Ten years, four months, and fifteen days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or forty-five years, four months, and fifteen days after the Great Resynchronization.
(One year and thirty days since the Arrival.)
The last hyperspace jump, which began almost right up against the gravity anomaly surrounding the galaxy and ended in another equally remote yet valuable system for the Dominion, was successful.
Despite not being easy.
But the command and crew of the Forward, a Procursator-class Star Destroyer with its laconic name, were considered the best in the Dominion Defense Forces, so, glancing at the screen, Grand Moff Ferrus simply confirmed that the jump had gone perfectly.
Felix, through the transparisteel of the main viewport, cast a glance at the vast field of space debris visible against the backdrop of the expansive Chiloon Rift nebula, reflecting on how drastically the picture before him differed from what the earlier reports had indicated.
Instead of the constant danger of a meteorite striking the side of the not-insignificant (albeit "pocket") Star Destroyer — a perfectly decent and comfortable zone for exiting hyperspace, cleared of numerous space rocks.
Hundreds of tiny lights moving between the enormous and less enormous boulders were identified as mining ships, delivering cargo to asteroid mining colonies or hauling unrefined ore away from them.
The ore was delivered to the largest of the asteroids, which was about three times the size of the Forward and was the very station where the now-deceased Moff Harch had once based himself.
And what was even more interesting were the markers of three of the five Golan stations delivered here, which were already on combat duty.
And which would certainly have blown the Forward to pieces if it hadn't transmitted its identification signals in time.
"Set a course to rendezvous with the main station," Ferrus ordered, noticing out of the corner of his eye a clone approaching him — the commander of the flagship Procursator.
"Aye, sir," the man responded, heading toward the right-side pit, where a watch officer beckoned him over.
Following the ship's commander with his gaze, Ferrus's eyes landed on a woman standing by the bulkhead.
Not far from her stood several IG-100 MagnaGuard droids, armed with electrostaffs.
They were accompanied by a pair of guards in black-and-red armor.
Ferrus gestured for the woman to approach.
After a second's hesitation, she complied.
"A familiar place, Lady Freymis?" he inquired, more out of politeness than a desire for an answer.
"Are you mocking me, Grand Moff?" the Inquisitor hissed through her teeth, joining Ferrus. "Do you really want to ask me if I recognize the place where your plague killed my brother and the entire station's personnel?"
"No one asked you to attack the Dominion, Inquisitor," the Grand Moff countered diplomatically. "But I'm sure you had your reasons. Just as we had ours for stationing a fleet in orbit of Tiraggi's second moon. You see, we wanted to shield that world from contamination by random travelers..."
Freymis snorted.
"You're a fool if you think I'll fall for that," she said. "You deliberately stoked interest in that place to provoke us into striking."
"Perhaps so, Lady Freymis," Ferrus replied, and a chill ran down his spine.
Overall, the woman was right about the trap's intent, but even despite his high position in the Triumvirate, Felix had no intention of either confirming or denying what he knew.
However, this time, the Inquisitor was wrong about his intentions.
The reason she had been brought to the Chiloon Rift was extremely simple and mundane.
Unlike Asterion and Pellaeon, Ferrus had not taken the preliminary data on the Lady Inquisitor as an axiom.
Yes, by all indications, she was one of the Zann Consortium's agents, and most obviously, she served Cronal himself.
And he, in turn, was Palpatine's backup singer.
From her interrogations by Saarai-kaar, the leader of the Jensaarai who had conducted the screening with Freymis, it was concluded that the latter was solely focused on destroying the Dominion.
For Asterion, that was enough to sign the woman's death warrant.
For Pellaeon, generally speaking, as well.
The Vice Admiral was more preoccupied with the assault on Serenno, where blood was flowing like a river, and the achievements were...
Not particularly significant.
Ferrus, however, saw the bigger picture.
So far, the Dominion had failed to recruit a well-trained agent close to the enemy's leadership.
Maris Brood could have been considered a source of information about the enemy, but, as it turned out, all her knowledge of the Zann Consortium's upper echelons was limited to what the late Jared Sykes had told her.
And that was next to nothing.
Whatever he might have told her about her importance, the Zabrak remained for him merely a tool, conveniently used in various situations.
But the Lady Inquisitor was something much bigger.
The Dominion was preparing with all its might for an upcoming offensive operation — the second phase of expansion, after which it was supposed that the core territories would go into a defensive shell, and the most active combat operations would be transferred beyond the northern part of the galaxy.
At least, the offensive ones.
The Corporate Sector was a target not in the cards until the end of the current half-year.
