Nine years, seven months, and twenty-eighth day after the Battle of Yavin…
Or forty-fourth year, seven months, and twenty-eighth day after the Great Resynchronization.
(Four months and thirteenth day since the Arrival.)
Night had barely passed its midpoint, and the new day was already coming into its own.
Like the strike of an archaic floor chronometer, the kind that various wealthy people and nobles loved to install in their residences, a blow with a metallic ring echoed through a well-furnished apartment deep within a civilian station orbiting the planet Sluis Van.
But this sound had nothing to do with marking the new day, or even the hour.
Nor did the identical sound that followed it. But if any outsider had witnessed the events in this small apartment, they would have immediately noticed that the second blow, with its metallic clang, had a wet, squelching undertone.
As if the second strike had landed on something soft that contained liquid.
Imperial Intelligence Coordinator Sergius pulled the metal tray away from his victim's face, looking at the kitchen utensil's bottom, now bent into the shape of the Republic counter-intelligence officer's head.
"Cheap junk," he concluded, tossing the kitchen item aside. He wasn't worried about the neighbors hearing the sounds and clatter of metal utensils — the apartment's owner had done a thorough job on the soundproofing. "Skimping on yourself, you miser?"
"Who… are you?" the counter-intelligence officer rasped, spitting bloody trails dripping from his broken nose. "Do you have any idea who you've attacked?!"
"I do," Sergius said honestly. "But since I'm a fellow from a respectable Imperial military family, I won't repeat my thoughts aloud — so as not to disturb your delicate emotional constitution."
"They'll be tearing you apart by lunch," the counter-intelligence officer promised venomously.
"Oh, tsk-tsk-tsk, how terrifying," Sergius clicked his tongue, giving his interlocutor a cold, professional look. "And who exactly will be doing the tearing, if you don't mind telling me?"
The counter-intelligence officer started to speak, but shut up.
An internal mechanism of fear had kicked in. Not of the 'guest.' But of his actual employers.
"Well, there you have it," Sergius concluded. "So, let's get to the real business. Have you studied the Imperial manual for interrogating enemy agents?"
"Go to hell," the counter-intelligence officer snorted.
"Well then, I'll repeat it to keep all formalities," Sergius gave a feigned smile, appreciating the interesting sight of the half-naked Republic 'colleague' tied to a metal chair. Caught straight in his sleep, knocked out with a special agent, and securely restrained — because if the conversation went the 'bad' way, it would hurt. Sergius hadn't found any anesthetics in the Imperial Intelligence safe house, so he fell back on the wise teachings of his academy instructors, who had stressed the difference between securely restraining a 'patient' and merely limiting his mobility during an interrogation with prejudice. In this case, the New Republic counter-intelligence officer was restrained thoroughly. "You have the right to remain silent, the right to qualified legal counsel, the right to give testimony in your native language or a language you speak…"
"What nonsense are you spouting?" the counter-intelligence officer stared at him. "That's not how it works in the agent manual! You're reciting civilian rights during interrogation! Idiot!"
"So you have studied the enemy agent interrogation manual," Sergius smiled. The target darkened, realizing what simple trick he had fallen for. "Good. Then we can move on to more direct questions. How long has the 'Vulture' been working at the shipyard?"
"Go to the Sith, Imperial!" the counter-intelligence officer said contemptuously.
"A good answer, but I don't like it," Sergius stated, picking up a metal meat tenderizer from the kitchen tools. He weighed it in his hand, then, without warning, struck the prisoner between the legs.
"Aaaahhhh!" the Republic man screamed in an inhuman voice, his whole body trying to recoil from the point of impact.
"What are you yelling about?" Sergius inquired, pulling the hammer away from the edge of the metal chair's seat, letting the enemy admire the ribbed dents in the metal. "I didn't even touch you."
"You're insane!" the prisoner continued screaming. "I'll find you, I'll tear you apart, I'll…"
He didn't get to finish, receiving a backhand from the Coordinator's left hand.
"Shall I repeat the question?" Sergius clarified.
The counter-intelligence officer spat blood onto the kitchen appliance and swore crudely.
"I don't care for obscene language," Bravo-2 admitted. "But I do love interrogations. Very much. So — how long has the 'Vulture' been working here?"
"What do you even want!?" the counter-intelligence officer roared. "These are Republic turbolasers disappearing, not your personal property, not even Imperial ones! We take as many as we want, whenever we want!"
"Well done," the Coordinator praised him. "If you keep giving more details than I ask for — maybe after the interrogation I'll let you keep the ability to walk."
The counter-intelligence officer fell silent. Yes, he had just confirmed two things: first, he was perfectly aware of the connection between the disappearance of Republic military property and the 'Vulture,' and second, his own involvement in the active operations of the 'looting' group.
Which meant he was no longer just an 'informed sentient.' He was an accomplice. Now Sergius had all the confirmation that this man hadn't just been feeding him a line during the recruitment attempt.
"Cooperation is rewarded," Sergius reminded him.
