Nine years, nine months, and twenty-four days after the Battle of Yavin…
Or the forty-fourth year, nine months, and twenty-four days after the Great Resynchronization.
(Five months and ten days since the Arrival.)
After General Bel Iblis finished his speech, a brief silence fell over the Provisional Government assembly hall.
"Are you certain of your conclusions?" Mon Mothma was the first to break the silence, gazing at the elderly Corellian with eyes full of hidden hope.
"As much as possible," Bel Iblis muttered. "So many days of searching, and we haven't found a single asteroid. No matter how hard we tried, no matter how many checks we ran — everything points to the fact that we can't find anything but interstellar void. I and Generals Solo and Antilles have taken every possible action we could think of. However skeptical I was of information brokers, Karrde was right. There isn't a single asteroid left above Coruscant."
Still, despite the welcome news, only Leia among those present was free with her sighs of relief.
She had believed until the very end that Karrde might have been lying, but...
Everything turned out exactly as "the Claw" had said — thirty-six camouflaged asteroids. Not one more.
But the faces of Mothma's and Madine's advisors were not brightening.
On the contrary, they were focused and tense.
As the de facto head of state and the director of Republic Intelligence should be, puzzled by everything happening in the capital in the current situation.
"And at the same time," Madine cleared his throat, "your research doesn't disprove the fact that there could be more asteroids. After all, Thrawn has no reason to give the Alignment's shipyard workers data on secret developments — the Grand Admiral has his own shipyards. And the cloaking technology, whatever he used, is a significant argument. For that reason, it's unlikely that a conspirator like Thrawn would have taken such a risk."
Leia's spirits fell as she instantly realized that the director of Republic Intelligence had voiced something she hadn't even thought of.
"No," Bel Iblis objected in a confident tone. "A conspirator like Thrawn would never spread technical details of cloaking generators. That's precisely why he sent the asteroids to Yaga Minor — because they had infrastructure there that he didn't possess until now. And possibly still doesn't. Since we've established that Thrawn was originally based on Tangrene, I can say with certainty that it was in order to acquire the necessary infrastructure for processing and mounting the asteroids. Tangrene only has an orbital repair yard, and it doesn't have those capabilities — you need miners and equipment for that. Ciutric has them, but Thrawn acquired the Hegemony relatively recently. Besides, don't forget that the question of secrecy also hasn't been canceled. If even a single model, technical information, or specifications of the working mechanism had leaked to us, we could already be ready to strike. And we would have struck any location where a crystal gravity trap could currently be found — and that's at least three such locations we know of, including Bilbringi and Tangrene. Therefore I'm more than confident that Thrawn manufactured the projectors at the Tangrene shipyards and mounted them there on asteroids prepared at the Yaga Minor shipyards. And only after that, having weakened us and inflicted significant losses on the First Fleet, did he use his asteroids, taking great care that we wouldn't get a single one — hence the sensor arrays we saw when the asteroid collided with the orbital mirror."
"From Thrawn's perspective, such a maneuver wouldn't have been so expected," Madine noted. "He doesn't maintain any serious relationship with Kaine, and the Alignment maintains neutrality in the conflict. Besides, we can see that the asteroids were transported by civilian ships that previously belonged to Karrde. Consequently, if the 'Claw' himself hadn't ended up at Yaga Minor, we would never have learned what was happening there. You could call it blind luck."
"Which has saved the Alliance many times in the past," Leia reminded them. "The Force has always accompanied our cause and didn't abandon us this time."
"And what if it has abandoned us this time?" Madine asked. "These last six months, it hasn't been so favorable to us."
Leia looked helplessly at Bel Iblis.
Because no thought had come to her mind to support her idea — to trust Karrde and hope that at least this time everything would be all right.
She had exhausted all her abilities — both diplomatic and those granted to her by nature. But no matter how hard she tried, even the Force hadn't helped her detect those damn huge rocks for the last five days. And the reason she couldn't do it remained a mystery — whether due to her own weakness or because there really were no more cloaked asteroids in orbit.
"And what do you propose we do next?" Bel Iblis asked calmly. "The food on the planet will literally run out tomorrow. And every person on the planet believes the Imperial Palace has a huge stockpile of food that we're supposedly hiding for our own needs. And in orbit, there's a huge caravan of accumulated transports full of food. If you want my opinion, we've dragged our feet on making a decision. One more day, and the crowd will take to the streets. Neither police, nor droids, nor General Rieekan's garrison will help — when people have nothing to eat, even heavy blasters won't stop them. Even artillery. And that's assuming the army doesn't mutiny..."
"Couldn't our intelligence services find and neutralize the instigators of the unrest?" Mon Mothma frowned.
"We found them," Madine agreed. "Detained them. Checked them. They're just hungry citizens who understand the threat hanging over them but can no longer remain on a planet that's become dangerous in its own right. General Iblis is right — one more day of blockade and hunger, and the crowd will march on the Palace. Two more days, and even an open sky won't save us."
