Ten years, first month, and tenth day after the Battle of Yavin…
Or the forty-fifth year, first month, and tenth day after the Great Resynchronization.
(Seven months and twenty tenth-day cycles since the arrival.)
The comlink erupted with the familiar sound of an incoming call, like a telephone ringing.
"I'm listening," I said, looking up from reading the intelligence report.
"Sir, this is Captain Tschel," the slightly flustered voice of the young Star Destroyer commander was hard to mistake. "We've arrived at the designated point in space."
"Good, Captain," I said. "Order the Eternal Wrath to activate gravity trawls along the vector they have. The air wing is to prepare for launch. As soon as our 'guests' appear, have them disable the ship immediately per Scheme Two."
Which meant damaging the engines so the starship couldn't escape the gravity trap.
"Should I inform the other squads to stand down?"
"Absolutely not, Captain," I warned. "We're intercepting a target that could be moving in any direction. Especially one using a captured starship. That kind of thing can't be allowed to become standard practice. So we'll continue to bide our time."
"Yes, sir," the ship's commander reported. "Should we expect you on the bridge?"
"In ten minutes, Captain," I replied, and signed off.
Well…
There are pleasant things — like the reports on "Mount Doom" and there are "not so pleasant" ones.
One of our escort frigates was attacked and captured at a course correction point for the transition from Nez Peron to Axlila.
Based on what the crew members managed to report, they were attacked by pirates operating fighter forces.
They also had a carrier-transport.
Which was also a troop carrier.
The ship was primarily crewed by droids; there were barely a dozen clones as "live" crew members.
An easy target.
But that's exactly how it needed to be when you're fishing with live bait.
So, personally, it didn't strike me as strange that the ship had broken away from the convoy and exited hyperspace ahead of schedule.
The speed at which contact was lost and its subsequent movements pointed to certain conclusions.
There are things to learn from the enemy.
For example, General Garm Bel Iblis, expecting me to attack Sluis Van using substitution transports, equipped his ships with additional transponders that allowed their movements to be tracked.
After Sluis Van, considering that our upgraded escort frigates were crossing nearly half the galaxy, protecting supply transports, and facing a new turn of treachery in the conflict, I secretly ordered the guards to install additional beacons on the escorts.
And, to be honest, I expected one of the ships moving from the periphery toward the metropolis to be captured.
But the enemy chose as their target a starship delivering cargo between the Dominion via Axlila to Nez Peron.
Considering the report from the guards in the D'Astan sector, a rather interesting picture was emerging about why the stolen escort frigate was now moving north along the Hydian Way.
Given the various probabilities of the beacon being detected, there was no choice but to alert the regular fleet and assign the interception mission.
The Chimaera and the Eternal Wrath were the last line in this net.
And it was directly up to us whether we caught what the pirates had stolen or not.
I had a feeling we would catch it.
Because even the most carefully laid plans fall apart due to incompetent execution.
I knew that from experience, because the "fugitive" had already passed one interception line, solely because the ships arrived at their designated position late.
There was definitely room for improvement.
Well, now to continue reading the report on how Baroness D'Asta was kidnapped.
* * *
The Kabul Estate had been the residence of the family of the same name since its construction.
Located on the planet Otunia, a world rich in mineral resources that had long been in desolation and ruin after Arista Kabul and her associates blew up the mines, this estate was once again becoming the political and industrial center of the Bosph sector.
And at the head of this magnificent conglomerate was not a flighty girl, whom her dim-witted father had prophesied as his successor, but he, Seth Kabul, the blood brother of the deceased Lorn Kabul.
Did he feel any pangs of conscience for depriving his niece of her inheritance?
No, he did not.
A twenty-year-old girl, even one who knew the workings of the entire "Kabul Industries" consortium, was in no way suited to managing an enterprise with multi-billion annual turnovers.
Her action — blowing up the mines — only proved that she didn't understand what business was or why enterprises existed.
Who cared that the workers' wages had been cut when Seth came to power?
