Nine years, ten months, and three days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or the forty-fourth year, tenth month, and third day after the Great Resynchronization.
(Five months and twenty-third day since the Arrival.)
"I don't think there's any point in saying that Thrawn has outplayed us again," General Bel Iblis said, opening the emergency session of the Provisional Government. "One of the two search parties sent to Wild Space to locate the location of Thrawn's group that withdrew from Mustafar was defeated and captured by him."
"Brilliant," Councilor Fey'lya snorted. "The moment I leave for my homeworld, you allow inexcusable miscalculations in the fight against this insolent Imperial!"
"It's not for you to tell those present how difficult it is to oppose Grand Admiral Thrawn," General Madine stated. "No military commander of the New Republic can yet boast of having defeated the ruler of the Dominion."
Mon Mothma diplomatically tapped her gavel on the wooden stand:
"I ask those present to observe the rules of decorum," she said, glaring at the three speakers.
Leia Organa-Solo sighed sadly.
It seemed the session was turning into a squabble again.
All according to the rules of Bothan politics...
"This information broker, Talon Karrde," Councilor Fey'lya said contemptuously, "how many times has it happened that contacting him has led to our defeat?"
"Karrde's actions have nothing to do with Coruscant suffering an asteroid strike," Bel Iblis stated. "He informed us of the large asteroids he observed at the Yaga Minor shipyards. His information matched what we received based on our fleet's attacks in the Coruscant system, the orbital mirror, and so on. The fact that we dropped the shield all at once, without considering that Thrawn has the financial resources to also implement smaller asteroids, is entirely our problem."
"I wonder if there will be punishment," Fey'lya remarked caustically.
The Corellian flinched.
"I don't shirk responsibility for what happened," he declared, looking at Mon Mothma.
"We all understand perfectly well that war doesn't come without losses," Leia said diplomatically, trying to support her acquaintance. "The government also bears responsibility for not forcibly evacuating the civilian population. There isn't anyone among us who hasn't made mistakes."
"I don't think we need to keep beating our breasts over this," General Madine noted. "We need to move forward."
"Agreed," Mon Mothma said. "General Iblis, how bad are our Mustafarian prizes?"
"'Death's Head,' unlike the others, has a strong hull structure," the Corellian stated. "The remaining ships, except for the strike cruisers, were clearly not assembled at Kuat Drive Yards or under their licenses. The Sluissi have already begun reworking critical points on the vessels. Everything should be fine in two to three weeks."
"About the same time frame for the Lusankya to be commissioned," Mon Mothma recalled.
"I'll try to use it sooner," Bel Iblis unexpectedly said. "Our reconnaissance vessels have detected movement of several Imperial combat units near Lianna. There's a suspicion the enemy knows our intentions. In that case, the right move would be to attack earlier than the planned schedule."
"When?" Fey'lya perked up.
Leia and Bel Iblis exchanged glances.
"The exact date hasn't been determined yet," the Corellian stated.
Leia tried to keep her face impassive.
Actually, she, Han, and Garm had discussed a rough date for the attack on Thrawn's associate.
But for some reason, the Corellian had decided to keep it a secret.
"But you're already starting to pull ships toward the strike point," the shrewd Bothan narrowed his eyes. "You're not telling us something..."
"A commander-in-chief shouldn't have to disclose details of planned operations to anyone in principle," Madine noted. "He only informs us of the final outcome of his strategy. Given that we still haven't identified the source of the information leak, keeping this information secret is the best option."
"Is that so," the Bothan slowly looked at each of the present councilors. "An interesting game you've started, councilors," the fur on his hide rippled. "But you forget that two can play it."
* * *
The return to the Dominion wasn't pompous or even ceremoniously arranged.
There was no time for that now.
Combat participants don't need to be honored every five minutes, especially in that tiresome space.
That's what their shore leave is for — three standard days, two of which have already passed. Judging by how long the local restaurants have been closed "for special maintenance," Ciutric IV and its population are clearly coping with the recreational needs of the fleet specialists returning from battle.
Funnily enough, the military commandant's office is even somewhat upset that the guardhouses are empty...
I stood before a huge panoramic window, looking through a small section of clear glass at the sun rising from beyond the horizon.
"Four thousand officials..." I repeated.
"Four thousand sixteen, sir," Grand Moff Ferrus corrected me. "That's exactly how many corrupt officials there were in the bureaucratic system of the Ciutric Hegemony."
"Two-thirds of the active bureaucracy," I noted. "Investigations ongoing?"
"Yes, sir," the Grand Moff confirmed. "Show trials, asset seizure, confiscations, labor camps... Part of the stolen funds have been recovered; for the rest, we're confiscating the property of the convicted and their families and associates in favor of the state. The latter — when a direct link between the Hegemony's embezzled reserves and the acquisitions is established. Strangely enough, such repressions resonate with the common population of both the Hegemony and the entire Dominion."
"Not repressions," I stated. "Delayed retribution. Do you have sufficient staff to prevent the bureaucratic apparatus from collapsing?"
"Of course, sir," Ferrus replied. "Otherwise, there would have been no point in starting."
"Do the newly acquired territories raise concerns in any regard?" I inquired.