Consequently, Thrawn would deal with it only after the second phase of the counteroffensive against the satellite sectors was complete.
And that was many weeks ahead...
And if there was even a chance to try and persuade the Lady Inquisitor to switch the side she was loyal to...
Ferrus stepped forward and stared out the starboard viewport.
From here, there was a perfect view of the Cauldron.
The Imperial hung motionless, currently serving as a guard ship.
No attempts had been made to move it to a more suitable location for eventual incorporation into the active fleet (not just on paper, but in fact).
Its crew, like that of most starships currently being modernized or completed, consisted of just one full watch, staffed with sentients — both humans and representatives of other races, not to mention clones.
The other two watches were B-1 battle droids, performing only general functions so as not to overload the limited organic crew.
Which, along with a considerable number of repair droids, was engaged in internal work to upgrade the ship to the latest design standards of the shipbuilder Zion.
Slowly but surely, the Cauldron would one day become the Dominion's primary Star Destroyer.
True, they hadn't yet come up with a name for the series, except for the byword that had become common in all corners of the galaxy — "Imperial Star Destroyer."
Dominion Star Destroyer.
Or Dominion-class Star Destroyer.
Whatever people preferred.
In any case, the official documents allowed only one correct abbreviation — DSD.
This was done precisely to distance the designation from the familiar ISD.
The Dominion, in small steps, was increasingly moving away from Imperial officialdom.
"Why are we here?" Freymis was standing next to the Grand Moff.
So close that one might even start to worry that the woman might lunge at him and take him hostage.
But she had enough sense to understand that, within the ysalamiri field, without any weapon, the slightest suspicious threatening move on her part would result in the guards impaling her on their vibropikes.
Obviously, that was why she was behaving quite calmly.
But Felix wasn't fooled, perfectly aware that the moment she got the chance, she would make her move.
At least for now, while he had only just begun his work to re-recruit her for service to the Dominion.
"You were right in saying that your brother died here," the Grand Moff said, looking at his interlocutor.
"His body is infected with the plague."
"As are the bodies of the mercenaries and Zann Consortium fighters," Felix confirmed. "But you got rid of them."
"Yes," she nodded affirmatively. "I gathered them all in spacious rooms, shut off the life support, and opened the airlocks, so that both they and the plague would be swept out of the station into the vacuum, where both they and the plague pathogens would die."
"Your work made the Dominion's capture of the Chiloon Rift easier," Ferrus offered his thoughts.
"That was the calculation," the Lady Inquisitor snorted. "But it didn't pay off."
Of course, she understood that her attempt at infiltration had been unsuccessful and that she wouldn't be accepted into the ranks of the Jensaarai.
But she didn't know the actual reason.
She could only guess.
"I took the responsibility upon myself to order your brother's body preserved," Ferrus admitted. "It underwent a decontamination procedure and is no longer a danger to others."
The Lady Inquisitor looked at him with suspicion.
But there was something else in her expression.
Interest.
She wanted to know why he had done this.
"It seemed to me that you might not be opposed to saying goodbye to your brother before his body is interred," the Grand Moff voiced his point of view. "I don't know exactly how farewells to the dead are conducted in the Inquisitorius, or what you do with corpses, but... I assume that, in any case, you don't shoot them into the nearest star, as is customary in the fleet."
"And why am I being granted such an honor?" disbelief was evident in the Lady Inquisitor's voice. "As far as I understand, your counter-intelligence officers and pet Jedi don't consider me worthy of being accepted into Dominion service. So why would you, one of the three rulers of the Dominion, come to meet me halfway?"
Yes, she also didn't know that Thrawn was alive.
Who would have told her, considering that she had practically been written off immediately?
"Do you know what I value in sentients?" Ferrus asked.
"Give me access to the Force, and I'll answer with a high degree of truth," the Force-sensitive woman smirked. "Or have you decided to occupy me with idle fortune-telling?"
"Honesty," Ferrus answered his own question. "How about we be honest with each other?"
The woman looked at him as if he were insane.
"The opportunity to bury your brother is a gesture of trust on my part," Ferrus explained.
"Remove my guard and restore my access to the Force — that would be a gesture of trust," the Lady Inquisitor countered.
"Oh, we don't trust each other that much yet," Ferrus smiled. "Now, if you were to tell me about the relationship between Tyber Zann and Cronal, who hides behind the alias Shadowspawn, then yes, I would think about easing the restrictions on you."
He turned to look directly at his interlocutor.
Both guards stood behind her like silent shadows.
Freymis studied him with interest for a while, then, making a decision, inquired:
"And how long have you known?"
"For some time," the Grand Moff replied evasively.
