Every residence of an Imperial governor, moff, or simply influential aristocrat hides many secrets.
Including an underground passage, necessary for a getaway if things got too "hot."
"The target is escaping!"
The call transmitted directly into Captain Inek's ear from the comlink built into his helmet.
Heavy stomping pounded on the floor above the agent's head, accompanied by the easily recognizable "brap, brap" of a blaster.
Torin swore quietly.
They had hoped to capture the target for interrogation, not kill him during the operation.
The agent slowed his pace, descending further down the spiral staircase carved into the rock mass, straining to see anything in the darkness of the smell-filled underground.
Behind him was a breach in the wall, a maze of corridors, and a short hallway with a locked door that had clearly never been opened before.
That was apparently where the criminals were heading.
But there was nowhere to hide in the corridors, so Torin moved toward the enemy, hoping to at least have a chance at reliable cover in case of a firefight in the underground.
Now that the situation had devolved into a fierce shootout, he regretted not going up to participate in the Shadow Guard's assault.
But he had made a decision — to split up and set up an ambush.
This tactic had been drilled into him at the Academy by an old instructor — a clone commando he still remembered with respect.
In the current circumstances, he hated to think that such a tactic might be wrong.
Not only did the enemy have additional forces — not just a couple of companies of local thugs, as assumed — but they also threw them into battle against Dominion agents without hesitation.
The men, though outnumbered, surpassed the enemy in the quality of their assault and operational execution.
They had destroyed around two hundred enemy fighters — and that wasn't counting the throne room, where the Shadow Guard were working.
In half an hour of the assault, the Dominion had lost only a couple of Molo Himron's clones — and even then, only because the enemy used heavy weapons.
But it was precisely the enemy's use of grenade launchers that revealed the existence of new tunnels to the agents.
Otherwise, the operatives continued to press the enemy on all fronts.
Fifty agents, operating at maximum efficiency.
No, he believed and hoped the tactic would work.
"If it fails, it will only be because I applied it incorrectly," the man decided, continuing to push through the underground.
Which turned out to be more branched than he had assumed.
That was why he moved into the part that, judging by the rock and construction equipment, had been excavated very recently.
Some agents were guarding the "official" part of the underground, in case the criminals decided to use it after all.
But Torin, as soon as he saw the fresh catacombs, made a different decision — to move through the new tunnels.
It was likely that the criminals were modifying this part of the palace for themselves.
Perhaps they realized that since the governor's residence was built, many Imperial secrets had ceased to be secrets.
And they left the "official" underground as a distraction, using the new tunnels for their escape.
Tunnels whose exits Torin and the other agents didn't know.
But the presence of three entry points into them within the residence indicated he was thinking in the right direction.
"Lieutenant Mac's" boots softly touched the steps of an ascending staircase.
The higher he climbed, the more ominous the silence became.
He occasionally thought about contacting the agents guarding the "official secret passage," but didn't want to compromise the advantages that silence could give him.
The underground was cunningly planned — in places it came close to the "official secret tunnels" and the residence's rooms, allowing one to listen to what was happening in that part of the building.
A perfect way to secretly observe events.
And with enough desire, one could always blow up the right wall of a room and escape into the new tunnels.
It became obvious that the enemy intended to settle here comfortably and for the long term.
Residences were already designed to provide shelters and firing positions for defenders.
But here, the enemy had decided to further fortify and strengthen the structures and rooms.
They were clearly preparing to turn this place into a fortified command post.
He was halfway to the top of the staircase when he was attacked.
As soon as he passed a niche crudely hewn into the rock mass on which the residence stood, a hand with a blaster emerged from a doorway at the top of the stairs.
Torin felt a hit on his armor, but the pain didn't come — even a second later, when he pressed himself into the niche.
He shouldn't take such risks again — judging by the weapon's power, these guys had heavy blasters.
The armor might not save him a second time.
"Boss! Boss! Imps are here!" the blaster's owner yelled, continuing to fire blindly, trying to keep Torin pinned down. "I saw one!"
"Then kill him, you idiots!" another voice roared.
The agent was being suppressed by fire so that...
Just as part of a criminal's bulk appeared in front of the niche (well, who else would care about an armed man in tunnels unknown to most sentients?), Torin didn't wait to be shot.
Pushing off the skarn with his feet, he leaped forward, flew across the half-meter width of the staircase, and slammed into the criminal who had come to finish him off.
Inek managed to punch him in the jaw, finally knocking the bandit unconscious.
