Life in modern realities is a rather interesting period of time, from the perspective of opportunities.
States collapse, and new ones are created on their ruins.
Political heavyweights perish, who in the past seemed unshakable monoliths, giving way to newcomers who do not possess significant political capital.
But at the same time, the younger generation possesses audacity, insolence, cynicism, and the grip of a rancor.
Having once sunk their teeth into the throat of a weakened enemy, the youth, if they truly have ambitions and not just the greed inherent in narrow-minded sentients, will not let go of their prey.
Never, as long as it's in their interests.
Youth is an advantage that allows one to be unknown in the eyes of one's enemies and friends.
Exactly until it's time to strike at the very heart of the chosen target.
And most importantly, unlike the ossified 'old men', the youth see nothing shameful in walking over heads.
All this flashed through the head of a young woman named Elizabeth Lor as she, taking a sip of wine that reeked of time and almost the decay of the Old Republic, tore her gaze away from the decorations of the study.
She had been here only ten minutes, awaiting the arrival of the man who owns all of this.
And when she thought of 'everything,' that collective concept included not only the collection of antiques, paintings, and sculptures, many of which had been considered lost to the galaxy for decades.
'Everything' meant literally everything.
This study.
The residence she was in.
The planet on which this magnificent little nest of aristocracy was located.
And so on — star system, sector...
The power of the man she was waiting for did not extend beyond one sector.
But his ambitions, apparently, did.
"Forgive me for the delay, Lady Lor," the expensive wooden doors swung open and the master of all this... revulsion entered with a light, youthful gait.
"Oh, not at all, Lord Bonteri," Elizabeth showed her modest smile to the imposing middle-aged man who had barely reached the human level of biological maturity. "Don't apologize. I understand perfectly. Business..."
"The duties of the ruler of the Tion Hegemony demand much of me, but hardly allow me to waste the time of such a beautiful young aristocrat from the Tapani sector," Bonteri showed her his white-toothed smile, capable of charming any brainless frump. "I cannot forgive myself for this. Tell me, how can I make amends?"
"Jump out the window and free me from this comedy, you belch of a rancor," Elizabeth thought with a smile on her lips.
"Well then, since you insist," the girl, sinking into a luxurious chair directly opposite Bonteri, gracefully adjusted the gauze shawl covering her bare shoulders. "Perhaps there is something with which you can compensate for my forced solitude."
"Anything within my power," Bonteri beamed, demonstrating his friendliness.
"That painting," Elizabeth turned slightly, allowing the aristocrat's keen gaze to fall on the curves of her body accentuated by the form-fitting silver dress. "It seems... impressive. And very ancient."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Bonteri, twirling a thin cigar in his hands, could barely tear his sticky gaze from her body and shift it to the indicated piece of art.
"Oh, yes," self-satisfaction and approval appeared in his voice. "This is indeed a rare example of ancient art. But you are mistaken. It is not a painting. It is a fresco."
"For all I care, it could be a sheet music book for a Tatooine jazz band," thought Elizabeth.
"Really?" she batted her eyes naturally. "Forgive my ignorance. I am not as experienced in such matters as you..."
Sometimes such duplicity and double meanings drove her more crazy than the need to wear uncomfortable aristocratic attire, but duty obliged her to be fully armed.
Including pretending to be a dim-witted idiot when such a need arises.
"There is nothing shameful in that, young lady," Bonteri's voice sounded with arrogant condescension. "If you are truly interested in getting acquainted with the world of art, then without doubt I am ready to be your guide. Wherever you wish..."
At such vulgarities, she felt as if she had bathed in a sewage pit of a pack of rancors.
"I will think about your offer," she said. "Perhaps you could tell me what this painting is?"
"A fresco," Bonteri lit his cigar and puffed a cloud of aromatic smoke. "It is over three and a half thousand years old. A little short of almost four thousand, actually."
"Really?" the girl feigned surprise. "But... how come the paint hasn't faded in that time?"
"Storage features," the ruler of the Tion Hegemony winked at her. "But if you look closely, you will see that the image is covered with cracks."
Elizabeth, arching gracefully, rose from the chair and approached the decoration on the tastelessly painted wall.
She pretended that she was really interested in what the head of House Tion had said.
Well, then...
The cracks are indeed present.
Which speaks to its authenticity.
Well, even before this she had almost no doubt that everything in this residence, everything that adorns it, is genuine.
Informants are worth their money.