"Thrawn didn't leave Coruscant for last for nothing," Leia declared. "He cast doubt on the security of the periphery, forcing nearly a trillion citizens of the New Republic — and that's just official migration data — to seek refuge on Coruscant. Unofficially, the number is much larger. If the Grand Admiral had been capturing the planets he attacked, the panic would have been much less — sentients would have stayed on their planets, understanding that the Chiss certainly wouldn't return there. But by attacking and then leaving orbit, he only escalates the panic. Logically, citizens assumed Coruscant was the safest place in the galaxy and rushed here, hoping the Grand Admiral couldn't attack."
"And we failed to notice the moment of this colossal population influx," Mon Mothma stated grimly. "And now, where we could have survived quite a long time on reserve supplies with our permanent population, we find ourselves on the brink of starvation."
"And we're forced to make a hard decision," Bel Iblis reminded her. "Whether to lower the outer shield or not."
"What's the probability that when we deactivate the outer shield, we can redirect the inner shield's power flows to power it without cutting off the city's power supply?" Mon Mothma inquired.
"None," Bel Iblis shook his head. "After the Battle of Coruscant during the Clone Wars, the Senate decreed that the planet be equipped with a double deflector shield. But in the intervening time, the number of power consumers grew. And it was done at the expense of the inner shield's deflector generators. That's why we deactivated it — so that a huge number of residents wouldn't be left without power for an extended period. If we do this now, we'll leave half the planet without power. Because the generators responsible for the outer deflector shield aren't designed for that. We tried to rewire it, but we simply don't have the right equipment. And the time needed for such work is measured in months, even working around the clock."
"So the situation is a stalemate?" Mon Mothma asked gloomily.
"I'm afraid so," General Madine said. "Leave everything as it is — we risk triggering hunger riots. If Karrde was wrong, we face the fall of several hundred asteroids, each thirty to forty meters in diameter and packed with explosive materials."
"I'll stick to my opinion all the same," Bel Iblis declared. "Either there are no asteroids, or the number remaining is insignificant."
"Can our planetary defense system handle falling rocks?" Mon Mothma asked.
"Theoretically, when entering the dense layers of the atmosphere at high speed, celestial bodies should burn up," Leia said. "If the cloaking field doesn't have the same friction-reducing properties as deflectors, they'll remain with their invisibility systems operational."
"Let's hope that's not the case," Mon Mothma said darkly. "Otherwise, all we have left is to pray."
Bel Iblis and Leia looked questioningly at the Chandrilan woman.
"Lower the shield," she said. "And may the Force be with us."
* * *
The blackness of space, dotted with pinpricks of stars, had become so ingrained in the everyday life of the galaxy that it had turned into routine.
And so Grand Moff Ferrus, settled into the comfortable chair of his office aboard a Procursator-class Star Destroyer, didn't even pay attention to the mesmerizing sight of a comet flying past.
Just as he paid no attention to the two guards in black-and-red armor who served as his personal bodyguards.
And he wasn't even interested in the several warships hanging in close proximity to his flagship, which belonged not to the Dominion at all.
On the contrary — both those old Marauders and a good dozen bulk carriers belonging to the "Super Tanker XI" series, one of the best produced at Kuat, belonged to the Dominion's enemies.
And their leader was currently moving toward this very compartment, accompanied by his own soldiers and several specialists who would have no trouble dispatching all Dominion opponents aboard the Star Destroyer.
But for now, the enemies were supposed to live, so their bodies were not yet growing cold.
The Grand Moff set aside his personal datapad when the office doors slid apart, admitting a furry sentient in an expensive suit and several soldiers from his personal guard. To the side and behind this procession, squat figures in dark brown cloaks moved. From a distance, they could have been mistaken for Jawas from Tatooine, and that cover had worked well in the past.
Nodding to the Noghri, the Grand Moff smiled at the impassive face of the lead negotiator, then courteously gestured to the chair opposite his own.
The guest snorted indignantly and literally flopped into the chair, sinking into it, which drew another smile from Felix.
He had personally met this sentient only once before, not counting the current rendezvous.
But still, this sentient was more than familiar.
"Counselor Fey'lya, pleased to meet you again."
"I protest the flagrant disrespect and provocations you are committing," his voice, despite the circumstances, still carried the melodious quality inherent to the natives of Bothawui. Which meant he wasn't irritated and was merely trying to cloud his interlocutor's mind with his stupid procedures. "I thought you and I had reached a certain agreement at our first meeting."
Felix put on a smile.
"Has something happened to make you think otherwise?" he clarified. "As I recall the terms of the deal, your people purchase the equipment we need, and in exchange, you tacitly receive a new batch of Bothan prisoners. Ten thousand of your kin have already returned to Bothawui; today you'll receive another fifty."
The Bothan straightened his shoulders. He could be considered a fairly large male, but next to the tall, well-built Dominion man, he looked more than modest.
"Then perhaps you'll explain why the galaxy is buzzing about Bothans buying up weapons and defense technologies?" The Bothan narrowed his slanted purple eyes, staring straight into the Grand Moff's face. "The agreement concerned exclusively construction equipment and information!"
"The galaxy is vast and full of gossip," Felix remarked softly. "Why do you think we should be held responsible for every rumor that spreads across the sectors?"