"Strangely enough, no, sir," Felix stated. "The local inhabitants have long lived under conditions of lawlessness or corruption. We're receiving a large number of requests from planets and settlements asking us to send our advisors to organize functional local self-government. Another positive trend is that the local population readily cooperates with law enforcement and reports the old regime's injustices. In other words, work is underway, control is established, and development prospects are in place."
"Is Moff Getelles still demanding a meeting with me?" The answer was already known to me, but I wanted to hear the perspective of the man who must maintain the full weight of the Dominion's internal policy and, in times of crisis, control the situation.
"Yes, sir," Felix replied, not hiding his disgust. "I had a brief word with him."
"And what was your impression of this man?" I inquired.
"Honestly, I felt like I needed a thorough wash, to scrape off my skin and replace it with synth-flesh after speaking with him," Ferrus said irritably. "Sir, I've seen many vile beings in my life. Ingratiating, cunning, deceitful, fussy, incompetent, persistent... But for all of that to exist in a single person, and elevated to an absolute? No, I've never encountered that..."
"Are you categorically opposed to dealing with this being?" I clarified.
"Yes, sir," Ferrus said firmly. "Honestly, I would suggest you strike at the Antimeridian sector and subjugate it to the Dominion."
"Is that so?" I clarified. "And what led you to that conclusion?"
"Tol Getelles is counting on us being attracted by the 'Loronar' Corporation shipyards located in the sector," Ferrus said.
"Manufacturers of the Strike-class medium cruiser and the Torpedo Sphere," I reminded myself.
"That's exactly what he's talking about, sir," Ferrus stated. "He's proposing we attack 'Loronar,' capture them, and bring them under his rule. In exchange, he's ready to become a full subject of the Dominion and bring the entire sector with him."
"Is that so," I smiled, turning away from the window. "And does Moff Getelles control the entire sector?"
"Sir, the Antimeridian sector is nothing more than a fragile confederation, held together by the fear of local governments toward the dozen destroyers Getelles possesses," the Grand Moff sighed. "He's a tyrant who parasitizes on what he has. Nothing more, nothing less. Back in the day, he thought he'd join us; then he shifted to courting the Prince-Admiral, even transferring ships from his fleet — medium cruisers — to him. Now he's ready to grovel again, just so we'll help him ride the milking bantha. Because 'Loronar' has enough forces and resources to repel his attack. And since they sell their products to almost everyone, they'll have plenty of allies if needed. Including the New Republic."
"When he first proposed supporting my campaign, I gathered information about this man through agents on Coruscant." Thank you, 'Delta Source,' for providing cover for my metaknowledge. And thank you, Chiss, for allowing me to restore the general order of things in small ways. "Despite Getelles receiving his rank through diplomatic successes, as you correctly noted, he is not particularly intelligent. Almost immediately after his appointment to the Antimeridian sector, Getelles promoted his friend over several other officers and gave him command of the armed forces in his territories."
"Yes, I also reviewed his history from the Dominion Intelligence archives," Ferrus admitted. "Colonel Astarion also filled in several 'blank spots.' Getelles is one of those who declared independence from the Empire after Endor, but after losing most of his fleet a few years later, he started currying favor with Orinda and Kaine, offering them his sector. If your campaign hadn't started, he would have clearly continued besieging the Imperial Ruling Council and eventually won their favor. Now he's of no interest to anyone, as he lacks both the firepower and the confidence to launch a major attack on nearby bases controlled by the New Republic. But with a dozen Star Destroyers, he could try, yet he prefers to defend. A waste of resources, sir. That's why I propose we attack to requisition the ships."
"That would be unwise, Grand Moff," I stated. "Consider the consequences of such a move. A tactical victory with a strategic defeat."
Ferrus thought for a while.
From his expression, it was clear the man was analyzing the information from all angles.
After five minutes, during which I enjoyed a mug of caf, the Grand Moff said:
"We get the destroyers, but at the same time — a reputation as those who attacked a man who wanted to be our ally."
"Dishonorable and immoral, don't you think?" I clarified.
"Politics has always been a place where the most refined waste products of sentient psyches accumulate," Ferrus noted diplomatically. "We're not angels from the moons of Iego..."
"Yes, but at the same time, we're engaged in eliminating direct threats to the Dominion," I smiled. "It will be very difficult for the New Republic to explain why they would try to condemn my punitive operations against the ×1 faction, Warlord Delurin, and Ennix Devian, not to mention the others. On Coruscant, if they've heard of them, it's not very much. None of them submitted a request to join the New Republic, as Prince-Admiral Krennel once did, so our opponents will look ridiculous and foolish if they try to play that card. But attacking Getelles after he's practically licking our boots — that's another side of politics. Such a fact could be used for propaganda purposes. The New Republic operates quite successfully in the information sphere, distorting facts. So far, we've managed to outplay them by inflicting actual problems and backing our propaganda with real actions. An attack on the Meridian sector would require an excessively weighty justification."
Which hasn't manifested itself yet.
But it surely will; it can't be otherwise.
"The Imperial Ruling Council might be displeased that you destroyed Imperial factions," Ferrus stated. Judging by his words, he had dismissed the idea of attacking Getelles. That was good. I didn't need it for now. But only for now.
