Nine years, nine months, and twenty days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or the forty-fourth year, nine months, and twentieth day after the Great Resynchronization.
(Five months and five days since the Arrival.)
When the doors closed behind Garm Bel Iblis, the princess needed only a single glance to understand the mood of the new Supreme Commander of the New Republic Defense Forces. Yes, there were certain formalities regarding the precise title of the position, but the Force told her that such formalities would soon fall away as unnecessary.
Her heart clenched with pain and the understanding of the reasons for that premonition, but the young woman did not lose hope.
Bel Iblis sat down silently at the section of the table allocated to him, pointedly arranging a datapad and information chips on the surface.
He hadn't been this grim since the thought of the blockade by invisible asteroids had shaken everyone at the New Republic command post.
"The ships have returned, haven't they?" Mon Mothma asked quietly, thereby opening the extraordinary emergency session of the New Republic Provisional Government.
The Corellian nodded silently.
"How bad is it?" asked Crix Madine.
"Worse than it could have been, but better than total annihilation," Bel Iblis said.
An awkward silence fell.
"And... still?" Admiral Drayson inquired.
"To begin with, of the twelve squadrons sent to the attacked worlds, not a single one reached its destination," the Corellian said, staring straight ahead. "Scouts reached each of the attacked systems. I am regretfully forced to report that we were deceived. The enemy ships did indeed enter the specified systems, but after destroying the patrol forces and temporarily blockading the exit vectors and patrol routes, they withdrew without ever engaging our squadrons in battle. I suspect the actual scale of the fleet that attacked us is half of what I initially believed. Thrawn didn't launch a full-scale assault — he merely forced Admiral Nantz to dispatch enough ships to weaken Coruscant's covering forces. And after that demonstration, his squadrons joined up with the Chimaera and attacked the capital."
"Forgive me," General Madine said, tensing. "But... where did our squadrons go, then? Were they captured?"
"Destroyed," Bel Iblis said in a low voice. "Every last one."
"Great Force!" Leia exclaimed, unable to contain herself.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mon Mothma's pale face. The Chandrilan woman had covered her mouth in horror.
Madine clenched his teeth so hard that the sound of grinding enamel was audible.
Drayson, it seemed, was muttering curses under his breath. In three languages. Judging by everything, the choicest profanity.
"But that's still not bad news," the Corellian declared. Leia felt sweat break out on her brow. If the loss of an enormous number of warships constituted "not bad news," what was there to expect next? "Despite the investigation conducted by local forces, no one can say what actually happened. It's as if the ships arrived in the systems along vectors leading from Coruscant and simply exploded."
The wave of horror emanating from Mon Mothma was almost physically palpable.
She understood perfectly that no one would ever forgive the head of the Provisional Government for those mistakes, each of which effectively brought the New Republic to its knees. A little more, and the head of the democratic state might find itself on the chopping block.
And the executioner would be Grand Admiral Thrawn.
"Continue, Garm," Mon Mothma said in a voice that barely obeyed her, pulling herself together. "Could our ships have run into invisible asteroids, like what happened on Coruscant?"
"I doubt he'd pull the same trick on us multiple times, though it's possible," Bel Iblis shook his head. "Based on known data, constructing a single masking field projector costs an astronomical sum. I genuinely believe Thrawn doesn't have the capability to produce even a hundred of those devices, let alone equipping multiple asteroids with them. But this time... Most likely, he lured our ships into a camouflaged minefield programmed for simultaneous detonation. A meticulous calculation, based on his precise knowledge of where and how many ships we were deploying. Even their formation. We've been betrayed again."
The Corellian fell silent, reaching for a glass of water.
As he wet his throat, the princess caught Mon Mothma's focused gaze upon her. But she didn't understand its meaning, and asking would have been, at the very least, awkward — and not the place for such...
"The commanders of the Planetary Defense Forces all tell the same story," Bel Iblis continued. "Thrawn's ships weren't even planning to attack most of the planets. Instead, they disabled the sector relays and destroyed the communication stations. On Kril'Dor, admittedly, they hauled away all the tibanna reserves, just like on Bespin. They took the metal stockpiles, destroyed a smuggler base involved in our transport operations. But they didn't touch a single heavily populated planet. That's why I'm certain the objective was precisely to lure our ships out."
"How many mines would have to be laid to destroy fleets of that size?" Drayson asked sadly. "If this continues, then... How do we counter it?"
"Not a single guess," Bel Iblis agreed. "The only thing that comes to mind, however selfish and immoral it might sound, is that we lost ships that were morally obsolete. The MC90, as we saw in the Battle of Coruscant, is far sturdier."
"Forgive me, but are you seriously suggesting we discuss the advantages of one type of hardware over another right now?" Leia said in surprise. "We've lost hundreds of warships, hundreds of thousands of career military personnel, international prestige, and we've doomed Coruscant to starvation if we don't lift the siege immediately!"
"Counselor, the general meant nothing of the sort," Crix Madine explained. "We military types are used to learning lessons from defeats, as well. Especially from them. Right now, the Supreme Commander is indicating that we'll have to work very hard to rebuild the fleet..."
"I undoubtedly offer my condolences to the families of the fallen and sympathize with them, but our MC80-class battlecruisers have once again demonstrated their unreliability," Bel Iblis stated. "I am not suggesting we scrap them, by no means. But as part of the modernization and replenishment of the fleet, we absolutely must build MC90s."