"Go on, say you'll let me go," the counter-intelligence officer scoffed. They both understood that in a situation like this, no one kept live witnesses.
"You have an option: die quickly and painlessly, voluntarily telling me everything I want to know," Sergius laid out the prospects. "Or I'll cut you to pieces, but I'll still get what I want. However, it will be excruciatingly painful for you…"
"Have mercy," the Republic man suddenly said, his lower lip trembling. "I have a wife, three kids. I needed the money to support them…"
"Oh, spare me the sob story," Sergius chuckled. "You don't have anyone. Your wife left you, took the kids. Your 'support' is child support. Which you haven't paid in years."
"How…?" the apartment's owner jerked.
"Your safe is cheap junk," Bravo-2 stated. "I looked over the copies of lawsuits your wife filed against you. Yeah… I don't know who hired you, but your HR department is a complete mess. A total mess."
"Then let me go after I tell you everything," the Republic man instantly snapped back.
"First, talk," Sergius advised him. "We'll decide afterwards."
"She showed up here a couple of years after the Alliance kicked your asses at Endor," the counter-intelligence officer began speaking rapidly. "Clean documents, excellent references. A nice, smiley girl. And right away, as soon as I tried to make contact, she took control. Knew everything about me — all my overdue child support, all my mistresses' names, all my debts…"
"That's how the 'Vultures' operate," Sergius explained. "Any dirt in their past is their manipulation tool. What's her mission?"
"You think she tells me?" the counter-intelligence officer smirked. "All I know is that she practically controls half the customs inspectors in this section. She has a big interest in military property warehouses — how she got assigned to this part of the station, I don't know."
Use your head — the same way she controls you, Sergius thought.
"How many warehouses is the same scheme running on?" he clarified. In a good interrogation, the main thing is to ask questions so the other side gets confused. Meanwhile, you should keep the entire picture of events in your head.
"All of them," the counter-intelligence officer replied. "They've decided to wind down the operation now."
"What's the reason?" He'd actually heard from the looters about the arrival of General Solo, but he wanted more confirmation.
"Coruscant clearly suspects something is wrong here," the target replied, wincing. "Ships carrying military cargo keep disappearing — and only those routed to the Bothans, bypassing official supply channels."
"You disguised the theft of turbolasers and other goods as pirate attacks, didn't you?" the Coordinator clarified.
"Yes," the other admitted reluctantly. "They have a few interdictor-class ships that intercept convoys from hyperspace. Since most of the carriers are practically former smugglers anyway, they won't be missed for a long time. Only when the real investigations into what's happening here start."
"But by that time, you'll have a plausible version of events ready, won't you?" Sergius inquired. "That dumb kid from Tanaab who got hired at the military warehouses and secretly plants 'beacons' in the containers with fleet property?"
"That idiot won't be missed," the Republic man scoffed.
Wait, stop. His 'colleague' still didn't realize that the warehouse worker and the sentient interrogating him were the same person? No, well — the Coordinator did have a makeshift balaclava on his face, but his voice, his voice…
Though, if this was an attempt to show he knew less than he actually did, it clearly wasn't working.
"Why wasn't this scheme with the pirate ships uncovered earlier?" he clarified.
"Because they only brought it into play when the Empire started attacking transport ships," the counter-intelligence officer explained. "Covering all their tracks — they somehow manage to find Republic bases, secret outposts, caravans heading to Bothawui and Elom — why wouldn't they be able to track supply shipments from here too? Their production situation is so bad that stealing military property is normal for them. Heck, that's why they sent you here in the first place..."
Uh-huh. Sent here. To crack the system's defense network and figure out what could be appropriated from the orbital warehouses. Judging by the scope of the "Vulture's" operation, there wasn't much of value left anyway.
"More than two hundred New Republic capital ships were disarmed at Sluis Van," Sergius said. "A hundred and fifty of them were rearmed. Then roughly three hundred escort frigates and other small vessels were disarmed. Why wasn't the scheme uncovered when the capital ships were being rearmed?"
"Because the Bothans were traditionally trying to screw everyone over," the counter-intelligence officer chuckled, clearly pleased with his own joke. "There's a directive from Supreme Commander Fey'lya — no more than half the weaponry is to be installed on newly rearmed starships. The other half is supposed to be funneled through gray schemes to the Bothans. By that point, we'd already stolen about as much as the Bothans demanded be handed over to them. So the ships weren't rearmed to half capacity, but to about a third — the weasel who handles the bills of lading and 'leaks' information about which containers will be requested and where they'll go, slightly doctored the documents, so nobody asks too many questions about the starships' armament."
"And no one even tried to contact headquarters about what was going on?" Sergius was stunned. This was a madhouse, not a military installation, honest to God. No wonder the "Vulture" felt right at home here. Chaos, farce, and a total lack of control.
"How many groups are working at the Sluis Van shipyards?" the coordinator inquired.
