The tunnel of light dissolved into individual beams of white-blue light, which instantly turned into specks of distant stars — whose light, whether wave or particle, was far too distant to reach the Liinade III system in a short time.
Unlike Commander Vict Darron's rendezvous.
"Man your stations," he said abruptly, watching a dozen old pirate vessels drifting in orbit around the planet slowly come to life, reacting to the invasion of a system they had considered exclusively their own for several days. Not anymore. "Launch fighters and interceptors, raise deflectors, arm the guns. Scan frequencies and find me the channel that scum uses to communicate. Signal the Binder, tell them to warm up their gravity well projectors. Not a single bastard should leave this system or fly past us without a full broadside greeting. Move it!"
"Will comply, sir!" the watch officer replied. At first, Vict didn't understand why the executive officer hadn't answered. Then he remembered that serving in Grand Admiral Thrawn's fleet meant returning to strict adherence to Imperial Navy regulations. At least the ones that weren't the product of a sick imagination. "Sir, what about...?"
The Commander barely held back the urge to slap his own forehead.
How hard it was to get used to all these new protocols. Undoubtedly useful, but... When you serve under a tyrant for years and then return to actual active duty, your brain creaks a little. Just a little.
At least Thrawn had attached Captain Fulik's interdictor cruiser to his Star Destroyer's task group — fighting side by side with a familiar officer was much more reassuring. As for the other captains commanding the six heavy dreadnought-type cruisers and a dozen Corellian CR90 corvets acting as screening forces, Darron didn't know them by sight. But he assumed this wouldn't be their last joint deployment. As far as he understood, the Grand Admiral didn't forget to keep the most effective units united under one fist.
Speaking of screening ships.
And forgetfulness.
"Detach the escort corvette," he ordered. The watch officer, who had been just about to inquire about the fate of the ship suspended in the main hangar on cradles and manipulators (according to the specifications of Star Destroyers in service to Grand Admiral Thrawn, this modification was standard procedure), received the command. "Distribute the small craft among the cruisers according to the battle roster."
During the active combat phase, each Corellian corvette was supposed to cover its "flagship," a cruiser or Star Destroyer, from enemy light ships and fighters. For the protection of Aspiration and the six dreadnoughts, one CR90 was assigned each, while the Star Destroyer got three. Counting the additional one that Commander Darron's flagship had brought in its hold, that made four. Combined with the small craft squadrons stationed on every ship, this wasn't just an operational-tactical formation.
This was a fleet.
And right now, this fleet was about to demonstrate very clearly to the pirate scum why they shouldn't have lingered in the Liinade III system, robbing and terrorizing the local population.
"Sir," the communications officer addressed him. "We've detected a comm channel from the pirate flagship."
The latter was a battered old Marauder-class corvette that had probably seen the first battles of the Clone Wars. An old ship, sure, but its launchers and the missiles inside could cause a hell of a lot of trouble.
"Put them through," Vict demanded.
A few seconds later, a screeching voice came through the bridge's intercom.
"Whoa, Imperials! What do you want? This is our system!"
"Broadcast on an open frequency," the commander added to his order. The information he was about to deliver needed to be heard on the surface as well, both by the pirates and by the civilians. The latter, especially.
"What'd you say, Imperial?"
"Attention, everyone," Vict announced in a booming, practiced commander's voice. "This is Commander Darron, aboard the Star Destroyer Captain Rensen." The mention of their national hero, whose name the Grand Admiral, as Supreme Commander and acting ruler of the Ciutric Hegemony, had given to the former Direption, was sure to grab the attention of Liinade III's inhabitants. The commander's own name should be familiar to the locals too; he'd been patrolling here for years. "In the name of Grand Admiral Thrawn, who has declared his protectorate over the worlds and systems of the Hegemony, I demand that your pirate crew surrender, return the stolen goods, and compensate the locals for all damages incurred. Only then will you be allowed to live."
"And if not?" the pirate asked insolently. But there was already fear in his voice.
"The Liinade system is part of the Ciutric Hegemony," Darron continued. "Anyone who commits aggression against it will be destroyed, unless they lay down their arms."
"Oh, yeah, right, right," the pirate snickered. "Don't joke like that, Commander, or I'll bust a gut laughing. How many ships do you have? A Destroyer, an Immobilizer, and five Corellian corvettes? I've got a dozen vessels, and every one of them is armed so well, you won't think it's so funny..."
"Shut your mouth," Darron advised him. Glancing at the tactical monitor, he saw that Fulik on the Aspiration had already deployed all four gravity cones. In strict accordance with the Grand Admiral's instructions. Well, joining Thrawn was one thing. Picking up tactics on the fly that his subordinates used with ease was quite another. "And learn to count."
"Oh, it's no trouble for me," the pirate snorted. "I'll even name them for you the way I see your little ships. Trofy one, trophy two... Holy jedi shit! What the..."
Using a diverted gravity vector, the Aspiration pulled six heavy cruisers and an equal number of escorting Corellian corvettes out of hyperspace just ten units from the pirate fleet.
Vict Darron smirked crookedly, listening to the pirates' profanity-laced panic as they suddenly grasped the frailty of their existence. Because there was definitely no escape for them now. The Aspiration wasn't here for show.
"Commander speaking," he ordered the comm operators to switch to the tactical frequency of his subordinate ships. "Order to the formation: break the pirates."
An hour later, stormtroopers deployed to the planet coldly executed all captured pirates, both in orbit and on the surface.
