Nine years, ten months, and fifteen days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or the forty-fourth year, ten months, and fifteen days after the Great Resynchronization.
(Five months and thirty-five days since the Arrival.)
The commander of the Stormhawk sat in his quarters, sipping a vitamin-enriched drink from a half-liter ceramic bowl.
Actually, when he had bought the entire set about ten years ago at the Coruscant market, this bowl was called a "bouillon bowl."
And its purpose, according to table etiquette, was for serving first courses, like soups, porridges, and such.
But over the years of service, Morgot had decided it was more practical to use it directly for drinking — during campaigns, a large amount of liquid is needed.
Some of his colleagues, back in the Imperial Navy, relied on stimulants, others used alcohol.
Morgot, due to his simple upbringing on Nez-Piron, preferred caf or simple vitamin-enriched drinks.
A pleasant-looking woman sitting across from him, dressed in a gray Imperial uniform with captain's pips on her chest, preferred the same approach to staying awake.
Her name was Tanda Pryl, and despite her attractive, untarnished-by-time beauty, the woman was already approaching the threshold of her fourth decade of life.
Like Morgot, she was the commander of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer. And her former "Mark I," the Thunder, with a crew partially replaced by Dominion personnel, was now traveling through hyperspace across the entire galaxy toward their cherished destination.
Directly from the Tapani sector, through territory controlled by the New Republic, straight into the Dominion.
The holds of both ships were packed to the brim with cargoes of weapons and encryption equipment, which Tanda and her ship had guarded at the Ubiqtorate base in the Tapani sector.
The last corner controlled by the bloody organization had surrendered three days ago, when Grand Admiral Thrawn struck the Ubiqtorate.
Without a single shot fired, without any attempt at sabotage, the Thunder and its crew laid down their arms.
And this despite the fact that in a real battle, Tanda's ship could have not only cut the Stormhawk, both supporting Acclamators, and the Venator with ion cannons into small, ugly pieces, but also have "for dessert" the escort corvettes.
But the commander of the Thunder decided otherwise — she surrendered.
Having bargained for herself and her subordinates service to the Dominion.
On the standard conditions for the state's officers.
And now they were returning home.
"You look calm," Morgot said, taking a small sip.
"You gave your word that everything would go smoothly," the woman reminded him, setting her mug of steaming aromatic caf on the table and habitually smoothing her tight braid of blond hair.
The blonde with cobalt-blue eyes seemed indifferent, but Morgot knew his old acquaintance well enough to understand the simple truth: she was nervous.
Captain Tanda Pryl.
"I appreciate that you rely on my word," he remarked. "Though you received all necessary assurances and guarantees of safety and non-prosecution from the Grand Admiral via voice comm."
"I only know Thrawn from the operation against the warlord in the Poln system," Tanda said. "The rest is just rumors and gossip. But I've known you since our first year at the Academy. And I trust your firm judgment."
"Sounds like a compliment," Morgot declared.
"And I also know that you wouldn't have joined someone if you thought they were acting against your own principles," the visitor continued.
"You are as diplomatic as ever," the commander of the Stormhawk smirked with his lips alone.
"Thank you," she replied with an equally perfunctory smile, taking a sip of caf from her own mug. "Is the death of Akal Zed confirmed?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Astorias replied. "The duty officer shot him when Zed ordered to open fire on the Ubiqtorate installation to prevent it from falling into our hands."
"Akal fell apart," Tanda shook her head. "Obviously, service to the Ubiqtorate frayed his nerves."
"In the past, you hated him," Morgot reminded.
"Back when I served in the Elrood sector, I would have gladly slit his throat or thrown the stubborn fool out an airlock — that's how much he irritated me," the woman confirmed. "But after we were transferred to Darth Vader's personal squadron and up until the fall of the Imperial regime in the Elrood sector, we sort of rubbed shoulders. We couldn't be called great friends, of course, but I no longer felt the urge to kill him."
"I heard a lot of good things about him," Morgot said. "In terms of work."
"I'm sorry he died," Tanda admitted. "He would have been a good commander in the Dominion's service."
"If he had agreed to such an offer," the commander of the Stormhawk countered. "Based on how he spent his final minutes, one can assume that Akal made a different choice than you did."
"Well," the woman smoothed her braid, "everyone determines their own future. So, I understand correctly that we are already in territory controlled by the Dominion?"
"That's right," Morgot confirmed.
"And what happens next?" the interlocutor inquired.
"The ship will be taken to the shipyards for inspection and repair, the crew will undergo a filtering procedure," Astorias explained bluntly.
"I'm sure it's not worth asking about the duration of all bureaucratic procedures," Tanda declared. "Bureaucrats are bureaucrats even in the fleet..."
"Given your crew's service record and the ship's condition, I'm confident that within a week or two you'll join the regular fleet."
A smile played on the woman's lips.
"You never could lie, Morgot," she declared. "The Thunder is in excellent condition, so there's no reason to take it to the shipyards."
"And yet, the ship will be taken there. There is no guarantee that the destroyer doesn't have something that could harm the Dominion."
"But I think it's because your engineers are dying to get into the Thunder's weapon system and study firsthand how, during the ship's upgrade to a Mark II, Imperial engineers managed to increase the salvo power," the woman said confidently.
Morgot shrugged.
Honestly, this interested him the least.
