Nine years, ten months, and five days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or forty-four years, ten months, and five days after the Great Resynchronization.
(Five months and twenty-five days since the Arrival.)
The morning on Etti IV, the capital of the Corporate Sector, began without any circumstances that could spoil it.
Numerous trade branches were opening, streets were coming alive, and the air currents filled with the low hum of swift aircars, speeders, and other types of transport.
The armored speeder of the Corporate Sector Government's advisor for military-industrial affairs, sometimes called "the sector," moved along an air lane reserved for the most privileged layers of society.
A massive man in an expensive business suit, made in the traditionally flashy colors of the "corporates," sat tensely on a luxurious couch upholstered with costly leather from the most exotic animals in the galaxy.
His posture would have been more fitting for a droid — he held himself with such rigidity in a spot where he usually lounged languidly in his seat.
Right in front of him, a holographic projector was working, displaying a life-sized blue-and-white projection of his interlocutor.
Out of the corner of his eye, the advisor noted that his driver was noticeably nervous — the enclosed flyer moving ahead of them was piloted by a droid, which was evidence of the vehicle owner's modest wealth. Wealthy beings preferred to hire live drivers. Their services, by Etti IV standards, didn't cost that much...
But it wasn't the advisor's concern to worry about that — his driver, who also served as his bodyguard, had been provided by his master.
And if someone couldn't even afford that, one could only hope their jalopy didn't fall apart in midair.
But the advisor was more interested in the conversation with the hologram.
Several years ago, he had met his interlocutor in person.
And he knew perfectly well, despite the hologram's two-color display, that this man wore long, snow-white hair, which gave his harsh, scarred face a veneer of unreality, of artificiality...
However, the loyal servant would never have said such a thing aloud. And even that thought dated back to the time before he had undergone processing at the secret "Zann Consortium" base in the depths of the Corporate Sector.
"Did the investigation determine the cause of the Rossum plant's destruction?" asked Tyber Zann.
"Sabotage," the advisor replied without hesitation. "Baradium charges detonated near the reactors. No possibility of saving the facility from the moment the explosions occurred."
"Have the investigators identified who did it?" asked Tyber Zann.
"We know the bombs were planted by a male humanoid with the help of an alien from the Sluissi race. But identifying their persons hasn't been possible yet."
"As was the one who kidnapped Ellie Stark, isn't that so?" a growing rage was audible in the Consortium leader's voice.
"Yes, master," the advisor confirmed. "We checked the registries of arriving and departing ships, but there are too many human matches. And the Sluissi haven't landed on Etti IV at all in the last year. Officially, at least."
"There's no need to guess about the saboteurs' identities," Tyber Zann declared. "It's Jahan Cross and his pet Sluissi. The defector agent put considerable effort into leaking data from my organization to the New Republic, the Empire, the Hutts, which resulted in my defeat, along with the betrayal. True, until now, I believed that altruistic Imperial died during the explosion on my flagship during the mutiny... Well, now we know what's what."
"If I may, master, I thought the attack was the work of Grand Admiral Thrawn's subordinates," the advisor stated. "It was his forces that exposed our 'vulture' on Sluis Van, crushed our fleet at Hypori, and captured the equipment. It's likely that the action on Etti IV is a continuation of the Dominion's recent operations."
"Yes, that's an interesting hypothesis," Zann's hologram rubbed its chin. "The Grand Admiral would never miss an opportunity to finish off an enemy he didn't kill earlier because he was busy. Thrawn is a problem for my plan and the coming restoration of what was lost."
"Should I give the order to attack the Dominion?" asked the advisor.
"Too early," Zann declared. "Besides, Thrawn has surely studied the wreckage of my ships — the scouts didn't find a single piece of starship in the Hypori system. That's also a problem..."
"A swift strike against the Dominion might mean we destroy Thrawn's facilities before they can reverse-engineer the new tech samples..."
"Don't be stupid," Tyber Zann said irritably. "The loss of one Crusader was already the 'warning shot' after which Thrawn acquired the Consortium's technology. Going after the Dominion now is like sticking your neck in a noose. Thrawn is exactly the type to have set traps — he didn't establish the highest level of customs inspection at the borders and fill nearly every one of his core worlds with counter-intelligence officers just for fun. No, he's just waiting for me to attack. The Consortium isn't ready for that kind of confrontation yet. Later, but not now. At the current moment, we need to focus on increasing the number of ships and battle droids for Kamino."
"I'm currently heading to an emergency meeting of the Corporate Sector Government to discuss hiring another contractor," the advisor stated. "The decision will, of course, be supported — every member of the Government is on my 'hook,' so..."
Despite all his attention being focused on the conversation, the "corporate" saw the flyer with the droid pilot explode.
The advisor's vehicle swerved sharply, shielding itself from the detonation point with its repulsors.
And the next moment, the systems that helped the expensive transport move through the air without using its reactor ceased to function.
The speeder plummeted like a stone onto the square, emptied by the explosion, in front of the Government Palace.
The impact upon hitting the permacrete left not the slightest chance of survival for either the driver or the passenger.
Air raid sirens wailed, local residents scurried about, deciding among themselves what they needed more — to watch the crash site, or to get as far away as possible.
And two kilometers from the site of the "Zann Consortium" lobbyist's death in the Corporate Sector, the Shadow Guard Orra Sing methodically disassembled her personally modified "Night Sting" sniper rifle, noting to herself that even in armored speeders, the repulsors are destroyed by a well-aimed shot.
