According to the absolute majority of sentients Sarin had the pleasure of talking to during his retraining, Grand Admiral Thrawn was not prone to human emotions.
Yes, he was a humanoid, practically indistinguishable from a human except for his eyes and skin color, but he was cold, calculating, and devilishly intelligent.
Walking down the corridor leading to the bridge of his new ship, Sarin Virgilio couldn't help but recall a curious episode from the retraining.
Or, as Vice Admiral Pellaeon called it: "advanced training for personnel."
So, among the former Alliance officers, a completely pointless argument had started about what race the Grand Admiral belonged to.
There were plenty of ideas, and the Dominion officers — who were also part of their course but were transferring from small ships to brand-new main Star Destroyers based on their merits — just shrugged and weren't interested in the topic.
They even advised the former Alliance members not to get into it.
But still, some joker joked that Thrawn's parents were from the Pantoran and Duros races.
Which, according to the humorist, explained Thrawn's blue skin and red eyes without whites.
Whether that was true or not, no one ever found out.
And the joker just got his face beaten in, in the best traditions of the Alliance to Restore the Republic.
Simple preventive measures, which cost the counter-intelligence officers a lot of trouble with the conflict participants.
They were slapped with disciplinary actions, of course, but unlike the author of the unflattering joke himself, their group wasn't removed from the Star Destroyer commander training.
And that was the main thing for Captain Sarin Virgilio.
Captain Sarin Virgilio.
In the Dominion, even if one felt a strong spirit of the Empire, the order and legality…
At first, it seemed unbearably stifling here.
Rules, rules, duties, regulations…
Those accustomed to the more relaxed service conditions in the New Republic or the Galactic Alliance began to feel as if they had exchanged their captivity for useless paperwork and archives.
The expectation that they would be fighting those who had simply sold them out and thrown them under the bus gave way to disappointment and plummeting morale.
When your blood is boiling in anticipation of battle, you don't particularly want to read reports about what maneuver some commander or other under Thrawn's leadership had used in some battle or other.
Yes, at first it's interesting — any professional military person strives to get as much information as possible about their field of work to preserve the lives of their subordinates and accomplish future tasks set by command.
In the Alliance and the New Republic, such a practice doesn't exist, or it isn't widespread.
In the Dominion, thanks to the former Republicans and Alliance members, the service retraining was dubbed "the mandatory grind."
Tedious, monotonous…
But necessary — several Dominion officers who had faced a similar procedure in the past when transferring from light ships to heavy cruisers told them so.
"Grit your teeth and absorb it," the advice was simple and without details.
As it turned out, the alternative to a dismissive attitude toward training, retraining, and self-education was a kick out of the regular fleet.
At best, you could spend the rest of your career as the commander of some Defense Forces patrol ship, roaming remote systems looking for small groups of pirates, smugglers, or even guarding transports carrying colonists or supply ships for distant colonies.
That categorically did not suit the former Republicans and Alliance members — they had switched sides for revenge.
Fey'lya, who had sold them to the Dominion to be destroyed.
Bel Iblis and Han Solo, who had sent Star Destroyers as bait toward Pellaeon's ship.
The bait had worked.
Except that on the Guardian, it wasn't Gilad Pellaeon, but Grand Admiral Thrawn himself in the flesh.
After that fiery speech of his in the Guardian's holds, only the most thick-skulled fools, their minds clouded by ideological propaganda, didn't understand how they had been duped all this time.
And so, the decision — to learn for the sake of revenge and building a new life — was fundamentally the right one.
They pulled through on sheer moral and willpower alone — fortunately, the visible zeal of the future Star Destroyer commanders was encouraged by the instructors and teachers.
Everyone wanted to get aboard a "Trio"-project destroyer and see the perfected Imperial or Victory-class ships with their own eyes.
And…
When Sarin, having passed all the required exams, exercises, and so forth necessary to confirm his authority to command a Star Destroyer, the first thing he did upon receiving his posting and assignment to a specific Star Destroyer was laugh.
On the verge of hysteria.
Good thing the rooms in the service dormitory of the Captain Schneider Fleet Academy were private.