Yes, like half the Imperial Starfleet, he knew that the Thunder, after joining Darth Vader's Death Squadron, underwent an upgrade from a Mark I to a Mark II, as did a significant portion of Imperial-class Star Destroyers.
However, the Thunder distinguished itself in this process.
Despite having standard weaponry for a Mark II, this destroyer dealt much greater damage. As if the engineers had somehow modified the weapon system.
How it was done is quite an intriguing mystery, because understanding this secret would allow Dominion starships to surpass their opponents.
Admittedly, back when Morgot first heard about the fate of the Thunder, he thought that Pryl had been helped by her influential relatives.
Tanda came from a privileged family that had taught her the subtle art of manipulating and influencing people. Thanks to her father's influence, she was admitted to the Naval Academy, though it was her own abilities that allowed her to quickly climb the career ladder.
It wasn't for nothing that there was a misconception in the galaxy that women and non-humans had no place in the fleet.
In fact, just like the tale that the Empire oppresses all non-human species without exception, this is not true.
Women and non-humans could be accepted for training at naval academies — if they had influential patrons or tremendous merits. But at the educational institution, among other things, knowledge and tactical skill were necessary.
For an average man, it was enough simply not to be expelled from the Academy to continue his service in the fleet.
For a son of an aristocrat or a major industrialist, it was also enough to simply obtain an officer's commission — and a ship was his due by virtue of his family's merits.
Women and non-humans had to prove every day at the Academy that they were not second-class beings. To survive the culling at the end of each semester, they had to be the best.
Tanda was one of those.
Considering that her family and its connections clearly did not participate in her career (otherwise, after receiving command of a Star Destroyer, she would not have been moved far away to the Elrood sector on the southern borders of the galaxy near the Kathol Rift.
The woman served under Vader excellently, so since the Sith Lord, famous for his intolerance, didn't break her neck or choke her, it means he himself lobbied for the improvement of her starship.
Otherwise, the weapon upgrade was clearly done on another ship.
If only for the reason that there is a male commander there — in the chauvinistic circles of the Imperial Starfleet, this one detail was quite enough for a lot.
But all this is lyricism.
"Even if I knew, I still wouldn't be authorized to disclose secret information," Morgot declared. "You understand."
"Absolutely," the blonde smoothed her hair again. "Have you heard about the D'Astan sector?"
Morgot nodded.
"A civil war right on your doorstep," Tanda continued. "From what I've heard, many D'Astans left the Dominion to fight on the side of the Baroness..."
"I'm sure that in such a roundabout way you want to ask me if I also want to join their number," the man said.
"See for yourself," the woman, not at all offended by being interrupted, said, "you convinced me to switch sides. And if it turns out that you, say, in a couple of weeks, resign and fly off to fight for your homeland, then I won't have even acquaintances or friends among the Dominion's command staff. I wouldn't want to learn all your fleet's 'kitchen' through trial and error of personal practical experience."
"You're wrong about acquaintances," Astorias declared. "There is at least one such ship commander in the regular fleet."
"And who?"
"Gilad Pellaeon."
The woman made a face as if she had to give a lecture on tactics to infants.
"The Chimaera," she sighed resignedly. "The Chimaera, Thrawn's flagship... I hope Pellaeon has a short memory."
"Any problems?" Morgot inquired.
"The Thunder participated in guarding the construction of the second Death Star and fought at Endor," the woman reminded. "And when Pellaeon decided to take command of the remnants of the fleet himself... Let's just say — I refused him. In a fairly simple and clear form."
"I don't see any problem," Morgot shrugged. "Your diplomatic refusals are a form of art..."
"After the battle, I was... not as diplomatic as usual."
"You told Pellaeon off?" the commander of the Stormhawk's eyes widened.
"I'd say I just pointed him in a direction," Tanda said evasively. "Certainly without outright rudeness, but I don't think he was happy to follow my advice, let alone inquire about the travel coordinates of the course I sent him on..."
"And I thought I knew you well enough," Morgot declared, finishing the contents of his bouillon bowl.
"Years have passed since our last meeting," Tanda laughed quietly. "Much changes. I think it'll be better to meet sometime for a glass of something strong and trade some good service stories."
"Of course," the man agreed. "You have my comlink frequency. As soon as you finish all the formalities and checks, call me. I'll try to carve out a couple of free days. I think we might even be assigned to the same unit..."
Her cobalt-blue eyes radiated genuine merriment.
"Probably, if that happens, I'll object," the blonde said with a smile on her face.
Morgot thought for a moment, weighing her words.
"Don't even try, Tanda," he advised. "I won't fall into that trap again."
The woman sighed feignedly and quite theatrically.
"How boring you are, Astorias," she stated. "Inviting you on a date, this way and that..."
"You know my rule, Pryl: I don't mix work with personal matters."
"How old is that rule now… Twenty years?"
"Or thereabouts."
"It was high time you edited it."
Morgot shook his head in denial.
"There are things that don't change over the years."
Blue cobalt sparkled with mischief.
"That sounded like a challenge, Captain Astorias."
"Check your hearing, Captain Pryl."
Tanda looked at him for a few more seconds, and then both laughed in restraint.
"You almost believed it," the blonde said.
"Not for a moment," the man retorted. "I've had immunity to your jokes since the Academy, Tanda."
