Ten years, two months, and twenty-three days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or the forty-fifth year, second month, and twenty-third day after the Great Resynchronization.
(Nine months and eight days since the Arrival.)
Many roads lead into the Corporate Sector.
And even more are hidden within this region.
The hyperspace route known as the Shaltin Tunnels began in a territory known as Farana, located in the northern part of the Corporate Sector, crossed the latter from north to south and then, through the Vyl, Chorlian, and other sectors, led directly to the planet Lianna.
And from there, via regional hyperspace routes, or through the Perlemian Trade Route, one could reach almost any point in the galaxy.
Given the inclination and time for such a journey.
A mere one and a half light-years from the invisible borders of the Corporate Sector, effectively in interstellar void not yet part of the Vyl sector, but possessing one undeniable quality — no planets, asteroids, or even nearby stars here — starships transitioned to sublight speed at a point on the Shaltin Tunnels hyperspace route.
They didn't activate their transponders or identification systems.
Most weren't even armed.
A significant portion of this flotilla consisted of transport starships that, in the past, had been simple (or not-so-simple) civilian transport vessels.
But the outcome of their mission depended on perhaps even more than the actions of a lone Imperial-class Star Destroyer and two Providence-class carrier/destroyers holding position on three sides of the transports.
"All ships have arrived in full complement, sir," the watch officer addressed Captain Astorias. "No losses among the transports."
"Good." The commander of the Stormhawk gazed calmly into the interstellar void, hands clasped behind his back, eyes fixed on the transparisteel of the central viewport. "Commence the laying operation."
"Aye, sir!"
The three destroyers were first to act.
Spreading out like a wide net, they began ejecting dozens of spherical objects into space.
Each was the size of a TIE Interceptor cockpit, but their internal payload was entirely different.
And their number wasn't as great as the commanders of these destroyers would have liked.
But regardless, the mass-shadow mines were placed according to the positions allotted in the general mining plan.
Once they were set in the center of the hyperspace route and began registering on scanners, the destroyers left the mining zone, making way for the unarmed ships.
The battle-worn transports took their place and began deploying mines of a more conventional design, equipped with sensors, explosive charges, and maneuvering micro-thrusters.
These mines were arranged around the mass-shadow mines in several echelons, creating truly massive barriers in the path of travelers.
Hour after hour passed, and the transports continued their work.
Dozens of mines.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Tens of thousands.
"Who would have thought these rusty buckets would ever be needed," Captain Astorias remarked, watching the starships — most in such a deplorable state they could hardly function for a few more standard years — engage in an activity for which the Empire had created specialized mine-layers.
But no such starships existed in the Dominion's arsenal.
Super Star Destroyers, Star Destroyers, battle cruisers, heavy cruisers, patrol cruisers, corvettes, frigates, gunships — all types for every taste, but not a single one suitable for this role.
Not to mention that every single one had prescribed combat missions they were currently fulfilling.
Of course, that applied to those with full crews on board.
"Mine laying complete, sir," the watch officer reported to Morgot. "All mines deployed according to plan."
"Good," said the Stormhawk's commander. "Request status reports from the pilots. If there are no malfunctions, we fall back to the supply point, load new mines, and move out to the Hydian Way. We still have plenty of work ahead."
"Aye, sir," the watch officer saluted, turning smartly over his left shoulder and striding briskly toward the pits.
Morgot gestured to the communications officer to open a channel to the ships of interest.
"Stormhawk calling Black Pearl and Colicoid Swarm," he said, addressing the two holograms of the auxiliary ships' commanders. "We are preparing to return to base."
"About time," a yawn came from beneath Captain Tyberos's mask. "I was starting to get bored, babysitting these slowpokes."
"Is the principle of constructing mine barriers understood?" Morgot clarified, ignoring the former privateer's demonstrative displeasure.
"Perfectly clear, sir," Captain Irv replied calmly, commanding the second Providence.
"Captain Tyberos?" Morgot looked at the second hologram.
"Clear as a Tatooine midday," the other replied, uncharacteristically disregarding regulations. "Only easier than breaking heads."
"I trust your attentiveness, gentlemen," Captain Astorias continued. "Because the following mine laying operations you will conduct independently, detached from the Stormhawk."
Irv showed no reaction.
