Alexander felt his entire body aching.
So he didn't even try to rise from the command chair on the bridge of the Inexorable.
He sat there, staring ahead, as if trying to hypnotize a single marker on the tactical hologram before him.
But the dot didn't move.
Discounting, of course, the stellar wind that was drifting the motionless shuttle to the side.
An outdated Lambda, resurrected on Grand Admiral Thrawn's orders from among the ships on Kessel.
Well, at least this scrap metal that Alexander's techs had rejected was good for something.
After stripping all the valuable spare parts and equipment from the machine, of course, and placing them in storage.
It was assumed that these shuttles, landing craft, and freighters would eventually be used as training targets for pilot drills.
So they wouldn't get complacent and forget which end of the controls to approach.
But Thrawn demanded that one of these ships be restored and sent to coordinates he provided personally.
For what purpose — naturally, he didn't say.
But from the transmitted instructions, it was clear that this was hardly a routine assignment like guarding Kessel.
"The ship is an indicator. Intelligent beings are supposed to arrive at the meeting point. I want to know who. Your task is to observe. From ambush. You will receive the signal to intervene."
Judging by how little time the specialists from the Guardian spent on the shuttle before the droid pilot brought it to the designated point, the operational setup wasn't all that complicated to execute.
And to be perfectly honest, they simply sat a B-1 droid in the pilot's seat.
As Alexander was informed, only an information chip was loaded onto the shuttle.
The coordinates, which led to an interstellar void, were also taken from that device.
What Thrawn hoped to achieve, other than tracking the ships that would show up at the meeting point, was unclear.
But that didn't mean the order could be ignored.
Nor the placement of buzz droids on the shuttle, which it released after arriving on site and dropping back into realspace.
The droids would activate as soon as their sensitive sensors detected the arrival of an alien ship.
This addition — the buzz droids of the "Morrt" project — was "seasoning" added to the plan by Mor himself.
As was the Interdictor-class Star Destroyer, also lying in ambush along with the Inexorable.
Literally a thousand units from where the Lambda was positioned.
The best scanner in the galaxy can detect objects within a radius of two hundred units.
No optical instrument will spot two destroyers at a distance five times greater than the range of sensitive instruments.
Trust in the beacons, but don't slack off yourself.
Since Thrawn intends to track those who come for the ship, backup is needed.
An absolutely empty starship can be easily scanned, showing there's not a single living soul on board.
If the unknowns expect a contact person who isn't on the shuttle, the bait might not work.
And if that's the case, the tracking idea isn't viable either.
Alexander had done everything to carry out the assignment with maximum efficiency.
But he couldn't influence the enemy, couldn't speed up their arrival — that was beyond his power.
Mor didn't even know who exactly he was tracking.
All that remained was to wait.
And hope that this whole undertaking wasn't a waste of time.
Whoever you are, whoever is supposed to fly here — you need to do it as quickly as possible.
Because patience is starting to run out...
* * *
After the shipbuilder Zion left the conference room, a brief silence fell.
"I won't say he's wrong," Grand Moff Ferrus broke the silence. "We really do need to unify the existing ships and get rid of the excess. That will reduce maintenance and support costs for such a huge fleet of ships and equipment. The budget, as I've said, isn't bottomless."
"That's obvious enough," Vice Admiral Pellaeon agreed. "But at the same time, we can't just drop all the ship types currently in service overnight. For example, let me remind you that at the moment only a third of our Star Destroyers in the regular fleet are accompanied by Crusader-IIs as escort and screening vessels. The rest are Corellian CR90 corvettes and DP20 frigates. If we get rid of the Corellians now, a significant portion of our main ships will be left without attached forces."
"Again — if we get the Fo-F'eans technicians at our disposal, that will increase the workforce at the shipyards and slipways producing Crusader-IIs for us," Ferrus reminded. "Which means the number of ships of that type produced will increase..."
"Optimistic forecasts," I said, glancing at the head of the DSB. "Colonel Astarion, what are your thoughts?"
"Very simple considerations," the counter-intelligence officer replied without a second's hesitation. "There's talk that we'll get new technicians, and the problem will be solved. But there's a time factor. How long will it take to find people willing to work at our shipyards? While we and the Jensaarai screen them, ensure their loyalty..."
"I recall you were saying just recently that they're loyal to us," the vice-admiral frowned.
"In every herd of bantha, there's a sick and willful individual," Astarion didn't mince words. "We've only recently begun working with them. And we know the race only from general data. No one — myself included — can guarantee that there isn't a single enemy spy or radical among them who would infiltrate a technical crew to cause sabotage."
"Yes, that's clear," Gilad Pellaeon grimaced. "But we need to speed up these processes somehow."
"No problem," Astarion snorted. "I'll just pull my specialists from your ships' crews and send them to work on Fo F'e. If you agree, that would significantly speed up the vetting of candidates from among our new allies."