There were still no other places in the entire Bosph sector where a worker could earn in a shift what they were paid under Seth before the mines were blown up.
Yes, they were paid even less now, but that wasn't his fault — it was the fault of the flighty girl who fancied herself an avenger.
Neither she nor her father understood that "Kabul Industries," with all the liberal changes Lorn and Arista had implemented — like fraternizing with convicts, raising their salaries, building housing for workers near their workplaces — was a waste of time.
Why build housing for a worker if he had a salary? If he wanted to work and live near his workplace, let him rent housing.
Why should the one paying the worker's wages be concerned with the problems of that hired personnel?
It was far too wasteful for the company's budget — providing miners with necessary materials and equipment, insuring them, paying overtime, insurance, pensions, and covering their medical treatment.
What nonsense was that?
Miners got paid for their work — let them spend it on their own needs!
They'd turned the enterprise into some kind of almshouse for every whiner!
Seth Kabul.
Seth had spent a very long time persuading his brother to abandon all these "innovations" that were a heavy burden on the corporation's shoulders.
But Lorn wouldn't listen.
All he did was improve the miners' living conditions — miners who, like a nexu catching the scent of fresh blood, rushed to the trough upon hearing about cheap company housing, full insurance packages, and other benefits, huge bonuses…
At some point, there were more miners than needed, and instead of meeting his obligations to the Empire, which had allowed him to operate on its territory, Lorn Kabul chose to stuff Moff Harsh with promises that he would repay everything a hundredfold.
Instead, he kept opening new and new mines, setting up miners' living conditions in new places, reducing profits to such paltry sums that, one day, the Empire's patience ran out.
Harsh reached out to Seth, knowing his position differed from the company founder's opinion.
The sector Moff, realizing that dialogue with Lorn was pointless, turned to his younger brother.
He explained clearly and directly that either "Kabul Industries" would start paying its debts to the Empire — and the sooner, the better — or the Moff's forces would nationalize the company and regain control of the sector's mining and metallurgy sectors.
There wasn't even a need to hint at what would happen to the family in that case — all of them, as violators of Imperial law, faced the Kessel prison.
Lorn, Arista, and even Seth himself would have been sent there, because family members were at the head of all key operations of the family corporation.
Long negotiations and discussions, Seth's attempts to reason with his brother, came to nothing.
And then he made his decision.
Having made a deal with the Moff, he eliminated (as painful as it was for him) his brother and seized control of the corporation.
By halting all minor payments, cutting wages, introducing rent for miners living in company-built housing, Seth quickly raised the entire sum of the long-standing debts and cleared them with the Empire.
Realizing he couldn't hold onto power alone, he made a new arrangement with Moff Harsh, paying him a substantial sum to have Imperial troops ensure the security of the corporation's facilities and suppress riots.
They were just a few days too late — Arista, thought killed in the mine explosion along with her father, was alive.
Together with her accomplices, she blew up the mines, dooming "Kabul Industries" to bankruptcy.
Because Seth simply didn't have the money to clear the mines.
He turned to Moff Harsh for help, but Harsh just brushed him off — the Battle of Endor had recently raged.
The Empire was rapidly falling apart, and every Moff wanted to grab their piece of the common delicacy.
It cost Seth incredible effort to slowly restore the corporation and its mines.
Moff Harsh withdrew his troops to aid the warlord Zsinj…
And only after Zsinj was finally defeated did Harsh return to his familiar territories.
Along with his Star Destroyer, The Cauldron.
And the stormtroopers who quickly brought order to Otunia's population, proving to them that when faced with the dilemma of working to clear the mines for a bowl of soup or being shot, there weren't that many options.
Harsh was the embodiment of cruelty, and Seth, despite his position on cutting miners' expenses, which had dissatisfied all the workers a few years earlier, suddenly became the embodiment of peace and justice for the miners.
After all, he at least offered the miners wages for their labor, however meager.
