Nine years, eight months, and twenty-eight days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or forty-four years, eight months, and twenty-eight days after the Great Resynchronization.
(Four months and thirteen days since the Arrival.)
For the first time in a long while, the Interim Council of the New Republic had assembled in full.
One could even say in a somewhat expanded capacity, because during Leia's absence, Mon Mothma had added Admiral Drayson and General Crix Madine to the Council. The informal leader of the New Republic desperately needed allies while the princess was a prisoner. Allies not only military, but also political. And who could be more weighty figures than the director of intelligence and the commander of the New Republic's special forces?
A thought flashed through his memory that such a meeting had already taken place.
Right before Grand Admiral Thrawn began his crusade against the New Republic.
Han finished his report on the prisoner exchange and sat down. He understood perfectly that questions would start coming at him now—and not all of them would be pleasant.
He especially expected opposition from Drayson, who, although his jaw had healed, kept looking disapprovingly at the general. He'd even sat further from the table, remembering that the hook that had shattered his jaw had been delivered by the Corellian leaning across the tabletop. Well, Han wasn't proud of that action, but at least it had highlighted the problem.
Which, thank Mon Mothma, had been resolved very, very quickly. And now his wife wasn't stuck in some former POW camp, but sitting in her rightful place on the Interim Council.
"So," Admiral Drayson began, "the prisoner exchange, by your account, General Solo, went without a hitch."
"That's right," Han nodded. "Thrawn offered to transfer our troops on his ships, but we'd already anticipated that move, so we took enough transports to evacuate the prisoners ourselves."
"And at the same time, he tried to pressure all of you, demanding the transfer of Imperial military equipment," Admiral Ackbar said, not hiding his displeasure. He seemed especially irritated today.
"That's always been, and most likely will continue to be, Thrawn's constant demand," Han stated.
"His Dominion is expanding around the Ciutric Hegemony," Lando, sitting nearby, reminded them. "There is industry there..."
"As in the Morshdine and Oplovis sectors," Madine noted.
"But converting it to a war footing will require enormous financial and time expenditures," Lando finished his thought. "It's no wonder he wants to get what's already been produced and is available."
"That way he can not only equip his armed forces, but also continue full-scale offensives against the New Republic, while his logistics services build new factories," said Senator Bel Iblis, sitting to Han's right. And, to state the obvious, Solo was quite flattered that a living legend of Corellia, the illustrious senator, one of the leaders of the Alliance, was sitting right next to him...
No wonder that after the political crisis caused by Fey'lya's actions, Mon Mothma and Bel Iblis had decided to bury the vibro-ax of war that had flashed between them in the past and were acting jointly against a common enemy. Personal matters remain personal, but the collapse of what they both had fought for... No, such an outcome of personal enmity was of no use to anyone.
Han had no doubt that Bel Iblis's distrust of Mon Mothma hadn't dissipated—even considering the fact that after his return, he declared full support for the Chandrilan's course. This allowed her to restore her authority among the senators. And Bel Iblis received in exchange an appointment as commander of one of the operational task forces. The same kind that Han himself, Lando, Wedge... commanded. Fortunately, Ackbar had convinced Mothma to remove them from her direct subordination and return them to the strategic reserve of the New Republic Defense Forces. This further calmed the senators, who saw in the armed forces subordinate to Mothma a guard analogous to the one Palpatine had commanded in the last years of his tenure as Supreme Chancellor of the Old Republic.
The increased political pressure at the top of the New Republic's leadership was gradually dropping to a quite comfortable level.
"I agree," Admiral Ackbar nodded his large, browed head. "The plan is simple, but at the same time obvious."
"Which doesn't stop it from being effective," Drayson countered. "Numerous reports are already appearing on the HoloNet that the New Republic is doing nothing to free its prisoners. Insults aside, it's worth saying that protest sentiments are growing and multiplying every day."
"Does this pose any threat to us at the moment?" Leia clarified.
"Currently they are disorganized, characterized by spontaneous manifestations and emergence," Drayson reported. "However, it must be understood that the longer we ignore public demands, the longer such discontent will continue."
Han looked at Leia, who was sitting opposite him.
"In that case," Mon Mothma unexpectedly said, "what are your recommendations, Admiral?"
Drayson shook his head.
"Ma'am, the only way to silence such malcontents is to exchange the prisoners. We can lower the tension if we announce that we are at least working on this front..."
"But that won't solve the problem itself," Leia noted.
"And it can't be solved except by conducting an exchange," Madine supported Drayson.
"Or—if we don't conduct a forceful operation to free the prisoners," Bel Iblis declared.
"For that, we first need to find out exactly where our prisoners of war are located," Drayson noted. "So far, we can say with certainty that they are inside the Dominion, that they are not on Ciutric IV, and also that we don't know on which planets they are serving their labor sentences."
"To send a fleet into the Dominion would require either mobilizing one of the four we have to solve the problem radically," Ackbar stated.
"Or?" Mon Mothma clarified.
"Or accept their loss," the Mon Calamari grumbled.
"The latter option is not even being considered," Mon Mothma declared. "These are our military personnel; we are obliged to save them."
"And with a forceful solution, we risk losing another fleet," Ackbar stated. "I can guarantee that Thrawn didn't just mention that some of our people are going over to his side, and also shared information about exactly how he intends to use our people."
"Just as he freed from captivity exclusively those he captured at the beginning of his campaign," Bel Iblis supported.
"What are you trying to say, General?" Mon Mothma inquired.
"We are facing an adversary highly skilled in traps and provocations," the Corellian declared. "I don't know how, but he flawlessly calculates our actions..."
"He has a huge network of spies," Drayson reluctantly admitted. "Moreover—at the very highest level of the New Republic. Who exactly—we still can't find out."
"That doesn't change the fact itself," Bel Iblis stated. "Everything concerning our prisoners of war, even the information campaign on the network—all of it is aimed at making us decide on a forceful method of their liberation. And Admiral Ackbar said it absolutely correctly—it's a trap."
"Explain," Mon Mothma demanded, her face darkening.
"It's simple," the Corellian declared. "Note that the number of attacks on our convoys has decreased—but not by much. At the same time, the few survivor testimonies indicate that not always in major operations are Imperial ships the ones acting. In the past, it was exactly the opposite—Thrawn used only regular troops and the fleet against us. Now the situation has changed—privateers and corsairs are operating. The question arises—where is the fleet?"
Silence fell.
It was broken almost a minute later by Ackbar.
"He keeps his forces inside the Dominion," the Mon Calamari said confidently, looking at Bel Iblis.