With his characteristic persuasiveness, Commander Vict Darron explained to the civilians that the military tribunal, which he chaired, delivered verdicts very quickly.
Three hours after that, he reported to Ciutric IV that, by the decision of the public assembly, Liinade III recognized the supreme authority of Grand Admiral Thrawn.
* * *
The white tunnel dissolved into long needles of light, which then shrank to more modest sizes, revealing themselves to an outside observer as merely distant stars.
The Fury of the Abyss left hyperspace, and now the majestic ship, leaving its escort behind, moved toward a massive asteroid that, along with other space rocks, formed a vast asteroid field hanging in the cosmic void near the gray-orange sphere of the gas giant Minor Corvis V.
"Sir," the watch officer approached him. "Message from the Trapper. The pirate fleet has been destroyed."
"Relay it to Ciutric," the Star Destroyer's commander ordered. "Contact the third and fourth planets. Find out their condition after the pirate raid."
"Aye, sir."
The navigators and helmsmen had to sweat quite a bit to plot a course to this part of the system. Constant anomalies and gravitational fields prevented a direct lightspeed transit to the target, so they had to make a series of micro-jumps rather than crawl all the way to that huge rock called Distna. Just looking at it killed any desire to settle there.
Granted, according to scanner data, no one lived here at all.
And even if someone had tried, they hadn't succeeded.
The Abyss stood on the central dais of the bridge, observing a vast field of artificial wreckage. The aftermath of a fierce battle.
Some debris spun rapidly, others drifted peacefully, and still others continuously collided, but all of it filled the space between his Star Destroyer and the massive asteroid. Which was believed to be hollow. But the closer the Destroyer got, the clearer the scanner readings became, detecting the operation of several reactors. Apparently, some very clever being had shoved a ship-grade solar ionization reactor inside a hollow asteroid only slightly smaller than the infamous Death Star. But why?
Well, that would be determined soon enough.
What interested Antonias far more were the dozens, if not hundreds, of TIE fighter fuselages torn apart by explosions and riddled with precise laser cannon hits, along with several Headhunters and a multitude of crudely constructed fighters assembled from various scraps. The kind pirates used, those too greedy to buy proper equipment.
A major battle had clearly taken place here. And judging by the debris field, which included octagonal solar panel arrays from Imperial fighters, melted and twisted twin cockpits from bombers, torn-off wings, mangled hulls and starship parts larger than fighters, vessels of frigate or corvette class had also participated in this carnage. Perhaps even larger ones.
And there were bodies in black flight suits, some intact, some less so. Imperial pilots had died here. In large numbers. All in the best tradition of TIE fighter pilots.
Considering there were no ships from Grand Admiral Thrawn's fleet here yet, it was highly unlikely any of them were from the Ciutric Hegemony.
"Deploy shuttles to recover the bodies and wreckage," he ordered.
Conducting an on-site investigation was a thankless task. Let the ISB and Lieutenant Colonel Astorias handle it. Stormaer and his formation's mission was simply to drive the pirates out of the system, reconnoiter the situation, and offer the locals the Grand Admiral's protection.
Investigating the strange energy signature in the hollow asteroid was part of the reconnaissance. Figuring out the identities of the dead was someone else's job. The ISB would have to make do with the full scanner data he'd provide them, plus a couple of dozen captured pirates. Those guys should definitely know what happened here.
Antonias squinted. To the left of the ship, he saw the mangled fuselages of at least three X-wings and no fewer than two bodies in orange flight suits.
Well, well... a very familiar uniform.
"CIC," he contacted the hangar. "Launch a separate shuttle to recover Republic bodies and machines at point nine-three-three."
"Roger that, Captain Stormaer," came the reply.
"Sir," the watch officer approached him again. Also a clone, like the executive officer. Antonias had gotten used to these guys by now. His eye barely even twitched anymore. "Reports from Minor Corvis III and IV. Food production warehouses for xenos have been looted, several buildings destroyed. The locals are ready to rejoin the Ciutric Hegemony and become subjects of Grand Admiral Thrawn."
"Excellent." The Abyss watched as a Lambda-class shuttle, launched from the Star Destroyer's depths, used tractor beams to recover the bodies of the Republic pilots, still strapped into their ejection seats. For a moment, it seemed to him that the shimmering field of magnetic shields, holding in the atmosphere, was still active around the seats. If so, there was hope some of them were still alive. According to intelligence, besides the pirates, this system should have had pilots from the Republic's Rogue Squadron.
If that were the case, and even one of them was alive, he could consider the trophies from this battle impressive.
"Send a report to the Chimaera, sir?" the watch officer clarified.
"No," Antonias cut him off. Send Grand Admiral an incomplete report? What kind of idiot would do that? No, he'd have to conduct a preliminary investigation first. He didn't want to get a reprimand for insufficient initiative. After all, the journey here from Ciutric IV was long. And Aban on his Warlike hadn't finished in the neighboring system either. Darron on Liinade III, like Stormaer himself, had completed his assigned task. "First, we'll get the information on what happened here and what's hidden beneath the surface of that Hutt-damned asteroid. Launch landing craft to Distna. We'll sort everything out at once."
* * *
A minor culture shock. I'd gotten used to plenty of those, I had to admit. Still, it was worth acknowledging that during my first appearance here, I hadn't paid much attention to the planet's beauty.
But now, sitting in a chair woven from the vines of some unknown tree on the open veranda of the central wing of the planetary ruler's palace, watching the local star rise, I admired the view of the main settlement on the planet Ciutric IV, bathed in the yellow-orange rays of the sun.