"That falls within your purview," Mon Mothma noted.
"Unfortunately, yes," Bel Iblis sighed. "Allow me to move on to another matter... Though it is no less grave. I have dispatched the arriving ships to investigate what happened on Centax-II."
"It appears that base no longer exists," Madine intoned.
"In its place is a crater several hundred meters deep," Bel Iblis confirmed. "There are no survivors. Some died in the impact and subsequent detonation of ammunition and fuel fires. The others were killed by debris, shrapnel, and the shockwave."
"And...?" Leia began to stammer, but the sad look in the Corellian's eyes told her something terrible had happened.
"We found several barely alive members of the Home One's crew," Bel Iblis said. "Among them, the ship's commander and the chief engineer. According to them, the crash of Admiral Ackbar's flagship was the result of sabotage by droids that Thrawn had planted aboard their ship."
"So the raid we undertook into the Soulex system did not live up to our hopes?" Mon Mothma asked in a completely defeated tone.
"Thrawn destroyed our forces, traditionally capturing most of the ships and crews," Bel Iblis nodded. "But there are things that are even worse..."
"Even worse?!" Leia blurted out.
"Far worse," Bel Iblis admitted. "When the Home One and our fleet arrived in the system, it turned out Thrawn was already engaged in battle. Against some Imperial forces. He defeated them handily. And after the Home One attempted to attack, Thrawn cut it off with the forces of his enormous fleet. And also," the Supreme Commander (and there could be no doubt about this appointment after Ackbar's death, — he had at his disposal an Executor-class Super Star Destroyer.
"Kaine gave Thrawn the Reaper?" Madine said in surprise. "That can't be. The Grand Moff is meticulous about the security of his flagship."
"Ackbar assumed it was some other ship," Bel Iblis agreed. "Furthermore, the surviving crew members say the vessel had seen battle long before their arrival. The data from the engine scans would have been useful to us, but it was erased by the saboteurs. No one thought to make copies, and now the ship is destroyed, making it simply impossible to extract any information from its wreckage."
"But it's not the Lusankya, is it?" Mon Mothma inquired.
"No," Drayson stated. "It's still being repaired at the Rendili StarDrive shipyards. And I can confirm that the Reaper is still with Kaine — for the past month, he's been buzzing around his own shipyards like a stung man, spurring on the production of heavy cruisers."
"He's preparing for war," Leia said confidently. "Now that we're weakened, now that Coruscant is blockaded and all we can do is transmit orders through a low-orbit relay station via a temporary relay, it's the most opportune moment for an offensive."
"I agree," Drayson stated. "News of our dire situation, as well as the losses of the First Fleet, has already leaked into the HoloNet. We risk losing the loyal positions we hold among the Sullustans, the Sluissi, and indeed throughout the southern galaxy. Up to ten sectors in the southeast are already voicing support for secession on the grounds that we cannot even defend ourselves."
"And it's hard to blame them for such a logical thought," Madine agreed. "With forces many times smaller, Thrawn has dealt us a blow to the gut that we won't recover from for a long time."
"I have already ordered the use of all available financial resources to accelerate the fleet restoration program," Mon Mothma declared.
"I'm afraid that's not all, esteemed councilors," it seemed Bel Iblis was delivering one blow after another. "Thrawn has a weapon that is unequivocally dangerous to our ships."
"The Super Star Destroyer?" Madine clarified.
"As you already know, he somehow managed to mount an ion cannon, something like a v-150 Planet Defender, on an old Venator-class Star Destroyer," Bel Iblis reminded them. "With it, he brought down our Golan stations on the inner shield, and also disabled Ackbar's ships at Soulex."
"So it's no longer just a guess," Leia gasped, shuddering. "It's an accomplished fact."
"To our great regret, yes," Bel Iblis agreed. "There are, of course, positive aspects. Ackbar managed to discover a method for countering Thrawn's ambush tactics, but that's not enough. I won't flatter myself with the thought that I understand him, but I think he has already changed his tactics."
"What if he has several ships with ion cannons, not just one?" Mon Mothma asked.
"Such refits require an enormous amount of energy, not to mention credits," Bel Iblis said. "But, judging by how many camouflaged asteroids he's left in his wake, I'm certain he has no problem with the latter. Deploying such a weapon requires a suitable platform, and according to the latest data, he's using an obsolete Venator-class Star Destroyer for that purpose. At least, both at Soulex and at Coruscant, there was only one ship with such a weapon."
"For the time being, we should focus on breaking the blockade of Coruscant," Mon Mothma declared. "Of course, all this information should be passed on to the fleets for proper countermeasures, but we cannot allow panic to spread. Our allies must understand that despite the Dominion's temporary victories, we are ready to continue the war and win."
"In the past, the Alliance to Restore the Republic survived many critical moments, but we were never defeated," Leia agreed. "Yes, Thrawn attacked Coruscant, yes he killed and damaged many things, deprived us of orbital defenses, but we are still strong. We cannot give up! Balmorra also suffered, but at the same time, they managed to find a weapon that drove Thrawn back. Not without losses on their part, but the Balmorrans didn't throw in the towel; they continued to fight for their independence."
"That's not all," Bel Iblis coughed into his fist. "The scouts still haven't found our defense platforms. Nowhere in the system."