But Tyberos hesitated briefly, then resumed a proud, self-assured posture.
"We'll manage," he declared.
"I hope so," Astorias replied. "Because failure will mean you answer personally to Grand Admiral Thrawn."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Tyberos stated.
"And it will be the last," Morgot stepped closer. "Ensure the mass-shadow mines are not activated and their transceivers operate on the set frequency. The barriers must remain a secret from our enemy until the order for their activation comes from the Supreme Commander. This is critically important for all operations."
"Orders understood, sir," Irv responded.
"Likewise," Tyberos echoed. "But I'd gladly keep hunting 'corporate' convoys."
"Your personal desires are of no interest to anyone, Captain Tyberos," Morgot cut the auxiliary commander down. "You are part of the regular fleet. An order has been given to you — you will carry it out. It can be no other way."
"Actually, the Grand Admiral himself gave us our previous assignments," Tyberos objected. "Which makes it somewhat unclear why we should follow your orders without Thrawn's confirmation."
"I have no such confusion," Irv shook his head.
Morgot fixed Tyberos with a piercing look.
"My orders come from Grand Admiral Thrawn," he explained. "Whether you like it or not, they will be carried out."
"Hypothetically — what if not?" Tyberos snorted.
"Hypothetically — then I will grind you to dust," Morgot said quietly but firmly. "Anyone who dares to disobey an order. I don't think I need to explain in detail what will happen to you. Any questions, Captains?"
Naturally, there were none.
* * *
Once, during the Galactic Civil War — which is to say, recently — this complex was called the "Satoya Weapons Factory."
It was located in the star system of the same name, Satoya, in the Mieru'kar sector, and was listed in the Ubiqtorate's registries.
As a Rebel Alliance asset.
After all, who in their right mind would hide in poorly charted, remote systems to avoid drawing the Galactic Empire's close attention to their activities?
The dangerous, lawless outer sectors of the galaxy had always served as numerous refuges for all manner of scum of every stripe, race, and variety.
It was only a matter of time before this boil on the galaxy's body burst and brought even more grief and destruction.
But, surprisingly enough, for once Imperial Intelligence worked thoroughly — Rear Admiral I-Gor had seen this place in its "pristine condition."
When Imperial scouts landed on the planet to verify data on Republic and Rebel bases throughout Dominion territory, they found only traces of a total purge in this mountain range — tens of kilometers of interconnected, artificially carved tunnels.
Some Imperial unit had spared no expense on an orbital strike on the cliff hiding this weapons factory, after which ground forces were deployed and a total sweep conducted.
One cavern after another.
The investigators who undoubtedly arrived here after the Imperial victory had done a thorough job — absolutely everything was removed from the caverns, from remnants of Rebel equipment down to the wiring and lighting systems.
But the location of this base was indeed good.
One might say the Rebels had a truly inhuman compulsion to bury their assets underground and establish subterranean bases, but if you knew nothing about tactics, yes, it might even seem ridiculous.
In reality, many meters of rock — granite, marble, and simply high-hardness stone — allowed those who chose to set up here to forget about protection "from above."
Over a hundred meters of rock from the edge of the nearest cavern to the surface of the massif — protection more serious than a Star Destroyer's armor.
In principle, among the known systems of the Mieru'kar sector, planets housing someone's bases were quite common.
Take the planet Great Selttaye, where the late pirate Saphon Peldon's had hidden his fleet and base in a branched network of naturally formed caverns.
Or the Tiraggi system, where on the orbit of the namesake planet, on one of its two moons, the Rebels had also placed their outpost deep within underground caverns formed over thousands of years by hot springs eroding the rock — springs perfectly suitable for bathing.
Of course, no one in their right mind would go there anymore — even Imperial Intelligence, upon learning of a Rebel base on Tiraggi's second moon, didn't dare attempt a ground assault.
They simply destroyed the Rebels' few starships and trapped them on the planet.
Seemingly a strange decision — the infection needed to be completely eradicated, sparing nothing.
However, the scouts and Imperial fleet command deemed it unwise to storm a base so labyrinthine and dangerously positioned near reservoirs of boiling water...
That said, it didn't prevent the scouts from eliminating a rather large Rebel band on the planet and reporting the mission's successful completion.
How they managed it is unknown.
