It was rather… unusual to watch people… sentients who had nothing to do with the Empire and its command simultaneously, come aboard his ship.
Captain Oland watched as such a motley crew descended from a standard-issue "Lambda" shuttle onto the flight deck.
Sentients clad in black armor and cloaks, drenched in blood and gore from head to toe.
A human.
A Zabrak.
A Twi'lek.
And the bounty hunter Orra Sing, wanted in hundreds of systems.
All as one — in identical armor, hinting at their belonging to a specific group.
United and bound by common goals and intentions.
Even more surprising were the several dozen assault commandos in their characteristic black armor, similar to the armor of the Empire's scout troopers.
Never before had Oland (and judging by the gaping mouths — nor had his crew members) seen such a large number of commandos in one place.
It was believed that there weren't very many of them left in principle — the Galactic Civil War had spared no one.
But the Dominion seemed to have found a way to restore the numbers of the Stormtrooper Corps' elite troops.
However, the greatest surprise was one sentient among them, who took off his scout helmet and revealed his face.
"Lieutenant Mac?"
It's time to stop being surprised by what's happening.
"Captain," the formal head of the Tion Union said with a nod of greeting. "Is there a quiet place where we can speak privately?"
"O-of course there is," Oland said flustered, gesturing toward the briefing room for the duty squadron. "Follow me, of course..."
"Not so fast," said the only lightsaber wielder Oland had ever had the chance to actually talk to. "First I want to make sure my companion is safe."
"Same as everyone else we managed to save," Oland said darkly, nodding toward another passageway. "The medbay is at your disposal. He's on a drip — we don't have as much Bacta as we'd like..."
"I'm not talking about that companion," the man stated. "I don't doubt your words, Captain. The problem is something else. Our people are injured and they need treatment, wound care... We'll need the medbay for a long time."
Oland looked distractedly at the visitors.
If you looked closely, you could see that some of them were limping, others had scorched armor...
"I'll make arrangements," he said. "But... there's a tricky point, sir... We have a supply problem..."
Lieutenant Mac didn't even react to the jab at him.
Well, Hutt take him.
"We have a stock of medical supplies," the man stated, gesturing toward the shuttle.
A pair of healthy-looking assault commandos were already hauling several bags and the unconscious body of a Weequay toward the exit from the flight deck.
"Is that who I think it is?" Oland said harshly.
"Yes," Lieutenant Mac confirmed.
"I won't allow you to treat that creature, even for a tanker of Bacta," the commander of the Marut said.
"No one's planning to treat him," the Zabrak with the red-and-black face paint cut in.
The dried bits of humanoid entrails gave him a sinister, outright maniacal appearance.
"Then... why do you need him in the medbay?" Oland clarified.
"Torture," the Twi'lek said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Besides, he slashed me, so don't worry — he's not long for this world."
"In that case, I'll offer you more than just the medbay," the commander of the Marut smiled. "We have a spot in the reactor's active zone with a beautiful view of organic matter disintegrating in the corona of an artificial star."
"I like this guy!" Aurra Sing said languidly, winking at Oland. "I think you and I will get along, Captain."
"I'd rather die and go meet Thrawn than rub shoulders with a hired killer," the commander of the Marut decided silently.
* * *
The DX-9 Delta-class landing-assault shuttle was slowly turning above the landing deck of the Guardian.
Captain Pellaeon watched as the starship was only just beginning to descend onto its landing struts, while stormtroopers had already formed up in a square around the ship, weapons raised.
DX-9 Delta-class landing-assault shuttle (https://fractalsponge.artstation.com/projects/rwgma)
Pellaeon looked at the gray hull of the starship, trying not to think about what impression it made on the prisoners that this particular ship had been used to transport them.
The DX-9 was a relatively old landing-assault shuttle of the Imperial Navy.
The first models of the "Nine" had been commissioned into the fleet in the early years of the Galactic Empire.
Most of them had long since been decommissioned and placed in long-term storage.
At Imperial bases in the Deep Core.
So one could assume that the fleet of the resurrected Emperor had no shortage of such starships — morally obsolete and replaced by better models.
The primary purpose of the DX-9 was to board enemy starships and hostile space stations.
To that end, the shuttle was equipped with a universal docking collar that allowed it to dock with virtually any type of ship airlock.
If docking was impossible for any reason, the shuttle carried all the necessary equipment for cutting holes in a ship's or station's hull.
According to the boarding team's reports — it was by this latter method that they had captured the enemy shuttle.
And yet, despite the bygone era of active service for these shuttles, Pellaeon believed that the DX-9's time had ended too soon.
The ship was built by Telgorn Corporation, had good armor, and carried formidable weaponry: eight laser cannons from Time and Back Corporation, four ion cannons, and two detachable modular missile-torpedo launchers.
Characteristically, the five-man crew could engage multiple targets simultaneously with all missile and cannon armament.