"As you said," she smiled just as stupidly, maintaining this entire idiotic high-society atmosphere. "There are cracks."
"That is the only thing that has spoiled on this fresco in almost four thousand years," explained Lord Bonteri. "Otherwise... this fresco is as unique as, for example, 'Killik Twilight'."
"Is that also made of moss?" Elizabeth played feigned surprise, making round eyes.
"No, of course not," Bonteri laughed quietly. "This fresco is unique because the people who made it are destroyed."
"Is that so?" Elizabeth made a sad-concerned facial expression. "How did that happen? Are the Jedi depicted in the fresco to blame?"
"Partially," the cheerful notes disappeared from Bonteri's voice, and desire and even admiration bordering on mania appeared in his voice. "This masterpiece of the Massassi people's painting is called 'Exar Kun Fresco'. He was a Jedi who became disillusioned with their stupidity and shortsightedness, gained power, and became a Sith Lord who enslaved the Massassi race, becoming for them something like a deity. He opened the path to the stars for them, showed them their hidden potential, and with their help nearly destroyed the Jedi almost four thousand years ago."
"How interesting," Elizabeth said with feigned interest, almost indistinguishable from real. "And... which of the depicted sentients on it is Exar Kun?"
"The fresco depicts a lightsaber duel between the Dark Lord of the Sith Exar Kun, wielding a lightsaber with a red blade, and a woman — a Twi'lek Jedi, wielding a lightsaber with a blue blade, who ultimately fell at the hands of the Sith Lord," Bonteri said with a smile.
The Exar Kun Fresco.
"Is that so," Elizabeth feigned admiration. "What a pity that this sentient failed to solve the problem of the existence of the Jedi Order back then."
"Indeed a pity," Bonteri answered seriously. "But despite the excellent execution of the fresco, it is not accurate enough, which is easily explained by the low level of development of the Massassi themselves."
"Really?"
"Of course," Bonteri nodded affirmatively. "You see, having stopped being a Jedi, Exar Kun did not stop using a double-bladed lightsaber with a blue crystal. The Massassi could not have been unaware of this, but for some reason decided to depict their master with a crimson lightsaber. Perhaps as a tribute to tradition or something similar. After all, in the past, the Massassi already had experience with and submission to the Sith, who used such weapons with precisely such crystals."
"What a fascinating story!" Elizabeth admired. "Oh, you tell it with such delight that I even feel awkward claiming rights to it against your words about satisfying my joking remarks about compensation..."
"Not at all," Bonteri surrounded himself with a cloud of aromatic smoke. "On the contrary, it will be a pleasure for me to give you such a gift as a sign of my personal respect for you. Not to mention that the aristocrats of the Tapani Sector themselves are closely connected with the history of the Sith of the past."
"That is why I noticed this work of art," Elizabeth explained. "Won't you tell me how this miracle of ancient creativity came into your hands? Of course, if it's not a secret..."
"What secrets could there be between allies?" Bonteri smiled. "This fresco appeared on the black market shortly after the Battle of Yavin IV, when that world became widely known in the galaxy. A group of adventurers discovered it in one of Exar Kun's old residences and revealed it to the world. Then it went into a private collection, and from there, after the previous owner died, it was delivered to me as a token of gratitude."
"Strange that I haven't even seen mentions of it in the HoloNet," Elizabeth shook her head.
"Not surprising, actually," the head of House Tion snorted. "Until recently, it was owned by some antiquities collector on Commenor, who collected exclusive items and didn't even display them. One of my trade partners managed to negotiate with him and presented me with the fresco, as well as all these art objects you see in my study," he gestured with his hands at the walls decorated with paintings and the pedestals with sculptures placed in the corners. "An incredibly generous gift to pay homage to someone with whom he is establishing trade relations."
"Won't you share the coordinates of this partner with me?" Elizabeth asked slyly. "Perhaps he has something else that could catch my attention. Sentients who can persuade stubborn people to part with their treasure are incredibly valuable to those who wish to possess ancient art..."
Bonteri's face took on a distressed expression, as if he no longer wished to talk about this topic.
"Unfortunately, I cannot," he replied. "This sentient stopped contacting me, and his ships disappeared, never delivering any shipment of the cargo I so needed from neighboring Allied Tion to the Hegemony. A pity, but it seems that the treacherous Alliance killed my partner, something I can't stop thinking about."
"Yes," Elizabeth sighed, returning to her seat. "Treachery on the part of those who until recently knew their place and were nothing but dust under the feet of the galaxy's strongest authorities happens more and more often. Betrayal at every step. We need to fight this..."