"He must have simply destroyed them," Drayson suggested.
"And repeated the same thing on Balmorra?" the Corellian asked with irony. "It's far too costly to immobilize the Golan stations just to get rid of them afterwards, and do it in such a way that no one sees it or finds any wreckage. No, this is something else."
"Any theories?" General Madine inquired.
"So far, based on the idea that Thrawn is still fooling us," Bel Iblis said. "He would never have passed up the opportunity to demonstrate his superiority to the Balmorrans by crashing the stations into the planetary shield. But instead, he sent saboteurs to the planet to attack the stations using Balmorra's own ion cannons."
"Are you suggesting he doesn't use his ion cannon destroyer more often for a reason?" Mon Mothma clarified.
"I suspect that either the ship needs repairs after every use — the power consumption of those cannons is enormous, and they demonstrated an extreme rate of fire," Bel Iblis said thoughtfully. "Or his ship is currently on another important mission that we haven't heard anything about yet."
"If that's the case, then in the current situation, aside from warning the Defense Forces throughout the galaxy about such actions, is there really nothing else we can do?" Mon Mothma asked.
"Unfortunately, as long as we are under siege, we cannot do anything substantial at all," the Corellian agreed.
"At least we are carrying out repair work on General Solo's and General Antilles' ships," Madine noted.
"Yes," Leia agreed. "It's just that Thrawn has destroyed or captured about twenty of our admirals and generals. The First Fleet is effectively without command after the confirmation of Admiral Nantz's death. Not to mention the fact that he practically trophy-hunted part of the fleet right before our eyes..."
"It's a humiliation that is almost impossible to wash away," Mon Mothma said, closing her eyes.
"They are nothing more than lost battles," Bel Iblis declared. "The war is not over. Any weapon that Thrawn might have used against us up to this point is already known. We know what to expect: ion cannons on ships, camouflaged asteroids, minefields..."
"A Super Star Destroyer," Leia supplied.
"If it's damaged, it's unlikely we'll see it anytime soon," Bel Iblis stated. "Thrawn doesn't give the impression of a typical Imperial warlord, and therefore he won't throw a damaged ship into battle without need. Besides, you must understand, that ship in itself is little more than a convenient target for torpedoes and bombs. Rogue Squadron demonstrated that in the battle against the Lusankya. I think we should use that experience and start installing launch systems on freighters..."
"We don't have enough of them as it is," Mon Mothma objected. "However," she softened her tone, realizing she had just nearly shattered the fragile trust she had shown the Corellian not so long ago — "that's your diocese; you know best. The only thing that concerns me right now is what measures are being taken to break the blockade of Coruscant."
"Can't we just lower the shields and let the asteroids burn up in the atmosphere?" Leia asked.
"If the asteroids were small, then yes," Bel Iblis agreed. "They would be meteoroids by then, of course. But our concern lies in a different dimension. If even one of the asteroids Thrawn dropped on our heads is the same size as the one that destroyed the orbital mirror, its fall onto the capital would lead to the destruction of entire districts. Especially if they're packed with explosives inside."
"From what Han said, it seems the fleet in the Battle of Coruscant suffered primarily from the asteroids' actions," Leia said, recalling a conversation with her husband.
"It's highly unlikely these were simple asteroids equipped with cloaking fields," General Madine noted. "The explosions were far too large, and then there are the radially spreading fragments the pilots keep talking about. No, that was detonation, nothing less."
"And consequently, the moment we open even a single segment above the city to let ships in or out, it's not impossible that an asteroid the size of a medium corvette will fall on our heads," Admiral Drayson noted. "Or even several, given the number of launches."
"We cannot sit idly by," Mon Mothma declared. "Thrawn attacked Coruscant to deprive the New Republic of coordination. General Iblis, you mentioned you have the launch trajectories of the invisible asteroids. How can that help us in the current situation?"
The Corellian was silent for a few seconds, clearly thinking the situation over, after which he pronounced:
"I am no expert on Star Destroyer launch systems, but one thing is clear: Thrawn is using our fear and the threat of political instability in case an invisible asteroid crashes onto Coruscant's surface to force us to keep the shields up. For that, he wouldn't need to launch hundreds of asteroids at once — a dozen would suffice."
"You suspect the other launches were fakes?" the Alderaanian princess asked.
"That's hardly possible," General Madine said doubtfully. "The scanners indicate the launchers were operating in a power-draw situation, meaning they must have been capturing objects with a very specific mass. Considering the energy consumption varied and clearly exceeded that of simple fighters or interceptors, they were clearly dropping objects of varying mass on us."
Bel Iblis looked at Drayson.
"Admiral," he addressed him. "You've had considerable experience with Star Destroyers. Is it possible to simulate the launching of objects?"
The Director of Republic Intelligence looked puzzled.
He might not have liked the Corellian who had taken the place of Supreme Commander (and that was an indisputable fact, everyone understood it perfectly well), but at the present moment, he had an opportunity for his hour of glory, one that might at least slightly overshadow the fiasco he had suffered during the last Battle of Coruscant.
"I think it is feasible," he mused for a while before offering his hypothesis. "If one possesses the technical know-how to service a tractor beam projector, one could reverse the feedback loop from the projector's antenna to the power accumulator, and then use a gravitational field disturbance simulator to simulate an object."