When a group of such shuttles bore down on their target to deploy a boarding party, it was best for enemy fighters not to get in their way — the shuttle cannons would sweep them aside like a stream of micro-asteroids hitting an unarmored communications satellite.
Though the DX-9 could harm more than just fighters.
The firepower of a flight of shuttles was more than enough to inflict serious damage on a large ship, or even completely disable it — if damage was dealt to critical systems and components.
Incidentally, other Imperial boarding shuttles, such as the Gamma and ATR-6, possessed the same devastating forward firepower.
This feature was characteristic of boarding shuttles, because before docking with a target, the particle shields of the ship under attack, if any, had to be dropped — otherwise docking was impossible.
However, oddly enough, the advantages of this concept for landing-assault shuttles were also the reason for their rapid decline in the Imperial Starfleet.
Having only forward-facing weapons and no light cannons aft, along with the concentration of the protective field on the forward hemisphere, sometimes led to unfortunate consequences.
Lacking good maneuverability, the DX-9 could become an easy target for any fighter that managed to get on its tail.
In such a situation, the shuttle crew could neither evade nor drive the enemy off with return fire.
From instant destruction, the shuttle could be saved only by its shields, quadanium-titanium armor, and support from other DX-9s — which was possible with a well-coordinated formation.
But no matter how the shuttles advancing toward their target were arranged, the DX-9 still needed escort from groups of fighters or other combat shuttles with all-around firing arcs.
When operating at a distance from carrier ships and ground bases, DX-9 groups were escorted by Xg-1 Alpha heavy fighters or light gunships.
The ship could carry up to thirty stormtroopers or a dozen heavily armored space marines in its modest troop compartment.
However, unlike the more modern Gamma-class shuttles, deploying space infantry onto the hull of the target object was done the old-fashioned way — by jumping into space through open hatches.
Incidentally, having hatches on all sides of the shuttle expanded the DX-9's tactical options for docking with a target.
And when assaulting ships and stations through a hangar or deploying troops on a planet's surface, having multiple exit points ensured better survivability for the landing force under enemy fire.
By the time of the Battle of Hoth, the DX-9 shuttle was already considered morally obsolete and was gradually losing its place in Imperial warship hangars to more modern starships of its class.
And although there were fewer and fewer DX-9s each year, Imperial fleet commanders were in no hurry to retire the entire shuttle fleet, as these starships still remained among the best in the galaxy in their class.
In Imperial sector fleets, especially in secondary sectors, even after the Battle of Endor, large numbers of DX-9s and shuttles similar to them in performance and obsolescence were still in service.
In raiding and strike squadrons, as well as in ship groupings deployed in the galaxy's most important sectors up until the Battle of Endor, DX-9 shuttles also made up a significant percentage of all boarding-assault starships.
During this period, in addition to their primary role as landing shuttles, DX-9s began to be used for secondary tasks as well.
For example, DX-9s were used as transport shuttles to move officers between fleet ships, thus serving as an alternative to Lambda shuttles.
Some DX-9s were converted into refueling tankers and repair bots.
During long-range raids by fighter groups, a DX-9 converted into a tanker was extremely useful.
The tanker shuttle could replenish fuel, oxygen, and missile stocks between battle phases, and, if necessary, pick up an ejected pilot, and sometimes even recover his damaged fighter.
Thousands of DX-9s, shortly before the Battle of Hoth, were withdrawn from the fleet and put up for open sale.
Decommissioned and partially disarmed shuttles were sold as light transports to anyone interested.
This was a major mistake by Imperial officials.
The opportunity to legally acquire a DX-9 was immediately seized not only by honest cargo haulers, but also by certain criminal organizations and illegal armed groups, among which was the Rebel Alliance.
After the Battle of Endor, DX-9s could sometimes be found in pirate bands, private military companies, cargo haulers, and even in the New Republic fleet.
For example, the large Luminii pirate gang possessed a number of DX-9 shuttles.
In fact, the ship that had landed in the Guardian's hangar was part of the enemy's remnant fleet.
All this reference and analytical information flashed through the Guardian commander's mind as he looked at the starship.
And he knew for certain that he had nothing to do with this data — the information came to him from his genetic "father."
And he had gathered it throughout his entire career, piecing together fact after fact, observation after observation.
The ship's hatches hissed open in unison, accompanied by the stench of coolant gas, and clanged softly against the surface of the Super Star Destroyer's landing deck.
Captain Pellaeon winced, trying to do it as discreetly as possible, and adjusted his uniform.
The familiar gesture didn't help him calm down.
The aversion to the smell of coolant, like the nervous habit of tugging at his uniform, he had also received as an "inheritance."
He would like to know what Thrawn had in mind this time.
Whatever it was, Captain Pellaeon had already settled on the idea that he personally was unlikely to appreciate the new scheme.