But afterward, the Imperial Navy's medical service issued a direct ban on visiting this paradise planet, breathable under Type I atmospheric conditions.
The reasons were never explained to anyone.
And apparently, the Dominion also knew something about the system's danger, as it was closed to visitation.
Which, however, didn't stop Dominion transport starships from making regular trips there.
Rear Admiral I-Gor knew this for certain, because he commanded the Dominion's armed forces in this sector.
Just like Moff Brinkkan, who was responsible for the civilian direction of the Dominion's activities in Mieru'kar, I-Gor had certain tasks assigned to him — not by the Triumvirate, which remained merely a public facade for most sentients in the galaxy, but by the Grand Admiral himself.
And the protection of the Tiraggi system was prioritized for the Vice Admiral.
Thrawn did not care to explain why the system was so important to the Dominion.
He merely indicated that access to it should be denied by any means available.
And personally informed I-Gor of the protocol of action in case of an enemy invasion of the system.
Regular army fighters were strictly forbidden from descending to the second moon of Tiraggi — and there had already been precedents where patrols, without the slightest hesitation, destroyed those curious souls who intended to go there.
This did not mean, however, that the moon was completely empty.
Even with the naked eye, one could make out on its surface, near the mountainous regions, the medical facility structures built by construction droids and a large volume of shipping containers that were being delivered to the planet.
Only a single type of starship — old transport vessels, literally falling apart as they flew, captured the previous year during raiding attacks by the "Wolf Packs" were permitted to land on and take off from the planet.
They appeared rarely, were piloted exclusively by droid pilots, and also had special permits to visit the planet.
And they never repeated themselves.
Roughly speaking, the same freighter never appeared near Tiraggi's second moon twice.
And they were never seen anywhere else in the Dominion.
Which suggested certain thoughts: after such a voyage, the ships were either destroyed or moved to a special scrapyard, where they lived out their obviously short lives (due to the wear and tear on practically all hull and system components).
Sometimes the Vice Admiral was tempted to ask the Grand Admiral a direct question: "What is the mission of these starships?"
But then he figured it out for himself.
The answer was given to him by the ships' arrival schedule.
They arrived at the second moon no more than twice a month.
With a gap of fifteen days.
Exactly the time needed to produce the clones that made up the bulk of the Dominion's armed forces.
The Dominion's cloning laboratory — that was what was located on Tiraggi's second moon.
No wonder Thrawn had ordered a huge amount of forces and resources dedicated to the defense of this system.
The planet's orbit was entirely covered by minefields, blocking every trajectory except the few used by the droids.
Simple space mines, which couldn't be gotten rid of except by destroying them with weapons fire or with the hull of one's own ship.
Nothing new — such mines had been used by the Confederacy of Independent Systems to protect their key planets, like Hypori, during the Clone Wars.
They were cheap to produce; the filling consisted only of explosive material and a system for contact and recognizable detonation.
And, judging by the size of these mines, which reached the diameter of a speeder from nose to stern, they contained a considerable amount of baradium or nergon-14.
Still, it was more than likely that the explosives used were rhydonium, often employed by Dominion forces in various military projects.
In any case, the forces placed under I-Gor's command were on permanent duty at the backwaters of the galaxy and the Dominion, guarding what was perhaps the most strategically important and valuable secret of the state: the place where new fighters for the regular Armed Forces of the Dominion were born.
Was there a more responsible and honorable role for a military officer loyal to his state?
Probably not.
Yet I-Gor was nagged by one persistent question, relating to the words of Grand Admiral Thrawn.
What part of a big trap are he and Zyix K'zzt?
Because, even though the Grand Admiral had promised, he had revealed nothing critically important or secret during the briefing.
He outlined tasks for the Vice Admiral and the cloner, and that was it.
Adding that the entire success of the trap he had planned would depend on the thorough execution of the task set before them.
But, as I-Gor understood it, Zyix K'zzt's task boiled down to providing the Dominion with regular supplies of stable clones of the highest quality.
And I-Gor, as he now understood, was to guard the cloning laboratory.
But why didn't Thrawn say so directly?
Why all this allegory, when he could have set the task clearly and without the slightest ambiguity?
And, finally, what was the trap?
Did the Grand Admiral intend to lure the enemy into a trap using the cloning laboratory?