"The Imperials certainly possess the technical know-how regarding Imperial equipment," Leia noted. "But if so, then... Are there any technical means to distinguish a simulation from a real launch?"
"Thrawn's ships were at a distance exceeding the precision of our sensors," Drayson reminded them. "We only have data indicating that such an event took place. Whether it was actually executed, or was a simulation — no one can say for certain."
"I don't think it matters exactly how many real asteroids Thrawn launched," Mon Mothma said. "We need to figure out how to detect and destroy them to protect our citizens."
"The thing is, we currently don't have any guaranteed methods for detecting them," Bel Iblis sighed. "We don't know the type of masking device, so our current actions consist of testing every possible method for detecting and eliminating the threat. We've started bombarding the outer shield sector by sector with energy weapons, but due to the enormous area of the shield sphere, this could take an immense amount of time, even if we commit our entire available fleet. I would recommend deactivating the inner shield to reinforce the outer one. Not to mention the fact that powering both protective layers consumes an enormous amount of energy that we are taking away from the civilian population."
"What if one of the asteroids managed to penetrate the outer perimeter?" Leia asked.
"We'll deactivate the shields gradually, segment by segment," the general explained. "But first, we'll check each zone designated for shutdown. And only after we are certain there isn't a single camouflaged rock the size of a private house in it, will we power it down. But, I repeat, this procedure will take a tremendous amount of time."
"We need something more effective," Mon Mothma agreed.
"We're working on it," Bel Iblis assured her. "As of now, fleet forces on Anaxes have developed permanent communication systems that will soon be delivered for use to restore communications and control over the New Republic. The plan is to use them to replace the lost inhabited relay and the communications station in high orbit. Though the latter won't be much use if a drifting asteroid blows it apart."
"This will also help prevent panic from escalating," Mon Mothma declared. "At the moment, we are using temporary relays, depriving citizens of regular communication with the rest of the galaxy."
"Yes, the limited messages being sent beyond Coruscant threaten social unrest," agreed General Cracken. His gaze met Mon Mothma's. "I have already ordered my troops to be on standby in case Imperial provocateurs and saboteurs try to take advantage of the situation and attack government facilities."
"It's unlikely they'll need to," Drayson said darkly. "According to my information, during the attack, Thrawn's people broke into the security systems of our bases: the government base, intelligence, the Defense Forces... Everything they could reach — they got."
"Just like that?" Leia gasped.
"Judging by the fact that our computers suddenly became an order of magnitude slower overnight, and all the mothballed computing equipment in the Imperial Palace suddenly turned on and ran at maximum processor capacity, I suspect the same 'slicer' or group of 'slicers' responsible for the destruction of the Imperial Palace's database was at work," Drayson explained. "A certain algorithm was used that merged all the computers into a single computing network. Moreover, as we understand it, the intrusion was carried out through pre-prepared backdoors. Possibly left over from the time of the Empire..."
"So, they have all our secrets in their hands," Mon Mothma said in despair, dropping her face into her hands. "This is the end."
"We managed to cut power to some servers before they got to them, so we saved part of the data," Drayson admitted. "But I have to say, it's a drop in the ocean compared to what they took. Of course, they'll need a lot of time to decrypt the files — maybe even years."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Bel Iblis shook his head. "Since they cracked our computers like nuts, they shouldn't have much trouble with decryption either."
"We don't know that for sure," Drayson began, then, apparently realizing he'd talked himself into a logical trap, added awkwardly: "We assume we still have some time. Especially since the files are equipped with tracking tags. So once they activate them, they'll..."
."..they'll do it on special classified terminals disconnected from external networks," Madine stated, looking at the speaker. "Admiral, let's not be foolish. Thrawn is not the type of commander who would make an obvious mistake. He uses what works and plans his moves ahead. Do you really think he'd entrust the decryption of data obtained from such a major operation to amateurs?"
"Maybe so," Drayson snorted. "But his pool of subordinates is clearly finite. He can't just create geniuses at the snap of his fingers, can he?"
"Hmm..." Bel Iblis stroked his chin. "Do you know what struck me as strange when I studied the reports concerning Grand Admiral Thrawn's troop and ship movements?"
"Please, Garm, don't keep us in suspense," Mon Mothma said.
"They retrieve their fallen from the battlefield," the Corellian explained. "That's a rather unusual practice."
"Don't want us to identify the bodies?" Leia guessed, the first thing that came to mind.
"Maybe so," Bel Iblis agreed.
"Perhaps under the stormtrooper armor are actually droids," Drayson suggested.
"According to the Balmorran fighters, those are clearly people," Madine countered. "Unless he has a factory for cheap humanoid droids on hand, the idea doesn't hold up."
"But he couldn't have just acquired trained stormtroopers and crews for his ships — he clearly has dozens of them," Drayson persisted. "The heavy cruisers alone that we saw at Coruscant must require nearly two million crew. Not to mention the destroyers, light forces, interdictor cruisers... And there should have been forces left to defend the Dominion!"
"I hope," Leia said quietly, "no one thinks Thrawn actually turned our people?"
"That's out of the question," Bel Iblis stated firmly. "Of course, there can always be various kinds of weak-minded beings and traitors, but certainly not the majority. Most likely, the other Remnants provide Thrawn with their fighters in exchange for his services — for example, metal mining or looting tibanna sources."