About the predictability of that family, Thrawn could pontificate until Darth Vader's resurrection, but the Guardian's commander knew clearly that not one case of Corellians being forced to cooperate with representatives of the Empire had ever ended as planned.
And none of those deals had begun with an intelligence mission as audacious as a Jedi, a CorSec officer, a Republican, a pilot of Rogue Squadron serving a criminal syndicate.
Stormtroopers in 501st Legion uniforms efficiently and without unnecessary roughness brought three sentients onto the deck.
A woman, a burly man, a lean man.
Mirax Terrik Horn.
Booster Terrik.
Corran Horn.
The whole trio, assembled.
Judging by their expressions — they expected nothing good from the Dominion.
And they were certainly not inclined to cooperate.
"Prisoners delivered, sir," the boarding party commander reported.
"What about the ship?" Pellaeon inquired.
"Our specialists are searching it for traps and tracking devices," the stormtrooper explained. "Once it's safe — it will be delivered to the designated place and time."
"Good," Pellaeon looked at the captive trio.
Oh, yes.
They weren't at all happy about what had happened.
"Terriks to the guardhouse," the Guardian commander ordered. "Thoroughly search and scan. Change them into prison uniforms."
"Well, at least something in your gang hasn't changed," Booster Terrik boomed. "Though, hold on. Your Thrawn kicked the bucket, didn't he? Guess he couldn't stand being surrounded by nothing but brainless, pompous idiots..."
"Silence," without warning, the stormtrooper escorting the smuggler smacked him on the back of the head.
Terrik shot him an angry look.
"Don't think you can hide from me under your black-and-white armor," he promised. "I'll find your hand and shove it where you know what?"
"Gag them," Pellaeon ordered. "Keep their hands and feet bound until further orders."
"Yes, sir," the stormtrooper squad leader reported. "I must note that the cuffs are cutting off circulation and gangrene may set in..."
"I am familiar with escort regulations," Pellaeon replied, looking at the prisoners. "Keep their hands and feet constantly bound."
"Yes, sir."
The daughter and father were led out of the hangar.
Only Horn remained.
"Let's get this circus over with already," the Corellian said, glancing at the stormtrooper whose back bore a cage with Ysalamiri. "Do what you've planned and..."
"Gag him," Captain Pellaeon ordered, receiving the Corellian's lightsaber from the stormtrooper commander. "And take him to solitary. Assign droids to guard him."
While he didn't possess expertise in Captain Horn's abilities, the memory of his "ancestor" suggested it was better not to leave a Jedi, even one cut off from the Force, under the guard of sentient beings.
The real Gilad Pellaeon had witnessed far too often how easily Jedi could get into people's minds.
* * *
When the interrogation was finished and the satisfied Zabrak wiped his hands on a snow-white towel that had turned crimson, Captain Oland could barely hold back his breakfast.
What he had seen, what now lay on the medical cot for violent patients, strapped down with metal clamps to the bed, looked nothing like a sentient being.
And much more like a humanoid cutlet.
"This is... a slaughter," the man said with disgust, turning away from the observation screen.
"But at least you didn't have to foul up your reactor to get rid of that bio-trash," Lieutenant Mac said calmly, watching as a medical droid, having pronounced the interrogated man dead (if several hours of beating could be called interrogation), began packing him into an opaque body bag.
"Even then, there wouldn't have been this much filth," the Star Destroyer commander replied.
"Of course," the man agreed. "He would have simply burned up from the radiation and temperature of the artificial star."
"That would have been humane, at least," Oland stated.
Lieutenant Mac looked at him questioningly.
"After what happened in the throne room, you're still talking about mercy?" he asked in surprise.
"We're not animals..."
The attempt at justification sounded weak and uncertain.
"That's a good excuse for those who were tortured, torn apart, and devoured by Zanibars," the Zabrak snapped, stepping into the observation room.
He began washing his bloodied hands under the disinfectant tap, turning the clear liquid into a crimson stream.
Captain Oland shuddered, remembering what had happened in the throne room of the governor's residence.
"Mi-Ha the Hutt must answer for this."
The Marut commander's voice was as hard as the durasteel bulkheads on his Star Destroyer.
"That's why we attacked his underling and his gang," Lieutenant Mac explained calmly.
"You've decided to hand the sector over to the Dominion?" Oland asked.
A snort from the Zabrak made him nervous.
"Would it be better if it remained 'part of the Empire'?" the late Moff's adjutant clarified. "Or became another territory subjugated by the Hutts? In my opinion — no."
There was logic in those words.
Except for one fact.
"The Empire won't let this slide," Oland said. "The Tion Union is part of its territories."
"Formally," Lieutenant Mac reminded him. "In reality — they don't care about our sector. They don't care about any sector in the Tion Cluster. They're not even trying to crack down on the growing militarism of the Tion Hegemony, where things aren't as simple as they seem either."
"There's a pro-Imperial government there, just like in other sectors of the Cluster," Oland tried to protest.