Logically, after several bloody uprisings, drowned in the fire of blasters by Moff Harsh's stormtroopers, the workers of "Kabul Industries" preferred to silently tolerate Seth's policies.
And if they suspected that the whole thing was a carefully staged performance, they had enough sense left not to say it out loud.
Seth waited patiently for the holographic projector to work properly, displaying a volumetric projection of his associate.
Finally, the device started working as it should.
"What do you want, Kabul?" Moff Harsh inquired without any preamble, with his characteristic arrogant haughtiness.
Tall and powerfully built, with sharp, one might even say aggressive, facial features, this pale-skinned man, by his very appearance, instilled fear in those he spoke with.
Despite holding a prominent position and commanding vast forces, Harsh, as few knew, was an excellent fighter, masterfully handling almost all types of weapons.
And he was also an exceptional pilot.
His policy of harsh, and at times cruel, treatment of subordinates was received by the inhabitants of the Bosph sector with nothing short of dread.
Moff Harsh.
Even though the Empire had fallen, and the Moff himself, like several of his comrades ruling the territories closest to the Corporate Sector, had sympathized with none of the major Imperial Remnants after Zsinj's fall, they behaved as if Endor had never happened.
And since the Empire seized control of Coruscant, reclaiming almost all the Core Worlds from the rebels, Harsh had become fiendishly irritable as well.
Even towards his business partner, who lined his pockets with money and provided his partners in the Corporate Sector with the necessary minerals absolutely free of charge.
No, Seth certainly received money from the corporates and Harsh.
Very, very large sums, at that.
But by cutting miners' wages and completely eliminating the company's bureaucratic apparatus (why did he need one when he had only one client?), he was accumulating a vast amount of cash in a huge safe in the basement, periodically converting it into more liquid precious metals and art objects.
"Moff, glad to see you in good health," Seth smiled sourly. "I hasten to inform you that clearing the debris at all Otunia mines is complete. By the end of this month, the corporates will receive all the positions they've requested."
"Good," Harsh said irritably. "Is that the only reason you bothered me?"
'I wonder what you're even doing if you left the sector?' Seth thought irritably.
"No, of course not," Kabul said. "I was working through my brother's old records, regarding the planets he surveyed…"
"Copies, you mean," Harsh smirked caustically. "The originals, as I recall, were stolen from you?"
"Yes," the leader of "Kabul Industries" ground his teeth. "Copies…"
The theft was committed by "unknown persons" who had broken into the house a couple of days ago while the man himself was at a facility where a gas explosion had occurred.
It turned out to be sabotage.
No one was hurt, but upon returning home, Kabul saw that his brother's papers, directly concerning the development of various metal deposits on planets barely surveyed in the sector but clearly lacking intelligent life on their surfaces, were gone.
And while the security cameras hadn't caught the burglars' faces, one grotesque figure out of three was familiar to him.
As was a tiny Jawa.
Well, and he identified his niece's slender figure by process of elimination.
Obviously, his niece was taking revenge on him for setting bounty hunters on her.
How else could it be?
The company had only just risen from the ashes, and Arista would clearly want to trample him back into the dirt.
Harsh and his Star Destroyer The Cauldron, along with most of his stormtroopers, had vanished somewhere, and his fool of a niece and her terrorist partners would certainly be willing to set off a few more explosions at the mines just to spite him.
If only she would slip up just once, and her actions would lead to the death of some sentients — then the locals would definitely turn her in!
But the girl was clearly being cautious.
Never mind!
He would double the bounty on her head — dead or alive.
And there would be so many hunters eager to relieve Seth of this headache that she wouldn't be happy she'd survived.
Unlike her father.
"So," Seth continued, "my brother's records indicate several volcanic worlds, like Mustafar, where open-pit mining could be established…"
"Get to the point," Harsh demanded.
"I need two billion to set up the necessary facilities there and bring in suitable personnel…"
"Well, get on with it then," Harsh said irritably. "You have the money, don't deny it. So invest it."