"Just like at Ciutric IV," the latter nodded. "He threw us a bone, we grabbed it, came intending to crush him—and fell into a trap. Same with the prisoners—if we stick our nose into the Dominion, he'll crush us as quickly as he broke the defense in the Oplovis sector."
"Something incomprehensible clearly happened there," Drayson said. "We're still trying to understand how exactly he managed to break the defense in the Ketaris system..."
"And the prisoners could have told us about that," Lando noted. "Those who took part in that battle. But we didn't get them."
Suddenly Han understood.
"Thrawn is using some kind of superweapon besides that C'baoth," he said. "Luke said that the Grand Admiral only revealed the existence of a dark Jedi, and a clone at that, when he no longer needed him!"
"Or, more accurately, when he became dangerous," Leia clarified. "So Thrawn got rid of him through the hands of those who might not have suffered from the Jedi's actions."
"He used other Jedi," Mon Mothma's face darkened. "That's alarming."
"Honestly, that prospect scares me," Madine admitted. "Where he had one Jedi, there could be another. And another dozen. And we have only one Skywalker."
"And Horn," Leia reminded.
Han smirked.
His wife diplomatically decided not to mention herself, but at the same time, everyone present knew about her Jedi inclinations. Once again, the initiative to recreate the Jedi Order came up.
"What scares me more is that clones have once again appeared in the galaxy," Mon Mothma admitted. "What if Thrawn has a way to clone sentients?"
"Unlikely," Lando stated. "Ever since the possibility of reaching Kamino disappeared, there are practically no clones in the galaxy. The most he can do is bring back Jango Fett's clones."
"And they're pushing sixty now—not the most agile fighters," Madine supported.
"But at the same time, they could become instructors for recruits," Bel Iblis noted. "That's exactly how the Empire formed the Stormtrooper Corps when it stopped receiving clones."
"The problem is that we can't prevent it," Drayson stated. "There are no more Jango Fett clones among our agents and military personnel, so we can't infiltrate our people into the Dominion under that cover story."
"We need to check everything again," Mon Mothma ruled. "Maybe we missed one or two soldiers somewhere in the records. That would be enough to get intelligence inside the enemy's units. As far as I remember," she looked at the director of Republic intelligence, "your plan to infiltrate scouts disguised as volunteers also failed."
"At least none of them have made contact," Drayson sighed.
"This is a dead end," Lando said. "Thrawn does whatever he wants, and we just sit and watch him expand his Dominion, or else keep our ships on defense like a Hutt hoarding auroridium."
"We were not prepared for the war Thrawn has unleashed on us," admitted Admiral Ackbar. "We analyze, try to identify potential targets..."
"But that did not save us from the destruction of the bacta convoy destined for the First Fleet," Mon Mothma declared sharply. The Mon Calamari looked at her, blinking his large eyes several times.
"And what exactly is the matter?" Bel Iblis inquired.
"We began stockpiling strategic resources," Drayson explained. "Thyferra prepared a bacta caravan for us, which we intended to use to supply our forces in the Core Worlds."
"The convoy stopped responding to messages," Madine continued. "It didn't show up at communication checkpoints. During the investigation, our scout fighters discovered the wreckage of the escort ships. The cargo ships vanished. That's almost fifty tankers of bacta."
"Losses amount to twelve MC80 star cruisers and thirty escort frigates of the first and second modifications," Ackbar finished. "The report came in a couple of hours ago."
"And we don't know where the bacta went?" Leia clarified.
"We have no idea," the Mon Calamari agreed.
"No need to guess," Bel Iblis sighed. "By now it's certainly somewhere in Dominion space."
"Blast it," Han burst out. "Why haven't we struck Chasin, Trogan, and other planets that have only nominal defenses? They're far enough from Dominion territory, no escort fleets, and..."
"Because they're already de facto fortress planets like Makem Te," Madine explained, "or on their way to becoming one. Chasin itself is currently installing anti-spacecraft defenses. Same on Trogan, Kelada, Columex..."
"Minimal investment in defense, but storming these planets would only cost our fleet losses," Ackbar admitted. "Situation similar to Brintooin, home of the Crimson Hammers."
"Except they have planetary shields, while the outlying Dominion planets don't," Bel Iblis recalled.
"In any case," Ackbar cut in. "If we attack any planet, we'll expose a flank elsewhere. And Thrawn will strike exactly there, taking another system or an entire sector. Until we understand how he crushed the defenses of the Hast and Oplovis shipyards, any offensive into Dominion territory must be massive in scale, or else we'll share the fate of a tide washing over a scorching beach on a sunny day."
"And if we never find out, then what, we'll just sit and do nothing?" Calrissian asked.
Han could tell from his voice that his friend was seriously furious.
"We're already beginning operations to hunt Dominion raiders," Ackbar countered. "We need at least small victories."
"Which will let us reduce Thrawn's fleet and lower public tensions," Admiral Drayson said.
"We have many unresolved tasks," Mon Mothma reminded. "Increasing the number of transports using disarmed Imperial ships allows us to rebuild the economy. We've already made significant progress in financing the completion of our starships. By the start of next year, we'll be able to cover all our ship losses at once — and with the addition of capital ships."
"Fine, but what about the possible dark Jedi in Thrawn's service?" Leia asked. "Not to mention the dark Jedi Luke encountered on Polis Massa."
And that was a hint at Palpatine's involvement.
Interesting, how will the Council react…
"At the moment, nothing suggests that the Polis Massa incident could not be a provocation by Thrawn himself to draw our forces away from his chosen targets," Mon Mothma stated. Han only sighed bitterly. Lando snorted indignantly. Bel Iblis was more restrained.
And constructive.
"Suppose the stories of Palpatine's return are not a deception by Thrawn, who is famous for his inventive methods of manipulating his enemy," he said. "But at the same time, that doesn't remove the most fundamental question — the dark Jedi. Or, as Thrawn called them — the Dark Side Elite. Is their existence also questioned by the Provisional Council?"
There was a moment of silence. Yes, interesting how the Council would react to obvious facts. After all, the words about dark Jedi on the asteroid came directly from Luke. And not believing the only Jedi in their service... well, that was at least foolish.
"At the moment, the Council acknowledges the danger they pose," Mon Mothma said slowly. "I've already spoken with Jedi Skywalker and asked him to begin searching for potential students. Or Jedi who, like Obi-Wan Kenobi or Rahm Kota, survived Order 66."
"Galen Marek or Kyle Katarn would be a great help," Leia remarked.
"Unfortunately, the first vanished from our scanners nearly ten years ago, and the second was sent on a search by the late General Cracken," Mon Mothma sighed. "We are making every effort to find surviving Jedi or their descendants..."