Fully aware that his words were essentially empty air.
"I don't need to tell you that the government of the Tion Hegemony is pushing an initiative to subjugate all the Cluster's sectors," Mac said. "And soon they'll be ready to settle the matter if not through diplomacy, then by force. All they need is to choose the right moment."
"The collapse of the HoloNet broadcast is the right moment," Oland stated. "But they're nowhere near Tion Union territory."
If enemy ships appeared in the sector's systems, as was observed with the Hutt Interceptors, the garrisons would report it using the sector relay.
Communications within sectors were still available.
"But that doesn't mean they aren't operating in other sectors," Mac noted.
"We don't know that," Oland objected. "The Tion Union is currently the most vulnerable part of the Cluster..."
"From a starfleet perspective — yes," Mac said without flinching. "But we have the strongest army among all our neighbors. Qualitatively trained stormtroopers who won't falter..."
"Bantha poodoo," the Zabrak swore, finishing his procedures and looking at the arguing men. "Why are you coddling him? He doesn't understand a single thing that's going on! Just tell him straight! If he understands and accepts — we need him. If not — don't waste your time on him."
"Thanks for the advice," the Lieutenant replied coldly. "But I'll do things the way I see fit. Sector strategy is my job. Not yours, Guard. Please don't forget that..."
"Don't waste my time," the Zabrak said, a threat in his voice. "I have plenty to do besides these little games of yours about being 'good Imperials'! Open your eyes! Your Empire is rot and a nest of snakes, each one biting the others until only the strongest remains. But before that happens — the snake hunters will have destroyed most of the nest. Best case — only one remains, maybe a couple of burrows out of the whole lot. Worst case — you'll have to scurry off into the forest somewhere to save your life."
Oland looked at the Lieutenant.
"What's he talking about?" the Captain asked.
"Drop your mind games already, agent," the Zabrak snorted, looking at the Lieutenant. "Just honestly tell him what's going on. If he's not an idiot — he'll understand. And he'll join. If he can't — then we don't need him. Let him roll off in any direction. Worse than traitors are only indecisive allies. We don't need those. We'll manage on our own."
With those words, the Zabrak left the compartment, leaving behind even more questions than there had been before.
"Sir," Oland followed the Guard with his eyes and met Lieutenant Mac's gaze. "He made a pretty good point. Just tell me what's really going on. Start from the moment he called you an 'agent.'"
"That horned problem-bringer always delivers more problems than he solves," Lieutenant Mac winced.
He was silent for a few seconds, then asked:
"Do you believe the Empire can still be revived, Captain?"
The question caught the Marut's commander off guard.
A few days ago, he would have answered unequivocally, but now...
"I'm not sure," he said. "We've been in a desperate situation for too long for Orinda to have the chance to send us reinforcements and contain the Hutts..."
"So why haven't they done it?" the man inquired.
"I don't know," Oland admitted. "Maybe they're busy with the war against the New Republic and the Alliance..."
"And they can't spare even a dozen heavy cruisers to send here?" Mac clarified. "Or is draining resources, production, and the most competent personnel from the Remnants on the periphery to benefit Orinda's interests preferable to sending forces halfway across the galaxy? Fighting the Republicans instead of maintaining order and strengthening their own sectors... Doesn't that strike you as hypocrisy? Exactly the same kind that the commanders of the Arkanian Dragon and the Intruder showed — declaring their loyalty to the Empire but defecting to the Hutts' side?"
"I know of cases where Imperials have defected to the Dominion's side too," Oland fully understood that Mac was right, but at the same time, he felt resentment at how dismissively the Lieutenant spoke of the Empire. "You're apparently no exception. And I should arrest you for treason."
"But you haven't," the Lieutenant reminded him. "And you won't in the future. You'll never do it."
"You're far too confident in yourself," the Captain snorted. "My destroyer is still in diagnostics. And when that's finished, I will fulfill my duty to the Empire."
"You'll arrest me, the Dominion personnel, even if it costs you dearly among your own subordinates. And then what? You'll go arrest the crews of the Arkanian Dragon and the Intruder? They're traitors too."
"Hitting where it hurts," Oland winced. "You know perfectly well that the Marut can't stand in a fight against them."
"Not even against one," Mac corrected. "But we're still theorizing. So, you are true to your Oath. Fine. Duty requires you to do everything in your power to eliminate threats to the Empire. External and internal. Are you ready to fulfill your duty to the end?"
"Yes," Oland said angrily. "I am loyal to my state!"
"How hypocritical," he thought, recalling how recently he himself had spoken of the Empire's decay.
And that it had stopped caring about anyone.
"Excellent," Lieutenant Mac said calmly. "Then perhaps you should start with the Imperial Ruling Council?"
"What do they have to do with it?" Oland was surprised.