"For the sake of decency and ethical norms, you could at least play along with a lady," the aristocrat said with feigned offense.
Morgot wagged his index finger from side to side.
"That approach won't work either, old friend. My principles are unshakable: I always see through your jokes and jabs."
"Pride is a sin," Tanda reminded him. "Where's your caf machine around here? I want to perk up before the conversation with the last grand admiral."
A barely perceptible tremor in the hull told them both that the Stormhawk had arrived at its destination.
Morgot activated the tactical holoprojector from a remote control.
"And there's Ciutric IV," he said, pointing at the holographic projection of the Dominion's capital. "You could say, 'Welcome home! '"
"That's for sure," the female officer said, her eyes scanning the ship markers. "'Two dozen destroyers, two dozen destroyers'… Well, well. I lost count of your Imperials somewhere around the fortieth. And this isn't even the whole fleet…"
"The Dominion regular fleet is just returning to bases," Morgot explained. "A little repair, then back to the front."
Tanda's face fell as she recognized the markers in orbit of the planet.
"Chimaera, Inexorable, Relentless, Devastator, Adjudicator, Stalker, Tyrant, and now Stormhawk and Thunder have arrived…" she said. "If you also had Nemesis, Avenger, Conquest, Vengeance II, a couple of battlecruisers, and an Executor-class Super Star Destroyer, then you'd have Death Squadron back at full strength… Not to mention that you have the entire Ubiqtorate fleet, plus how many destroyers! And heavy cruisers! Honest reactor—and the whole galaxy thinks Thrawn barely has a handful of ships!"
Morgot looked at his old friend with unexpected interest, realizing she had just voiced a very valuable observation.
One that he himself, for some reason, hadn't arrived at before.
Unlike her, he knew that in fact not many ships were missing from the full list…
Interesting that no one but Pryl had noticed this.
Thrawn really was reassembling Death Squadron!
And Nemesis would soon be repaired, and he even had his own Executor…
Hardly anyone knew the exact composition of the late Sith Lord's personal formation, and it was unlikely that the absence of a couple of battlecruisers and a few Victories would offend anyone's sensibilities.
But there were no such coincidences!
* * *
General Bel Iblis shook his head.
"We risk falling into Thrawn's trap yet again," he said, after Leia and Han had finished presenting their thoughts. "Postponing the strike on Lianna in order to concentrate on defending Sluis Van is extremely risky."
"The strike on Lianna is the trap," the Corellian stated confidently. "Isn't it obvious that it's no coincidence Dominion ships ended up in orbit of Ossus?"
"Based on what you've told me about Skywalker's actions, Thrawn could have been conducting archaeological excavations on that planet himself," Bel Iblis noted.
"Then why did he send only one ship, instead of bringing a whole squadron right away?" Wedge inquired. "And he reacted so quickly, too."
"That fact worried me the most," Bel Iblis admitted. "A Jedi planet—the Dominion clearly found something there. You assured me, General Antilles, that you scouted the space near Ossus and found no trace of a trap."
"That's correct."
"But then how did Thrawn arrive so promptly?" the older Corellian asked.
"I don't have an answer," Wedge admitted.
"I have a suspicion," Leia said.
"More precisely, we both do," Solo emphasized his involvement.
"I'm ready to hear it." In truth, Iblis himself had a coherent and very logical theory.
But he was in no hurry to voice it prematurely.
"Luke said that what's happening on Ossus threatens the future of the Jedi," Leia said. "More precisely… he said it differently, but I felt in the Force that he believes exactly that."
"All right, and what does that give us?" Bel Iblis asked.
"Ossus is a Jedi planet," Leia reminded him. "Thrawn has collaborated with a fallen Jedi before—Joruus C'baoth."
"A clone of a Jedi," Solo clarified.
"And that allowed him to coordinate large forces with incredible precision," Bel Iblis nodded. "You're suggesting Thrawn has more fallen Jedi?"
"Someone did attack Luke on Polis Massa, didn't they?" Solo posed a rhetorical question. "Maybe it was Palpatine's servants. Maybe it was Thrawn's own subordinates. Or maybe it was the first group, who contacted the grand admiral and are helping him with his current mission."
"I'm not sure I understand your point yet," the Corellian admitted.
"Jedi can sense danger and foresee the future," Antilles blurted out, as if a light had gone on. "Horn, at least, has bailed us out more than once with his Jedi instincts."
"So I also thought Thrawn is searching for ancient Jedi secrets in order to prepare a replacement for the killed Joruus—either from his own fallen Jedi, or perhaps a new clone of C'baoth. And that fits organically with Luke's position—if fallen Jedi get their hands on the techniques of the ancestors, Luke will never be able to defeat them and rebuild the Order as it was. Without the right knowledge, it would take years, maybe more."
"You know," Antilles said, "all these fallen Jedi and their philosophy… It really messes with your moral compass. So I'll agree with your assumption—if Thrawn has people who can use Jedi knowledge and all that jazz for their own purposes, then we should deal with this problem. The sooner the better."
"What are you talking about?" Solo asked.
"That crazy clone was messing with Corran's head," Wedge reminded him. "Let me remind you, Thrawn lured him there to throw him off the trail of Mirax and Booster. Corran was desperate to find them and charged straight ahead. And now, not only has he stopped searching, but he brushes off any conversation about it with the words: 'I sense they're alive and fine. Their rescue can wait until we destroy Thrawn.'"