Grand Admiral Thrawn was certainly a strategist, but setting up ambushes like that, risking critically important infrastructure…
The Supreme Commander undoubtedly had his reasons, but understanding exactly what they were and why it was necessary to act in this particular way was practically impossible without outside help…
"Sir, urgent report from observation station six," the watch officer informed him, appearing nearby.
I-Gor pulled himself away from his thoughts and looked at the screen of the personal datapad handed to him.
His eyes ran over the lines of the message.
"Is the information confirmed?" he inquired.
"By listening post number two," the watch officer nodded.
Tracking stations and listening posts — that was the secret weapon of the regular fleet, scattered across all territories of the Dominion and the nearest surrounding areas as measures for early warning and notification of movements of large enemy forces or unregistered communications.
They also helped to find the approximate vector of starship movement, as well as the source of transmissions.
Despite being built by the regular fleet, they also served the intelligence efforts of the moffs exploring new territories in their sectors, allowing them to identify highly developed civilizations, spy ships, impulse transmitters (with a sufficiently large area of probable source location), or foreign satellites.
A considerable number of pirate and smuggler bases had been discovered precisely thanks to such secret installations, which safeguarded the sleep and peace of the Dominion's citizens.
Counterintelligence also adored these installations, but, unlike the scouts, Colonel Astarion's department not only suspected their existence (counterintelligence and the regular fleet had equal access to facilities and personnel at each installation), they also, without asking questions about where and how the regular fleet obtained data that might interest them from a professional standpoint.
Of course, it was a shame about the territorial scouts — their unfair treatment was unfortunate.
But they were subordinate to the Defense Forces and had nothing to do with the active Armed Forces.
"Have we identified the ships' affiliation?" I-Gor inquired.
"Tentatively," the watch officer pointed to a line of the report on the next page. "The data matches information from the fleet archive. For a more detailed identification, a spy droid needs to be sent into the system where they are adjusting their course."
It took I-Gor a few seconds to cross-reference the deployment of regular fleet ships in the sector and, based on this data, realize that none of them would get there in time before the intruders left their anchorage.
There might be one more opportunity, maybe two.
The unknown starships were moving from the northern part of the Mieru'kar sector, and there were a large number of gravitational anomalies there that complicated navigation.
Reconnaissance ships, and especially the Defense Forces, did not venture there on a permanent basis.
Except perhaps…
"There should be an escort frigate of the Defense Forces in the Petrusia system," he said. "That's the closest ship to the enemy's base location."
Escort frigates were no longer a luxury but an integral part of transport convoys to remote parts of the Dominion, where peace and order had not yet been fully established.
Petrusia was not the most advanced world, inhabited by creatures speaking a so-called "musical language."
They were absolutely peaceful, non-confrontational, often starving sentients who had recently joined the Dominion.
Moff Brinkkan provided them with food, technology, and conducted surveys of the planet for mineral resources with enviable regularity.
It wasn't going very well — the world was poor in both fertile soil and metal deposits.
This, in fact, explained the low population density and the lack of advanced technology.
"You want to send conscripts there?" the watch officer blinked.
"Captain Pryl and the conscripts fought in the battle of Smarck," I-Gor reminded him. "They suffered losses in battle, but not one of them showed cowardice; instead, they buried headquarters in reports requesting transfer to the regular fleet. Yes, I want to send them there. But not to fight. To close with the enemy to within reliable identification range, launch spy droids, and get out. It's a simple task, one that even 'greenhorn' conscripts can handle."
Not to mention that, in critically important moments, the regular fleet could completely assume command of the Defense Forces.
"Yes, sir," the watch officer, apparently also recalling this principle, rushed to the communicators.
He stayed near them for exactly a few minutes before returning to the commander at the same pace — practically at a run.
"Sir, the escort frigate is not in the Petrusia system," he said, not at all out of breath.
"What do you mean?" I-Gor asked, taken aback.
He looked at the chronometer in the bridge, checking the correctness of his understanding of today's date.
"They should still be there for another day before they leave."
"Sir, they can't leave there because they were never there," the watch officer stated. "We contacted the frigate — they've been rerouted to the southern territories of the sector. There have been no deliveries."
"Did Brinkkan decide to deceive the Petrusians about expanding their arable land?" I-Gor frowned. "That's absurd. If this isn't finished in the next few days, the weather will change, and the crops won't be sown or harvested. Consequently, they simply won't survive last year's crop failure and will die out to a Hutt."