"An advertisement on the HoloNet is not the best way to find a Jedi," Lando noted.
Han barely held back from snorting with laughter.
Yes, the New Republic had indeed posted information on the galactic information network about a call for Jedi to return to the service of Coruscant. The friends had learned about it that morning. Need it be said that so far there had been no responses?
"We fully understand that Jedi have been hiding in the farthest corners of the galaxy, and there is unlikely to be a stable connection," Mon Mothma sighed. "The process of finding them is not quick, but we cannot devote enough attention to it now. We are at war, and the Jedi, as is known, are advocates of peace. So they may simply see no point in coming out of the shadows now..."
Sounds ridiculous.
The Jedi had always championed democracy. And now they chose to abstain when the bastion of democracy in the galaxy might fall apart?
Han heard the entrance door close behind him, cutting off the hall where the Provisional Council meeting was taking place from the rest of the Imperial Palace. He was about to turn around when Admiral Drayson addressed him.
"General, you interacted with Grand Admiral Thrawn more than anyone. Did he ever say anything to you about intending to acquire an Executor-class Star Destroyer?"
"Besides the Lusankya or the Reaper?" Han clarified. "No, he never even mentioned a word."
"Thrawn probably doesn't make a habit of broadcasting his intentions to the enemy, unless it involves using the enemy himself," Senator Bel Iblis said.
At that moment, Lando, who had turned at the sound of the opening door, lightly elbowed Han in the side to get his attention.
The Corellian, seeing his wife's eyes widen, turned his head...
"Or perhaps it's a matter of lack of trust," Councilor Fey'lya said in a bass voice, walking around the seated trio and settling into an empty chair at the table, next to the other councilors. "Is that possible, General Solo?"
Han swore before he could catch himself.
Jumping up, the Corellian pointed a finger at the Bothan:
"What the Hutt is this swindler and traitor doing here?" he forced himself to look at Borsk Fey'lya.
Sitting opposite him, Ackbar, Mon Mothma, Drayson, and Madine all synchronously looked down. Only Leia continued to show her true feelings about the former commander-in-chief on her face.
"Watch your words, General Solo," the Bothan's violet eyes widened; his light mane bristled slightly, confirming his irritation. "Do you want to receive disciplinary action for insulting a member of the Provisional Council?"
"Councilor Mothma, what is going on?" Bel Iblis rose. "Fey'lya is a traitor who cost us an entire fleet, branded us as aggressors across the galaxy, not to mention that because of his actions we lost a fast dreadnaught, the entire First Division, and..."
"I understand your feelings, General," Mothma said coldly, meeting the Corellian's eyes. "The feelings of all of you..."
"I doubt that," Calrissian blurted.
"Councillor, what is happening?" Leia demanded.
"Councillor Fey'lya escaped from Grand Admiral Thrawn's captivity," Admiral Drayson explained, seeing that the Chandrilan woman was not particularly eager to answer the question asked of her. Well, of course!
"Is that so?" Bel Iblis raged. "And what will that cost us?"
"An ultimate victory over Thrawn," the Bothan declared.
"I've heard that somewhere before," Han snorted.
"I ask everyone to be calmer," Mon Mothma requested.
"An impossible task," Han cut in, continuing to point accusingly at the Bothan. "So our exchange required losing dozens of ships, while Fey'lya slips out of captivity without even getting his fur wet?"
"It's not that simple," Admiral Ackbar's normally orange-pink skin took on a darker tone. "Generals, please sit down..."
Han practically collapsed into his chair. Bel Iblis did so much more slowly.
Judging by the fury in his gaze, he was ready to burn a hole through the unruffled Bothan. Only he didn't have the means to do so.
"Something needs to be clarified," Mon Mothma said slowly.
"Don't bother," Lando demonstratively removed the command bar from his tunic and threw it on the table in front of the Provisional Council members. "First, you let him remove Ackbar from the post of commander-in-chief on a charge that's worth nothing, then you placed the armed forces under his control, and despite enormous losses among our military and materiel, you decided to bring him back to the Council? Even though he was in Thrawn's captivity?"
"Almost everyone present here was there," Admiral Drayson stated. "But that's no reason..."
"It is a reason," Han said firmly, intending to repeat Lando's gesture. But he caught his wife's warning gesture in time. It seemed Leia was beginning to understand something. "Yes, none of us are perfect, but he," the Corellian pointed at the unflappable Fey'lya, "he lost the core of the battle fleet! He just led them into a trap!"
"As you did at Honoghr, General Solo," the Bothan said, examining his claws. "As Admiral Drayson rightly noted — we all have our sins. Some lost a fleet, some were outwitted and captured, some have children with Dominion citizenship..."
"What did you say?" Han jumped up from his seat again, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Leia was shooting him warning looks. "My children did not choose their fate! They were taken captive..."
"Because your wife trusted Talon Karrde," Fey'lya shrugged, clearly trying to hide that the fur on his neck was standing on end again. "I trusted the data from Bothan intelligence. Misfortune accompanies each of us. So, if you have complaints that I, having heroically escaped captivity and with valuable intelligence information, returned to my post instead of rotting in filtration camps, then you should first look at your own friends and wife. They are also where they were before captivity. Or would you have preferred to send them where procedure dictates?"
Han clenched his fists, taking a step toward the Bothan.
"Move away from the table, Councilor," Fey'lya advised Drayson.
"Stop this," Mon Mothma demanded, striking her gavel. Missing the rest, she slammed it onto the tabletop. "This is a meeting of the Provisional Council, not a market on Showm-High on a market day."
"I don't see any difference," Lando said, rising and heading toward the exit. "I'll send my resignation report to Admiral Ackbar's office by mail. With that, I ask you not to call on me in times of need anymore." Stopping by the doors, he looked at the councilors. "I lost everything in the service of the New Republic. Graciously forgive me, but you won't make me eat slop with a full spoon."
He left, slamming the door loudly.
Han made another attempt to rip his own bar from his chest and follow his friend, but this time Bel Iblis's whisper stopped him:
"Don't even think about it," he said warningly. "That's exactly what Fey'lya wants — to remove you from the military. Tomorrow, his supporters will be in your positions in the task forces, and everything will start over."
Grinding his teeth, Han, meeting Leia's pleading eyes, left the insignia alone. And with undisguised malice, he looked at the unflappable Fey'lya.
"And it's nothing new for me to wallow in various cra..."
A quiet, barely audible strike of the gavel interrupted the brewing conflict among those present.