Or several — in this case, she had had to work a bit.
* * *
The Star Destroyer Black Star belonged to the same type as the Tyrant, which Xamuel had previously commanded.
Imperial.
Subtype "One."
A reliable and faithful machine of destruction... And at the same time, a collection of nearly two hundred thousand design flaws.
But even with all such flaws, the warship completely satisfied both Captain Lennox and his crew, the majority of whom were former Tyrant personnel.
Substantially reinforced with clones of the best specialists from the Dominion's regular fleet.
An interesting fact, especially considering the galaxy hadn't seen such a huge number of clones in state service in almost thirty standard years.
However, for Grand Admiral Thrawn, previously constrained in human and other resources, using the legacy of the Clone Wars to expand his own capabilities was more than a logical step.
Captain Lennox approved of this approach, including the use of clones and Republic military hardware.
Better than nothing.
And considering the fact that the clones were made from the best donors, masters of their craft, any complaints about this method of crew composition were utterly laughable.
Lennox could see firsthand that the clones were in no way inferior to regular military personnel, and in many ways even surpassed the average Imperial soldier — his current assignment for the Black Star was being carried out after it had destroyed pirate and smuggler nests in the Korva sector.
Fast, efficient, without losses on their side.
The Black Star hung motionless in interstellar void, waiting for a courier ship from the commander of the Red Star squadron.
The crew of the Black Star had completed their part of the current operation, conducted in the Tragan cluster by the Dominion's regular fleet, a full day ago.
The cloaking screen projectors were mounted on the single HoloNet relay in this corner of the galaxy.
And, as the clone technicians had already informed Xamuel, this equipment was quite specific — which is why it wasn't standard issue on every other Dominion ship.
No signals pass through the cloaking field. Neither from inside, nor from outside. An interesting feature of the technology...
And at the same time, Captain Lennox understood perfectly well for what purposes such expensive equipment had to be installed on an ancient relay, nearly falling apart from age.
Without knowing all the details of the squadron's operation, Xamuel could still connect one fact to another.
Relays ensure the reception and transmission of message traffic beyond the cluster.
The cloaking field, based on the hybidium mineral, blocks any signals, effectively blinding and deafening any technical object within the activation zone of the device.
Judging by the fact that two units away from the Star Destroyer, the huge, ugly structure of the relay wasn't registering on scanners or visually, the cloaking field was working as intended.
The only question was what goals Grand Admiral Thrawn was pursuing by ordering Captain Lennox to disrupt the old relay's operation with the cloaking field.
And at the same time — to be ready, upon receiving the appropriate order, to place another, more modern transceiver in another part of the cluster?
There must be some hidden meaning in using one of the dozen newest automatic relays, captured by the regular fleet during the attack on the Core Worlds and the New Republic's capital, to establish communication in this part of the Outer Territories.
However, if one approached this reflection creatively, then the "hidden meaning" wasn't so hidden.
The Grand Admiral was providing redundancy for the messaging system, to prevent anyone in the galaxy from cutting off the Dominion's access to the HoloNet and the opportunities it provided.
Simple, yet quite clever.
Xamuel smirked at his own thoughts.
Yes, serving such a ruler was a pleasure.
As was serving the Dominion in general.
Here he agreed with the opinion of the majority of the several hundred thousand Imperial prisoners freed from New Republic prisons — if every Imperial Remnant couldn't care less about the fate of the Empire's military personnel, then why should they care about the fate of Palpatine's rotting remains?
Especially since Dominion Intelligence was working quite productively, evacuating the families of former prisoners from territories controlled by other Remnants...
What more did one need for happiness?
Beloved work, family, substantial pay, and the desire to protect one's current way of life from any external encroachment?
Yes, the Dominion was worth fighting for.
Of this, Xamuel was unshakably certain.
And, to the misfortune of the Dominion's enemies, his point of view was shared by hundreds of thousands of former Republic prisoners.
Hundreds of thousands of experienced career soldiers who were given the chance to settle scores with their jailers for everything.
* * *
Captain Makeno glanced at his wrist chronometer.
Not much time had passed since his group arrived at the designated point in space.
However, the fighters had completed the task set before them admirably — even if nothing was visible outside the viewport of the Raider-class corvette. And the scanners registered nothing as well.
But that was how command intended it.
It would have been worse if the onboard equipment had registered the multiple objects they had deployed from their ship.
Naturally, the fleet special forces didn't know the purposes for which this technology was being used.
Such was the lot of the executor — working at the "sharp end," they understood intellectually that they were performing actions that were part of one large operation.
But what exactly was happening, what command's plan was — none of the fighters knew.
Not even their commander.
But, since the task was set by Grand Admiral Thrawn, something clearly important was happening.
And significant.
Well, all that remained was to sit and wait for the operation to end, so they could understand what exactly they had helped bring about.
"A destroyer has emerged from hyperspace," the corvette commander reported.
"Whose?" Orsan asked, tensing up.
The Raider, although not equipped with stealth systems, still remained undetectable to the enemy.
Completely powered down, with systems and sensors off, the ship could rely on only one type of observation — the naked eyes of the beings on board.
That's why they were outside the active sensor range of the destroyer, observing what was happening near the HoloNet relay using simple optical detection means.
