Ten years, three months, and twelve days after the Battle of Yavin…
Or the forty-fifth year, third month, and twelve days after the Great Resynchronization.
(Nine months and thirty-two days since the Arrival.)
There's nothing better in the whole wide world, than blowing up a Zygerrian's engine for him.
The vulgar rhyme popped into Captain Kalian's head at the very moment his destroyer's missile salvo struck the cargo ship of Zygerrian slavers.
There was something symbolic about it.
The Steel Aurora had just shot out the engines of a YV-865-class cargo ship.
Also known as the Aurore.
During the Clone Wars, this type of starship gained notoriety as a slaver transport used by Separatist supporters like the Zygerrians and Thalassians.
Was there anything surprising about slave-trading empires supporting opponents of a legitimate regime?
No, none at all.
Especially considering that among the Republicans there were also those with close ties to slave-trading empires.
The YV-865 Aurore — class cargo ship.
Built by the Corellian Engineering Corporation, this freighter, with its dimensions not exceeding fifty-five meters in length, is equipped with a Class 2 hyperdrive.
Armed with a pair of laser cannons in the nose and a capture attachment, with controls simple enough for a single pilot, it was a fairly formidable vessel in such remote territories as the Vyl sector.
The Vyl and Chorlian sectors.
Not so long ago, Vyl, like its neighbor Chorlian, despite its proximity to the Perlemian Trade Route from the east and the Corellian sector from the north, was considered part of the unexplored Wild Space.
Where the law of force was prized above all.
It was in the Chorlian sector that the infamous Zygerrian slave-trading Empire arose and developed.
The Clone Wars and the Republic as a whole did much to humble the Zygerrians, which drove them to cooperate with the Confederacy of Independent Systems.
The Empire, which succeeded the Old Republic, chose to turn a blind eye to what was happening in this region.
Unsurprisingly, smugglers, slavers, pirates, mercenaries, Hutts, and other galactic scum felt quite at ease here.
Despite Vyl sector formally supporting the Empire (what remained of it), aside from a pair of Carrack-class patrol light cruisers, there was no Imperial presence here whatsoever.
And now, watching an entire caravan of Aurores that had emerged from hyperspace at the border between the Vyl sector and territories belonging to the "corporates" scatter in all directions, Kalian even found it amusing.
You don't see a sight like that every day.
Zygerrian slave ships, guarded by every Imperial ship in the Vyl sector at once.
Yes, both Carracks were here.
And now they were rushing about like cornered animals, along with their "wards," not understanding what was happening.
And Kalian, along with the entire crew of The Steel Aurora and five other Victory III — class destroyers, supported by two interdictor cruisers and eight Crusader II — class support corvettes, who had surrounded the enemy in a "bowl" formation and pinned them against the minefield's boundaries, could enjoy the spectacle.
Two dozen enemy ships scurried about, unable to comprehend why Dominion cannons and missiles were raining down on them.
The Zygerrians tried to flee, but they were pursued and herded back into the "corral" by a pair of TIE Interceptors and the corvettes.
Those enemies who charged forward, away from the Dominion ship formation, hoping to escape the pernicious influence of artificial gravity, didn't achieve their goals.
The corvettes, like herding animals, drove the Bantha flock back into the makeshift "pen."
"Sir, the Striving and the Adamant report both Carracks have been disabled," the duty officer reported.
"Good," Kalian nodded. "Was their commander found?"
"Not on board, sir," the lieutenant grinned crookedly. "Tried to escape in a modified TIE Fighter. The interceptors shot him down. They're hauling him into the hangar now, after hitting him with ion cannons."
"Deliver him to me immediately after you extract him from the 'eyeball,'" Kalian ordered.
Yes, TIE-series craft were called "eyeballs" for a reason.
Their cockpit really does look like a sentient being's eye.
While his order was being carried out, Kalian continued to watch the slaughter his subordinates were orchestrating.
No, they weren't destroying the Zygerrian starships with homing anti-ship missiles.
Although he really wanted to.
It would have been much less trouble.
But facts are facts.
On board each of these Aurore — class ships there are no fewer than one and a half, possibly even two hundred slaves.
According to intelligence data, they were all captured by Zygerrian slavers, then appropriately "trained," and were supposed to be delivered to the Corporate Sector.
It was there that they, obedient and ready to die on their masters' orders, were to be "put to work."
The Vyl sector forces were supposed to provide escort for the caravan for the entire journey.
It occurred to some Zygerrian that since the HoloNet servers had gone dark, it might jeopardize the transport.
And they "turned for help" to the local ruler, another puppet of the Zann Consortium, like so many others…
Footsteps and annoyed muttering sounded behind him.
Kalian turned toward the source of the noise.
A pair of guards, their red-black armor polished to a mirror shine, were unceremoniously dragging a short, pudgy man in a worn-out Imperial uniform by the arms toward the central platform where Kalian stood.
"What do you think you're doing?" the little man squeaked, seeing the commander of The Steel Aurora before him and correctly identifying him as the commander of the entire Dominion Star Destroyer formation. "I am an Imperial Moff! I order you to submit!"
"You're dirt under a fingernail, not an Imperial Moff," Kalian calmly set priorities, measuring the man with a contemptuous look.