"I demand order," Mon Mothma said melancholically, as if to herself. "We have all become victims of the Grand Admiral to one degree or another. We cannot afford to split our alliance now — that is exactly what our enemy is waiting for. Our division — that is his true plan."
"It is easier to crush a mollusk's shell that has been broken into pieces than a whole one," the Mon Calamari noted. But from the expression on his face, it was clear that he was also not thrilled with everything happening.
It was time for Han to glance at Leia. The princess twisted her lips in response but nodded and remained silent. Yes, the candy also showed little enthusiasm, but she accepted the rules of the political game.
Mon Mothma drew out a pause, her gaze sweeping over those assembled.
She looked at everyone and stopped her gaze on Han.
"General Solo, we thank you for your report and for everything you have done for us," Mon Mothma said quietly. "It is time to discuss the information that Councilor Fey'lya has provided us. Councilor," she looked at the Bothan, puffed up with his own importance, "please inform those present of what you reported to the Council immediately after your return..."
* * *
Bre'ano Umakk.
What are you? Who are you? What drives you?
Questions that had been raised before, but the answer could be found... only from the Jedi himself.
Who was now sitting before me.
I should have spoken with him earlier — practically right after he came aboard the Chimaera. But I have more important things to do than listen to more than one Jedi per day.
"So I take it you too have decided to join the Dominion?" I clarified.
"Such is the will of the Force," the Jedi Master said, blinking his enormous eyes.
Interesting.
"And what exactly did the Force command you?" I inquired.
"The Force never gives clear answers," who would doubt that. "It only gives hints, clues, each of which must be interpreted by oneself. I understood its signal and decided to help."
"In what specifically?" I asked.
The Jedi sat silently for a few seconds, then said:
"There, on Dantooine, I fought against your Inquisitors," he said. "I guarded that place, taught many — for long decades. I taught them protection — those who could comprehend the mystery of the Force..."
So somewhere in the galaxy there are those he taught. Interesting.
Noted.
"Many view the Force as a weapon," the Jedi continued his sermon.
"But not you?" I clarified.
"The Force is what binds all living things," the Jedi explained patiently. "Our Order served as keepers of the peace, protectors, not aggressors. The Force cannot be used for evil deeds. One cannot attack, destroy, conquer worlds with it — that is the path of the Dark Side."
"As I recall, the Jedi became generals in the Grand Army of the Republic," I said. "And the campaigns under their command were far from defensive."
"Depends on the point of view," the Jedi remarked. "We defended sentient beings, defended the Republic to which we swore loyalty. Defended the Senate and democracy. And we were exterminated."
"By the decision of those you protected. An interesting turn of phrase. Even without the Force, this being... seems more mature to me than Ahsoka Tano. Is it a matter of age, or the fact that before me is not a half-trained apprentice or a self-taught Jedi, but a Master who trained according to the Order's canon and, already in his mature years, assessed what was happening in the galaxy beyond Coruscant and the Senate's sweet speeches?"
"I have no hatred or grievances against them," Bre'ano Umakk declared. "They were fooled. We were all fooled by the Sith Lords. Why cling to the past if there is only death there? Life is the future."
"And what future do you see for yourself? And what exactly did you perceive as the will of the Force?" I inquired.
"What I have been doing all these years," the Mon Calamari said. "Teach. Protect. Guide. Mentor."
Right, it seems a logical link is missing somewhere.
"Explain in more detail," I asked. "What do your words mean in translation from Jedi to Basic?"
"I hid from Inquisitors and Sith for thirty years," the Jedi said, grunting. "Many times I could have intervened in the civil war that raged across the galaxy. I could have joined the Empire and helped it establish order throughout the galaxy. Or I could have sided with the Rebel Alliance and helped them restore democracy."
"But you stayed out of it."
"I did not and do not see in any of them the slightest desire to establish order," the Jedi confessed. "Some fight out of greed and ambition. Others under false slogans. But in the end, only one thing remains — a war of interests, philosophies. And in that war, innocent sentient beings die. I decided to protect them — even if I didn't have many students, I did what I could. I created defenders for those who cannot take care of themselves."
"My allies are the Jensaarai," I admitted.
"A familiar teaching," the Mon Calamari nodded. "I thought they had all perished."
"Some survived, despite the efforts of Jedi and Sith. Their teaching contains elements that the Sith once instilled, as well as Jedi philosophy."
"Not surprising," Bre'ano Umakk agreed. "Over millennia of the orders' existence, teachings intertwined and borrowed from each other. In the end, those who do not evolve — perish."
Why do I feel like I'm at a psychotherapist's appointment?
And I also noticed that we'd strayed from the original question again.
Which I didn't fail to point out.
"I guarded the caves for those who would use them for good," the Mon Calamari stated. "When I followed your people, I sensed only the Dark Side of the Force in them. The boy, Fodeum, is not as fallen as his mentor."
"You wanted to kill them," I recalled.
"We all have our sins," the Jedi said. "You also kill those who hinder you from fulfilling your duty. My duty was to preserve the heritage and protect it from the Dark Side."
"And what changed your mind?"
"Not what," Bre'ano Umakk countered. "Who."
"Fodeum Sabre De'Luz," I determined.
"As I already said — the boy has not fallen to the Dark Side," the Jedi said. "But he will inevitably do so if he is taught by an Inquisitor. Who himself knows very little. A tangle of hatred and rage. Rashness and exorbitant ambition will be the cause of his death."
No, that's it, I don't want to talk to Jedi anymore. This is all... too refined, too pompous, too spiritual. I asked simple questions! Why can't they be answered just as directly?
"A stone hit to the head sometimes kills, and sometimes helps broaden the field of vision," the Jedi said, apropos of nothing. "I saw that I could save them both from an inevitable terrible end."
Okay, that sounds like the truth.
"In what way?" I inquired.
"The boy has potential," Bre'ano Umakk said. "He is strong in the Force, but he fears it. His pain gives him strength, makes him powerful. And it will also go to his head, push him to rash actions that will nurture his pride. He is closed off to everyone, and that makes him lonely. Loneliness is pain when you haven't subdued your inner demons. He considers this a weakness, and that belief weakens him. In the end, he will betray everyone because he doesn't feel unity with anyone. He does not see himself as part of something greater. And therefore it is dangerous to leave him alone. He nourishes his pain, using it to make himself strong — but it destroys his humanity. His end will be sad — history knows many such examples."
You don't have to look far for examples. Every second fallen Jedi, not counting the first, started that way.
"And Obscuro?" I inquired.