"Too far for visual identification of the hull designation, sir," the pilot explained. "We'll get data from the spy droids after they leave."
"In that case, continue observing," Makeno ordered. "Be ready to get underway and jump into hyperspace as soon as our opponent indicates we've been detected."
But there was hope that the destroyer's crew wouldn't find them beyond the standard security procedures for the duration of the work.
Because in that case, the operation could be considered a failure.
"Acknowledged, Captain," the pilot replied.
Orsan impatiently drummed his fingers on the armrest.
He wondered what the other ten of his men, assigned to the other two special forces squads, were doing.
* * *
Tragan Cluster.
Otherwise known as the "Tragan Sector," this cluster, despite its discovery hundreds of years before the rise of the Galactic Empire, remained so poorly explored that for most who had even heard of its existence, it was known only for the cattle market on Shaum Hii.
In addition, the extremely dangerous nebula known as the Bacasian Drift also hampered the development of the territories, leaving scientific minds to ponder what might lie in the uncharted depths of space in this section of the galaxy's Outer Rim.
When the Galactic Empire subjugated this corner of the galaxy, it restored a base on the planet Ord Traga in the cluster.
True, it no longer existed — due to the incompetence and lack of talent in military command, the fleet and troops of the local Moff were crushed by the Rebel Alliance.
The cluster joined the victors, but as soon as the Grand Admiral announced the creation of the Dominion, the local government preferred to remember the meaning of the word "neutrality."
And apparently, they would soon be joining the Dominion outright.
All the stranger, then, did the new order received from Lord Quest seem to the crews of the Tyrant and the Star Web.
No, shooting down a starship from the D'Astan sector and executing a baron for attempted treason was, of course, an understandable order.
But, organizing a blockade on this section of the Selonian Spur — a local hyperlane crossing nearly the entire northern part of the galaxy, known as the New Territories?!
Right under Grand Admiral Thrawn's nose?!
"It's sheer madness," thought every member of both ships' crews, remembering how four Star Destroyers of the Ubiqtorate had vanished from sight, sent in pursuit of the crew of the Void Wanderer, which had fled the Bilbringi shipyards because they weren't allowed to join Thrawn's fleet.
And no one had ever been able to establish a connection between these events or prove the Grand Admiral's involvement in the disappearance of the ships belonging to the Empire's most respected and dangerous organization.
But rumors said otherwise.
The Void Wanderer had already been spotted multiple times in operations as part of Thrawn's fleet. Therefore...
One could draw one's own conclusion — the Grand Admiral had destroyed or captured the crews of four destroyers simply because they were pursuing people who wanted to serve in the Supreme Commander's fleet.
And here, with the forces of only two ships, they were ordered to blockade an entire hyperlane! What could the consequences possibly be?!
Clearly not the strengthening of cooperation between the Imperial Remnants.
Especially since it was along the Selonian Spur that cargo traveled not only from Ciutric to the Oplovis and Lahara sectors. Also, in the Tragan Sector specifically, there had been an increase in Republican raider attacks on freighters of the Pentastar Alignment. In fact, this was why Grand Moff Kaine couldn't properly arm his armada, which he was essentially completing at every shipyard in his state.
However, Lord Quest hadn't even bothered to explain to the ship commanders what exactly they were supposed to intercept here.
The Star Destroyer and the interdictor cruiser had positioned themselves in a system that didn't even have its own name. In astrogation guides, it was listed as M2934738. And this, in turn, meant that those who had discovered this part of the sector hadn't even bothered to stop and count the celestial bodies or study the spectral class of the local star.
Those who had plotted the system on the map simply didn't care what they had found here...
The crew of the Tyrant felt a slight tremor run through the decks beneath their feet for a moment. This phenomenon occurred when the interdictor cruiser, or a starship of similar purpose, activated all four of its gravity well generators simultaneously.
The Dominion's territories were growing like yeast, so their logistics never stopped working for a single day. It was necessary to supply numerous garrisons and planets not only with industrial goods but also to provide their own troops with construction materials, vehicles, equipment, ammunition, medicine, spare parts, and provisions.
Being in this system, the ships could intercept both Dominion transports and attack Republican raiders.
Perhaps that was the purpose of the mission...
Apparently, Imperial Space had decided to finally put an end to Grand Admiral Thrawn's expansion and had sent a detachment of ships here to disrupt transport.
Or to hunt Republicans.
Both ship commanders — of the Tyrant and the Star Web — expected that clarification of orders would come, that they would understand what they were even doing here...
But hours passed, a day elapsed, and after reporting to Orinda that the starships had taken up their position, no new orders arrived.
All that remained was to wait and hope the situation would change.
And, oddly enough, it did change.
At the end of the second day on station.
The gravity trawl fished a starship out of hyperspace.
"Prepare to open fire," the Tyrant's commander ordered, moving along the central walkway. "Type and name identified?"
The hauled-out starship was too far away for visual identification of even its size, so they had to rely on scanners.
It had only been caught by the edge of the deployed vector by sheer luck.
"Yes, sir, it's a Corellian corvette," the scan systems operator confirmed. "Type CR90. Carrying Dominion identification codes..."
"Sir," the comm station hailed. "We've been informed that the Tragan Cluster joined the Dominion a day ago."
"Are they suggesting we clear out of here?" asked the Tyrant's commander, quickly thinking how to handle the situation.