"Isn't that why we are holding our meeting?" Bonteri inquired with a smile on his lips.
"Of course," Elizabeth smiled back at him. "The Alliance has been interfering with many sectors lately."
"As does the New Republic, one must understand?"
"Yes, Fey'lya is a completely unbearable neighbor," the young woman depicted a promising smile of a person who would greatly enjoy watching the suffering of the one she just mentioned. "The aliens grow bolder every day."
"That is precisely why we aristocrats must stick together," Bonteri chimed in.
"Actually, that's why we are gathered here," Elizabeth laughed quietly. "So, I suggest we move on to our business."
"A self-evident proposal," Bonteri nodded. "The Tion Hegemony has decided to expand. We are not satisfied with our half-witted neighbors, from whom you never know what to expect. Unfortunately, some steps I have taken remained unrealized due to the stupidity of the executors."
"May I ask what steps?" asked Elizabeth, tuning in for a veiled interrogation.
"Of course," agreed the head of House Tion. "I planned to use the Alliance, making a temporary agreement with them, to have them clear out the neighboring sectors of the Tion Cluster for me."
"I suppose we are talking about Allied Tion, the Kronos Mandate, the Indrexu sector?" asked Elizabeth.
"Not only," Bonteri countered, touching a switch on his desk with his hand.
The light
"What you're seeing is a visual history of the Tion Cluster," Bonteri explained. "Much like the Tapani sector in its time, Tion has undergone considerable territorial changes. But we Tions—" the woman nearly burst out laughing, but managed to contain herself within the bounds of proper conduct "have always dreamed of restoring our historical borders. In addition to the Tion Hegemony and the Allied Tion, Cronese Mandate, and Indrexu sector you mentioned, I intend to annex the Keldrath sector and the Thanium Worlds to the Hegemony as well, since they were part of the systems once conquered and forged into the jewel of Xim the Despot's Empire, which existed over twenty-four thousand years ago."
Well, his ambitions certainly are something, Elizabeth assessed, listening to her interlocutor's words.
"Those are enormous territories."
"The Tions deserve to have their historical sectors returned to them," Bonteri repeated like a mantra.
Elizabeth thought quickly.
Before arriving at this meeting, she'd had to spend a considerable amount of time filling in the historical gaps regarding the subject at hand.
What Bonteri was talking about, the Empire of Xim the Despot, was an immense ancient relic that even most Tions themselves didn't understand particularly well.
After the Galactic Republic annexed this region nearly twenty-four thousand years ago, Greater Tion, as it was then called, was divided into several sectors.
The Tion Cluster itself was eventually organized into the Tion Hegemony and the Kingdom of Cron by the time of the Clone Wars and became a hotbed of outright separatism.
In retaliation for their participation in the Clone Wars on the side of the CIS, the Galactic Empire split the Hegemony into the Allied Tion sector and the Tion Hegemony, also renaming the neighboring Kingdom of Cron as the Cronese Mandate.
The Crones were generally more outwardly focused than the rest of the Cluster, and the Allied Tion, though lacking historical identity, became known for its manufacturing and trade.
However, the core of the Tion Hegemony split into two very different regions: the moderately wealthy worlds of Livien at the start of the Desevran Run, near the Perlemian Trade Route, and the poor, culturally diverse worlds beyond the Indrexu spiral along the Tion Trade Route, known as the Reversal Spiral.
The Empire also reorganized the regions surrounding the Cluster, carving out the Indrexu sector from Tion Hegemony territory beyond Kanavera.
The planets of the Far Perlemian had held little interest for the Republic in its final years, and slavers, pirates, and separatists often operated there with impunity.
The Indrexu sector — a name that recalled the long-fallen Confederacy of Indrexu, a successor state to Xim's empire a millennium ago — was carved out of the Hegemony in an attempt to keep the restless Indrexu worlds from uniting with their Livien neighbors.
The Keldrath sector was another attempt by the Empire to create a buffer zone, in this case between the Pakuuni sector and Tion.
The attempt was poorly thought out and backfired — this part of the Tion Hegemony had always gravitated toward Pakuuni, and the new sector immediately fell under its neighbor's influence.
The Thanium Worlds, which Bonteri had mentioned, lay much farther west from the rest of Greater Tion, "on the other side" of the Perlemian Trade Route.