"That's exactly who we're talking about," the Jedi said. "Fodeum simply doesn't know what he's capable of, because there's no one to properly train him. That's why he fears the Force. I showed him another path — the path of self-contemplation, unity, and harmony. If he doesn't stray from it, he will be a worthy protector for sentient beings."
Alright... Let's assume. So, we have an Inquisitor with an unfinished gestalt, who cherishes his childhood trauma as a source of power.
What nonsense...
"Fodeum did not receive a proper education because the Jedi killed all the Jensaarai masters," I explained.
"That is sad," Bre'ano Umakk agreed. "I will teach him."
"There are other Jensaarai who also need a mentor."
"I will teach them too," the Mon Calamari said unexpectedly. "But defense, not offense."
So... What does that even mean?
That's what I asked.
"The Force loves harmony and balance," again these musings. What is this? "But they are achieved only when there is no pain or suffering."
"Such a thing is impossible in such a vast galaxy," I stated.
"But one should strive for it," the Jedi countered. "Lawlessness must be suppressed. Oppression must be punished. Murder must be condemned. That is the purpose of protecting sentient beings."
"And how many Jedi died while attempting to apprehend a criminal?" I inquired.
"But why apprehend them?" Bre'ano Umakk wondered. "You see lawlessness — restore the law. You see a murderer — punish."
"But do it with peace in your soul?" I clarified, recalling a bearded joke from my past.
"Exactly," the Mon Calamari confirmed.
"Is he a drug addict or something?" the thought flashed.
"In other words, Jedi have the right to wage war, to kill — and that's okay if the Jedi does it for a higher purpose?" I clarified.
"It sounds funny," the Mon Calamari agreed. Well, thank goodness, I thought only I noticed. "But that's exactly it. Peace for a Jedi is harmony with the Force. Where other sentient beings, not sensitive to the Force, rely on logic, laws, rules, and evidence, a Jedi can get answers based on the Force."
"Well, how is that different from the teachings of the Sith?" I asked.
"A Jedi must never do anything solely for himself," the Mon Calamari declared. "He serves those who are in need. The Sith are driven by greed and selfishness. They commit any evil exclusively for their own interests. Or the interests of those they serve."
"The Jensaarai serve the Dominion," I reminded him. "Following your logic, that would make them Sith."
The Jedi didn't answer.
He blinked once, blinked twice, and then...
He laughed.
Loudly, deeply, genuinely...
For a full minute, his thunderous laughter echoed through my quarters.
When he had finished laughing, he wiped tears from his eyes with the edge of his cloak and then looked at me... with amusement in his eyes.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're a rather interesting being?" he asked.
"A few times," I confirmed. An interesting reaction to a perfectly logical conclusion. What was the catch?
"Well, well," the Jedi said, clearing his throat. "It's been a long time since I've laughed like that... Forgive me if I offended your feelings, but I wanted to understand who I was dealing with. I admit — I doubted that you were a real Chiss."
Was this some kind of universal joke? First, no one even guessed what race Thrawn belonged to, and now, within a month, I've found a second 'perceptive' one.
"Are you sure testing me was a good idea?" I asked.
"Luck doesn't exist," the Mon Calamari noted. "There's only a convergence of circumstances and a person's reaction to them. But that's all philosophy. Those members of your species that I encountered in the Order didn't particularly care for it."
Chiss Jedi?
Oh, so much more I had yet to learn about this galaxy.
"Let's return to my questions," I insisted.
"And to my answers," the Mon Calamari agreed. "When I said I intended to kill your subordinates in the caves — I wasn't lying. I was guarding that place so it wouldn't be defiled by servants of the Dark Side. It was my duty. Regarding my vision of the conflict — I wasn't lying. I'm not interested in helping those who only think of themselves. I am a Jedi, and our purpose is to protect beings. Your Jensaarai, Fodeum, could have killed me to save his teacher — a Sith or a Dark Side acolyte would have done that. But he knocked out both me and the Inquisitor."
"He didn't want either of you to die."
"Exactly," the Mon Calamari smiled. "We talked for a long time after I came to. I admit I was wrong — you really are doing for ordinary people what the Empire promised. And what the Republic talked about. I won't say I agree with everything, but those are echoes of my Jedi past. When you're told your whole life that goals can only be achieved through negotiation — you eventually start to believe it."
"And now you have a different point of view?" I clarified.
"War changes people," he declared. "And opens your eyes. I've come to understand that protecting beings is, indeed, the right thing. But necessary evil also exists. The Order understood this — that's why we fight with lightsabers instead of being snipers. When you decide to take a life — look into your victim's eyes. If you are weak in spirit — you will die yourself. If strong — you'll see it through."
Alright, suppose I accept that.
"What made you agree to come to the Chimera?" I asked. "You weren't being held in the camp by force — you could have stayed if you wanted to."
"That's why I came," the Jedi declared. "Fodeum told me about the Jensaarai. And that Reynar is the only one who can teach them something beyond what they already know. But what I told you about the Inquisitor — that's the complete truth. He was traumatized as a child, so he seeks oblivion in the suffering of others. That's dangerous — primarily for those around him."
"I'll keep that in mind," I said.
"I've already taken certain steps in that direction," the Jedi admitted. "We just need to keep bringing the Twi'lek and the Inquisitor together. They'll open up to each other, and the tension will ease."
"You want to turn the Inquisitor to the Light Side?" I clarified.
"Why?" the Jedi asked. "I've fought him — he's powerful in the Dark Side. It's a stain that can't be washed away. Personally, I have no prejudice against how the Force is used. The Dark Side, the Light Side... what difference does it make, as long as they are used for good?"
Alright, jaw, don't drop, don't you dare...
"In other words, you joined in order to..." I trailed off, inviting the Mon Calamari to state the fact himself.
"To teach," he said firmly. "Jedi, Sith — two sides of the same coin. And I'm not even sure the Force has a division into sides. And if it does, why only two, and not five? Either way, the greatest danger to the galaxy comes from those who act out of ignorance — the half-trained, the uncomprehending... and those with an overdeveloped sense of self-importance. Fragmented understanding, falsely perceived goals of one's existence — that's the root cause of all the Great Jedi Purges."
Well... I seem to recall there being about a hundred more causes, but fine, I'm no Jedi to argue about subtle matters.
"I have seen the future," Bre'ano Umakk admitted. "And it's grim — if there are no trained and properly prepared Jedi. Our knowledge is lost, but if those who are sensitive to the Force learn from fragmented materials, it will do far more harm than good. Knowledge and teaching must be comprehensive, complete. What can a master who hasn't seen the world or life teach his padawan? To be just as narrow-minded as himself. And with each generation, this problem will worsen. Eventually, because of the Jedi's misunderstanding, the Sith will emerge. As has happened before."