It was one thing — remaining in place while the cluster had a neutral status.
But when it was Dominion territory?!
Hutt, why hadn't anyone from Orinda bothered to inform them?!
A day!
They'd had a whole hutt day to withdraw the ships, to prevent them from being located in another state's territory.
And that state, whose ruler was famous for quite easily getting rid of anyone who crossed his path!
The presence of a military vessel or armed forces on territory controlled by another state was essentially a "Jedi's Delight" a direct declaration of war.
The term had its origins dating back to the Clone Wars, and debates still raged about whether the term was accurate or whether it was another milestone of anti-Jedi propaganda started by the Empire in its time.
"No, sir," the comm operator's voice changed beyond recognition. The man was surprised. "We are ordered to lay the ships dead in space, shut down engines, weapons, and shields, and prepare to surrender. Sir, they are transmitting beyond the system. They started as soon as they emerged from hyperspace."
"What nonsense?" the commander of the Tyrant grimaced. "Maybe the Dominion has Thrawn with his bag of tricks, but not every starship carries a grand admiral. Are they planning to capture us with a single corvette?"
"Hyperspace disturbance!" the grav-acoustic operator shouted. "Sir, there's something very large out there!"
"Where's 'out there'?" the ship commander inquired, turning to the tactical monitor.
The central computer registered another vessel appearing in the system.
A new triangular marker coincided with the position of the Star Web. The ship was likely moving along the same vector as the interdictor cruiser.
And since the gravity projectors were deployed along the ship's bow, it was no surprise that the 'guest' had emerged from hyperspace a level higher...
Executing the Tartar attack pattern!
Using the squadron's own gravitational field to exit hyperspace exactly where it wanted to!
And the next moment, the commander of the Tyrant was flying across the central platform, unable to withstand the monstrous force of the shockwave that swept through the Star Destroyer's bridge.
"We're being attacked by anti-ship missiles!" the first officer reported, running over and helping the ship commander to his feet. "Sensors, deflectors, long-range communications — all destroyed. The Star Web has been hit too. Both ships are without deflectors!"
"What the hut is going on?!" the Star Destroyer commander shouted. "Who dares attack us?"
Instead of an answer, a volumetric projection of a middle-aged man appeared from the portable hologram projector, leaning on a cane topped with a large precious stone.
A cold gaze from clear eyes, the characteristic cut of an Alderaanian uniform, the aristocratic demeanor of a man who had with equal ease exterminated the population of a rebel planet in the Ghost Nebula and wiped out pirate clans in the Outer Rim.
Not to mention that over the past six months, this man's name had been linked to nearly a third of all battles Grand Admiral Thrawn had fought against the New Republic.
The commander of the Tyrant felt his palms grow sticky with sweat and perspiration break out on his forehead.
"Crews of the Tyrant and Star Web," the Butcher of Atoa addressed the starship commanders in a quiet but utterly confident voice. "I am Commodore Eric Shohashi, fast star dreadnought Crimson Dawn, regular Dominion fleet. You have violated the borders of our state, attempted to detain our ships. You are also guilty of the destruction of the D'Astan sector leader, and I have been tasked with taking you prisoner. If in one minute your ships do not surrender and accept prize crews, I will take you by storm. I believe the crew of the Titan already knows that I have boarding experience with their ship. You have exactly one minute for voluntary surrender. After that, I will turn your starships into sieves and kill everyone who tries to resist. The countdown has begun."
When the hologram disappeared, the commander of the Tyrant understood everything.
Both that his oath required him and his crew to fight to the end, even if it meant certain death.
And the reason they had been sent here immediately after the destruction of Baron D'Asta instead of imprisoning him, putting him on trial, and publicly executing him as Imperial law demanded...
Lord Quest had used them in his dirty games and now intended to get rid of unwanted witnesses.
Just like that, sending the crews of two ships to their deaths!
The commander of the Tyrant was brought out of his thoughts by a targeted salvo from the Crimson Dawn, which demonstratively ripped open the ship's hull in front of a trio of linearly elevated medium turbolaser turrets.
The commander of the Tyrant made his decision.
The minute was up.
It wouldn't have been enough to even attempt an escape from a 'destroyer hunter'. The Tyrant had no chance, nor did the Star Web.
Shohashi hadn't disabled the long-range communications systems for nothing, leaving only the short-range communication antennas operational.
He'd given them a choice — to decide for themselves, without being able to contact Orinda and report the incident.
Live for the crew, or betray those who had abandoned them here to die.
Maybe not today, but the Dominion would clearly learn of their activities...
That was Orinda's calculation — to get rid of unwanted witnesses...
How bitter it was to realize that you had been used for someone else's purposes.
The bravado that had been running through the commander of the Tyrant's imagination instantly evaporated.
"Port side guns have been knocked out by the Crimson Dawn's ion artillery!" the first officer reported. "The Star Web has already surrendered..."
"Contact Shohashi," the commander of the Tyrant ordered. "We surrender."
The bastards on the Imperial Ruling Council would pay for what they'd done.
* * *
The Chimaera measured off parsec after parsec, heading toward its distant, cherished goal.
The capital of the D'Astan sector, the planet Nez Peron.
Meanwhile, a hologram of the Oricho, Nunanari, and Odoster sectors burned before his eyes.
A considerable territory, bordering the Lahar and Venin sectors, which had come under Dominion administration some time ago.