"That won't be necessary," I interjected. "The incident with Captain Bren clearly demonstrated that having mixed crews onboard — 'originals,' clones, and former 'militia' can lead to unforeseen situations. Recalling security service personnel from ships would signal to the crews that certain relaxations in discipline are allowed."
"I fully agree," the vice-admiral said. "The crew schedules have been set, and the crews have just gotten used to having the security service back on board. It would be unwise to recall them..."
"In that case, we either need to clone more counter-intelligence officers, or wait for the existing personnel to complete their assigned task," Astarion concluded. "New territories are being annexed rapidly. I've exhausted all reserves I had for creating territorial DSB units. I've even mobilized staff from the Central Apparatus."
"In other words, you simply don't have the required number of subordinates," I concluded.
"That position has been unchanged for a long time, sir," Astarion replied succinctly. "We barely reached half the authorized strength by the start of this year. By the start of the counteroffensive, we finished their training. Now they're all deployed to field work. Where there should be, say, five operatives, I have one in action. There's no question of operational efficiency. I'm not even going to talk about recalling existing units from strategically important facilities like shipyards, slipways, workshops, fortress worlds, defensive stations, Perimeter hub stations, and so on — recalling them would be equivalent to redistributing personnel from ships and active Armed Forces units."
"Lieutenant Colonel Tierce," I addressed my adjutant. "Since we've decided to cease clone production for the needs of repair enterprises and shipyards, the freed-up cloning cylinder capacity should be redistributed to the DSB."
"It will be done, sir," Tierce replied.
Astarion breathed a sigh of relief.
"But not in full," I continued my thought. "The colonel pointed out that he needs time to recruit the necessary personnel from Fo F'e. We cannot afford downtime of our own facilities. We need a compromise solution. Therefore — half of the freed-up cloning cylinder capacity will go toward increasing counter-intelligence personnel, and the other half toward recreating specialists for the shipyards. The latter, obviously, from the orbital docks currently in mothballs that are part of the Dominion's secret repair facilities."
Where, of course, without additional screening we send no one except clones.
I'm talking about the captured orbital docks from Sluis Van.
Currently only ten of them are operational.
Five in the Karthakk system.
An equal number in the central sectors of the Dominion's core territories, carrying out modernization of our Star Destroyers that are also in mothballs.
Yes, only the deaf and blind don't know that we got a huge number of ships and orbital docks as spoils after the Battle of Sluis Van, but their location and operational specifics are a state secret.
"Thus we can both support the DSB's work and not reduce the pace at the orbital docks," Astarion said with understanding. "Yes, that will help us. But the work with the Fo-F'eans still won't be swift."
It wouldn't be swift anyway — even if we gave all the "free" cloning cylinders to counter-intelligence.
Time is the main currency, and we don't have that much of it, really.
"If Zion's assumption is correct, and with the new technologies from Fo F'e we can modernize the Imperials in just a month, then the question arises — why not subject all currently fully crewed starships to such changes?" Captain Pellaeon said quietly.
"That would pull our main forces out of active operations for a whole month," the original Pellaeon immediately responded. "We just discussed that before Zion left 'to rest.'"
"But it's beneficial in the long run," the clone Pellaeon insisted. "Not tactical, but strategic fleet development."
"For a month, the ships would be tied to the shipyards," the original Pellaeon continued to insist. "I cannot allow anything like that!"
"And yet there is a rational grain in Captain Pellaeon's words," I concluded, having heard both positions and assessed their prospects. "How many uncrewed Imperial-class starships upgraded to Mark III do we currently have?"
"About fifty," Pellaeon replied without hesitation. "But those are 'old' Mark IIIs, without launch tubes."
"And with skeleton crews of droids," Colonel Astarion joined in.
"At present, we have about a hundred fully combat-ready Imperial-class Star Destroyers of all three types," I continued calmly. "That's roughly two hundred to three hundred thousand crew members. Several of these ships sustained damage in battle and require serious repairs. Which can be combined with modernization under the updated project."
This was discussed before, and we used a similar "policy" when the Mark III project first appeared.
But it wouldn't hurt to remind the gentlemen officers what priorities guide us.
"I've studied this new project in detail, sir," Vice Admiral Pellaeon took the floor. "Zion has essentially squeezed the maximum out of the Imperial. We can't add any more weapons or further automation into it. The new project, the updated Mark III — that's the final stage in this ship type's development. Consequently, if the enemy invents new countermeasures based on battles with our upgraded ships, we'll have nothing to match them."
"You speak as if you want to keep our Mark IIIs in the rear," Astarion perked up. "So to speak, 'for a rainy day.'"