"Orinda made the mistake of formally leaving me the right to call myself Supreme Commander of the Empire," I smiled. "This position allows me to eliminate threats to Imperial Space. And Devian and ×1 are undoubtedly threats. Delurin is an exemplary traitor who deserved his execution. Any attempts to condemn my actions will only lead to a loss of rating for the Council itself."
"At the same time, it allows us to strengthen our own positions," the Grand Moff stated, turning to his workstation.
He spent a few seconds finding the necessary data crystals on the desk.
"I've barely finished integrating the Nidjun, Sprizen, Venin, and Quelli sectors when new applications came in," he sighed. "Besides the Antimeridian sector, Agamar and the Lahara sector have expressed a desire to join the Dominion. From the local governments of the Korosi sector — the insectoid Proliferans and the humanoid Ephanians — requests have come in expressing a desire to join us."
"Only two races in the entire sector?" I was surprised.
Korosi was a small sector located, along with the Lahara sector, between Oplovis and Venin, which had been annexed not too long ago.
"The sector is unremarkable," Ferrus grimaced. "Only five known systems, but only two are inhabited — Prolifera and Ephan. They don't produce advanced technology themselves; they live in closed communities. There are no stable hyperlane routes there. The sector only became known to the galaxy through the capital system Korosi, where the Korosi phoenixes are born — magnificent creatures frequently kept by the wealthy as pets. Apart from that... the systems in the sector are lifeless. The Proliferans are decent ground fighters, using tunneling tactics against enemy positions. Essentially, they're large ants. The Ephanians are outright a peaceful race. Both species recently experienced a food shortage, which some non-governmental funds on Ciutric responded to by providing them with supplies. In return, ship crews delivered their message. Apparently, the locals are in a deep crisis to have turned to the Empire for help. Which isn't exactly popular..."
"In other words, the sector holds no interest for anyone?" I asked, intrigued.
"For absolutely no one, sir," the Grand Moff confirmed. "On the contrary, they would be a burden to the Dominion, as they would clearly become a subsidized region."
"That's what you think?" I smiled.
"Supporting them would require a large amount of food," Ferrus stated. "From an efficiency and logistics standpoint, it's a nightmare. Even the New Republic prefers to ignore them..."
"Therefore, we could place our stations in the uninhabited systems of the sector, possibly even a fleet base," I noted. "A secret facility, whose security would be fairly simple to maintain, wouldn't it?"
Felix smiled.
"Yes, sir," he agreed. "There is merit in that. But it would require significant expenditure for setup."
"And yet, in return, we would get an entire race asking only for food, which could provide us with labor battalions capable of working underground, digging tunnels, subterranean bases, and possibly mines?" I clarified. "Given Agamar's loyalty and the Dominion's food programs, is food production really a problem for us?"
"Honestly, I considered the Proliferans solely from a military utility standpoint," Ferrus admitted.
"Wrongly so," I noted. "Given the cloning cylinders and recruitment we have, we have plenty of people to fight — both on the front lines and within our territories. We should focus more on internal affairs, Grand Moff. Lahara and Korosi not only allow us to straighten our borders, but also let us establish control over several nearby regional hyperlane routes."
"I've already considered that point, sir," the Grand Moff said. "But there's also the Tragan cluster. Like Korosi, it lies between Oplovis and Venin. And it's part of an important hyperlane — the Celonian Spur — which connects Oplovis, Lahara with Quelli, and from there, to the entire Dominion. Control over this section of the Celonian Spur would allow us, in the event of a blockade, to halt up to half of the transport traffic heading into the Imperial Remnants like the Alignment and Space."
Tragan. Tragan... A familiar name.
"Shaum Hii is a former member of the New Republic," I recalled, pulling the data from the Delta Source. Not so long ago, a pair of senators had discussed the locals' desire for neutrality, to avoid falling victim to a Dominion raid.
The cluster was practically right next to Ciutric, after all...
But, as with Korosi, this was a lifeless sector — barely one system was inhabited, and the rest held no interest whatsoever. Even for us.
The locals of Shaum Hii posed no threat to us, so I had never even considered them as a target for attack.
There were no Republic military installations there; they didn't even have an army of their own. The world survived on its cattle markets and enjoyed considerable popularity among the population of this part of the galaxy.
"If the cluster joins us, the Dominion's metropolitan territory will total ten sectors," I noted.
In fact...
In just over half a year, I had managed to create a state comparable in size and power to the Imperial Remnant as it would be ten years from now...
"Baron D'Asta has expressed a desire to negotiate with you regarding the annexation of his sector into the Dominion as an autonomous territory," Grand Moff Ferrus added with a smile. "He intends to arrive on Ciutric IV within twenty-four hours for a personal meeting."
"That wasn't in the communiqué you sent," I noted.
A very reasonable move from Ragez's perspective — ally with the strong.
But utterly disastrous in terms of picking the right side in the conflict.
The Baron was practically declaring openly that he supported me, not the Imperial Ruling Council. Quite interesting, considering that during our conversation after Mustafar, he hadn't even hinted at anything of the sort.
Either his plans had changed, or something else had happened for him not to trust an encrypted comm line.
It was unlikely that a few assassination attempts on his life, thwarted by guards disguised as his bodyguards, had pushed him to this step.
I had a feeling this would be a very interesting conversation.