"Evasions," she shook her head. "What about the honesty you spoke of not so long ago?"
"And what about you telling me that Cronal controls Zann on Palpatine's orders?" the retort caused the woman to tense noticeably at what she heard.
"How deeply have your agents sunk their tentacles into the Emperor's affairs?" her voice was hard, demanding, commanding.
"Just deep enough to ensure the Dominion's survival," Ferrus explained.
"You're on the wrong path," Freymis shook her head. "Following the course of secession that Grand Admiral Thrawn advocated is not a path to survival. The Emperor wields enormous power..."
"All that has vanished from the face of the galaxy and is considered destroyed," Felix smiled. "Lady Freymis, there's no need for vague assumptions. We know perfectly well why you did everything possible to get inside the Dominion. I'll tell you straight away — neither I nor the other members of the Triumvirate will allow you to harm the state. No matter how hard you try."
"That sounds like a line from a holo-drama hero," the woman snorted. "Just as theatrical and just as empty..."
"You are being allowed to attend your brother's funeral," Ferrus reminded her.
A smile appeared on the young woman's face.
"And with this, you want to win me to your side?" she chuckled. "By giving me the right to bury a corpse that was created by your own efforts and through your own fault? Do you really think so small?"
"Perhaps," Ferrus shrugged. "But I'm giving you a chance to live. The order for your destruction, as an enemy of the Dominion, only needs to be signed. And within an hour after that, you will be eliminated."
The Lady Inquisitor laughed.
"Do you think death frightens me?"
"Doesn't it frighten every one of us?"
"Maybe weaklings like you, yes, but not me," the woman retorted. "I swore allegiance to the Empire. Just as you once did, Grand Moff. But I am true to my promise to serve and defend the Empire."
"Even when there is no Empire anymore?" the Grand Moff inquired, watching as the Forward docked with the main asteroid in the entire rock field.
"Only weaklings do not see the Empire's greatness," Freymis snorted. "And soon, when the Emperor deems it necessary, all traitors will be destroyed. Including you, Grand Moff."
"In other words, Palpatine did not see fit to save the Empire all these past years," Felix nodded. "And you think that's right? To be in the Core, watching everything he built over the years crumble? Watching his subjects kill each other while his enemies only grow stronger? He could have made himself known at any time when the Imperial Civil War was just beginning."
"And what would that have changed?" Freymis inquired. "The Emperor allowed the traitors to reveal themselves, to show their rotten nature. And now he will destroy them all — one by one."
"If he is so powerful, why does he use criminals to weaken his enemies?" the Grand Moff asked.
"Because cunning is the way of the Dark Side," this time her answer was not as quick.
Which gave hope that the woman had at least thought about his words.
"Among those who serve the Dominion, there are also adherents of the Dark Side of the Force," the Grand Moff acknowledged. "However, according to them, the path of your teachings is betrayal. Using minions to achieve your goal and then eliminating them. Or am I wrong? Remind me, didn't the Emperor try to get rid of Darth Vader when he considered him too weak? Or wasn't the Dark Lord planning to get rid of his master? If Palpatine is so powerful and calculating, why did he fail to exterminate the Jedi? I've heard that according to Sith philosophy, there should only be two Sith — a master and an apprentice. Palpatine, however, had the Inquisitorius and an endless number of Force-sensitive agents who carried out and still carry out his assignments. Isn't that a violation of the Sith's own philosophy?"
"No," the Lady Inquisitor stated sharply.
Too sharply, in Ferrus's opinion.
"Be it so," he shrugged. "But if you ask me, no philosophy justifies what happened to the Empire after Endor. I don't think I need to remind you that Palpatine built the Empire so his courtiers would constantly scheme against each other, vying for their master's attention. And instead of destroying enemies, he only created them inside his own state. Exactly the same way he decided to gather all the rebel movements, that scattered force operating across the galaxy, into one place so he could destroy them all at once. Strangely enough, it was they who destroyed him. He poured money and resources into expensive projects when those sums would have been enough to fund fleet expansion and strengthen defenses. Coruscant fell in just a few hours of fighting. A demonstration attack — and the planet surrendered to the mercy of the victors..."
"What are you getting at, Grand Moff?" the woman cut off his reasoning, her piercing gaze fixed on him.
"At the fact that Palpatine doesn't care about anyone in the galaxy," Felix explained. "Of course, he doesn't report to me. I'm only judging by the deeds, not the words, that he brought to life. As you yourself noted — words mean nothing. But actions..."
The Inquisitor stood in complete silence for some time, averting her gaze.
Ferrus could see the gears turning in her mind, but he had no idea what this woman was thinking about.