"That is exactly what I am proposing now," Pellaeon said with emphasis in his voice. "We've already shown the enemy our Victory-III-class. We got Republic-class destroyers and MC90 battle cruisers in return. Unlike us, the enemy — both the New Republic and the Alliance — have more than one shipbuilder in reserve. And more shipyards than we do. While we're busy modernizing our ships and straining our shipyards, workshops, and orbital docks to upgrade our Imperials to the updated Mark IIIs, the enemy will develop a new type of ship. And produce them on a much larger scale."
A fairly typical "arms race."
Every state understands that its survival depends first and foremost on the quality of its weaponry.
Therefore, new projects will be created regardless.
The only issue is whether they will be the logical evolutionary result of the enemy's own shipbuilders' independent thinking, or the fruit of revolutionary observations of our technology in action.
"From what I've studied about the latest enemy main starships, the updated Mark IIIs will surpass them," Ferrus said, as if speaking to no one in particular. "Well, and considering what was said to Zion, I think we should stop calling the Mark IIIs 'Imperials.' We need a Dominion designation."
"Let's leave that until the prototype project is ready and has been reviewed by a technical commission," the original Pellaeon said, quickly glancing at me and then looking away.
I hope he doesn't think I don't know that the Chimaera and the Stormhawk became that "prototype."
And the former is already in the final stages of modernization — Captain Tschel understands perfectly that after its raids, the Guardian will go in for repairs, and I'll need a new flagship.
Since the Fellblade remained as an invisible guardian in the Kessel system, there aren't that many options.
And, I must say, Tschel is thinking correctly.
The first to test the "old" Mark IIIs was Dorja.
And he's not just a competent military man, but also a perfectly competent technical specialist.
If Dorja found the Mark III satisfactory, then such a ship type won't be "beneath me" either.
"And it is ready," Astarion chuckled. "Don't underestimate our shipbuilder. As soon as Reder delivered the technology samples — which, for the record, were intended for the Zann Consortium — Zion studied them all. Both blueprints and devices. Making the necessary adjustments isn't the biggest problem for him. My sources report that the project isn't just ready — in a few weeks the Chimaera will be fully combat-ready and finish all trials. Captain Tschel, as you may know, hasn't wasted time. His technical services have been preparing the ship for modernization for quite a while. All they need is to reconfigure the interior compartments."
"And since, according to Zion, that isn't required, the repair time is shortened," Ferrus continued.
"Not by much," Astarion dampened his enthusiasm. "They'll need to install the launch tubes. Some systems are already partially automated. As I recall, Vice Admiral Pellaeon, you ordered that, by reducing part of the Chimaera's crew, you would reassign them to crew the Stormhawk and some other ships. Isn't that so?"
"So you're even monitoring my orders, Colonel," Pellaeon squinted, glaring at his fellow Triumvir with a withering look.
"Stop," I demanded in a matter-of-fact tone.
No need to explain that such behavior is unacceptable for the Dominion's official top leadership.
These people are in their positions primarily due to their intelligence and talents.
Still, the situation is quite telling.
"Colonel Astarion is doing his job," I reminded. "Including monitoring activity within the state. There's nothing to be irritated about here, Vice Admiral."
"Yes, sir," Gilad Pellaeon's voice had hints of resentment. "I just don't like it when someone looks over my shoulder without my knowing. Forgive my emotional outburst, sir. It won't happen again."
Well, we'll see.
It's clear that Pellaeon feels uncomfortable in stressful situations when he's authorized to make decisions alone.
When commanding the Chimaera, he relied on me as well.
Acting independently, within the scope of his authority, he becomes an irritable grumbler.
It was obvious that the volume of work as Chief of Staff, coordinating a large number of campaigns, was not comfortable for him.
I'll keep that in mind.
Without the HoloNet, he has to shoulder all military decisions himself, while most of the fleet doesn't know where I am or how to contact me.
So the breakdown in communication forces Gilad to handle some of my functions as well.
An obvious miscalculation on my part.
One could put it that way.
I, however, prefer to see this as a stress test for the Vice Admiral.
I need to know that he can manage affairs without my guidance.
Until now, I was confident that he was managing.
The quality of the work isn't reduced, but at the same time, it takes a toll on his emotional state and general irritability.
A situation similar to what Zion is going through.
While Felix Ferrus eased into managing the Dominion gradually, with each territorial expansion of the state sector by sector, everything fell on Pellaeon all at once.
And not just military command, but foreign policy too.
Every treaty, every shipment, every negotiation — it all goes through him and is resolved by him personally.
A pity, but we have no other option at the moment.
The intensity of the Dominion's actions must accelerate the resolution of the situation with Palpatine.
And then we can "come alive" again and delegate only his specialized tasks back to him.
But not now.
"In that case, we will again use the compromise option," I said. "Colonel Astarion. Do you know how much time is needed to refit the current state of the 'Threes' to the updated design?"