"Because your agents are clearly behind it!" Fey'lya insisted. "You're copying our style of covert procurement, but you're doing it carelessly! All suspicion falls on us!"
"My dear Counselor," Felix said patiently. "You and your people are free to withdraw from the deal with the Grand Admiral at any time convenient for you. No one is forcing anyone to do anything."
Fey'lya's mane, which had settled, bristled. Felix smiled again: it was pleasant dealing with an understanding interlocutor.
The Bothan figured out quite quickly that breaking the deal would have far-reaching consequences. Including the disclosure of the fact that the remnants of the Bothawui fleet had decided to snatch a piece of the pie from under the New Republic's nose at the Battle of Soulex.
"I demand that you stop discrediting my people!" the Bothan squealed.
"That's what you say," Felix agreed. "I'll repeat what I've already told you: if you don't like it, you know where the exit from my destroyer is. If not, the Noghri will show you the nearest airlock."
There was no point in bristling his fur any further — every hair was already standing strictly perpendicular to his frail body. Right now, he bore a striking resemblance to a house pet that had been washed and dried with a heating device.
"Do you call this constructive dialogue?"
"Nothing that would keep me up at night," Ferrus assured the Bothan. "But if you like, I can suggest you address your complaints to Ysanne Isard or the Grand Admiral..."
"Are you mocking me?" Fey'lya howled. "While our brave soldiers languish in captivity and endure unprecedented suffering!.."
"I'm merely offering you options, Counselor," Felix cut off the Bothan's lamentations. "Stop testing my patience and report substantively on the results of your people's work."
Fey'lya hissed like his distant ancestor.
"Don't you dare set conditions for me!" he snarled, regaining the ability to speak Basic. "Your actions cast a shadow on the Bothan people. These deals will unquestionably be associated with us. And when such technologies are not found in our possession, questions will be asked. Many and extremely unpleasant questions that will cast a shadow of suspicion on the Bothans as those who are accumulating forces for uncertain purposes."
"I care very little about the Bothans' reputation, Counselor," the Grand Moff said. "There is an agreement. You took this step yourself. You approached Dominion officials yourself. Your lamentations about possible consequences only demonstrate the fact that the Bothans are once again trying to renegotiate unfavorable terms. Well," the man made a gesture with his hand, "I have something to say to you on that score."
At the peak of the tension, the Noghri made their move, instantly turning the Counselor's guards into furry lumps leaking bloody bubbles as they lay strewn across the deck.
Fey'lya looked back in fright, catching the moment when the Noghri were wiping their obsidian blades on the fur of the dead.
And at that same moment, a woman in a red admiral's uniform stepped calmly out from behind a hidden panel...
He had thought the Bothans had come a long way from their ancestors.
But looking at how Fey'lya's fur stood on end, perpendicular to the deck, and his claws dug into the armrest of his chair, one had to admit the obvious — no, the people of Bothawui had not come far.
"Counselor," Ysanne Isard said with a radiant smile, settling onto a couch standing next to both negotiators. "Word has reached me that you've decided to protest the terms of your kin's release?"
It seemed saliva was beginning to drip from the Bothan's mouth. And what was that treacherous sound coming from beneath him?
"No, Madam Director," he stammered in reply. "I only said that the Grand Moff is drinking my people's blood, draining our last strength..."
"And I'm also stealing the soup from your bowls," Isard smiled. "Such is the state of affairs in the galaxy, dear Counselor. You'll have to get used to it and continue living by the rules we have set."
Fey'lya resumed damaging the chair's upholstery.
"Yes," he whispered, struggling to form the words. "We'll do whatever is necessary..."
"Splendid," Ysanne looked at the Grand Moff. "As I understand it, the Bothawui side has fulfilled its part of the obligations?"
"If the reports are to be believed," Felix pointed to the datapad, "then yes. We'll check the construction droids and then draw meaningful conclusions about the Bothans' cleanliness. If they try to deceive us, the airlocks will be opened on the ships carrying the Counselor's kin. A lovely fluffy decompression."
"I have a concept of honor, Grand Moff!" Fey'lya snarled, baring his fangs. "Unlike some others present here."
"I'm glad to hear it," Ysanne Isard remarked. "I hope you truly live up to what you profess. Because otherwise, your words about so-called honor will be conveyed to the Provisional Government of the New Republic. And all your dirty dealings will be exposed. Have I made myself clear?"
The Bothan flinched, still bristling his fur.
"Yes, Madam Director," he said obsequiously. "L-let's begin the procedure for accepting and transferring the prisoners and cargo?"
"First," Ysanne smiled good-naturedly, "we'll proceed to another office. I don't want to study documents while smelling Bothan blood."
After those words, and until the moment all three meeting participants left the office, Borsk Fey'lya didn't even glance at the bodies of his slain bodyguards.
But the hidden holocamera captured everything perfectly.
* * *
The Quelli sector was far behind, and the Chimaera was racking up parsec after parsec, crossing the galaxy, approaching the coveted destination.