The night vision mode in his helmet gave him a clear picture that this wasn't the one he needed.
Which meant there was no point in keeping this bandit alive.
As the bandit's body hit the steps with a crunch and slid downward, Torin broke the enemy fighter's neck with a precise strike on the stair edge and let him slide freely to the bottom of the spiral ride.
Yes, the enemy was already on the staircase.
And they really wanted to get down.
They were heading for that door in the new part of the underground that no one had ever opened before.
Beyond that armored door was their salvation.
But standing in their way was Torin Inek.
A Dominion agent.
And despite the disadvantage of his position, he wouldn't budge.
A pair of custom-made blasters easily switched to rapid-fire mode, replacing a light blaster rifle.
But that would be enough for his enemies.
Torin Inek slowly began to climb up the stairs.
And at the same time, he started killing.
* * *
Darth Maul followed the trail.
Like a predator stalking wounded prey.
Using the Force, he pushed his cybernetic body to its maximum running speed.
Though it looked more like giant leaps — each of his "steps" carried him several meters forward.
The Zabrak charged through the darkness.
But he saw everything in it as clearly as if the local sun were shining above him.
The Dark Side of the Force allowed its adepts much.
And the deeper you know it, the more secrets it reveals to you, allowing you to serve it with even greater efficiency.
In a matter of minutes, Darth Maul raced through the secret passage, cleared several floors, flying over staircases like a hurricane, searching one underground hideout after another.
Cells, apartments, something resembling a ransacked bank vault, a torture chamber with several fresh bodies...
But not a trace of the escaped criminals.
He sensed life nearby, literally around the next corners of the wide tunnel, but every time he turned there, he found no one.
The sounds of gunfights and explosions in places he couldn't reach only inflamed him, plunging him deeper into rage.
The prey was playing with him.
The target was more cunning than he had assumed.
Finally, ahead, he sensed sparks of life.
Fewer enemies than expected.
And they were all somehow dim...
With an enraged roar, Maul burst around the last corner of the tunnel, feeling the end of the underground path ahead.
And he skidded to a halt, the metal of his prosthetic legs scraping against the rough stone, as he saw blasters aimed at him.
Held by figures in black armor.
A very familiar black armor.
"Can we help you, Shadow Guard?" asked one of the agents, at whose signal the others stopped aiming at the Zabrak.
"Where are they?" the Zabrak snarled.
"No one was here, sir."
The clone was still saying something, but Maul didn't hear him.
Drums pounded in his temples, calling for murder.
The Dark Side burned him from within, demanding bloodshed.
But even if he killed these agents, he wouldn't enjoy their suffering and death.
And worst of all, they weren't even lying.
Maul could see it in their thoughts.
The clones were carrying out their assigned task — sitting in ambush.
If they had captured the target and decided to deceive him, he would have known.
But they were honest.
There really was no one here on whom he could vent his rage and savor the ritual of dealing death.
Killing clones was just routine, anyway.
No vivid emotions from sensing death, no terror of the end...
"Meat droids" weren't afraid of anything.
They knew perfectly well that they would die.
And they didn't care when or where.
Maul spat on the floor in disgust and turned his back to the clones.
He immediately accelerated, heading back.
There was only one tunnel.
There couldn't be anything here that would lead elsewhere, because when he was running, he had sensed them, been ready to catch them, overtake them, tear them apart...
But they weren't ahead of him or behind him.
They were...
Maul stopped, his metal legs gouging a small trench in the stone floor.
He slowly turned his head toward the impenetrable wall.
Beyond which, in the distance, he sensed the panic of the retreating enemy.
"Attention!" It was the voice of one of the agents. "Enemy located in a new tunnel network. Running parallel to the known ones..."
So that's what the clone at the exit was trying to tell him...
There were more tunnels.
Now everything fell into place.
Maul touched the rough stone of the wall, behind which, at a considerable distance, he sensed a battle beginning.
He looked at his double-bladed lightsaber.
He hung the weapon on his belt and concentrated the Force in his hands.
Releasing it in a telekinetic burst, he smashed through the wall and the one behind it.
Stepping into the new tunnel, he noisily inhaled the air.
The smell of fear, battle, and death...
It also came from the second tunnel he had broken into.
Maul moved there, got his bearings, and rushed toward the target.
Time to kill.
* * *
Inek pressed his back against the wall, limiting the enemy's angle of fire.
