase it…
The answer came from behind me:
"You're wrong, Disra," said Grand Moff Ardus Kaine, removing the scarlet Imperial Guardsman's helmet from his head. "It's come for me."
"K… kill them!" the traitor squealed piteously, addressing his mercenaries.
But his fighters didn't have time to raise their weapons.
The former Imperial Inquisitor, Reynar Obscuro, clad in the uniform and armor of the Imperial Shadow Guard, shot a throwing dart from his vambrace into the traitor's chest, causing a crimson stain to spread instantly across his gray tunic. And immediately, with a single leap — not as graceful as he had demonstrated when using the Force — he vaulted over the tabletop, reached both mercenaries, activated his lightsaber, and dispatched them before I could even blink. To finish, he grabbed the traitor by the hair and slammed his face forcefully against the table, after which Moff Disra's body slid to the floor, leaving bloody streaks behind.
"You certainly know how to end negotiations with flair, Grand Admiral Thrawn," Grand Moff Kaine said with a chuckle, after checking Disra's body for a pulse and finding none.
"A Tusken deserves a Tusken's death," I said, adapting a well-known proverb from my world to the local idiom.
"An interesting expression," Kaine smiled grimly, revealing perfectly white teeth. "I think we will come to an agreement on everything, my friend, right after I change into more suitable attire."
"The guest cabin is at your service, Grand Moff," I said, rising from my chair and, accompanied by the Shadow Guard, leaving the negotiation compartment.
* * *
Captain Kalian looked through the bridge's transparisteel at the serene cosmos. Then he shifted his gaze to the ship's chronometer. And only after that did he turn to look at the faces of his subordinates. They showed no displeasure, but poorly concealed irritation at still not being accustomed to properly handling the Mon Calamari instruments — that was plentiful on their faces.
"Battle stations," he ordered. A chime rang out from the intercoms, more reminiscent of a fragment of an instrumental music ensemble's performance.
One week to master a starship with a completely new configuration for you, built according to entirely different plans and designs… It was difficult. But there was no choice. Either this, or rot in the shipyards, waiting for the artisans to finally finish repairing the Steel Aurora. And, as it turned out, it could be done quite quickly — if you could get the necessary components.
And that was precisely what the small detachment under his command was now hunting for.
"Contact!" the first officer announced. "The Black Aspid has pulled six medium transports out of hyperspace along the calculated vector. We've been spotted!"
"Launch the fighters," Kalian ordered. "We're moving to intercept. Transmit a surrender demand to the cargo ships. Text only."
"They're responding on a one-way voice channel, sir," the comm station reported a minute later — during which their starship had fired warning shots across the transports' course. "They're demanding passage, claiming they're delivering food supplies to Imperial Remnant territory and are nothing more than..."
"Enough with the nonsense already," Kalian said, shifting in the uncomfortable chair — the one the Mon Calamari ship commander clearly found perfectly suited, while a normal human could barely squeeze into the narrow, conical "egg." "Message the ships: 'Shut down reactors, cut engines, prepare for inspection. We know about the Imperial weapons you're carrying.' Tell the Wookiee boarding party to stand by."
Intelligence had performed flawlessly, uncovering the convoy's departure time and course from the Bilbringi shipyards to Ciutric IV. They were carrying Imperial equipment and weaponry — in large quantities. The Grand Admiral had issued orders: capture and escort the prizes to an unremarkable star system far from the attack site, and well outside Imperial Remnant territory. After that, the ships would be thoroughly stripped — cargo and equipment — the crews set adrift in escape pods, and the hulls destroyed by shipboard artillery. The reasoning was as simple as everything else in this operation: the ships almost certainly carried tracking beacons, and Kalian didn't have time to disable them.
Meanwhile, the X-wings captured from the New Republic were already herding the fat-bellied freighters — which had tried to bolt — closer to the Mon Calamari star cruiser. Ships launched from the hangar, still aboard from the days when this warship belonged to the Empire's enemies, were delivering boarding parties to the cargo vessels — Wookiees and members of several other species who had sided with Grand Admiral Thrawn. Symbolic, and entirely in the interests of covering the operation. After all, New Republic propaganda had widely spread the narrative that the Empire hated all species without exception, except humans and those close to them.
