Ten years, one month, and fifteen days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or the forty-fifth year, first month, and fifteenth day after the Great Resynchronization.
(Seven months and thirty-five days since the Arrival.)
Philipp Santhe adjusted his dapper little mustache with a finger and shook his head disapprovingly.
Philipp Santhe.
"And you genuinely think I'll believe that you have absolutely nothing to do with the attack on my family's company and home planet?" His voice dripped with cold courtesy, but Leia could see from his eyes that the man was absolutely furious.
"Pretty much," Han answered for her. "Neither we nor the Alliance leadership have any idea about or involvement in the atrocity committed against you, your people, and your corporation last year."
"Is that so?" Lady Santhe's son raised an eyebrow. "It all seems very clear-cut to me."
"Father," the son sitting next to the head of the Santhe family cast a cautious look at his parent. "Surely we can't accuse our guests of deliberate lying?"
"On the contrary, son," the head of the Santhe family declared, "we can. And we will. Star cruisers of the New Republic participated in the attack on Lianna. Squads of Wookiees landed on the planet. I think everyone knows that Imperials turn their noses up at aliens and don't allow them into leadership positions, let alone service in the armed forces. And the ground battles on Lianna involved precisely those aliens."
"I'm afraid you've been misled, Mister Santhe," Leia stated. "When I was a prisoner of the Dominion, I had the opportunity to see that Grand Admiral Thrawn, who himself was not of the human race, recruited representatives of other species into the Dominion's service."
"All the more reason to remember that virtually from its inception, the Dominion almost immediately began calling in anyone willing to live under Imperial law, so that's possible," Kashan Santhe, the only son of the current head of the corporation that had borne his family name for decades, continued.
Leia looked gratefully at the young man from that same noble Santhe family, who had been quite unambiguously promoting the Alliance's interests during the meeting.
Kashan Santhe.
While Philipp Santhe, Kashan's father and the sole surviving child of the late Lady Valles Santhe, unequivocally voiced his skepticism, Kashan was his complete opposite.
On one hand, of course, Philipp was understandable.
He had no respect or reverence for the Alliance to Restore the Republic or what it had now become. The current company head's own brother had died during the outbursts of anti-Imperial violence on Lianna several years ago, which only embittered Philipp and made him pro-Imperial in his leanings — quite a curious twist of psyche.
Instead of hating those responsible for the massacres of Lianna's population, Philipp blamed the Rebels for his brother's death, believing they had rocked the boat of law and order on Lianna.
This had led to Imperial intervention, followed by a brutal and bloody invasion by Imperial stormtroopers, with all the resulting civilian casualties from their ruthlessness and extensive destruction of civil infrastructure.
Alliance intelligence had provided Leia with all the information on the new leader of Santhe Corporation, which encompassed both the legacy of Raith Sienar and its own Liannan subsidiary enterprises.
Lady Santhe's son was a staunch supporter of the Galactic Empire, believing that a man like Palpatine was necessary to restore order in the sectors.
His very first order upon assuming the company's leadership was to lower prices on finished goods for the Empire, returning them to the levels seen before Endor.
This immediately attracted the attention of pro-Imperial factions.
By the time Leia and Han arrived on Lianna, a huge convoy of departing ships was already in orbit, heading for the Empire's worlds with holds full of equipment from Lianna's vast warehouses that Thrawn's invaders hadn't reached during their assault on the planet.
Intelligence files also noted that Philipp resented his mother for ordering him around and refusing to relinquish control of the family company.
His professional career could boast only one major undertaking.
He had an engineering degree and had been actively involved in Project NOVA, an Imperial contract to improve a key component of the cloaking device. Mister Santhe had hoped that successfully completing this project would accelerate his mother's retirement.
But, thanks to the actions of agents of what was then the Rebel Alliance, both the project and the prototype installation were thoroughly buried by Imperial bureaucracy.
The sabotaged prototype and project documents resulted in the cloaking device failing to conceal the required target — a Star Destroyer — during tests.
The project, as was often the case with the Empire, was shut down with no possibility of further use and certainly no further funding from Palpatine's treasury. And even Santhe Corporation couldn't independently develop the ruined blueprints and equipment from scratch — the project required colossal financial investment.
And, based on what Rebel scientists had been able to glean from a stolen copy of the project documents, NOVA had been doomed to failure from the start.
The installation was structurally incapable of providing a cloaking field for anything larger than a scout droid.
The project's roots lay in old developments by Raith Sienar, but even the geniuses of the New Republic couldn't understand them.
So the former Rebels also turned a blind eye to the project, horrified that to conceal even a single droid, or at a stretch, a speeder, would cost several billion credits — with the risk, as had happened with the NOVA project's test drones, of losing control of the cloaked object.