Just as he didn't believe that this conversation would be enough to convince her to switch sides to the Dominion and share what she knew.
But what worried him most was the possibility that Lady Inquisitor knew even less than Maris Brood.
"I see no point in debating the actions of the Sith Lord with someone who understands nothing of the ways of the Dark Side of the Force," Freymis finally declared, raising her gaze to the Grand Moff.
"Your choice," Felix shrugged.
"Exactly," Freymis said triumphantly, staring out at the asteroid field visible from the bridge of the Vanguard, which had finally come to a complete halt near the base.
Well, as Thrawn had warned him, recruiting this woman wasn't worth the effort he'd spent on her.
Fine, in that case, time to move to "Plan B."
Ferrus pulled a comlink from his breast pocket and held it out to the Lady Inquisitor.
"It's keyed to my frequency," the man explained, handing over the device. "I'll be busy with an inspection for a while. But if you do decide, before my departure, to make arrangements for the burial of your kinsman — perhaps the only one you have in the entire galaxy — let me know."
"That won't change my decision," Freymis declared.
But she didn't refuse the comlink.
"Be it so," Felix agreed. "But when I go to sleep at night, my conscience won't be tormented by the thought that I didn't try to help you and spare you from an unenviable fate."
"And what will that get you?" the gifted woman asked, studying him as if seeing him for the first time. "I won't switch to your side regardless. You can throw me out the airlock right now and forget about your worthless attempt to turn an Inquisitor loyal to the Oath."
"As you wish," Ferrus said indifferently. "As for your question... What will it get me? I already told you — a clear conscience. Maybe in your eyes I'm a traitor, a weakling, a defector, but I've experienced firsthand what it's like to be used and abandoned by the Empire. And I can say with absolute certainty that this isn't some grand plan — hiding in the shadows and waiting for your enemies to tear each other's throats out. It's a banal desire to remove yourself from a situation that doesn't interest you. I don't deny that Palpatine will indeed return. But he'll do it only after others have done all the work for him. Exactly as happened with the Empire's rise. He killed the Jedi with someone else's hands and declared himself Emperor, fabricating the necessary evidence of the Order's guilt. The Empire, built on lies, lasted a thousand times less than the Republic, which was riddled with corruption and toothless bureaucracy — the very things Palpatine claimed he was trying to save us from. In his own words."
"At least you don't deny that he did what he planned," Freymis smiled.
"I don't argue with facts," Felix agreed. "But what he did at the end of the Clone Wars and what's happening now are different things. Thirty years ago, he was running the process himself. Now, he's dumped the work on his underlings. Obviously, he has more important things to do than rebuild the Empire, which, in his opinion, was so desperately needed by the galaxy as the only means of fighting Republican lawlessness."
The Lady Inquisitor said nothing.
Felix stood beside her for a few more seconds, then turned and walked toward the bridge exit.
"Grand Moff," the Lady Inquisitor called after him. "I admire how much you believe your own words. But it still won't change my decision."
You're pushing that too hard.
"Noted," the man nodded, glancing at the solitary figure by the main viewport.
No further remarks followed, so he turned again, lifted his foot to take a step...
"You're right, my brother meant a lot to me," oh, for crying out loud, woman! First she won't say a word, now she won't shut up. "I am loyal to the Empire, but I appreciated your gesture. The route you're using to reach the Chiloon Rift is not the most optimal and is quite dangerous. Give me a datapad, and I'll show you the way here through the Mieru'kar sector. I imagine you were quite disappointed when you didn't find any information about it in the Cauldron's central computer."
"It's hard to find anything in electronics that's been destroyed by a lightsaber," Felix summarized.
"Still didn't work," the woman snorted. "I want to cremate my brother according to Jedi custom. Since you've decided to assist me with that, I'll help you find an easier path through this part of the galaxy."
"Not afraid of the Emperor's wrath when he shows up?" Ferrus couldn't resist goading.
He held his breath, trying to predict whether "Plan B" had a chance, or if he'd miscalculated again.
"Well, I am helping the Empire," the Lady Inquisitor explained a few seconds later. "The Empire needs resources. Everything necessary is here. The Emperor will only praise me for using you to streamline the process."
Excellent, Felix thought silently.
Even if the recruitment had failed, the outlines of a way to use this lady were taking shape.
All that remained was to find the right arguments to interest her in revealing other information.
And for that, he just needed to make her understand that Cronal was acting in his own interests, not for the good of the Empire.
Dealing with fanatics is difficult.
But it's possible.
* * *
Preparation complete.
The Guardian races through space and time toward its distant goal.