They had been conquered by the Tions during Xim's expansionist period and formed the industrial engine of his Empire, which once stretched to the borders of the Radama Void and included worlds later known as part of the Sith Empire and the Gordian Reach.
The northern, frontier parts of the Thanium Worlds were known in Xim's time as Far Indrexu.
Credit where it was due — the Galactic Empire had cut and redrawn territories along their historical borders, or sometimes outright ignored them, while simultaneously fostering baseless legends of greatness and superiority over neighbors in the new territories.
So, despite the Empire's collapse, the sectors that had once been parts of Greater Tion and actually comprised a single people with a shared historical identity...
As a result, only thirty years had passed, and the population of sectors neighboring the Tion Hegemony now openly feared and hated the people led by Lux Bonteri.
But behind the fine words about historical justice, one also had to consider the conqueror's purely pragmatic approach.
Securing these sectors, even though he was smaller than the Alliance, meant Bonteri would command a powerful economic and manufacturing cluster.
One equal in strength to Imperial Space.
If not militarily, then certainly industrially and economically.
Still, one shouldn't delude oneself into thinking Bonteri lacked armed forces.
The sector fleet stationed in the Tion Hegemony during the Galactic Empire had, in its entirety, ignored command orders and remained at its post.
Not to mention that, according to intelligence, a considerable number of military personnel from neighboring sectors had joined him.
And now, by the most conservative estimates, Bonteri already had no fewer than two and a half thousand warships at his disposal, not to mention support vessels.
There was no need to even guess whom this entire armada now served — it was clear without any mental effort.
"You must be aware that a significant portion of the sectors you mentioned are law-abiding subjects of the Empire," Elizabeth reminded him.
Annoyance flickered across Bonteri's face.
The cigar stub in his hand snapped as it was tossed into the urn, scattering tiny sparks in flight.
"Those pathetic sycophants are merely a shadow of the Empire, unworthy of even being called Imperial subjects," Bonteri did not say, but growled in a voice changed beyond recognition. "They are destined to fall by my hand — that is inevitable. I have foreseen their every move. My plan is already in motion! My spies and advance forces are ready to break the spine of the Allied Tion. By subjugating it without any trouble, I can have little fear of what the other sectors of the Tion Cluster might field against me."
Elizabeth felt a trickle of ice-cold sweat roll down her back.
This sudden shift in Bonteri's behavior was so dramatic that she herself was frightened.
She strained with all her might to pretend everything remained the same between them.
"The Tapani aristocracy has no interest in this part of the galaxy," she said slowly, trying to pull herself together. "So I'm not disputing your point, dear Lord Bonteri. I'm merely clarifying what strikes me as strange. I'll agree that voices from the other sectors of the Tion Cluster aren't exactly loud about belonging to the Empire."
"They are all pathetic, insignificant beings who merely hold in their hands what belongs to me," Bonteri said hoarsely. "Instead of attacking the Alliance, they sit and tremble in fear of each other. Where we could have become a thorn in the rebels' side, we are forced by their passivity to sit and watch events unfold. Because every one of us knows — the moment any one of us initiates hostilities against another, our rear flanks will be exposed. And the neighbors will attack."
"Now I understand what purpose you intended the fools from the Alliance to serve," Elizabeth smiled.
"I wanted them to do all the dirty work for me," Bonteri said smugly in a low voice.
Nothing like the intonations he had used at the beginning of the conversation.
It was as if he had been replaced from within...
Or perhaps this was the real Bonteri, and what she had seen before was just another hypocritical mask.
The young woman looked at the "Exar Kun Fresco."
Yes, indeed. No assumptions needed.
That was exactly it.
"What kind of assistance were you hoping to receive from us?" she inquired, already knowing what the answer would be.
"Warships," he replied. "Preferably of Imperial designs — my military is well acquainted with them. A fleet composed of the same type of starships will be more convenient for conducting combat operations due to uniform characteristics and armament."
So, in addition to the nearly two and a half thousand military (and otherwise) ships he already had, Bonteri wanted even more line starships.
"Yes, we do have a certain number of Star Destroyers," Elizabeth smiled. "And even something larger..."
"I don't doubt it," Bonteri snorted. "The Hegemony is prepared to invest a substantial amount of credits for the construction of Star Destroyers and heavy cruisers at your shipyards."
"Is that so?" Lor was surprised. "That wasn't mentioned in the preliminary agreements."
"That's why they're called preliminary, representative," Bonteri snorted arrogantly.
"Well," Elizabeth paused thoughtfully for a few seconds, then nodded in agreement, "I think we can arrange that. Do you have any other requests for our industrialists?"