The local governments in these sectors had, quite suddenly and without any prerequisites, expressed interest in integration, and a summit meeting was expected.
But personally, for me and the current final stage of the entire campaign, the Oricho sector was interesting for completely different reasons.
Just like the Nunanari and Odzoster sectors — they were on the list of information transfer points that Mr. Ghent had identified.
And figuring out where exactly it would happen was no problem at all — you just had to make it so that out of three possible communication locations, the enemy only had one option for response.
The one that suited me.
As much as possible.
Studying an opponent who never showed himself was difficult.
So it couldn't be said that I had full control of the operation.
It was based on simple logic and knowledge of how the Ubiqtorate obtained information.
Blackhole could be predicted — but only when you knew at least something about who he really was and what drove him.
And that, unfortunately, was a mystery.
Not only to me, but also to those who had served under his direct command.
Therefore, the operation was built on the crumbs of information we had.
Namely, on Blackhole's secrecy.
Whatever guided him, he clearly wasn't striving to be discovered.
Consequently, risk wasn't his path.
The spider weaves its web where the victim won't easily find it.
And therefore, the countermeasures were designed to find the spider, not tear the web.
The question was only how paranoid Blackhole was.
I admit, such an operation was intriguing.
Outwitting a trickster was no simple task.
But it was doable.
And so, we would soon meet Palpatine's agent.
I finished my physical training and sat in my chair, listening to Commodore Shohashi's report.
"Damage to both ships is minimal, sir," he reported. "The crews have been placed under arrest, and transfer crews will deliver the starships to a holding system for examination."
"Have the ship commanders already given testimony?" I inquired.
"Preliminary," Shohashi confirmed. "They claim they received orders to destroy the Baron from Lord Quest, the unofficial leader of the Imperial Ruling Council. Such a decision, as stated in the order, was dictated by the Baron's betrayal and separatist negotiations regarding the secession of his sector from Imperial Space. Following this, they were sent to the Trogan Cluster to organize a blockade. They received no changes to Tragan's status, no additional orders from the time they reached their position. They believe they were deliberately sent to this point so that we would destroy their ships and thus get rid of unwanted witnesses to the criminal order."
Interesting.
"Return to your current orders, Commodore," I ordered.
Shohashi saluted and signed off.
I wondered — was he planning to request that his sister be transferred somewhere closer to him? If not, I sincerely respected the man for adhering to his ideals and the letter of the law.
Or perhaps he already knew that the superlaser specialist had already received an assignment to a slow-moving project. One that I hoped would soon progress by leaps and bounds.
The damaged mechanisms of the proton beam cannon had lain idle for a long time with no possibility of repair. But now, with a competent specialist on board, things should start moving. Extra firepower wouldn't hurt us.
However, now I needed to think about something else.
What had happened at Vinsoth and the version that had been communicated to those who carried out the criminal order.
It wasn't without logic, but it wasn't the whole truth either.
I didn't believe that Lord Kursk, a former (and definitely still active) Hand of the Emperor, would give the order to kill the Baron for such a reason.
Too petty.
Yes, Ragez had played a considerable role in the activities of Imperial Space, especially in logistics matters, but even if he had joined the Dominion (hypothetically), it wasn't grounds for such an execution.
No consequences of secession were worth such a rash move — and an experienced politician understood that.
Just as he understood that I'd been warned that tampering with the borders of Imperial Remnants would trigger an immediate reaction. Yes, Grand Moff Kaine had conveyed that to me, but Palpatine or his advisors clearly kept operatives of such high level as Blackhole and Kursk informed about the tacit agreements with me.
The loss of cargo transportation due to changes wasn't a critical problem either.
The Baron's transport companies weren't a panacea for the logistics of Imperial Space. Not so long ago, there had been a competition in which Ragez clearly hadn't been the favorite. So even if he'd withdrawn his ships from Imperial Space, it wouldn't have caused a collapse.
And certainly, Kursk understood perfectly well that Vinsoth had been in my zone of attention. And that what happened there was clearly known to me in the smallest detail.
Consequently, he knew full well that I had given the Baroness the recordings of what had happened. The fact that the ships had been sent practically under the Dominion's nose indicated that the Baroness had indeed met with Lord Quest and told him that I knew everything.
The Tyrant and the Star Web hadn't been sent to the cluster to 'die' against the Dominion fleet.
This was a provocation toward open conflict.
An escalation of tension.
The open elimination of an ally would lead to political instability in the D'Asta sector, and combat ships at the borders... Petty for an experienced schemer, an unofficial leader of the Imperial Ruling Council.
Lord Quest was hardly doing this himself — probably one of his underlings, while he merely observed the turn of events.
Naturally, Orinda, upon learning of Tragan's accession to the Dominion, was recalling its ships.
Because this was no longer a provocation — it was a direct conflict.
And judging by what Kaine had said, and by the fact that neither Orinda nor any other Remnant had done anything to eliminate the Dominion, they had instructions from 'above' not to intervene.
For the time being...
But Orinda had been unable to convey the order to withdraw for one simple reason — the team under Captain Makeno's command had blocked the hyperwave relay. Not a single message had reached the Tyrant and the Star Web.
And by the time word reached them through the Outer Rim's less-than-new relays, these ships would already be undergoing repairs at Dominion shipyards.
And the crews, as intended, would be convinced that their own rulers had sent them to the slaughter.