The capital city of the Hegemony is called Daplona.
An industrial settlement, built up with majestic structures gleaming with Imperial precision. Wide causeways, a predominance of gray-white hues, angular architectural styles... traditional Imperial architecture, interspersed with older buildings that exuded individual charm and polish, mostly classified as cultural and historical heritage sites or residences of influential local elites. Among them, the Prince-Admiral's palace, formerly occupied by Sate Pestage, was, of course, the most luxurious of all.
A fairly wide river flowed through the city, its banks transformed into clean beaches and a recreation zone.
Not far from the river, against a backdrop of picturesque natural scenery, stood the most fashionable restaurant, which remained accessible even to the middle class, called the Shining Astara. I didn't know the origin of the name. Not yet, anyway.
Daplona housed a training center for TIE-type pilots. For the past few days, the center had been packed with reservists and mobilized men and women who had at least some idea of how to fly starships. They were being hastily, and consequently poorly, trained to be TIE Interceptor pilots. The result of such frantic preparation was self-evident. On the orbit, scavengers subordinate to the local garrison commander were still cleaning up the aftermath of the battle and clearing a minefield, simultaneously diligently offloading the surviving space mines into the arsenal. I would need this barrier weapon for defense later. Prince-Admiral Krennel might be a sadist, but he was far from a fool. His tactic of combining barriers with mass shadow generators was quite... interesting. It should be studied, interpreted, improved... and, yes, it could be used.
But I would need a lot of money to make the number of those mines match my plans.
However, what was located on the outskirts of the city also demanded attention.
Prisons.
Many prisons.
I would even say it was an entire prison city.
Hundreds of thousands of captured sentients were held here, along with a large number of the "Prince-Admiral's enemies." An investigative commission from the Morshdine sector, led by Lieutenant Colonel Astorias, had arrived during the night and was currently checking and double-checking information about political prisoners.
Yes, I could make a grand gesture and tell the prisoners they were free to go, that the master was feeling generous today. But despite the absolute sophistication of Krennel's actions and motivations, I was still confident that at least a small portion of them were there rightly "for a reason."
Just like the few high-ranking prisoners from Tangrene that we were transporting to Ciutric in the holds of cargo ships, with no way for them to know where they even were. Tangrene would henceforth be exclusively a forward military base. If the New Republic wanted to negotiate a prisoner exchange, that was fine — I'd give them all back. Especially since maintaining that horde of Republic POWs was costing a pretty penny from the budget.
Well, let Moff Ferrus handle politics and economics. That was his path. Work should be done by professionals, not amateurs and enthusiasts like me.
Still, I didn't really expect the New Republic to negotiate. The terms of the ultimatum were such that they would either have to admit their own helplessness in resolving the issue or come to the negotiating table and provide Imperial weaponry. I was sure it would be of the shoddiest quality. But again, that was a loss for the New Republic. For me, it was an opportunity to get equipment that could be repaired and sent into battle. Or stripped for parts.
"Grand Admiral," came the voice of Moff Ferrus from the entrance to the veranda.
Judging by the fact that the guards on duty had let him through, it was important.
"Come in, Moff," I offered. A few seconds later, the governor of the Morshdine sector settled into the chair next to mine.
Now, only an expertly crafted transparisteel table separated us, holding a carafe of mineral water on a chrome-plated tray and several glasses that no one had touched since the droid waiter had set them out right after my arrival.
"I've finished analyzing the political and economic situation in the Hegemony," the Moff informed me.
"Go on," I ordered.
"It's not nearly as rosy as Commander Darron made it out to be," Felix grimaced.
"I didn't expect anything else," I remarked. "I'm interested in details, not a statement of the most obvious facts. If everything were fine here, the local military would be fighting each other for the right to declare themselves the new Prince-Admiral."
"I agree, sir," Felix admitted. "So, I'll start with the budget and auridium-currency reserves. They're gone."
"Stolen?" I inquired.
"Squandered," the Moff replied. "Krennel bought everything necessary for his sector at prices dozens of times higher than market value. His main sources of supply were either barter with other Imperial Remnants or the black market. Both places bled him dry. His latest expenditures — hiring pirates, purchasing defensive products, arming captured starships — drained the treasury almost to the bone."
"I doubt that's entirely the case," I said. "He had to pay the pirates. He had to fund his military's service. Consequently, he must have had some reserves left."
"Just over forty billion, sir," Moff Ferrus confirmed.
"That's not much less than we have, considering all our reserves," I noted. "So what's the problem?"
"The problem is that the Prince-Admiral was spending nearly thirty billion a month just on maintaining his bureaucratic and other apparatuses," the governor of the Morshdine sector lamented.
"Moff Ferrus, I'm far from an expert on sector economics. In your opinion, is that a reasonable level of expenditure?"
"The analysis of the accounting, budget, and revenue-expenditure items has only just begun, sir," the interlocutor replied. "I can't say anything yet. But I hope these expenses are so high only because of corruption or various forms of embezzlement."
"Good," I agreed. "Look into it. I want to know the results. The sooner, the better."
"Analyzing something like this quickly won't be possible," Felix stated immediately. "It's a huge, complex bureaucratic machine. Understanding it requires time and document evaluation. Judging by the records, Krennel didn't deal with internal problems at all, so it's likely the expenses are high precisely due to corruption. Some money-laundering schemes are practically visible to the naked eye, but cutting them off without understanding the process itself is virtually impossible. Semi-legal cash flow schemes are standard practice for financing residencies, black market trade, bribing informants, or acquiring banned technologies. If we cut them off without understanding the cause-and-effect relationships behind their existence, yes, we'll stop the money drain. But at the same time, it could lead to an intelligence crisis or something similar."