It wouldn't be long before the white-blue streaks would again contract into tiny specks of distant stars. And we would again find ourselves in realspace.
And there would be another battle.
But right now, I was more interested in my conversation with Grand Moff Felix, who was reporting after completing another — the second — exchange of Bothan prisoners for the technology we needed.
"So the Counselor figured out that Captain Hoffner is operating under the cover of Bothan front companies?" I clarified.
"At least he claims so, sir," Felix said calmly. "In his speech, he mentioned defensive and offensive technologies."
An interesting choice of words.
Usually Bothans act less generally when accusing others.
"Without the slightest specifics, correct?"
"Generalizations," Felix confirmed. "Isard's intervention interrupted his impassioned speech about the risks that could follow when all this becomes known to the general public."
An amusing double game.
When it became clear that they had been duped and thoroughly drained of funds, the question of prestige again loomed over Bothawui. Counselor Fey'lya, as expected, again contacted Isard's double.
And proposed an exchange of Bothan prisoners for... Well, we were the ones who set the release terms that time.
And how well we managed that is what we need to find out now, before we get involved in another battle.
And the conversation will be about more than just the Bothans. But I'll start with them.
"How many construction droids did we receive?" I inquired.
"At the moment — four hundred civilian industrial droids of the I-C2 series," the Grand Moff replied. "An equivalent number for several other droid models from the company. More than half of the total are new, straight from the stockpiles of Veril Line Systems. The rest were acquired in acceptable condition, but used. Wear is minimal, no structural defects were found, and the quantity of spare parts for them is adequate, as it is for all other goods acquired through the campaign."
Veril Line Systems was a well-known company whose specialized product line was droids intended primarily for industry. Construction and labor droids were very popular.
Despite the fact that their main office was located on Coruscant, they never produced any military products, which allowed them to maintain good relations with the various governments that had occupied the capital world.
The company's workers also manufactured EG-series power droids, fourth and sixth models, which were used to supply energy to various devices and technical objects.
But the company gained its greatest fame after releasing construction droids to the market.
The Dominion needed a large number of such droids because we had a significant number of planets where we needed to build industrial, scientific, and civilian facilities to house the infrastructure acquired in various parts of the galaxy and to provide housing for the future new citizens of the state arriving from other parts of the galaxy.
The I-C2 civilian industrial droids were construction droids reaching ten meters in height and thirty meters in length. They were built in a box-like form and moved using heavy tracked wheels.
I-C2 Civilian Industrial Droid.
Equipped with everything needed for processing resources into construction modules and blocks, they were more compact than their EVS-series predecessors. But while being smaller in size and cost, they possessed more complex programming, greater independence, and better situational assessment capabilities. Despite their expense, due to their compactness and advancement, these machines enjoyed a certain demand, but mainly for the reconstruction of megacities or large construction areas.
Ecumenopolises like Coruscant used EVS droids for redevelopment — the previous generation of construction droids. These machines, the height of skyscrapers, moving on two enormous supports, were, without exaggeration, factories that demolished, processed, or recycled everything marked for demolition. There were thousands of such machines on Coruscant, and Rogue Squadron had used one of them to capture the planetary shield control center two and a half years ago.
Due to their obsolescence, EVS units were not a priority acquisition for the Dominion. A few such giants existed on Ciutric IV, and on Axila their number reached hundreds, if not thousands. However, these walking factories were completely unsuitable for building anything new on planets that had no cities in the past. Their purpose was to work within existing development, because on loose ground like that, they would simply sink under their own weight.
"Counselor Fey'lya has provided us with the information we requested?" I inquired.
"Yes, sir," the Grand Moff replied. "The names of all Star Destroyers and other ships that were in any way subordinate to Isard during her rule over Coruscant have been identified. We managed to cross-reference the data on the fate of each vessel, with a few exceptions. For instance, the Victory-class Star Destroyers — the Emperor and the Emperor's Will — received some order from Isard and left her fleet shortly before the Rebel Alliance captured the Imperial Center several years ago."
So, the Iceheart has at least two such Star Destroyers at her disposal, which can serve as bases for TIE Defenders. What Colonel Molo Himron suspected before her death is beginning to clarify with confidence.
All that remains is to find out exactly where those ships might be at this moment and where, and with what mission, Isard sent them.
But these are not words for the Grand Moff's ears.
For now, I need something entirely different from him.
"I take it you've also met Captain Hoffner?" I clarified.
"Immediately after I saw off the Bothans, having confirmed that their prisoners had departed and that all tracking devices left on the construction droids and bulk freighters we received had been found and disabled," Felix stated. "What should I do with the 'beacons'?"
"Collect them and place them on one of the old ships from the transport fleet," I ordered. "Send the vessel, under droid control, to an uninhabited system, having first loaded it with baradium. As soon as the Bothans decide to board the ship, the droids are to initiate an explosion. Take measures to ensure everything goes as planned."
Which means — the Bothans must not learn of the trap until it is too late for their scouts.
A small revenge for the "furry brothers." The sooner they realize they won't be able to play by their own rules with the Dominion, the better for them.
"What cargo have we actually received from Captain Hoffner so far?" I inquired.