Reloading took seconds, but during that time, one of the mercenaries had managed to get even lower.
And now nothing prevented him from killing the agent.
Except one fact.
Torin never reloaded both blasters at once.
So he punched another hole in the Nautolan's face.
And immediately lunged into his position, leaping over the body sliding down the wall, and fired at two other mercenaries.
Both Rodians squealed no worse than Gamorreans, but Inek didn't care about the circumstances of the dead's final breaths.
He was reclaiming one landing after another, moving back up the stairs so as not to lose the criminals.
And the operation's target — the assistant of Mi-Ha Hutt.
This Weequay was necessary to untangle the web of conspiracy and crime reigning in the Allied Tion.
Torin had to take cover again when one of the enemies opened fire with a high-powered blaster carbine.
Such shots burned through a small layer of skarn, let alone armor.
Torin managed to shoot the enemy just before he heard a bestial roar from the top of the spiral staircase.
The remaining six criminals froze for a moment, trying to understand what was happening.
This allowed the Dominion agent to kill two more.
And the very second their bodies began to tumble down the stairs, concentrated red flame appeared at the top, contained within an energy blade.
Clad entirely in black, the Shadow Guard fell upon the enemies, killing them with the meticulousness of a sadist exterminating parasites or a discovered nest of rodents.
The double-bladed lightsaber tore bodies apart, severing arms and legs that rained down on the agent in a gruesome shower.
It slashed torsos and sliced legs, as if trying to achieve a decorative carve-up, like in the best restaurants of the galaxy.
Torin clearly realized that for the first time in his life, a chill ran down his spine from sheer terror.
Terror of something clad in the quite familiar form of a humanoid Zabrak, who was clearly enjoying the killings.
Several criminals rushed down the stairs, hoping to escape the terrible fate of their comrades.
Inek realized he would gladly join them, but his legs felt like lead.
With one leap, the monster in humanoid form jumped from the site of the last execution.
And landed directly in the path of the fleeing criminals.
Leaving Torin behind its back.
With one filigree stroke of its blade, the Shadow Guard finished off the remaining criminals.
Except for one.
He cowardly threw his weapon down the stairs, babbling something in Basic about surrendering.
The Shadow Guard approached him closely.
The Nautolan fell to his knees, clasping his hands in a gesture of prayer, looking up at the executioner.
"Mercy... mercy..."
The plea gnawed into Torin's mind like drills boring through dense material.
With a hiss, the light blades retracted into the long hilt, which the Shadow Guard hung back on his belt.
Then he placed his hand on the head of the surrendered alien, who was trembling with fear.
"Mercy?" the Zabrak's voice was cold and hateful. "What mercy is there for those who are cowardly, weak, and useless?"
"Stop, he..." Torin barely had time to shout.
Grabbing the Nautolan by his head-tail, the Shadow Guard, with inhuman strength, smashed the criminal's skull against the stone wall.
The head burst like an overripe fruit, spraying biological fluids in all directions.
Blood and cranial contents splattered across Torin's face.
"By the Emperor's black bones!" the agent roared. "What are you doing‽ One of them was the gang leader!"
The Shadow Guard slowly turned to face the agent.
Torin felt a retching urge as he watched the Zabrak examine the remains of the criminal's head in his palm with interest.
Then he squeezed his fingers hard.
Making blood and brains spurt out in small fountains.
"Know your place, agent," the Zabrak said dully. "There was no leader here. None of them was the Weequay you're looking for."
Inek's gaze swept over the bodies of the dead...
"Bantha poodoo!" he cursed. "Where is that bastard?"
"The upper level has several corridors," said the Zabrak. "I think he sent his fighters on a false trail to escape pursuit himself through the residence."
That sounded reasonable.
"Then why the hell did you chop these into salad?" Torin asked, pointing at the finely diced bodies of the criminals.
"Because it's fun," the Zabrak shrugged with a completely indifferent face.
And slowly walked up the steps.
* * *
Vex followed the trail of the task force, stepping lightly, casually, even filigree-like over the enemy corpses that littered the residence's corridors.
It wasn't that she was too disappointed that the enemy didn't have a single survivor.
On the contrary — it was a sign of the Assault Commandos' excellent work.
Yes, yes, yes, Orra Sing had already explained to her (with a haughty chuckle) that these were actually field agents of the Dominion Intelligence Directorate, using Assault Commando armor as a cover.
So that, by all canons, random witnesses would claim that the Empire was the one doing the extermination of criminals.