A little later, after screening, those crew members deemed loyal by counterintelligence would be integrated into the Dominion's armed forces.
With a small PR campaign across the HoloNet.
A small nested doll in response, to give Imperial Space a 'kick' in the direction I needed.
Personal insult, loss of reputation, public humiliation...
However, the situation was far from as simple as it seemed.
Baroness D'Asta had already arrived on Nez Peron.
The local aristocracy had entered the struggle for the right to govern the sector.
And the Baroness had already informed me that she intended, if not to meet in person, then certainly to speak with me.
Why — that was clear enough.
A lady in distress needed support to maintain power in the sector. The price of support — the annexation of D'Astan with all its resources and capabilities to the Dominion.
The deal was tactically advantageous — we still received a lot from the D'Astans. Weapons, equipment for the defense forces.
Many D'Astan pilots served in the Dominion regular fleet.
Refusing now would mean losing both the Baroness's loyalty and the supplies.
Agreeing would inevitably complicate my life.
For the reasons I'd already mentioned.
Redistributing territories loyal to Imperial Space could easily turn into a full-scale invasion by Orinda's forces. Especially since they were already on combat alert.
I needed to buy time. The longer, the better.
Because right now, I absolutely didn't need another front.
An attack on the Dominion would reveal perimeter defense changes before their time.
But ignoring the Baroness and her requests for help wasn't an option either.
Not an option at all.
An interesting conundrum.
A tactical victory in the form of supporting the Baroness and annexing the sector could turn into a strategic defeat.
A tactical defeat in the form of refusal on both points (or even one of them) would inevitably lead to the same strategic defeat.
Because at the moment, the Dominion wasn't yet ready to give up supplies from the D'Astan sector.
A compromise was needed.
A reasonable one.
And I already had a suitable solution.
But even for that, I needed to buy time.
In the foreseeable future, I had an opportunity to destroy Palpatine's eyes and ears in the galaxy in one fell swoop, which would at least make his commanders more cautious during the coming offensive.
"Sir, we're exiting hyperspace in ten minutes," Gilad warned via comlink.
"Acknowledged, Captain," I replied. "Contact the D'Astan House residence, notify them of our arrival. And prepare a meeting room — the sooner we finish here, the better. I'll be waiting for the Baroness aboard the Chimaera within two hours, after which we depart."
"Will do, sir."
If the Baroness wanted to meet and discuss what was bothering her, the aristocrat should hurry and not waste time on primping.
* * *
Mara rubbed the bridge of her nose.
"So, you're claiming your Jedi friend is in there," she pointed at the massive, time-ravaged building. "And we're sitting around waiting for the droids to make sure there are no traps or a battalion of mercenaries lying in ambush inside."
"Sneaking into an unfamiliar building at night that's ready to collapse on your head at any moment isn't the best idea," Ahsoka remarked.
"Sitting around waiting for your horned friend to organize a welcoming committee for us isn't a great plan either," Mara retorted.
Despite many of its structures being dilapidated and even looking decrepit, the building emanated the Force, not to mention that the architecture itself was striking in its monumentality.
"I said I sensed that Eymand was in the Library," Ahsoka grimaced, also sitting behind the massive stone boulders like the red-haired girl. "And I didn't say he might be hostile."
From the smooth edges and uniformity of the material, one could conclude that they had once been part of this magnificent structure, but the catastrophe that had occurred had caused irreparable damage to this ancient architectural object.
"Is this the fifth building we're going to search?" Jade inquired sarcastically. "And the beacon and the ship were found in a completely different direction. Maybe the Force let you down?"
The Togruta sighed restrainedly.
"We're on a planet that hasn't had any life on it for several thousand years," she stated. "Eymand landed in the only place on the planet where the ruins of a settlement remained, but hastily left it on a speeder bike. And he was definitely searching for the Great Jedi Library."
"Then what was he doing in the other buildings?" Jade asked. "They're quite far from this structure, don't you think?"
Ahsoka looked at her companion.
"You don't know anything about Ossus, do you?"
"You say that like it's my fault," the Hand indirectly confirmed the Togruta's assumption.
"I'm not blaming you, of course," Tano said. "It's just... All Jedi know the history of Ossus's devastation. And it's closely tied to the history of the Great Jedi Library."
.
The Great Jedi Library (Ossus).
.
"Jedi, maybe," Mara agreed. "I have a somewhat different past and different values."
"Yes, I understand," Ahsoka nodded, leaning her back against the rock. "We have a few hours while the Scout Droids survey the premises. If you want, I can tell you the story. Though, I don't exactly know it in detail..."
"But 'all Jedi know the history of Ossus's devastation'?" Mara teased her companion.
Ahsoka snorted into her fist.
"Alright, I admit, that was unnecessary," she said. "Actually, I don't think most Jedi of my generation knew about Ossus. At least I only heard the story in a few lessons, and I don't recall any adult Jedi ever telling it... Not even Anakin or Obi-Wan were ever known for that. And Kenobi, when he wasn't lecturing or setting you on the right path, could be quite the storyteller..."
A mysterious smile appeared on Mara's face.
"What?" Ahsoka didn't understand.
"Your teacher," Mara explained. "I just... pictured for a moment Darth Vader sitting by a campfire, somewhere in the woods, surrounded by students and clones, telling them about the history of the Jedi Order. Complete with his signature breathing," the red-haired interlocutor cupped her hands in front of her mouth and demonstrated the sounds that terrorized most of the galaxy.