Captain Kalian smirked.
An operation under the New Republic's guise, aimed at intercepting military supplies headed for Prince-Admiral Delak Krennel. Hardware that would go toward restoring Grand Admiral Thrawn's ships — the Victory-class Star Destroyers — along with captured Mon Calamari cruisers that also needed armament.
The commander of the Steel Dawn had no doubt that Grand Admiral Thrawn would, one way or another, use this situation for more than just acquiring Imperial military technology without payment.
There had to be a "second layer."
Had to be.
* * *
By the time I made my final decision on who exactly I should form — if not an alliance, then at least a truce with — I knew everything about Grand Moff Ardus Kaine that intelligence and Imperial archives could provide. I have no doubt that a significant portion of data still hadn't reached my attention, simply because retrieving it from Pentastar Alignment territory was extremely dangerous.
But even what I had was enough to understand a simple, fundamental truth.
This man carried deep psychological trauma straight from childhood, transformed over years of service into a specific behavioral policy — both professional and personal. And the cause was his father.
The future Grand Moff's homeworld was Sartinaynian. And I remember that name well, oddly enough. In the future — and perhaps even now — this world would acquire the code designation "Bastion" and, a decade later, become the capital of what remained of the Empire. This planet's coordinates had already been removed from Imperial Remnant databases, which was telling — Kaine was already taking steps to secure his homeworld. Moreover, the coordinates weren't even in the astrogation charts loaded into my own fleet's database. So the work had been going on for some time. Well, noted. Filed away. Because for me, the coordinates of the future Bastion were just as secret as for everyone else — the data obtained during the Obroa-Skai mission had significantly expanded our knowledge of galactic astrography. But the Grand Moff's paid intelligence services knew how to cover their tracks. Still, acquiring information wasn't difficult with a bit of imagination and resourcefulness.
The future Grand Moff's father was a moderately successful merchant and an uncompromising racist, hungry for prestige and political influence. A petty tyrant who raised his son with the same aspirations — and, by all accounts, overdid it. Agency reports from Ardus Kaine's very first days of service indicated the boy was only pretending to be a racist. In truth, he was "soft and fluffy." Put simply, he couldn't care less what happened to non-humans. He had no interest in oppression, yet he categorically welcomed their participation and labor if they were useful — which aligned with my current and future position. That became the first weight on the scales between him and the open xenophobe Disra.
Kaine's father died at the hands of pirates. The future Grand Moff found himself in a psychologically traumatic situation that became fertile ground for the roots of New Order ideology and the gleaming, victorious image of the newly formed Galactic Empire.
Thanks to Kaine's organizational talents and oratory skills, the galaxy's transition into the fold of Imperial law and order was smooth and swift: it was Kaine, specifically, who helped strengthen the armed forces and stood at the origins of reorganizing the Commission for the Protection of the Republic into COMPNOR — the Commission for the Preservation of the New Order — notorious for its political and anti-alien fanaticism. The very things that would have made his deceased father proud.
Emperor Palpatine knew how to spot useful people and arrange their futures. Ardus Kaine was rewarded for his future by receiving an entire sector to govern, becoming a Moff. And after the first Death Star's destruction, only one candidate emerged to replace the fallen Wilhuff Tarkin as Grand Moff of the Oversector Outer: Kaine. By then, he had already demonstrated his core principles — cold calculation, pointed formalism toward everything happening, and a predatory nature. This matched the psychological profile of the deceased Tarkin in many ways, so it was no wonder Palpatine sought an heir to Tarkin's legacy.
And here's where it gets interesting.