"Just ours," the man replied. "And even then, the last operation was supposed to be pulled off tonight. Now only me, the 'Vulture,' and the puppets among the customs officials and warehouse supervisors are left on the yards. The rest have evacuated."
"How many warehouse supervisors are working for the Vulture?"
"Heh," the counter-intelligence officer smirked. "Every warehouse has a supervisor cooperating with the 'Vulture.' They'll be dealt with later — along with the workers we're going to pin all the evidence on."
"Well, that's inventive," Sergius acknowledged. Without some of the finer details, this was exactly what he'd pieced together hours ago, lying on a beam under the roof of the military warehouse. "Do you know how they track containers and ships for interception?"
"The 'Vulture' and her buddy from customs handle that," the prisoner divulged.
That same scumbag who had harassed Sergius and the passengers on the shuttle he'd taken his first day at Sluis Van.
"Thanks for your cooperation," the coordinator said, having clarified a few more questions and determined the full extent of his interlocutor's further uselessness, he drew his combat knife. "And for those twenty thousand credits you got from the 'Vulture' for the job and carefully kept in the second safe — thanks for that too."
"Hey, what are you planning!" the Republican got worried. "You promised to let me go!"
"That's exactly what I'm doing," Sergius confirmed, and with one precise movement, he relieved the Republic Counter-Intelligence of a double agent.
"They ought to pay me extra from Coruscant for this job," he muttered, leaving the counter-intelligence officer's dwelling, which had burst into a good, strong flame.
And as soon as he turned the corner of the far building on the level, planning to leave the same way he'd come, he took about ten steps and felt something was wrong.
His hand instinctively found the grip of his blaster, and his body was already diving sideways, behind the cover of a garbage container. The space of the alley where he'd just been standing was slashed by several crimson blaster bolts from the darkness of the recess.
Notably — they shot from behind.
An ambush.
"Nimble Imp," came the irate muttering, clearly distorted by a helmet vocabulator.
"Yes, I am," the man grinned, pulling another blaster from a hidden holster in his combat suit. "Vulture, you're obviously getting rusty."
"Good, I'll warm up on you," the enemy fighter promised, emerging from the deep shadows of the recess into the dimly lit alley.
A garish red armor, distinctive clothing elements, helmet... No doubt about it — before him stood the "Vulture" of the "Zann Consortium" in full battle gear.
The "Vulture" of the Zann Consortium (or "The Despoiler" in another localization).
"I thought we'd found another way to warm up," the coordinator replied, quickly assessing the situation. An interesting trap, but there was nowhere to run — the maintenance tunnel he'd used to reach this level without being noticed was well sealed... Other than that, only walls, a garbage dumpster, and that was about it.
"What are you babbling about, Imp?" Even the helmet's vocabulator couldn't smooth over the genuine surprise in the "Vulture's" words.
"A little gift, I'm saying," Sergius unclipped several cylinders from his belt, "for you. From a kid on Tanaab you wanted to 'set up.'"
Tossing a thermal detonator at the "customs officer's" feet, Sergius forced her to abandon her advantageous position, jumping aside and covering her head with her arms.
But the thermal detonator had no intention of detonating.
Instead, the "Vulture" found a flash-bang canister that had fallen practically right in front of her face. And that one — actually did go off.
And Sergius was already lunging toward the enemy elite operative, delivering a heavy boot kick square to the "Vulture's" helmet with all his might.
Then the hand-to-hand combat began.
* * *
Once, in the Skaross star system, located deep in the Morshdine sector, battles had raged.
But that was almost four thousand years ago.
The last time this corner of the galaxy was used by sentient beings was almost immediately after we attacked the Hast shipyards and seized the "Katana Fleet."
This was where we set up our "holding pen" for captured equipment and space stations before they were transferred to the orbit of Susevfi, and now to the Karthakk system. The captured heavy cruisers of the "Avenger" class, obtained from Grand Moff Ardus Kaine, had also been here once, before their safety was fully confirmed and they were moved to Tangrene.
There are no inhabited planets or mineral-rich worlds here, no asteroid fields or anything like that. If there ever were, that's long since ceased to be the case.
A dead star system, perfectly suited for a secret rendezvous between the "Chimaera" and Thrawn's Hand.
Accompanied by one of Tierce's clones, as well as Rukh, I made my way to the main section of the Star Destroyer's hangar, where a starship of an unknown type rested — the one Mara Jade and the "Slicer" Zakarisz Ghent had escaped Coruscant on.
The same tactic as during the meeting with the Noghri Death Commando squads — the hangar is completely cleared of any witnesses. Flying halfway across the sector in a shuttle or allowing the "late" Jade to wander through the corridors and decks of my flagship would be foolish. And trusting these negotiations to communication lines would be dangerous. So, a personal meeting. The crew is already used to these quirks — they never knew what beings came aboard the "Chimaera" or why the hangar personnel were evacuated whenever my bodyguard went there. So it would work one more time. Except this time, instead of Rukh, who received reports from the Noghri and relayed their contents to me, I intend to speak with the Hand myself.