"Three hundred ISD-72x deflector shield generators," the Grand Moff replied readily. So, our need for such technology is met. Installed in pairs on Imperial-class Star Destroyers, the ISD-72x, while consuming enormous amounts of energy, were not just projectors. Imperial shipbuilders had essentially transferred all sensor equipment antennas onto them, not to mention the hyperspace communication transmitters and long-range scanners hidden inside the 'sensor globe.' Without such equipment, a Star Destroyer became blind, deaf, and fought solely within the direct line of sight of its gunners, which is an outright failure.
ISD-72x.
"Ion cannons?" I clarified.
The Moff sniffed.
"Captain Hoffner showed reasonable initiative," Ferrus stated. "He did not acquire the stipulated quantity of V-150 ion cannons."
"Is that so," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Is there a reasonable explanation for this?"
"According to him, yes," the Grand Moff nodded. "He acquired V-180 type ion cannons. They began production a few years before the Battle of Yavin. Nearly twice as powerful as their predecessor, the V-150, but also three times the price. According to Captain Hoffner, it turned out that almost all V-150s on Kuat had been bought up — he managed to get only one hundred and fifty, instead of the planned five hundred. He fell for a simple ploy by Kuat's managers — they transferred all the V-180s they had, almost five hundred units."
In other words, Captain Hoffner spent a total of two billion on ion cannons.
"Of course, we received twenty-two Model XI Supertransports to carry this equipment, new and at a significant discount," the Grand Moff hastened to add. "Hoffner was deceived there too, of course — the ships are from preservation; evidently, our military actions are forcing Kuat to sell off surplus that would have been sent for scrap in a few years."
This "gift" is hard to see as economically beneficial.
Knowing of the V-180's existence, I still preferred the V-150. Not only because they are cheaper and easier to maintain, but also because we already have an idea of how and where to use them, not to mention that after the planned purchase we should have had several times more of them, which would have covered all possible needs — both for planetary defense and for the "Solar Burn" project.
From this, only one conclusion can be drawn: the Dominion's planetary defense system will have to be revised. And all because of one extremely proactive individual whose actions have already caused us not only economic but also strategic damage.
Well, it turns out the saying, "There's no worse fool than a fool with initiative," holds true in this galaxy too.
But for what happened, I should blame myself first.
Because sending someone on such an important...
"Well..." I said. "One can only praise the Kuat Drive Yards company after this incident."
"Praise, sir?" Felix tensed up.
"They have masters of their trade working there," I explained my thought. "Merchants who didn't miss their chance. But I take it this isn't the only success for that company's employees, is it?"
"No, sir," the Grand Moff nodded restrainedly. "Captain Hoffner purchased a hundred W-165 planetary turbolasers..."
Planetary Turbolaser W-165.
."..instead of the M-68 magnetic pulse cannons?" I clarified with Grand Moff Ferrus.
The latter was developed for engaging space targets, but found its greatest use in ground battles, massively disabling enemy equipment.
"Yes, sir," he replied.
"And how much did that cost us?" I inquired.
"Nine hundred million," Felix explained sheepishly. "They gave a discount of a hundred million..."
Substantial. Especially considering that this type of weapon was what we intended to demand from the Bothans in exchange for the next batch of prisoners.
The W-165 was powerful enough to blast an Imperial-class Star Destroyer to pieces with a continuous salvo. The power required for a single shot from this cannon could be compared to supplying energy to an entire city for an extended period.
It could be placed on almost any surface, including snow, ice, mountainous terrain, and so on. Even on water, thanks to the necessary equipment.
Protected by four meters of armor and deflector screens, this emplacement was serviced by only fifty sentient beings, including security troops.
This turbolaser could effectively target enemies using long-range sensors located on the platform. Additional targeting information was provided by sensors on orbital satellites. This sensor data could then be fed into a global computational network, which, in turn, could provide launch vectors for additional turbolasers, ensuring a fast and effective planetary defense. Rotating gears were used to aim the turbolaser, constantly adjusted to ensure high accuracy, allowing the barrel to rotate three hundred and sixty degrees and the turret to traverse a full one-hundred-and-eighty-degree arc.
While absorbing an enormous amount of energy, the turbolaser had a heat dissipation system to avoid overheating or explosion.
However, unlike ion cannons, the planetary turbolaser is not rapid-fire — it requires a long time to recharge. Targeting is also slow — due to the large size of the base plate and the under-turret compartment.
This meant that a hundred or more W-165s needed to be installed on a planet for full coverage, which, at a cost of 10 million credits each, was an expensive proposition. Nevertheless, it was a price many planets were more than willing to pay to ensure the safety of their populations, and many worlds had an extensive network of planetary turbolasers, ion cannons, and planetary shields for protection against bombardment.
I did not consider this technology a priority due to its incredibly high cost, and also because, unlike ion cannons, it leaves no trophies.
Its optimal firing distance is just over a thousand kilometers, four times less than that of the V-150. But, like the latter, at maximum range, the planetary turbolaser is ineffective. However, the mentioned cannon has a maximum range of eleven thousand kilometers, while the planetary turbolaser has just over nine.