"Without a doubt," Bonteri's face spread into a smile. "As I recall, the Noble Houses of Tapani have an unfavorable neighbor you'd like to settle a score with."
Elizabeth forced a grateful smile.
"You're referring to the Shopani subsector?" she inquired.
"Precisely," Bonteri nodded with satisfaction. "Rich but independent worlds, one of which is Fondor. Remind me, are they still supporting the New Republic?"
"They were among the first to disown it after Grand Admiral Thrawn's siege of Coruscant."
"Is that so," Bonteri smirked. "Fondor, Tallaan, dozens of other developed worlds... Wouldn't the Noble Houses like to bring them under their control?"
"I'm not sure discussing this matter falls within my authority," Elizabeth Lor delicately sidestepped her interlocutor's provocative insinuation, glancing again at the "Exar Kun Fresco."
The being sitting before her was voicing very interesting and, at the same time, dangerous words.
"In that case, convey to your rulers that the Tion Hegemony would gladly support their claims to that corner of the galaxy," Bonteri snorted. "And we would be grateful if we were permitted to place orders that have never been fulfilled anywhere except at Kuat and Fondor. Now that galactic communications lie in ruins, attacking old enemies is quite convenient..."
Overcoming her inner trepidation, the girl nodded in agreement.
"I will be sure to relay your proposals to my superiors," she said. "As soon as a response is ready, you will be informed immediately, Lord Bonteri."
"I look forward to hearing from you," the head of House Tion smirked.
His expression sent a shiver through Elizabeth.
* * *
Thrawn looked up from studying the data provided to him and gave a barely perceptible nod toward the waiting Torin.
"Good work, Captain," the Grand Admiral's quiet voice came.
"Thank you, sir!" Torin snapped back the regulation response.
"You could have made a good Moff."
The words of the Supreme Commander of the Dominion were flattering, invigorating to the ego, but at the same time did not align with the career intelligence officer's inner convictions.
"I am honored, sir, but I consider it my duty to continue my career as a Dominion agent," Inek said.
"I won't insist, Agent," Thrawn said gently. "Play your role in the sector to the end, and then return to your primary missions."
"Yes, sir!"
The Grand Admiral's gaze briefly turned to the tactical screens encircling his workstation in a wide semicircle.
And even though there was no hint of pupils visible in his crimson eyes, Torin felt as though Thrawn was reading through the lines of countless operational reports.
As someone who had only briefly commanded the more than modest military forces of a single sector, Torin simply could not imagine what it must be like for Thrawn to be on the front line of this unending flow of information.
And it all streamed in from every corner of the Dominion!
"Inform the garrisons on the planets that their blockade will soon be lifted," Thrawn ordered.
"It will be done, sir!"
"Also, Agent," the Grand Admiral continued, "I want Mi-Ha Hutt to learn that negotiations regarding merger and military aid will soon take place between you, Captain Oland on one side, and the Dominion government on the other," the Supreme Commander continued, holding out a data chip. "The meeting coordinates are on the carrier. Make sure this information reaches our enemies in the least suspicious way possible."
The last part need not have been said.
Torin had been doing his work too long to simply botch what the operation's conclusion depended on.
"It will be done, Grand Admiral."
"In that case, you are dismissed, Captain," Thrawn's tone flowed with an intonation as if he had brought not just two ships against an enemy armada into the Allied Tion, but was also preparing to pull five battle groups out of his sleeve overnight for each of the many systems in the Allied Tion sector.
"Yes, sir."
Torin touched the peak of his cap, then quickly left the Supreme Commander's quarters aboard the Star Destroyer Chimaera.
Colliding in the doorway with Captain Tschel, the commander of the latter starship, the agent, lost in thought, muttered his apologies and continued toward the main hangar.
Captain Tschel stood for a few seconds, shook his head disapprovingly, and muttered:
"E-e-e-eh, the uneducated youth of today."
Then, deciding not to order the deck wiped with a lieutenant he'd seen for the first time in his life, he headed off to his meeting with Thrawn.
He was about to be briefed on the plan to cut off yet another head of the "Zann Consortium."
* * *
It took several hours to leave the meeting point and reach the rendezvous.
Elizabeth, leaning back in the pilot's seat, calmly watched the hull of the enormous ship grow larger with every second as Lor's shuttle approached it.
She had long since gotten rid of the annoying form-fitting dress, stuffing it into the trash compactor.