"He didn't always wear the armor," Ahsoka darkened. "And he didn't always hold the title of Darth. I knew him as a straightforward, honest, and caring friend who would move mountains but come to a friend's aid."
"Oh," Mara exclaimed. "You know, after he dressed up in black and got himself a stylish helmet, he didn't change a bit. Except he had only one 'friend' Darth Sidious. And the performances they put on were famously Sith. Burn one planet here, another there, build a battle station out there... Well, you know — boys grow into men, and their toys get bigger."
The Togruta shook her head ruefully.
"Let's get back to the history of the Great Library?" she suggested.
"I have no objection," Mara noted.
"From what I remember, Ossus was one of the first planets where Jedi settled. Here they developed their teachings about the Light Side of the Force, until one day, one of the Jedi desired more. His name was Exar Kun. He journeyed across the galaxy and acquired Sith knowledge. Then, gathering followers, he arrived on Ossus, where he caused one of the nearest stars to go supernova. The Jedi fled the planet, taking some of their knowledge with them. Part of what remained was hidden by Exar Kun, and part remained here. The Jedi Order regularly sent various archaeological expeditions here to reclaim their heritage in one way or another. So, getting back to your question about why there are several buildings here. The Great Jedi Library on Ossus had a large number of structures because it housed colossal volumes of knowledge and artifacts."
"Judging by the fact that Eymand flew back here, clearly not everything was found," Mara noted.
"Probably so," Ahsoka agreed. "But the fact that he stopped communicating worries me. Even if he found something valuable, something he wouldn't want to pass on to Thrawn, fearing it would be used to harm sentient beings, he would never go into hiding..."
"It seems to me that you're clearly not telling me something," Mara stated. "Finding something valuable and dangerous, and then hiding — that's actually quite logical. Trust me — I've exposed plenty of such characters in my life."
"Never mind," Ahsoka waved her hand. "The main thing is we have an hour for the droids to work and..."
Suddenly she fell silent, reaching out to the Force.
The girl jerked her head up, squinting.
Mara was about to ask what happened, but immediately sensed the change in the Force...
A Corellian freighter was coming in steep for landing, tearing through the atmosphere, paying no attention to being engulfed in friction flames.
It felt as if the pilot of this ship was in such a hurry that he was squeezing everything the machine had to offer, just to get to the surface faster.
Whether in one piece or not wasn't so important...
"You feel it too?" Mara whispered.
"Yes," Ahsoka's features sharpened. The Togruta rose from the sandy surface of Ossus. "Quickly, we need to go."
"Agreed," the red-haired girl adjusted her combat jumpsuit and fastened a small backpack with provisions on her chest. "Whoever is on board that freighter, they're clearly strong, and I don't think they'll help us find Eymand and get the remaining artifacts out of here."
"They won't," Ahsoka said confidently, as both girls started running, seeing that the charred ship had already landed in front of the Library entrance and a couple of people had rushed inside the building. "If I've correctly identified the trace they're leaving in the Force, we have relatively big problems. I suspect Luke Skywalker has dropped by."
"So what?" Mara was surprised. "He's self-taught. You can hardly become a grand master from a DIY manual..."
"If he truly is the son of Anakin Skywalker, whom you knew as Darth Vader, then he doesn't need great skill," Ahsoka said. "Their family has an unpleasant trait — they bulldoze their way through and overpower you by sheer strength."
"'When you're the size of a rancor, your blindness isn't your problem anymore'?" Mara clarified, recalling an old saying.
"Uh-huh," Tano grunted. "So be ready to fight a man who wields a lightsaber like a blacksmith's hammer."
* * *
After the Baroness finished speaking, an awkward silence hung in the conference room.
"No," I stated firmly. "The Dominion will not support your claims to power in the D'Astan sector, Baroness."
Not a single muscle on the girl's face twitched.
But I could have sworn she hadn't expected an answer like that, one that ran counter to my state's obvious interests.
"Grand Admiral," impatience crept into her tone. "I don't think you fully understand the political consequences of such a refusal. The Dominion exports large volumes of goods, including military ones, from the D'Astan sector. If other aristocrats come to power, the shipments arranged by my father will clearly cease."
Pressure through rationality… Not a bad tactic.
"I'm afraid it is you, Baroness, who does not understand the consequences," I countered. "The D'Astan sector is, if only formally, territory of Imperial Space. Dominion interference in your internal affairs would mean a direct confrontation with the Imperial Ruling Council. Of which, incidentally, you are a member."
"Not anymore," anger crept into Fina's voice. "Not after they killed my father for his desire to unite with you. Note, I am continuing his policy. And I don't think you would have refused him such a request — after everything he did for you."
"My relationship with your father is none of your concern," I clarified. "That's the first thing. Second — the Baron would have received exactly the same answer you are getting now if he had come to me with a similar proposal. I believe that, as a person close to Lord Quest, you are aware of the terms of my deal with the Imperial Ruling Council — not to interfere in the internal and political affairs of the Empire in exchange for support in the current campaign.
"So that's how it is?" the girl no longer hid her irritation. "So you're ready to abandon an ally in a time of unrest and upheaval? And this from the noble Grand Admiral Thrawn, a man of honor who keeps his word to protect Imperial worlds?"