"Lieutenant Colonel Astorias will provide you with any necessary assistance," I ordered. "As will our intelligence officers. Is that all on economics?"
"Yes, Grand Admiral," Felix agreed. "I'll provide the details when we have them. If I may, I'd now like to outline the political realities."
"I'm listening."
"So, currently, the Ciutric Hegemony is a conglomerate of about twenty-five prosperous worlds. There is currently no unity among them; there are internal contradictions and problems. This is largely because, in addition to the 'original' territories of the Hegemony — which under Sate Pestage occupied a much larger area of this galactic region — Prince-Admiral Krennel couldn't hold them all under his control. So he compensated for the lost worlds and systems by conquering other territories from adjacent sectors. For instance, he lost the Axxila system in the D'Astan sector, which could have rivaled Ciutric IV in economic profitability. But that system didn't return to the D'Astan sector either; it declared itself independent. In its place, Krennel captured the Vrosinri system in the Nidjun sector, which is astronomically located between Morshdine and Ciutric," the Moff explained.
"Let's get back to the Hegemony," I ordered. "How economically stable are the systems and planets?"
"Ciutric IV is a major cultural and industrial center," Ferrus answered. "Enrichment, processing, and manufacturing are concentrated here. In effect, the Prince-Admiral moved the most valuable enterprises here to economically tie the other systems to the metropolis. If they seceded, exporting their products to other systems and sectors would simply be economically unviable for them. Only a few planets have their own production, and even that is too small-scale."
A reasonable move. From a colonial economics perspective, of course. The colonies extract minerals and other necessary resources, while the transformation into real goods happens in the metropolis. Good, I'll remember that.
"Liinade III," the Moff continued, "is an agro-industrial world. Its development began closer to the twilight of the Galactic Republic and continued under the Galactic Empire. It also has light industry, producing comlinks and caf synthesizers. The facilities are small, but the product quality is excellent. Minor Corvis III is a semi-arid planet in the Minor Corvis system. It features moderate zones at the poles. Exotic xenobiological products were produced there, sold as luxury items. Minor Corvis IV is engaged in similar production. Minor Corvis V is a gas giant with six moons and an asteroid belt. Metal mining was conducted in the latter, and gases were extracted from the gas giant."
"Tibanna?" That gas was essential for energy weapons, from simple blasters to turbolasers.
"Possibly, sir, but it will take more time to determine that from the waybills and supply schedules. For now, this is just general information."
"Continue."
"The Binkaros system. A Separatist base was once located here. Now the world, after an Imperial purge, doesn't stand out much from the others. A more subsidized region of the Hegemony than it could be. With some effort, a decent military infrastructure could be built there, dealing with military equipment assembly or soldier training. Logical accessibility minimizes transport costs and expenses. And for construction... sir, we have several hundred thousand Republic prisoners just sitting on our hands. I would ask your permission to use them as a labor force. We cannot afford to spend millions of credits on their maintenance and feeding without getting anything in return."
"And how effective would that labor be?" I inquired.
"In the short term, we won't have to spend huge sums on purchasing construction droids," the Moff explained. "We'll do it all with prisoner labor. If their numbers dwindle or they're all exchanged at once… well, we can involve the local population too. But until we get a handle on the current state of the economy, I'd refrain from external spending."
Especially given that we don't know for certain how the other Imperial Remnants view my actions. Well, noted.
"I support that," I said. "Look into it and give me concrete proposals. Next."
"Liok — another planet. Also unremarkable. Here Krennel trained the ground units of his army. Not stormtroopers, certainly, but they don't meet Imperial regular army standards either. Still, enormous resources have been invested here. I won't judge the quality of the facilities, but it seems to me it would be a good place to continue training the local population. Mobilization drills, retraining. Imperial laws permit it, and given the policy of equal rights, it could attract a considerable number of non-human species to active service. They, in turn, could be used to train crews for patrol and defense flotillas, or raiders."
"Prepare a detailed proposal, first sending inspectors to evaluate the complex and provide a conclusion on the feasibility of continued operation," I ordered. There's no point in tearing down the "old" if it can still be used. A training center for infantry, walker operators, ground forces, and the flotillas the Moff mentioned is indeed necessary.
"New Holgha is a planet known for its Five Sacred Cities, a long-standing trade center in the Ciutric sector. However, it lies on the Selonian Route, between Shaum Hii from the Tragan sector and Vinsoth in the Quelli sector. The former are members of the New Republic with direct representation in the Senate. Moreover, the locals were heavily entangled in the past with the criminal organization Black Sun."
"And Vinsoth?" I inquired.
"This is far more interesting, sir," the Moff smiled. "Vinsoth is not part of the New Republic. Because slavery is openly practiced on their planet. One of the local races, the Chevin, conquered the humanoid Chevs, enslaved them, and have ruled them for a considerable time. They lead a native lifestyle, but located at the intersection of hyperspace routes, this planet could become a fortress world with a strategic position. For instance, you cannot fly past Vinsoth either to the Morshdine sector or to the Ciutric Hegemony."
"I've already considered that, Moff," I said, watching the first airspeeders rise over Daplona. The capital was waking from its slumber. "We'll take that step when we're ready. But not now."