And with Ghent.
And with Winter, who was delivered with them.
Interesting how things are unfolding, ladies and gentlemen... How many iconic and legendary "characters" have I met in person? I've lost count. And now another one.
But I have nothing to discuss with that "Snow White." That's why Tierce led her, with a black opaque bag over her head, to a separate cabin, where she'll be held until she's returned to Tangrene. We'll decide what to do with her then. Though, to be honest, she's useless. Even dangerous. But she's a close friend and advisor, the voice of logic and reason in Leia Organa Solo's circle, who, in the events I know, also nannied the Solo children, ensured their safety, and so on. And much of that was thanks to her that the numerous kidnapping attempts against that "gang of kids" never succeeded.
For now, I turned into all ears, absorbing the information that Jade and Ghent were interrupting each other to deliver.
That a crossfire of information could be so irritating, I realized immediately. But I played my hand to the end without flinching. Then I was silent for a while, processing the data.
So, the data from the Imperial Information Center has been deleted and is unrecoverable. Is that bad? Well, no — at least the New Republic won't get its hands on important Imperial information. But neither will we.
However, there were alternatives... And quite a few holders of complete copies of that data array. Some are dead, some have gone into hiding, but there are those who could be "searched for." And the necessary information obtained. But for now, this operation moves into the "long-term prospect" category.
Right now, there were "more important" matters.
"You did good work, Zakarisz Ghent," I praised the "slicer." "Pack your things — you're staying on the 'Chimaera.'"
"Uh..." the fair-haired kid blinked, shifting his gaze from me to Jade. "Well, yeah, sure, only... I thought Mara and I were working as a pair..."
"When it becomes necessary," I told him. "At this stage, your cooperation is temporarily suspended. I need you on the flagship."
With someone like Ghent — soft and sensitive — one must act strictly but delicately. Like a father.
"Ghent," Mara looked at the "boy." "Get your things together."
"Yeah, I get it, I get it," the "slicer" got up and, with drooping shoulders, headed toward his cabin to pack. Mara and I were left alone.
The girl looked every bit as stunningly beautiful as during our last meeting. Except the mention of how she'd been "taken down" by the "Targeter" justifiably raised a few questions for me:
"Do you need time to recover and train?" I asked, staring intently at the girl, who, both in my past life and probably in this one, was young enough to be my daughter. And yet, time and again, I catch myself thinking that she... is attractive.
"It's not necessary," her gaze was like two emerald daggers. Apparently, the thought of two consecutive losses — on Vjun and against Winter — was seriously pissing her off. "I'm already training. It won't happen again."
"I hope so," I said. "What did you manage to find out about this ship and any potential problems from Ennix Devian's side?"
"The ship is good," Jade answered sharply. "If you'll allow it, I'd like to keep it."
"As long as owning this starship doesn't lead to your exposure, I have no objections."
"I've crawled every corner of it — it's clean," she said confidently.
"If you say so, I believe you." Actually, I would have preferred to have that vessel dismantled into pieces by the "Chimaera's" technicians, but right now it was important to show the red-haired Valkyrie that my faith in her was just as strong as before. Mara Jade might not realize it, but she depends on the approval of those she serves. Palpatine, Karrde, me... There's not much difference. If this girl chose a "patron," she'd bust her ass to make him happy. "Devian."
"There hasn't been any news about him for a long time," she said. "Ghent and I checked the HoloNet for information about him, tracked deliveries and cargo ship flights into the Ghost Nebula, requests for spare parts for Republic ships from the Clone Wars era — none of it is connected to Devian. No matter what crack he's crawled into, there are no 'threads' leading there."
"So be it," I agreed. "If he's in the Ghost Nebula, the Republic will find him, and the problem will be solved. Now I'm interested in the files that Zakarisz Ghent managed to obtain and decrypt."
A crooked little smile twitched on Mara's face.
"Ten percent," she said. "Ten percent of just the 'Imperial'-class Star Destroyers were in the Deep Core on mothball status at the time of Palpatine's death at the Battle of Endor. That's several thousand ships..."
Uh-huh. I'd even say it's a lot more, given that ISDs usually operated in battle groups.
"Analysis of ships reported missing?" I asked a new question.
"Still less rosy," she replied. "The vast majority of all existing Super Star Destroyers, except for the 'Executor' class — all disappeared. Their locations are unknown to the Republic. Coruscant consoles itself with the idea that perhaps the information about some projects is just Palpatine's disinformation."
"Let's assume," I agreed. "Those will be the New Republic's future problems — paying for their shortsightedness."
"It's going to hurt them badly," said Mara Jade. "Ghent cross-referenced data on the combat effectiveness of ships that 'simply disappeared.' In the overwhelming majority of cases, those figures are close to ninety to ninety-seven percent. Given that most of those starships were never in the service of dark Jedi, never accompanied Palpatine, or otherwise collaborated with Force-sensitive beings."