"I thought your partners…"
"Thinking is not your job," Harsh snapped. "Others do the thinking for you. You're just a talking head running the enterprise. Found a good planet for mining? Good for you. Now invest the money and develop it while I finish up with the miners in the Chiloon Rift. And don't forget, escorts will be arriving soon for last month's metal shipment. The transfer of the ore ships and the return of the empty freighters will happen at the same place as before."
"But—" Seth tried to protest, but Harsh waved his hand, clearly slamming his fist on his device.
"Conversation is over, Kabul! Get to work! I'll be back in a month and check up on you. If you haven't started mining by then, you're finished. That's all. End transmission."
With that, the hologram faded.
Seth sat in bewilderment for a while over Harsh's words.
"Chiloon Rift?" he grimaced, recalling the place the willful Moff had mentioned.
Nothing came to mind.
Seth rarely left the borders of the Bosph sector, so he had no idea where the astronomical object Harsh had mentioned might be located.
However, that didn't preclude him from satisfying his curiosity by looking into an astrogation guide.
"Oh, I see," Seth Kabul said fifteen minutes later, after a thorough search, now possessing a considerable amount of information regarding the Chiloon Rift the Moff had mentioned.
According to the astrogation chart, that place was a nebula located in Quadrant O-3, practically on the galaxy's edge.
The quadrant itself was situated at the junction of several sectors — the eastern part of Mieru'kar and the western part of Korva.
But, judging by the approximate boundaries of the nebula, its edges were still located near Mieru'kar.
And the latter was Dominion territory, which had, in fact, isolated itself from the entire galaxy and was quite belligerent.
And over the past few months, it had not only announced its formation to the galaxy but had also grown its territory considerably.
While also thinning out the pirates and slavers quite effectively.
It was no wonder that the local population of the galactic rim sectors, suffering from an influx of such lawlessness, was practically throwing themselves at the feet of the Dominionites, begging to join them.
And nobody cared that Imperials were in charge there — in the Outer Rim, in the years following Endor, security was valued far more than any ruling regime.
Especially since the Dominion had given the former rebels a proper thrashing.
The very ones who, back when they captured Coruscant, had also promised security and stability.
Though their promises never amounted to anything.
And the people in the Outer Rim were usually quite sensitive to deception.
When they were promised something that wasn't delivered, they had a habit of telling the liars to get lost and taking power into their own hands.
The visit of a man who claimed to represent the interests of a young, rapidly developing state that wouldn't mind incorporating Bosph into its fold immediately came to mind.
Seth hadn't even listened, mockingly advising them to discuss it with the Corporate Sector's board.
For his part, he expressed a wish, saying he would be ready to go against the corporates and Harsh, provided his niece was delivered to him.
Of course, he was lying — none of those people would let him live after such a betrayal.
He had, of course, told Harsh about the conversation…
For the sake of security.
And Harsh, it seemed, had decided to act preemptively, realizing the ambitious Dominionites had their eyes on his domain.
The Dominion had isolated itself from the entire galaxy, and those daredevils who tried to smuggle Dominion goods had quickly vanished from sight.
Rumor had it that Imperial Star Destroyers were yanking ships out of hyperspace on almost every route leading to the Dominion.
After encountering them, smugglers and fortune hunters usually didn't make it back to base.
And their leaders preferred not to venture into a place so hostile to uninvited guests.
If Harsh was indeed in the Chiloon Rift, it meant he had found a way to bypass the Dominion's outposts.
But that wasn't the main thing.
There were fragmentary reports in the HoloNet that this nebula contained one of the largest and richest asteroid fields in the galaxy. Miners who had started working them back in the Imperial days boasted to their colleagues that it was as if thousands of mineral-rich planets had perished in the nebula, and extraction didn't require significant expense.
In the rift, again according to those who supposedly worked there, there were many unclaimed asteroids filled with valuable minerals.
Seth found a mention that in the past, the interests of the Corporate Sector and the "Zann Consortium" had clashed there, but for some reason, both sides had stopped their hostilities and the nebula seemed to have been forgotten.