"I once read an interesting account of the fall of a Jedi named Exar Kun," I cast the line. Maybe I'd get lucky?
"Yes, there was such a one," Bre'ano Umakk agreed. "An example of what I was talking about. The master didn't explain the purpose of the trials of patience; the student rebelled and decided his power was being limited. A new Sith Lord emerged."
"And the same will happen with the Jensaarai if they aren't trained by you?" I continued probing.
"They could emerge," the Jedi stated. "It doesn't have to be me as the teacher. If you scrape the outer rims of the galaxy, you'll find a dozen or two more Jedi with a similar philosophy. Too much evil has come from a teacher not explaining the consequences to his student. Too much is placed on the padawans themselves. Without explanations, without specifics... They grew up like weeds — whatever came out, came out."
"An interesting theory," I noted. "How long have you been working on it?"
"About thirty years," the Jedi chuckled. "But I still believe that a Jedi of the new generation should not withdraw from solving the problems of the state. On the contrary — he must actively participate in resolving them. But with discernment — not everyone can be a diplomat, soldier, or pilot. Someone, for example, will grow food and thereby solve problems of hunger. Someone will heal... Everyone should be where they can achieve the best results."
"You can't achieve that by snapping your fingers," I noted.
"Naturally," Bre'ano Umakk agreed. "It takes months, possibly years of training. Theory, practice, theory again... Only gizka are born fast. However, on the other hand, the Jensaarai doctrine of protecting beings — I rather like it. Self-sacrifice, service, and protection of beings — as it needs to be done. It's the right philosophy. I've been doing the same for thirty years. Besides, as I understand it — they've almost all passed childhood. Such ones are easier to teach — you only need to show them what they don't know. Why break a philosophy that works for the good?"
"Are you sure you're a Jedi?" I clarified.
"Yes," the Mon Calamari scratched his chin. "But for such talk in the old Order, I'd probably have been put down. You know, we had them — the Jedi Shadows. They hunted renegades..."
"Eliminated threats?" I clarified.
"Who the Hutt knows what they did there," the Mon Calamari replied simply, finally making it clear that he was as simple as two credits. And the whole start of our conversation was just an act. "It was like they never existed at all. But someone had to be hunting the Sith, destroying their knowledge?"
"That requires specialized professionals," I noted.
"Yes," the Mon Calamari agreed. "Regular Jedi with that... rarely coped, as far as I know."
"Let's return to our reality," I suggested. "Let's assume the Jensaarai Order is the right philosophy for the Dominion and the protection of its citizens. But what do we do with those who will oppose it, who will try to destroy our Order, as the Jedi and Sith did in the past?"
"Try to negotiate," the Mon Calamari said honestly. "And if they don't understand — destroy them. But for that, again, you need specialized personnel."
"Like Inquisitor Reynar?" I suggested.
"The Inquisitor..." Bre'ano Umakk winced. "It sounds, honestly, very Imperial. If I heard that somewhere in the Dominion there was an Inquisitorius, I'd definitely think you were restoring Palpatine's Empire."
"But the essence doesn't change from that," I noted.
"Hardly," the former Jedi admitted. "But the name definitely needs to be changed. And then let them travel through the galaxy, confiscate harmful knowledge, seek out new things, eliminate those Jedi and Sith who wish harm upon the galaxy and the Dominion..."
"Change the name," I said. "A good idea. But we could also use one that practically no one knows."
"We could," Bre'ano Umakk shrugged. "You know better, I'm just an advisor and a teacher."
"Then advise," I suggested. "Is it worth creating a Shadow Guard within the Jensaarai Order, which would take on the duties of the Jedi Shadows and the Inquisitorius?"
The Jedi thought for a moment. Then he nodded affirmatively.
"It's worth it. And yes, I like the name."
"It'll do for now," I said. Glancing at the chronometer, I noted there were only a few hours left until the end of the flight. "We still have time for conversation. I'd like to hear about the Jedi from my species. Especially what became of them."
The Mon Calamari's face darkened, taking on a richer shade.
"The conversation will be difficult," he said. "And long."
"I'm in no hurry. Neither are you."
* * *
"It's some kind of surreal," Han said quietly, after the Bothan finished his story about the agreements between him and Isard.
"Another trap," Bel Iblis stated firmly. "Ysanne Isard is working together with Thrawn."
"I agree," Admiral Ackbar said reluctantly. "They want to force us to commit our ships to a point where there will be an ambush. It's one of the Grand Admiral's common tactics."
"But there is a rational kernel in this proposal," Drayson stated. "We know Isard cooperated with Krennel for some purpose. Now we understand she wanted to create her own Empire. Krennel failed, and she found herself another puppet — Thrawn."
"I doubt he can be manipulated," Leia said.
"I'm more inclined to believe she's working on his orders," Madine supported. "Isard doesn't have any serious power in the Dominion..."
"As far as we know," Fey'lya said leisurely. "But her agent network..."
"Let's not get into agent networks, shall we?" Han asked. "We've already lost Rogue Squadron thanks to someone's intelligence data."
"That information hasn't been proven," Drayson objected. "As with Horn's case, it could be..."
"The question right now isn't about that!" There was steel in Mon Mothma's voice. "We have an opportunity to rid ourselves of Grand Admiral Thrawn once and for all!"
"And that 'Executor' he intends to get," Ackbar stated.
"Are we talking about the Lusankya?" Han asked.
"No," the Mon Calamari said firmly. "We're keeping its location a secret."
"For Isard, according to Councilor Fey'lya," Bel Iblis stated, "that's not much of a secret. Nor are its supply problems."
"What concerns me more is the data on where the spare parts for that type of ship are going," Madine stated.
"Thrawn's purchases, no doubt," Drayson assumed. "But for which ship..."
"There are only two options," Ackbar stated. "Either it concerns the Lusankya, or Thrawn got Kaine to transfer the Reaper to him."
"And the spare parts purchases are an indirect indicator that the Super Star Destroyer is being prepared for an active campaign?" Bel Iblis clarified.
The Mon Calamari thought for a moment, then nodded.
"This coincides with the story about Thrawn's promise to visit Coruscant," Leia suddenly said.
"That's unthinkable," Mon Mothma breathed. "There's the entire First Fleet there..."
"Which has been deprived of bacta," Madine's face grew long.
"And that means there will be huge losses among the wounded," Drayson chimed in.
Han blinked.
"Excuse me, are you serious right now?" he clarified. "You want to believe that Isard, for the safety of her own skin and three billion credits, is ready to sell out the location of someone who could crush the New Republic? Am I the only one who thinks this is collective insanity?"