Kaine handled being Moff of a single sector — even if not the largest — just fine. But when faced with the need not just to rule but to answer for hundreds of sectors, he... faltered. The new appointment contradicted his own desire — to move into the Core Worlds government and get as close to the Emperor as possible. Like other Imperials, he craved power. But he feared the fight for it, afraid of losing what he already had. Against this backdrop of incipient bipolar disorder, Ardus Kaine entered a confrontation with Palpatine's assassin, Ennix Devian — the beginning of their mutual enmity. In the future, Devian would seize two habitable spheres from Coruscant's orbit after the Battle of Endor — visually resembling Death Stars. One had been promised to him by Palpatine, the other was intended for Kaine... Petty revenge — Devian displayed the latter as a third "Death Star" before the rebels who had just won at Endor, just to exploit the chaos and steal their ships undergoing repairs.
In his new post, Kaine became the owner of an Executor-class Super Star Destroyer named the Reaper, along with a Star Destroyer squadron called the "Scourge Squadron" an allusion to Darth Vader's "Death Squadron."
So it was fair to say the appointment came with plenty of attractive perks.
After the Emperor's death at Endor, the ideological officer and administrator Kaine was shocked by the near-total collapse of the existing chain of command. But he adapted to the chaos very quickly.
He drastically reduced his controlled territories, selecting those with the greatest functionality and strategic value. Backed by significant corporate support, he organized the Pentastar Alignment and turned it into a distorted reflection of the rapidly collapsing Galactic Empire. Looking at the final result, the Alignment most resembled some vast corporate holding. Yet the system worked — and with enviable efficiency.
Kaine brought many dark Jedi who had previously served Palpatine to his side — for example, the Grand Inquisitor Jerec, who in the past, as I recalled, hunted for the Valley of the Jedi and opposed such a well-known figure as Kyle Katarn. Kaine converted the Inquisitors into a judicial branch for his Alignment's government, and they served him well, ferreting out citizen sentiments. But it was all done by Imperial Inquisition law: interrogate first, ask questions later. From among the locals ideologically loyal to the New Order, Kaine formed law enforcement agencies that combined the function of executioners and served as the primary weapon of terror against his own people.
Kaine's origins and his careful yet skillful rhetoric as a faithful adherent of the New Order sect and the oppression of aliens led many to believe he despised the weak, pro-alien policies of the Old Republic and the Rebel Alliance — which attracted a large influx of Imperial military personnel and scientists. In reality, Kaine had learned from Palpatine's experience in recruiting talented non-humans into his service. And this should have caused a social explosion, but... it didn't. On the contrary, the locals saw nothing unnatural about despising and hating aliens while, so to speak, smiling and waving amiably at representatives of non-human races in positions of power within the Alignment.
As before, Kaine feared losing what he had already gained, so he didn't seek to usurp all the Imperial Remnants. The Grand Moff understood that the New Republic would be the only winner, and he had little desire to get drawn into a war against other Imperials. Instead, he simply multiplied his forces and focused on territorial defense. When, for the first and so far the last time, the question was raised among Kaine and his inner circle about whether he wanted to become the new Emperor, he replied that he had no such desire.
And that was a very important point in my future strategy for dealing with the Grand Moff.
His inner circle was convinced he was simply afraid to enter a confrontation with other Imperials, lacking overwhelming military power. Despite the large number of ships in the Alignment's fleet, Kaine — unlike, say, the Imperial Ruling Council — had no capacity to build starships from scratch. He lacked the full-cycle production base for constructing Star Destroyers and other line ships. Simple as that — he didn't have the necessary equipment or specialists.
But the Grand Moff didn't despair. Instead, he imported the critical systems, components, and assemblies he needed from outside the Alignment. Hyperdrives, navicomputers, and so on. Hence his emphasis on the Reaper, the Scourge Squadron — the core of his fleet — as well as superiority over opponents in the heavy cruiser category, of which he already had several hundred, with more being built. But even with significant numerical superiority, the latter couldn't compare to the power of Imperial Space, which had hundreds of Imperial triangles and the ability to build them at the Bilbringi shipyards. For every Imperial-class vessel assigned to Orinda's armed forces, Kaine was forced to build several heavy cruisers of the Vengeance-class or Enforcer-class. The latter looked much like the same Immobilizer-418 interdiction cruiser, except its eight hemispheres housed additional reactors instead of gravity well generators, powering numerous extra cannons.