The Solo couple, present as holograms, exchanged glances.
"That doesn't sound good," Leia said. "Jedi, of course, don't let their emotions lead them, but to just give up like that…"
"That guy clearly needs his head examined," Han declared.
"And you think I risked breaking orders and flew to save Skywalker from Ossus just because I was tired of hiding in the Auril sector?" Wedge blew a stray lock of hair off his forehead. "No, unlike Corran, I haven't given up—I'm still trying to find my loved ones."
"Any results?" Leia asked.
"Nothing," Antilles admitted. "It's like Thrawn stuffed them into some vault and never lets them out of his sight. Not a trace of where they might be."
A heavy silence fell among the speakers.
"Hmm," the elderly general stroked his chin, realizing he should steer the conversation back to the original topic. "So you think the dark Jedi on Ossus foresaw General Antilles's fleet attack and summoned Thrawn?"
"Yes," Councilor Organa-Solo said bluntly.
"Luke didn't just disappear on his own," her husband added an argument.
"And my subordinate also went off the grid at the same time," Bel Iblis reminded them, frowning.
"Maybe she's already dead," Antilles suggested.
"Same as Skywalker," the former senator noted.
"I think Thrawn would try to take my brother alive," Leia said, doubt in her voice. "He's a prominent hero of the Rebellion, and a Jedi besides… From what we've seen, Thrawn doesn't act wastefully. A prisoner of that importance is valuable alive. He could exchange him to Palpatine for some concessions for himself and his people—assuming, of course, that it was Palpatine's people who pursued my brother on Polis Massa."
"Or exchange him for some guarantees for himself," Han offered. "As much from Palpatine as from the New Republic."
"We already know what he wants," Bel Iblis grimaced. "Honestly, I had a theory that Thrawn was using the methods of Warlord Zsinj. General Antilles, do you remember when you encountered those parasite droids?"
The young general standing next to the commander flinched.
"Those little infiltrators destroyed more than one of our bases," he recalled.
"Perhaps Thrawn has revived the project," Bel Iblis speculated. "But that's a bare theory based on the assumptions of the late Admiral Ackbar and the surviving crew of Home One. Without obtaining droid samples, we can't say anything concrete about where and how Thrawn might strike next."
"Actually, that's not entirely true," Councilor Organa-Solo said vaguely. "The fact is, during our last meeting with him, Thrawn offered one of us to become a traitor—to reveal the position of the Lusankya in exchange for a series of proposals from his side."
"You didn't mention this earlier, Councilor," Bel Iblis noted. "However, I don't blame you. In that situation, it would have only complicated things further. Hmm… In effect, we're no longer hiding the position of the Lusankya—hardly anyone in the galaxy doesn't know it's being repaired at Rendili. If Thrawn had enough strength, he would have attacked and taken the Super Star Destroyer for himself. But it seems he either fears heavy losses or isn't as strong as he tries to appear."
"Exactly why shouldn't we fool the puppet master?" Han Solo asked.
"How?" Bel Iblis inquired. "Luring him to Rendili is a dead end. The defenses there are too good for him to believe he could win against the local fleet and defensive stations."
"Rendili isn't needed," Wedge suddenly declared. "Is the Lusankya in combat‑ready condition?"
"Relatively," Bel Iblis grimaced. He seemed to understand where the conversation was heading. "A few main engines still need to be installed. Are you suggesting we bring her out somewhere under a plausible pretext and inform Thrawn that we're ready to hand over the ship in exchange for Skywalker?"
"Given how obsessed Thrawn is with getting Imperial ships under his control—he might just take the bait," Antilles stated.
"The problem is that the crew for the Lusankya hasn't been fully assembled," Bel Iblis said. "As it happens, I have a meeting with the ship's future commander today. The Lusankya can fight, of course, but not as her creators intended. Low spatial maneuverability makes her a tempting target."
"Do we really need her to maneuver?" General Solo clarified. "We can always find a fleet to cover her—they'll bear the brunt of facing Thrawn's fleet, and he'll certainly come at the head of a whole armada. All we need from the Lusankya is her guns."
"You're forgetting one thing," Bel Iblis declared. "According to reports from surviving crew members of Home One, Thrawn already has one Super Star Destroyer of that type in his reserves. Plus a fast dreadnought—the Crimson Dawn. At the Battle of Soulex, Thrawn didn't hesitate to send the first one into battle—even though it was damaged. A lot of time has passed since then—he could have patched up that tub properly, and then we'd have to fight with truly enormous forces. By the most conservative estimates, the grand admiral currently commands up to five hundred starships of various types and classes. Not to mention that we still haven't found the source of his intelligence inside the Imperial Palace. Our whole scheme could end in another disaster."
"Are you suggesting we wait until Thrawn crews his ships, patches up his own Executor, not to mention he also has a Torpedo Sphere besides everything else?" Wedge clarified. "When he gathers his strength, I doubt we'll be able to lure him into a trap so easily with small forces."
Bel Iblis was silent for a while.
"We need to do serious preparatory work," he pronounced. "Coordinate with Mon Mothma, finally. I'll need several hundred star cruisers to guarantee superiority over Thrawn's forces—at least based on the number of ships we've recorded over the last five months."