In effect, Lianna had gotten its own version of the cloaking device, analogous to the one Grand Admiral Thrawn had used during the blockade of Coruscant and several other attacks, based on hybidium.
The latter, however, was merely a baseless assumption by Bel Iblis (due to the lack of identifiable remains), but no better explanation existed for how Thrawn had managed to cloak hundreds of asteroids without going bankrupt.
In other words, Philipp Santhe, knowing full well who had contributed to the collapse of his project (his first and only one to date), clearly harbored no great love for the Alliance.
Philipp was a cold and calculating man, capable of manipulating most people except for Lady Santhe.
He wasn't particularly intelligent and had a tendency to complain and whine.
And Leia was currently witnessing the latter firsthand.
"How can I possibly believe you envoys aren't complicit in Lianna's suffering, when you — the Alliance leadership — are exactly the same as the New Republic's leadership was at the time of the attack on Lianna?" he sneered. "Mon Mothma governs your territories, a symbol of political stability. Bel Iblis is Supreme Commander. You, Councilor Organa, are effectively the chief diplomat. And you were, both under the New Republic and now under the Alliance. In virtually the same composition, Lianna had problems with the New Republic in the recent past, and now you expect me to turn a blind eye to my people's suffering and welcome you with open arms? I hope you understand that by accepting your offer of an alliance, I risk waking up tomorrow to an angry populace demanding an explanation for such an unpopular decision in light of growing economic problems here on Lianna..."
"Problems?" Leia perked up. "We were not informed of this, but I think you won't mind telling us about it?"
"After our factories and workshops for producing TIE-series starfighters were looted, and the design information of the entire industrial conglomerate was seized, our revenue dropped significantly," Kashan Santhe said hurriedly. "Many of our lower and mid-level specialists left, heading for the Dominion, which keeps talking about taking back what the New Republic plundered from our planet. Especially since they currently hold exclusive rights to manufacture and repair TIE-series flying equipment, as well as all the necessary production machinery."
"Maybe, in that case, you shouldn't have sold the military equipment left in the unplundered warehouses at the old prices?" Han asked innocently.
Leia, maintaining a pleasant smile, discreetly stepped on her husband's foot under the table, diplomatically reminding him it might be better to stay quiet.
"Maybe so," Philipp Santhe stated. "But I'm talking about something else. You want Lianna to become part of the Alliance. I'm telling you we have serious economic problems and lack the necessary equipment and personnel to produce flying vehicles."
"But you do have factories capable of manufacturing ground vehicles," Leia reminded him. "Moreover, we are prepared to provide you with some of our scientists to help restore the starfighter industry."
"And a billion or two for purchasing the necessary equipment?" Philipp Santhe specified.
"Not in a lump sum, of course," Leia hesitated. "But over some time, we will ensure..."
"A gamble," Philipp waved his hand, rising from the table. "If we don't inject one hundred and forty billion credits into our economy right now, by the end of next month we'll face bankruptcy and production stagnation. Furthermore, you clearly want to subsume my company under the government, and I don't like that. Becoming part of those who ignore Imperial laws means becoming a target. And that already makes me a target for my enemies. I have no desire to end up dead at the hands of some mercenary like my mother. Not to mention your Alliance certainly can't protect Lianna from Imperial invasions. And, as has already happened, anti-Imperial sentiment on the planet will be brutally suppressed. That is definitely not in our national interest. With that, our meeting is concluded. Please excuse me, but business awaits. Kashan," he looked at his son, "take care of our guests."
Without another word, the head of the corporation left the negotiation hall.
Leia noted that the intelligence data was inaccurate.
Maybe Philipp Santhe had been a whiner in the past, but his mother's death had clearly added stubbornness and even more contempt, distrust, and anger towards representatives of a democratic regime.
"I apologize for my father's abruptness and harshness," Kashan Santhe said. "He's had so much fall on him lately."
"That's obvious," Han snorted.
"I hope you understand, Kashan, that flirting with the Imperials will lead to nothing good for Lianna or your family business?" Leia inquired, looking kindly at the young man sitting before her, no older than herself.
He was a slender, dark-haired man of lean build with dark hair. He was bold and had a "tendency to take on more than he could handle."
That was how Alliance intelligence had characterized him.
Like his father, Kashan was an engineer by profession.
But he had yet to distinguish himself in any project worthy of even passing attention.
Kashan had sympathized with the Rebels since his student days and was an agent of the Rebel Alliance.
During his school years in the Core Worlds, he had made acquaintances among the children of aristocrats who weren't particularly loyal to the Empire.