Not that an expensive piece of clothing from a galaxy-renowned designer was that irritating...
No, actually, it was.
After meeting that two-faced Bonteri, who clearly had a few screws loose, Elizabeth wanted to crawl into a shower and use every last cleaning product on herself to wash off the feelings that had been clinging to her ever since she met that...
Being.
"Like I took a bath in mud," the young woman grumbled, shuddering at the mere memory of the mercurial nature of the man she had had to meet.
Courteous and affable, he had transformed in an instant into repulsive, arrogant, gloomy, narcissistic...
A dramatic change.
Doubly incomprehensible given the circumstances that had led to the shift in rhetoric and behavior.
And all she had done was point out that the objects of his conquest were predominantly Imperial territories.
Yes, they preached a policy of isolationism, preferring to distance themselves from Imperial Space, but in any case, they weren't waging any military action against the Empire.
Nor against the rebels, for that matter.
The identification procedure went routinely, after which two TIE fighters escorted her to the main hangar.
Feeling more confident in her usual attire, the young woman reported her arrival, then received an order to proceed to the superstructure for a private conversation.
It wasn't often that junior operatives of the newly formed secret organization were granted the honor of meeting with the brass.
She had no particular desire to meet the mistress of this starship, but disobeying an order was beyond her strength.
It took her only half an hour to reach the compartment she'd been directed to.
All she had to do was use the turbolift and go up a few levels.
When she left the speed cabin, she flinched, seeing a tall being standing right in front of her, clad from head to toe in black-and-red armor with an opaque helmet.
A vibropike was held motionless in his hands, and the black visor seemed to see right through her.
"You are expected," came a dry reply through the vocoder built into the helmet.
A dimly lit corridor led her to a red double door, which swung open the moment she and her escort approached the passage.
A moment later, Elizabeth found herself in a room that was small by planetary standards but enormous compared to cabins, even on a ship the size of a small city.
A muted golden light warmed the room, wood-paneled walls gave a feeling of comfort, and for the first time since the meeting, she felt neither cold nor contempt.
Only fear and uncertainty.
She certainly couldn't be called a coward, but when you're about to have a one-on-one conversation with...
"Is your mission complete, Agent Lor?" inquired the woman sitting in the high-backed chair.
Her crimson uniform sharply harmonized with the room's interior, and her relaxed hands resting on the massive armrests implicitly indicated who was in charge here.
"Yes, ma'am, Director," Elizabeth reported dryly according to regulation, assuming the prescribed stance for speaking with her commander, who could awaken the most hidden fears by her mere presence.
Agent of Imperial Intelligence (Ubiqtorate) — Elizabeth Lor.
"Report," the Iceheart's voice was calm, not loud, one could even say she was relaxed.
Like a Corellian sand panther capable of pouncing on its prey and tearing it apart in an instant.
Noticing that under one of the Director's palms of the re-formed Ubiqtorate lay the data pad she had handed over to the officer overseeing the operation after landing, Elizabeth licked her suddenly dry lips.
On the Iceheart's knees rested the "Exar Kun Fresco," which Bonteri had given "as a gift to the representative of the noble houses of the Tapani sector."
The young girl clasped the fingers of her hands behind her back.
Maybe then they would stop trembling?
It took her about an hour to detail every dialogue, every topic raised during the meeting.
"At the end, he asked me if the Tapani aristocrats intended to attack the Shopani subsector. He also made it clear that he was interested in Fondor in the context of constructing Executor-class Super Star Destroyers, which were only built at Fondor and Kuat," the agent concluded, finishing her account.
"Did he say that directly?" the Iceheart inquired.
"No, ma'am," Elizabeth saw out of the corner of her eye that the Supreme Sovereign Protector who had escorted her here hadn't moved a millimeter the entire time she had been making her report.
"Lord Bonteri is incredibly ambitious," the woman in the crimson uniform smirked coldly.
She was twirling the very same fresco in her fingers like some curious toy, rather than a museum piece worth millions of credits.
Elizabeth watched her superior with a touch of envy, wondering what she was thinking about now.
The Iceheart was young, regardless of what the more experienced operatives from fleet intelligence who had been transferred under Isard's command to form the new Imperial Intelligence might say about her.
She was older than Lor — by about ten years, or more.
The Iceheart was incredibly beautiful.
Any woman would kill or sell her soul just to possess such a high, clear forehead, chiseled cheekbones, strong chin, small nose, full mouth, and impossibly large eyes.