"Forgive me, I couldn't resist a surprise," Felix said, spreading his hands. "Before your return, my head was literally spinning from everything happening. At least a good hundred more systems and sectors have sent requests to establish diplomatic and trade relations. Mostly, these are territories that have seceded from the New Republic, but there are also a fair number of neutral systems and sectors, like Tammuz-an."
"Not bad," I assessed. "However, we mustn't forget that the Dominion's expansion was primarily aimed at the northern territories — the Meram, Korva, Mieru'kar, Bosph, and Kanz sectors..."
These Force-forsaken regions, even during the height of the Empire, were only nominally part of Palpatine's holdings.
And after Endor, they had turned into a hotbed of separatism, a haven for slavers and bandit gangs. Take on those, and no one would object.
For me, it was a chance to gain more territory with minimal effort, more planetoids with resources, and more opportunities to shorten the perimeter.
The plan envisioned the Dominion's defensive perimeter as a kind of horseshoe, where invisible asteroids and fortresses would protect the approaches to our borders from the south, east, and west of the galaxy, while the north would be conditionally shielded by the galaxy's edge.
There were powerful gravitational anomalies and black hole clusters there, which meant we didn't need to keep a large garrison.
At least, not in the near term.
By the time the Yuuzhan Vong arrived, the perimeter there would be formidable — just as the Dominion's borders would be ringed with impenetrable minefields parsecs deep.
"Reconnaissance has just finished gathering information, sir," Ferrus said, his expression darkening. "The Meram sector is divided among the remnants of the Cavrilhu pirates, Thalassian slavers, and over a hundred small bandit gangs holed up in every asteroid in the system. The situation is similar in the Mieru'kar sector. Our agents managed to find common ground with almost all the leaders of the civilian population. There's a basic agreement to join the Dominion, but... the populations on the planets aren't large. In fact, many species have emigrated from here..."
"Which doesn't absolve us of the responsibility to clear these frontiers," I noted. "I'm suspending our privateer and corsair raids for a while. Support forces will also assist you in this."
"Who else but the pirates themselves know where to find pirates?" Ferrus smiled.
"Otherwise, why would we have needed Kavil's Corsairs, the Wolf Packs, and the rest?" I inquired. "They are sufficiently trained to hunt their former business partners, so there will be no problems exterminating the criminals."
"You know best, Grand Admiral," Ferrus said diplomatically. "The Bosph sector shows the most notable progress. It's extremely remote from all possible routes. Despite the large mineral deposits in those worlds, the Empire limited them by funneling materials to the Corporate Sector. After the local Moff was driven out, that ceased to be the goal of the local mining enterprises. The 'Corpos' imposed something of a blockade on them, and the locals have neither the ships nor the means to hire them."
"They're ready to join the Dominion on the condition that we break the Corporate Sector's blockade?" I asked, intrigued.
"Precisely," Ferrus sighed. "Judging by the list of minerals coming from there, there's nothing extraordinary. We can mine the same materials and minerals practically under our noses. Furthermore, there are rumors that the 'Corpos' are building a fleet and an army..."
"Intelligence confirms that last fact," I assured him. "But not for themselves. The Zann Consortium is arming."
"In other words, we risk antagonizing the Bosph sector," Ferrus noted, stroking his chin. "The 'Corpos,' plus Zann's militants..."
"Don't trouble yourself," I suggested. "I'll handle the Bosph sector problem myself. Intelligence will deal with resolving the issues."
"As you command, sir."
"The Kanz and Korva sectors," I reminded him.
I could invent any number of reasons why these sectors interested me (especially Kanz), but only a few would be true.
In the Kanz sector, there were two points of interest: an asteroid that once housed the base of a Sith Lord who had learned to live without the emotional breakdowns inherent to the Dark Side of the Force.
Darth Vectivus was his Sith name.
But something else was far more important — that Sith had died, and quite a while ago.
And now there was a base there belonging to an interesting lady nicknamed Lumiya... Quite a thorn in one's side, honestly.
But besides Lumiya's base, there was something else important in this sector.
The Bimmiel system, which once housed a base for Yuuzhan Vong scouts. And samples of their biotechnologies remained there, perfect for testing the first prototypes of our biological weapons, based on the pollen of semi-sentient trees from the planet Ithor.
"Our agents don't foresee major problems with incorporating the sector into our territory," the Grand Moff stated. "A few slaver and pirate outposts can be suppressed fairly quickly. Otherwise, it's all fairly straightforward... Except that the infrastructure and population density in this sector, like most worlds of the Outer Rim, are sparse."
And they should be.
Because the Kanz sector lies on the vector of the Yuuzhan Vong invasion.
And it is this sector — due to its convenient astrographic position, low population density, and few hyperlane routes — that will become the fortified zone where Dominion forces will stop the invaders and keep them from penetrating deeper into the metropolis.
It will cost colossal resources and effort, but there's no other way.
Abandoning the Dominion to its fate is the worst possible idea.
Not using the situation to subjugate these territories, leaving them to local bandits and the New Republic, is also a terrible one.
If we let things slide, this region will be one of the first beachheads conquered by the Yuuzhan Vong in fifteen years.
And this is where they will begin reaping the first trillions of victims from this galaxy's population.
"Has the data on the Korva sector changed?" I asked, watching the Grand Moff's expression shift.