Ground forces were roughly equal between both Remnants, resulting in a kind of military parity. Both governments had enough sense not to start dividing territories, understanding that they would lose either way — the New Republic wouldn't miss a chance to exploit the conflict and bite off a couple of sectors, if not a good dozen.
However, I'm inclined to think that either Kaine himself or someone among his trusted advisors definitely knew that Emperor Palpatine's return was inevitable — and consequently, he would be extremely displeased that his obedient attack dogs had gone for each other's throats. Doubly suspicious was the fact that, in the events I knew of, both Kaine and the leader of the Imperial Ruling Council ended up on the side of the Resurrected Palpatine. But unfortunately, I wasn't certain or informed about what exactly could have led to such actions.
Given that Palpatine's agents had already crossed my path and possessed information about my political moves, I needed to delay their interference in my plans starting now.
And that became the second reason I chose to cooperate with Kaine rather than Disra. My involvement in a coup within the Alignment — assuming it was linked to Byss — would only accelerate Palpatine's invasion. Support for Kaine, on the other hand, fit within the promise made by the real Thrawn not to interfere in the Remnants' political life. That sounds illogical, considering my past negotiations with Imperials, but the crux lay elsewhere.
"Would you care to share where you acquired such an exclusive item?" Ardus Kaine inquired, taking a seat across from me in another conference room. He cast an interested glance at Reynar Obscuro standing behind me in the guise of an Imperial Shadow Guard. Unlike the red robes of the Imperial Guard, the black-and-red tones of this unit's uniform appealed to me more.
"That's precisely why it's exclusive — you can't get it anywhere else anymore," I said, steepling my fingers before me.
"And I heard they were all wiped out," Kaine remarked.
"Rumors can be very deceptive, Grand Moff," I noted. Having such a rare elite Imperial Guard representative had its own purpose. First, I needed reliable cover for negotiations with Disra. Second, for Palpatine's collaborators — if they were cooperating with Kaine in any way — an explanation was needed for Inquisitor Obscuro's disappearance after Vjun. "It's a very useful tool that helps me solve problems of a very specific nature."
"Jedi Skywalker?" Kaine asked.
"That fledgling has already proven he can pose serious problems under certain circumstances," I said. "To counter a weapon of a certain caliber, you need something of similar characteristics. I have it. As, incidentally, do you."
"You are very well informed about the state of affairs within the Pentastar Alignment," Ardus Kaine's face darkened.
"If that were the case, I would surely know that you've been maintaining contact with Karrde," I was forced to remind the "forgetful" Grand Moff. "And certainly that you've been steering him toward my base on Linuri."
"We both know you abandoned that outpost long ago," Kaine countered.
The fact that I had ordered the troops withdrawn from there didn't mean the planet held no interest for me.
"And yet," I continued. "That action exceeds the agreements made between me and the rulers of the Imperial Remnants."
"As does your holding private meetings with some of their rulers," Kaine said immediately, hinting at the reasons for his behavior.
"There's no point denying the obvious," I agreed. "I need technology, and I obtain it from those who can provide it."
"The non-interference agreement with Imperial politics stipulated that you would receive what you need from the Remnants, provided we are able to give it," Kaine said firmly. "Instead of asking, you've begun taking extremely suspicious steps that could be interpreted in two ways. No one appreciates that."
"The volume of military support the Pentastar Alignment and Imperial Space can provide me is less than what I need to continue my campaign," he undoubtedly understood I was evading a direct answer. But what else could I tell him? That I didn't know the details of the agreements because I didn't possess Thrawn's memories? No, there were no suicide candidates in this compartment. "So first, I want to exhaust the possibilities of those who can supply what I need here and now. Then I'll return to our agreements with the Remnants."
"Strange logic, Grand Admiral," Kaine grimaced.
"Logic that helped you avoid a coup," I said immediately, understanding I needed to steer the conversation toward safer ground. "I'm sure it won't be difficult for you to identify Moff Disra's allies and eliminate the threat to your rule."