"Isn't waging war exclusively your competence?" Han Solo asked.
"That's not the issue," the elderly Corellian said, looking at Leia. "I think your wife understands what I mean."
"Like no one else," the Alderaanian said with a sad smile. "Right now, the Senate and most councilors are in disarray and panic. The New Republic is going through a serious crisis. The Bothans have already shown they intend to contend for power, but for now they—and others—have stepped into the background. They're essentially letting Mon Mothma handle all the problems alone."
"And, as a result, she bears the responsibility for the defeats," Bel Iblis continued. "And we've had many more of those than successes."
"Well, we did deal with the Ubiqtorate," Wedge noted.
"Not us," the Corellian cut him off. "Kaine broadcasting about the complete destruction of the organization and the effective disarray of Imperial intelligence services doesn't mean that's what actually happened or is happening. Everything that's going on could be just more disinformation, aimed at landing a heavier blow. That's why the Provisional Government is reluctant to take on that responsibility. We already tried to claim the laurels of victors over Thrawn—and he gave us a response that made the New Republic a laughingstock. Mon Mothma doesn't want to risk it again—and the operation with the Lusankya has to be planned and executed perfectly. Otherwise, it will be the collapse of the entire current Provisional Government."
"As soon as the crisis caused by Thrawn ends, the Bothans will happily use our defeats to gain votes in the New Republic presidential elections," Leia explained. "Right now, while things are bad, it's convenient to throw all the rancors onto Mothma. The Bothans already got burned trying to seize power—now they and the rest will wait for the storm to pass."
"If it passes," Antilles clarified.
"Otherwise, we have no choice," Bel Iblis said firmly. "The Alliance and the New Republic have given too much to achieve what we have now. We can't let it all fall apart."
"Not to mention that somewhere out there, Palpatine is preparing to attack," Han Solo declared.
"I am taking measures to protect the Core Worlds," his fellow Corellian stated. "Palpatine, Thrawn, or any other Imperial who dares attack us again will bitterly regret his actions in that direction."
"So we just wait?" Han Solo asked with a sour expression.
"By no means," Bel Iblis declared. "Your plan with the Lusankya is quite promising. I think we should add a few levels of insurance and try to present its essence to Mon Mothma. If we approach the operation with healthy paranoia, it might work. Whether we kill Thrawn or inflict a significant defeat on his forces—it will show the entire galaxy that we haven't given up."
"In that case, what about Lianna and Sluis Van?" General Antilles inquired. "We can't handle three full-scale campaigns."
"Not with free forces, certainly," Bel Iblis agreed. "If we defeat Thrawn in the Lusankya operation, the next strike should be at Lianna. And in that case, Sluis Van won't be threatened at all."
"But that doesn't remove the need to continue work on modernizing and repairing ships," Solo said resignedly.
"Exactly," Bel Iblis agreed. "I see no point in pulling forces away from the attack on Lianna for the Lusankya. The best course is to continue making it look like we're preparing the Lusankya for a strike on Lianna—and use her departure from the shipyards as a pretext for the final test."
"Which means we'll have to take ships from other fleets," Wedge noted.
"We'll cover it with the story that they're needed for the attack on Lianna," the elderly Corellian declared. "In the end, we'll have blocking forces right under Santhe's nose that can begin the first phase of the operation after we defeat Thrawn. And once that happens, we'll join the first armada with the second, attack Lianna, capture it and the nearest Imperial Remnants, and move on to the campaign against the Dominion."
"Thrawn won't have time to react to multiple attacks," Solo said. "We simply have more ships than he does."
"First we need to get them," Bel Iblis noted. "And make sure all these movements go unnoticed by Thrawn himself. And in the Palace, that's extremely difficult to do…"
"Hmm," the youngest general of the New Republic brushed his hair back again. "I think the Lusankya can be used as a trap for several purposes at once."
"Isard?" Organa-Solo understood instantly.
"If her stories are to be believed, her clone is working with Thrawn," Wedge said. "Iella suspects the real Isard will try to seize the Lusankya. If Palpatine really is alive, the Iceheart will try to curry favor with him by bringing the ship. Consequently, she also doesn't want us to put the Super Star Destroyer into service against the Empire. So she'll try to capture the ship before the crew arrives. The Lusankya's automation allows it to be operated by a miniscule number of crew members."
"An interesting combination," Bel Iblis said thoughtfully. "We lure Thrawn to a meeting to exchange the Lusankya for Skywalker. Isard will clearly be against such an exchange, so she'll try to seize the starship before it reaches the grand admiral. Therefore, with the right skill, we can capture her, then proceed to the rendezvous point with Thrawn, try to defeat him. And once we do that, Isard's clone will clearly try to seize power in the Dominion."
"Such is the nasty character of her donor," Antilles spread his hands.
"And while Thrawn and Isard's clone are dividing power, we'll strike at Lianna, deprive Thrawn of one of his largest allies, and then deal with the Dominion itself," Leia proposed.
"That sounds like a plan," Bel Iblis agreed. "Well then, we'll work it out—as quickly as possible. I think you and I, General Antilles, should go see Councilor Mon Mothma. Right now. Because if she approves our scheme, then in an hour I'll need to instruct the Lusankya's commander on how he should proceed."
* * *
Grand Moff Kaine's hologram flickered.
"That was a mistake, Thrawn," the man said.