Only one brief stop along the way, after which we'll continue to the final destination.
However, first, one rather important issue needs resolving — one whose appearance I hadn't predicted.
Major Kreb stood at attention before me, regulation-style.
The young officer had just finished his report on the reasons that led to his leave request.
And, I must admit, his motivation for traveling outside Dominion space evoked mixed feelings in me.
"I take it you understand the possible consequences of your leave on Ryloth?" I clarified.
"Yes, sir,."
There's no need to explain to an ace pilot that a prolonged stay on a planet within the New Republic's sphere of interest could lead to unpredictable developments: from conditionally neutral to outright negative.
On Ryloth, we had agents among the former Twi'lek slaves, and several deeply embedded operatives disguised as local traders and transporters.
They provide cover for operations to migrate the local population to the Dominion.
And it's not as if these campaigns are problem-free or fully supported by the local population.
But the woman he intended to find could be anywhere on the planet.
Ryloth has numerous settlements scattered on the surface and below it, so one sentient on a multi-million population planet — that's not even a needle in a haystack, not even a single star in the sky.
Any search for a person by name could attract the interest of both local intelligence services and Republic intelligence.
Not to mention the Alliance, which has strong ties to Ryloth dating back to when several Twi'leks joined the Rogue Squadron — in whose destruction Kreb was directly involved.
I have no doubt Palpatine's agents are also present there.
Just like in any major criminal organization, for that matter.
After all, Ryloth has been an ancient source of the galaxy's popular slaves, the indigenous population.
And consequently, there are more spies there than on any neighboring planets in the sector.
Which is precisely why the Guardian's commander found himself in a difficult position, unable to resolve the matter on his own.
Kreb is our source of clone pilots for TIE Interceptors.
Not to mention he's a high-ranking officer entrusted with numerous secrets — from the training of our pilots and the technical equipment of our air wings, to the very existence of the cloning program, which we've so far managed to keep hidden from the general public.
If Kreb fell into enemy hands, we'd suffer serious reputational and strategic losses.
It would be simpler to forbid the man from fulfilling the promise he made to his long-deceased wingman.
But the situation is far from simple when viewed from the perspective of fostering the Dominion's officer corps.
We position ourselves as a state where being an officer, and a soldier in general, is a privilege.
A special distinction, for which a sentient must possess not just a set of knowledge and skills, but also a range of qualities — both professional and personal.
Obligations and responsibility for a battle comrade — that is one such quality.
One could cite endless arguments for keeping the Major aboard the Guardian.
Especially given the upcoming operation.
For instance, the most obvious grounds for refusal is Kreb's participation in the cloning program.
Lose him — lose the ability to create new clone pilots for the Dominion's primary light fighter.
But then again, from a formal standpoint, we have a large stock of Kreb's genetic material.
And his recent mental scans — dating from the battle at the Corporate Sector's borders.
Kreb hasn't studied anything new in that time.
So yes, if he's killed or captured, hidden away beyond our ability to find and extract him, we'll have to write off the program's development specifically in his case.
As with Molo Himron, Colonel Celid, Operative Steben, Captain Stormaer, Vice Admiral I-Gor, and many others, we'll simply continue recreating clones until we exhaust the genetic material.
I ought to say that as a holder of secrets, Kreb cannot afford such "voyages."
But on the other hand, I mustn't forget that before me stands an exemplary and sufficiently motivated, ideologically steadfast combat officer who would never willingly talk to an enemy.
And no one is immune to the use of special "truth-serum" methods.
As was thoroughly studied and ingrained into my subconscious in my past life, a formalist officer must forbid everything to avoid taking responsibility.
For initiative is punished, at the very least, by the fact that it always backfires on the initiator.
I've fallen into a logical trap of my own words and actions.
How hypocritical would it sound to tell the story of how Grand Admiral Thrawn promises every soldier and officer that their desire to serve the Dominion with honor is a virtue?
But when it comes to the personal fulfillment of that very honor's tenets, Thrawn finds a way to refuse.
It turns out just like that sad aphorism: "A grateful Fatherland rewarded us with a bayonet in the chest."
How can I not recall the fact that a significant number of defectors and long-retired Imperials and Republicans switched to our side solely based on the authority of my words and deeds.
Earning authority is quite difficult.
Losing it is easy.
It's enough to make a few formal decisions in a difficult situation, fearing the consequences.
Yes, the reason for leave on Ryloth is extremely "non-regulation."
And there is an opportunity to refuse Major Kreb's request precisely on those grounds.
Using which, I would undermine trust in myself.
A delicate situation.
But a decision must be made.