"It's not so easy to put into words..." the officer smirked. "Let me list some points. The Empire has collapsed into feudal fiefdoms controlled by warlords. The Empire exists only in the minds of patriots and idiots. We've actually become a confederation, parts of which pretend to be a unified whole when it's convenient for them. And this dubious 'merit' belongs primarily to Orinda. For the most part. Instead of strengthening the Empire, Orinda and the other Remnants are pulling the blanket over themselves, chasing their own benefit. Personal benefit. I think it's no secret to you that Moff Gronn was cooperating with the Hutts?"
"It's no secret to anyone."
"That's good. But what if I told you that the Imperial Ruling Council, along with the sector governments, contains individuals who are acting against the Empire's interests? Pursuing their own personal agendas — and sometimes not even their own. But those that their masters tell them to?"
"I don't quite understand what you mean..."
"Mi-Ha Hutt didn't blow up the moff's residence and my home for no reason," the adjutant's voice grew harder. "Allied Tion is part of the Hutt's masters' plan. And the masters of Moff Gronn, before he was killed. As well as the masters of a significant portion of the Imperials and Republicans who work as influence agents, doing everything necessary to weaken both states to the breaking point..."
"That sounds too fantastic to be true..."
Instead of answering, Lieutenant Mac pulled a data chip from his pocket and handed it to the captain.
"Study it at your leisure," he advised. "You'll learn a lot of new things."
"And what is this?" Oland turned the chip over in his hands with interest.
"A Dominion investigation regarding the Zann Consortium," Lieutenant Mac explained.
"Tyber Zann and his cronies have been rotting in their graves for a long time..."
Captain Oland stopped short, seeing Lieutenant Mac shaking his head negatively.
"Yes, the organization was destroyed. But even before the defeat that was dealt to him, Tyber Zann had started kidnapping and cloning influential individuals who held power. And he continued this for years. As a result — for a long time, the heads of the Imperial Remnants were puppets of Tyber Zann, operating from the underground. His goal was to seize the galaxy again. But to do it in such a way that the opponents — the Republicans and the Imperials — would weaken each other to the maximum. The Empire didn't fall apart for no reason, Captain. It was done deliberately."
"That's too..."
"Fantastic?" Mac clarified. "Yes, that's how it seems at first. But read the documents I gave you. Everything is described and explained in sufficient detail there, with examples."
"I wonder why the Dominion shared this information with you," Oland said thoughtfully. "Is it because..."
He fell silent, correlating what the Zabrak had told him with what the adjutant had revealed to him on his own.
"You're a Dominion agent," he said harshly.
"Yes," the other man didn't deny it.
"They planted you with Moff Gronn so you could bring Allied Tion into the Dominion! Don't jerk me around! You want to dismantle our chain of command so Pellaeon can just take it all..."
"By the time I began calling myself 'Lieutenant Mac,' Moff Gronn was already dead," the agent replied calmly, looking him in the eye. "And his place was taken by a clone acting in the interests of the Zann Consortium. Whose representative is Mi-Ha Hutt. And with the consent and assistance of the Gronn clone, Allied Tion was supposed to become part of the new Zann Consortium. Just like the other sectors of the Tion Cluster..."
"Nonsense," Oland snapped angrily. "Why would a clone, a servant of criminals, buy fifty-one legions of stormtroopers on Carida to protect the planets? Why would Mi-Ha Hutt blow up the clone and then send his own people to their deaths against our stormtroopers who are holding the garrisons and planets?!"
"Who told you the assault legions were bought by Moff Gronn?" the 'adjutant' clarified.
"But..."
Oland realized his logic had just taken a couple of shots to the knees and was now limping.
"I did," 'Lieutenant Mac' said calmly. "Acting on the orders of the Dominion."
"And what does Pellaeon get out of this?" Oland asked in surprise.
"Maybe because he doesn't just not care about the future of those who believe in the Empire?" Mac clarified. "Or because if the Dominion hadn't done what it did, Allied Tion would have already submitted to the Zann Consortium? Or would have fought against the Empire or the Alliance on the orders of a puppet, grinding down its armed forces in a pointless slaughter?"
"Or maybe none of this would have happened, and we'd still be in the position we existed in?"
"Correctly noted — 'existed,'" said 'Lieutenant Mac.' "Sooner or later, the Imperial armed forces in Allied Tion would either have been destroyed, or, as the commanders of the Arkanian Dragon and the Intruder did — gone over to the Zann Consortium's side."
"That doesn't add up," Oland declared. "If Gronn is a puppet of the Zann Consortium, why did he start changing ship patrol routes? Why did he start an economic war against Mi-Ha Hutt? You're saying he's their stooge!"
"The first clone — yes," 'Mac' answered. "But the one I was around and worked with — that was already a Dominion special operation. As you can see — the Dominion did everything to keep the sector from becoming part of forces hostile to the Empire. Orinda didn't care — they easily and casually elevate traitors."