"I… Do you have any idea… what do you think you're doing, Captain?!" the little man puffed up with self-importance. "I only have to contact Orinda, and you'll be demoted to a cabin boy in charge of cleaning the heads!"
"That's done by mouse droids," Kalian calmly clarified the situation. "But Orinda won't help you. And moreover, you won't be contacting her."
The man, squinting his beady eyes, finally spotted the chevron with a golden gear on the shoulder of The Steel Aurora's commander.
"The Dominion?!" his eyes widened so much they were about to pop out of their sockets. "This is war! You've interfered in the Empire's affairs! As soon as the Imperial Ruling Council learns that you've attacked our transport convoy, you'll be destroyed."
Kalian calmly pointed to the holoprojector.
"Go ahead," he offered. "Contact them."
"Are you mocking me?!" the man hissed. "The HoloNet is down."
"Even if it were working, you wouldn't do it," Kalian said. "You haven't contacted Orinda even once in recent years. You just sent them token payments of ridiculous taxes, just enough so the Imperial Ruling Council wouldn't pay attention to what's going on here. Just like the other Moffs in territories near the Corporate Sector. Because," Kalian nodded toward the command bar on the Moff's fat chest, "even though you wear Imperial insignia and an Imperial uniform, you've been serving a different master for a long time now."
"What are you even talking about?" the Moff trembled, shrieking and turning his head. "What's this? What injection? Are you trying to kill me?"
"Don't worry," Kalian advised. "They just took a blood sample, not injected you with poison."
"And what do you need my blood for?!" the panic was gradually fading from the Moff's face.
But far too quickly for someone who's shaking in his boots.
"We'll give it to the medics, they'll run a DNA test," Kalian continued as if nothing had happened. "And we'll find out whether you're a traitor by nature, or just a simple clone with a washed brain."
"What do you think you're…" the Moff literally hung on the guards' arms, ."..doing, Captain?"
"As I said, we took a blood sample," Kalian reminded him. "But at the same time, we injected a neurotoxin that paralyzes your muscle contractions and numbs your nerve endings. Can you feel your body going numb and starting to tingle?"
The fat Moff's eyes shot up to Kalian.
Murderous intent was readable in them.
The commander of The Steel Aurora approached the prisoner, took him by the chin, and turned his head to observe his dilating pupils.
"Yes, it's working as intended," he commented. "Well, we've got another way to neutralize Zann's lackeys. Counterintelligence was distressed that you all bite off your tongues or poison yourselves. And you would have poisoned yourself," Kalian commented on the action of one of the guards, who stuck his fingers into the "Moff's" mouth and pulled out a couple of teeth with a metal capsule inside. Tough bastard, no argument there. "Sure as hell — poison capsules. Don't even need an analysis here — it's obvious anyway, clone. Actually, I never doubted what you really are. It was enough to read the intelligence reports and understand what you've turned your sector into."
Kalian turned away from the Moff, clasping his hands behind his back.
"You provide security for Zygerrian slavers so they can unhinderedly deliver sentients, who've undergone their 'training,' to the Zann Consortium's holdings," he listed, watching as his ships shot out the engines of the Zygerrian vessels, then boarded them. "How many sentients are in this caravan? Fifteen hundred? Two thousand? I assume your masters planned to stuff them all into the cockpits of Zann Consortium fighters," at least, that's what Dominion Intelligence data suggested. "You've been having problems with pilots and ships lately. I also suspect that whatever was left of your sector fleet that Orinda didn't grab, you handed over to Zann after being replaced by a clone. A pity about the crews…"
Kalian was silent, observing new shuttles docking in the place of some assault shuttles lifting off from the damaged ships.
So the procedure for transferring the slaves to Dominion ships was already in full swing.
A little later, the former helpless prisoners would be handed over to counterintelligence, which would conduct debriefing sessions and assess the potential threat level each sentient posed to the Dominion.
Whether to allow them to become residents, and potentially citizens, of the new state would be decided by the Dominion Security Bureau's leadership on an individual basis.
And the DSB would be held accountable for its mistakes if a deep-cover agent or terrorist slipped into the Dominion disguised as a loyal resident.
The personal files of every Dominion resident and citizen contain a note about the identity of the officer who approved their crossing of the border.
For every mistake — personal responsibility.
For every refusal — proper motivation.
Which, if deemed implausible by higher-ranking officers, would become grounds for questioning the screener themselves.
"There's much to hold you accountable for, Moff," Kalian said. "For recruiting xenophobes from Draytos into your armed forces, allowing you to conduct punitive campaigns across the entire sector and enslaving other species, handing them over to Zann as 'cannon fodder.' For organizing the mass export of decorative stone — the main value and primary export commodity on Beta Olicark — leaving the locals to starve to death. For the death camp on Azarak IV, where you executed everyone who tried to rise up against the Zann Consortium. For re-establishing the 'Coruscant Boys' mercenary and thug gang, which became your punitive detachment based in the namesake system. For organizing weapons production for the Zann Consortium on the planet Draa III at the Kell Corporation facility. For looting Imperial arsenals and handing them over to Tyber Zann and his minions. For enslaving the population of the planet Lafra. The one thing you're innocent of, 'Moff,' is the Empire's attack on Corperan, when ninety thousand refugees were killed. Yes, that order was given by your original, which only proves you're every bit the bastard as the donor. In fact, any one of these acts would be enough for execution," Kalian looked at the paralyzed "Moff," "but you can be sure of one thing: your life's path won't end so easily. The Dominion will call both you and your accomplices to account. By the way, if I remember correctly, they were supposed to have already sent a new convoy for new slaves to Zygerria, weren't they?"