"As you command," Ferrus sighed, clearly disappointed that his strategic initiative wasn't needed immediately.
Meanwhile, the question of subjugating Vinsoth had been on my mind ever since the planning stage of Operation Crimson Dawn. By taking control of this world, we could concentrate our defenses there and thereby reduce the number of forces needed to hold systems for their defense. The local slave population, the Chevs, are quite submissive. Their will to resist has been broken, and they obey their masters completely. The masters themselves hold little significance on the galactic stage. But at the same time, one must understand that, unfortunately, capturing and fortifying Vinsoth will come at enormous financial cost. Building a fortress from scratch is not cheap. Not to mention that many illegal trafficking routes pass through Vinsoth, and the place is a haven for smugglers and pirates who frequently stop here to purchase slaves. Formally, we could strike precisely on the grounds of one race oppressing another, but for that we need a solid pretext along with an "information bomb." You can't just walk in and seize a planet because you feel like it. You have to explain why it was necessary — not to your subordinates. To the galaxy. Because otherwise you might find the galaxy on your list of enemies overnight.
Not to mention that those who buy their "merchandise" from the Chevin will show up to support them.
And yes, there's something else that delays the attack on Vinsoth.
Vinsoth is not the only world through which one can fly to the Morshdine sector.
The infamous neutral planet Axxila is also an intermediate point from the Perlemian Trade Route to Tangrene.
There is a hyperspace route — Axxila-Tangrene, which we ourselves used to get out of our systems. At present, it is the only widely known path into the Morshdine sector. And you can reach Axxila by two routes: from Vinsoth, or via the Celanon Spur of the Perlemian Route, which passes through the D'Astan sector.
The Baron doesn't need Axxila — too many problems with it, and in fact it's a hotbed of crime. The local government is willing to cooperate with anyone who provides large financial infusions to their economy. An ecumenopolis, after all. That is, literally, a city covering almost the entire surface of the planet.
Ragez continues his secret cooperation with me, but if it comes down to it, he won't be able to block the Celanon Spur for long enough. So there's only one option: first I need to acquire Axxila, then Vinsoth. And also one of the planets located along the Selonian Route "north" of the Ciutric Hegemony. That way, all the most optimal routes into the center of the Ciutric and Morshdine sectors will be cut off. This will allow us, given the circumstances, to hold a circular defense. And the more resources are "pumped" into the latter, the better.
Especially considering that the Yuuzhan Vong invasion corridor, if memory serves, passed right through these sectors.
Such a conundrum — a contradiction between tactical and strategic advantage.
Tactically, it benefits me to control the Ciutric Hegemony. Especially in light of its mobilization resources and developed industry.
Strategically, it is one of the primary targets for Yuuzhan Vong conquest. It would be far safer to stick to the original plan — to establish my state in the southern parts of the galaxy, where the Yuuzhan Vong invasion forces won't reach, and consequently neither the economy nor infrastructure would suffer major damage.
However, I'm beginning to suspect that certain higher powers in this galaxy see fit to unfold events so that I end up at the epicenter of the greatest upheavals planned here. Which frankly does not please me. But to just walk away after putting in so much effort… that would be at least foolish.
Yes, I have the Karthakk system, and it is an excellent outpost from which it would be virtually impossible to dislodge me. But it is a territory whose development will take a long time — even with significant financial infusions and labor reserves. The same goes for the planet Yalara.
The Ciutric Hegemony and the Morshdine sector, especially with the support of Baron D'Asta, are already essentially a ready-made "product" that only needs to be adjusted.
And there are certain doubts that the original plan — to "die beautifully and fade into the shadows so as not to become part of Palpatine's campaign" is already beginning to crack at the seams. Because I very much doubt that the madman will leave alone a territory that has sworn allegiance to me. Even if I am considered dead.
However, there is an excellent example of Imperial territories that continue to exist right in the heart of Republican sectors. Some due to their insignificance, like Trogan, Columex, Makem Te, or the Chasin system.
But there are also more "aggressive" examples.
The planet Brintooin, under the protection of the commander of a legendary Imperial army unit. Colonel Zel Johans built such a system of defense and self-sufficiency for the worlds loyal to him that the Republicans preferred not to mess with him, understanding that these planets could not be taken with little bloodshed, but that they themselves could easily be drenched in blood.
In fact, one of the reasons for my broadcast across the galaxy was precisely a veiled appeal to Imperials — former and current. I hope they understand that the days of the New Order, at least under my command, are over. And my new policy is nothing more than an invitation to return to their duties.
Well, we'll see if it works. Not enough time has passed to think that hordes of sentients disillusioned with the Imperial Remnants will come rushing to me. It takes time for minds to readjust and for sentients to choose the option best for them.
Meanwhile, I need that time to separate the wheat from the chaff, bring up reserves, and strengthen the front. Because the longer Operation Crimson Dawn goes on, the more side issues need to be resolved.
"The remaining systems are unremarkable," the Moff explained. "They either produce agricultural goods or mine minerals from asteroid fields or uninhabitable planets."
"Now I suggest we assess our 'neighbors,'" I said. "We know the D'Astan sector well enough. What can you tell me about the Quelli sector?"
"A couple of years ago, under the command of Warlord Zsinj, this territory was relatively attractive and obeyed Imperial laws. But with the appearance of Zann Consortium agents there, Imperial influence has waned. Zsinj didn't pay much attention to fighting them, so now, after his death, most of the planets there are in a state of anarchy. Some have become welfare worlds of the New Republic, others remain under the control of various bandits or Imperial deserters. In my opinion, Quelli is one big cesspool where we would certainly not be welcome. Conquering this territory would require a huge army and all the resources of our fleet."