I took a code cylinder from my breast pocket and pressed it to the screen of my personal datapad.
"Your leave is approved, Major," I announced my decision. "The motivation guiding you inspires respect and pride that a Dominion officer follows his inner convictions. Report to the Guardian's counterintelligence commander. He will provide you with all necessary documents and transport."
The Guardian's air wing commander nodded in acknowledgment.
Barely perceptibly, but still.
"You're dismissed," I ordered, handing him the datapad.
"Yes, sir," Kreb pivoted on his heels over his left shoulder and quickly left my quarters.
Pellaeon, who had been present the whole time and had remained silent, coughed into his fist, drawing attention.
"Do you have any objections to my decision, Captain?" I inquired.
"None at all, sir." Strange.
The original Pellaeon would have certainly concluded that he needed to criticize such an order.
The clone Pellaeon, though...
He's more thoughtful, in a way.
"May I suggest you dispatch a commando squad to escort Kreb, just in case?" Pellaeon asked.
Ah, so that's it.
"That's unnecessary, Captain," I explained, turning to review operational reports from Serenno. "We need the commandos for current combat tasks. Kreb will be covered by members of the Shadow Guard."
Especially since they already have an assignment on Ryloth that they've been carrying out for some time.
* * *
Anilex leaned over the tactical hologram.
Studying the structure of light that formed into intricate weaves of buildings and bridges, he suddenly realized he'd seen this type of architectural layout somewhere before.
He had to dig through his memory.
A few seconds later, he understood what it was.
"Carannia looks very much like the Fiyarro and Saffia we already took," he muttered.
"The capital of Serenno is just as much a breeding ground for anti-Republic sentiments as the other two megacities on the planet," came a comment from someone present in the command post.
The commander of Kavil's Corsairs broke eye contact with the tactical hologram and looked at the speaker.
"Do you have anything substantive to say, Protector Qid Proko?" he inquired of the Quarren.
The Quarren, along with the Miraluka sitting next to him, Olo Dras, were present at the meeting, as were Hedge Spar, commander of the Mandalorian elite troops, and Mortok, leading the army of loyalists assembled from the last reserves of Baroness D'Asta.
"I'm just an elite soldier attached to you as a reserve," the Quarren said, his facial tentacles twitching slightly. "How would I know anything about storming Separatist cities hidden under deflector shields and bristling with anti-space and anti-air defenses? No, I don't have combat and siege experience behind me. I'm just sitting in the company of pleasant sentients who can't seem to decide to start the assault. What can I say of substance? I'm not a general."
Olo Dras, raising his hand to his face, smiled at his comrade's sarcasm, grinning.
The Devaronian bared his teeth in a dazzling smile.
Spar showed no reaction to the joke.
Anilex bored into the Quarren with his gaze, then sighed heavily:
"If anyone present has something to say, then say it. We've already spent enough time talking during the storming of the other two megacities. I don't want to drag out the assault on Carannia any longer."
"I suggest bombing," the Mandalorian said. "Sooner or later, we'll overload their missile interception systems and take down that Hutt deflector shield over the city."
"We've been shelling Carannia with all types of weapons for two days straight," Mortok objected. "The capital has a large number of power supply stations, so the deflector won't fall..."
"Not to mention there are two of them," the Quarren interjected.
"And our missiles and bombs are being intercepted by their anti-air defense systems," the Devaronian finished.
"The situation is not pleasant," Anilex summarized. "Carannia is the last stronghold of the rebels. And it needs to be taken."
However, for the reasons stated above, it's impossible to do so.
The deflector shield prevented high-speed repulsor and antigravity vehicles from passing through — a design feature of the technological conflict.
The only things that could get through such protection were tracked, wheeled, or walking vehicles.
But they were knocked out on approach by the numerous J-1 proton cannons bristling around the city.
J-1 semi-autonomous proton cannon.
The hellish legacy of the Clone Wars could destroy both air and ground targets with equal lethality.
Even the magnificently armored AT-ATs suffered, their blaster-absorbing armor proving helpless against the enemy's numerous heavy cannons.
Despite the fact that the last use of these cannons dated back to the Clone Wars, and by general rule they should have been decommissioned or destroyed long ago, the J-1s had somehow ended up in the rebels' possession.
Literally — hundreds of cannons.
The capital was bristling with them like the horns on a Zabrak's head.
Anilex glanced at the datapad, on whose monitor data about the enemy's troublesome cannons was displayed.
Because it was essentially a full-fledged droid capable of autonomous movement, but requiring an operator to fire and aim at a target, it was considered "semi-autonomous."