The "Moff's" gaze was more eloquent than words.
"Yes, our intelligence did its job," the commander of The Steel Aurora replied to the unspoken question. "All your papers, chips, secret correspondence — are no longer secrets. As is the slave caravan schedule. I only regret one thing — we managed to intercept only one of them. But this is just the beginning, Moff. All the hyperspace routes connecting the Vyl sector with Zygerria are under the control of Dominion ships. Every one of your accomplices will be caught, identified, and brought to justice. And then — sent to the Kessel mines, where the energy spiders will turn them into good spice. Which will then go to medical facilities and become part of medicines. Drugs meant to save lives, not destroy them. An interesting twist of fate, 'Moff.' You and your accomplices destroyed sentient lives. And soon you'll become part of what will save them."
Kalian looked at the chronometer.
"Well, if your cronies are keeping to the schedule, they'll be here very soon… Oh," far ahead of the Dominion ships' position, starships appeared, yanked out of hyperspace by the gravity traps of the asteroid-stations placed here previously. "Your accomplices have arrived, 'Moff.'"
A crooked, yet triumphant smile appeared on the face of The Steel Aurora's commander.
"Watch what happens to them," he turned to the "Moff," urging him to pay attention to the fate of more than twenty ships — Zygerrian slaving starships. "They're very unlucky that there isn't a single slave on board. But there are mines."
The immobilized "Moff" could only watch as the Zygerrian slavers, finding themselves in the middle of an artificial gravity zone, discovered that besides that, they also had self-propelled magnetic mines right beside them.
Kalian also spared a few seconds for the spectacle.
He saw nothing new in the distant detonations of enemy starships.
After all, minefields were thickly and generously scattered across many tens of standard units on every hyperspace route leading out of the Corporate Sector.
And enemy ships blew up there regularly.
No matter how hard the Zann Consortium tried to pull fleets from satellite sectors to their defense, or conversely, to send them any help at all, not one would get through.
They'd all remain here as piles of scrap metal.
Captain Kalian's and several other formations' task was merely to intercept slave ships in time and replenish the integrity of the minefields and gravity barriers.
The Zann Consortium didn't understand what beast they had awakened when they recently attacked the Dominion.
Well, now let them reap the consequences with a full ladle.
In an impenetrable blockade.
* * *
After Agent "Bravo-Eleven" finished his detailed report, absolute silence fell in my quarters.
It seemed even Lieutenant Colonel Tierce, who was still in the room and still pale after his time in the bacta tank, had stopped breathing.
Captain Pellaeon and Mara Jade also showed no difference between life and stone statues.
And Sergius went without saying.
As always — collected, calm, cautious.
"Thank you, Agent," I said. "The information you've provided is incredibly valuable."
"Permission to leave, sir?" he inquired.
"You're dismissed," I confirmed.
As soon as the agent left the quarters, those present seemed to have heard a command from a children's game.
Or perhaps the signal was R7's arrival, as he delivered a cage with ysalamiri into our vicinity.
Since Jade had done everything she could to verify the agent, there was no more point in exposing ourselves to unnecessary danger by "shining in the Force."
"Unfreeze!" was realized not only in the appearance of emotions, but also in a lively reaction to the agent's words.
"Did you decide to interrogate him to check if he's lying?" Jade clarified, studying me carefully.
"He's not lying," I assured her.
"Silri could have turned him," Tierce said tightly.
It seemed he still hadn't recovered from the fight with the Inquisitors.
Which, like the confrontation with Urai Fen, had cost him and his subordinates dearly.
"That's why we needed the Hand here," I nodded toward Mara. "What do you say?"
The red-haired beast shrugged.
It seemed she was slightly disappointed that she had been invited not for the promised one-on-one conversation.
Never mind. She'll deal with it. She's not a child.
Business is more important.
"At least I don't sense any threat from him," she admitted. "But I can't guarantee he's loyal to the Dominion."
"At the very least, he's not a clone," Pellaeon noted. "DNA analysis showed it's the same agent who went on the mission."
"Silri wants us to believe her," I said. "After her sabotage attempt, which she's convinced succeeded thanks to Agent Bravo-Eleven's performance, she decided to propose an arrangement."
"Most likely, she counted on us jumping at the chance to continue cloning," Lieutenant Colonel Tierce offered. "Assuming, of course, she believed our cloning cylinders were destroyed. From the agent's account, she doesn't come across as a trusting sort."
"It's definitely a test, among other things," I said. "Silri recognized Bravo-Eleven as an Ubiqtorate agent almost immediately. And she didn't buy his cover story."
No paranoid subject would trust someone who came to hire on under one guise, then, once caught lying and collaborating with the galaxy's most dangerous intelligence service, claimed he was 'former.'