Otherwise, instead of an assignment to a destroyer bridge, he'd be taking a trip to the medical-sanitary unit.
His destroyer was called Justice.
This was already the third name for the ship since it had left the slips at Kuat Drive Yards.
And, frankly, Sarin didn't care what name the ship had borne under the Empire, and then during its possession by the New Republic.
Like many other starships, Justice had been captured as the final chord of Operation Crimson Dawn.
Then the ship had spent a long time in "storage" because it didn't have the necessary crew, and the minimum requirement was maintained by B-1 droids.
About a month ago, or thereabouts, Justice had been towed to a repair dock — also stolen from orbit over Sluis Van — where the ship had been ruthlessly and thoroughly gutted.
As if scavengers looking for valuables had attacked it.
Then it was put back together.
But now, the "Mark I" had progressed into the "Mark III."
And this was clearly a more advanced ship than its previous versions, which, with all their numerous flaws, had still given the enemies of the Galactic Empire headaches.
When defecting to the Dominion alongside his acquaintance, Captain Afyon, Virgilio hadn't particularly hoped that the new command would keep its word and his previous merits would be taken into account.
At the very least, because in the past he already had experience serving for the ideals he believed in.
And what he had gotten for that service…
To put it mildly — it didn't match the effort expended.
Virgilio had been a member of the Alliance to Restore the Republic practically from the very moment the first consolidated resistance appeared with the support of the Alderaanian government.
An experienced fleet officer who had betrayed the ideals of the Empire — ideals he believed in but couldn't realize due to the rampant nepotism of the Empire's behind-the-scenes intrigues — led him (like thousands of others) into the arms of the rebels.
It wasn't easy there either.
Primarily because the rebels didn't have large ships for a long time, and command positions were given to significant allies of the regime's top brass.
Abandoning service on an Avenger-class heavy cruiser in the Empire, Sarin received an assignment to the Alliance's light forces.
Until the Battle of Endor, he served as third officer on a Corellian warship — a corvette.
It was his ship that rescued six remaining members of a Bothan spy team working in Outer Rim Territories.
It wasn't just a rescue — they barely made it to the rebel base and delivered the secret information.
Both the ship's commander and the first officer were killed, the second officer was wounded, and Sarin commanded the entire evacuation operation for the Bothan spies.
After all, they were bringing the Alliance not just information, but data about the new "Death Star" the Emperor was building in the Moddel sector, in the Endor system, in orbit of a forested moon.
Impressed by the Bothans' bravery, he became a staunch supporter of the Bothans and Advisor Borsk Fey'lya.
This loyalty bore fruit.
Besides saving the Bothans, Sarin had participated more than once in battles that were as bloody as they were bewildering — how was it that some "Rogue Squadron" or other, for destroying one or two enemy ships, was completely covered in awards, their names and faces plastered all over propaganda posters, while ordinary military personnel — the grey mass and muscle of the New Republic's war machine — got at best commendations from the Bothans and thus became increasingly loyal to them.
Sarin clearly saw the schism being provoked by the political battles between Fey'lya and the leadership of what was then still a unified New Republic, but he preferred to console himself with the words that his patron was doing everything right to prevent the strengthening of Mon Mothma and her clique.
Subsequent events only showed that neither side was ideal and couldn't hold a candle to the reputation of galactic heroes, as they loved to loudly proclaim.
Fey'lya's treacherous nature was demonstrated by the Bothan himself during Thrawn's campaign last year.
Sarin thought he had chosen the lesser evil, defecting with the crew of an EF76 Nebulon-B escort frigate to the nascent Galactic Alliance, which was opposing the Bothans' political ambitions.
Already in captivity aboard the Guardian, he and the other prisoners were shown the full depth of the treachery of both Mon Mothma and Fey'lya and their associates, who, despite their loud slogans, were making deals with Imperials, Thrawn, Ysanne Isard, and other rather strange individuals to achieve their goals.
Tons of information about how easily the Grand Admiral had led and continues to lead his opponents by the nose, how easily their former political and military idols gave orders to send their subordinates into the thick of it, sacrificing them — needlessly, at that — tipped the scales of Virgilio's, Afyon's, and many other officers' and enlisted men's patience.