"In other words, Palpatine pulled the most qualified personnel into the Core," I tried to suppress the wave of irritation mixed with bitterness that washed over me. Essentially, after so many months of training, I'd managed to raise the efficiency of the crews under my command to no more than eighty percent. And that's not a 'hospital average' that's the maximum. The fleet average, and I'm only talking about Star Destroyers, is seventy-two percent. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind."
In fact, the situation reeked of kerosene. If Palpatine had taken command of the best troops from the collapsing Empire, opposing him would be difficult. Very difficult.
"Were the data on Byss obtained?" I asked.
"Unfortunately, only general information," the girl said disappointedly. "Same as about the equipment and supply depots in the Deep Core. However, it seems Palpatine has enough stockpiles to supply tens, if not hundreds, of millions of soldiers and sailors with everything they need."
"Byss," I repeated. "What did you find out about the planet?"
"Palpatine used this planet as a promotional campaign for resettling numerous sentient beings from Coruscant and overcrowded worlds," the girl said. "I managed to find a number of promotional materials or something located in an isolated and nearly inaccessible part of the Deep Core. Almost immediately after the Clone Wars ended, Palpatine cut off the Deep Core from free visitation, creating the Deep Core Security Zone, which was maintained by hundreds of warships of just the capital class alone. Access to Byss is only possible via the so-called Byss Run — an extremely unstable and dangerous hyperspace route. I discovered invoices for the supply of hundreds of S-stream accelerators, used to forge hyperspace routes where they shouldn't exist because of astrography issues, gravitational anomalies, or other galactic irregularities. The technology is unimaginably expensive — the budget is comparable to half of what was spent on building the 'Death Star.' But without using those accelerators, it was nearly impossible to safely reach the planet through hyperspace due to the high density of stars in the Deep Core and the constantly shifting patterns of the region's natural hyperroutes."
"Nearly?" I clarified.
"Exactly," Mara confirmed. "The files related to the exploration of Byss and the Deep Core in general indicate that this planet was once part of the Rakatan Infinite Empire. That's an ancient race that used the Force as an energy source for their technology, and with it, they conquered the galaxy."
Great. Now I'm starting to understand that Byss's remoteness is not the main reason Palpatine chose this planet as his secret throne world. I'd bet anything that some Rakatan technology was there all along, which the Emperor's scientists studied. Or... knowledge about the Dark Side of the Force... which is no better. Now I'm even more convinced that everything left on Wayland doesn't even compare to Palpatine's stockpiles in the Deep Core, and on Byss in particular.
"Byss is the fifth planet in the Beshkaek system, orbiting the star of the same name. Besides it, there's another habitable planet in the system, called Relus," the girl continued. "If the resettlement program data is to be believed, tens of millions of humans were delivered to both planets. And no fewer non-humans — I assume it was at their expense that Byss was built. Which, by the way, was officially considered a resort world and didn't attract much attention after the sentients were moved there. Except that an elite cheese supposedly produced there was sold on Coruscant," the girl paused. "Now I wonder if it was made from the non-humans Palpatine lured there, made into slaves... and had to dispose of somehow."
"Were any special categories used during the recolonization, or did they take anyone who wanted to go?" I asked. Byss interested me more than Mara Jade's potential attitude toward cannibalism.
"It seems like the latter, but what caught my attention is that among the settlers were thousands of specialists in various fields. As if Palpatine was creating a reserve of engineers, builders, mechanics, scientists..."
"That's most likely exactly what he was doing," I agreed. "Do we have information on how to reach the Byss Run?"
"Unfortunately, no," the girl shook her red mane. "Special codes are required. The security system is quite complex, and it doesn't stop with just the Fifteenth Deep Core Reserve Fleet, which set up checkpoints into the Core under Palpatine. There are fragmentary reports that a significant portion of the known hyperspace routes inside the Deep Core were mined, and the rest were protected by the Imperial Hyperspace Security Net — a system of gravity well projectors and hyperwave transceivers designed to monitor and control traffic entering and leaving the Deep Core. There are also reports that in addition to the ten percent of the entire Imperial Star Destroyer fleet stationed in the Core, the forces of an entire sector fleet were concentrated near Byss alone. Any unauthorized access to the planet results in the intruder's destruction. Multiple orbital defense stations, and not just any, but 'Golan III's. I also found a reference to the delivery of a huge number of reactors to power the planetary shield, so Byss might be even better defended than Coruscant in its heyday."
Heh, and I hadn't thought it was THAT well defended. Now I'm beginning to suspect that Skywalker Jr. didn't agree to study under Palpatine just for fun, thinking that way he'd learn all the secrets from the inside. Probably there was no other way to reach the planet.
"There's one more interesting thing," the girl said. "Concerning Force-sensitive beings."
"I'm listening," I replied readily.
"There's information about..." Mara stopped, turning her head: Ghent was emerging from his cabin. The "slicer" looked at us with an interested gaze, trying to guess why the red-haired lady had suddenly fallen silent.