"Don't worry about it," the Grand Moff snorted. "That problem is solved. And your participation in resolving this unfortunate interference will not go unnoticed."
"I am most grateful for such meticulous attention to our agreements," I said. "I've heard rumors that you possess a large fleet of Avenger-class heavy cruisers."
"Perhaps," the Grand Moff said with a note of caution. "From my information, you also have heavy cruisers..."
"Not as many as the rumors suggest," there was little chance he'd fall for that excuse, but it was worth trying. "I would like to receive ten Avengers from you."
The Avenger-class heavy cruiser.
"Each six-hundred-meter vessel of that type costs me about fifty million credits," Kaine said, narrowing his eyes. "Half a billion... Your assistance comes at a high price, Grand Admiral."
Well then. So the Grand Moff had accepted, understood, and assessed the idea that I had chosen his side solely to acquire starships — and by no means the worst ones. He considered my motives understandable and pragmatic: intervene in a conspiracy to get my own slice of the pie. This would only confirm my claims that I had cooperated with other Remnants exclusively for new ships.
"Yet it allows you to remain in power, and me to continue my work," I noted.
"Disra's uprising was doomed to fail in the near future anyway," Kaine grimaced. "I would have uncovered it without your help."
"But you didn't," I noted. "I think it's unnecessary to remind you that you didn't even know of its existence until my people informed you."
"Why do you need heavy cruisers, Thrawn?" the Grand Moff preferred to steer the conversation elsewhere. "They're used for station duty, nothing more. In a line battle, they look very pale compared to even the simplest Imperial-I-class Star Destroyer."
"Grand Moff Kaine," I said patiently. "You were offered assistance in eliminating a threat to your rule. You knew I would demand military hardware in return. Revealing my plans for these ships is not in my interest. We are both reasonable beings who always fulfill previously reached agreements. What purpose is there in discussing this now?"
Kaine looked at me as if trying to see through me with X-rays. Despite being aboard my ship alone and unarmed, he knew perfectly well that I wouldn't harm him even if I wanted to — that's precisely why he'd dragged the Reaper along behind him. That was both a threat and a warning. The Chimaera, even with its additional defector generator, might try to hold out in combat against that ship, but a couple of broadside volleys from the Super Star Destroyer's gunners would be enough to strip my flagship of not just its shields but also its armor (though I was more certain the Star Destroyer would simply turn into a smoking hulk).
This man didn't like sharing, and was now trying to determine whether such a generous gesture wouldn't create problems for him in the future.
"So the stories about the 'Katana Fleet' were nothing but disinformation," he said. "You fooled us all to keep the Imperial Remnants from taking active measures against you and your people..."
I wisely chose not to answer. If the enemy was deceiving himself, why shatter his illusions? Especially since that very viewpoint was intended to be spread among the Imperial Remnants. Considering that in the Pentastar Alignment, besides Ardus Kaine himself, there were four other high-ranking officials (hence the numeral in the state's name), rumors that Thrawn wasn't actually that powerful would circulate. I was confident Ardus could ensure such data spread within the "inner circle."
"Ten ships is too many," he said. "Three, at most. Disra wasn't that valuable."
"Seven," I said calmly.
"Four," Kaine's teeth ground nearly inaudibly.
"Five," I continued the bargaining.
"Agreed," the Grand Moff said unexpectedly. "But I'll transfer them without crews or starfighters. Name a system for delivery, and they'll be there within a standard week."
Considering the fact that such starships cannot be built in a week, Kaine intends to hand over heavy cruisers from his active fleet.
"They must not be battle-damaged or require additional repairs, or replacement of components," I warned. Kaine gave a satisfied grunt, confirming my suspicions — he intended to give me ships that had already been thoroughly battered by life and the enemy.
"You'll have those ships, Grand Admiral," Kaine's face continued to resemble an emotionless mask, but I could see from his eyes that he was pleased with the deal. "You know, we could achieve a great deal if we worked together, Grand Admiral..."
"Are there specific examples of your initiative?" I inquired.