"If we're talking about a complete replacement of technologies and all systems from 'foreign' to 'ours,' then quite a long time — no less than two standard months," the counter-intelligence officer replied without hesitation. "If we're talking about retrofitting with the missing equipment, then one week. These timelines have also been calculated by the project's author."
Judging by the fact that he's relying on specific data and the position of the shipbuilder Zion (yes, it would have been better to ask him personally, but he's not with us right now, and calling him back would be unreasonable), the information is quite plausible.
A time buffer should, of course, be accounted for.
But I don't think it will be critically significant.
"So, we have several time expenditures," I summarized. "To convert the 'Imperials' of the first and second modifications to 'modern Threes' let's keep calling them that for now — we need a month. To convert the 'old' ones to 'new' ones with a complete system replacement — no less than two standard months. For retrofitting the 'old' ones to the level of the 'new' ones — one standard week."
"Provided that all the components are available in the warehouses," added Vice Admiral Pellaeon.
"Do we have any problems with the inventory levels at our shipyards and repair slips?" I asked my deputy.
"No, sir," he stated. "But, I repeat, even a month, in the current reality, is too long. We can't just pull all our combat-capable military ships from the regular fleet away from their combat missions just to make them better."
He was tired.
"In that case, we will first focus on modernizing the 'old' 'Threes' to the level of the 'new' ones," I announced. "After that, we return them to combat duty. As of now, do we have combat-capable 'Ones' and 'Twos' in the territory of the captured sectors?"
"Yes, sir," Pellaeon confirmed.
"Then let them continue their service," I concluded. "To start, we bring the upgraded 'Threes' into service through conversion. The fully-equipped ships are returned to the front lines. Then, we begin the modernization of our 'Ones' and 'Twos' that were seriously damaged in the current campaign. By reducing the crews during modernization, we reassign the freed-up crews to the modernized 'new' 'Threes.' By following this algorithm, we will achieve a qualitative upgrade and expansion of the combat-capable Star Destroyer fleet before the second phase of the operation."
Judging by the way Pellaeon's eyebrow shot up, Ferrus frowned, and Astarion slightly narrowed his eyes, not one of the Triumvirate understood that the cleansing and subjugation of sectors along the Dominion's borders on the Hydian Way was not the ultimate goal of the counter-offensive against the Zann Consortium's satellites.
"In the second phase, we will subjugate the sectors located between our new borders and up to the Perlemian Trade Route, with an exit to the Tion Cluster," I explained. "The southern border of the Dominion's territory should be the sectors located along the Salin Corridor and adjacent to these hyperspace routes. We have outposts there for expanding the operation. These are the Msst, Allied Tion, Vyl, and Thanium Worlds sectors."
The widened eyes of Vice Admiral Pellaeon and the surprised look of his clone made me understand that they had only just realized the reason we got involved in the operations on these fronts.
"During the downtime of our ships, the creation of bases in the Aparo and Vyl sectors for replenishing minefields on the Hydian Way and all hyperspace routes leading from the Corporate Sector should be completed," I continued.
"Yes, sir," Gilad acknowledged.
"Sir, permission to note that we do not know when the Intergalactic Communications Center will resume its work," Astarion warned.
"The more we expand the Dominion's borders, the more resources are needed to hold them," Grand Moff Ferrus chimed in. "Providing such territory with the Perimeter system is an enormous expense. But even greater is the time investment required to ensure their security."
"By the time we need to worry about securing the territories of the second phase, we will already have in service all the destroyers that we are capable of modernizing to the maximum possible level," I said in a tone that brooked no argument.
"Sir, am I correct in understanding that two to four months were allocated for the capture of these territories?" Vice Admiral Pellaeon inquired cautiously, practically devouring me with his eyes.
"To be completely precise, we must finish this operation by the end of the seventh month of the current year," I explained. "And no, Colonel Astarion, the HoloNet will not become operational until we finish conquering the sectors allocated for the second phase. Or, in the event of a change in the operational situation — until it is decided to allow the HoloNet to do so."
"I understand, sir," the Dominion's chief counter-intelligence officer blinked, "but allow me to ask — how will this be implemented?"
"Through the efforts of our intelligence," I explained. "Any attempt to restore the HoloNet will be suppressed."
How exactly — no explanation is needed.
Everyone present is a grown-up and perfectly understands what is at stake in such a situation.
"Sir, if we intend to subjugate all the territories along the Salin Corridor and those adjacent to it, does that mean we will accept the still-pending proposal from Moff Getelles of the Antimeridian sector for an alliance?" Vice Admiral Pellaeon clarified. "It is Antimeridian that is located at the westernmost point of the Salin Corridor. Not directly on it, but in close proximity to the Vorzyd and Niuri sectors. The Meridian and Antimeridian sectors… they adjoin the Perlemian Route in that region and partially cross it."
"Yes, we will have to deal with Getelles," I confirmed. "But not within the framework of an alliance."