"Rukh," I addressed my bodyguard. "Escort Mr. Ghent to the quarters prepared for him, and provide everything necessary for working on the New Republic's computers and encryption systems."
Ignoring the young prodigy's rounded, eagerly sparkling eyes, I remained silent until he left the ship.
"Continue," I said.
"Not all Jedi were exterminated by Vader or Palpatine's minions," she stated. "There are dozens of reports about captured Padawans and employees of the Jedi Order's AgriCorps. All of them were, one way or another, delivered to Byss, where they were kept for some time under the supervision of Palpatine's advisor — the Umbara Sly Moore. Then, there is a report from the commander of one of the ships that he delivered Vader to Byss. And Vader returned with four beings armed with lightsabers. From the description of one of them, I identified the person."
"Who?" I asked. Although, I think I remember...
"Antinnis Tremayne," she named. One of those who gained access to the Imperial Information Center. Interesting. "Vader trained him."
Well, well. The deeper into the woods, the more Darth Bane and the Sith keep spinning their "Rule of Two."
"Is that all?" I clarified.
"As for Byss — yes," the girl replied.
"The 'Black Fleet'?" I asked.
"In the Imperial archives, at least those Ghent downloaded, there is no information about what happened to the 'Black Fleet' after the Battle of Endor," the girl shook her head. Well, I'll have to hold onto the information I know for a little longer. "However, I managed to find indirect information about what they actually were."
"I'm listening," this would be useful, actually. I've already made mistakes relying on my own memories. And even a Chiss here might not immediately realize where exactly the error crept in.
"The Sixth Systems Army—also known as 'Black Sword'—was established back in the Clone Wars era as a reserve unit of the Grand Army of the Republic. Its mission was to repel any possible incursions from the Unknown Regions. At the same time, however, they constantly served as 'donors' of ships and personnel for other sectoral armies. Instead, their area of responsibility was filled with repair workshops and training camps. During the Imperial period, the territory that 'Black Sword' was tasked with guarding technically fell under a supersector, but no administrative reorganization ever took place. Ghent managed to dig up information showing that right up until the Battle of Endor, 'Black Sword' had at least five Type II orbital repair yards for localized maintenance and shipbuilding. A yard called 'Black-Thirteen' in orbit of the planet N'zoth in the Koornacht Cluster had a reputation as the best yard in the sector, thanks to the efficiency of the local Yevethan workers."
Right. Now I have a chance to clarify and legitimize some information.
"Yevetha?" I clarified. "The isolationist humanoid race from the Koornacht Cluster?"
"I looked them up on the HoloNet," Mara reported. "Not much, honestly. Good workers, quick to learn. But Republic researchers considered them rabid racists who hated and despised every other species."
"And suddenly they ended up under the control of a humanocentric Galactic Empire," I continued. "Any information about unrest, rebellions?"
"Not a single mention," Mara shook her head.
"That's impossible," I cut in. "Two ideologically opposed warrior peoples clashing cannot happen peacefully. The Empire would have had to suppress their worldview by force, which would have triggered massive protests from the local population, escalating into open revolt."
"Maybe that's exactly what happened, but Ghent and I didn't find any evidence of it," the young woman said. "Nor any data confirming that the retreat order for 'Black Sword' from their home bases—issued by Ysanne Isard almost immediately after news of the defeat at the Battle of Endor—was actually carried out."
"What do you mean, 'didn't find evidence'?" I narrowed my eyes. "No confirmation, or was the order not executed by the sectoral army command?"
I already knew the answer. But I needed to legitimize my foreknowledge somehow, without raising suspicion.
"The order was sent to N'zoth," Mara Jade said. "But the ships of the 'Black Fleet' never appeared anywhere again. It's entirely possible they went to Byss, taking everything valuable and blowing up the rest. The files have a note that the fleet was 'lost.' Possibly—deserted, defected to Palpatine, or destroyed by the Rebel Alliance."
"Or they're still in the Koornacht Cluster," I said. "And most likely—under Yevethan control."
"A mutiny, like you mentioned earlier?" the young woman asked.
"Quite possible," I replied evasively. "What else is known about the composition of the 'Black Fleet,' besides the five Type II ORYs?"
The young woman smiled.
"I'm sure you'll like this," she declared. "Three Super Star Destroyers, one of which is an Executor-class—menacing. The other two are fast Bellator-class dreadnoughts, similar to the one commanding the Fourth Fleet of the New Republic."
"But 'Crimson Dawn' was never part of the 'Black Fleet,' was it?" I asked.
"Exactly," the woman confirmed. "At least eight Star Destroyers were under construction in orbit of N'zoth. And roughly forty line ships, each at least as large as a Victory-class Star Destroyer, were on active combat duty. Incidentally, Ysanne Isard believed the fleet was destroyed in the Kal-Seti system, where a major battle took place with Rebel Alliance forces. There's intelligence from the Republicans that contradicts the Imperial data—allegedly some ships were withdrawn, while others headed not for Coruscant but into the Deep Core."