The droid's primitive brain was only responsible for "meaningful" movement, easing the gunner's work, who was freed from the duty of watching every step of the J-1.
The support limbs of the carriage served not only for movement but also acted as stabilizers, giving the structure stability when firing.
The J-1 wasn't equipped with an automatic shell feeder — for some reason, the CIS deemed that an autoloader could be neglected, piling all the work of carrying heavy shells onto the weapon crew.
Be that as it may, the cannon also had a small horizontal traverse angle, forcing the entire structure to turn to shift fire.
During the Clone Wars, the J-1 cannon proved itself as a highly effective anti-air weapon.
The enormous power of its shells and their considerable armor penetration allowed it to successfully hit large Republic ships, and its quite sophisticated guidance system allowed it to fire lead at fast-flying and maneuvering targets, such as LAAT/i troop transports.
Anti-air batteries consisting of several J-1 cannons successfully engaged Republic landings on Geonosis, managing to hit at least a third of all LAATs.
During the battle for Ryloth, a single well-placed J-1 battery managed to disrupt a massive Republic landing, shooting down one Acclamator-class assault ship and seriously damaging a second.
On Serenno, during previous assaults on large cities, J-1s hadn't been seen anywhere.
But during the very first assault on Carannia, they showed themselves in full glory, demonstrating all their lethal power.
The first and second assaults on Serenno's capital city forced Kavil's Corsairs to bathe in blood just approaching the megacity's borders.
Now, as they licked their wounds, positioned beyond the reach of enemy artillery, they had to develop yet another plan to storm the most important city on the entire planet.
It was here that the remnants of the rebels and representatives of Serenno's Great Houses had taken refuge.
"Pellaeon should have authorized orbital bombardment," Spar's voice rang out.
His words carried pain from the loss of a considerable number of Mandalorian warriors.
And if a month ago, the Mandalorian commander understood and accepted this as an inseparable part of military action, now, having lost practically ninety percent of his personnel, he was in a frayed state, literally bursting with anger.
It was as if they had switched places.
Not long ago, Hedge was explaining to Anilex that losses in war were inevitable.
Now, the commander of Kavil's Corsairs had to remind his comrade-in-arms of his own words.
And of the truisms of the military invasion of Serenno.
"Our objective is to CAPTURE the city, not erase it from the planet's face," Anilex said loudly, looking at each of those present in turn. "Remember that."
As the ground forces commander, he was responsible not only for conducting operations but also for the morale of his subordinate officers.
Unfortunately, after the difficult assaults on the other megacities on the planet and the rising losses, this was becoming increasingly difficult.
Carannia had been given several days to surrender, and by now the deadlines stated in the ultimatum had already expired.
The third assault was approaching, after which the last stronghold of resistance was supposed to fall.
But no progress was visible in the situation.
Just as the orbital bombardment of the capital mentioned by Spar was ineffective.
The moment one deflector shield was destroyed, the enemy managed to activate the second.
While the ships in orbit were taking down the new barrier, Carannia's defenders managed to restore the first.
And this could go on indefinitely.
Even now, while the men discussed the situation, Dominion ships were shelling Carannia.
As always — without any success.
The capital had enormous reserves of food and weapons in its underground warehouses.
The number of defenders numbered in the hundreds of thousands.
Yes, for the most part, these were mobilized civilians who might be holding a weapon for the first time.
But that didn't particularly change the situation in the Dominion's favor.
For the battle-hardened soldiers of the Dominion to break the spirit of an untested enemy, they needed to engage them in close-quarters combat.
And those damned J-1s wouldn't allow it.
The situation reeked of crisis.
Anilex had already been informed by Pellaeon that "Kavil's Corsairs" would soon be needed for operations in other parts of the galaxy, and consequently, all the reserves that had been transferred to Anilex after the completion of the first phase of the counteroffensive would, in the foreseeable future, be withdrawn from Serenno for reassignment.
It was for this same reason, essentially, that the regular fleet couldn't fill Serenno's orbit above the capital with all its ships and turn the situation in the Dominion's favor.
Pellaeon made excuses with standard phrases, but as Anilex figured, the matter was most likely that the combat-ready ships of the regular fleet had already moved out to the staging points of the coming assault.
Which meant there would be no longed-for orbital bombardment from a massive number of cannons.
No matter how much they asked for it.
And not even a squadron of bombers would change that — the moment they entered the anti-air defense's kill zone, it would all be over.
The problem could have been solved by speedy "Scimitar" bombers, but they had all been recalled from rear units to replenish the losses suffered by the regular fleet during the first phase of the counteroffensive.
At least, that's what Pellaeon said.