"War?" Ferrus clarified. "Getelles's Remnant is an ally of Imperial Space."
"Furthermore, some of the territories you intend to capture were part of the Greater Maldrood," Astarion said. "And, as we now know, the Teradocs were not destroyed; the information about their defeat is Republic disinformation. The Teradocs, in their Union, still have planets in the part of the galaxy that interests us."
"And where there are Teradocs, there is Palpatine," Vice Admiral Pellaeon stated in a warning tone. "If we conquer the sectors they claim, firstly, it will expose our activities in this region, and secondly, it could provoke Palpatine to act prematurely."
As if I don't understand that.
"Gentlemen," I addressed those present. "We are waging a war, not engaging in an exercise to be convenient for everyone in the galaxy who wears an Imperial uniform. We have the means to subjugate worlds and draw borders convenient for us. Look at the map," Tierce, at my instruction, displayed a hologram of the Tion Cluster. "Effectively, we control the Allied Tion and the Thanium Worlds. But in key areas. Once we finish the cleanup in those regions, we can talk about a threat to the enemy's logistical supply. The subjugation of Lianna will allow us to completely sever the Alliance's supply lines along the Perlemian Trade Route."
Which only means that we will instantly attract attention.
And that the Alliance will do everything in its power to break through such a logistical blockade.
Using the Imperial Remnants as an example, they are already observing the consequences of what happens when the Dominion captures important (admittedly, so far only regional) hyperlanes and blocks access to them.
The Imperials' attempts to ignore our warnings about border closures and isolation led to the loss of more than one transport ship from Imperial Space.
Kaine alone was not at a loss — his convoys went through the Dominion as before.
Only the ships' navigation computers were under the control of our patrols.
But that is in the past.
With the death of the Grand Moff, the tacit agreements also irrevocably became a thing of the past.
However, this specific approach allows us to eventually extend it entirely to the territory of the Dominion.
So the experiment with ensuring Kaine's supplies fully justified itself.
This tactic was devised long ago, but no one had used it on such a scale until now.
The transports reach a control point at the borders with the Dominion.
After that, their navigation computers are subordinated to the convoy commander, who then leads them, as if on a leash, through our state's territory.
Any attempts to break formation and "drop out" of hyperspace are doomed to failure: the tracking stations and interdiction posts are located inside the Dominion in anything but a random order.
But, to Kaine's credit, he never used such a dirty trick, which could be used to smuggle spies right into the Dominion, whose borders cannot be crossed without the authorities' knowledge.
And dropping anything — from saboteurs to spy droids — from ships during a hyperspace jump is completely pointless.
The Empire spent decades developing a way to detach a part of a ship in hyperspace without destructive consequences.
Any object — ship, mine, buoy, droid — is destroyed by the ruthless physics of hyperspace.
How and why — that's a billion-credit question.
No matter how much the local astrophysicists try to prove otherwise, embarrassingly little is known about hyperspace.
If modern hyperdrive technology didn't work on barely the same principle, gleaned from the technologies of ancient races like the Rakata, interstellar travel at FTL speeds would have remained a mystery for much longer.
"It should have been captured immediately," Grand Moff Ferrus blurted out. "Relocating the enterprises from Lianna cost us far more time and resources than its occupation would have required."
Yes, but the point of such a gambit was not at all to capture the planet.
It was to acquire its industry in the part that interested us, and then obtain permission to produce it without any coordination from the management of the Santhe Technologies company.
And we did it.
While avoiding major problems.
"In that case, we would have attracted unwanted attention from Imperial Space and Palpatine," I objected. "A direct occupation of a pro-Imperial world would not have come easily to us."
"Furthermore," Astarion was studying the map with undisguised interest, "at the time when the Lusankya was executing its gambit, the situation with the Allied Tion and the other sectors of the Tion Cluster was unclear. Now, however, we can, without any fear of anyone's reaction, advance our campaign inside the Cluster with forces that are supposedly loyal solely to the heir of Moff Gronn."
"I wouldn't say that Imperial Space and the other Remnants 'easily' accepted the fact of the seizure of the Santhe Technologies production facilities from Lianna," said the Grand Moff. "As soon as it happened, they were hardly eager to sign contracts with us for the supply of TIE-series aircraft when they realized that Santhe no longer controlled that technology. And the reaction was even worse than after we captured the Sluissi Hegemony. When the Imperials discovered that we would be fulfilling the remainder of the equipment supply contracts, they were clearly not happy with that outcome."
"Seconded," agreed Vice Admiral Pellaeon. "At the moment, even though the Imperials buy TIE fighters and bombers of the same series from us as the sole supplier of such technology, they do so extremely reluctantly. Every deal — whether for the supply of a hundred fighters or a thousand — has to be negotiated at great length with their side. At the same time, as I already noted in my report, they do not seek to publicize their trade with us."