"In that case, what are we left with?" Leia asked. "Sit and wait for an opportunity to attack Thrawn, catching him alone somewhere in the Outer Rim?"
"Intelligence is working on that," Drayson said.
"As are the Defense Forces," Bel Iblis said modestly. "I have a few ideas about what Thrawn's next targets might be. And planning is underway."
"Glad to hear it," Mon Mothma said. "I understand this meeting isn't quite appropriate for resolving such issues, but I'll ask anyway. There are several personnel vacancies on the agenda. I don't think anyone here will object to appointing General Garm Bel Iblis as Supreme Commander of the New Republic Defense Forces?"
"I support it," Leia said first.
"Likewise," General Cracken echoed.
"Fey'lya will be furious when he learns decisions were made behind his back," Drayson shook his head.
"Well," the Chandrilan spread her hands, "it so happens he's out of communication range. My assistants tried to contact him — nothing but silence. Bothawui is stonewalling, so the wildest guesses about his whereabouts are possible."
"Nevertheless," the man sighed bitterly, realizing he had no real choice, "I also support it."
"I prefer to abstain," Bel Iblis said modestly.
And that's understandable.
The confirmed death of Admiral Ackbar creates a huge power vacuum that needs to be filled. Mon wants to do it by appointing someone she can trust and rely on. And she's deliberately doing it in the Bothan's absence, not allowing him to influence the Provisional Government's decision or appeal to the Senate. Even if he tries to challenge the appointment later, citing that it was made in his absence, such arguments would be laughable — he was contacted to notify him of the meeting. If he votes for himself, it would be a display of arrogance. If he refuses, then all the New Republic will soon know that he tried everything to avoid a predetermined position. And that in turn will undermine any trust in him.
"It's decided," Mon Mothma said, striking a gavel on the wooden stand. "General Garm Bel Iblis — congratulations on your appointment."
"Thank you," the Corellian said modestly.
"Your first task in your new position," Mon Mothma said, "besides lifting the blockade of Coruscant, will be to develop plans for a counterstrike. If we cannot fight Thrawn head-on, we must make his allies think twice about whether supporting the Grand Admiral is a luxury they can afford."
Bel Iblis furrowed his brow.
"At the moment, the fleet is weakened," he reminded.
"We have something that outweighs all of Thrawn's arguments," Mon Mothma stated categorically.
Seeing the lack of understanding in the eyes of those present, she explained: "Unlike him, we have a nearly repaired super Star Destroyer."
"There's still much to be done before the Lusankya is combat-ready," Admiral Drayson remarked.
"Do what needs to be done," Mon Mothma ordered, looking into Bel Iblis's eyes. "We must not allow the work of our entire lives to fall to the Grand Admiral's blows. Thrawn is neither the first nor the last Imperial commander we have faced."
The newly appointed Supreme Commander, after a moment of silence, nodded in agreement.
Arguing was pointless — after the strike on Coruscant, everyone understood the need for a response. The harsher, the better. They might not be able to defeat Thrawn in a single battle, but there was every chance to 'reason with' his allies — both open and covert.
Not to mention that such a campaign always offered an opportunity to strengthen the New Republic's military or industrial potential.
Why?
Because Leia had already begun to suspect who would be the first target on the list.
"Due to Admiral Nantz's death, the position of First Fleet Commander has opened up, so," Mon Mothma looked toward the only admiral present, "I propose appointing Hiram Drayson to this post. General Madine will replace you as Director of Republic Intelligence."
Drayson, sighing with relief, nodded in agreement. That was essentially all that was needed, since the decision had practically been made in advance by a group of like-minded individuals.
Madine, as always taciturn, agreed...
There were dozens, if not hundreds, of other issues requiring the Provisional Government's time and attention.
Returning home late at night, exhausted Leia found strength only to kiss her sleeping children on their little noses and slip under the covers, pressing against the warm side of her beloved Corellian.
She managed only a couple of hours of sleep before Winter woke her, bringing a message from the Provisional Government.
Reading the dispatch, the Alderaanian groaned and began to dress.
"Thrawn's tricks again?" Han asked impassively, finding her at it.
Her husband spoke with his eyes nearly closed, since along with Antilles, he was overseeing and directly involved in both repairing damage to the ships and developing plans to lift the blockade of Coruscant.
"If only it were tricks," Leia shook her head. "A full-scale offensive."
Han opened one eye.
"You're joking, right?" he clarified. Seeing the princess's expression, he guessed the answer. "And where?"
"The Roche asteroids," she explained. "Just reported. The Verpines are having a really hard time now."
* * *
The turbolasers of the Steel Aurora were choking, pouring into the void the monstrous power contained within them by the designer who had brought to life such a unique and magnificent weapon of destruction.
TIE bombers darted past the Star Destroyer's bridge, launched from the escort carrier positioned in the rear, beyond the asteroid field.
The pot-bellied ships, locking onto designated targets, began launching proton torpedoes, painting the blackness of space with crimson tracers of their terrifyingly powerful projectiles.
The Steel Aurora does its work.
"Launch tubes twenty-one through forty, direct fire on the repair asteroid — fire," ordered Captain Kalian, watching as twenty launch tubes in the ship's bow erupted with smoke trails that instantly streaked toward a colossal chunk of rock pockmarked with construction structures.