At the same time, it attracted some of the most notorious thugs and mercenaries in the galaxy.
The former to rob the miners trying their luck.
The latter, in search of solvent clients to provide them with security.
While studying another article, Seth believed he found the reason why none of the major companies had wanted to get involved there.
The plasma clouds and asteroid fields present in the nebula made navigation difficult, requiring a pilot with quick reflexes to avoid obstacles and land on worlds inside the rift.
Pilots of the highest qualifications were needed, but the pay for their labor was downright laughable.
Understandably, if there was no one to haul your ore out, risking their lives, there was no point in investing there either.
Although, if the deposits were truly rich…
Someone would definitely have settled there.
Surely there would have been some idiot who risked investing capital there.
So, the only assumption was that the miners' tales were nothing more than miners' tall tales — people who, flying there for treasures, only realized how badly they'd messed up and what a rotten mess they'd gotten into.
And they whiled away the time spinning yarns online, just to somehow justify themselves to those who had heard about their flights into the rift.
But there was clearly something else going on here.
The Chiloon Rift was on the Dominion's back doorstep.
The Dominion wanted to take the Bosph sector from Harsh.
It was possible that the Moff and his corporate allies weren't mining ore there, but were up to something else.
For example, preparing a springboard to give those upstarts from the Dominion, who had dared to covet the mineral-rich Bosph, a proper lesson.
Seth had no military education, but he knew how to count money.
It was highly unlikely that the Dominion had fully explored the Mieru'kar sector — even past states that occupied most of the galaxy had failed to do that.
There was probably some secret hyperspace route that would allow the corporates and Harsh to strike the Dominion and disappear before they could respond.
Although…
He seemed to recall that the Grand Admiral who had created this Dominion in the first place had died last year.
And as Harsh had said, the Imperials left in the galaxy were nothing more than a pale shadow of those who had perished in the Imperial Civil War.
Hmm…
Had Harsh decided to grab another sector for himself?
After all, Mieru'kar, like Bosph, was on the galaxy's edge, where, as had long been known, the richest deposits of rare metals were concentrated.
Metals that the Core Worlds had been draining for millennia.
If so, it would be nice to also take the Korva sector, lying between Mieru'kar and Bosph.
Then, of course, by investing a huge pile of money into exploratory and other work, he could get his hands on the most powerful mining corporation in the galaxy!
"Sir," a protocol droid appeared in the doorway of his office. "You have visitors."
"Who in the Sith's name is it now?" Seth grumbled, annoyed at being pulled out of his fantasies.
"The gentleman in black armor who visited you last month," the droid reported helpfully.
A wave of heat washed over Seth.
He could only recall one such individual.
And that was the representative…
"Is he… alone?" the head of Kabul Industries asked hoarsely.
"He also delivered your niece, Arist," the droid confirmed his fears. "In handcuffs."
Oh, Jedi-wash, what the hell is going on?!
* * *
On the bridge of the Nebulon-B-class frigate, it felt like it was flying completely alone, making its way into the heart of the Outer Territories, where no sane being would venture.
Sol Mon stood directly in front of the observation monitor, playing with the hilt of his vibroblade.
The hilt, made of aurodium and studded with precious gems, had once belonged to some Imperial rich man.
Sol and his men had boarded the ship, killed the crew, and captured the valuable passengers, delivering them to their command.
Sol Mon.
What happened to them afterward didn't particularly interest Sol — he simply carried out the orders given to him by the leadership of Black Sun without flaw.
Just like now.
The pirate adjusted the bracelet on his right bicep and glanced at the woman sitting nearby.
Several of his fighters were next to her, but this soft-handed lady was unlikely to put up any serious resistance.
"You'll have a little chat with the brass soon, Baroness," the dark-skinned pirate "reassured" the woman.
The lady in a skintight jumpsuit with snow-white hair shot him a withering glare.