"Disra was right about one thing — Prince-Admiral Krennel is amassing great strength and popularity," Kaine said. "He also provided you with financial assistance in the early stages of the campaign, didn't he?"
"As did most of the Remnants," I confirmed with a general phrase.
"He had restrictions placed on him for a long time following his execution of the Grand Vizier," the Grand Moff continued. "But now my intelligence reports that he has capital ships that he shouldn't have."
"Is that so?" I clarified. "And where did he get them?"
"There are rumors circulating among the population of the Remnants that the information about the military actions of the last Grand Admiral is nothing more than a smokescreen for Krennel's activities," Kaine continued. "By requesting information security as one of your conditions, you effectively deprived yourself of the chance to become a hero in the eyes of ordinary Imperials. You must have noticed that after rumors spread that the Prince-Admiral attacked the Hast shipyards and achieved an Imperial revanche in the battle for that strategic asset, all the aspirations of the Imperial revanchists are directed at him, not at you. I'm told that the flow of volunteers for your armed forces has begun to dry up."
"Yes, I've been briefed on that information as well," I confirmed. "Temporary difficulties, nothing more."
"Who knows, Grand Admiral, who knows," Ardus Kaine said mysteriously, reminding me once again that this man could just as easily stab me in the back as any other Imperial warlord invested with power. "You have to split your crews to manage all the starships you have. That could lead to serious consequences — understaffed ships are a major problem."
"Are you offering to help replenish my personnel?" I inquired.
"Among other things," he said. "My shipyards are open to you, Grand Admiral. I assure you, the prices will be a pleasant surprise. Any product we can manufacture for your starships will be yours at a price just above cost. Unfortunately, I cannot offer to supply it for free, as hard times require strict economy. For the same reason, I cannot offer you further financial assistance..."
Oh, sure. The Pentastar Alignment is one of the richest, if not the richest, of the Imperial Remnants. Kaine has no intention of helping at his own expense. So he wants to pull a rather simple but effective combination on me...
O tempora, o mores.
"I will consider your offer, Grand Moff," I said. A reserved promise, like any action taken by Thrawn, was a symbol of no immediate desire.
"As you wish, Grand Admiral," Ardus Kaine said with a crooked smile. He was silent for a moment, studying the Imperial Shadow Guard. "Still, why the meeting near Dantuin, and not anywhere else?"
"Such was Moff Disra's proposal," I lied without batting an eye. "His motives didn't interest me."
"What a pity he won't be able to ask any more questions," Kaine said slowly, watching my reaction closely. There was none. "Well, it was a pleasure working with you, Grand Admiral. I trust you have no objection to my taking the traitor's body?"
"You should have mentioned that beforehand," I said equally slowly, looking the Grand Moff in the eye and showing I had nothing to hide. "We don't keep corpses on the Chimaera; we prefer to dispose of them in the molecular furnace."
"It's quite expensive to install such equipment instead of a standard trash compactor," the Grand Moff said, becoming wary. Well, naturally. Who in their right mind would spend tens of millions of Imperial credits on such a matter-disintegrating installation?
"But it's an excellent solution to all problems with opponents who might try to escape the ship through the garbage chute," I replied. "And they can't hide among the debris jettisoned before a jump."
"It seems you really did enjoy the patronage of the highest levels of the Empire in your time," Kaine said. "It took me years to learn how the rebels escaped from the first Death Star and were lost to the search ships of Darth Vader's Death Squadron after the Battle of Hoth."
"Me too," I replied, giving him more food for thought. "But I had plenty of time to understand my enemies."
Our staring contest lasted several seconds before Grand Moff Ardus Kaine silently extended his right hand for a handshake.
And that's how I discovered that this gesture exists in a galaxy far, far away...
* * *
Watching the nineteen-kilometer Super Star Destroyer shrink to a point as it transitioned to lightspeed, I quietly asked Reynar Obscuro, who stood behind me:
"Are you certain Kaine didn't see through the subtleties of what happened?"