Mon Mothma tapped her gavel again, drawing attention to herself.
"Don't cross the line, General Solo," she said firmly. "Cooperating with Isard is a way to get rid of Thrawn."
"Or to fall into one of his traps," Bel Iblis noted.
"The pros of this operation outweigh the potential risk," Ackbar stated. "We can get rid of Thrawn and at the same time — capture the Reaper. Such actions are worth the risk."
"And what about the Lusankya?" Bel Iblis asked. "What if the conversation is about her?"
"Impossible," Admiral Ackbar said firmly. "At this point, she has been moved to the Rendili shipyards, where her refitting is underway."
"But Rendili supported the Empire until recently," Leia objected.
"As did most sectors of the galaxy," Mon Mothma stated. "But a significant part of them are now part of the New Republic. Or, should I order that they not be trusted either?"
"No, but..." the princess hesitated, realizing her argument hadn't been heard.
"The Rendilians agreed to carry out the restoration of the Lusankya at significantly lower costs than Kuat or Fondor," Admiral Ackbar explained.
"You can thank me for having pushed through the possibility of that planet joining the New Republic in my time," Fey'lya said smugly. "However, if the Provisional Council is categorically against the proposal to cooperate with Isard, then I will turn to my kin and..."
An unambiguous threat.
If it worked, the Bothans' authority would skyrocket to such heights that the other councilors wouldn't have a shred of a chance to influence New Republic policy in the future.
What Fey'lya failed to achieve before his disgrace in the Ciutric Hegemony, he would get by destroying Thrawn.
If it wasn't a trap, of course...
"The Provisional Council gives you the go-ahead and the means to conclude the deal with Isard," Mon Mothma said, striking her gavel ceremonially. This time — on the stand. "The meeting is adjourned."
When the Chandrilan rose, it was a signal for those present that they could clear out.
To leave a place where logic tore as easily as flimsi.
Han gathered his documents and walked over to his wife, who had slipped out from behind the table and was almost skipping toward the door.
"In a hurry?" he asked.
"Let's get out of here," Leia replied. "I can't stand even being in the same room with him."
Who she was talking about wasn't even worth asking — Fey'lya was sprawled royally in his chair, slowly collecting his data chips.
As soon as they were in the vestibule, Han saw Lando standing pensively by the exit. He was staring somewhat absently at the iridescent fire of the ch'ala trees. Pretty, but nothing more.
They were heading toward the family friend when Solo heard Mon Mothma's voice:
"Leia, could you spare me a few minutes?"
Han felt his wife reluctantly slow down. It seemed they'd already been through this.
"How can I help?" she asked the councilor. And Han could see the strained, polite smile on his wife's face.
The Chandrilan noticed it too.
"You must forgive me for not telling you about Fey'lya's arrival immediately," Mon Mothma said. "We were just as shocked as you are now... But you must understand that if we allowed you to return to your duties without any filtering, we couldn't refuse Fey'lya that either..."
Leia nodded.
"Yes," she cast a pained look at her husband. "I understand everything."
"Oh, really?" the Corellian asked politely. "Well, I, for example, don't quite understand. Did Leia cause the lion's share of our line ships, including the fast dreadnought, to become part of the Dominion fleet? Maybe you here on Coruscant haven't noticed, but because of these actions, sectors have broken away from the Republic, and on the outer rims, they don't speak to our military any way other than through gritted teeth. We've been made out to be the aggressors, and now we have to apologize because someone wanted a little power!"
"Han," Mon Mothma said peaceably, "I understand everything..."
"Well, I, for example, don't quite understand," Solo repeated after the Chandrilan. "A few forgeries were enough to send Ackbar to prison! And they didn't even put Fey'lya under house arrest!"
Attracted by his loud voice, Lando finally thawed out. But the old friend didn't hurry over.
"The Bothans are important to us," Mon Mothma said before Leia could open her mouth. "Because of their blunder, they lost several positions into which we were able to place the right people who advocate for greatness and stability. Furthermore, they help us significantly financially, which is no small matter given our economic crisis..."
"Yes, I seem to recall hearing something like that," Han snorted. "And since there are spare credits, why not give them to Isard, right?"
"Han," his wife tugged at his sleeve.
"Why not, indeed?" Solo continued to get worked up. "Let's pay the Iceheart for supposedly helping us get rid of her ally. Let's allow her to seize power over Thrawn's armed forces — someone with whom you could at least hold a dialogue, not to mention that the guy isn't a typical Imperial. Look, he poured a ton of credits into the medical care for my wife and kids, repaired my ship, didn't even ask for money."
"Han!" his wife repeated her gesture.
"Let's just keep on like this, why not?" the Corellian asked. "When Lando's Nomad needed saving, no one even batted an eye. And all he did was supply our ships with necessary metal."
"We tried to revive the Nomad project," Mon Mothma noted peaceably. "But three skyscrapers we were repairing at the Allantin IV shipyards simply vanished..."
"What a surprise," Han snorted.
"You wanted to revive my business?" Calrissian appeared beside them.
"Yes," Mon Mothma admitted. And, from all appearances, she clearly wasn't eager to tell the whole story. "We needed metals, and Nkllon wasn't under the Empire's scrutiny, so..."
"You decided, why not use my team's developments to grab a fat prize for yourselves," Lando nodded. Pausing for a moment, he looked into the red-haired woman's eyes. "You know what? I don't regret retiring..."
"I'm glad to hear it," the Chandrilan said with a stone face.
"I regret coming back at all," Lando declared. "Good luck to you."
Spinning on his heels, the man strode away.
"You just spat in his soul," Han explained.
"I'm sorry it turned out that way," Solo didn't believe that. He had generally decided, for a change, not to trust the government's words. "But I wanted to talk about something else."
"Like what?" Han asked in an extremely unfriendly tone.
Leia, no longer shy, stepped on his foot.
"We have major misunderstandings with Lady Santhe from Lianna," Mon Mothma stated. "I would like you, Leia, to go there and conduct negotiations with her."
"Why?" the princess was surprised. "We can't prove that it isn't our ships conducting raids against her transports."
"That's precisely why I asked Admiral Ackbar to assign General Solo's task force to locate and destroy these raiders," Mon Mothma said. "We believe Thrawn is using captured Mon Calamari cruisers to create the impression that we are the ones acting."
"That sounds like something he'd do," Han agreed.
"That's why I want Leia to negotiate with Santhe regarding you, General, accompanying her convoys," Mon Mothma continued. "Secretly, just as Ackbar accompanies our convoys."