There are no former Ubiqtorate agents.
And the fact that Sergius himself had actively worked against the Zann Consortium, which Silri served, didn't exactly inspire confidence either.
The story that Silri's sabotage had supposedly succeeded, that with Lady Jashi's help some of the Dominion's leadership had been poisoned and the 'Spaarti cloning cylinders' from the batch discovered on Cartao had been destroyed — that might have worked.
If Silri had gotten confirmation of Drashi's mission from a more reliable source than Sergius.
"Silri can't know about the Spaarti cloning cylinders from Mount Tantiss," Grodin declared.
"Judging by her story, Zann obtained data on the Emperor's vaults," Pellaeon countered.
"The conversation was probably about the Imperial Palace in the Corporate Sector," Mara speculated. "Because seeing Zann's greed for other people's things, it's strange he didn't get his claws on Wayland."
"He might have tried," Grodin replied. "We never did identify who exactly C'baoth's clone killed."
The idea had merit.
"I doubt losing a few agents would have stopped him," Mara said with a grimace. "No, more likely Palpatine kept the Wayland coordinates either in his head or — not on the Eclipse. He wasn't one to put all his chicks in one nest."
Couldn't argue with that either.
The creation of Byss and the secret accumulation of a fleet, hidden from the Empire, fully confirms it.
"Either way, we only have three days left to give an answer," Pellaeon reminded us. "And to use the coordinates from that chip Silri gave the agent."
Yes...
The chip that materialized in her hand in the green flame of Dathomirian magic.
Call me overcautious, but I opted to have that data storage device copied onto a datapad completely isolated from any network.
The chip itself was moved to Kessel and then delivered via shuttle to a random point in space in a neutral sector.
With a small 'surprise' in case the technicians were wrong and it does contain a tracking device.
Or it can be tracked using Dathomirian magic or some other method we don't know about.
In any case, except for the Vengeance, this chip never traveled on Imperial-design ships.
Except for the shuttle.
"We shouldn't overlook the fact that Silri is testing us," I said. "And what we say isn't that important. She's watching our reaction. If she intends to verify whether Lady Drashi actually harmed us, then the cloning proposal isn't what it seems."
"No self-respecting warlord would cooperate with someone who destroyed his strategic assets and poisoned his commanders," Tierce agreed.
"The Dominion certainly wouldn't," Pellaeon concurred. "At least — my donor wouldn't. Under the current circumstances, where only cloning cylinders were lost and sentients — albeit high-ranking ones — were poisoned... he wouldn't. He'd exhaust every other option first."
A correct assessment.
That's exactly how the real Pellaeon acted in the Expanded Universe events I knew.
Even without the cloning cylinders, after Thrawn's death and the loss of all Imperial warlords, he resisted the New Republic for as long as there was still a possibility to do so.
"On the other hand, if we agree to her offer to provide specialists and let her clone them, we'll be vulnerable," I said. "Yes, it might partly show her that we're desperate and have lost our source of clone supply. But the threat lies elsewhere."
"She's demanding supplies of ysalamiri and our specialists," Grodin recalled. "It's a trap."
"Of course," I agreed. "Her entire proposal is a trap. But in this case, she wants our specialists, whom she can clone for herself. Not to mention that providing her with ysalamiri would allow Silri to use them to accelerate cloning — not just of supposedly our soldiers."
"There's no guarantee she won't kill our soldiers to get the ysalamiri," Mara proposed.
"She won't kill them," I corrected her. "She'll clone them. But she'll program them to obey her orders. Then she'll give the order, and they'll turn against us in an instant."
"Like the clones against the Jedi," the Guardian's commander said with a grimace.
"Yes."
A beautiful Trojan horse.
Elegant. Just what your enemies need.
And it would strike right in the back.
A million, two million, three million, ten million such traitors in the Dominion's rear, on its ships, at planetary defense installations, at defensive stations, on the Perimeter — and the defense would collapse as if it never existed.
Typical Nightsister elegance and cunning, taken to its absolute.
But it would only work if she considered us incompetent idiots.
And that got me thinking.
Silri was probably hoping that the poison in Lady Darash's horns had wiped out the sharpest commanders in the Dominion.
And that the survivors, in desperation, would come crawling to her for help and silently swallow the deadly bait.
"Only an idiot wouldn't see this trap," Mara snorted.
On the other hand, I'd like to know who thought of this before I voiced this potential line of behavior for Silri.
"Silri doesn't intend to share the galaxy," I said. "Her plan hasn't changed — she intends to use us to destroy the Zann Consortium, and then strike at the Dominion itself."
In fact, she hadn't hidden this. At the beginning of her conversation with Sergius, she told him she wanted it all.
Including to 'pit the Dominion against the Zann Consortium or the Alliance and drive them away from the galactic east while my army and fleet are prepared.'
What's more, Silri directly told the agent that since 'they failed to kill their leadership with nerve gas,' they now needed to 'decapitate the Dominion immediately.'
Therefore, she doesn't believe Drashi succeeded.
And this further confirms her disbelief in Sergius's story that the poison worked.
So, Silri is playing with us.
And she's doing it with such arrogance, to show us that she's in control and we have no choice but to agree.