The asteroid was a massive boulder about thirty times larger than the Steel Aurora itself, used by the natives for repairing New Republic ships.
And now, through the atmospheric shields of the vast maw of the main hangar, twenty additional rockets flew into the repair base, bringing devastation and further detonations inside the facility.
Explosions tore Republic fighters apart, turning them into debris and flashes of detonations.
Three other Victory-class Star Destroyers, part of the tactical task force under Kalian's command, followed their commander's example, filling three more hangars with fire.
"Shift left thirty, speed two, steady," ordered the commander of the Steel Aurora. The starship began to smoothly drift around its axis, turning its starboard side.
And again, twenty smoky rocket launches.
And again, a shift.
And again, a launch — from the aft torpedo tubes.
The Steel Aurora spun on a dime, spewing rocket and turbolaser fire every time its launch bays belched flame, and a rain of rockets fell upon the sinful heads of the Verpines.
The timing of the attack was perfect.
Dominion intelligence had calculated the exact shift-change intervals on the asteroid. Old workers left, and new ones hadn't yet reported for duty.
Thus, only the enemy's military assets were destroyed, with minimal casualties among the locals.
After the sixth full salvo, which the magnificent quartet of Star Destroyers delivered, they achieved the desired result.
"Withdrawing," Captain Kalian warned. "We've done our work here."
The enormous structure became covered in hundreds of cracks, finally succumbing to the destructive influence of spreading internal detonations.
Pieces of the cosmic boulder were literally torn out by the roots, ejected sideways in a fiery firework.
Against the backdrop of a huge white-orange explosion that illuminated the Roche asteroids astern of the four withdrawing Victory-class ships, the asteroids that the enemy had used for covering turbolaser batteries — hoping they would help repel an attack — now seemed immeasurably small, torn apart by anti-ship missiles.
It didn't help.
The nimble and well-armed Corellian DP20 gunships proved too much for the Verpines' mighty defenses. Their heavy weaponry simply couldn't be effectively used against small targets.
And the gunships themselves, together with the Victory-class ships, having launched missile strikes to breach the asteroid barricades, now easily fended off the rare harassing patrols of the Verpines.
Captain Kalian watched with curiosity as a huge hole of cleared space gaped in the asteroid belt. Anti-ship missiles had easily destroyed numerous large asteroids, allowing the quartet of Star Destroyers to break through the outer perimeter and destroy the military facility to its foundations.
And now, without fear of scraping hull plates on asteroids, the four Victory-class ships filed out of the dangerous area, letting their own swift starfighter wings cover the capital ships' retreat.
"Prepare a dispatch for the Chimaera," Captain Kalian ordered, forming the text of the message in his mind. "'Priority targets at the Roche asteroids destroyed, withdrawing to rendezvous point.' Encrypt and send to the Grand Admiral immediately."
"Aye, Captain," the watch officer replied briskly.
The commander of the Steel Aurora noted with satisfaction that the current sortie had cost only one squadron of TIE interceptors and the destruction of two DP20 gunboats.
An excellent result, especially considering they had just destroyed over a hundred Republic corvettes, frigates, and other light forces that had been gathering dust here in a semi-disassembled state awaiting repair and modernization.
Now the only place where the repaired ships, taken out of mothballs, could be useful was a scrap metal yard.
And even that was unlikely.
* * *
Xamuel Lennox considered himself a noble man and, for as long as he could remember, had tried to follow in the footsteps of his ancestors as an officer loyal and faithful to his fatherland.
Captain Xamuel Lennox.
In the Imperial Navy, he was considered a skilled tactician, a man worthy of attention with leadership qualities.
All of this, coupled with unwavering loyalty to the Galactic Empire, paved his way to the bridge of a Tyrant-class Star Destroyer — one of the most famous ships, once part of Darth Vader's Death Squadron.
Over all these years, Lennox could not reproach himself for poor performance of his duties.
His ship was in exemplary condition, not just as a picture on a cover, but in fact. Darth Vader himself had noted this repeatedly, entrusting the Tyrant and its crew with important assignments.
Although it was not customary in officer circles, he genuinely supported his crew, rejoicing with them at every significant success.
His subordinates' competence was beyond question, and tactical failures — such as when the Tyrant was damaged in battle by ion cannon fire on Hoth, or failed to hold the defector Crix Madine — did not, contrary to many expectations, lead to his untimely demise at the hands of Lord Vader.
He hated that in his time the Empire was mired in corruption, betrayal, and political maneuvering, unlike the noble regimes his ancestors had served in the past. However, Lennox knew that if he tried to rise above the Empire's corruption while others did not, he would ultimately be crushed by the Imperial war machine, just as the Galactic Republic had been. With this mindset, Lennox decided to beat his enemies at their own game, proving he was as skilled in cunning and deception as he was in commanding a Star Destroyer.
As a result, he managed to maintain his position, achieve significant results in his duties, and avoid the wrath of the Dark Lord of the Sith — as his ill-wishers within the Imperial military had hoped.
Lennox, despite seeing, recognizing, and understanding the significant shortcomings of the Empire's bureaucratic machine, did not become a traitor; he did not go over to the rebels. He regarded the latter solely as mutineers, rioters, criminals. For all his internal disagreement with the actions of the Empire and its rulers, Lennox believed the Rebel Alliance was even more flawed. Since they started the Galactic Civil War, in the captain's opinion, the blood shed since the first shots of the civil war was on their hands.