"When they're done with you, I'll take you as my servant," Sol Mon chuckled. "I've got a couple of outfits that'd suit you."
"I'd sooner slit my own throat, you scum," the Baroness D'Asta said disdainfully.
"The same way my boys did yours?" the pirate asked with a mocking smile.
"And since when do talortai serve you, Mon?" the platinum-haired woman returned the same grimace. "You're just a small-time errand boy."
The pirate couldn't take that.
He took a few quick steps toward the woman, but stopped right in front of her when he saw a figure that had appeared out of thin air behind the Baroness.
Sol was about to answer Fina D'Asta with a good slap, but caught a warning look from Urai Fen.
"Don't touch her," the Talortai ordered, unmistakably displaying his massive blades.
Swallowing the insult, the pirate gave the woman a contemptuous look.
"We'll have time for you to answer for your words, aristocrat," he promised.
"Just as I thought — you're a cowardly errand boy," the lady made a contemptuous grimace on her noble, porcelain-like face, which was becoming a habit.
"Shut your mouth, Baroness," Fen ordered, placing his heavy hand on the prisoner's shoulder. "You were ordered delivered alive, not intact."
The pale aristocrat snapped her mouth shut and began staring at the floor in front of her.
A smug smile appeared on Mon's face as he stepped aside.
So the Talortai had been right next to her this whole time since the capture of the Dominion ship and the Baroness's vessel, which ended with the death of all her bodyguards and the capture of the upstart herself.
Under his damned cloaking.
Even though Mon had up to a hundred fighters on the ship, he wasn't about to mess with Urai Fen.
The Talortai had single-handedly killed two dozen trained fighters guarding the Baroness, including her father's bodyguards, who had proven their professionalism by preventing assassinations of the now-deceased Baron.
Killing the pirates would be no trouble for him.
Well, Black Sun had only gained by getting a former lieutenant of Tyber Zann in their service.
In fact, this whole operation was his brainchild.
But whether the plan belonged to the criminal organization's leadership or to Urai himself, Mon didn't know.
He wasn't told such details.
And he wouldn't have participated in the attack, nor would he have sacrificed a bunch of his men during those boardings, if he hadn't missed Grappa the Hutt's escape.
After that, Black Sun was very displeased with him.
Grappa the Hutt had overseen almost all of the organization's operations outside the Corporate Sector.
And his disappearance threatened all the actions to capture influential bigwigs in the galaxy.
No wonder the leadership, having learned from their previous fall, ordered all combat groups to return to base.
Sol Mon suspected that something big was being prepared and the leadership needed fighters, but he didn't know the full picture yet.
Lower-level commanders aren't told much.
He only needed to make sure Grappa the Hutt didn't screw up anywhere, and when the time came, organize the return of the kidnapped "bigwigs" to their places.
As had already happened with D'Asta and hundreds of other rich people.
Sol considered it a promotion when he was put in charge of the fighters instead of Grappa the Hutt.
But when he was almost immediately thrown into the D'Astan sector, ordered to leave Genon and cover his tracks, and then also to attack ships and capture a clearly arrogant lady, losing two-thirds of his boarding party, the pirate finally "got it."
He was being punished for failing the observation mission.
Well, now he'd succeeded.
And as soon as he returned to CorpSec, he would surely be forgiven.
They had almost arrived — the Aparo sector, adjacent to the Corporate sector, was under the latter's control.
He just needed to get to Etti IV, hand over the prisoner, and that was it.
Then he could count on participating in the big brawl.
Now he had a new ship — the Dominion had heavily modified the Nebulon-B, and now this vessel wasn't just an escort frigate.
Too bad the crew, before being killed, had managed to destroy the navigation database.
And all the devices, system recognition codes.
Ah, how much money he could have made if he'd managed to get the Dominion's databases and slip past their patrols.
As it was, he was left to picking off the thin convoys of Imperials or Republicans as before.
No, if not for its size, he could have considered it a VERY light cruiser.