A typical dominance display from a Nightsister.
Their culture gives a direct answer to what power should be: demonstrative.
Those who submit must know that no other option exists for them — only to serve.
"How confident can we be that there are no agents of hers among our own troops?" Mara inquired. "She managed to find out about Organa-Solo's pregnancy before the mother herself did."
"As confident as our capabilities allow," I replied, pondering her words.
Absolute security doesn't exist.
No matter how good the counterintelligence service, there's always someone smarter than our specialists.
It's not for nothing that our DSB has a vast network of agents watching everyone who crosses our borders and settles in our territories.
"I'd be worried about Silri hinting at an interest in Solo's third child," Mara stated. "And considering she knows Palpatine survived, that could mean a lot."
And given that in the events I know, Palpatine, after the destruction of his clones, tried to transfer his consciousness into the body of little Anakin Solo — the third child of that legendary couple — it becomes very unsettling.
The Solo kids caused a lot of problems.
They were kidnapped, recruited, turned against the New Republic and their family more than once...
Yes, they could cause a fair number of problems in the hypothetical future.
But what else could you expect from parents who saved the galaxy first and thought about child-rearing later?
I find the story from the Expanded Universe, about the Solo twins — Jaina and Jacen — in the 'Jedi Academy' trilogy, particularly telling.
Those kids preferred and adored Winter, Organa-Solo's assistant, obeying and respecting her more than their own mother.
But then, who else would children obey when their mother and father are constantly traipsing across the galaxy, and the only one around is the nanny?
A very interesting gambit...
Very interesting.
"Are you suggesting we protect the Solo couple?" Captain Pellaeon inquired.
"I'm suggesting we note that it's no coincidence Silri drew attention to knowing more than even Organa-Solo herself," Mara snapped back. "Her hints aren't really hints. She's almost directly telling us she knows and can do much more than we can."
"No one is perfect," I said placatingly. "Our agents have their tasks. Silri's agents have theirs. Their success isn't always our failure. Besides, we haven't received sufficient confirmation of Organa-Solo's new pregnancy yet."
"Why would Silri lie?" Mara asked, surprised.
"Off the top of my head, I can name eighteen hypotheses," I said, looking intently at the young woman. "But discussing someone else's personal life isn't the subject of this meeting."
"Be that as it may, we've seen what Vader's spawn can do," Mara shuddered. "And if they raise three more such brats who go around blowing up our battle stations for fun..."
"Don't exaggerate," Pellaeon asked. "They're just children."
"And Luke Skywalker first sat in a starfighter cockpit and blew away a million Imperial servicemen and a huge pile of Imperial taxes on his first sortie," Jade retorted. "I'm just reminding you that we have a headquarters that looks a lot like the Death Star. Not hinting at anything, but I'm guessing if these kids grow up in that family, they might, in about eighteen years, follow family tradition and launch a couple of proton torpedoes into our headquarters' exhaust shaft..."
That was actually a rather subtle jab.
"Enough," I ordered. "You, Hand, should be more concerned with what holocron Silri acquired. And what exactly she got from it. How she might be able to use it. Considering what our Jensaarai have gained from the materials found on Ossus, it's logical to assume our enemy also has something special.
Of everyone present, I knew at least part of what Silri now has at her disposal after acquiring the holocron Tyber Zann had been 'playing with' and using it.
In the cutscene for the second part of the strategy game, Silri landed on an unknown asteroid and used the holocron as a key to a base's systems.
In its depths were hundreds, if not thousands, of soldiers frozen in carbonite.
A rather massive reference to Han Solo's misadventures at the end of Episode V and the beginning of Episode VI.
"Can a holocron be that dangerous?" Pellaeon wasn't doubting my words.
He genuinely didn't know what could be so critically important in something that looked like a trinket for home decoration.
"Yes," Mara admitted reluctantly. "That holocron currently being used to train the Jensaarai Order contains many techniques not even known in the old Jedi Order. A Sith holocron could contain anything. From star-destroying techniques to methods of mass mind control. Some ancient superweapon... Especially since Silri mentioned some kind of map in the holocron. Maybe the device itself has nothing valuable except that route. But what's at the end of it could be anything. Up to... I've already outlined the possibilities. I don't see the point in repeating myself. But, in my opinion, any holocron not in our hands is a potential weapon of mass destruction. If Skywalker had one, he'd have already trained an army of Jedi. Fey'lya, too, for that matter. In short, it's big, big trouble."
Even though Mara's explanation was a bit disjointed, I agreed with it.
Not just because I knew more than they did.
But also because I understood from my experience studying this universe that insignificant secrets aren't stored on holocrons.
Especially Sith ones.
Every time a Sith holocron surfaced in history, the galaxy got a headache.
Darth Bane alone, who about a thousand years ago dug up Darth Revan's holocron, was enough to cause the Jedi Order to cease to exist thirty years ago, the constitutional order of the galaxy's largest state to change, and Sith rule to be established over thousands upon thousands of star systems.
"In other words, we could be facing an enemy who possesses a superweapon of unknown design, characteristics, and area of effect?" Tierce's gaze hardened.