At present, most of the latter had already been repressed and eliminated by the Imperials.
Although he thought his grandmother was unaware of his ties to the Rebellion, this was untrue, and in fact, most of the information Kashan had passed to the Alliance had been edited by Lady Santhe.
For this reason, the Alliance and later the New Republic had stopped using the information obtained from him — it couldn't withstand cross-verification with data from independent agents.
His father, Philipp Santhe, was unaware of his son's Rebel connections.
Otherwise, this current meeting, which had occurred largely thanks to Kashan, would never have taken place at all.
Still, as Leia understood, Alliance intelligence had decided to use its agent in this way at least.
The meeting had already lasted several days — and Philipp Santhe always found a reason to keep the Alliance representatives waiting for negotiations, citing (through his aide) a busy schedule.
So Lei and Han had to patiently wait in orbit aboard the Galactic Herald, constantly under threat of fire from several orbital defense stations that Philipp Santhe had brought in to protect the planet.
And all of this — for today's meeting.
Although, it could hardly be called that — the result was unequivocally negative.
But perhaps there was still a chance.
"I understand," the man said. "Unlike my father, I see that selling off our strategic reserves isn't a solution to the economic problem, or stabilizing the payroll situation, and so on. We are weakening our own defenses. And soon we'll have to pay for it — reports indicate that scouts from the Allied Tion sector have been spotted multiple times on our system's borders."
"They're watching until you're as weak as possible to strike," Han said.
"I understand that, General Solo. But the corporate security forces, formed not from mercenaries but from Lianna's citizens, aren't combat-ready at the moment, even though I do everything I can to monitor their condition and training," all that remained was to hope Lianna at least had mercenary consultants who could explain to their charges where the business end of a blaster was. "We managed to avoid a food crisis, but only thanks to humanitarian shipments from the Dominion."
"Really?" Han perked up. "They sent their ships to you?"
Kashan squared his shoulders, as if this circumstance were a personal achievement.
"While my father was dealing with the company's affairs, I contacted Vice Admiral Pellaeon, asking for his help in defending the planet and providing the civilian population with everything necessary."
"And they agreed?" Leia was surprised.
"Yes," Kashan Santhe hesitated. "At the beginning of last month, a whole convoy of cargo-passenger ships arrived, delivering thousands of tons of humanitarian aid, including food. A significant portion of it we imported onto the planet, purchasing it on Ukio. But given how quickly our treasury emptied and our supplies dwindled, it was the only way out. Father tried to solve this by purchasing food from product sales, but that process isn't fast."
"And you always need to eat," Han interjected.
"So the deliveries from the Dominion helped us hold out for almost two months," Kashan replied. "Father, admittedly, spent the money on buying defensive platforms and preparing our armed forces, so it's quite possible we'll soon find ourselves in a difficult position again."
"Let me guess," Han snapped his fingers. "Your father's talk about needing billions — that's weapons spending?"
"For the most part," Kashan agreed, looking away. "But significant funds were also allocated for humanitarian purposes..."
"Kashan," Leia leaned forward, folding her hands on the tabletop. "You do realize that Lianna is surrounded by enemies on three sides? The Tion Cluster consists of three pro-Imperial states. After you were barbarically deprived of your grandmother, Lady Santhe, rest assured — any Imperial Remnant of a decent size will try to conquer you. Your defensive stations aren't as threatening anymore. You need strong allies. And the Alliance is ready to provide them."
"I understand that," Philipp Santhe's son declared fervently. "I believe your words that those who lead the Alliance were not behind the attack on Lianna. But my father is very hard to convince of anything. He's sure the Imperials will help us — the Dominion helped after all."
"And what did that cost you?" Han asked. "The Dominion's help in repelling the attack resulted in you losing all your shipbuilding capacity and factories. They're all with the Dominion now. I have no doubt the technical documentation stolen from you is also with them. You yourself allowed them to take everything they could seize from the attackers as compensation."
"Not me personally, but..."
"Two-thirds of your production capacity is simply exhausted," Leia said. "You can no longer build ships — at least not in the near future. TIE-series starfighters either."
"As I understand it, the Dominion brought you supplies, and took back on those same ships — your specialists from the shipbuilding enterprises?" Han asked another question.
"Yes, but..." Kashan hesitated. "Not all of them."
"So you have the potential for recovery and..."
"You don't understand," Santhe the Younger said, even more quietly. "Our shipbuilders, designers, chief engineers — they've all left Lianna. Even if we rebuild the slipways and hire staff, spending time and money on their training, it will be months at best. We can't afford right now to spend money we don't have on pumping up a sector we can no longer handle. Not to mention that even if we gather together all our scattered archives, we can hardly carry out work even on the space products we used to produce."