As far as he remembered, the current delivery was supposed to bring the machinery needed to clear new planting areas to the planet.
And that was critically important.
The Moff couldn't just…
I-Gor's expression darkened.
"Contact every ship larger than a cutter belonging to the Defense Forces in the sector," he ordered. "And request their locations."
He still held onto the hope that a suitable ship with conscripts might be found somewhere.
"Report the results to me and prepare a communication session with the Chimaera," I-Gor finally commanded, looking through the transparisteel of the bridge at the starships of his squadron. "There's still time, but we need to prepare for battle."
"Do you think they're coming for us?" the watch officer clarified.
"I'm certain of it," I-Gor added grimly. "And I think I know the reason why."
* * *
When Captain Astorias's hologram dissolved and their small flotilla jumped into hyperspace, Irv massaged his temples with his fingers.
"I don't like this whole business at all," Yazuo declared with unexpected seriousness, appearing beside him. "Astorias isn't Shohashi, of course — just an average middle-of-the-roader — but I'm somehow inclined to believe his promise to deal with us."
"In the event that we don't follow orders," Aut-O's head rasped. "I don't think our ship's commander has such a desire."
"Right now, I have only one desire," Irv muttered. "To scream like a Bantha being butchered by a Rancor. Because time and again, every time I set a new goal for our journey, Thrawn comes up with some new assignment for us."
"Yes, this alien knows how to spoil the pleasure of thinking you're independent corsairs," no, droids couldn't giggle. "Whenever he wants, you do what he needs. My logic chains snap and fly off into the Maw Cluster at the thought of what pathetic pirates I'm forced to serve at the present time."
It's all in his head.
Droids can't express or display emotions.
Just a simple lack of sleep, nothing more.
"Since when did a head start whining about its droid fate?" Yazuo inquired with deliberate loudness, demonstratively shifting his vibro-pike from one hand to the other.
Aut-O's head watched his movements intently, as if the tactical super droid actually feared that the destroyer's executive officer might harm him in the presence of the ship's commander himself.
"Since the moment a traitor started commanding one of the three best ships of the CIS fleet," Aut-O declared.
Irv, ceasing his activity, gave the tactical super droid's head a playful cuff.
"You can pray to your god, Aut-O, but nothing's going to change," Irv warned. "You and I are the last 'Separatists' still in service. And as it happens, you're going to serve me."
"Keep hoping, human," no, the piece of junk definitely snorted. "Ever since you hooked up with this Thrawn, I've been functioning successfully, even without engaging tactical protocols."
"Do we really need him?" Vane inquired.
"Really," Irv confirmed, turning the head toward himself by its optical sensors. "Now go ahead and strain your vaunted protocols and figure out the situation — what are we doing, and why?"
"We are laying mines," Aut-O stated impassively. "For the uninformed, I will explain, according to the 'Regulations on Tactical Defensive Operations.' 'Mine-laying is carried out with the purpose of…'"
"Stop," Irv interrupted the outpouring. "I know the theory, I understand it. I've laid mines myself many times. It's primarily a defensive weapon. Secondarily, a blocking one. But what does Thrawn need to defend in the Corporate Sector?"
"The question is different — why do it now? And specifically at the Shaltin Tunnels?" Vane spoke up.
"Based on our raids and the placement of buzz droids throughout the Chorlian sector, it can be assumed that it is precisely through the Shaltin Tunnels that goods and objects which the Grand Admiral does not wish to be removed are flowing out of the Corporate Sector," Aut-O put forward his hypothesis. "This would then confirm the theory of using minefields as a blocking weapon. A lack of data prevents a more accurate analysis."
"It doesn't add up," Irv shook his head. "Astorias himself said that our mining work will increase in volume — the next laying will be carried out by three groups at once. Consequently, another three routes will be blocked. But which ones isn't clear."
"Of the routes leading from the explored galaxy into the Corporate Sector, the only one left is probably the Hydian Way," Vane said after a moment's thought. "Which other two does Thrawn intend to block?"
"Analysis is incorrect — we don't have access to the information," At-O repeated. "It would be more expedient to draw conclusions based directly on the coordinates we receive upon returning to base."