And now, here he was, on the bridge of his own Star Destroyer.
Like dozens of other senior officers from among the former Republic and Alliance commanders.
Their families, who had remained on the territory of the Dominion's enemies, had been extracted by the state's intelligence service under Grand Admiral Thrawn to safe territory, and the defectors themselves had received the very recognition that many of them, like Virgilio, had needed.
To give nearly twenty years of service to the rebels, trading a career in the Empire for junior officer positions in the rebel army, and at the turning point of one's life to achieve nothing more than having all your achievements conveniently forgotten, and yourself being nothing more than expendable material in the eyes of command…
That knocks the ground out from under your feet.
And so, stepping onto the bridge of the Justice, Captain Sarin Virgilio, silently listening to the watch officer's report, came to the most unexpected conclusion of all.
Grand Admiral Thrawn was not a stranger to human emotions.
He had offered the defectors justice and honor in exchange for loyal service to the Dominion.
Sarin had received his Justice.
And even though he was now flying to fight not against the Galactic Alliance, the New Republic, or any of the Imperial Remnants behind which, after all, a living and unharmed Emperor Palpatine stood, the commander of the Justice was firmly determined to do everything in his power to demonstrate to the command that they had not been mistaken in giving him a chance.
He had already been given the promised credit of trust.
He had been trained to the standards of the Dominion's regular fleet.
His past merits had been taken into account, and he had been assigned to a position that, considering all his past endeavors, he deserved.
He and the other defectors had been dealt with fairly.
And they could have just as easily been treated like the New Republic military, who, due to Mon Mothma's political stubbornness and Fey'lya's obstinacy, had uselessly attacked the Dominion and Thrawn.
They could have simply been convicted and executed as enemies of the Dominion.
But today, he was on the right side.
Today, in the name of the Dominion, he was dispensing justice.
Condemning and sending to execution the enemies of a state that saw in him not just another expendable soldier to be sacrificed to the madness of politics, but a soldier ready to defend his new home.
Like many other commanders of strike groups, he moved from system to system, conquering the Tesme sector for the Dominion.
Justice and its escort ships were to subjugate the Druulgotan star system, where local lizard-like creatures were active allies of various pirate and smuggler scum supporting the criminal regime in the sector.
Which, in turn, was a supporter of the Zann Consortium, supplying it with fighters and contraband goods from across the galaxy.
Until recently.
One main Star Destroyer and four escort corvettes, supported by two heavy cruisers, would be enough to smash half a dozen armed freighters — the remnants of what was once a large smuggler fleet.
Having tried to flee to the Corporate Sector after losing communications throughout the sector, the bulk of the enemies had flown into minefields and ceased to exist.
The rest, along with the criminals on the surface, would be finished off by Justice and its escort.
The former military of the Galactic Alliance could finally do what they were meant to do, not navigate political intrigue.
Yes, the defectors had been sifted through numerous checks before being cleared for military and service secrets.
They had been distributed to different ships, different formations and squadrons according to their specialization.
But they were all at the front.
Doing what the military was supposed to do.
While the New Republic and the Galactic Alliance played holographic checkers, blind to the threats of consolidating criminal syndicates right under their noses, the Dominion was cleansing the galaxy of filth.
Yes, life in the Dominion wasn't as free as in the New Republic or the Alliance.
But here — it was safe.
The Empire had promised safety to the galaxy but couldn't deliver because the local bureaucrats hadn't wanted it.
The New Republic had continued the same tradition with an even greater scale of corruption, as if making up for thirty years of absence of republican worldviews in the galaxy.
The Dominion had promised its citizens safety.
And it kept its promise, carving out enemies every second.
And the Dominion had also promised the galaxy to destroy its enemies by any means and methods necessary.
And Grand Admiral Thrawn always kept his promise.
* * *
Anyone unfamiliar with galactic astronavigation would probably say that capturing the Tesme sector for the Dominion's needs was a stupid idea.
The Tesme Sector.
In these territories, barely eleven star systems were even remotely known to the galaxy's population.
And even then — only to those who had any business in Tesme, or lived in that part of the galaxy.