"We weren't informed of this." Leia and Han exchanged glances.
"Father tries not to publicize our true situation," Kashan smiled apologetically. "He understands perfectly well that the equipment we produce — what's left of it — is Imperial designs. And they are used primarily in the Remnants. Even if they learn our true situation, the information won't spread across the galaxy. Slowly, but through trade with the Empire, we can recover. In a few years."
"Considering how 'much' the Imperials have been fighting on planets lately, I'd say decades," Han shook his head.
"You'll go completely bankrupt faster," Leia declared.
"I understand that, but my father won't even hear of it," Kashan spread his hands. "A representative from a mysterious client in the Deep Core already arrived, demanding we hand over the new machines built for them..."
"New machines?!" Han stopped rocking on his chair legs and leaned toward the table. "What are we talking about?"
"I don't know for certain — no records or samples remain — but it seems our assembly lines for TIE Defenders and other small-production craft were retooled for a unified design," Kashan shrugged.
Leia felt a knot forming in her stomach at his words.
"How did you figure that out if no traces are left?" she asked, catching a look of approval from her husband.
It seemed he wanted to ask the same question.
"Some of the invoices for equipment delivery, repairs, and machine calibration survived on flimsi," Kashan explained. "Based on those, you could assume the TIE Interceptor platform was modified. As I understand it, the new project had been in development for several years; there were several design variants, but none of them actually received the client's approval. The craft was experimental — based on existing projects, but also borrowing ideas from Separatist droid starfighters... We manufactured them in orbital assembly bays."
"Droid starfighters?" Han frowned. "Lady Santhe was developing TIE-series droid starfighters?!"
Leia felt her stomach drop.
"Yes," Kashan Santhe confirmed his own statement. "It's not about artificial intelligence as a pilot, of course — just a standard droid brain with self-learning limitations..."
The former Alderaanian princess felt sick.
She remembered Republic military reports stating that machines on the Dominion's side fought with reactions too perfectly matching those of enemy pilots.
She remembered the refitting of the Dominion's regular fleet, which had increased the number of TIE Interceptors in its air wings.
She remembered the rising Republic pilot corps losses with every battle.
"Those machines," she found the strength to continue, "did you transfer them along with the factories?"
"No," Kashan shook his head. "Officially, they were there, of course. But in reality, it turned out my grandmother ordered all completed units moved to strategic warehouses after the first wave of attacks, before your Lusankya arrived. That's where they were bought from, actually."
"So you lost both the production technology for those droid starfighters and the completed units?" Han asked, disappointed.
"Yes, Lord Sedriss took the TIE droids," the younger Santhe confirmed, nodding energetically. "Along with all the scientists who worked on their manufacture, development, and assembly line startup. Well, those who hadn't fled to the Dominion before that, of course."
"Sedriss, you say?" Solo squinted. "Tall, pompous, looks like an aristocrat?"
"Well... I guess so," Kashan hesitated. "I didn't really talk to him — only my father did. I only saw him a couple of times..."
"When did they move all the assets?" Leia asked. "The completed TIE droids, I mean."
"Well..." the young Liannan looked away. "While you were waiting for the meeting, Dad arranged everything... The strategic reserve warehouses are on the opposite side of the planet from your ship's position."
"So right under our noses, Lianna, while discussing our aid proposal, just sold the latest weaponry to a representative of Pal—" General Solo jumped up from his seat indignantly.
"Han!" Leia said warningly.
There was no need for Kashan to know Palpatine was alive.
At the very least, it was unconfirmed. At most, even though all family members and close friends and allies understood it was the most plausible version of what was happening in the Deep Core, telling this boy would condemn him to doubt, fear, and worry for his own life.
Meanwhile, a plan was forming in Leia's head.
Well, not a plan so much...
A seed.
The beginning.
"So who does Sedriss represent?" Kashan asked, shifting his gaze between the Solo couple. "Speaking of which. Father didn't sell those droids to Sedriss — he gave them away. There were about three or five thousand of them..."
Han Solo's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"Sedriss represents one of the Imperial warlords holed up in the Deep Core," Leia said quickly. "Kashan, can't you see that the Empire, whatever it calls itself, is just looting your planet? The Dominion could easily have incorporated you into its territory and kept the production, the specialists — everything on Lianna." But they robbed you. Sedriss simply took expensive developments, the fruit of thousands of beings' labor, leaving you without a single credit of thanks. Not to mention that even your remaining production is so important that a fleet base should have been established here and Lianna defended. But nobody does that!"
"Well..."