"Good," I nodded, though I had hoped to hear something different. "What about the Nidjun sector? Which contains our own system Vrosinri. And if you don't mind, I'd like to hear economic and political information. I'll handle the military assessment and strategy myself."
"My apologies, Grand Admiral," the Moff coughed into his fist. "I got carried away. So… the Nidjun sector. For the most part, it's a backward sector with undeveloped industry. Most of its population has long been used in various semi-criminal structures. For example, the Aar'aa race from the planet Aar in the system of the same name. Sentient reptiles that the Hutts often use as enforcers. Known for their numerous crime lords. The Kabierun system is also not particularly attractive for cooperation — during the reign of the Galactic Empire, the local species was cruelly enslaved by our armed forces, which predisposes them to reject Imperial truths and laws. However, I must note that a significant part of the sector consists of systems devoid of sentient life. We can annex them to our territories using Imperial provisions on pioneers and their appendices. Such systems include Mentanar Vosk, Vannan, Nidjun itself, Mezerian. There may be some problems with the Vannan system, as illegal mining operations seized from the Empire are located there. Vannan crystals were mined there, which were highly valued on the black market and among collectors…"
"Which in turn could become one of our territories' export items," I noted. "Is that not so?"
"That's correct, sir, but I must note that in the Nidjun sector there are no hyperspace routes as such, and travel is done on a 'planet-to-planet' basis. This place has always been notorious for pirate gangs and crime; just the planet Aar alone is worth mentioning. There may be certain problems with the Hutts."
"And this sector could also serve as a reserve logistics hub and a location for industries that need to be hidden from prying eyes," I said. "The sector lies precisely between the Ciutric and Morshdine sectors. Subjugating it will allow us to unite three sectors under one authority."
"That's true, sir," Moff Ferrus agreed after a moment's thought. "The resulting agglomeration will be largely self-sufficient, but will require large financial infusions to develop the territories. The Galactic Empire was essentially uninterested in what happened here, as it already had developed mineral deposits and at best controlled everything in the New Territories through moffs or planetary governments. It will take considerable effort to overcome the technological backwardness and establish stable logistics chains between the systems. Not to mention that the pirates and other bandits in the Nidjun sector…"
"They are not a problem," I said. "Captain Shohashi, after his ships are repaired, will be happy to deal with such matters. No obstacles are anticipated to bringing the Nidjun sector under our authority. Sentients are mostly passive in the face of strong power — our task is to demonstrate that the power will not only be strong but also intend to develop this rancor pit. Which, in turn, implies vacancies for settlers, explorers, and armed escorts. You will have to handle the recruitment of appropriate personnel — both from among the existing loyal population and through the program of buying slaves from the Hutts, Zygerrians, and other slavers. Freed from bondage, deprived of the ability to establish a life anywhere except under our rule, they will settle on new planets."
"Yes, of course, sir, I understand, but…"
Sprizen sector.
"You will handle the assimilation of the Sprizen sector in a similar manner," I ordered. The Moff, after a pause, pulled his datapad from the inner pocket of his tunic, clearly intending to consult reference information. Understandable — who remembers offhand what the neighbors are "rich" in? Personally, I'm not ashamed to say that living in one region of my homeland, I had no idea what cultural and economic realities existed in another subject of my homeland. And if you correlate that to an entire galaxy… In general, it's easier for me to operate with such information because I already familiarized myself with it after the clone of Ysanne Isard was delivered to the Chimera. And the need arose to deal with current affairs. While the New Republic is positioning its pieces for a new game where I need them, I should pay close attention to everything necessary in the short term. "It, like Nidjun, is also located between Ciutric and Morshdine, but further south. And just like its predecessor, it is sparsely populated. We will take over the empty star systems, and we must negotiate with the colonized ones, outlining all the positive prospects of cooperating with us. No one will hinder their movement or trade, but neither will we care for their development or security if they maintain neutral status. At present, we have a specific interest in the Sprizen sector — rhydonium from the Abafar system. And the local population is sufficiently pleased with our mutually beneficial cooperation. They should be the first to join us. In the Asher system, there was once a rebel cell that was cleansed by the Imperial fleet. As far as I know, the system has little population and independence — so the population will likely have no strong objections either."
"But such objections might arise in the Esuma system," the Moff declared. "Two or three years ago it was under Imperial quarantine. The Esumans have since become known as some of the most sought-after thugs, mercenaries, and other dregs in this region of the galaxy. Pirates especially often hire them."
"And we will hire them too," I stated. "We don't have enough troops to guard every colonial settlement. The Esumans may respond with great eagerness."
"I'll work on that point," the Moff sighed, understanding that no other candidate for the job was even considered. "The Jagdiri system… They produce their own brandy, which was on the list of beverages not recommended for human consumption due to increased fatty tissue formation when drinking it. The Empire imposed heavy fines on producers and distributors because it affected the successful development of the New Order. In fact, among Imperial human citizens, this drink has no demand at all because of its specific taste. The producers cooperate with pirates who guard their shipments from other pirates, so I'm sure they too have grievances against the Empire."
"That's precisely why we will approach them with an offer to help guard their shipments instead of pirates," I explained. "And we will make efforts to get their product onto the export market. In large quantities. After all, non-human races are not prone to the side effects of drinking this beverage?"