And the presence of external docking pylons for TIE-series fighters made it quite suitable for raiding.
Of course, against minor enemy forces.
But when did the rich ever have the sense to arrange at least a cruiser as an escort?
Sol had already moved several TIE fighters that the group had onto his new ship…
The light tunnel scattered into billions of stars of all colors and shades so suddenly that Sol Mon couldn't stay on his feet.
Cursing loudly, he jumped up and looked around.
He first looked at the Rodian at the navigation console.
But he sat with such a frightened face that the pirate leader immediately realized it wasn't a random navigation error.
The ship found itself literally in the middle of a huge empty space — like interstellar space through which hyperspace routes pass.
There should be nothing and no one here.
But it turned out otherwise.
Besides the burning wreckage of a twisted merchant vessel spinning wildly on its axis, and the darting fighters and escape pods, the captain's attention was caught by another ship, to the left, which had come into view completely by accident.
Looking at it, Sol felt distinctly unwell.
His throat went dry.
The wrecked merchant ship was the ersatz carrier he'd used to transport his pilots.
And judging by how eagerly the TIE interceptors were hunting them, the Star Destroyer frozen thirty units to starboard was directly responsible.
As if to confirm his words, the turbolasers of the Interdictor volleyed over the cargo ship, turning it into a blinding flash.
And now they're coming for us!
At the same time, the Nebulon-B shuddered from a powerful impact to starboard.
Given that the Interdictor hadn't fired, there was only one conclusion.
"Imperial Star Destroyer to starboard!" the navigator shouted.
The escort frigate was hit again — this time from astern.
"We're being shot at by assault gunboats!"
"We've lost seventy percent of our main engines!"
Sol turned away from the viewport.
"Activate shields to full power. Launch the fighters. I don't know what Imperial idiot decided to attack us, but they won't get our ships! Gunners, calculate the trajectory and open fire on the Destroyer."
"As you command, Captain!"
Giving orders and trying to figure out how they could have been intercepted, Sol Mon already realized that no reasoning would give him a logical explanation of how two Imperial ships had managed to sneak into territory controlled by the corporates unnoticed.
All he could do was bluster and pretend everything was fine.
While hoping that someone from the Corporate Sector fleet or the ships covering Aparo would come to their aid!
"Sensor readings? What's happening out there?"
Through the holographic data display, a Duros peered out, an even darker grimace than usual frozen on his elongated face.
"Gravity anomaly, sir, everywhere. We just ended up at its edge, and now we're inside."
So they'd dropped out of hyperspace across the vector of the gravity beam, and the mains had pushed them deeper.
And now they had no speed to speak of!
The turbolaser batteries on the captured ship opened fire, and streams of whistling white-green bolts streaked toward the Star Destroyer bearing down from starboard.
The shots seemed aimed right at the target, but they splashed across the protective shield, doing no harm to the advancing "triangle."
They were expected.
Keeping deflectors on for a long time was wasteful, and Imperials never did that.
The transport ship had dropped out of hyperspace about ten minutes ago — with that gap, Sol had sent his ships on to Etti IV.
So either the enemy had captured someone from his men on the freighter and broken them that fast, or else…
Sol knew his men well.
If they'd been ambushed, they'd have been screaming about it.
But they were silent.
And that led the captured frigate right into a trap!
Just like the freighter!
There's a "beacon" on the ship.
And if so, then these are Dominion ships!
Which came for their property!
"Identify the ships!"
"The Baroness needs to be evacuated immediately," Urai Fen, invoked at an inopportune moment, appeared next to him.
"Oh, you don't say?" Sol snapped, waving his hand toward the Destroyers. "Go tell them that! I've only got ten TIE fighters on board!"
"Captain! It's the Chimaera and the Eternal Wrath!"
So definitely Dominion.
"The Chimaera is Thrawn's flagship," someone from the crew gasped.
"But he's dead!"
"Exactly, a Republic Jedi stabbed him and took off…"
"And does that make it any easier for us? Whether Thrawn carves us up or his dogs!?"