"Snuff them out at the right moment," Solo nodded. "Well, the idea itself is sound, it's just... You don't think there are spies on Lianna who will quickly figure out that a princess arriving on a warship is clearly not alone?"
"That's why I would like you, General, to deliver her in your own starship," Mom Mothma explained. "I hope you understand that, under the current circumstances, Santhe Technologies is important to us. Not just for servicing Imperial equipment, but because they possess a technological base that could be useful to us."
Leia took her husband's hand and squeezed it gently.
"Oh," Han let out. "For a moment, I thought you wanted to find out whether Lianna is hiding some developments on the Death Star. Since we've all conveniently forgotten about it, even though Fey'lya said Thrawn has at least one 'Torpedo Sphere.' It's just unclear — the regular kind or that particular 'one of three' new ones..."
Mon Mothma's face darkened.
"I would be grateful if, during your visit to Lianna, you could help discreetly check the possibility of that terrible weapon being in the hands of the Santhe family's pro-Imperial neighbors," she said coldly. "And no, General Solo, we have not forgotten that such a threat exists. We remember it, even if most of us don't believe in its existence."
"Oh," the Corellian nodded. "I see, I see. The eternal 'if you don't remind us, better not to recall.'"
"We'd better go," the princess said to the Chandrilan. "We still need to prepare for departure..."
"Safe travels," Mon Mothma wished, in the same emotionless voice. "And good luck. To all of us."
"I get the feeling they just wanted to get rid of us for a while," Han told his wife as they made their way between the senators and support staff. "And suddenly they remembered the Death Star... I didn't want to make things worse by reminding them that you're actually on maternity leave."
"I know," Leia murmured. "I'm equally 'thrilled.' Winter will look after them while we're away."
"As always — we're on the front lines while Winter covers the rear."
Leia gently squeezed his hand.
"I worry about them no less," she admitted. "Luke said they are practically a hundred percent likely to be Jedi."
"And how did he determine that?" Han asked with interest. No, he was by no means against this interesting tradition continuing in his family, but... Seriously? The babies aren't even six months old, and Luke already knows they're future Jedi? How does that even work?
"He wanted to meditate before his departure," Leia said, "hoping the children would respond to his call through the Force."
"But something went wrong, didn't it?" the Corellian clarified.
"Jacen threw a pacifier at him, and Jaina threw a bottle of formula," the princess sighed.
"Big deal," Solo grunted. "The kids just didn't like someone sitting next to them like a statue..."
"Winter was in the nursery at the time," Leia explained. "She claims they did it without using their hands and feet. Well, after Luke changed his mind about meditating, he gave them some objects. Han, I still haven't managed to master telekinesis properly, but the kids..."
"Were juggling toys without using hands and feet?" the Corellian suggested.
"Uh-huh," Leia said quietly. "Except those were models of TIE Interceptors. And both of them clearly liked them..."
Han wanted to say everything he was thinking, but...
He decided to stay silent.
"Here we are," his resolve didn't last long. "We can confidently say Thrawn didn't give them Dominion citizenship for nothing."
"Han!" the princess said reproachfully.
"I had a feeling the kids would take to this more," Solo continued. "Maybe we should call the Grand Admiral and ask if he has a spot in the diplomatic service or freight transport?"
"Han!" Leia exclaimed with hurt in her voice, giving her husband a heavy look.
"I was just asking," the former smuggler joked.
The only problem is that every joke has only a grain of truth...
* * *
"Do you think they'll manage?" Rukh asked, watching through the camera how in the garbage collection bay, a dispute had been going on for two hours between a Togruta Jedi and a human Inquisitor.
"No," Tierce replied, continuing to solder an electronic board. "Hm... Looks like the detonation sensor is completely done for. What did you ask?"
"The Jedi and the Inquisitor," the Noghri pointed at the screen where the argument continued.
"Idiots," the major stated. "They've been arguing for two hours about who is cooler — Jedi or Sith."
"Who is more just," Rukh corrected him.
"I don't care," the guardsman stated. "That Force of theirs has messed with their heads. They carry it around like a treasure. But in reality, it's just a tool." He poked his soldering iron toward a bowl of silvery material. "Pass me the solder. I think I can fix the contact."
"And what does our master see in them?" the Noghri asked, passing the needed item to his surveillance partner. "Quarrels, accusations, mutual suspicions..."
"To be fair, we were pretty bad ourselves," Tierce reminded him. "Although..."
He looked thoughtfully to the side:
"I still don't trust you, Noghri."
"Same here," Rukh replied just as phlegmatically.
"So what can you expect from them?" the guardsman shrugged. "One is blissfully insane, the other is a total Darth Vader wannabe. Let them keep bickering; that's not our job."
"Watch and study a potential enemy," Rukh recalled the Grand Admiral's order.
"Exactly," Tierce nodded. For a few seconds he was busy with his work, then, finishing, he looked skeptically at his result. He poked it with a tester, then connected it to the rest of the mechanism...
... and threw the board in the trash.
A few seconds later, it fell from the garbage chute into a container next to which Ahsoka Tano and Reynar Obscuro were still arguing.
"Third container," Rukh confirmed. "They didn't even notice."
"Fanatics," Grodin sighed. "You know, I've been thinking..."
"Who watched us when we were in a similar situation?" Rukh understood immediately.
"Exactly," Tierce nodded. "And whether the observer had the same goal as we do now."
"These two are potential traitors," Rukh meowed. "The Jedi's thought about killing the master. And the Inquisitor mismanaged the expedition and wanted more power, control over one of the Jensaarai... We weren't like that."
"But that doesn't change the fact that someone also studied us," Grodin said.
"That's true," on the screen, the argument between the two Force adepts had reached a boiling point.
"But the master needs them for the upcoming operation," the Noghri reminded. "Maybe we shouldn't?"
"They'll stay alive," the guardsman snorted, reaching for the control panel. "And healthy. The only question is the smell..."
He pressed a couple of buttons...
And in the next instant, the entire foul-smelling mass from the third container, lifted from the bottom by the directed explosion of the guardsman's homemade bomb, drenched the arguing pair.
The argument instantly ceased. Now the Jedi and the Inquisitor were cleaning the foul-smelling liquid jelly of spent machine oil off themselves. Mixed with remains from the lower ranks' mess hall.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Rukh clarified. "You know Noghri have hypersensitive smell?"
"Sorry, buddy," the former guardsman spread his hands, "oil and organic matter leave a scent trail for days. Even if they wash thoroughly, you'll still pick up traces. But now neither of them will get close to the Grand Admiral unnoticed," Grodin stated firmly. "Even if they have a cloaking field."