"As far as I know — yes, sir."
"Excellent," I said. "The ban itself should also be lifted — we can't claim we're striving to uphold the rights and interests of various races if we're strangling entrepreneurs whose tax revenue should become one of the treasury's income streams, isn't that right, Moff?"
"I suppose I'll have to handle that too?" Ferrus clarified.
"You have undoubtedly and very accurately noted your role in resolving the problem," I confirmed. "I'm sure you have enough tact and ingenuity to solve it."
"The New Agamar system is an agricultural world, as is Agamar itself, where settlers from the latter live. A peaceful planet trading in cheap food products. It holds no particular interest, since the low cost of its products stems from their low quality. Essentially, they would do better to produce some kind of nutrient paste — that would at least be better."
"Or biomolecular mass," I squinted.
"Like on New Cov?" Ferrus caught on instantly.
"Precisely," I confirmed. "However, intelligence will handle solving this problem."
For one simple reason — the technology for producing biomolecular mass seems to be exclusive to New Cov. So you won't find a "factory blueprint" on the HoloNet. But buying it out… that's possible, why not? Especially considering that no one really cares about such production. Why would they, when rations are cheap and large armies are always on budget allocation and supplied with everything they need. For us, such production would only help save resources.
"The Priole Danna system holds little interest, except that it is the starting point of a namesake music festival that travels across the galaxy to the southern sectors," Moff Ferrus read from his screen. He was silent for a moment, then it seemed like a revelation struck him. "Right, now I remember. It's an annual cultural festival of music and art that originated from the Shapani subsector."
"Not quite, Moff," I noted. "The Shapani subsector was created from a state entity known as the Free Worlds Territory in the Tapani sector. They only became known as the Shapani subsector after the Galactic Empire invaded there no more than six years ago."
"Understood, sir," Ferrus sighed. "The Portminia system holds little interest. A backwater planet, nothing more. But compared to the planet Thailia from the system of the same name, it looks much more presentable."
"You're saying that the planet Thailia is the home of Thailian swamp slime?" I clarified.
"Exactly, sir," the Moff confirmed. "Slime — that's all there is. And it's useless."
"First of all, we're talking about algae," I clarified, informed about this thanks to a specific reference on the HoloNet. "Secondly… well, not every world in the galaxy can be full of minerals, precious stones, or billions of volunteers ready for conscription. We work with what we have."
"The planet Sprizen, capital of the sector, is a backwater trading world, a haven for smugglers and other scum…"
"Who could easily become captains of our transport ships if we motivate them sufficiently," I noted. "The New Republic tried to pull something similar with Captain Solo a few months ago. But given the alternative of 'highly profitable smuggling versus backwater trading,' a smuggler will always choose the former."
"Such people can only be motivated by force of arms," the governor of the Morshdine sector grumbled.
"First, we should meet with representatives of the planet's government and discuss the matter of peacefully joining our expanding state," I noted. "As for the smugglers… you can't reject something just because it was devised by your enemies."
"Sir?" the Moff tensed.
"Continue," I ordered. A thought had already clicked in my mind about how to use the empty worlds in the sectors. Give a fertile world to the Noghri, for example. Relocate the Jensaarai and the Susevfi population to more suitable conditions, using a moon as an outpost. Especially since one of the planets would be perfect for cultivating semi-sentient trees from Ithor and harvesting their pollen, which destroys the organic structure of Yuuzhan Vong technology. At least I hope so.
But that last comment was exclusively about the smugglers. And pirates. Not all of them will agree to cooperate, of course. But what alternatives are there when you're being hunted across all the neighboring sectors? Pirates will go to crew raiding "wolf packs" operating deep behind New Republic lines — and several remote star systems under my control will be perfect for basing them.
And the smugglers... Yes, they could retrain as regular pilots. Or they could keep doing smuggling. Fly everywhere, look everywhere, gather information... Yes, that's right. Why not acquire my own organization, similar to the one Talon Karrde runs? After all, information is the most important strategic resource in any kind of war.
"The planet Salin lies at the intersection of two important regional trade routes," Moff Ferrus continued. "The Salin Corridor, in fact, begins here and—"
"I don't need reminding that this is the longest hyperspace route in the entire Outer Rim," I assured him. Along this "road" you can travel from the northern parts of the galaxy to sectors in the galactic east. To Saleucami, for example.
And the Veragi Trade Route... That's the hyperlane in the northern part of the galaxy, whose "apex" is the Sernpidal system. Yes, this very route lets you travel both through the Ciutric Hegemony toward the east and south of the galaxy, and toward the western parts — into the Pentastar Alignment. Or the Imperial Remnant, which remained there in the events I know about, ten years ahead in the universe's timeline.
Yes, controlling worlds at the intersection of hyperspace routes is important. Especially when you remember that the Yuuzhan Vong armies will march along these very routes. So, my motivation to subjugate these territories faster and start turning them into fortresses is stronger than ever.
"Well, and finally... Ramoa," the Moff ran a hand over his face. "The Ramoans live there. Because of their external resemblance, they're considered relatives of the Gamorreans."
"That doesn't matter much," I noted. "The Ramoans are just as lacking in intelligence as the Gamorreans. But they can become a cheap alternative for manpower on the battlefield or when colonizing hostile territories. Same as the Esumites."
"A big army for little money," Moff Ferrus nodded knowingly. "Good, sir. I understand. There's a lot of work ahead, but while counterintelligence and the auditors are busy solving the mysteries of Ciutric accounting, I suppose I'll start preparing diplomatic notes to the worlds we need to contact and negotiate with about voluntary annexation."
