She entered this spacious hall only the second time in her life.
Or perhaps the last.
It depends solely on the mood of the master of this room.
This palace.
This planet.
For some reason, it seemed that her heels sounded muffled as she walked, as if she were not stepping on polished metal plates.
As if under her feet was a carpet styled to look like reflective metal.
But she who inherited the name of her original knew that this was not at all as it seemed.
Just imagination playing a cruel trick on her.
Approaching the massive chair in which sat a being dressed in a black robe, studying a map of the galaxy, she silently lowered herself to one knee.
And bowed her head submissively, mentally explaining it as paying homage to her master.
She did not utter a sound, knowing that it was completely unnecessary to draw attention to herself.
The master of this palace, sitting before her, knew perfectly well that she had arrived.
But he has more important matters than wasting time on her.
When the appropriate moment comes, she will be addressed.
Because she is not among the beings who have the right to distract the master of this palace from contemplation and reflection.
She thought of nothing, did not shift her attention to mulling over any of her own affairs or problems.
Just stared at the polished floor surface right in front of her and waited to be noticed.
How long she spent in a kneeling position, the clone of Ysanne Isard did not know.
She understood that she would stay that way exactly as long as necessary, until she earned attention.
"You have worked well," after some time, a young and energetic voice sounded.
Completely unlike the one she remembered from her predecessor's memories.
Just as strong, willful, commanding, brooking no argument.
Just slightly younger.
"Thank you, Emperor," she continued to look at the floor, understanding that she had not been allowed to raise her gaze.
The real Ysanne Isard might have been granted such an honor — to look the ruler in the eye.
But not a clone.
The clone had not yet earned such permission.
"You are wrong," stated the Emperor. "Look at me."
Ysanne raised her head, meeting the gaze of burning orange irises that dispelled the darkness under the hood.
"You have worked well," Palpatine repeated. "Hundreds of sycophants, cowards, pathetic fools, and mere enemies to my rule have been destroyed thanks to your work."
Ysanne remained silent.
Inner voice told her that the Emperor had not finished his current speech.
Interrupting his words would be a display of her own outright stupidity, inadequacy.
Not to mention that it would insult the Emperor.
And she was far from stupid and had no intention of spoiling the Emperor's mood right now.
"I never thought Isard could be so effective," the man continued, not addressing her, but as if voicing his thoughts aloud. "Just think... Commanders of hundreds of ships, squadrons, fleets joined me not because I am their Emperor, but because they wanted to grab as many benefits from my resources as possible. They responded to my call because they intended to be close to my feeding trough when my enemies got rid of me..."
Yes, it was good work.
For the benefit of her service.
She had reviewed hundreds of thousands of personnel files from hundreds of ships in the Emperor's fleet.
She started with the Super Star Destroyers and ended with the ordinary ones.
Every sailor and ensign, every lieutenant, executive officer, and ship commander — she had studied them all.
Most of them were beings loyal to the Empire.
For the most part — youth or junior officers.
Unfortunately — lacking proper war experience.
But at the same time, their loyalty to the Emperor was a key aspect of the work she was doing.
She was helping to purge the Imperial Starfleet of traitors and bootlickers who had come to Byss for plunder.
She studied the files and intelligence data gathered by Sate Pestage, operating under the guise of agent Blackhole.
Cross-referenced them with facts.
And time and again she sent data on every identified internal enemy of the Empire to the Emperor's apparatus.
To be honest, she thought that after the first dozen traitor admirals she had uncovered — who thought that by coming to Byss they would avoid being exposed — Mas Amedda was not supplying the Emperor with the rest of the data received from her.
"You are wrong," she could not see the Emperor's face, but sensed he was smiling. "Amedda understood perfectly well that he had a chance to rise, taking the place of Grand Vizier instead of Pestage, if he thoroughly blackened his work with your help."
Isard frowned.
Mas Amedda was using her data to use them to the detriment of the Empire's cause?!
"I am surrounded by idiots," disappointment sounded in the Emperor's voice. "Sate Pestage thought I would forgive him for his connections with the rebels and his flight from Coruscant if he presented me with as many troops and ships as possible. Without discerning whether they were worthy beings or traitors who decided to temporarily change their rotten hides..."
The clone remained silent, understanding that she was not being asked questions.
She was being shared thoughts with.
And that was worth a great deal.
"I see in you the same qualities that the Isard family had, before they got close to power," the Emperor continued. "Drive, cunning, audacity, calculation... Cronal figured out how to rid the galaxy of the rising 'Zann Consortium.' You creatively reworked his plan and extended it to all factions. To control not just one criminal force, but all of them at once, make them fight each other, pushing them to do so, without waiting for one side to be ripe to destroy the other..."