"Yes," Mara nodded. "I seriously doubt that holocrons contain great-granny's recipes from some Sith or Jedi grandma."
I don't like the way she's 'joking' like this.
Of course, a certain degree of sarcasm and dark humor is inherent to her, but during this conversation, her humor is getting too 'harsh.'
"However, we have to give Zann credit for how he managed to fool everyone and use that holocron to search for the Emperor's secrets," Pellaeon said.
Glancing at me, he probably wanted a comment about my — Mitth'raw'nuruodo's — involvement.
"No one is immune to mistakes," I said diplomatically. "At least we have additional confirmation of how Tyber Zann managed to board the Eclipse and get his hands on its resources."
"Not to mention that Silri directly mentioned his plan to dismantle the Empire," Mara reminded us. "Including the cloning."
"From which we can conclude that she knew about the cloning on Smarck before she fled the Zann Consortium," Mara drummed her fingernails on her arm. "Well, now there's no doubt that by setting a trap on Cartao, she intended to completely destroy our cloning cylinders that were captured on Smarck."
Did anyone have any doubts about Silri's intentions when she sent Drashi to us?
No.
The Spaarti cloning cylinder design is meant for maximum efficiency in a cluster.
Simple logical calculation.
"It rather proves that she had — or currently has — spies inside the Zann Consortium." And that was the right conclusion.
Straight from Lieutenant Colonel Tierce.
"Correct," I agreed.
The capture of Smarck leading us to Cartao, where we found 'cloning cylinders with explosives,' was far too 'timely.'
"However, I have a question," Pellaeon voiced. "Silri confirmed what we already learned during our past conflict with the Zann Consortium: they use the Empire's technical shortcomings. Things that never went into production, deemed unfinished. So why does Zann still use outdated and frankly ineffective ships against us? Obviously, after acquiring the data capsules from the first Death Star's destruction, he started forming his initial fleet. But operational experience proved the uselessness of his Aggressors, his Vengeances..."
"Ease of construction," I explained. "These ship types don't require large financial or other investments. Except for the cloaking devices, of course. This is primarily due to the limited number of shipyards capable of producing such starships. Among the territories Zann controls, there are only a handful."
"Zann was in a hurry to rebuild his Consortium and built whatever was simpler," Mara repeated my own words. "And Silri, as I see it, took a different path."
"The Keldabe-class battleship, the Crusader-class frigate — improved and refined, stripped of flashy but ineffective weapons," I commented. "This shows she has more than just Rothana under her command. Not just production capabilities that rival the best modern shipyards. But also a team of skilled shipbuilders, or at least engineers, who were able to learn from past combat experience. They selected the most optimal designs and improved them."
"It's strange Zann didn't do the same," Pellaeon shook his head. "I understand he wanted to rebuild the organization, but... Everyone thought he was dead. Why the rush? The galaxy is in chaos — build your secret army at your leisure."
"There are several reasons for that," I explained. "Zann knew Silri hadn't betrayed him for nothing. He also realized that Rothana and Kamino had slipped from his control. The conclusions were more than obvious. He couldn't just take back what was his. But he also understood that he would soon have to reclaim control of his criminal empire through bloodshed. He had the forces of the Corporate Sector, but that wasn't enough. By the time of the conflict, Silri would have had an army of clones. So he only made minimal changes to the designs — he added cloaking devices to the Aggressors. For a first strike against an unprepared enemy, it would work extremely effectively."
"It didn't work with us," Pellaeon noted.
"Rear Admiral I-Gor and his flotilla would disagree," I countered, glancing at the Guardian's commander.
"Since the Silri Syndicate remained in the shadows, they built their fleet slowly and with quality," I continued. "We see the main ship, the Keldabe II, which is on par with the Imperial II. We see a support ship, the Crusader II, which can easily act as a scout, pursuer, or protector. And there are the Lucrehulks, which she's building on Nimban in Hutt Space."
"The latter is clearly a military transport for her clone army," Pellaeon determined.
"And the order was given to an outside contractor because Rothana is busy building combat starships for the clone army brewing on Kamino," Grodin continued the thought.
"Exactly," I agreed.
"Wait a minute," Mara waved her hands. "The metal for building the Lucrehulks comes from the Corporate Sector. Through the Zeigerrians. If Zann knows where Silri is holed up and that she won't give up her conquests easily, why is he selling or giving her raw materials for building Lucrehulks?"
"At some point, he didn't suspect who the buyer was," I explained. "But over time, he figured out who needed such a large amount of metal and for what purpose. However, the shipments didn't stop because he considered this method of industrial espionage beneficial to his goals. By tracing the entire chain, he realized the ships would be ready soon. Tyber Zann understood perfectly well who his primary target would be in the redistribution of power in the criminal underworld. Hence his desire to gather as much strength as possible in the shortest time — he was panicking."
"So he's not panicking now?"
Jade looked at me with interest.
"Less than before," I explained. "He has Cronal. And besides, it's no accident that he's building a fist of sectors in the Tion Cluster."
"Now it's clear why Zann needed to play games with the Alliance through Lord Bonteri," Tierce nodded.
"To create a buffer zone. If Silri decides to go to war with Zann, doing it via the Perlemian Trade Route through Lianna and the Thanium Worlds would be the fastest way."