"Start with Axxila," I advised-ordered, watching the ysalamiri sleeping on my legs finally stretch and yawn, showing its little fangs. "An ecumenopolis with its own economy and a pro-Imperial population is our top priority."
"There might be problems with Baron D'Asta," Felix grimaced. "Aristocrats, they're like that... Today they offer a helping hand, and tomorrow they try to strangle you with it because you looked sideways at a flyer they considered their own."
"There won't be problems with the Baron," I said with the confidence only a man possessing the Baron's own consent to annexation could have. He really dislikes having such a criminal den in his backyard. But he's not about to spend the strength, money, and lives of his people to wipe out a pirate-smuggler gang that's trying to seize power on the planet for good. He's quite satisfied with what's happening there now. He is. I'm not. "You should make every effort to voluntarily bring these sectors under our authority and normalize all spheres of life in them, as well as on loyal planets and systems that express such a desire. Deadline — two months."
So by the end of the year, four disparate sectors should become one small state by galactic standards.
Which I haven't even named yet. Seems like such a small thing...
"In that case," Felix darkened, stood up, and straightened his clothes. "Please excuse me, but business won't wait."
Well, he's in for a rather unpleasant two months.
"One more thing, Moff Ferrus," I filled a glass with water from the decanter and let the lizard drink. "Your loyalty to duty and to my endeavors will not go unnoticed. You're doing too much to limit your influence to just the Morshdine sector. Now you'll be responsible for territories four times larger than before. I see it and I appreciate it. You're doing an excellent job as head of the civilian administration. The Galactic Empire could have been different if more people like you had led it."
"That is my duty, Grand Admiral," Felix sighed, clearly flattered to hear gratitude for his excellent service. "I live to serve."
"Excellent words," I said. "You may go, Moff."
"Yes, sir," clicking his heels, the man left the attic, leaving me alone to admire the beauty of the dawn on Ciutric IV.
The metal bar lying in the inner pocket of my tunic stayed there, never seeing the light.
It's still too early. He needs to get his hand in. I have no doubt he will — not without mistakes, but this man truly is a brilliant administrator. He just lacks experience stepping outside his comfort zone.
Well, now he'll get it — solving the problems of new sectors and systems in such a short time... Yes, that'll take some effort. And I'm confident he can do it. That's when the time will come for new bars.
Then we'll talk about promotion.
Before the third phase of Operation Crimson Dawn ends, I need to be sure the civilian administration is in the right hands.
* * *
"I think this is a stupid idea," Fodeum declared, watching the Inquisitor drop a coil of rope into a hole in the ground, its end secured on the surface. "Only a Hutt knows what could be in these caves."
"Crystals for lightsabers," Reynar replied, looking at his "apprentice." "The fact that this cave has survived for millennia is a good sign."
"Probably," the Jensaarai shrugged.
"You probably don't understand," Obscuro said angrily. "Finding natural crystals for a lightsaber is extremely rare. We might not find anything else particularly useful in the Enclave ruins. But crystals — that's something. Because they're rare. In the Inquisitorius, they smelted them in furnaces, but that technology is unknown to me. Rumor has it natural crystals might have special properties. Like calming or enhancing concentration."
"Yeah, you could use a little more calm," Fodeum agreed. "You're angry as a sarlacc."
"Your mother didn't beat you enough as a child," the Inquisitor noted. "Be glad I'm not your father."
"I regularly offer prayers to all known deities three times a day for this great gift," Fodeum nodded. Reynar looked at him with narrowed eyes. The Jensaarai yawned. Well, what did you expect? I told you — embrace your nature. So there, enjoy it.
The Inquisitor clicked his tongue: "We're honestly lucky the cave didn't collapse in all that time. That means there might still be something to find there."
"I think we're lucky that Vex was able to read that inscription on the Enclave ruin wall," the young man said, correcting his mentor's words. "Or maybe it was the will of the Force all along."
"Doesn't matter," the Inquisitor snapped several glow rods, waited for the chemical lights to activate, and dropped them into the pit — which he'd previously made in the top of the hill with his lightsaber. "You coming with me, or are you going to keep contemplating the serenity of the Dantuin plains?"
"Coming with you," Fodeum spun around sharply, feeling as if someone had tickled the back of his neck. But behind him stood only centuries-old mighty trees, their crowns whispering in the wind's tongue. "We should have brought someone from the expedition for security."
"Let them handle the Enclave excavations," the former Inquisitor cut him off, attaching his carabiner to the rope and backing toward the pit's edge. "I'll reach the bottom and report the situation."
"This is a cave," Fodeum reminded him. "A comlink won't penetrate the rock."
"Yeah," the Inquisitor agreed. "Your mouth isn't just for talking and eating, my young apprentice."
With those words, Reynar jumped into the pit and disappeared.
"Big Jedi he thinks he is," Fodeum grumbled.
"I can hear you," a voice drifted up from the cave's depths. "Get down here before your crazy girlfriend runs over and starts playing mommy."
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Fodeum, feeling that tickling sensation at the back of his neck again, turned around. But the trees were silent again, and the solid green of the leaves aroused no suspicion.
Attaching his carabiner to the rope, the Jensaarai jumped into the pit.
And only then did a figure in a dark green cloak with a hood pulled over its head drop from the tree canopy and head toward the hill, undoing a lightsaber hilt from its belt as it walked...