Her long, heavy hair was as black as the bottomless gullets of black holes, and against this funereal background, two white strands seemed dazzling.
She was magnificent, Elizabeth thought.
And honestly, Lor was one of those envious souls who would definitely have pulled the trigger of her favorite sniper rifle, putting a bullet through the head of anyone who needed to be killed, just to possess the same beauty, sense of dignity, and power that Ysanne Isard had.
The only thing stopping her was that, despite her own attractiveness, Elizabeth could say with certainty that no person, no man from the crew of the Lusankya, could admit to feeling even sympathy for the Iceheart.
Let alone desire.
She didn't want to be admired, to be loved.
She had absolutely no need for that.
And was there even a madman in the whole galaxy who would dare to get close to the Iceheart?
Isard's face softened slightly for no apparent reason, but Elizabeth somehow didn't get the feeling that a possible imminent and bloody execution had passed.
The agent tried not to even think about whether she might have nothing to do with anything for which the Iceheart could punish her in the Emperor's name.
There was already enough to know that thanks to Ysanne Isard's efforts, seventy percent of the senior officers of the Imperial Starfleet, almost ninety percent of the command staff of the ground forces, and every single surviving Intelligence agent and Imperial Security Bureau operative from the New Republic's purge of the Ubiqtorate had been destroyed.
According to the official position, they were all traitors and low-grade hangers-on who served the Emperor only to satisfy their base goals.
Agent Lor disagreed with this, as among the thousands of people executed by the Iceheart's order, she knew a considerable number of victims of the repression who were honest, decent, competent, and loyal officers of the reborn Empire.
Yes, by the nature of her duties, she had been familiar with the investigative data regarding some of them.
And... she had been forced to admit that the facts gathered by Isard were indisputable and unambiguous.
But it was precisely this that caused the greatest storm of protest and incomprehension in Agent Lor.
In all her time studying at the Intelligence Academy, in all her time working in the fleet division, she had never encountered a case where such a large volume of incriminating evidence could not only be found but also secured in such a way that no one would have any doubt about the convicted person's guilt.
Either Isard truly was the best of the best.
Or...
No, she couldn't possibly be doing this on purpose to eliminate officers loyal to the Emperor.
She would have been exposed and executed long ago for something like that.
Most likely, Lor simply didn't understand something about her new job.
After all, fleet intelligence and Imperial Intelligence were fundamentally different.
The young female agent still couldn't get used to having to wear other people's faces, infiltrating with a "legend" or unnoticed into places where a year ago she would have simply barged in with a fleet special forces squad and burned out the criminal nest with a flamethrower or plasma grenade.
"In your report," Iceheart's perfectly manicured fingernail tapped the datapad, "you state that Lord Bonteri behaved duplicitously — there was a noticeable shift in mood, demeanor, and speech patterns; he went from open flirtation to psychotic rambling, issuing threats to conquer sectors loyal to the Empire. Do you confirm the veracity of these recordings?"
"Yes, Director," Elizabeth said slowly into the space before her.
Otherwise she wouldn't have included such data in her report, fearing the consequences that befell every agent who, out of habit, padded their reports or embellished reality and essential facts.
It was terrifying.
So much so that she felt sick.
Elizabeth held on purely through her moral and volitional strength, understanding that any misstep could make Iceheart see her not as a valuable agent, but as an incompetent who had no place in the reborn Imperial Intelligence.
"What do you know about the fresco that Bonteri gave you?"
"Only what I already told you."
Isard smoothed her impeccably fitted uniform.
"And only what was briefed to you as part of the mission parameters, correct?"
Elizabeth clenched her fingers together until they hurt.
Of course!
How could she have forgotten the intelligence data?
And she'd remembered it during the mission.
Why hadn't she mentioned it now?
The young female agent felt herself blushing, a shameful flush spreading across her face.
Isard watched with interest as her subordinate's futile attempts to hide her trembling failed.
"Correct, ma'am. I also used the intelligence data," Elizabeth admitted her inaccuracy bitterly.
"Not bad," the woman's lips twitched as if she were about to smile. "Admitting your mistakes is the first step toward correcting them. But don't expect to have much time to learn how to act like a proper Imperial agent."
Well, that meant a Sovereign Protector was about to blow her head off, and that would be it — she'd join her previously executed friends...
"Your personnel file states that you have high scores in visual information retention," Isard said, studying her subordinate with interest.
"That's correct, Director."
The woman ran her index finger across her upper lip.