Well, of course.
"Because they prefer to reactivate old Sienar factories or produce the technology underground," Astarion explained.
"Or they are simply moving away from this type of fighter," suggested Grand Moff Ferrus. "But I cannot say that trading in technology we don't use ourselves is unprofitable for us. At the moment, it constitutes a tenth of our foreign economic profit. And the conversation now isn't just about TIE fighters and bombers. But also about the sale of old Republic equipment. However, I do note a decline in profitability. Primarily from the Imperial side. They have started buying less from us."
"And their losses are heavy," said Astarion. "I would even say that in the field of small craft and pilots, they are catastrophic."
"Then the reason why the Empire is reducing purchases of our small craft technology is not entirely clear," Ferrus shrugged.
"It's clear enough," Pellaeon said gloomily.
Yes, but not to those who don't negotiate with the Imperials.
"The Imperial Remnants are putting any mass-produced fighter into service," I said. "War demands a huge amount of materiel. Currently, they can only get the equipment they are used to on a large scale from us. But at the same time, such trade would lead to them strengthening our economy with their actions. Which, in turn, the already resurrected Emperor does not want. To him, we are a target. Not a primary one."
Thanks to the efforts of just one convincing woman.
"Let's return to discussing the situation inside the Dominion," I said, looking at the Grand Moff. "Do you have anything to add?"
It's not that I was opposed to discussing pressing issues with them.
But time is quite limited.
This free-form conversation allowed me to understand exactly what my subordinates are concerned about, and what their general level of knowledge of the situation is.
As well as their attitude toward trading military equipment with potential adversaries.
Unfortunately, we have already encountered groups of pirates more than once who were armed with modernized or outdated equipment — manufactured by us — from the time of the Galactic Empire or the Old Republic, which the Dominion no longer uses.
It is shot down and destroyed, of course, just like any other, even modern, equipment.
But the very fact that the weapons we sold fall into the hands of criminals and are turned against us…
In this galaxy, it is not customary to impose conditions when selling equipment.
In other words, having bought a Star Destroyer (if one could manage it), its new owner can, with a clear conscience, open fire with its onboard artillery on an enemy.
Or resell it to someone else.
On Earth, such deals have stipulations.
Which I plan to introduce in the future.
When the Palpatine problem is solved.
"In general terms, sir," Grand Moff Ferrus took the floor, "we have begun work in the new territories in full force. Forty percent of the captured sectors have already joined the Dominion on standard terms. As before — poor worlds are primarily interested in the opportunity to get out of the hole they are in. And developed ones — in markets for their goods. Nothing we haven't encountered before. Yes, our political system raises some questions, but in practice, the population traditionally doesn't care who rules them, as long as there is work, income, and bombs aren't falling on their heads."
"Understood," I looked at Astarion. "Pirates, smugglers, mercenaries, remnants of enemy forces?"
"Present in most sectors," Astarion confirmed the established practice. "We investigate each case, analyze it, and make decisions. The primary focus is on recruiting smugglers as private carriers in the new territories. The military actions in the galaxy have led to a redistribution of markets. Smugglers have been drained by bribes and 'evasive maneuvers.' They don't want to leave the expanding Dominion metropolis, but they also understand what will happen to them in the absence of cooperation. I am confident that most of them can be won over to our side."
And in doing so, we will gain, albeit a small, but nonetheless a base of carriers in the new territories who will help us establish the logistics of civilian supply for the new worlds.
Yes, we have an internal transport service.
But it, too, has its limits.
Particularly, a shortage of civilian pilots who can take on this role without being pulled away from military service.
"Good," I nodded. "The regular fleet will provide you with all necessary support in eliminating the remaining enemy forces."
"Yes, sir," replied Colonel Astarion.
"In that case, I will detain you and Grand Moff Ferrus no further," I said.
Both officers, nodding politely in farewell, rose from the table and left the conference room.
Left "alone" with Vice Admiral Pellaeon, I turned my gaze to my deputy.
"Your report will be the most extensive, Vice Admiral," I said.
"Indeed, sir," Gilad agreed.
In that case, it was time to begin the most important part of the meeting in the current situation.
* * *
The twenty-four hours he had been observing the shuttle were running out.
Not the slightest trace of whoever — according to Thrawn's idea — was supposed to arrive here and… do something.
Well, obviously, it would be to take the shuttle.
So that, thanks to the "beacons," the ship could be tracked to its destination.
His expectations were met at the moment when Alexander had already begun to think that he was wasting his time here in vain.
"Sir," he heard the excited voice of the watch officer, "we have a contact on the scanners. Another ship has appeared next to the shuttle!"
Drowsiness and apathy almost instantly fell away from the face and body of the commander of the Implacable.
"Here's where the fun begins," he grinned. "Put the scanner data from the shuttle on the terminal."