Though, of course, the mystery was why they couldn't have just sent the actual Assault Commandos here...
There must be some reason for it.
Which, as usual, she hadn't been told.
Passing through yet another corridor, the girl caught a movement out of the corner of her eye in a room she hadn't even thought to check.
Taking a step back and aiming her blaster at the doorway, she crossed the threshold with the firm intention of figuring out what was going on.
A strong blow to her forearms knocked the blaster from her hands.
The girl, grabbed by her chest plate, was forcibly dragged inside and slammed against the wall so hard that pain spread through her body from her lekku being crushed between her back and the armor.
A face of a Weequay twisted with rage stared into hers.
And behind him, she could see a hole in the wall.
Which, according to the residence's floor plan, shouldn't be there.
A native of the planet Sriluur in the Outer Rim hissed something in his own language, pressing his left forearm against her throat.
At the same time, he reached his free right hand behind his back with the unmistakable intention of pulling out a backup weapon.
Vex didn't hesitate.
She slipped her right hand between herself and the enemy to grab him by the back of the head.
Turning her body to the left, the girl hooked her right leg behind the enemy's legs and put all the body mass she could into her torso, leaning it forward.
The Weequay flew to the floor with a squeal and curses, simultaneously throwing his right hand with a vibroblade.
Aimed at her stomach.
Vex caught the weapon between her palms, twisted her wrist to disarm the enemy and put his arm in a joint lock, flipping him face down.
The vibroblade fell from his hand, its metal hilt clattering across the floor.
"I've been training this tummy for someone special, not for you to defile it with your piece of junk!" she yelled at the Weequay.
The enemy struggled desperately to break free of the hold.
And this stubbornness confirmed the suspect's identity for Vex.
Managing to press the activation key on the comlink built into her armored forearm, she said:
"Leader captured! Third floor, room with a hole in the wa..."
The scoundrel took advantage of her distraction and knocked the girl to the floor with a kick.
With a crash, the Twi'lek fell onto her back, crushing her lekku again, making spots dance before her eyes.
"I'll kill you!"
The enemy lunged at her.
Vex tried to pull her legs up to kick him in the chest and throw him off, but realized this maneuver might have worked anytime except in the current circumstances.
The armor — reliable and massive — prevented her from doing it with filigree agility, and the enemy landed on her bent shins.
He had already picked up his knife and tried to stab her in the face from the side, but Vex blocked the blade with her left forearm.
With shocking ease and searing pain, the weapon sank into her arm so deep that the girl saw the tip of the blade.
Sticking out from the inner surface of the left forearm of the beauty from Ryloth.
Her arm began to treacherously weaken, and the enemy pressed down on her even more, twisting the weapon in her hand.
Causing unbearable pain and jeopardizing her struggle against him.
Vex realized she was weakening, and the inevitable would follow — the blade would hit her chest plate, pierce it, and...
The Twi'lek looked once more at the vibroblade tip protruding from her forearm.
A couple of centimeters, no more.
She looked into the enemy's eyes and smirked defiantly.
"I know someone who'll beat the crap out of you for damaging my chest," she said in a mysterious tone."
And boldly stuck out her tongue.
Stopping her struggle with her left hand.
And tilting her head forward, presenting her forehead.
The enemy, pressing down on her with his weight, leaned forward, taking sadistic pleasure in imagining the blade entering her body and openly savoring her cry of pain…
Then his face met her forehead.
The enemy recoiled reflexively, grabbing his broken nose with both hands, ceasing to pin her legs down with his weight.
Vex felt something warm and hot spreading through her body under her armor and suit (well, what could that be, huh?), freed her right leg, and introduced the heel of her boot to the Weequay's face with all her heart.
Now he was thrown back properly.
He flew several meters back, allowing Vex to get up using only one good hand.
She held her left hand where the blade had entered her body, feeling herself getting worse.
Even breathing hurt.
Like there wasn't enough air.
The girl kicked the enemy in the face with all her heart, making him whine like a beaten watchdog who hadn't expected such treatment from a caring owner.
Wincing in pain and not removing the blade from the wound, she bent over, overcoming the pain, and grabbed her blaster, aiming it at the enemy.
He stopped rolling on the floor, froze on his stomach, spreading his arms to get up.
"Move, and I'll make another hole in your ass," the Twi'lek promised.
The enemy didn't believe her.
But she didn't keep her word either, firing the blaster.
Not with a lethal charge, but with the whitish rings of a stunner.