She was silent again.
No one was asking her.
"This is good," said Palpatine. "Truly good work. I think you are right — Cronal got too caught up in his own combinations and forgot what it was all started for. The planted Inquisitors will stir up this swamp, not allow them to gain the strength that would pose a major threat to my fleet and dominion..."
The clone silently heeded the Emperor's words.
"You are worthy of being called Ysanne Isard," said the ruler of the Galactic Empire. His eyes flashed unpleasantly. "But before you begin your work, I want to ask you a question, Ysanne."
"I am at your complete disposal, Emperor," this time a response was expected from her.
And she could not disappoint the Emperor's expectations.
"My strategists, those among them you have not exposed as traitors, recommend attacking the Dominion," the Emperor revealed. "While Imperial Space and the Alignment, as well as other fading remnants of my Empire, are on the offensive against the rebels, the Dominion is sitting on the sidelines. Pellaeon, foolish as he may be, is accumulating strength. Why do you think they should not be destroyed now? Especially in light of what our agents have discovered about Pellaeon's double-dealing in transferring his ships to the New Republic's disposal, which cost me Kaine and his fleet."
"Pellaeon is playing the role assigned to him," Isard replied calmly. "My agents have already suggested to him how to use the Vice Admiral to weaken the Alliance. In the near future, Pellaeon will spend his strength in war against Mon Mothma and her minions, and also bleed himself dry in battles with criminals. Which, according to Cronal's promises, should have already clashed in war with each other, but so far this has not happened. For a reason unknown to me. But I think you know what I do not. And Cronal, in fact, is not playing his own game but has indeed conceived something global," a meaningful snort came from Palpatine. "I assume that with the death of Ardus Kaine, Your Imperial Majesty has a need to absorb the Pentastar Alignment and fight the rebels calling themselves the 'New Republic.' The rebels and criminals in the north and east of the galaxy are about to start exterminating each other — the Inquisitors will push them in the right direction. The Dominion will lose its finest commanders and will have no chance whatsoever to resist you. You will only need to crook your finger, and all the worlds of the Dominion will fall at your feet. Well-appointed, intact, with developed infrastructure, and worried that no one and nothing can protect them against the armada you possess. As a result — the Dominion will eliminate crime by intervening at the right moment in their artificial feud. Simultaneously — it will eliminate the threat of a flank attack from the Alliance, forcing them into defense and thereby allowing you to get the necessary time to complete the purge of your forces, in order to take control of all the remnants of the Empire in the galaxy at once."
"A deeply thought-out intrigue and manipulation of the enemy," the Emperor's voice showed he was pleased. "Yes, you are indeed better than Iceheart. Not just an agent, but a strategist. I like this. From now on, you are a member of my inner circle. You will handle routine matters that require your involvement while I am occupied with subjugating the young Skywalker. For now, continue the purge of the army and fleet from traitors. This displeases Executor Sedriss, as it delays our operation 'Shadow Hand'... Do you have any objection to the Executor's remark?"
She did not even ponder her answer.
Because she had long ago calculated all the risks.
"What are called Imperial Remnants, no matter what they call themselves, are a pack of traitors," she said calmly. "The fact that Cronal discovered the substitution of moffs and warlords with clones and reached the 'Zann Consortium' to take control of the process means nothing yet. The traitors are still in their places. And, moreover — some of them once made contact with Grand Admiral Thrawn, supporting him. Although officially they avoided this, as Grand Moff Ardus Kaine did?"
"Kaine was a traitor and lucky to be dead," Palpatine said irritably. "But... Who are the other traitors? Baroness D'Asta?"
"My agents report at least two confirmed Remnant leaders whose connection to the Dominion is hard to deny," Isard said.
"And you have proof?" Palpatine's voice hit her like a frozen waterfall drenching her from head to toe.
"Yes," she replied simply. "Which is why I believe we should let the traitors die fighting the New Republic rebels who are preparing a counteroffensive. Let them all be wiped out, but let them serve a purpose on the battlefield."
"And in the process, the rebels will reclaim part of the galaxy!" Palpatine shot back, clearly losing patience. "It seems I was mistaken in thinking you were capable of strategic thought! You're suggesting we leave the Remnants without support so they die fighting the insurgents?! That's idiocy!"
"Perhaps I am not as intelligent as I would like to be, Emperor," Isard conceded. "But unlike Executor Sedriss, I can see that the more the New Republic and the Alliance fight the Imperial Remnants, the more they rearm and equip their forces with the latest weapons. My spies report that Fey'lya has ordered the construction of hundreds of new Republic-class Star Destroyers — the coming victory in the Humbarine sector and the captured industry will allow him to complete them by the end of this year."