Even the sector's location — crossed from south to north by a branch of the Hydian Way — didn't add any importance, significance, or political weight to this territory.
Even during the time of the Galactic Empire, this sector held as much interest for officials as a piece of dried-out meat that had been lying on a windowsill somewhere on Tatooine for three days.
And yet, while preparing to capture the sector, Commodore Antonias Stormaer couldn't help rubbing his hands together with satisfaction.
The Void didn't think quite like an ordinary military man.
The Void thought in terms of trophies and overall profit.
And the Tesme sector was, first and foremost, a profit.
For the Dominion, naturally.
Scouting and charting new hyperspace routes was by no means as simple, profitable, or fast as an unseasoned observer might think.
Every regional route meant a reduction in delivery time for useful and military cargo, which ultimately had a positive effect on the development of the state's overall trade, supply, and logistics system.
The Tesme sector, located in the Outer Rim, besides the Hydian Way, also touched upon many well-known regional routes with its territory.
The Tesme Trace, the Gordian Belt, the Jankus-Tirrell Loop.
All these minor routes pulled together remote systems and provided access to the numerous sectors surrounding Tesme.
They, like the Hydian Way, converged in the Ferria system, which in the distant past had allowed this system to become a trading transshipment point, thriving on its location and cargo transportation.
The planet Tesme, the capital of the sector of the same name, was a fairly well-developed industrial world and an influential political force in the region.
Later, when the internal structure of the Empire changed, an Imperial governor was appointed to the sector.
However, it was known that the governor was corrupt and open to bribes, which created opportunities for the flourishing of criminal activity in some parts of the Tesme sector.
Slavers were allowed to hunt in a number of the sector's backwater worlds without fear of too much Imperial interference.
One such group was the Zygerrian Slavers Guild, which had connections at the Ferria crossroads.
The latter flourished during the Korusk gemstone rush in the neighboring Yavin system of the Gordian Reach sector.
However, when the hype died down, the planet's fate changed, and it became a haven for less respectable species.
Crime here flourished in all the colors and provisions of criminal law from all times and peoples.
Unsurprisingly, over time, agents of the rebels fighting the Empire also turned up here.
During the Galactic Civil War, this was the main transshipment point for supplies heading to the Alliance for the restoration of the Republic base on Yavin IV.
The governor's criminal connivance allowed him to line his pockets, criminals to live it up, and rebels to have decent intelligence and logistically convenient supply approaches.
The Empire made a token effort to eliminate this lawlessness when it investigated the circumstances of the Battle of Yavin.
Sector Tesme had been incorporated into the Bright Jewel Oversector by the Galactic Empire, along with hundreds of other sectors in the Mid and Outer Rims.
This did nothing to improve the situation, however.
The lawlessness continued; even Imperial forces occasionally clashed with each other.
Unsurprisingly, the storming of Tesme and the capture of the Imperial official ruling the sector revealed that he was a clone.
That individual's loyalty was not even up for discussion.
He could not be interrogated — during transport, a sniper shot him and died in the attempt to capture the sniper.
One way or another, Tesme was completely blockaded.
A significant portion of the sector was already under Dominion control, and pirate and other criminal groups loyal to the Zann Consortium were being systematically purged.
System by system.
A courier had just arrived from Captain Afyon, who had finished his work in the Tyrell system.
Thus, both major trade hubs of the sector — Ferria and Tyrell — were under control.
An hour earlier, a similar report arrived from Captain Vigillio regarding his assigned task.
Not much territory loyal to criminals and other destructive elements remained in the sector.
Only two star systems.
Quist, where, according to intelligence, a transshipment base for Talon Karrde's smugglers was located.
And Landora, which, due to the total hunt on pirates, had become the last refuge and base for them in the sector.
The remaining forces loyal to the Zann Consortium and survivors of the border massacre had gathered here.
And the forces here were not the weakest, it must be admitted.
The very fact that half a dozen enemy Kaloth-class battlecruisers and an equal number of Lancer-class frigates were led by a former Imperial-class Star Destroyer.
The Devastator was in the hands of Imperial traitors who had stooped to cooperating with bandits and pirates.