"An alternate route through the Hydian Way would cost them extra time and a potential conflict with us," Pellaeon muttered after my explanation.
"And now she's offering an alliance..." Mara said thoughtfully. "If we agree, we'll be deceived, betrayed, and used. If we refuse, we'll have a clone army loyal to Silri right on our doorstep near Kessel and Karthakk. Which, it turns out, has the forces and means to harm us. Not to mention that she has, directly or indirectly, found a way to Fey'lya or someone in his circle. It's likely her agents who obtained the information about General Solo's fleet movement from Lantilles to Lianna."
An uncomfortable silence fell over the quarters.
Each of the attendees reflected on everything that had been said.
Evaluating it from their own perspective.
Analyzing.
And comparing the two parts of Agent Bravo-Eleven's account.
That's what I was doing, at least.
Everything he saw, heard, and said before arriving on Kamino.
And what he witnessed upon arriving in the Kessel system.
An army of clones, ready Lucrehulks, a desire to destroy Tyber Zann here and now by any means necessary, talk of intentions to pit the Dominion against Silri's enemies...
There's something in all of this.
Something elusive.
Something in the style of the Dathomirian witches themselves, masterfully manipulating the Force and power to serve their goals.
Victory without the enemy being humiliated, crushed, destroyed by the realization of their own worthlessness — that's not victory.
The art of the Nightsisters teaches this.
Using the enemy's strengths against them.
Weaving intrigues that could take an entire Nightsister's lifetime and...
Oh.
So that's it.
Time.
I would have laughed if I weren't afraid of arousing suspicion among the sentients in the briefing room.
It would almost be funny if it weren't so sad.
Time.
That was the variable missing from the equation.
That's why the picture didn't come together.
"Silri doesn't have a clone army," I said.
"What do you mean, doesn't have one?" Mara Jade's eyebrows shot up. "Sergius saw tens of thousands of incubation tanks, soldiers marching in armor..."
The red-haired girl stopped short.
The threads began to weave together.
"She doesn't have a clone army," I continued. "Silri simply didn't have time to create it. And she needs our ysalamiri to finish what she started almost six years ago."
"Forgive me, sir, but don't Kaminoan clones take ten years to prepare?" Pellaeon clarified.
"Exactly," I confirmed.
"Zann gained control of the planet after the Battle of Yavin, almost ten years ago," the Guardian's commander continued. "So the clones should either be ready or about to emerge from their incubation tanks."
"Incorrect," Lieutenant Colonel Tierce said suddenly. "Unlike Spaarti cloning cylinders, which produce a fully grown clone, the Kaminoans grew their products to the newborn stage, then subjected them to accelerated growth through enhanced metabolism, after which they were plugged into training processes and selections to verify their suitability before delivery to the client."
"That very fact explains the absence of large numbers of adult clones in Tipoca City," I confirmed. "Silri doesn't have a clone army that could have been commissioned ten years ago by Tyber Zann. If the Kaminoans continue to create clones that are obedient and loyal to their masters, then that commission from ten years ago clearly could have harmed the interests of the Silri Syndicate. No one wants a repeat of Emergency Order Sixty-Six. So Silri destroyed the first-generation clones. What Tyber Zann planned to create for himself isn't suitable for Silri. For the same reasons that it's mortally dangerous for the Dominion to receive clones produced on Kamino. We don't know exactly who they'll be loyal to."
"Are you saying she orchestrated all this for our lizards?" Mara looked at the lazy specimen of the ysalamiri, which was chewing grass in its cage with a contented expression, as if approving the train of thought.
"Silri knows about the ysalamiri. She knows they can accelerate clone growth. And she's practically telling us outright that she needs our lizards for use in that kind of capacity," I said. "But not to accelerate the growth of those child clones we saw. And not even to accelerate the growth of new clones to the five-year-old level, of which she currently has many."
"Then how else can she use them?" Captain Pellaeon didn't grasp what was happening.
"Simple math, Captain," I explained. "A Spaarti cloning cylinder produces a fully combat-ready clone in one year. Three hundred sixty-five standard days."
"It takes Kamino ten years to produce a fully combat-ready clone," I continued. "But thanks to Lieutenant Colonel Tierce's valid observation, we avoided an error in interpretation. The Kaminoans don't grow a clone for ten years. They create a fast-growing human and remove it from the tube, after which it grows like a normal infant, only twice as fast."
"Then why does Silri need the ysalamiri at all?" Mara wondered. "They affect clone growth in the incubators..."
"We know that experiments in creating adult clones have already been conducted on Kamino," I said. "The ×2 that flashed on the screen, the brother of the deceased ×1, the clone of Jedi Knight Falon Grey. The clone of Galen Marek, produced on Vader's orders on Kamino... Furthermore, the pirate captured after the failed kidnapping also said that he didn't just kidnap, but also returned aristocrats and officers. Some after a few weeks. Others only after six months or roughly that timeframe."
"Forgive me, sir, but I'll express the general sentiment by saying we don't see where you're going with this," Pellaeon admitted.
He exchanged glances with the other two beforehand.