Only now did Elizabeth notice that Iceheart's nails were painted crimson — the same color as her uniform.
And the next moment, the entire compartment plunged into darkness.
Elizabeth didn't even have time to understand what was happening before dozens of holographic images materialized around her.
No, hundreds...
Paintings, sculptures, mosaics...
"You have a chance to prove yourself," Iceheart's commanding voice reached her. "Tell me which of these artworks you saw in Lord Bonteri's office."
Elizabeth nodded slowly, licking her dry lips.
It took several minutes before she could identify the first ten.
Another five to compile a complete list of over thirty items and their identical holographic copies.
Immediately after, the darkness receded, and the light painfully struck her eyes.
Elizabeth covered them with her eyelids and continued listening to Iceheart in silence, understanding that if she didn't let her eyes adjust to the brightness, she simply wouldn't be able to see her interlocutor properly.
"Do you know where these artworks came from?"
"According to Bonteri — from some private collection," Elizabeth said, slowly opening her eyes and letting them adjust.
She got it on the second try.
"Strangely enough, he wasn't lying. The collection that held these and other artworks is indeed private. And every one of these canvases, every bust or statuette — they're the rarest treasures, presented as gifts to one individual. The greatest person in the galaxy since its formation."
Elizabeth remained silent, barely able to believe the conjecture whose clue lay in Iceheart's own words.
"Emperor Palpatine had his own vault where he stored valuable gifts received from important people," Iceheart continued. "We know that the late Grand Admiral Thrawn discovered this treasure trove in his time. And now our spies report that items from the Emperor's collection are in the hands of Imperial Remnants that haven't joined the reborn Empire. Meanwhile, as we indirectly understand, the Dominion — even after Thrawn's death — continues to expand, seizing new territories and rebuilding its economy at a rapid pace. Where do you think Vice Admiral Pellaeon gets the strength to put to use such a large number of ships — the ones Grand Admiral Thrawn captured during last year's entire campaign?"
"I couldn't say, Director."
"I suspect Thrawn bought their loyalty, paying for it from the Emperor's pocket," the woman looked at her subordinate, then sharply lifted her head. "Thrawn is dead, but his work lives on. The Dominion — those very rebels, a new breed of them — receives support from many worlds. We tracked down and identified the merchant who delivered to most of the hidden traitors."
Elizabeth remained silent, understanding that if a question had been asked at all, it was purely rhetorical.
"From a reliable source, I've learned that in almost every case of 'gifting' a ruler, a certain Hoffner was present. A smuggler, an information broker. Also the man through whom Grand Admiral Thrawn acquired the 'Dark Force' last year."
"The Katana Fleet."
"You may call it that," Ysanne Isard graciously permitted. "Now, when the Emperor is on the verge of beginning his victorious campaign, purging the nascent Empire of useless chaff. But first, you and I must thin out the traitors. Identify them all, verify or disprove the intelligence's claims about Dominion involvement. Tell me, Agent Lor, are you ready to help me purge the traitors among the Imperial Remnants, so that by the time the Emperor arrives, the parts of his Empire tremble before him in reverent awe, admiring his wisdom and foresight — cleansed of the filth of betrayal and embezzlement, just as I did in the Deep Core?"
Her head was ringing, and Lor couldn't understand how a single Executor-class Super Star Destroyer could not only decapitate the criminal, traitorous regime in the Remnants, but also stand against the fleets at the oath-breakers' disposal?
Calming herself slightly, the girl concluded that it couldn't be that simple.
Most likely, the Emperor's elite troops would follow them into the rebellious territories.
Intelligence had reported identifying artworks stolen from the Emperor's treasury by that foolish alien Thrawn.
Isard personally confirmed such facts, understanding that basing a punitive expedition solely on data from freelance operatives in such a situation would be an unjustifiable risk.
Yes, the Emperor's punishing hand would visit the traitors after them and bring peace to the reborn Empire.
And now the count was in the millions of sentients, if not more!
"Yes, Director," Elizabeth replied quietly, trying to hide the trembling that wracked her body. "I will devote myself entirely to the fight against the Empire's traitors."
Otherwise, what choice did she have?
"Excellent," a smile appeared on Iceheart's lips — a smile that made everything inside the young agent freeze, as if she'd landed on the surface of Hoth. "Then it's time for you to prepare for your next assignment."
"What will it be, ma'am?"
It turned out Ysanne Isard could smile even more terrifyingly.
"You will meet the Emperor and personally report everything to him."