"No, sir," he said dryly, knowing an unpleasant conversation was unavoidable. "The same jumble of Republic, Imperial, and smuggler transponder codes. We've noted the movement of several large ship formations. Spy droids managed to identify at least one Imperial-class Star Destroyer and over twenty Strike-class cruisers. Their bases of operation are different, and there's no direct contact, so we assume they are various factions. Additionally, our sensors detected the movement of Republic military vessels — at least three squadrons of X-wings..."
"You needn't continue, Grand Moff," I stated. "The presence of enemy traces in the sector is sufficient justification for the regular fleet to get involved. Forward all available data on the Korva sector to the Chimaera — we will deal with this minor disturbance immediately."
"Consider it done, Grand Admiral," Felix assured me. "If I may, I have a proposal inspired by the rumors of what Ennix Devian did with that inhabited sphere."
"He turned it into a mobile headquarters with repair capabilities and a production base," I recalled Commodore Shohashi's report.
"As I understand it, the station is in a truly deplorable state?" the Grand Moff clarified.
After a series of internal explosions that nearly tore it apart, the inhabited sphere had endured many difficult hours while tens of thousands of people worked frantically to keep it from falling apart during the transit.
It didn't fall apart, of course, but more than half of its internals were now somewhere between the Ghost Nebula and the Dominion. What remained still needed repairs.
A very long time.
And very expensive.
"That's correct," I agreed.
"Sir, may I ask that you have all remaining industrial equipment stripped from that station and transferred to our orbital workshops and shipyards? It would allow us to..."
"It would allow you to increase your productivity and efficiency," I said, anticipating his words. "That order has already been given. The equipment packages will be delivered to the recipients shortly."
"Thank you, sir," Ferrus said warmly. "Having just a single industrial equipment complex was seriously hindering our efforts in rapidly repairing ships and putting them into service."
"Speaking of ships," I noted. "I think we should discuss a few more changes concerning the metropolitan defense fleets..."
* * *
Joshua silently placed a datapad in front of Lady Santhe, its screen filled with lines of reports.
Very many reports.
"What is this?" she asked without looking up from her own documents, the head of Santhe Technologies.
"The Republic has begun moving troops in our direction," Joshua said. "Scout ships, support vessels, a large number of escort carriers and carriers. They're all being recalled from their bases in small numbers, ostensibly for rotation and relocation."
"This could be a routine troop movement to patch the holes the Grand Admiral's actions have left in their armed forces," Lady Santhe noted. "I trust you already know that after the New Republic's ambiguous hints that Thrawn was destroyed at the Battle of Mustafar, he delivered a significant blow to their fleet somewhere on the borders of Wild Space."
"Yes," Joshua agreed. "I know that too. As well as the fact that, at best, we'll be sent no more than a dozen capital ships for help. That won't be enough to fight off even a half-rate fleet, and the New Republic has clearly sped up the repairs on the Lusankya. I suspect that starship's first battle will be a blatant operation against us..."
Lady Santhe paused her study of her own documents for a moment, looking off into the distance with concentration, as if trying to grasp an elusive thought...
"Prepare every piece of company hardware for battle," the woman said abruptly. "Begin preparing our specialists for a hypothetical attack."
Moff Victus felt a wave of disappointment.
And irritation at the same time.
"Ma'am," he said patiently, "our combat pilots and security forces are clearly insufficient. And hastily trained factory workers certainly won't be any competition for professional New Republic pilots. We urgently need to request help from the Empire."
A bitter smirk appeared on Lady Santhe's face.
"See how it turned out?" she asked. From her tone, it was clearly rhetorical. "I scared away all the Imperials, and those I buttered up with bribes are barely combat-ready, at best."
"We can always ask Grand Admiral Thrawn for help," Joshua stated. "I'm sure he won't refuse..."
"'Won't refuse,'" Lady Santhe's lips twisted into a contemptuous grin. But even through this seemingly cheerful gesture, a certain resignation was apparent. "Of course he won't refuse. I even spoke with him — a day ago. I've never been so humiliated."
"Thrawn humiliated you?" Moff Victus said, stunned.
No one had told him that.
If so, then of course, no one was going to be petty...
"Not directly, of course," Lady Santhe quickly dispelled his doubts. "It was more of a reputational humiliation..."
"I'm not sure I understand..."
"When we met him here," she tapped her fingers on the desk, "in this very office, Thrawn said words that were almost prophetic. About the New Republic's actions, about the Lusankya's involvement in all this, about the Republic fleet's invasion... It all happened. And even then, he offered to solve the problems in exchange for one orbital assembly workshop. I refused. And then he said I would come to him for help myself. But this time, he would take what he wanted. In whatever quantities he wanted. And yesterday, I heard his 'modest requirements.'"
"That information didn't reach me," Joshua lamented.
"Naturally," Lady Santhe snorted. "I ordered the fact of the negotiations to be kept secret and the comm session data to be erased. I don't need even my most loyal people knowing what kind of negotiations I'm conducting while a client's representative arrives for an inspection."
"So he asked for too much?" Joshua inquired.
"All three orbital assembly workshops," Lady Santhe said. "Access to all of the company's technical developments. Exclusive rights to produce the company's hardware without restrictions within the Dominion's borders and for its needs... What an insolent man!" Valles flashed.
"Thrawn doesn't miss a trick," Moff Victus agreed. "But perhaps we should meet him halfway... Give up a little to save the rest?"