"But the Alliance can do that," Han said, catching on to his wife's game. "We'll protect you and won't let anyone loot or nationalize your property."
"All your ground production can supply us with the armored vehicles we need," Leia continued. "And the light craft production... I'll talk to the Alliance leader and tell her you need help. We have Incom engineers who can help you develop new machines. And the Alliance will fund them. And believe me, the Alliance's vehicle purchases from you will be so massive that Lianna won't have to stand by the Parlemian Route with an outstretched hand, hoping for help instead of a slap."
"Sounds great," the Liannan's eyes lit up. "I'd like to participate in developing new fighters myself. It's just..." the sparkle in his eyes faded, "Father won't agree. He's categorically against ties with non-Imperials."
"But you understand his course is leading the whole company to ruin!" Leia pleaded. "Everything the Sienars and Santhes built will be plundered if we don't help you!"
"I... I'll talk to my father," Kashan Santhe said firmly. "I can convince him to do the right thing!"
"All the better," Leia smiled. "We'll still have to leave for a while — there are other state affairs we can't ignore. But we'll leave you a direct way to contact us."
She looked at her husband, nodding toward the third member of their promising meeting.
"This comlink is tuned to our personal frequency," Han reluctantly pulled the communication device from his tunic pocket (which he'd already tried several times to replace with a comfortable vest and black trousers with "Blood Stripes"). "Once you arrange another meeting with us through your father, let us know."
"I'll do it immediately," Kashan promised, tucking the precious cylinder into his jacket.
The hatch to my quarters slid back into place, and I rose from the workstation desk, stepping toward my guest. Behind her walked a guardsman clad in blue-black armor.
"Baroness D'Asta," I greeted the young woman, gesturing for her to take a seat on one of the two sofas. "Glad to see you in good health aboard my flagship."
* * *
The aristocrat looked at me distrustfully but managed to suppress her surprise at the sight and accepted the non-verbal invitation.
I didn't know who had helped her, but she looked as if she were attending a high-society meeting with access to her own wardrobe. A simple yet exquisitely decorated dress adorned with gemstones and pendants, hugging her figure; an uncomplicated but skillfully done hairstyle. Small earrings of white precious metal, also decorated with diamonds like the dress, barely visible beneath the snow-white hair cascading onto her shoulders. From the latter, too, was made the necklace adorning her pale skin and merging with the décolletage. Only a few blood-red stones in the jewelry broke up the image, which would have suited a bride more than a noble lady attending a working meeting.
The lady settled in and waited for me to sit across from her and fill glasses with fruit juice, then extended one to her.
Long, slender fingers with nails painted crimson scratched against mine.
I didn't miss that the girl kept staring at my hands, clearly trying to figure out if my skin was painted.
"You're alive after all," she whispered, tilting her head and taking a small sip from her glass.
"If I got a credit every time I heard that phrase, I'd buy myself a new Star Destroyer," I confirmed.
"Witty," the baroness set her glass on the transparent table and folded her hands over her dress. "Well?"
"I'm afraid you'll need to specify the context of your question," I admitted, not taking my eyes off her dark ones.
"You called me Baroness," the girl said, tossing her platinum hair. "Does that mean you think the real baroness is dead, or were you mistaken from the start and there never was a clone? I'd like to hear your thoughts."
"At the moment, I'm more interested in where you found jewelry and such an exquisite dress on my ship," I said. "I can't recall any unit where this form of attire would be considered acceptable according to regulations."
"You're on a roll, Grand Admiral," the girl forced a smile. "Jokes spilling out like a cornucopia. Been practicing?"
"I'm sorry to disappoint. I'm genuinely curious where you found a dress on a warship."
The young woman blinked several times, then reached for her juice glass, using the traditional tactic for ladies in an open-necked dress — one that lets men fill their minds with fantasies and their bodies with surging hormones.
Sorry to disappoint her, but it doesn't work on someone living a second life.
She licked her full lips, took a sip, then repeated the maneuver in reverse order.
"I sewed it," she said. "I'm afraid my quarters are now missing some curtains."
"And apparently, you also got back some of the luggage the pirates seized on your ship," I guessed at the jewelry's origin.
"As if you didn't know that," Feena D'Asta grimaced, shattering her composed image. "Speaking of which, thank your soldiers for saving my life and freeing me from captivity. I don't know what would have happened to me if I'd been delivered where they planned..."
"You would have met whoever is behind cloning your original," I said calmly.
The baroness, though holding back, couldn't hide the irritation that flickered across her face.
"Is that certain?" she asked.
"As certain as the fact that the Zann Consortium is behind everything happening in your sector," I added.
"Scouts say the rebellious Houses are using Black Sun mercenaries," the aristocrat frowned.