The previous generation ion cannon cost more, but we have already refined its mechanisms and tactical application to perfection. The planetary turbolaser is... Well, you can't return it to the "shop," but something can be figured out.
"I trust Captain Hoffner did not display any undue initiative in the procurement of planetary shield projectors, orbital defense platforms, and other equipment?" I inquired.
"In that part, the instructions were carried out impeccably," Grand Moff Ferrus smirked.
Well, at least something went as planned.
"Begin organizing the defense of the planets," I stated.
"In accordance with the plan?" the Grand Moff clarified.
Good, he understands the change in circumstances.
It confirms his intelligence and sound judgment once again.
"The sector perimeters, yes," I clarified. "In accordance with the plan. The planetary defense plans will have to be revised. By my return, prepare the changes, as well as a cost estimate to make up for the missing elements."
"It will be done, Grand Admiral," the Grand Moff stated. "What are your orders regarding Captain Hoffner?"
A good question...
"Have Lieutenant Colonel Astarion's people conduct an investigation," I ordered. "We need to understand what exactly motivated him to violate orders."
The Grand Moff nodded affirmatively.
"Have you already given the order to construct the workshops to house the reverse-engineering production for the engine, weaponry, scanning, and defense technologies we need, as used on the Imperial and Executor classes?" I inquired.
"Yes, sir," the Grand Moff replied. "By the end of this month, all the complexes will be operational. Construction of facilities is also underway, based on intelligence data regarding the production complexes on Hypori that interest you."
So, everything is more or less proceeding according to plan.
Almost.
"Send delegations to the Nidjun and Quelli sectors," I ordered. "In recent days, the Dominion Regular Fleet has driven out opponents from them. There is preliminary consent from the governments and elites of some planets to join the Dominion."
A shadow passed over the Grand Moff's holographic face.
"Should defense plans for these sectors also be developed?" he clarified.
"Indispensably," I agreed.
"Should everything be ready by your return to the Dominion?" Ferrus inquired in a resigned tone.
"Precisely," I confirmed.
The man closed his eyes, sighing heavily.
"I will need a significant amount of time, sir," he said. "These are vast territories that need to be crossed... I cannot visit each one in a couple of weeks."
"You can, Grand Moff," I assured him. "One of the clone-creator cruisers will be arriving at Ciutric IV shortly. A sufficient number of your own clones will be placed at your disposal. I am sure they will be able to replace you on secondary fronts."
The surprise on the man's face was so evident that I nearly laughed.
Did he really think the concept of "Clone the best specialists" would bypass him?
I might have been happy about it, but I have a distinct problem with Moffs.
* * *
The gravity trawls worked in standard mode, and the ships emerged from hyperspace, blind and defenseless.
The very ships that, at a point in the middle of the Corellian Trade Route at the appointed hour, were awaited by an operational-tactical formation led by a Victory-class Star Destroyer.
And this formation belonged not to those whom the Republic military would have wanted to meet.
"Begin jamming," the ship's commander ordered.
"Communication channels are jammed, sir!"
Captain I-Gor coldly watched as the enemy launched their vaunted "X-wings" from their hangars, the ships that had made the Incom Corporation famous through the numerous defeats the Rebel Alliance and the New Republic had inflicted on the Empire over the past decades.
The captain of the Crusader was completely indifferent to the harm the rebels caused the Galactic Empire.
To be honest, he didn't care at all about what was happening to the Empire or how it was suffering.
He had his own scores to settle with the New Republic's military personnel.
Along with them came the carte blanche given by Grand Admiral Thrawn during their conversation after the battle at the Hast shipyards.
"Signal Dragon-Two," I-Gor said quietly. "Fire main battery when ready. Target the enemy's large ships. Pilots, begin hunting enemy starfighters."
"Aye, sir," the watch officer responded.
No one asked questions like, "Shall we take prisoners?" or "Offer them to surrender?"
They did at first.
Not anymore.
Because it's a stupid question.
One he answered immediately after the Crusader engaged its first target after Hast.
The Crusader takes no prisoners. This Victory-class operates purely for destruction.
Exactly until Captain I-Gor himself decides that the payment for his son's death has been taken in full.
The very first shot from the Dragon-Two — one of the Venator-class Star Destroyers, equipped with a V-150 ion cannon — struck the lead vessel of the New Republic convoy.
It turned out to be a classmate of the Crusader — a Victory-class Star Destroyer named the Devoted.
That was the name it was listed under in the Imperial Navy archives.
What they called it in the Joint High Command of the New Republic Defense Forces, I-Gor couldn't care less about.
The enemy Victory tried to strike back, launching anti-ship missiles immediately after the first ion cannon shot stripped away the ship's deflector shield and partially struck the Star Destroyer's systems.
A waste of ammunition — I-Gor kept his ship at a distance of seventy-six units from the point where the enemy convoy's wake vector was interrupted for a reason.
The latter had arrived exactly at the time specified by Dominion Intelligence. They've learned to work, it seems.