The crew was in turmoil.
And Mon knew they were about to panic.
"Oh, someone's in for it now," the Baroness smiled.
"You led them to us, you bitch!" Mon roared, lunging at the prisoner.
But he was sent flying several meters back, taking a fist to the chest from Urai Fen.
"Order your personal shuttle prepared," he commanded.
A small modified Lambda that Sol had taken from some Imperial Moff.
Fast thanks to new engines stripped from a larger ship, well-armored, it clearly had a better chance of escape.
The problem was that it only had room for two.
"Go to hell!" Sol wheezed. "I'm not staying on this ship."
"Deck seven reports landing craft attaching to the bow and stern!" came a shout from one of the watchmen.
"Droidekas on deck five!"
"We've lost half the fighters!"
The ship shuddered again from a turbolaser hit to the side — and that saved the pirate's life.
Urai Fen's massive blades stabbed into the deck plating, where inertia had already shifted Mon.
Kicking the lieutenant, the pirate jumped up, drawing his vibroblade and striking at the Talortai.
But the latter had already used his cloaking system and vanished.
"Hold the Baroness!" Mon shouted, seeing the heads of her guards fall, severed by a powerful blow.
"A boarding pod in the next compartment!"
Sol threw his vibroknife toward where the struggling Baroness was being dragged by emptiness.
Judging by the roar, he'd hit Urai Fen.
But the blade was immediately thrown back and lodged in the navigator's head.
Who was running to his commander.
But there were blood trails on the deck — apparently Sol, thanks to his luck, had managed to hit something important in the Talortai's body.
The hits on the Nebulon-B continued.
Sol saw the door to the bridge open, and in the doorway, about a meter from the cloaked Urai Fen dragging the struggling Baroness, appeared a droideka, which immediately began destroying pirates with its cannon fire.
And behind it, four stormtroopers in matte black armor with distinctive gold "gears" on their pauldrons entered the bridge.
Now there was absolutely no doubt about who had attacked Mon's group — the freighter and the captured escort frigate.
"Assault Commandos," the pirate captain realized instantly.
The enemy fighters opened fire, and only plasma managed to break the Talortai's cloak.
The lieutenant dropped the Baroness and, with a strike of his blades, literally split in half the lead stormtrooper, apparently the squad commander.
He seemed unresponsive to the blaster shots fired at him and, with a double precise strike, killed two more fighters.
The last one, a flamethrower, leaped aside, tossing away his blaster, and with a jet of fire literally roasted the Talortai.
Mon watched the scene, not even noticing that his men were being killed, mesmerized as the roaring Urai Fen shielded himself with one of his blades, using his other hand to beat the flames off his clothes.
The flamethrower had already gotten to his feet and changed the stream's direction, but Fen struck from above, cutting the enemy's weapon.
The fuel mixture spilled across the deck, igniting instantly.
Mon realized this was his chance.
Hiding behind terminals, he moved toward the emergency exit, ignoring the killing of his subordinates.
He kept his eyes on the Talortai, who with a free hand strike threw the stormtrooper away.
The black-clad figure flew several meters, and Urai tore a fire extinguisher off the wall and began dousing himself with its contents.
The pirate captain seized the moment and slipped out through the powder fog, rushing headlong down the corridor.
He needed to reach the tiny hangar faster than the Talortai, burdened with the prisoner.
To hell with all of it!
The crew, the ship, Black Sun.
If he was lucky, both the first and the last would consider him dead.
He'd find himself a ship to continue his trade.
As long as the Dominion didn't keep hunting him.
Pleased with how quickly he'd escaped the trap on the bridge, the pirate ran full speed around a corridor corner, intending to use the service ladder and cross the decks, when he suddenly stopped, slamming his whole body into a figure in black-and-blue armor.
"Unlucky," he managed to mutter before tenacious hands grabbed his shoulders and a Dominion guard's armored knee knocked the pirate unconscious.