"On the contrary," I countered. "The destruction of the Ubiqtorate is a very useful action, both for the Dominion and for the Pentastar Alignment."
"I'm not arguing that the Ubiqtorate and its total control were hindering me," Ardus declared. "But giving all the credit for that work to the New Republic… That is a mistake!"
"There's no mistake here," I countered. "The New Republic ships' attack on the Ubiqtorate arsenal and stations is further confirmation that they are indeed operating in Alignment space. Sooner or later, the Emperor or his minions would have started asking questions about why you were losing transports and escort ships while no one was seeing the enemy in action."
"I understand that I needed that insurance, but the New Republic is protesting too vehemently that they had nothing to do with the actions against the Ubiqtorate. Which is rather strange on their part."
"Actually, it's quite logical, including their denial."
"They didn't pass up the chance to claim credit for defeating your fleet, but they secretly destroyed the Ubiqtorate and then didn't boast about how great their agents were?" the Grand Moff asked skeptically. "That's hardly in the Republican style."
"On the contrary, it fits with their growing experience. They were careless enough to brag about their 'successes' before—and got into trouble afterward. Now, having eliminated a threat to themselves from the Ubiqtorate, they're staying quiet to avoid problems and buy time—time we would need to investigate the situation."
"Thin," Kaine grimaced. "Secret, large‑scale, and highly effective—that's far too much like your style of work. The New Republic is probably still in shock that someone managed to wipe out the Ubiqtorate and doesn't know how to live with it going forward. Palpatine is mad, but there are definitely sharp people around him. We'll need to somehow confirm this version further…"
"Allow me to take care of ensuring that the Emperor and his circle pay as little attention as possible to the New Republic's excuses," I reminded him unobtrusively. "How has the defeat of the Ubiqtorate changed the balance of power inside the Alignment?"
"So far, no one has contacted me," Kaine replied. "Previously, Agent Blackhole gave instructions and passed on orders. He hasn't been in contact now. No one of a similar rank, or anyone identifying themselves as the Emperor's plenipotentiary representative, has shown up."
"Continue doing the same work as before…"
"Don't order me around, Thrawn," the Grand Moff snapped back without real malice, cutting off my speech.
Ugly.
Emotional.
"That was not an order—merely advice to maintain a position demonstrating your loyalty to Palpatine's cause," I noted softly, understanding the man was on edge. Losing all the puppet masters at once (and most of the Ubiqtorate agents had been destroyed by the Noghri and Dominion intelligence directly in Alignment territory, where they had dug in), effectively contributing to their destruction by providing aid in the secret movements of raiding parties—that was a nerve‑racking process.
Especially when your own life and cause were at stake.
"I know," Kaine said listlessly. "I got carried away."
"It's nothing," I declared. "How much did the defectors from Ennix Devian's factions and ×1 replenish your 'losses'?"
"About thirty percent," Ardus stated. "Diehard fanatics, unscrupulous butchers... I don't know where Devian pulled them from, but I haven't met such ardent champions of the New Order in about twenty years. I'd like to stuff them onto the finished 'Dragons' and send them into battle as soon as possible."
"My forces are just finishing off the remnants of Devian's group, clearing out his bases across the galaxy," I explained. "I can provide roughly the same number of soldiers and fleet specialists within the next week."
I was flawlessly executing the previously concluded multi-faceted agreement to transfer to Kaine those Imperials who wouldn't want to serve the Dominion.
I have no need to keep tens of thousands of people on hand who suffer from an organic intolerance to the righteous cause. Kaine, on the other hand, needs something to crew the ships he's building for Palpatine.
At the same time, we're running operations where he supplies me with the necessary types of equipment, hardware, and cargo—procured all over the galaxy—under the guise of transport convoys guarded by troops and starships loyal to him.
The "New Republic" constantly attacked these convoys, capturing more and more ships, 'destroying' the escort vessels.
Kaine was slowly accumulating his forces on Devian's former base—the planetoid RZ7-6113-23. Yes, as a long-term storage depot, forgotten and secret, it's excellent, but it's located too far from my perimeter.
I have enough 'colonies' beyond the metropolis without spending effort on maintaining that base as well.
Let Kaine use it in good health.
Through such simple manipulations, I obtained everything necessary for repairing and modernizing my fleet while reverse-engineering factories were being built and our own factories were being set up.
Kaine got the chance to hide a portion of the fleet that he would undoubtedly need if the mad Emperor decided to get rid of him.
And the thugs from the traitor factions I crushed... Well, I won't miss them.
Fanatics have always and in every era been used only as cannon fodder to preserve valuable troops.
Even in a galaxy far, far away, this principle still works.
"Oh, by the way," Kaine brightened slightly. "I never did thank you for Kril'Dor. My forces have already restored the tibanna mining station that your boys pulled from its usual orbit and hid in the gas clouds. It got pretty banged up, of course, but better than nothing."
"And the most important thing is having the tibanna source right under your nose," I added another argument.
"I'd have preferred dealing with good old Bespin," Kaine admitted. "Too bad you didn't capture it..."
No, not bad at all.
We took exactly what we needed—truly colossal volumes of tibanna, enough to supply our fleet for the next few years of economical use.
Of course, that's an ideal picture—economizing in war leads to defeat in it.
Despite its weak defenses, capturing Bespin was strategically disadvantageous.