"'A little,' you say," Valles repeated caustically. "And then wait until every Imperial Remnant attacks us to get what they want? How long before the Imperial Space sends a fleet to Lianna? Or the Pentastar Alignment? You're suggesting we wait until we lose our independence, which was won with such difficulty?"
"Lady Santhe, but we have no other choice," Joshua insisted. "We can threaten all we like that all of the company's resources will be used for defense if we're attacked, but..."
"Prepare the personnel, hire mercenaries, anyone, but under no circumstances should the New Republic or anyone else gain control of Lianna or our industrial capabilities."
Joshua opened his mouth to continue the argument, but met Lady Santhe's gaze. It brooked no compromise with the order she had given.
"As you wish," Victus conceded.
He left the head of the corporation's office in a state of turmoil.
It took only a few minutes to reach his own office.
The Moff walked through the spacious room and collapsed exhausted into his chair, staring at a single point.
Lady Santhe was a strong-willed woman, and convincing her of something was practically impossible.
"Judging by the expression on your face, Moff, Lady Santhe clearly disregarded your arguments," a voice rang out.
Its source — a tall, powerfully built man — stepped from the darkness of the far corner, revealing himself to the office's owner.
"As you predicted," Joshua nodded affirmatively.
"You do understand where this will lead?" the man asked, sitting down in the chair opposite.
"We will be crushed and then nationalized," Moff Victus said through gritted teeth.
"Are you willing to serve the New Republic?" the interlocutor asked with a smile.
"I was one of the founders of Lianna's independence," the Moff slammed his fist on the table. "I don't want all that effort to go to waste!"
"In that case," the man smiled, "I have a unique and extremely interesting proposal for you..."
* * *
"Overall conclusions?" I inquired. "Did someone manage to design a ship layout better than you?"
Shipwright Ryan Zion leaned slightly to the side so the slowly rotating hologram of the nineteen-kilometer giant between us wouldn't interfere with the conversation.
"I'll admit, the ship implements some very interesting technical solutions," the Shipwright said reluctantly. "Energy fields to block boarding forces, auto-turrets, turbolift deactivation, a decent automation system... Even though the ship was built from scrap metal, it's... given me something to think about and ways to improve my other projects."
"In other words, the In Amber Clad will never leave the fitting-out docks?" I asked curiously.
"Oh, no, no, no, of course it will," Zion objected hotly. "I don't intend to degrade this project by endlessly modernizing it. In my opinion, the most optimal upgrade systems should be used on flagship vessels, like the Guardian and... well, that second one."
"How much worse is the Executor built by the ×1 faction compared to the Guardian?" I clarified.
"Well, like all the wreck-built destroyers, this ship will need significant repair and rework," Zion grimaced. "The Guardian was effectively fifty percent repaired by the crew's efforts. During its time with us, readiness has been increased to ninety percent. But in light of the latest innovations, I would like to propose that we supplement the Guardian's equipment with them. I've reduced the necessary crew complement from two hundred and eighty-one thousand to one hundred and twenty..."
"Like on the Crimson Dawn," I noted.
"Precisely," Zion confirmed. "All the bulky redundant systems have been thrown to the hutt, internal spaces have been repurposed and reoriented. By automating systems and increasing usable space, I've installed not two hundred and fifty, but five hundred anti-fighter missile launchers, half of which are still anti-ship. I've also doubled the anti-fighter and anti-missile defenses. To the five hundred light rapid-fire cannons, I've added an equal number of beam anti-aircraft guns — our analogues of the guns mounted on the Consortium's Crusader II-class corvettes. I've left the main artillery the same, especially since fully equipping the ship required scraping together all our reserves — even those supplied by the raiders. The air wing has been expanded to thirty squadrons of TIE-series craft, and there's also the possibility of equipping a separate hangar for your own escort forces — but it can hold no more than a squadron and a few shuttles. I've kept the landing force at its previous size. However, the number of landing craft has been increased, and equipping units with droidekas is planned. I would also like to propose using Separatist Droch-class boarding ships for delivering boarding parties. They were designed specifically for this and are quite suitable for deploying droids. But," Zion averted his gaze, "to deliver these ships, we'll need a rapid-fire mass driver or a railgun..."
"I see MandalMotors' mass driver technology has piqued your interest," I observed.
"This kind of weapon can be used to deliver both projectiles and boarding troops onto an enemy ship or station," Zion explained. "The shortcomings of the cooling system can be offset by a low rate of fire — after all, with such armament, the Guardian is capable of punching through any defense with its artillery fire."
"Let's assume that," I agreed. "How long would it take to mount such a system, and how far would its range be?"
"In a vacuum?" Zion seemed surprised by the question. "Until it hits its target. The lack of friction and braking systems allows it to launch any object and..."
Now I understood why he had so easily fallen for the range trap.
In the context of kinetic weapons, asking about such a characteristic is generally pointless — once accelerated, the projectile will fly for a very long time. Of course, there would still be some deceleration — there are some particles in a vacuum.
But unlike laser, turbolaser, and other charges, which are subject to dispersion effects, kinetics would reach the target as a single piece. And deliver its payload.
But it wasn't for nothing that the Shipwright had chosen to ignore the first of my two questions.