"Time," I reminded them. "Using ysalamiri, we reduced clone production time in Spaarti incubators from three hundred sixty-five days to fifteen. That means with the ysalamiri, the cloning process can accelerate twenty-four times."
"So that's what she wants," understanding of my words dawned on Lieutenant Colonel Tierce's face.
Both spoken and unspoken.
"Could you explain that for those who didn't catch the meaningful hints?" Jade asked.
Captain Pellaeon gave the girl a grateful nod for voicing his position as well.
"The Kaminoans don't create fully grown clones in their incubators because that would mean occupying the cloning cylinders for ten years," I explained. "Plus the preparation time is also considerable. In total, the client would receive their products not in five years, but say, fifteen. Too much cost. They cloned one batch, got infant clones, then moved on to raising them using normal methods of educating sentient species. Meanwhile, other clones were already taking their places in the incubators."
"Two hundred thousand units are ready, and a million more are on the way," Lama Su's words to Obi-Wan Kenobi in the second episode of the prequel trilogy came to my mind.
Literally on the way.
A human child matures in ten months.
With a twice-accelerated metabolism, that period is reduced to four and a half.
And after roughly five months, production of the second batch of clones could begin.
And another five months after that, another batch.
And so on.
Over ten years.
That's why the Grand Army of the Republic received reinforcements from Kamino throughout the entire Clone Wars!
Because starting from thirty-two years before the Battle of Yavin, the Kaminoans commissioned new batches of clones every six months.
And every six months, they received a new group of troops.
The Kaminoan Uprising, which caused the cessation of clone production for the Empire, occurred twelve years before the Battle of Yavin.
And after that, Jango Fett's clones, as well as other human copies on Kamino, were no longer produced.
Because the Empire began winding down the cloning program almost immediately after the Clone Wars ended.
Why spend billions (if not more) of credits on building a clone army if your recruitment stations are bursting with volunteers, and a galaxy-wide conscription campaign could put trillions of soldiers under arms overnight?
Comparative analysis shows that a stormtrooper trained in six months is little inferior to a Kaminoan clone produced over ten years.
And if there's no big difference, then why pay more, wait longer?
Given that the cloning of Jango Fett began thirty-two years before the Battle of Yavin and ended twelve years before, we get a time frame of twenty years.
Twenty years!
In that time, trillions of clones could have been produced — but most of them died in combat.
And the fallen were replaced by new ones, again and again.
If the Kaminoans had kept their clones in incubators for ten years, and then also trained them for, say, another five, the Grand Army of the Republic would have been crushed by the CIS droid armada.
After all, in its heyday, the Separatists produced their mechanical battle droids in truly obscene numbers.
And one could only wonder why the Republic didn't lose immediately, with its limited military contingent and such a long production time for a single clone.
In my time, there was an opinion that this happened because Palpatine was playing both sides and didn't let the CIS win, manipulating the Separatists through Count Dooku.
But that's only half the truth.
If the Republic had had problems with its source of army replenishment, if the time investment for clone production were so great, even the dumbest Separatist would have asked Dooku: "Why, when we have trillions of battle droids, can't we defeat the Republic, which has billions of clones? Maybe our count doesn't want us to win?"
At the same time, I'd assume that with hundreds of factories producing battle droids, the "trillions of droids" figure for the CIS was highly approximate.
It would be more accurate to speak of the droid army's size on a much larger scale.
The New Republic won because it had a regular supply of clones.
That's why Jedi were on Kamino, overseeing the training of soldiers throughout the entire Clone Wars.
Their "graduation" happened regularly!
Roughly every six months.
"Since they created fully grown clones of Galen Marek, Vader's apprentice, in decidedly less than ten years," Mara said, "that means their donor memory implantation technology works. And the procedure for cloning an adult soldier is reduced to roughly a year."
"Yes," I agreed. "But the clones would be unstable in that case. However, I'd venture that this is exactly the technology Tyber Zann was interested in. And also — tested it on some of his clones to replace kidnapped influential figures. But, knowing about the ysalamiri, which he used several years ago in the Zann Consortium's forces, he surely applied the lizards for the same purpose we did — to accelerate clone creation."
"A clone that can be grown in a Kaminoan incubator, the most advanced available at this time, in less than ten years; a state-of-the-art training system that makes the clone sufficiently competent after its 'birth,'" Tierce listed. "And ysalamiri that can accelerate the cloning process twenty-four times..."
Another silence fell.
"Reduce ten standard years by twenty-four times," Mara whispered. "That comes out to one hundred fifty-two days..."
The girl fell silent, but from her widened eyes, it was clear she was impressed.
"Or just over four standard months," I simplified the calculation. "A few weeks for preparation, practicing the necessary skills from the memories... And then, after the proverbial six months, the clone can be returned to the original's place."
"Moreover, unlike Spaarti, Kaminoan incubators can grow clones of any race," Pellaeon added.
"Exactly," I agreed. "Which leads us to the conclusion that any — and I repeat, absolutely any — representative of authority who is not of the human race, in any corner of the galaxy, could be a clone. Programmed to do what its master requires."
And it no longer matters exactly whom he serves: the "Zann Consortium" or the "Silri Syndicate."
It's enough that he doesn't serve us.
And that is a very big problem.
I'd even say — a gigantic one.