"Which, in turn, is a cover for the real orchestrator of events," I said. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me about your criminal connections? I'm especially interested in what exactly you told Grappa the Hutt and Sol Mon about what's happening in Imperial Space and the plans of the Imperial Ruling Council."
The baroness looked away, biting her lower lip.
From the movement of her eyes, I could tell she was simply admiring the holographic art collection dispersing the dim light.
"I think it's pointless to hide it any longer," she brought her gaze back but didn't look me in the eyes, hypnotizing her sweating drink glass instead. "When my father passed me his seat on the Imperial Ruling Council, our relationship became extremely... unpleasant. That's personal and concerns only the two of us."
"As you wish. I'm only interested in your professional matters," I allowed, showing I would let her keep some secrets if she was forthcoming on the topic in question.
"Because of the disagreements with my father and his lack of strong support for my initiatives, because of his desire to end the war between the Empire and the New Republic by negotiating a truce even at the cost of concessions, I had to seek support. Loners don't survive on the Imperial Ruling Council. Only by having allies there could I continue my work as a councilor. Otherwise, I would have been eliminated and forced to return to my father — with whom I had major disagreements."
"And who provided it?" I asked. "That support you needed on the Council."
"Xandel Karivus."
Perfect.
Another name that tells me nothing.
"Who is he?" The question seemed to surprise the lady.
"One of the members of the Imperial Ruling Council who supported your appointment as Supreme Commander of the Empire," she said.
Well, damn...
A slip that could have rather unpleasant consequences.
Again — a reminder to myself: control!
I'd believed too strongly that I'd severed ties with the past, not even considering that a single question could be the one that triggers an investigation into "the grand admiral's memory lapses."
"I'm aware of his position on the Imperial Ruling Council," I said calmly, trying to maintain indifference. "What interests me far more is information about his place in the Black Sun hierarchy. That, in fact, was the point of my previous question."
The phrasing was clunky, but at least it established a semantic link between the slip and the supposedly true underlying motive of the cunning question.
"That I don't know," the young woman shook her head. "Karivus, though a blatantly ambitious fool, if he is connected to Black Sun, never spoke about it directly. No, he made it abundantly clear to me that I wouldn't last long on the Imperial Ruling Council without accepting someone's patronage."
"And that patron was Lord Quest?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied. "At first, Karivus helped me gain some kind of position, introduced me to the right people. Then Quest appeared in my field of vision. As I understood it, Karivus spent time with me to determine whether I could meet with Quest and negotiate at all. Losing my father's influence over Imperial Space, I realized I would soon lose my post. Sarcev Quest told me that the councilors could turn a blind eye to the fact that my influence wasn't backed by sector positions. I was also informed that some councilors didn't want the Empire to prosper as Palpatine had made it. Like my father — they planned negotiations with the rebels."
"The Negotiation Party — are those the councilors who spoke against my appointment?" I asked.
"For the most part," Feena stated. "Among those who despise you is General Immodet, for example. But he acted solely from the position of your racial inferiority."
Oh, how familiar those notes smelled.
The New Order — human supremacy over the other races of the galaxy, the latter's lot being slavery.
"So the conspiracy within the Imperial Ruling Council was created to purge the Council itself?" I clarified.
"Initially — yes," the baroness agreed. "It was assumed that by cleansing the Council of disloyal beings who only cared about themselves, we would proclaim Quest's protégé — Carnor Jax — Emperor. He's officially among the Emperor's Royal Guards, but is actually sensitive to the Force. And if they haven't changed the plan, he intends to kill Palpatine to take his place. Though they didn't tell me that right away. Still, if Quest is right and the Emperor is mad, caring about nothing but his revenge on the New Republic, then that's where he belongs. In the pit he crawled back from."
So that's how it is.
It turns out...
Extremely interesting.
Clearly, the lady hadn't told me everything during our previous meeting, deciding she could keep some secrets to herself.
My calculation — leaving her to stew in the cauldron of civil war to earn her loyalty and confessions without risking "damaging" or destroying the clone during interrogations — had paid off.
"But, as I understand it, that was just the beginning. Those who didn't pass screening at that level were eliminated and not admitted to other secrets."
"And the real goal of the conspirators led by Sarcev Quest — the destruction of Palpatine?"
"Exactly," if the girl was surprised, she kept quiet. "I found out about that not long ago. But like the other conspirators, neither I nor anyone else has seen Palpatine — only Quest. He, after the Dominion was formed, said our goals had finally changed. Now we were not just to eliminate beings disloyal to the New Order with maximum efficiency, but also to remove the Emperor. Put Jax on the throne."