"So, mounting this kind of weapon would take a long time," I concluded.
"It wouldn't take that long to install," Zion admitted. "The problem is that it needs to be built first. And for such a system, a lot of space inside the ship would need to be prepared, so... I'll need an additional two months."
"You have much more than that," I stunned the man.
The Shipwright looked at me suspiciously.
"Is that some kind of hint, sir?" he asked after a few seconds of silence.
"Yes," I said, not drawing out the suspense. "The Guardian should be ready for battle in a week. In the state it was planned without the mass driver. You can easily run your experiments on the second Super Star Destroyer. And you can also carry out a full repair at the same time."
"But that's at least six months of work!" Pain even appeared in Zion's artificial eye. "There's so much to redo..."
"You have enough workers to handle all ongoing projects," I declared. "If necessary, provide us with your best employees for cloning, and the number of personnel will be increased tenfold."
"Yes, sir," Zion sighed in resignation.
It seemed he really wanted to implement all his ideas on the Guardian, leaving the refit of the ×1 Super Star Destroyer to some other team of specialists.
"Have your technicians surveyed the habitable sphere that Commodore Shohashi delivered?" I inquired.
"Yes, sir," Zion grew sadder. "The idea of equipping a station of that diameter with ship repair yards, and full-cycle equipment at that... I think Ennix Devian didn't come up with that idea on his own. Judging by the residual compartments, the equipment, the nature of the work carried out, I'd say that this sphere was originally planned as just such an object. There's less amateurishness in the dock equipment than one might assume. And consequently, whoever built this project was clearly impressed by rumors that supposedly, inside the Death Star, Grand Moff Tarkin built a Super Star Destroyer for his friend so that it would best cover the construction site..."
Zion suddenly stopped. Then he looked at me.
"After all, the Guardian was part of the Oplovis sector fleet, wasn't it?" he asked.
"Exactly so," I nodded.
It was quite amusing to watch a man who had spent weeks examining this ship only now put the files together.
"And the planet Despair is located in quadrant L-5, the same place as..."
"That's right," I confirmed. "The Death Star was built near the Oplovis sector. Whether the Guardian was built inside that object or not interests me the least right now."
"Yes, I understand," Zion nodded. "But... it's actually a good idea — building stations, of course much smaller than the Death Star, equipping them with, say, several slipways, and also..."
"Stop, shipwright," I asked. "At the moment, restoring this object to its original state is a financial pit for us. The equipment from the 'habitable' sphere will be supplied to support other shipyards — specifically our orbital workshops. That's the most correct approach to using this object."
"But... then only the hull will remain," Zion said in bewilderment.
"And also the reactor and hyperdrive," I agreed. "You see, shipwright, in light of recent events, I'd like you to do the following..."
* * *
Vill Goir no longer remembered what was once his life before he swore allegiance to Emperor Palpatine.
He was considered the highest-ranking member of the Dark Side Elite after Executor Sedriss QL.
Thus, by the Emperor's will, he was the best of the seven elites who reported to the Executor.
The man had never been afraid to argue with the Executor and express his opinion, believing in the necessity of radical measures to achieve the goal set by his master.
And now, walking toward his fighter, the Deputy Executor was trying to understand the sensations in the Force that troubled him.
He had no doubt that Lady Santhe would indeed fulfill the order, whatever it was. Unlike the somewhat cowardly Moff Victus, the head of the corporation knew the client's real name perfectly well. And she wouldn't risk crossing him. Not even trying to somehow disrupt the schedule.
But at the same time, she was in doubt.
The New Republic was planning to attack Lianna, which could lead to the destruction of the small craft that the corporation produced for the fleet of the Resurrected Emperor.
Goir, just like Lady Santhe, shared the fear of the order being disrupted.
That was why he was hurrying back to the Executor's flagship — an Imperial-class Star Destroyer named the Invincible, to report the situation to his direct commander.
And he would pass on Santhe's concerns further to Agent Blackhole, and he, in turn, would bring it to the Emperor's attention.
The dark jedi grew irritated at every thought of how Executor Sedriss had so easily lost his position as the Emperor's right hand, giving it to someone no one had ever even seen.
And as a result, the Dark Side Elite had to carry out tasks that clearly did not match their own status.
A disgrace and a lesson for the future — the failure with General Solo and Grand Admiral Thrawn's victory at the Battle of Honoghr, Luke Skywalker's escape from the asteroid Polis Massa... it seemed Sedriss was devoting less and less time to invasion planning, having become obsessed with Grand Admiral Thrawn.
The Executor was literally obsessed with the idea that the filthy alien was playing a double game, and therefore dangerous and needed to be destroyed as soon as possible.
The height of stupidity.
Thrawn would be destroyed — because he is dangerous when not under control. And the Emperor no longer intends to control him.
We just need to hold out a little longer — and then the Elite can hunt down the Grand Admiral. So why worry now?
He is doing what he came to this known galaxy for — crushing the New Republic.
Even if he has any double plans, they can't be realized anyway.
He will be killed, no matter what thoughts anyone might have on the matter.
And after Thrawn's death and the elimination of the Skywalker family from the list of enemies, nothing will threaten the master's plans.
And yet, why was the Force so agitated?
Vill stopped a few meters from his fighter, carefully listening to the Dark Side.