"That even sounds like the ravings of a madman," Oland exclaimed. "You're messing with my head! Why even do this? I already understand that the Dominion has its eye on Allied Tion. But why do you need to recruit me? I still won't believe that the Imperial government, if it knew about something like this, wouldn't have taken measures to eliminate the threat."
A bitter smirk appeared on 'Lieutenant Mac's' face.
"The Dominion has no need to capture Imperial sectors," he said. "That, actually, would lead to big problems with Orinda."
"Then why?!"
"If you were faced with a choice — calmly watch as some criminals chew up the remnants of the Empire, sucking all the juice out of it, or intervene in what's happening, even if by unpopular methods — what would you do in the Dominion leadership's place?" the agent inquired.
"I'm not in their place!"
"We're theorizing..."
"I would have informed the Empire! Since the Dominion under Thrawn claimed to be 'a better embodiment of the Empire than the Empire itself,' why are they just sitting in isolation while the Empire fights the New Republic?! Why don't they help restore legitimate authority in the sectors?"
"And why would they?" asked 'Lieutenant Mac.' "The Empire spent thirty years doing everything possible to alienate the galaxy. Why forcibly impose the old regime, drowning planets in blood? The Dominion is doing just fine, winning over minds and hearts of beings, destroying pirates, freeing slaves, fighting crime..."
"They fought the New Republic too!"
"Because at that time, Grand Admiral Thrawn was the 'honorary' Supreme Commander of the Empire," 'Lieutenant Mac' reminded him. "The New Republic showed aggression by attacking the Empire's worlds. The Grand Admiral repaid them a hundredfold and continued until the New Republic stopped its aggressive actions. Have you noticed that for quite some time now, there's been no word of Republican raiders attacking Dominion logistics?"
"But they're still fighting against the Empire!"
"Yes. But the Empire and the Dominion are two different sides of the same Hutt. We defend ourselves and our population. We strike where our opponent intends to prepare the ground for an attack on us. As it was in the Bosph, D'Astan sectors and all along the northern stretch of the Hydian Way. We eliminate threats and restore justice. Instead of lining our pockets from the remnants of the Empire."
"That only happened because traitors like you killed the Emperor!" Captain Oland burst out. "Under him, there wasn't even a trace of such bantha poodoo!"
'Lieutenant Mac' looked at him almost sympathetically.
It even became somewhat awkward.
Because what was happening was a consequence, not the cause of the Empire's problems.
"And who, in your opinion, made it so that Imperial officials and military personnel spent all their time carving out spheres of influence and competing for the Emperor's attention and favor, instead of upholding the law and improving what was available to them?" inquired 'Lieutenant Mac.' "The sea dwellers rot from the head."
"I've had enough idioms and metaphors for today," the Star Destroyer commander declared sharply. "That you know how to find the right words and interpret what's happening in a light favorable to yourself — that's nothing new. But what you've told me could be spun another way."
"For example?" the Dominion agent clarified.
"For example?" the Star Destroyer commander repeated. "You said that after last year's campaign by Grand Admiral Thrawn, the New Republic stopped attacking Imperial convoys. Because Thrawn, supposedly, took the fight out of them. And thinned out their fleet numbers."
"That's a well-known fact."
"But if you take the rumors floating around the galaxy as truth, then it was Thrawn himself who was orchestrating terror against Imperial worlds," Captain Oland said angrily. "And with his death, the raids stopped. Coincidence?"
"Coincidence," the Dominion agent said in an indifferent tone. "But, an interesting thought."
"More than interesting," Oland continued, growing more heated. "With the right level of information, you can always turn a statement on its head and interpret it to your advantage."
"I agree," the Dominion agent nodded. "But, it's worth reminding you of your own words, said to the crew of the Maruta before you left the destroyer. Their most optimal course of action was to hand the ship over to the Dominion, because..."
"I remember what I said to my executive officer," 'Lieutenant Mac' was cut off by the ship's commander. "And until recently, I believed that the Dominion truly was the beacon of the Empire. The last bastion of Imperial order and proper treatment of citizens."
"And what changed?" asked 'Lieutenant Mac.'
"Everything!"
"You don't like hearing that one part of the Empire might act in its own and shared interests behind another's back?" the adjutant asked.
"It's disgusting," Oland agreed. "We've lost too much after the Emperor's death at Endor. We need to seek compromises, meet each other halfway, not trip each other up and piss in your neighbor's cup."
"Even if you know your neighbor is a traitor who would gladly stab you in the back because you're doing slightly better than he is?" the Dominion agent clarified.
"You can't let it come to that at all, when Imperials fight each other or do dirty deeds behind their comrades' backs!" Oland protested hotly. "When some Imperials use others, set them up, and kill them for their own interests, that's wrong! That's treason! Such things are punishable by death!"
"Golden words, Captain Oland," 'Lieutenant Mac' said with a sad smile. "Glad I wasn't wrong about you."