"Given Isard's proximity to Palpatine and her possible knowledge of his resurrection, the evacuation of 'Black Sword' could have been a prologue or part of an operation to build up forces for the Reborn Palpatine," I speculated. "Whether that's true or not, we won't know until we go to the Koornacht Cluster and verify the information firsthand."
"I'm ready to head there anytime," the Hand declared bravely. Brave little thing. No, dear, I have other plans for you.
"If the need arises, you'll receive that assignment," I said. "I'm interested in the rest of the information you were supposed to obtain. Zakarisz Ghent said he downloaded all the files I specified in the order. You haven't reported on everything I'm interested in. Continue your report, Mara Jade."
The red-haired agent narrowed her emerald eyes, as if trying to examine me under a microscope.
"You know, Grand Admiral, sometimes I'm amazed at the sheer volume of knowledge you seem to possess one way or another. Specifically—about Palpatine's superweapons." After these words, the young woman placed a portable holographic projector on the table in front of me. Above it, a white-and-blue volumetric projection of a massive... Ship? Station? Chunk of rock? It was hard to tell at a glance. But there was no doubt about what I was seeing right now.
This was it. One of the main reasons Mara Jade and Zakarisz Ghent had been sent to Coruscant.
"I'll take that as a compliment," I replied in an even tone. "Did you find information about it?"
"Of course," the young woman answered. "But only general data: the technical specification, supply orders, cost estimates, and extremely sparse information about the super-dreadnought's ultimate fate."
"I want to know that information." Our eyes met. "The details, not the scraps of information bandied about at court."
The woman was silent for a few seconds, then licked her lips and spoke.
"The 'Eye of Palpatine' was one of the first functional superweapons of the Galactic Empire. It was called both a dreadnought and a battle moon... According to the data, it was built inside a huge asteroid, roughly twenty kilometers long. The official reason for this was to avoid detection by enemy ships and worlds, though some speculated it was to keep its development secret from potential public and Senate outrage—or perhaps because it was converted from a large space rock to save on material resources."
"I'm aware of the palace gossip, Mara Jade," I reminded her. "The details."
"Analysis of the supply invoices from this giant's construction suggests its firepower is equivalent to that of an entire fleet of Star Destroyers. It could independently execute a Base Delta Zero order—that is, reduce the upper crust of any inhabited planet to molten slag using only its own weapons. Redundant deflector shield generators, a state-of-the-art sensor array, at least eight hangar bays located near the stern. Equipped with no fewer than six sublight engines. Interestingly, this weapon was unmanned."
"Controlled by droids?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
"Artificial intelligence," the young woman declared. "For some reason, Palpatine—who never trusted such technology—decided to install an AI on this particular superweapon."
"Possibly to maintain the confidentiality and secrecy of the 'Eye's' construction and mission," I speculated, based on data I already knew.
"Possibly," the woman agreed. "Probably for those reasons, most of the onboard equipment was supplied by SoroSuub from Sullust, while the Empire always preferred Kuat or Sienar. However, an engineer named Oran Keldor contributed to the development of this super-dreadnought—the same man who was involved with the 'Death Star.' Based on payment documents in Kel Dor's name, the estimated construction time for this ship was one year after the victory in the Clone Wars. Construction objectives are murky, but the planet Belsavis is repeatedly mentioned."
"What about that planet attracted Palpatine, that he created such a weapon just to visit it?" I asked. Though, once again, I simply knew the answer but couldn't 'legitimize' it.
"At court, I heard that after the Great Purge, a certain Jedi community was located on Belsavis for a long time."
"Large enough that Vader and the 501st Legion couldn't handle them?" I inquired.
"At that time, the Sith Lord was running around the galaxy, drowning one group of Separatist holdouts after another in blood," Mara recalled. "Incidentally, another hypothetical reason for Palpatine using a big rock to build the 'Eye' occurred to me."
"The construction of the 'Death Star'?" I asked.
"Exactly," the woman confirmed. "Both projects were funded from the government budget, and the Senate could have axed one of two similar ships. And at that point, Palpatine didn't yet have absolute power over the Empire, so one of the projects could have been killed."
"The 'Eye' was necessary tactically; the 'Death Star' was necessary strategically," I concluded.
"One way or another, Palpatine didn't want to provoke the Senate," Mara said. "The documents mention the stationing of stormtrooper contingents on the planets Pzob, Doom-Bradden, Kirdo III, Tatooine, and Alzoc III. As I understand it, the AI, upon receiving Palpatine's order, was to proceed to these planets, pick up the contingent, then set a combat course and destroy the Jedi on Belsavis. The stormtroopers were needed to handle any complications, defend the ship, or pilot its massive air wing. But, one way or another, the 'Eye of Palpatine' was lost for unknown reasons. At court, they appointed people responsible for the failure, and no one ever saw the 'guilty' parties again."
"Were there any attempts to contact the ship?" I asked.