"Absolutely, Grand Admiral," came the hollow bass from beneath the black helmet with the red visor. "I never miss. The metal dart severed a vessel, but the heart wasn't touched. The substance coating the edges entered the bloodstream and caused instant paralysis of all muscles and cardiac arrest. The antidote was administered before irreversible oxygen starvation of the brain set in. The prisoner is in the ship's infirmary and is receiving all necessary care. Once he recovers, he will be ready for interrogation."
"Good news," I said. "How is the cleanup of enemy spies aboard the Chimaera progressing?"
"Long-range communication systems are blocked, direction finders are active. Major Grodin Tierce and stormtrooper squads are conducting arrests on your flagship; Lieutenant Colonel Astarion's corresponding units are on the other ships. Moff Ferrus reports the successful capture of all identified traitors on Tangrene, military installations in the system, and in the Morshdine sector. By the end of the day, we can guarantee the elimination of all spies we were able to uncover," Pellaeon said. "Honestly... I didn't think there would be so many on board my own ship."
"The Chimaera is a symbol of our fleet," I said. "That's why there were fewer informants on other starships than here. What concerns me far more is that among the defecting personnel at the captured shipyards, over a hundred different informants have been identified. Bothans, Republic Intelligence, the Ubiqtorate, Baron D'Asta, the Hutts, the Zann Consortium..."
"Many haven't yet been broken to reveal their affiliation," said the Shadow Guard. "Allow me to handle this problem?"
"I want to know everything they've passed on to their superiors," I said. A happy snort came from beneath the former Inquisitor's helmet. Interrogation is what he loves. "And also, ways to contact the coordinators of these agents. The informant network must be severed, and the introduction of additional security and intelligence service agents must be accelerated. Proceed to the repair stations, Lord Obscuro, and get me all the necessary answers."
"It will be done, Grand Admiral," the former Inquisitor said firmly, turned on his heel, and left the bridge.
When he was in the turbolift, I stroked the ysalamiri sitting on my shoulder.
"Is Moff Disra's shuttle neutralized?" I inquired.
"Yes, sir," Pellaeon replied. "As soon as the three-way meeting began, my specialists and stormtroopers blocked the communication systems and conducted the sweep. The shuttle pilots are in the brig; they're being interrogated now."
Good work. A bomb going off in the flagship's hangar is the last thing we need for our collective happiness.
"Any reports from Mandalore?" I asked, raising another pressing issue on the agenda.
"Unfavorable, sir," Pellaeon replied. "Himron's group obtained information from MandalMotors but was captured by unknown individuals. Most of the operatives were killed; Molo himself was taken prisoner and transported on a ship with a false identifier. Operative Rederick is already conducting an investigation; the ship's registration data was purchased from customs officials, so we have a lead."
"Is the link between MandalMotors and the Zann Consortium confirmed?"
"No, sir, on the contrary, it has been refuted. The Mandalorians prefer to keep their heads down in their sector. They seized the moment when the Consortium faced problems on a galactic scale and then killed the crews of the criminal ships that were in the sector. Since then, no Consortium fighters or agents have been seen there. And the company isn't accepting outside orders; all the equipment they produce goes to arm the Mandalorians; only civilian technology is sold outside the sector."
"Interesting," I said. "Have the data from Dantuin arrived yet?"
"Just before the Reaper's arrival, sir," Pellaeon reported. "The engineers managed to find the entrance to the collapsed Jedi Enclave building. Lord Fodeum Sabre De'Luz reports that he can still sense some traces of the Force. They could be artifacts or holocrons."
"Let's not jump to conclusions," I said. "Did the interdiction of arms shipments for Prince-Admiral Krennel go smoothly?"
"Yes, sir," Pellaeon said with a crooked grin this time. "I'm sure a wave of outrage will soon arise over 'Republic' raids on Imperial territories."
"Has Captain Hoffner already prepared the data on the fictitious sales of our Mon Calamari cruisers?" I inquired.
"Yes," Pellaeon nodded. "Rumors that such ships have appeared in the arsenals of several Hutt clans are already spreading through the HoloNet."