It's one of the largest tibanna suppliers in the galaxy. And an ally of the New Republic, at that.
Losing it, Coruscant would throw everything they have to retake the planet.
And, as far as I know, extraordinary measures have now been taken to defend the planet.
Just like for the defense of Balmorra, the local government went all out, expanding the production of modern droids and assembling several dozen defense stations in orbit.
Coruscant itself is preparing to bristle with the latest Golan platforms, turning the planet into a tough nut to crack.
According to intelligence reports, despite the massive migration of numerous senators, officials, wealthy industrialists, affluent citizens, and a huge pile of their employees, families, servants, and even slaves to their homeworlds, I couldn't completely 'depopulate' the planet in anticipation of Palpatine's advance.
Bel Iblis had drawn the right conclusions, and the planet's defense was being put into proper order. The government was spending enormous amounts of money to demonstrate its competence in restoring the planet—and this instilled in a small percentage of the population the belief that everything would be alright.
A trend towards reverse migration was even observable—from other worlds back to Coruscant.
This goes against my plan to reduce casualties from Palpatine's bloody capture of the planet. Because, as far as I remember from the reference materials I read, after capturing Coruscant, the Imperials ruthlessly destroyed a huge number of people. Palpatine's troops literally marched over corpses towards their goals. And during the occupation period, they engaged in exterminating anything alive and undesirable.
This led to Coruscant essentially dying out as a planet, where you once couldn't move for the population, for a long time.
I really hope that in the foreseeable future, a less bloody massacre will occur on Coruscant.
The New Republic, even if inertially, is still drawing some conclusions from our confrontation.
It's renewing its military vessel fleet, significantly accelerating the construction of the newest star cruisers.
True, they're still habitually preparing to modernize a large number of relics...
Well, soon they'll realize their efforts were in vain.
All these preparations, along with many others, will allow the New Republic to thoroughly fray the nerves and armed forces of Palpatine when he comes to capture those worlds.
Weakening both enemies... Quick, simple, and always works.
"Holding Bespin with the forces I have is quite difficult," I stated. "However, if you need that planet so badly, you're always free to run your own campaign to capture it."
"No, I have enough with Kril'Dor," Kaine grinned. "It's perfectly sufficient for supplying my armed forces and fleet."
Then what's the point?
Why kill a bantha if you don't need that much meat and wool?
Ah, right—if you're not the one hunting it, then why not, isn't that so?
We shouldn't forget that the alliance with Kaine is nothing more than a partnership. Ardus, like most Imperials, is a master of pulling chestnuts out of the fire with someone else's hands.
"So, am I to understand that those Vindicator-class cruisers and gravity well generators you got from me are part of one project?" Kaine inquired.
I stared intently at the hologram.
Why was he so interested in what I planned to do with the acquired technology? He has a promise not to interfere in the affairs of the Pentastar Alignment, and I'm loath to break my given word.
At least, not until I'm attacked first.
"Alright, alright, you don't have to answer," Kaine grimaced. "It's just... a small prelude to the key question."
"Which one exactly?" I asked.
"You do know that the Ubiqtorate was the restraining force that prevented many hotheads from deserting and going over to your service?" the Grand Moff inquired.
Ah, so that's the problem...
We discussed this issue in the past.
From a slightly different angle.
"I don't think such trends are widespread," I said diplomatically. "A few crews, a dozen at most, might be discussing such possibilities, but few would risk it. The Ubiqtorate is too well known for its secretive and convoluted schemes for the military to suddenly believe in its destruction—no matter who reports it."
"You're right there," the Grand Moff nodded. "However, I have data indicating that a few crews are nonetheless preparing to desert to the Dominion."
"From the Pentastar Alignment?" I clarified.
"Including that," Kaine confirmed. "I think you understand that this sets a dangerous precedent."
I understand perfectly.
If the authorities don't take measures against deserters, it could happen on a mass scale. And it will occur with enviable regularity until everyone who wants to has realized their dream.
A dangerous situation.
I have enough ships in both the regular fleet and the sector security forces—far more than I have trained and cohesive crews.
That's actually why the same formations are essentially on the front lines.
And right now, Kaine is hinting that he intends to propose a constructive solution to the current problem.
I'm sure it will cost me something.
At a minimum, I can be sure Kaine will try to slip me double agents.
Ever since the Jensaarai began taking a practical part in the life of the Dominion, working at customs and using the Force to intercept scout ships and identify enemy spies among migrants and defectors, my created state seemed to have shielded itself behind a duracrete curtain. The enemy might get data about us, but only for a very short time—after all, our counterintelligence doesn't eat nerf meat for nothing.
Still, there's a chance I might receive at least partially trained and prepared crews that I can easily use to crew the 'idle' ships.
The cloning cylinders can't keep up with the increased demands of the ships.
Endlessly using droids to replace missing crew parts isn't right either.
Modernizing starships to the 'three' variant isn't going quickly either—our production hasn't even reached peak load for supplying the necessary spare parts. At the most generous estimate, by the end of this year, I'll have at best a dozen 'threes'.
And there are a very, very large number of 'Imperial' ships.
But until the problem with Palpatine and the threat to the Dominion is resolved, I can't risk handing over ship modernization projects to third-party shipyards.
'Leaks' happen far too often in such places.