"I'll do it later," Vex promised, looking at her forearm.
"Wonderful!" she commented on the fact that the vibroblade had sliced through her comlink on her forearm.
And she didn't want to look for a spare, leaving the weapon unable to react quickly.
At least — not yet.
Because she caught movement in the hole out of the corner of her eye.
And fired there.
But with live ammunition this time, fortunately nothing was preventing her right thumb from flipping the fire selector to the right position.
The crimson blade of a lightsaber, igniting a split second before, deflected the shot into the ceiling.
"Have you completely lost your mind?" asked Reynar, fully appearing from the break in the wall.
"I've lost it?" Vex protested, planting her good hand on her hip. "I captured the ringleader here while you were crawling through some dark and sketchy holes! Shame on you, Reynar! I thought better of you! I hope you didn't bring any contagion back to the family?"
Obscuro, who was taking off his helmet at that moment, couldn't hold it in his fingers.
The "bucket" clattered to the floor.
"I was tearing through those dungeons like Darth Vader himself was chasing me on spice when I heard your signal!" he declared.
"Oh, I know all about you men's excuses," Vex said with a feigned grimace, nodding her head toward the prisoner. "It's definitely him, right?"
Reynar used the Force to lift the unconscious Weequay into the air, looked at his face…
"Aside from the busted mug and broken nose bones — yes, it's the local gang leader," he concluded.
Then he looked at Vex.
And let the criminal slump to the floor like a sack.
"You're wounded," he stated, approaching the girl and sizing up the vibroblade to pull it out of her forearm.
"Well, aren't you observant!" Vex sneered. "Don't touch it! The tip of the knife is sticking out of my chest. You pull it out, and I'll flood everything with blood."
"You sure do love flooding things…" Obscuro muttered, glaring at the prisoner. "Did he do this?"
"Technically — it's his fault," Vex nodded. "But it entered somewhere above the chest, I chose the safest… Way."
"Since when are you interested in safety at all?" the former Inquisitor wondered.
"Are we definitely talking about the knife sticking out of my chest right now?" asked Vex.
"Of course," Reynar agreed.
"I could actually die, you know," the girl reminded him. "You know, standing here, leaking all over…"
"…"
"I'm bleeding out, you idiot!" the girl exploded. "Can you maybe do something about it already?"
"Doesn't even a chest wound stop you from making double-entendre jokes?" Obscuro clarified, activating his comlink and calling for a medic.
"The strongest couples are the ones where one is completely cracked in the head, and the other is a gloomy, brooding slow-thinker," Vex shared her observation, wincing as her beloved jabbed her with a pneumo-syringe from his medkit.
"Bacta," he explained. "It'll slow the blood loss. But it's better not to pull the knife out yet until I get your armor off."
"Reynar Obscuro, you are a depraved man!" the Twi'lek said with feigned disgust. "Here I am, standing, dying, bleeding out, and he, of course, is only thinking about getting me undressed? Do you even have a conscience?"
The Shadow Guard sighed resignedly.
He understood perfectly well that this torrent of words wasn't just a whim of the girl's.
Just a protective psychological reaction.
"Let me help," he said, approaching the girl and relieving her of her cloak, unfastening the chest piece's clasps. "I'll take the armor off now and see what's going on with your chest…"
"Ahem-ahem," came a businesslike cough from the doorway. "Do you have any shame, huh? This is a combat mission, you know!"
"Get lost, Sing!" the human and the Twi'lek said in unison. "It's not what you think at all!"
"Of course," Orra said in a venomously caustic tone, deliberately slow as she stepped back from the room. "Of course…"
She turned her head toward the corridor, and a mocking smile appeared on her face.
"Hey, Maul! Come here! Obscuro is groping his girl! Right next to the body of the ringleader we were hunting!"
Reynar swore.
Both because the blood from Vex's wound started flowing faster.
And because the Zabrak appeared in the room.
Though, the latter didn't react at all to Obscuro treating his partner's wound.
He just walked over to the unconscious body, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and headed for the exit.
Half a meter from the threshold, he stopped.
Without turning around, Darth Maul said:
"Strina was evacuated to the Marut. The Imperials saved his life."
"Oland and the others kept their promise," Reynar said with relief, packing the wound after dousing it with hemostatic gel. "I'm glad he's all right."
"It was the ringleader who cut your woman?" the Zabrak asked, still standing with his back to them.
"Technically — he's responsible for it," Vex said quickly.