The Dragon-Two's next target, after the second ion cannon shot crippled the enemy Victory, was a CR-75 medium transport. One shot was enough to turn the freighter into a drifting hull, becoming a death trap for its own crew.
The third target was a Sullustan Brail-type dry cargo carrier.
During the time it took the Venator's crew to reload between shot series — which was just ten seconds, instead of the thirty that Grand Admiral Thrawn had carefully demonstrated to the New Republic at Soulex, misleading the enemy — the enemy starfighters clashed with the Crusader's interceptors. The latter were supported by TIE fighters from the Venator, as well as six DP-20 Corellian gunships, whose missile and cannon fire reduced the numbers of that criminal tumor that had infected the galaxy.
No sluggish Dreadnoughts in the raiding formations against enemy convoys.
Only swift ships, ready for rapid changes in the battlefield situation.
Perhaps the admirals and generals of the New Republic received information about the standard Dominion raiding patterns. Grand Admiral Thrawn did not rule out such a possibility, thanks to the self-sacrifice of Admiral Ackbar.
But at the same time, the head of the Dominion had developed a much more effective tactic, which the Crusader was about to test.
Why use unwieldy heavy cruisers from the Katana fleet when you can use more maneuverable forces? And besides — ones that are much better armed.
Why fear that the enemy will redirect all power to shields, making energy weapons unable to damage them?
Why all that, when you can send a much more modest force on a raid for starships? Two Star Destroyers, several transports loaded with all necessities, plus screening and escort ships.
Captain I-Gor stood on the bridge of his ship, mentally composing his report for the commander-in-chief. The new tactic was proving itself quite well.
The Dragon-Two continued to blast the New Republic freighters, which had bunched up into a disorderly herd.
I-Gor watched as any attempt to flee was cut short by ion cannon fire before the enemy vessels even had the slightest chance to escape the gravity trap's vector.
"Sir, ship detected," the watch officer warned him. "Approaching us on course three-seven-seven."
"Signal Dragon-Two," I-Gor ordered. "Ignore other targets."
"Aye!"
When the head of the convoy was immobilized, the trailing vessel — the main target of this operation — finally deigned to emerge from behind the backs of the weaker ships.
And now, at tremendous speed, at the limit of its main engines, the more than one-and-a-half-kilometer-long gray triangle of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer finally appeared.
The commander of the Crusader did not even intend to guess at the thoughts of the commander of this once-formidable starship, disarmed and turned into useless junk, armed only with its point-defense cannons.
The New Republic, in its perverted sense of necessity, had turned a formidable warship into something more resembling a neutered nexu.
It looks formidable, but in reality, all it can do is click its claws aggressively.
"Distance seventy units!" the watch officer reported.
It was already visible anyway — turbolaser shells from the enemy Star Destroyer began to scatter against the Crusader's deflector.
Intelligence had indeed done a splendid job.
They had precisely determined that this convoy would include a neutered New Republic Star Destroyer.
It once bore the name Pulsar. The Alliance to Restore the Republic captured it a little less than five years ago during the Battle of Endor.
The crew managed to escape and is now serving somewhere in Imperial Space.
And the starship...
There is no greater insult for a warship than to become a laughingstock, turned into a dry cargo carrier.
"Dragon-Two reports readiness to fire," the watch officer reported.
"Fire," I-Gor said calmly.
He watched as, at five-second intervals, the Planet Defender aboard the Venator struck first the shields and then the hull of the disgraced Star Destroyer.
Lights along the hull and superstructure flickered and went out.
The bluish glow of the engines also disappeared.
But the Star Destroyer continued to move by inertia, unable to stop.
"Prepare tractor beams," I-Gor ordered. "Helm — begin moving towards our prize. Capture on opposing course."
This maneuver meant that the Crusader, moving towards the former Pulsar, would capture it with invisible beams and bleed off the speed of the disabled destroyer, continuing in the direction opposite to the current course of the prize.
"Signal our transports," I-Gor moved on to the next phase of the task after the capture was made and the Crusader shuddered noticeably. "Tell them to activate the B-1. Have the executive officer calculate the time needed for the crew aboard each captured vessel to suffocate. After that, land the assault troops — stormtroopers and droidekas — to clear them out."
"Does that also apply to the Pulsar, sir?" the watch officer clarified.
"No," I-Gor shook his head. "Only droidekas. Have them destroy all life there."
Minutes later, assault shuttles began docking with the hull of the decelerating Star Destroyer. And as soon as the emergency airlocks were opened, ruthless death in the form of droidekas flooded inside.
* * *
When she reached the command headquarters, General Rieekan and General Iblis were already standing at the tactical holoprojector, their heads tilted back.
Both seemed to be hypnotizing the hologram of Coruscant and every marker of the warships arranged in a thin ribbon along the planet's equator.
Hundreds of smaller points — starfighters destined for one of the most dangerous missions they had ever faced.
Below the planetary shield's boundary sat the bulbous transports.
All that the Provisional Government had been able to requisition for state needs from the population and from its own reserves on Coruscant.
The task of the warships was to fire at the asteroids, which, ideally, should begin to burn up in Coruscant's atmosphere (if any indeed remained). Fast fighters and armed flyers would help where the ships could not reach.