"That will be a separate mission," Irv reminded him. "And I don't have much desire to dive into it without understanding exactly whom we intend to screw by dropping them out of hyperspace in the middle of a minefield."
"The nature of the weaponry used gives reason to believe that the most likely targets are ships using modern tracking systems," Aut-O unexpectedly stated.
"Elaborate," Irv frowned.
"The simple mine samples we just laid have a minimal set of active sensors," the tactical super droid's head explained. "Like the micro-motors, they give off a small signature on modern scanners, or are invisible to older versions. The design features of the mines do not allow them to approach a target faster than is done in more modern mines, like those used by Kuat Drive Yards to protect the secret route to the planet Rothana. Considering that the Dominion has access to the unique technology of Kuat Drive Yards — mass-shadow mines — it can be stated that they possess data on the best example of weaponry but consciously use one that is characterized by slowness in reaching its target. It can be assumed that this is done due to the specification of targets — ships of non-modern design, whose scanning frequency range and processor speed are predictably inferior. This gives the simple mines time to reach the ship before countermeasures are undertaken."
"Modern design…" Vane repeated. "What kind?"
"Scanning installations produced no later than forty years ago fall into this category," the droid explained. "Due to the lack of more recent databases, I am unable to provide you with more precise information. However, I should note that, according to the requirements of the Anaxis Military Academy, systems are updated every decade."
The men exchanged glances.
"Consequently, the trap was designed specifically for ships that were commissioned before the height of the Empire," Irv surmised. "Venators. Acclamators. Dreadnoughts… Even the Victory-class — those are no longer 'modern ships' either. And the equipment on them is at best a decade old. As I recall, they stopped upgrading them around the tenth year of Imperial rule in the galaxy."
"Interesting situation," Vane chuckled. "So then… Let's remember the 'Corporates' trademark move — buying old junk, but in large quantities."
"So the trap was created specifically for their fleet," Irv nodded. "Of course, it's too early to judge from one mine-laying operation. But it seems to me the picture will be exactly the same in the subsequent ones."
"But there's still a question," Yazuo persisted. "What exactly does Thrawn want to achieve? To blockade the 'Corporate' fleet inside the sector, or to prevent outside help from reaching them?"
"I don't think we have that level of loyalty clearance that would allow us to get an honest answer to that question," Irv said with a sigh. "Oh well… If Thrawn's target is the 'Corporates,' then there's not much to worry about. Our Colicoid Swarm is roughly in the same weight class as most of their fleet."
"It would be, if you got more money for its modernization," this time Aut-O's voice sounded like a grumble.
"This is why I'm still single," Irv concluded. "I wouldn't survive a second brain-saw."
* * *
As soon as the hologram of the Shadow Guard, the former Inquisitor Reynar Obscuro, materialized after overcoming the interference caused by the masking systems, our eyes met.
"Grand Admiral, your task is complete," he said.
"Excellent," I replied. "Therefore, can I assume you know the timeframe for the destroyers captured by the Alliance at the battle of Lantilles to become operational?"
"Yes," the man answered. "In twelve days, they will be fully combat-ready, crewed, and prepared for deployment to any part of the galaxy."
"Faster than expected," I remarked.
"Work has accelerated at the shipyards," Obscuro explained. "The restoration of ships — not only these, but all that the Alliance delivers there — is being carried out twice as fast."
"Have additional workers been hired?"
"Yes. Just as security requirements have been heightened, and inspections are being conducted on every worker reporting for their shift," the former Inquisitor said. "The hiring of new workers occurs under the watchful eye of the shipyards' own security service. Only local residents with a high public rating are accepted for work. The rest are weeded out as unreliable. But this doesn't affect the number of people wanting to get in there — the higher pay rate does its job."
"Understood," I leaned back in my chair. "Is your source of information reliable?"
"As reliable as the shipyard manager can be," a smirk appeared on Reynar's lips. "And he's informed about everything happening there to the same extent that he's susceptible to tipsy Twi'leks."
Well, that last phrase explained how Obscuro had obtained the information I was interested in.
"Return to the Shadow Guard base," I ordered. "You will receive your new assignment later."
"Yes, Grand Admiral," the man bowed, and his blue-and-white volumetric projection dissolved in the air.
I shifted my gaze to my adjutant, who stood silently beside my desk, upon which lay a datapad with operational summaries.