"I see," Maul replied.
He sprang off his legs, taking a step forward.
And that action coincided with the Weequay's upper body "bouncing" on his shoulder, the back of his head smacking into the doorframe.
"Well, Maul's a gentleman," Vex said. "Avenge a woman's grievance. I never thought he was that kind…"
Reynar shook his head, finishing the disinfection.
He could have said the Zabrak was simply enjoying inflicting a bit more pain on the enemy.
But he kept quiet, occupied with other, more important things.
The cut wasn't deep, it hadn't damaged all that much, so this would be enough.
"There'll be a scar," he said, looking into Vex's eyes.
"Big?"
"About a centimeter and a half by a couple of millimeters," he gave the size of the wound.
"Don't even think I'll wear a closed swimsuit," the girl warned in a loud whisper. "And since you're guilty of some criminal messing up my beautiful body, you'll have to make it up to me!"
"Even I'm stunned by that level of nerve," Sing admitted from the corridor. "Way to go, girl! Just like that, drive that brute right under your thumb!"
"I'll make it up to you," Reynar promised, looking Vex in the eye. "Consider it made up."
"How so?" she fluttered her eyelashes.
"By not strangling you," Obscuro explained, giving the girl a light shove toward the door. "You weren't supposed to be in the residence at all, you brazen pest!"
Vex was blown out of sight faster than Orra Sing could come up with a new barb.
* * *
"I don't like this at all," Booster grumbled crankily, examining the lights of the Imperial fleet's engines through the transparisteel.
"You never like anything," Mirax parried, clearing the simple food from the navigator's seat.
It had been turned into an improvised snack table for her grumpy father, who was on watch.
True, it was implied that Corran would also find time and join the family meal.
But the miracle didn't happen.
Just as it hadn't happened for weeks before.
Horn was distancing himself from them more and more, spending more time in his cabin, studying…
Something.
Sometimes there was the hum of a lightsaber, sometimes the sound of falling objects or something else unlike ordinary pastime.
"After one red-eyed blue-face took my Star Destroyer?" Booster snapped. "No, I don't like anything after that. And don't you dare mock me!"
"Maybe I should remind you that you yourself took the Errant Venture from the Imperials, huh?" Mirax inquired.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Booster grumbled, glancing at the gigantic warship hovering over Kessel. "Hasn't CorSec crawled out of his hole?"
"No," answered Mirax. "You know he's busy…"
"…studying his Jedi heritage," Booster grimaced, repeating what he'd heard many times. "We need to get the hell out of here, not study textbooks sitting on the pot."
"Don't start…"
Booster looked at his daughter, then shifted his gaze toward the corridor leading to the shuttle's cockpit, where they were sitting.
"Something's wrong," he said.
"Everything's fine," Mirax said quickly.
"Like a Hutt it's fine!" Booster hissed in her face. "To hell with Horn not looking like himself. Jedi are all a bit touched, especially when it's the CorSec family…"
"Don't you dare start this conversation again!" Mirax flared up. "He went through a lot to save us and…"
"Did he tell you that?" the elder Terrik addressed his daughter in a lowered voice, looking straight into her eyes.
"Yes," the young woman looked away. "We talked a lot when we had to lay low…"
"How convenient that you started this conversation," a gloating grin appeared on Terrik's face. "So maybe your dear husband will tell you how exactly he got such an advanced little ship, huh?"
Mirax looked at her father with the same expression he had given her.
Inquisitive, unfriendly, boding no good.
"You can't go without a scandal, can you?" she asked.
"I can."
"So why do you start again…?"
"Because it's a laughingstock to the Jedi!" Booster exploded. "Do you know how many TZ-15s are in free circulation in the galaxy? In fully working condition, with all spare parts, with a working stygium-based masking system? With equipment to conceal ion engine emissions? Do you know who owned this toy before, huh?"
"Alright, that's enough," Mirax demonstratively rose from the copilot's seat. "I'm not going to be your lightning rod! Corran said the shuttle was given to him by friends, and I trust my husband…"
"I turned half the galaxy upside down just to find even a beat-up ship like that!" Booster dropped to a bass register. "They cost fifty million each! I got the Errant Venture cheaper! The Empire spent ages trying to get even one of these after they smashed the Zann Consortium. And they didn't get very many, you know! And the black markets were stripped clean in about six months after Tyber Zann was killed! Do you even know what the Zanns used these ships for?"
TZ-15 Shuttle.