A frankly weak attempt to deflect suspicion from Krennel, but I'm to blame here myself — by screening volunteers through counterintelligence, I completely overlooked the fact that I should have first put those already under my command through a fine-toothed comb. However, lesson learned.
"How is the operation to sell off the property and valuables plundered by Leonia Tavira's pirates going?" I clarified, my gaze fixed on the serene emptiness of space. There's something calming about that picture. Wars, revolutions, life and death... But only the interstellar void remains unchanged. We are born and we die, but space is eternal... It's... magical.
I think I'm beginning to understand Thrawn, who found answers in contemplating beauty.
"The needs of the Jensaarai and the population of Suzefri have been fully met," Pellaeon chuckled. "Food, technology, droids... We could practically open a recruitment center there for our armed forces. The planet's elected governor stated that the population is eternally indebted to their benefactors."
"We'll return to that matter a little later, Captain," I declared. "For now, it's enough that we've relocated both orbital repair workshops, four defense stations, and all the 'unaccounted' part of the Katana Fleet, including the captured Mon Calamari cruisers, to their system."
"Yes, sir," Gilad replied.
"Are we receiving a signal from our droids on the 'Morrt' project?" I asked a new question.
"Telemetry is stable," Pellaeon assured me. "All droids have infiltrated the Reaper and connected to its systems. We are receiving data through a dummy HoloNet relay. Soon, we will have information on the basing locations of Grand Moff Kaine's flagship."
What interests me much more is whether the infamous Bastion will be among those locations. Because revealing its location is a crucial step in further strategy. In fact, more than one. A planet is practically immobile, so revealing this secret could yield suitable dividends.
But all this is information for the future, albeit not too distant. At the moment, I'm more interested in the current operation, which is why I arranged the meeting with Moff Disra.
"Are the preparatory measures on Linuri complete?" Pellaeon shot me a cautious glance. Obviously, he had thought until the very end that we wouldn't use this option. But what's the point of holding back if the enemy has had this kind of information for ages? The New Republic won't see anything particularly new there. Even though Karrde still hasn't 'broken,' and we have no confirmation that the data about the base on the planet has 'leaked' to my enemies, it's never too late to be cautious. And I don't trust Kaine completely either. Where Karrde was, his people, left without a leader, and other information brokers could also act as informants. Not to mention that the admission of motivation for such an act on the part of the Grand Moff provides grounds to expect similar actions against me from Ysanne Isard.
A week for reflection is enough time to devise countermeasures.
"Yes, sir, confirmation received, the group is working according to the assigned tasks."
"Is the squadron ready to deploy?" I inquired.
"Yes, sir, they are waiting at the rendezvous point. Recon droids report no movement detected in the system. The decoy starships are ready to move out at your first command. The communications jamming systems that Captain Yazuo Vain acquired on Raxus Prime from the wreckage of a Munificent-class frigate are working stably after all necessary modifications and upgrades. As soon as we activate them, no one will hear anything from the system under attack. Our communication systems, of course, operate on the designated frequency for this. It's a shame no one before had the sense to use the Separatist electronic warfare system..." Pellaeon's face showed some disappointment at the end of the report.
"Better late than never," I said, sinking into my chair and scratching the ysalamiri's belly. "If the system tests go as planned, our agents will have to work hard to find this equipment. Give the command, Captain Pellaeon; this is, after all, your ship."
"Yes, sir," the commander of the Chimaera said with barely concealed pleasure. "Attention, crew! Yellow alert level! Stand by, prepare to break the light barrier! Set course to rendezvous with the Aurek Squadron. Inform the flagship battle groups of the commencement of Operation Crimson Dawn."
Then the Chimaera, along with a dozen starships of the Aurek Squadron, which were at the same distance from the target as the fleet's flagship, jumped into hyperspace.
On Coruscant, dawn was just breaking, but Advisor and Commander-in-Chief of the New Republic Armed Forces, Borsk Fey'lya, woke up with a feeling of impending, unavoidable doom...
And although he was not a being sensitive to the Force, this time his famed Bothan intuition did not deceive him.