A few seconds later, an image of the solitary Lambda appeared on the nearest projector device, with another starship located next to it (relatively speaking, of course).
"How interesting," Alexander squinted, studying the ship that had arrived at the rendezvous point.
Oh, yes, he was already familiar with this type of ship.
He had even fought them.
Not so long ago — on Kessel.
And no, it's not a pirate vessel.
Nor even an Alliance starship.
"And not a Crusader II-class corvette," voiced his thoughts the watch officer, who had approached.
"How interesting," Alexander repeated, watching as the hulk (compared to the shuttle) approached the lone Lambda. "Contact the droid in the shuttle. I want to know… No, cancel that."
That would be a direct violation of orders.
And besides, it would reveal his position.
There is a better option.
"We'll wait for the buzz droids to activate," Alexander decided.
Their short dispatches, like fragments of signals, would clarify the overall situation.
"The buzz droids report that the corvette is attempting to establish communication with the shuttle."
Identification procedure.
Yes, Alexander suspected this might happen.
That's why he decided to play it safe.
He had held out too long on Kessel, racking his brain in tactical battles against the commanders of other ships and central computers, to let even a little slip.
After all, he was now executing one of his tactics about which he had lectured at the Fleet Academy.
"The bait leading into the trap."
He wouldn't escape.
Not today.
"The buzz droids are requesting instructions…"
Yes, the stupid brains, now having made contact with a communication source bearing the Dominion transponder, would be demanding instructions.
And only if he stayed silent would they revert to their basic program, which is exactly what he needed now.
"Ignore the buzz droids."
The shuttle is more important.
If the droid in its cockpit opened its mouth, they would understand everything.
"The enemy is scanning the shuttle. The droids are requesting instructions again…"
"Ignore. No, stop."
The shuttle, which had until now remained stationary, was beginning its run-up for a jump into hyperspace!
Apparently, it was about to start…
Thankfully, the crew on that ship isn't brimming with intelligence — they are moving on the same course as the shuttle.
Meaning they are passing through an area filled with buzz droids.
Excellent.
Stupidity is not forgiven.
"Order to the buzz droids — attach to the corvette!"
Let them chase it for a while.
Let them show what they have.
The order to the buzz droids will not go unnoticed.
But now it's too late.
If you've engaged in a fight, fight.
"A long-range transmission has been detected from the Crusader!"
Oh.
So, it turns out there is either another starship or a relay satellite out here.
Judging by everything — the former.
Because the latter would be too stupid.
Relays always leave too many "traces" of data transmission.
And, judging by whoever came here, they clearly don't want to "expose" their presence and communication data.
Speaking of which.
"Decryption?"
"Working on it… Yes, got it!" came from the crypto center. "It's a request for orders. They're reporting that they aren't getting a response to their data exchange."
Just as he thought — they are merely messengers.
Whoever is running this whole show is probably on the other end of this message exchange.
"Sir, should we contact the Interdictor?" asked the watch officer, equally mesmerized by the arriving ship.
"Not yet. We observe. We don't make any extra moves without my order. Understood, Lieutenant?"
The watch officer looked at his commander in confusion, but still replied:
"Understood, sir. It's just..."
"Just that we're lying in ambush and should jump on the first comer who approached the shuttle?" Mor clarified, his eyes fixed on the Crusader II.
It seemed intent on docking with the Lambda.
Which was understandable.
More precisely — for now it was just a guess.
Now there was a chance to test it in practice.
"The crew assumed our mission was combat," the watch officer stated with disappointment in his voice. "After so many weeks spent on Kessel... I'd like to 'stretch my legs.'"
Nothing unusual (nor ordinary, for that matter) was happening, so Alexander turned his head toward his subordinate.
"Didn't you get enough of a final battle to 'stretch your legs'?"
"The Guardian and the Venators did almost all the work for us," the lieutenant replied with complete seriousness. "We feel like we've been assigned as guards for this 'vegetable.' Against our will."
Mor's subordinates called Kessel a "vegetable" among themselves.
For its textured appearance, of course.
"Did you calculate the transmission vector?" Alexander asked.
"Yes, sir," the technician replied. "Three parsecs from us. Coordinates..."
Pretty powerful communication system they had, he had to say.
Or rather, let's be frank — Imperial.
"Relay that to the navigators," Alexander said, licking his lips. "Ours and the Interdictor's."
"Yes, sir."
An ominous silence fell over the command center, broken only by the sounds of sensors and scanners, and the technician's report about the Crusader closing with the Dominion shuttle.
"Detecting another long-range transmission!"
"From the Crusader?" Alexander asked in surprise.
Who else was he reporting to besides command?
"No, sir. The transmission was addressed to it."
"I see. Can you decrypt it?"
"Unknown encoding. Decryptor failed. We're working on it manually," came the report from the encryption bay.
Bad, bad, bad.