And the transports, piloted by droid pilots from the civilian aviation pool, were, in the absence of other options, to take the asteroid impacts on their hulls.
"Princess," General Rieekan greeted her formally.
Leia responded with a slight nod.
"Is everything ready?" she inquired.
"The fleet awaits the command," Bel Iblis stated.
"The garrison and air defense forces are ready too," Rieekan responded.
Leia glanced at the hologram.
If only it would work, if only it would work...
Mon Mothma, with her somewhat frayed nerves, had entrusted Leia with overseeing the operation and directing it.
She had agreed to it, but only after evacuating the children, Winter, and their security to the most protected bunker on the planet.
Han, despite his desire to be present, commanded a squadron in the northern hemisphere. Wedge — in the southern.
"Has the population been evacuated?" the Alderaanian asked just in case.
"Only those who believed us," Rieekan admitted bitterly.
"And that is...?"
"About sixty-five percent of the total population," Bel Iblis sighed. "Numbers that directly show how much the population of the capital trusts us."
"More than half," Leia noted reasonably. "We can't blame them... I think it's time to start."
"Begin," ordered Bel Iblis.
"Lower the shield," Rieekan ordered.
At that same instant, the film of the planetary shield vanished on the hologram.
"Ten seconds," Rieekan's voice rang out, nervously watching the chronometer. "No changes."
Leia stared wide-eyed at the viewscreen.
Starfighters and flyers patrolled the sky relentlessly, ready to launch an attack at any moment, but nothing happened.
She literally felt the tension hanging in the air with her skin.
The first chance to outmaneuver Thrawn and his plan...
"Twenty seconds," Rieekan whispered.
Again nothing.
Leia felt everything tighten inside her.
Around that time, the asteroids, if they were in low orbit or resting on the planetary shield's surface, should have entered the upper atmosphere...
And nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
"On the scanners?" Bel Iblis growled.
"Clean, sir!" reported the officer in charge of sensors. "Not the slightest..."
At that moment, one of the transports vanished on the hologram.
"What's happening?" Rieekan barked.
"They report that a freighter exploded!" one of the officers reported.
"Fleet — open fire on all vectors!" ordered Bel Iblis.
"Anti-air — counterfire with lead on our ships' course!" echoed Rieekan.
Leia clenched her fists so hard her nails dug into her palms.
If one ship was hit, it meant Karrde was wrong — there were far more than thirty-six invisible asteroids.
Which meant...
The floor seemed to come alive under her feet.
Leia cried out and lost her balance.
And she would have definitely fallen if not for Bel Iblis, who caught her.
"Impact near the Imperial Palace!"
"Impact in the Worker District!"
"Explosions on the Manarai Mountains!"
Reports poured in one after another.
Skyscrapers, transports, sometimes even flyers...
Two escort frigates literally snapped in half when invisible asteroids struck them.
Leia looked at the hologram, at the tiny dotted lines of the firing sectors of anti-air forces and fleet ships...
"Cease fire!" Bel Iblis and Rieekan shouted almost simultaneously.
Both understood it was a pointless exercise. If ground targets were being hit, it meant the asteroids had already descended so low that they had left the safe firing zones of the weapons.
There were more than thirty-six asteroids...
Leia forcibly suppressed the lump that formed in her throat and did not allow herself to break into sobs.
Instead, she rushed to the exit of the command center.
It was unknown where she found the strength and how she managed to develop such speed, but she found herself on one of the small balconies of the first level of the Palace within ten seconds.
Right before her eyes, an invisible strike hit the just-restored Senate building.
Judging by what she observed, the asteroid was clearly smaller than those that had caused so much trouble, but the consequences...
The mushroom-shaped roof of the Senate building was smoking and showed off a huge hole through which some corvette could easily fly.
Flames were already catching, and the wail of emergency service sirens filled her ears.
"He fooled us," she heard Bel Iblis's voice, full of bitterness and anger.
Leia, unable to hold back any longer, burst into tears when an oblique strike from an invisible weapon, and the subsequent detonation, literally sheared off the top third of the building at 500 Republic Street.
The building where their apartment was.
The debris rained down like a deadly shower, destroying vehicles, collapsing neighboring buildings...
A few seconds later, a paired strike crushed the building and the one next to it, leveling them to the ground.
And then more and more...
"Fire rain," whispered Bel Iblis. "Thrawn dropped small asteroids... One meter, two, five, ten... He showed us a forty-meter rock and made us think they were all that size."
Through her tears, Leia watched as new and new fiery blossoms bloomed across the surface of Coruscant, marking the death of hundreds of thousands of sentients across the planet...
With a roar and crash, a transport starship slammed into the surface, its stern mangled and burning.
Immediately after, three invisible meteors struck the snowy peaks of the Manarai Mountains, partially vaporizing the white caps...
And then, for the first time in tens of thousands of years, an avalanche fell from the Manarai Mountains, destroying entire districts of the galactic capital.
The bombardment by invisible asteroids lasted only a few minutes, but that was enough for all of Coruscant to begin burning.