"And you propose we retreat so they can seize the territories Kaine reclaimed, and in doing so, build even more ships?!" Palpatine's voice rose. "By the time you finish your purges in my Armed Forces, they'll have hundreds of new Star Destroyers! And we'll have to retake the abandoned territories from an even more battle-ready enemy! Where is the plan for my triumph in this?!"
"The plan, Your Imperial Majesty, is that the Democratic Faction will only build those ships in one scenario," Isard said calmly. "If they cannot win victories while equipped with old Mon Calamari cruisers, then fear of defeat will drive them to support Fey'lya's initiatives to modernize the military and lay down new ships. But if the senators grow complacent and see that their existing forces can push back the Pentastar Alignment and Imperial Space to their starting positions, they will block the bill and, as always, embezzle most of the funds under plausible pretenses."
Palpatine leaned forward.
"And by the time my forces are cleansed of the filth and forged into a mighty fist, they will be celebrating victory over the traitors of the Remnants," he said triumphantly. "And their fleet will consist of war-weary, battered starships…"
"Which your fleet will easily destroy," Isard confirmed. "That is my plan. To destroy the New Republic rebels with ease and precision, to subjugate the territories of the Pentastar Alignment and Imperial Space, while simultaneously burning out the plague of traitors who collaborated with the Dominion… And the entire galaxy will understand that their best option is to beg your forgiveness and surrender."
"It sounds like a plan," Palpatine said, though a note of doubt crept into his voice. "But the Mon Calamari and the Alliance will be a problem."
"Only until you break Luke Skywalker," Isard said. "Their icon, their hero of the Rebellion, who will announce to the entire galaxy that he was wrong and that the power lies with the Empire… That will convince every doubting fool, even in the most remote corner of the galaxy. And those who don't understand immediately will receive a visit from your fleet and army, forever erasing their homeworld."
"This plan will require a massive number of ground forces," the Emperor declared. "Your purges rid me of traitors, but they were experienced commanders and leaders. Not to mention the regular executions among army units… How do you propose to compensate for the millions of casualties your work has caused?"
"Cloning," Isard replied.
"Kamino is in the hands of that Dathomiri mongrel Silri," Palpatine said irritably. "Getting to it would cost thousands of ships!"
"I am aware of that, Your Imperial Majesty," the clone confirmed. "But I was not referring to the Kaminoans."
"Who, then?" the ruler of the galaxy frowned.
Isard looked at the galactic map, unerringly found the right point in the Deep Core, and jabbed her finger at it.
"The planet Khomm. Every inhabitant is a clone. And, as far as I know, their equipment was the basis for the so-called Spaarti cloning cylinders."
"Hm…" The Emperor seemed genuinely perplexed. "The Khommites… They are a formidable enemy. They merely pretend to be peaceful aliens, but when threatened, they become ruthless. Moreover, according to Sedriss, once Khomm learned of the Empire's capture of the Galactic Core, they hired an army of Ailon Nova Guards. It was decided not to touch them — the losses would be too great."
"In my humble opinion, obtaining cloning cylinders capable of mass-producing human copies on an industrial scale is a worthy prize," Ysanne offered her opinion. "And this campaign, I believe, will allow you to elevate the most competent young commanders to replace the executed admirals."
Palpatine chuckled quietly.
It seemed the Emperor was pleased with her work.
"Excellent," he declared. "I could not have devised a better plan myself. By my decree, the Lusankya is returned to you. She is fully crewed with personnel handpicked for your future — and present — work. Continue the purges in the armed forces."
"With your permission, I would like to turn my attention to the scientists involved in the superweapon projects," Isard suggested. "In my view, they have been stuck solving certain problems for too long and have missed deadlines repeatedly. Of the planned number of Star Dreadnoughts for the 'Eclipse' and 'Sovereign' projects, only the first ship of the pair has been built, and that one is still unfinished. The second Eclipse has barely left the scaffolding… And the Sovereigns…"
"Investigate this matter delicately," Palpatine's voice turned instantly cold. "Amedda decided for some reason not to inform me of these delays… Well, it's time to remind him of his place."
Isard remained silent.
"From this day forward, you report directly to me," the Emperor demanded. "I want to know the true state of my armada. Not the rosy promises of Mas Amedda, but real numbers. Anyone who tries to sabotage or delay the projects — execute them as a warning to the rest."
"It will be done, Emperor," Isard bowed.
"Now, leave," Palpatine waved his hand, as if brushing dust from the armrest of his throne. "I have more important matters to attend to."
Ysanne rose to her feet and silently left the throne room.
There was much work ahead.
The Empire required purging of every element that hindered the plan's execution.
* * *
Lumiya looked at the body of the man hanging in chains before her, covered in dried, caked blood.