The silence grew darker until everyone was startled by the prolonged wail of the danger warning system.
The operator at the console looked up:
"Sir, they've opened fire on the shuttle!"
"Are they trying to damage it?" Alexander clarified.
"Destroy it!"
Well, now it was clear what answer they'd received.
"The droid is maneuvering, but the ship won't last long," the watch officer warned him.
"Order the Interdictor to move to the updated coordinates! Block all communications the moment they exit hyperspace. Not a single bantha poodoo gets to bleat on the airwaves!" Alexander ordered. "We jump right after them. Ready the destroyer's systems for battle! Jump as soon as we receive the gravity-trawl deployment vector."
Well, that was it.
Thrawn's plan hadn't been good enough.
No one had even tried to inspect the shuttle.
They contacted it via comms.
Got no answer.
Because they needed a person, not a machine!
Possibly Thrawn himself!
The droid's silence made the enemy start doubting that the right person had arrived at the rendezvous.
Obviously, they scanned it to check for life signs on board.
And after finding nothing...
No, they hadn't found any.
They shouldn't have — Alexander had ordered the shuttle's pilot to engage the main engines.
Now, during the evasive maneuvers, even better scanners couldn't scan the ship and detect the droid on board.
And now...
"It looks like they intend to destroy it with their cannon fire," the watch officer glanced at Alexander. "They could have launched fighters in pursuit. Why aren't they?"
"Because there are no fighters on that ship," Alexander muttered under his breath, smiling with satisfaction.
"Sir?"
Mor, overcoming the tingling in his body, rose from his chair, swayed slightly, and stepped toward the holo-projector:
"See for yourself."
He pointed at the slowly but steadily shrinking distance between the two starships.
"We already have starships of that type," he explained. "The droid's maneuvering not only threw off their scanning, but would have forced them to launch fighters if they had any. Nobody chases a whole corvette for what a pair of small craft can do."
"If they wanted to take it intact, they definitely wouldn't have opened fire with lethal intent."
"They sensed a trap," Alexander said dryly. "Thrawn miscalculated, and now..."
A single laser beam briefly connected the shuttle and the corvette.
After that, only debris remained where the shuttle had been.
But that debris was the result of an explosion so powerful it was visible even from the Inexorable's position.
"Sir, we're receiving data from the Interdictor," the watch officer paused, trying to confirm his interpretation of the data. "Sir, there's a Keldabe-class battleship..."
"Interesting," Alexander said calmly for the umpteenth time. "We're going after them. The Interdictor's job is to hold that ship until we arrive and keep it in communication blackout. We'll handle the rest."
"Sir, but what about the corvette?" the watch officer ventured, pointing at the hologram where the damaged enemy starship was displayed.
Judging by what the buzz droids were transmitting, it had taken a significant beating.
But everything could be repaired if you knew how.
"Tell the buzz droids to disable their hyperdrives and main engines," Alexander ordered. "We'll pick them up on the way back. Since we can't track them, we'll get information from prisoners."
And he was betting not on the Crusader's crew.
They were just messengers who were supposed to take the shuttle on board and deliver it to their command.
And it was to that command that Alexander was now heading.
He needed someone who could string more than two words together.
And it seemed that someone was on the Keldabe.
The Inexorable jumped.
In a few minutes it would be in position...
"How could Thrawn have miscalculated?" the watch officer grumbled beside him. "Did he really think someone would take that ship on board and deliver it somewhere..."
"Thrawn didn't miscalculate," Alexander said sharply, grinding his teeth. "He packed that shuttle with explosives to blast to hell anyone who tried to take it. And they would have taken it — if I hadn't intervened with the buzz droids."
Probably the corvette's crew decided the shuttle was communicating with someone.
The buzz droids' transmissions and the Inexorable's response were perceived as a trap.
Which it originally was.
While Alexander was lecturing on tactics, Thrawn was implementing a strategy.
Lure the enemy into negotiations.
Hand over a rigged shuttle that would — obviously, one way or another — explode as soon as it was taken aboard an enemy ship.
And then the one who sent the corvette to the meeting would arrive at the scene.
The one who possessed more information than those idiots sent on the Crusader.
Because influential members of criminal syndicates don't personally fly to meetings on corvettes.
But on Keldabe II-class battleships — definitely.
Thrawn intended to blow up the shuttle while it was docked to the ship that came to pick it up.
Then the 'customer' would show up.
And Alexander was supposed to attack that customer.
Well, there just weren't any civilized words for this!
Why couldn't he have said so right away?
"Arrival in ten seconds!"
"Prepare for battle," Alexander said. "Upon exit, drop the escort corvette and attack the target designated by the Interdictor."
"Sir, but communications will be unavailable while the radiation on the hull..."
"Yep," Mor snorted. "But they'll be shooting at the target. And so will we. Direct fire."