Unlike most of the younger generation, raised on stories of the Galactic Republic's perfection and flawlessness, Lennox had critical thinking. Moreover, he knew that the Republic the rebels championed and wanted to restore was just as riddled with corruption as the Empire they opposed.
Lennox considered the Alliance immoral and hypocritical, and the Empire corrupt and unethical. Believing a more suitable government would never exist, Lennox sided with the Empire, which he considered legitimate, and helped fight the rebels.
Comparing the existing regimes, acknowledging all the viciousness of the Imperial bureaucracy — inherited almost unchanged from the Galactic Republic — the captain concluded that the Empire was still a more stable regime that had solved many of the galaxy's problems.
The peace and order brought to the galaxy almost thirty years ago with the reorganization of the Republic into the Empire was now rapidly crumbling.
Xamuel sat on his tiny cot, hands behind his head, silently staring at the simple gray walls of his cell.
Even though the former rebels had worked hard to paint over the emblems on the prison ship, drawing their own pictography over the Galactic Empire's crest, they hadn't succeeded.
Beneath the sloppy drawings of the New Republic's crest, the Imperial 'cog' still showed through.
Symbolic, given that after the capture of Coruscant, the rhetoric of the former rebels had changed in practice.
Every crew member of the Tyrant who had followed their commander and refused to swear allegiance to the New Republic felt this. Yes, they had been given that chance when the rebels captured the Tyrant a couple of years ago and renamed it some sort of their own obscenity.
And now, two years later, the crew — at least those who remained true to their inner core — were aboard a Lictor-class prison ship belonging to the Galactic Empire... Oh, sorry, the New Republic. Yes, a slip of the tongue, it happens. No matter how much you talk about what wonderful fighters for peace and democracy you are, the imperatives still show through. Like the Empire's crest, carelessly painted over on the cell wall...
The journey in the solitary cells of the prison ship was one-way.
The remnants of the Tyrant's crew — over thirty thousand people — were currently being moved across half the galaxy, from the colony to a maximum-security prison somewhere in the southern sectors. Most likely, the prison convoy was heading to Bakura — since the New Republic wasn't above using the most vile and uncomfortable prison ships of the Galactic Empire, their prisons were probably also put to use.
A Lictor-class prison ship.
Well, now it was finally clear that the New Republic was just hiding behind talk of democracy. In reality, they were the same bureaucrats and embezzlers who had lurked in the shadows during the Empire and now crawled out of every crack...
Apparently, the prison complex on Bakura would be their final resting place, as the crew had almost unanimously refused to drop all charges in exchange for swearing allegiance to the New Republic.
They remained faithful to the ideals they had sworn to. But Lennox knew that sooner or later the crew would break and go along with Coruscant.
Because, as soon as he heard that Imperial Space had recaptured his Tyrant, his spirits had lifted, hoping they would come for them too... Well, not all expectations come true.
That was probably what those tasked with recruiting among the Tyrant's crew thought too.
And they surely reached the same conclusion: don't expect everything to go the way you want.
Out of spite, they were being transferred from the mines to a place where even starlight was a rare guest.
A petty revenge from the New Republic's leadership...
A sharp, unexpected jolt threw the captain from his spot.
He flew a meter, slamming into the door of his cell.
Strangely, this helped him understand what had happened.
The ship had just made an unscheduled exit from hyperspace. That meant someone had activated the gravity wells and...
Strangely, the lights went out the next second, and a bolt of electricity ran across the electronic lock of the door...
"Blast it all!" Xamuel muttered, manually sliding the door panel into its groove.
Someone had just conducted a precision ion cannon barrage on at least this Lictor! And very successfully!
Peering out, he was met with pitch darkness.
Even the emergency lighting had given up the ghost. Oh no, within a couple of seconds everything turned a crimson red, making the atmosphere even more ominous.
But the sounds of opening cells kept breaking the silence...
So there was a chance.
"Crew!" Captain Lennox commanded loudly, peering into the faces of his comrades. "Everyone, attention! I don't know what's happened, but this ship is ours now! Arm yourselves and move to the bridge!"
It was doubly satisfying that his orders were obeyed immediately. So years of captivity hadn't destroyed their discipline.
Very good, then.
There weren't that many Republic personnel on board. The guards were all droids, which should have been disabled by the ion charge.
Consequently, all that remained was to claw their way to freedom, capture the bridge and armory, figure out what was happening, and get out of here.
The crew members, excited by the new prospects, armed themselves with whatever they could.
Railings were broken off to make light but sturdy clubs; metal strips serving as supports for technical pipes and conduits were torn out.
Within five minutes, hundreds of 'Tyrants' were already armed with makeshift stabbing and bludgeoning weapons.
Doling out commands and assigning the crew in groups to various parts of the ship, Xamuel led the largest of the prisoner parties, which moved toward the bow.
They encountered several deactivated guards armed with blasters along the way and acquired more powerful weaponry.
That proved useful during the assault on the bridge, where the ship's skeleton crew had sensibly dug in.
The firefight didn't take long — a couple of minutes later, Lennox settled into the command chair, watching with interest what was happening outside what was now his ship.
And there was plenty to see.