The latter seemed to have become thicker than before... And that was certainly good, because it meant the Elite had more power...
But the aura of the Dark Side only strengthens when a source of that energy is nearby!
And he had gone to Lianna alone.
Sedriss was checking the execution of orders at Incom Corporation, Kvag Gthull had gone to the Emperor's secret treasure vault on the planet Wayland to check what other technological innovations Thrawn had used...
The use of cloaking fields to deliver an asteroid strike had certainly interested the Emperor.
Because cloaking devices have their drawbacks, especially the one that worked on hybidium. And the Emperor appreciated its use for bombarding planets. Now they needed to obtain the device and...
The Dark Side nearby flared with undisguised rage.
Vill did a backward somersault, activating his lightsaber in the process.
And, no sooner had he landed on his feet than his weapon barely blocked an overwhelming strike from a lightstaff.
With the same crimson blades.
Goir looked with surprise at the Zabrak standing before him, smiling triumphantly.
"Who are you?" Vill growled menacingly, breaking the block and stepping back, preparing to counterattack.
"Your death," the Zabrak declared promisingly.
He lunged forward, hitting Vill with a flurry of strikes that seemed to rain from all directions.
Shocked by this crude, bestial assault, the elite continued to retreat, rapidly analyzing his opponent's tactics.
Whoever this dark jedi was, he was prepared for a fast fight.
Therefore, he simply needed to exhaust him, weaken him, and then strike.
To start, he could aim for the legs, which the opponent wasn't even thinking of defending.
Vill smiled, easily and elegantly slipping through the opponent's guard, poking the tip of his blade into the right kneecap.
The lightsaber, which should have vaporized flesh, tendons, and bone, somehow got stuck in something...
The next second, Goir felt his opponent's suffocating grip on his neck.
He called upon the Force to free himself, but...
A searing pain shot through him as the opponent's crimson blade pierced his chest, vaporizing skin, flesh, bone, and heart.
"A parody of a Sith," Darth Maul spat on the cooling body and casually walked toward the opponent's fighter. "The old fool is so terrified of a repeat of Vader's feat that he takes half-trained failures into his service."
Taking a Sith prisoner, especially a fanatic of Palpatine's, was a hopeless endeavor. You could torture him for a long time...
It was much simpler to look into his personal ship and visit the places he had been before.
* * *
"Are you finished, Mr. Ghent?" I inquired, entering the room where the 'Slicer' was working.
"Huh?" The computer hacker flinched when he saw me in the doorway.
Following that, he tore off his headphones, staring at me with a frightened look.
"You had an assignment, Mr. Ghent," I reminded. "Data analysis."
"A-ah!" the Slicer waved his hand, clearly calming down. "The information retrieval protocols that Mara obtained?"
"Those very ones," I confirmed.
"A tricky system," the Slicer stated categorically. "The data goes through different communication channels, uses non-standard frequencies and..."
"Mr. Ghent," I noted patiently. "I don't have time to listen to technical details. I need an answer: yes or no."
"More yes than no," the Slicer said evasively. "I've cracked only three out of five data transmission channels..."
"Can you say for certain where and when the next data transmission will take place?" The appearance of Rukh before the Slicer's eyes made the latter a rather nervous man.
"Well, actually yes, I can," he said, watching tensely as my bodyguard toyed with his throwing knives. "There are three possible points."
"It was supposed to be one," I recalled.
"Sir, I'm not a Jedi, I speak based on technical information," the Slicer spread his hands, handing me an information crystal. "Without processing additional data transmission channels, I can't guarantee that a particular relay will be responsible for the data transfer."
"How long will you need to give a more precise answer?" I inquired.
"Two or three weeks," the Slicer shrugged. "If they use exactly these channels, that is, so..."
"Thank you," I nodded. "Return to work on the relays captured from the New Republic. In two weeks, they should ensure reliable and timely data transmission on specific sections of the hyperspace routes."
"I'm trying my best," Mr. Ghent stated.
"I understand that, but the work needs to be accelerated," I repeated. "The entire defensive system of the Dominion depends on this project."
"Wow!" The young man's eyes went round. "Well, I'll, uh, accelerate the work then..."
"But not at the expense of quality," I reminded.
"Of course," the young man nodded vigorously, putting his headphones back on and diving into the virtual world.
As I exited the analytical and encryption department of the fleet headquarters, I noticed Major Tierce running toward me almost at a skip.
I immediately got a bad feeling.
What could have happened that an elite guardsman, my adjutant, was running to his destination instead of moving at a measured pace?
Rukh, who was to my right, also tensed noticeably.
A couple of seconds later, the guardsman stopped in front of me.
"Urgent information, sir," he said, breathing heavily.
No need to ask why he hadn't used a comlink — in the encryption department, such equipment is permanently jammed.
"Report," I ordered, understanding that Tierce would never allow himself to distract me over trivialities.
"A diplomatic ship en route to Ciutric IV has been destroyed in the Vinsoth system," the man said in a quick patter.
A fraction of a second was all I needed to understand who could have been there that day and why.
"Inform Captain Pellaeon — we are preparing to depart," I ordered. "Send the nearest reconnaissance ships to the system. Ignore Vinsoth's neutrality. Before my destroyers get there, I want to know who destroyed Baron D'Asta and under what circumstances."