The Void was in complete agreement with the Grand Admiral's stance on fully removing Imperial equipment from the hands of Alliance members, New Republic supporters, Imperials, and various rabble.
"Commodore," a duty officer ran up to him, extending a personal datapad. "The enemy has gone on the offensive."
"Worse for them, better for us," Antonias chuckled, glancing at the tactical monitor.
At his disposal, he had one Imperial-class Star Destroyer, upgraded to Project Trio standards, as well as six Crusader-class corvettes.
At least, that was what the enemy was detecting on their scanners and knew about.
Commodore Stormaer preferred not to reveal his trump card, specially developed for such operations, just yet.
This strike force would be more than sufficient to handle the enemy's problems.
The enemy could not leave the system because of the Dominant-class Star Destroyer positioned in the rear of Stormaer's forces.
Actively emitting artificial gravity fields and jamming long-range communications with a jamming station, the Interdictor forced the enemy to attempt a breakthrough.
The enemy attack.
Antonias scanned the scanner data.
The enemy's numbers matched exactly what the agents had reported and the spy droids had confirmed.
Except for the six Kaloths, everything else was standard Imperial equipment.
The Destroyer, the frigates, even the small craft — these were remnants of a sector group that the local clone moff had kept from deserting.
The fate of the other ships was somewhat known — they had all lifted gravity anchors several years ago and left the sector, vanishing in a direction unknown to most beings.
Commodore Stormaer had no doubt that one day he might encounter the ships of that sector fleet.
But they would bear the insignia of Emperor Palpatine.
"Now that's interesting," the commander narrowed his eyes.
The opponents were one hundred and fifty standard units apart.
The distance was closing rapidly due to mutual approach and acceleration.
Spy droids positioned between the groups were transmitting information from beyond the scanner coverage zone.
And there was something interesting about the enemy's air groups.
A standard squadron consisted of a dozen identical starfighters.
According to Imperial and Republic regulations, squadrons in battle were divided into elements of three to four craft, and their further actions depended on the mission.
In most cases, pilots operated in pairs for maximum mutual safety and effective target engagement.
The Dominion's standard squadron organization reserved the concept of an "element" only for non-combat operations, so it was almost never implemented.
Dominion pilots worked in pairs immediately after receiving a combat mission.
And they trained accordingly.
Now Antonias could see that the enemy had not only irrationally divided their craft into groups of six, but their composition was not identical.
Putting craft with different characteristics into one squadron meant preventing the better craft from pulling ahead of the inferior ones.
No hint of tactics.
As if the battle were being fought not by former Imperial pilots, but by a pack of hastily trained farmers.
What was notable, however, was that among the standard TIE fighters of the Empire, the scanners had picked up the signature of a very unusual member of the same family.
Among the numerous standard models of TIE fighters, there were also very rare TIE Prototype x1s.
A whole squadron.
The TIE Prototype x1 was a design that never went into production, but its developments were used and implemented in later craft with twin ion engines.
A small experimental batch had been produced by order of Darth Vader himself, who, according to rumors, personally participated in briefing Raith Sienar.
Some Imperial units also received craft "like the Dark Lord's," but that was the end of it.
On such a small vessel, Darth Vader attacked enemy starfighters during the Battle of Yavin.
These ships were mainly in the hands of experienced pilots from elite squadrons, most of whom died in the early stages of the Imperial Civil War.
Essentially, the prototypes were improved standard fighters with significant changes in all parameters and, additionally, equipped with hyperdrives.
TIE Prototype (art by Ansel Hsiao: https://fractalsponge.net/?p=2857).
By now, across the entire galaxy, no one had heard of frequent use or even black market sales of this type of starship that had survived to the present.
Even in the secret warehouses created for the needs of Darth Vader's Death Squadron across the galaxy, which Antonias had cleaned out not long ago, there was not a single piece of such equipment.
And that made it even more desirable!
Stormaer barely restrained the urge to rub his greedy hands together.
He had not come here with such a small force, which the enemy intended to destroy, for nothing.
Chasing pirates across the whole system gave him no pleasure, especially given the rumors about the pirates' stockpiles of liquid loot.