"No," answered Mirax, turning to face her father. "And I don't want to know! Corran said his friends helped him and…"
"Friends like that — you grab by the Hutt's tail and put in a museum!" Booster thundered. "I respected CorSec and his father for the principles they had! And he could only get a ship like that from the remnants of the Zann Consortium! The most vile, the most bastardly bastards in the galaxy! The ones even the Hutts wouldn't deal with, considering them complete scum without any concept of honor or conscience!"
"Big words," came a calm voice from the corridor.
Booster wrinkled his nose discontentedly.
"Smells like CorSec."
"Corran, I…" Mirax rushed to her husband, but he stopped her and threw a glance at the Executor hovering over Kessel.
His cold gaze scanned the ships circling near the giant, as if he was trying to spot something…
"Trying to hypnotize them?" Booster inquired.
"No," answered Corran, looking at his father-in-law. "Vacate the pilot's seat, Booster."
"Like a Hutt's ass I will," Terrik stubbornly refused. "I'm comfortable right here."
"Dad!"
"I don't have time for games," Corran stated coldly, showing even more of the dramatic change that had occurred in him during the time his family members were kidnapped. "We have trouble."
"Yes," nodded the elder Terrik. "We're in the middle of Imperial territory on a ship with a cracked CorSec who has a lightsaber and rotten connections…"
Horn stared intently at his father-in-law.
Which made the unyielding Booster Terrik flinch.
"I did what I did to save you," he declared. "And I would have done more if it was required. You should be grateful that I have such acquaintances who helped free you."
"Some help," Booster weakly snapped back. "Sitting here like decoy targets, waiting to be found…"
"We're not waiting for anything," Corran declared, pointing at one of the dots rapidly approaching them. "We've been found. And I'd better be at the controls than you, dear father-in-law."
"And why's that?" the smuggler took offense. "Sure, they fly around here often, so what?"
"Because they've sent more than just pilots after us," Horn stated categorically.
"Who, then?" asked Mirax.
"A Jedi," answered Horn, dropping into the seat his father-in-law had vacated. "Buckle up. And take control of the guns. We've got a serious fight ahead."
* * *
What Thrawn did can be interpreted in two ways.
As always, actually.
But it's certainly not revenge.
On one hand, Mara dreamed of having her own ship, built especially for her and meeting her requirements.
Firepower, defense, hyperdrive, speed…
On the other hand, the fact that it would be a Z-95 "Headhunter," the girl hadn't even expected.
Yes, the Onyx Star, as this machine was nicknamed, was the best of the serial production models, but…
Seriously?
They were building these even before the Clone Wars!
Z-95 AF-4 "Headhunter" "Onyx Star."
The fighter's design remained unchanged and fully replicated the layout of the I3 and AF-3 modifications.
The main differences were hidden inside.
The AF-4, unlike previous series, had a decent built-in hyperdrive.
This component was sometimes removed to reduce the fighter's cost.
Which was a decent solution for less wealthy clients.
The new model's weapon composition changed.
Most previous modifications were armed with blaster cannons, but the AF-4 was fitted with laser weapons.
Sensors were placed in the fighter's nose section.
The fighter's weapon control system was installed right in front of the cockpit.
The machine's deflectors were installed by the designers in a dome-shaped fairing in the aft section.
A Hutt's sake, this machine even smelled of clone pilots!
But, this was the ship they foisted on her on the landing pad of the Guardian when a message came from Thrawn that her mission had to begin immediately.
Well, at least they delivered her to the location; she didn't have to test if the hyperdrive was as good as the advertising brochures said.
"OCC Guardian to Hand — you may begin," the dispatcher's voice sounded in her helmet.
"Yeah, right, I'll get right on that," Mara snapped.
No, this was definitely a little revenge from Thrawn.
For what she'd put him through at their last meeting.
Or maybe it wasn't revenge…
Maybe they picked the ship based on her preferences in piloting starships and the mission's objectives.
After all, Mara could handle a "Headhunter" with her eyes closed and one hand.
But still, it was a bit strange that Thrawn had sent her to find another Jedi in the middle of…
Bah, is that Kessel?
How could there be a Jedi here, if the system has been under control for ages…
Jade licked her dry lips, gripped the control stick tighter, and increased the machine's speed.
Yeah right.
There couldn't be a Jedi here.
But there might be (and most likely was) one insolent Corellian bastard she'd already crossed paths with.