"And Quest and the other Council members would become his inner circle," I continued.
"That was the plan," the young woman agreed.
"And the talk of appointing me or Kaine as Emperor was a manipulation attempt."
"I think there's no point confirming your guesses anymore," the baroness sighed. "Exactly right. Using you and the Grand Moff with the promise of coronation in exchange for destroying the Empire's enemies. Naturally, neither of you would have lived to see that moment."
Obviously.
An interesting plan.
Dangling a benefit — for me and for Kaine, leading the Empire would have been a good boost for solving our respective problems.
He would have satisfied his carefully masked hunger for power.
I'm sure if a path to the throne had been cleared for him, Arden would have forgotten all about his fear of excessive power.
Mitth'raw'nuruodo, having become Emperor, could easily have prepared nearly half the galaxy for war with the Yuuzhan Vong.
That's why he started the campaign.
But despite his genius, he never understood it was a trap for an alien.
So it turns out, even if he had won in the events I knew, he (or Kaine) would have been eliminated so Carnor Jax could be crowned.
Well, I know the rest.
Creating the Dominion and his own fleet scared the Council.
They started looking for ways to destroy him, provoking invasions for a retaliatory strike.
They eliminated Baron D'Asta, hoping to disrupt supply lines.
But the baron's daughter's clone, for some reason, refused to accept her father's murder and began her own fight for the sector.
Which they tried to take from her by working with the other Houses, all of whom were resisting the baroness's forces.
Only one question remains unanswered:
"How did you get in contact with Black Sun?" I asked.
"Karivus, before connecting me with Quest, told me he had a business partner who could secure me the support of some Imperial factions that had broken away earlier."
Now this was very interesting.
"Which factions?" I asked.
"Xandel didn't name them. Only later did I learn it was about some deranged clone with a number instead of a name, and the faction of Palpatine's former assassin, Ennix Devian," the baroness explained.
And this was extremely interesting.
So, some subject had maintained communication between these factions and the Imperial Ruling Council member Xandel Karivus?
"I destroyed both factions," an indifferent admission.
"Yes, I know," she replied. "And Moff Delurin, whose help I was counting on during the power struggle, also turned out to be unavailable. I assume you eliminated him too?"
"Are you sure you want the answer?" I asked.
"Not really," the baroness admitted. "Moff Gronn and his fleet that disappeared before the attack on Orinda — your doing too?"
"Were you connected with Gronn too?" I asked.
"I was negotiating support when I met Karivus's contact," Feena said frankly.
"And who was that?"
The baroness exhaled heavily and cursed quietly.
"I simply took time, on Karivus's advice, to rest and relax. I arranged a short leave, met a designated ship in the middle of space, boarded it, and met the messenger. He led me to a man who introduced himself as Yu'll Asib," and there was the late councilor from the Corporate Sector showing himself. "It turned out I was on Sol Mon's pirate ship. I saw him then for the first time. And until now, I assumed it would be the last. Asib offered me his support and influence, as well as all the resources of Black Sun available within the Imperial Ruling Council, in exchange for reciprocal services."
"Which were?" I asked.
"He wanted to know the movements of certain councilors — including those belonging to the reconciliation group with the New Republic. He wanted to know about raids in Imperial Space, as well as plans to subjugate other Remnants or sectors. They were especially interested in pro-Imperial sectors near the Corporates, as well as the Tion Cluster, Tapani, and the Galactic Core."
"Yu'll Asib promised you support from other Imperial factions like Delurin, Devian, X1, Gronn?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied. "But not personally — through the messenger who first met me."
How fascinating.
"Who was that?"
"I'd never seen him before," the baroness admitted. "He didn't give his name either. He said he would stay in touch — if I needed anything, I could simply ask Grappa the Hutt for help."
"And did you ask?" I clarified.
"Yes, the Hutts sponsored several of my projects."
"Which ones?"
"Do you think my father won the tender for shipping across all Imperial Space on his own?" the baroness asked with a chuckle. "Or that the ISB just turned a blind eye to what he says and what appeasement policy he follows? Besides, being a councilor isn't profitable if you have no source of money. Bribes, payoffs, balls and parties, funding the removal of rivals and traitors — all of that requires funds."
"I assume you also informed your new partners about targets for elimination?" I asked.
"Yes," the baroness replied. "And over time, I noticed that some of them, as soon as I mentioned Quest's group was considering their liquidation, changed their stance to the opposite within a few weeks."
"Interesting," I said, pulling the gloves from my belt and beginning to put them on slowly. "Do you know where I can find the broker who met you on the ship before your conversation with Asib?"
"No idea," she shrugged. "And is he really that important?"