"In what exactly?"
"In that you are exactly the kind of man who still believes in the ideals of the Empire," the interlocutor explained. "At least in most of them. My advice — don't stray from them and stay true to yourself. Even if it costs you your career. Or, more obviously, your life."
"Are you daring to threaten me aboard my own ship?!" Oland exploded, clenching his fingers into fists.
"No," the man said wearily. "Just... I would advise you to keep to yourself what you've learned from me. And just watch how events unfold in the galaxy. Very soon, when he has savored the number of destroyed Imperials he considers traitors, Emperor Palpatine will emerge from the Deep Core with his armada onto the stage of galactic conflict..."
"Nonsense!" Oland threw back. "The Emperor is dead! No one can survive an explosion!"
"That's what everyone thinks," the Dominion agent shrugged. "But, according to our information, Palpatine is not an ordinary man."
"A cyborg?!"
"No. A Sith. Just like his apprentice, Darth Vader."
"Heresy!"
"A bitter truth," 'Lieutenant Mac' corrected. "He ruled us from the shadows, making us do his dirty work. Masking the achievement of his personal goals behind virtuous intentions, like the extermination of the Jedi or the genocide of the Caamasi. Perhaps he once did set himself the goal of creating an ideal state, but later his plans changed. And very soon he will return. He who cheated death. Gone mad. Desiring the death of his enemies — by any means necessary. To him, we are merely a resource that can always be replenished."
"I'll say it again. What you're saying is heresy! The Emperor, if he were alive, would never have abandoned the Empire, seeing it in such a state!"
"But he didn't abandon it," the Dominion agent said. "He summoned those warlords willing to grovel before him to his bases in the Deep Core. He took a large part of the Imperial Navy under his wing. You've read our combat manuals, haven't you?"
"Of course!"
"Then where is half our fleet?" asked 'Lieutenant Mac.' "Why isn't there any word about our Star Super Destroyers like the Retribution, the Eclipse, the Sovereign? Why did all the newest starships vanish at once? Where did the numerous squadrons led by famous warlords like the Teradoc brothers, Dalvarus, Harrsk, and others disappear to?"
"Presumably, they were destroyed during the war in remote sectors," Oland suggested.
"How many ships, known to all Imperials, simply vanished in the galaxy, but the Republicans, who blow up every little puff of smoke as an unconditional victory, are silent about having destroyed them?" the 'adjutant' inquired ironically. "Isn't that too big an oversight in the work of the comprehensive Republican propaganda apparatus?"
"Maybe," Captain Oland said uncertainly. "But, one way or another, I rely on facts. Can you provide me with data that the Emperor survived? And that he really is manipulating the Remnants for his own purposes? Can you prove that this isn't just your empty chatter?"
"The facts the Dominion has — are on the chip I gave you," said the 'adjutant.'
"But, by your own words, that's about the Zann Consortium's activities, isn't it?"
"Of course," 'Lieutenant Mac' agreed. "Don't you see the connection? Manipulation from the shadows to get what you want?"
"Nonsense," Oland said firmly. "Why would the Emperor manipulate both the Empire and a criminal syndicate?"
"Control," the interlocutor explained. "Total control. The Empire already suffered once from the actions of the Zann Consortium. The Emperor, though mad, still knows how to learn from his past mistakes. And he has enough servants who also hide in the shadows and advance the Emperor's plan."
"Still sounds absurd," the Star Destroyer commander said firmly. "Your arguments are not an answer to the question posed. Using the Imperial Remnants, he could have easily destroyed any crime in the galaxy. Once and for all."
"So why didn't he do it earlier?" inquired 'Lieutenant Mac.' "Is it not because his personal interests involve duplicating plans? What do you do when you return from oblivion several years after your death with a massive fleet and lay claim to the Empire? How do you answer the questions of billions of citizens who will ask why the Emperor didn't make himself known before?"
"That he was gathering strength and preparing to save us all," Oland declared firmly.
"And isn't it simpler to create problems for every Remnant, bring them to the brink of destruction, and appear in the role of savior, inspirer, icon of liberation, and kill all the enemies at once? Who would question the one who came to the Empire's aid at the most difficult moment of its existence?"
There was no counterargument.
It sounded so logical that Oland almost had no doubt about what was happening.
But he also didn't believe it could be true.
Didn't want to believe it.
It was...
Too much.
Beyond any pragmatism.
"Just like handing over subordinates to cannibals," a thought stirred in his head, based on the horror he had recently witnessed.
"I can't believe you," he forced out. "The reasoning is logical, and I don't doubt that you prepared for this conversation, planned it thoroughly. As intelligence always does. But without facts — your words are just words. You're suggesting I trade my Oath and the honor of my uniform for unsubstantiated claims that what's happening in the galaxy is part of a plan by numerous individuals? The Emperor, his associates, the Zann Consortium? I've lived long enough in the galaxy to understand — if even part of this were true, there would inevitably be rumors of various kinds circulating. And until now, before you said this — no one even hinted that the Zann Consortium was rebuilding. As for the rest, I'm silent — no confirmation..."