"Hand," the Grand Admiral himself addressed her on a private channel. "Have you found our uninvited guest?"
"Working on it," the girl grunted.
She closed her eyes, concentrating on the flow of the Force.
There was the Guardian, represented by a sea of life-lights.
The escort ships…
The patrols flying in pairs and changing their flight vectors, which made it easier for her to understand who was who…
Plus that mental similarity of the clones…
Unexpectedly, even to herself, she found what she was looking for.
"He's at point three-seven-seven," she spoke into her comlink. "A small starship; Horn and two other sentients on board."
He'd gotten quite far.
Practically at the edge of the gravity trawl blocking escape from the system.
Sly.
One lapse in vigilance, shutting down the generators on the Interdictor, and that's it.
Say goodbye to Corran Horn.
They'd only ever see his hidden ion trail.
"I had no doubt in your ability to locate the target and complete the mission," Thrawn replied.
"Yeah, and who was standing there like a pole when a girl jumped out of a jumpsuit in front of him?" Mara thought vengefully. "He had no doubt…"
The girl checked her ammunition.
All eight missiles in place.
Gun buffers charged and ready to fire.
"Ready to fire to kill," she warned.
"Unnecessary," Thrawn replied. "Just deprive him of his masking."
"Um… I don't follow."
Mara thought with annoyance that she should have used her alter-ego of a dummy less in the past.
Maybe then she'd think straight…
But that wasn't certain.
"I can destroy Horn and his passengers," she repeated. "They might escape one or two missiles, but if I launch all of them…"
"I need Horn and his ship relatively intact," the Grand Admiral explained. "Simply damaging the masking is sufficient. The pilots of the Avenger squadron will handle the rest."
Ah, right… the dozen TIE Avengers on her tail weren't just flying around for decoration, it turned out.
"Well… As you wish," Mara said.
The girl reached out to the Force again, feeling the malice emanating from Horn and his desire to fight to the last.
It wouldn't be easy for her if he met the Onyx Star with fire from his guns.
His ship, whatever it was, clearly had something to spice up a firefight with several small Dominion ships.
The girl chewed her lip, realizing that neither she nor Horn knew how to mask themselves in the Force.
And therefore they both definitely understood that they would find each other even under masking.
So, the Corellian was waiting for her…
And he, unlike her, could see the Onyx Star in the frame of his sights, while she would have to fire at an area of space…
After all, that infamous "point" was a section of space with v-e-e-ery large boundaries…
She had to surprise the enemy somehow.
To strike from where he didn't expect.
Mara thoughtfully looked straight ahead, turned her head…
And then she engaged the hyperdrive.
* * *
Captain Pellaeon thought his eyesight had failed him.
Because the "Headhunter" had just vanished from the bridge's tactical monitor.
"Sir, Hand has broken the light barrier."
"Thank you, Captain," said Grand Admiral Thrawn. "I noticed it already. Exquisite, isn't it?"
"Forgive me, sir?" the commander of the Guardian looked questioningly at the Supreme Commander.
"Hand solved the problem of a surprise attack on Horn," Thrawn explained, stroking the ysalamiri.
"Yes, she made a hyperjump toward him…"
"Not toward him," Thrawn clarified. "Behind him."
At that very moment, the vanished marker of the Onyx Star reappeared next to the presumed location of Horn's ship.
The onboard computer registered fire from laser cannons into empty space…
In which, a moment later, the marker of the enemy starship appeared, where there hadn't been one before.
"She used the Interdictor's gravity trawl and Horn's position near the edge of the artificial gravity to emerge into realspace from a vector where Horn didn't expect an attack," Pellaeon said with a hint of admiration.
He watched as a dozen Avengers repeated the maneuver, hosing the Corellian's ship with fire from their cannons, forcing it to move toward the Guardian and the entire Dominion fleet.
"A Zann Consortium shuttle," Captain Pellaeon identified the fleeing Jedi's starship type.
"TZ-15," Thrawn clarified. "Intended for transporting particularly important members of the organization. Hence the masking unit."
"So, the former CorSec operative made a deal with Tyber Zann?" the commander of the Guardian suggested.
"No," answered Thrawn, smiling and rising from the command chair. "It's much more interesting, Captain. Use ion cannons and a boarding droid team for the capture. But I need the ship intact and fit for further use."
"It will be done, Grand Admiral."
"Inform me when the ship is delivered to the flight deck," said Thrawn. "I will be in my quarters."
"Yes, sir."