"We'll judge that after we finish the current operation," I said. "Has anyone tried to contact you since you entered the fight for the sector?"
"Asib's messenger," she replied. "Right before the attack and kidnapping."
"What was the conversation about?"
"He warned me I'd regret my choice. Told me to lay down my arms and support the other houses of the sector. I refused."
Interesting.
"Have the forces of the other Houses always consisted of mercenaries?"
"No," the woman stated. "But we crushed their ceremonial troops in the first weeks. The mercenaries showed up later. And the front reached a stalemate."
Likely.
"Did you report the movements of representatives from the other Houses of the D'Astan sector to any of your patrons?" I asked.
"Yes," the Baroness frowned. "They flew to some conference in the Corporate Sector. Probably hiring an army there through shell companies. But what does that have to do with anything?"
"Everything," because it explains why all the Houses of the sector are opposing the Baroness. They, just like her, are clones. The question is only why she rebelled after the 'brainwashing,' and they didn't.
But I'm afraid the Baroness won't be able to answer that.
"Are you familiar with a sentient named Makus Kaynif?" I inquired, watching the woman's reaction closely.
If this sentient were in Imperial databases, I'd have shown her a holo.
But unfortunately, if the records we have are to be believed, no one has ever used that combination of first and last name.
Which means — erased tracks.
And very thoroughly swept ones at that.
"First I'm hearing of it," the Baroness admitted.
And her reaction, her body language — everything says that was the truth.
Not the absolute truth — but her truth.
At least the Baroness herself believes it.
There's nothing more to subjectively get from her.
For now.
"Thank you for the informative conversation," I finished pulling the gloves tight over my palms and looked the clone in the eyes. "You may return to your quarters, Baroness. We're done."
The woman raised an eyebrow.
"That's it?" she asked.
"That's all I'm interested in for now," I admitted.
"Well, I have a couple of questions," the lady was palpably angry. "Like this one: 'What am I doing on this ship while there's a civil war going on in my sector?' Or: 'Don't you want to show your strategic talent and rid me of the Black Sun operatives?' Because if not, then why the hell should my factories ship goods to the Dominion, get upgraded equipment in return, but no army that could solve all my problems? Even a couple of Star Destroyers would have been enough to scatter my enemies' fleet. Or do you have other plans for the D'Astan sector, Grand Admiral?"
Persistent.
But she's right about one thing — the situation calls for personal intervention in the civil war.
This is no longer a Hutt operation to seize the sector.
This is, in fact, a Zann Consortium operation to conquer rich, industrially capable sectors.
The Baroness's story confirmed my worst suspicions — the Empire didn't fracture on its own.
It was done deliberately, to digest the 'elephant' piece by piece.
Whether Ennix Devian was a clone — I'll never know.
Delurin — he wasn't.
But he didn't control the Remnant either.
Just a planet populated by warlike reptiles.
Gronn — a clone.
X1 — also a clone.
But created on Kamino.
Feena — also a clone.
But while Gronn pushed for secession, Feena pushed for annexing territories to the Empire.
Where's the logic?
Why program her that way?
"I'll deal with your problem, Baroness, as soon as I deprive the Zann Consortium, disguised as Black Sun, of its ability to produce clones," I said. "A considerable number of which, judging by your story, came into existence with your direct participation."
"So I can contact my supporters from aboard the Chimaera and tell them I'm alive, that help is coming?" the lady clarified.
"Do it without my permission, and you'll be dumped into vacuum," I warned. "There are certainly more Zann Consortium spies in your circle than real friends."
"If that were true, they'd have destroyed me for sure..."
"Why would they do that, when you were meant to be either re-programmed or replaced with a new clone, as I see it?" I inquired. "Besides, even among the army fighting for the Baroness's interests, there will always be those who, one way or another, refuse to obey orders once she disappears, and her inner circle changes its policies, becoming a threat..."
I cut myself off mid-sentence.
Oh. Well, well.
How simple.
"Grand Admiral?" the woman clarified. "Are you alright?"
"Certainly," I confirmed.
"You just suddenly stopped your speech," the woman looked at me warily. "I was getting worried..."
"It's fine, Baroness," I said, offering a restrained smile. "I just realized why you weren't programmed like an ordinary 'sleeper agent' for the Zann Consortium."
"And why is that?" she asked.
I looked at the ship's chronometer.
"You have half an hour to change into clothes suitable for a field operation," I informed her. "If you wish, you may accompany me to the surface of the world where you were born."
"We're returning to Nal Hutta?" the clone was surprised.
"No," I replied. "We're flying to the planet Smarck. The location of the Zann Consortium's cloning laboratory."