As was proper, he had provided them, having filtered out routine reports and presented only a dry summary of the positions of the Dominion's internal and external affairs.
The Triumvirate was capable of handling the more minor matters on its own, within its scope of competence.
"The tightening of security measures on Lantilles is no coincidence," Grodin stated.
"Yes," I agreed. "The Alliance is increasing its efforts to combat agents within its ranks. The incident with their cruisers and our use of their starships to create a point of tension in the Thanium Worlds played its part. The enemy learns from its mistakes. Though they draw incorrect conclusions."
Which, of course, played into our hands.
I needed an "intermediary" for a time.
And the Alliance, which was impossible to negotiate with, would serve perfectly as a structure capable of holding out for several months under three-sided pressure.
At least, as long as they were busy looking for agents — which we never had and do not have on Lantilles — I could rest assured that they would not interfere in my showdown with the "Zann Consortium" and gain new sectors adjacent to the Perlemian Trade Route as allies (or conquer them).
"Meanwhile, they intend to set the Tion Hegemony and Allied Tion at each other's throats," Tierce reminded me.
"Correct," I agreed again. "Misconceptions lead to unpleasant consequences, which they have yet to face. The results of this confrontation will not please them."
"Yes, sir," Grodin Tierce replied, looking at the datapad and indicating his intention to move on to more important reports. "Our scouts report the movement of a large number of unknown ships in the north of the Mieru'kar sector. Tracking stations note engine signatures characteristic of Aggressor-class Star Destroyers and Vengeance-class frigates. The Zann Consortium continues its offensive."
"Is that so," I narrowed my eyes. "An interesting priority of targets."
"They ignored the obvious target in sector Korva, — Grodin said in a measured tone. — They probably decided they managed to divert our forces from the center of the metropolis to the borders. Observers recorded the presence of transport ships escorted by combat starships. I assume they've moved to the second phase.
"It's unlikely that this idea directly drives them, — I said, thoughtful. — No, this is a carefully calculated maneuver. They tried to attack our perimeter but achieved no significant success. Now they're using that notorious unknown path through the northern territories of Mieru'kar to reach the Tiraggi system. They'll strike a second blow via Galaanus.
"An attack on Tiraggi could have forced us to pull part of our forces from the perimeter deeper into the territories, — Tierce reasoned logically.
"Indeed, — I agreed. — It could have. But the formations will stay in their positions. The enemy knows the location of our secrets, seeks them out, and is filled with a desire to win…
I cut myself off, leaving the thought unfinished.
Quite an interesting combination, it turns out.
A double strike.
With all forces?
I did everything to make sure it happened exactly like this.
The question is different — how strong will the second flotilla be that I intend to stop at this line?
Is it worth risking a hypothetical breakthrough when you can not risk it and play a different combination?
It won't be easy in any of the unpleasant options.
Whatever fleet the Zann Consortium has that's moving towards me, they'll clearly thin out the Perimeter's defenses on this sector.
Is it reasonable to take such a risk, knowing that this organization may have more than one agent of Palpatine?
By destroying the invasion fleet with the defensive line, I will exhaust the latter quite heavily.
Could the Emperor exploit this?
Given his advantage in the number of armed ships — more than sure that's exactly what he'll do.
The question is: are others ready to take such a blow?
Not so easy to say.
After all, the deliberate trap was created from scratch and is hardly suitable for full-scale fighting there…
Calling back the formations from the front is also wrong — because the double strike might be no more serious than a diversion for a breakthrough in a completely different direction.
Consequently, I'll have to make do with small forces.
Small — in quantitative terms, but not qualitative.
Funny how it turns out…
Tschel suggested withdrawing the ship, and I argued against it.
Now I'm considering exactly the same option.
And the young captain won't miss the chance to remind me of that.
Well, I won't be at a loss for words.
"Contact the commander of the defense sector, — I ordered. — I order the Perimeter on our sector of the front to be deactivated.
"It will be done, sir, — Grodin Tierce said in a matter‑of‑fact tone. — Should I inform Captain Tschel myself that we are leaving the station?
"Let's not spoil the young officer's moment of glory, — I smiled. — I'll tell him personally that he was right after all.
"As you wish, Grand Admiral, — Tierce saluted formally and silently left my office.