An Imperial-I class Star Destroyer, supported by six heavy Dreadnaught-class cruisers, with a screen of a dozen Corellian corvettes, and with an interdictor cruiser and a Venator-class Star Destroyer at its disposal, was wrecking the escort forces of the prison convoy.
The Lictors were already drifting, helpless and powerless, while ships carrying landing forces — Lambda shuttles, Sentinel shuttles, Gamma shuttles — moved toward them with outstretched wings.
"Has the Empire really remembered us?" someone among the junior officers who had crowded into the bridge gasped.
"Unlikely," Lennox replied dryly, pointing at the golden emblem adorning the Star Destroyer's hull. A gear with circles radiating from it. "As I recall, rumors reached me that one of the Grand Admirals had managed to survive and organized his own Remnant. The Dominion."
"Yes, sir," the junior artilleryman confirmed. "I heard that too. The Overseers said that Grand Admiral Thrawn had supposedly returned from the Unknown Regions. Though I'd never heard of him — I thought it was just stories."
"Thrawn?" Xamuel snorted. "No, not stories. There was such a man. He ground the traitor Zaarin to dust in a few months. If these really are his ships," the captain pointed at the Star Destroyer, "I think we've found the man who decided to secure our liberation."
"Wrong assumption," a voice sounded from behind.
Xamuel turned.
His gaze slid over a sturdy man, who regarded the naval officers with the indifferent stare of a professional killer.
He wasn't from the Tyrant's crew. He'd been brought to their location not long ago, supposedly working in some secret laboratory for one of the Imperial warlords, creating a new Death Star.
That was precisely why he'd always been an outcast.
Lennox had never been fond of the New Order, and there weren't many ideological supporters among the crew either. And the "Doctrine of Fear" of that dead bastard Tarkin was viewed with outright hostility.
If not for the man's iron fists and professional combat training, he'd have had his ribs kicked in long ago.
"What are you talking about?" Lennox asked.
"The wrong assumption is to consider Grand Admiral Thrawn a man," the stranger said distinctly, holding a blaster. Judging by the bloodstains on it, the previous owner had parted with it most reluctantly. "He does not belong to the human race, and therefore does not adhere to the ideals of the New Order in his views. Nor does he enforce them in his subordinates."
"Is that so," Lennox nodded, trying to figure out what this bruiser wanted. "Thanks for the enlightenment. Would you care to explain where you learned this?"
"Easily," the man grinned, pocketing the blaster. "I and my comrades were taken prisoner on Linuri solely for the purpose of finding the New Republic's secret prisons, in order to free those ready to swear allegiance to the Grand Admiral. Today you have an excellent opportunity not only to reclaim the ranks and regalia rightfully yours, but also to serve the cause of establishing true peace and order. Without the xenophobia and prejudice of Palpatine's Galactic Empire and his supporters."
"More and more interesting every day," Lennox remarked. "I won't make any promises — I'd like to speak with the Dominion's more competent officer corps."
"As you see fit," the spy said indifferently, turning his back and heading for the airlock. "One way or another, this ship will head to the Grand Admiral. With you or without you."
Three hours later, having repaired the damage from the ion bombardment and left the burning remains of Republic frigates on the battlefield, the Death's Head and the ships of her formation departed the engagement area, escorting the Tyrant's crew vessels to the Dominion.
Meanwhile, across the galaxy, the New Republic's prison complexes were shaken by unrest, by uprisings in anticipation of the Dominion's task force arrivals, freeing Imperial servicemen who had long lost hope.
Outposts and workshops servicing New Republic military installations exploded, transports carrying vital cargo vanished into hyperspace, and the voices of disgruntled peoples from Sullust and Sluis Van grew louder.
The Dominion's agent network had struck its blow. Despite the scale of events, this was only the beginning.
Molo Himron's clones had received very concrete instructions and objectives for their work in destabilizing the enemy, forcing the New Republic to spend its strength quelling internal squabbles while Grand Admiral Thrawn's plans continued to unfold.
* * *
"The Spies slipped through unnoticed?" I clarified, setting aside the datapad with data on the Dathomir system.
"Both modified ARC-170s were not detected by the enemy," Pellaeon confirmed. "The enemy made no attempt to counter or attack them."
"Which is still not proof of our reconnaissance mission's secrecy," I countered.
"You suspect the enemy's preparation of starships for departure is a deception?" Gilad asked.
"No," I shook my head. "That's an evacuation of the ground base. The enemy has been alerted by Darth Maul to our intervention. There are only three Star Destroyers on Dathomir, and consequently, the battle's outcome is clearly expected to be unfavorable for them. Given those prospects, the most logical course is to flee to the base that Maul himself was so eager to reach."
"After Donell's death, we also don't know where to go next," Pellaeon noted. "I don't believe Dathomir is the final destination."
"I'm certain of it," but only because I know where that ship was destroyed in the events I'm familiar with. If we can't find a "legitimate" source of information, we'll have to rely on that. "Bring the fleet to full combat readiness. We're moving."
The formation led by the Chimaera was half an hour's flight at faster-than-light speed from Dathomir, awaiting the reconnaissance results.
Once again, I am convinced that even old machines can be useful, provided you work on them properly.
Well, the reconnaissance data is in hand — now we just need to strike…
"Begin, Captain," I ordered.