"Well," she said. "You do know how to endure pain, it seems…"
Carnor Jax raised his eyes and fixed his teacher with a murderous glare…
And remained silent.
"You know how to keep your pride in check too," Lumiya noted in the tone of an experimenter observing the torments of a laboratory animal. "And to think — I believed all your previous training had been nothing but chaff for you…"
Jax stared at her with a smoldering gaze but continued to stay silent.
"Very good," Lumiya declared, casually patting her apprentice on the cheek. "Just a little more, and you'll be ready. Or you'll die — but you will learn the lesson regardless. And you'll be more careful about who you bring into my lair."
Turning her back on her prisoner, she calmly left the cell where Jax had been languishing for the past several weeks.
Disappointed that the apprentice hadn't even tried to strike her in the back, exploiting even a moment of his teacher's weakness, she climbed the stairs to a higher floor.
A short journey through the corridors, and she found herself in a spacious hall, where one individual waited patiently for her.
A tall, impressive man who preferred to conceal his appearance beneath a shapeless hooded cloak.
Tasteless, but what could be done — you don't choose your allies.
At least, not your potential ones.
And whether he would become a real ally, or take Jax's place in the torture chamber, would be decided in this long-postponed personal meeting.
Because she absolutely disliked one peculiarity about this individual: he was completely undetectable in the Force.
It was unnerving, irritating, and concerning.
But what disappointed her most was that Carnor Jax had brought him to her sanctuary without knowing a single thing about him.
He had succumbed to some blind arrogance and hadn't even used the Force to understand the intentions of the individual he had decided to drag halfway across the galaxy to her refuge.
This presented certain difficulties.
She would have to abandon this base and find a new one.
Because it was not part of her plans to show her lair to some complete stranger.
Jax had, once again, done everything wrong.
It seemed that instead of an apprentice, she was facing yet another disappointment.
"Please forgive me," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Minor problems with pests who just can't learn their place and do as they're told."
"Yes, pests are a great problem," the man agreed. "My people have some experience dealing with large pests. If you wish, we would be happy to help you…"
"Thank you for your concern," Lumiya replied coldly. "I will handle my own problems."
"Of course," the man bowed his head courteously. "Please forgive me if my offer offended you or hurt your feelings. I intended nothing of the sort…"
"I readily believe you, emissary," Lumiya said.
During her service in Imperial Intelligence, she had learned, among other things, a simple truth.
The more courteous an individual is to you, the more elaborate their phrases, the deeper the pit they intend to push you into.
"So," the Lady Sith said. "You wanted to meet me. My apprentice fulfilled your wish."
"For which I am endlessly grateful to him," the negotiator smiled. "At last, we have found someone worthy of helping us take control of the remnants of the Galactic Empire."
"Is that so," Lumiya commented indifferently. "An interesting proposition. But let's take things in order. Before we begin discussing details, I would like to know the following. When you say 'we found,' I want to know who this 'we' is."
The emissary bowed courteously.
"Yes, of course. Please forgive me — I told everything to your apprentice, but apparently he did not acquit himself well and concealed this information from you." If the moment had been appropriate, Lumiya would have burst into applause, noting the subtle art of setting teacher against student that this individual was attempting.
Sowing discord between allies…
She had encountered a rather interesting representative.
"I will deal with that misunderstanding myself," Lumiya explained. "Get to the details."
"Yes, of course, how could it be otherwise?" the emissary smiled. "When I say 'we,' I mean the race to which I belong. We are peaceful travelers who, by fate's decree, were exiled from our home. Now we live in the darkness between the stars and want only one thing."
"And what is that?" Lumiya asked.
"That those who destroyed the Galactic Empire — that paragon of order and stability — burn in the righteous fire of purification, along with all other enemies of the Empire," the negotiator's voice carried expressive notes, but Lumiya easily detected the skillful falseness.
After all, she had used this very technique many times to mislead an enemy with a sob story.
"Commendable," she assessed. "That is truly a worthy goal. But why did you decide that this would interest me?"
"The ruler of my people concluded that among all those living in the galaxy, only you are worthy of his attention and support." It even sounded overly modest.
Implausibly so.
"Flattering," she lied, completely devoid of emotion and with practiced ease. "Very well, let's sort this out. First, I would like to know your name. And the name of your race of peaceful travelers."
If the negotiator caught the sarcasm in her words — and it was hard to miss — he pretended everything was as it should be.
"Please forgive my rudeness," he scraped and bowed with cloying courtesy yet again. "How could I have overlooked such a thing? My name is Nom Anor, and I represent the completely peaceful race of the Yuuzhan Vong, who can help you become the first Empress in the millennia of galactic history…"