"You want facts," 'Lieutenant Mac' stated. "Very well, that's a logical and understandable desire. Unfortunately, I cannot provide you with facts..."
"Then the conversation is over."
"I can't right now," the interlocutor clarified. "But, I'm offering you a deal."
"And if I'm not interested?"
"Then I was still wrong about you," 'Lieutenant Mac' shrugged. "And you're not the man the Dominion needs."
"And what do you need me for? Don't talk to me about my exceptional qualities or that you were impressed by my idealism."
"Not quite," the 'adjutant' replied. "The Dominion needs combat officers. Those who know what loyalty to duty and the Oath means. Only for this reason am I spending my time, as the Shadow Guard said, and having this conversation with you here and now."
"Poaching."
"Offering an alternative. Exactly the one you talked about to your subordinates. To fight for the ideals you believe in, not to become a bargaining chip in the games of warlords and bureaucrats."
"First — I need facts," Oland cut him off. "I've heard too many conclusions. Confirm at least some of them with something more substantial than hot air. At least your claim that part of the Empire's elite were replaced by clones to dismantle the state. Or that the Zann Consortium even exists."
"Oh," the Dominion agent smiled. "That's the easiest part. That's actually my mission in Allied Tion. To establish a foothold and prevent the puppets of Tyber Zann and the Emperor from carrying out their plan."
"And what is their plan regarding my home sector?" the Star Destroyer commander asked.
"So you already know it yourself," the Dominion agent said. "They are creating a foothold in the Tion Cluster to use it for striking the Alliance and the New Republic in this part of the galaxy."
"That's the dream of Lord Bonteri of the Tion Hegemony," said the Imperial. "And also a pathological mania of the Tionites..."
"Which I skillfully use against them," said the 'adjutant.' "Lord Bonteri is another puppet of the Zann Consortium. Which, in turn, is harboring its own plans, not realizing it's serving as a puppet for the Emperor's underlings. At least the strategic analysis of the situation says exactly that."
"And you have no proof of that either, I suppose?" Oland chuckled, shaking his head.
"That's precisely why we've opened the hunt on Mi-Ha Hutt," 'Lieutenant Mac' explained. "He's the Zann Consortium's ambassador in Allied Tion. We capture him — and we'll learn more."
"And then what? What will you do with the Hutt and his organization?"
"There will be no 'then' for them," the 'adjutant' declared. "The Dominion doesn't stand on ceremony with criminals. No matter who they work for — they are destroyed. Except those who are ready to atone for their guilt and join the units that destroy these very criminals."
"In that case, I'm willing to help you defeat Mi-Ha Hutt and his organization," Oland declared. "But I want to be present during the interrogations."
"Of course," the Dominion agent agreed. "You will be given that opportunity. But, what then? You must understand that you have been told classified information. And I cannot allow it to fall into the hands of the Dominion's enemies."
"In other words — either I'm with you, or I'm a corpse?" the commander of the Maruta chuckled without humor.
Fully aware that the prospects didn't please him.
"In other words — either you're with the Dominion, or you're not with our enemies," 'Lieutenant Mac' clarified. "In any part of the galaxy. You live and you don't get involved with either Imperials or Republicans. But, in the latter case — keep your mouth shut. For your own safety."
"And if not?" Oland was itching to ask.
"Otherwise," the Dominion agent continued, "someone like the Shadow Guard will come for 'talkers.' You've already seen the work of their representatives with your own eyes."
Oland glanced at the exit of the medical bay, recalling the Zabrak with the manic look.
"I hope you'll find the evidence to back up your words," he said. "Because I really don't want to be disappointed in those I considered decent representatives of the Empire."
* * *
The return of Lieutenant Colonel Tierce and his men is, perhaps, the best piece of news.
Especially considering the upcoming events.
"The Alliance and Syndicate fleets are approaching," my adjutant reported the latest information. "They will arrive in the system shortly."
"Excellent, Lieutenant Colonel," I assessed the information. "As we can see, our opponents can't wait to conquer Kessel. Well, we are ready for battle. Has Mr. Pent received everything he needs?"
"Yes, he is studying the enemy ship," the adjutant confirmed the execution of the order to examine the Horn's shuttle.
But I wasn't interested in the cloaking system.
But rather where and on which astronomical bodies the starship had been.
And exactly how it had crossed the minefields on approach to Kamino and Rothana.
A backup invasion plan should always be at hand.
One of them is bound to work.
"Will there be any special orders regarding the Corellians captured on the ship?"
"For now, I'm perfectly satisfied that they are locked in cells from which they will have an excellent view of the destruction of two fleets from two opponents," I said. "And then... Well, any enemy can be made an offer they can't refuse."