Antonias dreamed of depriving the enemy of such a burden.
So he was luring the Imperial ships away from their base on a large asteroid.
The enemy base was well fortified; if he forced the pirates to defend, the matter would take on grim prospects of heavy losses in both personnel and materiel.
And if he could care less about the frankly useless Kaloths, the Imperial equipment...
A fully combat-ready Star Destroyer, frigates, TIE fighters, and TIE Prototypes...
"Distance to the enemy?" he asked the duty officer, returning the datapad.
"One hundred and ten units, sir, and closing."
"Excellent," Antonias nodded, clasping his hands behind his back and approaching the central viewport. "Proceed to phase two of the operation. Transmit the deployment vector and sound battle stations. I need the prototypes in the most combat-ready condition."
When the distance between the opponents closed to eighty units, the pirates realized how mistaken they had been about the attackers' numbers.
Six Crusader-class corvettes and two Star Destroyers, which the Void had revealed to them, were certainly no match for the entire mass of ships they had thrown at them.
Given the position of the "Lurking in the Shadows," there was no doubt the pirates intended to destroy the Fury of the Void and its escort, then force the Interdictor either to flee or to accept battle on unfavorable terms.
However, they had failed to account for three aspects of the problem that had landed on them in the form of the Dominion detachment.
First, both Destroyers only looked like standard Imperial-class and Interdictor-class vessels.
Second, they had now managed to spot on their scanners another ship with Dominion identifiers and transponders that had dropped out of hyperspace at the edge of the artificial gravity dome, behind the Fury of the Void.
And the third reason was that the criminal scum were opposed by the Commodore of the Void.
At his order, the Phoenix-class Star Destroyer that had arrived on the battlefield had already raised its deflector shields, opened its main hangar bay doors, launching squadrons of small craft, and its W-180 ion cannon discharged.
The first ion pulse struck the Devastator's superstructure, pierced its shields, and disabled the Star Destroyer's controls.
The subsequent shot burned out the electronics across the entire ship, including secondary circuits that the enemy had tried to activate to compensate for the loss of control in the superstructure.
Then, when the forces closed to the maximum turbolaser range of seventy units and the order to open fire was given, the sardonic smile on the Void's face reflected the flashes of rapid fire from the Dragon-I's ion cannon, which was firing in rapid succession at the Lancer-class frigates that had tried to flee.
The fast, maneuverable little ships could not match the rate of fire of the second-generation Dragon-class vessel.
By the time both sides had closed to effective firing range, the enemy pilots in the small craft could only tear their hair (if they had any) and weep, calling out to their Dominion counterparts, begging them to spare their lives.
Because the Star Destroyer Fury of the Void was demonstrating its full potential, literally tearing apart the hulls of the enemy battlecruisers, disabled by the ion cannon, to ease boarding parties' entry.
And far ahead, in the flashes of secondary explosions, as the pirate asteroid base was being split apart by another salvo of proton torpedoes and bombs, the pilots of the Scimitars were having fun.
In the time he had served under Grand Admiral Thrawn, the Void had not lost his love for trophies.
He had concluded that not all scrap metal should be hauled to the quartermasters, only the most valuable.
A Star Destroyer, six frigates, and a dozen squadrons of TIE-series craft — that was what was needed.
As for the Kaloths and the base...
Well, that was scrap metal.
Let the simpler trophy hunters collect that.
* * *
Agent Cross's report did not take long.
I had already received his report in advance, along with the operation report conducted by Grand Moff Felix Ferrus.
And this entire "Coruscant saga" undoubtedly stirred ambivalent feelings in me.
But, even worse, it interfered with the plan.
On the positive side: Cross had managed to obtain a lot of useful information, as well as equipment from the experimental developments of Imperial Intelligence and the Imperial Security Bureau.
A detector capable of determining a being's sensitivity to the Force would be very useful to us.
In the past, the Galactic Republic required its citizens to test newborns to identify, among the general population, children whose midi-chlorian count in the blood was higher than that of the average individual.
For millennia, sending such gifted children to be raised in the Jedi Order was considered the norm and even an honor for the parents.