"Dozens," Mara confirmed. "But after it was dispatched to Belsavis, no one ever heard from the 'Eye of Palpatine' again. The AI never made contact, and attempts to track its movements were unsuccessful."
"Is there data on the locations of the stormtrooper garrisons on those planets?" The chance to acquire reinforcements—even if they weren't loyal, they could still be sent in first—was valuable in itself. Not to mention they might have information about the 'Eye's' location or its home bases.
"Only general mentions," the young woman shook her head.
Just as I suspected—Palpatine had left only general data about his secret projects in the Empire. Or someone had scrubbed them during one of the ten database copying operations.
That's why (among other reasons) I needed a 'slicer.' Time to crack open the files I got on Wayland from Palpatine's private chip collection. In an era when Palpatine commands an elite fleet, the best soldiers and officers, enormous resources—a nearly twenty-kilometer asteroid with armament equivalent to an entire fleet would come in handy. It would really come in handy.
"Grand Admiral," the young woman said quietly.
"I'm listening," I replied.
"Ghent and I analyzed the procurement data for the 'Eye of Palpatine's' construction," she specified. "The Emperor spent an enormous amount of credits building that ship, but... Ghent has a theory that the purchased equipment would have been enough to support the functionality of at least two such super-dreadnoughts. But about the second... there's not the slightest mention."
"In other words," I said slowly, "there could be two giant asteroids out there in the galaxy, each with enough armament to destroy planets."
"Or there could be more such super-dreadnoughts," Mara added almost in a whisper. The young woman clearly didn't like that prospect.
And neither did I.
But I couldn't panic. Absolutely not. First, I needed to have Ghent crack open all the infochips from Palpatine's hoard on Mount Tantiss. Considering he created that long before building his battle planetoids and colonizing Byss, maybe there was far more information there. The information I was most interested in.
The 'Eye of Palpatine.'
"We'll deal with the 'Eye of Palpatine' and its possible doubles as more information comes in," I cut in, looking at the hologram of the massive asteroid. "Right now, you have a different assignment."
"I'll complete any of them, Grand Admiral," the young woman said. "But please, hear me out. There's some extremely interesting information."
"I'm listening." Had they managed to dig up something else interesting? Or gotten Winter to talk?
"The Star Super Destroyer 'Guardian,'" the young woman seemed to have decided to lay down a Pure Sabbacc right in front of me. "You assigned me to search for it."
"But then canceled the order," I stated.
"That's right." A sly, sarcastic, signature Mara Jade expression appeared on her face. "So, while Ghent and I were here, I asked him to search the HoloNet for procurement data that might relate to the restoration of a Star Super Destroyer."
Uh-huh. A needle in a haystack. A gizka in a herd of banthas. That's why I gave up on an immediate search, postponed the operation in favor of more pressing matters requiring immediate attention.
"So I take it you have results?" I asked for form's sake.
"A pretty solid lead," the young woman explained. "Transports assigned to Star Destroyers, planetary bases, and other Imperial installations have a secret digital ID tag to prevent theft or unauthorized movement outside their designated zone."
Something new.
"I used a search for the digital tags of 'Guardian's' ships, using similar tags from the 'Intimidator' as a reference, then applied corrections for 'Guardian's' ordinal number based on its launch date," she explained. "All in all... For the past few years, a T-4a Lambda-class shuttle has been appearing at 'Sestino' station, whose identification code is very similar to what a ship assigned to the 'Guardian' would have had."
"Which is unlikely if the vessel was destroyed," I perked up. Though it could just be a coincidence. So I didn't perk up too noticeably—a simple raised eyebrow sufficed.
"Exactly," the woman agreed. "Furthermore, it's highly suspicious that a ship from a 'destroyed' Star Super Destroyer is showing up at a station famous among pirates and other scum for its contraband shipments of Imperial ship parts, direct from Kuat and Fondor," she added.
Too good to just let this lead slip away.
"The shuttle arrives at the station at regular intervals, according to the hacked database," she said. "If I hurry, I can get there well before their next scheduled visit."
"Go," I ordered. I wanted to add 'And don't come back without the 'Guardian,'' but that would have been overkill. Mara was a smart girl; she'd figure things out herself. "All necessary resources for this operation will be available to you the moment you ask."
"Thank you, Grand Admiral," she smiled ironically. "But I doubt you have a Jedi on hand capable of improving my swordsmanship and my handling of the Force."
It seems this universe definitely has a sense of humor.
Sorry, Major Himron, but your search will have to be postponed and delegated to another operative.
I'm sorry, but I absolutely cannot let this opportunity slip.
"You'd be surprised by my capabilities, Mara Jade," I said with a slight smile, looking the young woman straight in the eye.
The red-haired beauty's delicate eyebrows shot up, her eyes went wide, and her lovely full lips formed an 'O.'
"What, seriously?" she blinked. "You really have one?!"
Achievement: 'Make Mara Jade Genuinely Surprised' successfully unlocked.