"Rhetoric will not help you, Baroness," I warned. "Firstly, let me remind you that I am not Human. That's the first thing. Second — I do keep my word. There will be no interference in the affairs of Imperial Space. At least, not as long as it doesn't threaten the security of the Dominion. My decision is final. I am sure you understand not only the obvious reasons, but also the unspoken hints that were conveyed to me by the Emperor's representatives."
For a moment, she seemed taken aback.
But it all looked far too staged.
"Do you know about Palpatine's resurrection?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," I answered simply.
No one was going to fill her in on the details of how and from where I learned about it.
"Then you are more informed than I suspected," the girl declared.
"Perhaps," I answered evasively.
Fina let out a demonstratively heavy sigh.
"I was hoping for your support," she said.
"Well, sometimes one must be disappointed in people," I observed philosophically. "For example, in daughters who, in order to hold onto their power, report their father's actions to Lord Quest."
The girl flinched.
"How do you know that?" she asked.
"As you have already noted, I am sufficiently informed," a blush of shame appeared on the girl's aristocratic face. "What is your opinion — should I trust someone who, to satisfy her own desires, betrayed her own father? Given your age, position, and life experience, you clearly understood that your father would face death at the hands of Quest's minions. Yet you took that step."
"I hoped it would all be resolved with simple negotiations and concessions," the young woman looked away.
"The only thing I hate more than betrayal is a lie told to my face," I shared my life credo with my interlocutor. "Do not stoop to petty deception, Baroness. This act does not become you. Nor, for that matter, any sentient being."
"Did you agree to meet with me only to humiliate me?" the aristocrat squinted.
"Making verbal insults is not my way," I countered. "But I also considered giving my answer via voice call to be improper."
The young woman rose from the sofa.
"Thank you for your time, Grand Admiral. I think it's time for me to leave your flagship..."
"Sit down," I said in a commanding tone, not taking my eyes off the face of the Baroness, who was slightly surprised by my tone. "I'm not finished."
And there it was, the test of her strength and interest.
If she takes offense and leaves, it means she has no more intelligence than a Gungan.
If she stays and remains silent, that's also not reasonable. No one needs a 'pushover' as a partner. Especially not in this galaxy.
"Do not dare to order me, Thrawn," the Baroness said quietly but clearly. "Not now, and not ever in the future."
There was no wounded pride, no offense, no anger in her voice — she spoke with dignity, unwilling to let it be diminished.
She knows her own worth. Good, that she hasn't lost it since our last rendezvous.
"Whether or not we have a common future depends entirely on your decision — to stay or to leave." Very well, let's assume one can talk to her as an equal. But only in a certain context.
Unlike her father, she knows her worth.
The rationality of her actions, however, raises many questions.
"Common — never," the Baroness suddenly bared her teeth.
An interesting reaction.
And what provoked it?
"Strange, considering you were the one who asked me for a political alliance," I raised an eyebrow.
The girl visibly relaxed, settling back onto the small sofa.
"You changed your mind rather quickly," she noted.
"My decision remains the same," I rapped out.
"Then, I resolutely fail to understand... I think..."
'Don't, it's not your strong suit,' I and my classmates used to say in our cadet youth. A minor jab at my interlocutor.
A harmless joke, all in all.
Just not one worth voicing in the current reality.
"The Dominion will not interfere in the internal affairs of the D'Astan sector," I declared.
"But..."
"However, on the territory of my state, there are many citizens of your sector who have voluntarily enlisted for military service," I continued. "As I see the crisis in your sector, every patriot is obliged to return to their homeland and support the government. Considering that House D'Asta has been the legitimate ruler of the sector for many years, and the law defines that your family holds the right to the sector's throne, I believe that the actions of the other aristocrats constitute a rebellion."
"They have considerable armed forces," the Baroness noted. "Part of the fleet has gone over to their side. As have significant army units. And they are guided by a provision of our Constitution, according to which only a man can be the ruler."
Ah... So that's what her outburst of anger about a 'common future' was about.
No, thank you, I'll decline.
At least for now.
"I advise you to study astrography," I said. "In close proximity, there are so many planets whose inhabitants have been recruited by various organizations and governments as regular troops, bodyguards, and mercenaries..."
"Let's say," the heir to the throne said slowly. "However... not all of them are good against a regular army."
"It depends on how good their instructors are," I noted. "As I mentioned, thousands of D'Astans — pilots and other specialists — have served in the Dominion. I assume they are primarily loyal to House D'Asta. I would advise you to issue a call for patriots to return to the sector to defend the legitimate government."
"Thank you, I will do that," the girl smiled timidly. "Thank you for your help, Grand Admiral. I am confident that in the future, our relationship will be exclusively friendly and neighborly."
"Without a doubt," I nodded. "But only if you tell me the truth, here and now."
The girl blinked, turning her long lashes into a sort of miniature fan.
"If it is within my power, Grand Admiral, then without question..."
"It is within yours, do not worry," I assured her. "At the moment, I am interested in the identity of those who maintain communication between you and the Hutts."
The girl tensed noticeably, understanding that one does not make such statements without real knowledge of the situation.
The fact that I remember this from another life is a factor that concerns no one.
"Why do you need that?" she asked.
"I want to find the real Fina D'Asta," I said calmly.
My interlocutor's face darkened.
"Or do you not know that you are a clone?" I asked.
Whether this faint is real or feigned, I find difficult to determine.