Some data is expected to be divulged by workers and become enemy knowledge, but the key secrets will still have to be guarded as long as possible.
So, I face the threat that a significant portion of the ships will have to be kept in working but mothballed condition.
This is unacceptable in light of the upcoming struggle for survival.
And the finale of Operation 'Crimson Dawn' isn't far off either.
"The situation is ambiguous," I stated. "We both understand the consequences of ignoring desertion. But forcibly trying to hold back those who want to switch sides won't contribute to political stability either."
"I've been thinking about that too," Kaine nodded. "I don't have any particular problem with letting the crews go—they'll figure out how to slip away anyway. The problem is, if this happens openly, the publicity could do serious harm."
"And attract unwanted attention from Palpatine," I agreed. "I suspect you already have a suitable proposal, don't you?"
Otherwise, he wouldn't have started this conversation.
"Can't have you always getting something from me," Kaine smirked. "I propose organizing a convoy of potential deserters. I'll send them straight into your hands—on the ships they currently have. Another attack by the New Republic won't surprise anyone, I suppose..."
"Let's assume," I agreed. "And what do you want in return?"
Kaine smirked crookedly.
"A service, Thrawn," said the Grand Moff. "Just a service..."
And what he said next was definitely not to my liking...
* * *
Admiral Argentis Duplex was a Zeltron who had long since outgrown the stage of carefree youth.
Few Zeltron of his age still retain the usual vibrancy of their hair, but the man had been through too much to be embarrassed by his graying.
He was past his fourth decade, but still full of strength and energy, tactical mastery, and the adventurism characteristic of his race.
In nature, these qualities rarely coexist comfortably, which is why many Zeltron often find themselves in absurd, and sometimes frankly dangerous, situations.
From the latter, in fact, Argentis's entire life consisted.
Admiral Argentis Duplex (New Republic)
He began his career even before the Clone Wars, as an officer in the Judicial Forces.
Unlike his kin, raised in strictness and discipline, he had walked the path of serving the state from an early age.
By the time the Grand Army of the Republic began battling the droid armadas, he had already become the commander of an Acclamator-class assault cruiser.
He had been in dozens of battles, seen death, and dealt it himself.
He endured spiritual crises and successfully overcame hardships.
By the time Supreme Chancellor Palpatine declared himself Emperor, the honest and hardworking officer had earned well-deserved honor and respect among his battle comrades.
He managed to command a Victory-class Star Destroyer before the tenets of the New Order reached the armed forces as well.
No one even tried to maintain a semblance of decency—they threw him off the ship's bridge, sneering contemptuously at his back.
Non-humans, even of humanoid appearance, were not particularly welcome in the newly formed Galactic Empire.
And after even the people who had been part of his crew, who had gone through the Clone Wars under his command, turned away from their commander, Argentus decided to leave the service.
The betrayal of his crew was the last straw. Having risen to the rank of Admiral, commanding a squadron that successfully destroyed pirates in the Outer Rim, Argentis Duplex left the Imperial Navy forever.
Without the right to wear the uniform, without the privileges of a military pension.
The Empire simply erased a significant part of his life.
Argentis bought a farm and lived there for several years before old non-human comrades, who had joined the Rebel Alliance, contacted him.
After several years of deliberation, he joined the rebels.
And he fought very successfully against his former comrades-in-arms.
Admiral Ackbar appointed him to command the Second Fleet, where he had an impressive squadron of Mon Calamari star cruisers under his command.
And now, sitting before the Supreme Commander, General Bel Iblis, the Zeltron suspected that the upcoming conversation would directly concern his imminent appointment as commander of the Lusankya.
"What is the crew readiness percentage, Admiral?" Bel Iblis asked without preamble, settling behind his desk.
"Forty percent," Argentis replied just as quickly. "By the scheduled time, I'll bring the crew's complement and training up to sixty or seventy percent. As soon as the engines are installed on the Super Star Destroyer, we'll be ready for maneuvers and combat coordination."
"That sounds optimistic," the Corellian grimaced.
"That's an accurate calculation, General," the Zeltron objected.
"I know," Bel Iblis agreed. "The problem is, we don't actually have that much time."
Argentis remained silent, understanding that regardless of whether he asked questions or not, the Supreme Commander would brief him only as much as necessary.
"I just came from a meeting with the Provisional Government," Bel Iblis stated. "We have more adjustments to the plan. The Lusankya will have to participate in a battle ahead of schedule."
"In that case, I cannot guarantee the crew's coordinated work," the admiral warned. "Most of them are recruits. Veterans make up less than three percent, and most of those are gunners."
"I understand that, Admiral," the Corellian said conciliatorily. "We have a week, two at most, to organize secret transfers of the best of the best from all fleets. For the most part, we'll start with the crews of ships stationed at Sluis Van. If the upcoming operation succeeds, we'll free our people from captivity and destroy the Dominion..."
"Are we starting a campaign against Grand Admiral Thrawn?" Argentis asked with interest.
"Exactly," Bel Iblis confirmed. "And I need your crew, Admiral, to be ready for the most serious pounding you can imagine. We have no room for error—either we win, or we fail with such a resounding crash that it will mark the beginning of the end for the New Republic."
"I'm listening, General." Argentis settled in more comfortably, preparing for the upcoming briefing.
The cost of a single battle had never been so high.