Or maybe he was just trying to explain why he couldn't drag anything more than his battlecruiser and a bunch of Corellian corvettes to blockade Serenno.
Still, Anilex understood Pellaeon's thinking.
The Allegiance was the flagship and main strike force of the blockading squadron; a powerful ship, but relying solely on the strength of its armament due to the lack of an air wing.
The CR90s were the containment force.
Those corvettes were more than enough to intercept any ship that tried to escape the planet.
Given that the enemy's cruisers and corvettes had run out long ago, the only things that could break the blockade were civilian ships or lone starfighters.
The corvettes would handle those without the slightest problem.
"Captain Anilex," the Quarren spoke up. "Since no one has any sound ideas, may I speak?"
Even if he spouts some nonsense now, it'll be better than just admitting our helplessness, Anilex thought.
By the time Grand Admiral Thrawn personally arrived on Serenno to learn the reason for the delay, it would be preferable to have at least some effective plan for the assault.
At moments like this, he desperately felt the lack of a military genius in his ranks...
But the officers of the Dominion's regular army weren't exactly eager to enlist in "Kavil's Corsairs."
And those who were there lacked tactical brilliance.
"I'm listening."
"The key problem is that the enemy has the ability to switch their deflector shields," the former Jedi stated the obvious. "And that prevents us from breaking through their defenses."
"Is it customary for Jedi to state the obvious out loud, as if we're in group psychotherapy here?" Mortok bared his teeth.
"Stand down," Anilex barked. "Yes, Defender, that's exactly it. Their shields are strong, allowing them to withstand fire and activate the second deflector when the first needs to recharge."
"I suggest we wait for Thrawn's arrival," the Devaronian voiced his opinion. "The Guardian's weapons will be enough to overload both deflectors and prevent them from switching."
"If the Guardian takes down one shield, then the second, the first won't have time to recharge, and then Thrawn's gunners will have a chance to destroy the field projectors," the Mandalorian said. "Or do the Jedi have a different opinion? Like, stand up tall, wave a lightsaber, and charge the cannons with your bare chest?"
The Jedi simply ignored him.
The Quarren was studying the hologram of the capital city of Serenno, tilting his head every now and then to get a different angle on the projection.
"I think the Guardian would wipe the city off the face of the planet faster than it could neatly shoot out every single projector," Anilex objected, having recently discussed a similar initiative with Pellaeon.
"What about digging an underground tunnel into the city?" the Mirialuka asked. "We break through underground and start the assault from the sewers or underground parking lots..."
"We considered that option," Anilex waved his hand. "Carannia is on the seashore on one side, but the foundation is ultradense skarn and granite. The enemy has forces to repel surface and underwater landings — we felt that ourselves during the first and second assaults. We can't break through to them underground in even two months — the drills break after just a few hours of work."
"We need to blow up the generators powering the second shield," the Quarren declared, finally stopping his examination of the hologram.
"Sabotage," Olo Drast said. "It would help."
Anilex looked at the Mirialuka with curiosity.
"And which of the locals, who are irreconcilable protesters against any ruling regime, would help us?" he inquired.
"We don't need help from the local population," the Quarren stated. "Drast and I will handle the entire operation. We'll infiltrate the city, under the cover of simulating another bombardment, destroy several generators, and then the enemy's ability to generate power for the deflectors will be reduced. Even one destroyed power plant means an increase in the recharge time of the deflector shield. The first or the second — doesn't really matter."
"Granted," Anilex said slowly. "But even the two of you won't be able to blow up more than one power plant. The rest will be cordoned off after the first explosion. And a minor drop in generation won't really help us much, to be honest. It will just create a 'window,' and we still don't know if this plan will even work at all."
"If there are volunteers to join our sortie, we won't object," the Quarren declared.
"I suggest we wait for Thrawn and let him deal with it," Hedge Spar grumbled.
"I'm not against a good fight," the Devaronian rubbed his hands together.
"Actually, no one is against it," Anilex said, running a hand over his face. "But before we decide on this, I'd like to know one important detail, Defender Proko and Drast."
"You're wondering how we'll get into the city?" the Quarren guessed the obvious, cracking his neck.
"Exactly. By air, on the ground, by water, and underwater, we've already tried — heavy losses. What's your proposal?" Anilex intoned, watching the Quarren with undisguised curiosity.
The latter exchanged glances with the Mirialuka.
Then his gaze returned to the commander of "Kavil's Corsairs."
"First, I want to inform you that the enemy's defense is commanded by a Separatist tactical super battle droid," he said. "I've dealt with similar mechanical enemy commanders before, so I think I know how to outwit him."