Then, time and again, the Order began to change the rules, separating children from their families, forcing them to forget their past, their parents, and relatives, dedicating themselves solely to serving the Force.
The more the Order changed, the more often it lost its adepts, the harsher it became in its recruitment.
And if in the Core Worlds this was somehow tolerated, because Coruscant was relatively close and the Order's positions were lobbied by the Senate and senators, the situation had only worsened over the last thousand years.
The Emperor's hunt for gifted children and Jedi did nothing to encourage the population to comply with ancient laws and send blood test results to the capital.
That was why Force scanners had been invented.
The Jensaarai Order would have to travel a long and difficult path to convince the Dominion's population that the days when a shadowy Jedi genius claimed exclusive rights to gifted children and removed them from their families were over.
The metropole's PR machine was working at full capacity, demonstrating the difference between the Jedi and the Jensaarai, primarily emphasizing the inseparability of children and their families, but so far it was not producing a landslide effect, and the number of those wishing to develop their children's talents was not very high.
This, in turn, was reflected in the strategic plan to increase the numbers of the Jensaarai Order.
The late Master Umakk, who sacrificed himself and called for the Jedi to come out of hiding, had rendered an invaluable service.
The cipher experts were still struggling to understand how he had managed to encode into his words the information that they should join the Dominion.
But there was no understanding.
The Jensaarai's assistance on this matter was not helping to advance the decryption efforts either.
Nevertheless, the fact remained.
Somehow, the Jedi understood that Umakk was calling them to join the Dominion.
They could not explain it, saying that upon hearing the late master's words, they simply understood what was being asked of them.
I had a hypothesis that this was somehow connected to the Force, but if that were really the case, there was no guarantee that the noble self-sacrifice of the Mon Calamari would not lead Palpatine and his supporters to understand who had organized the guerrilla war on Coruscant and why.
And here we came to the second half of the situation.
The problematic one.
Master Mace Windu had survived.
The only one of the four masters of the last High Council of the Jedi Order who had tried to arrest Palpatine at the end of the Clone Wars.
The Korun who had nearly defeated Sidious but was betrayed by Anakin Skywalker, who had taken the path of the Dark Side and soon taken the name Darth Vader.
A story as old as time.
But that did not make it any easier.
I did not need to read the analytical section of Grand Moff Ferrus's memo to understand how close we had come to a direct confrontation with Palpatine.
"Your actions on Coruscant are highly commendable in the context of diversionary operations," I said, looking in turn at each of the beings sitting before me.
And while Cross's return pleased me, Windu's survival forced a reconsideration of a large part of the strategy, but the third...
Jaden Korr.
Like Galen Marek in my world, he was a hero of a computer game, later becoming part of the literary universe.
The known outline of events suggested that Korr was directly connected to Mitth'raw'nuruodo's genetic experiments to create clones loyal to the Empire from the DNA of Jedi and Sith.
The project, like everything involving cloning the gifted, went awry — the Chiss was unable to account for unforeseen factors, and his laboratory was captured by those very clones.
And, since it was secret, the Grand Admiral's death in the events known to me severed the link between the laboratory and the Empire.
Later, after the end of the war with the Yuuzhan Vong, this caused no small number of local problems.
Still, it was very strange to see this young man here.
Why him specifically, and not someone else?
After all, a considerable number of adult Jedi and Padawans were in hiding on Coruscant.
Were they all dead?
Or was this another joke of the Force?
Let me note this thought — it requires careful analysis.
I do not believe in coincidences; I believe even less in accidents.
If something illogical happens in this universe, it is either part of someone's grand plan (which I have used repeatedly against my enemies) or it is stoically accepted as "the will of the Force."
The latter cannot be calculated or predicted, but it is a well-known fact that the Force sometimes "plays" not on the side of the conditional "main characters," "helping" them with various "visions," sudden revelations, and insights.
Witness my long-ago conversation with Luke Skywalker, who in the cave on Dagobah saw not only the "canonical" vision of his and his friends' death in the maw of the Sarlacc, if Jabba had taken Mara Jade onto his barge, but also a vision of Jade swearing allegiance to me in the throne room on Tangrene.
And, according to him, that was the only vision of me he ever had.
The only one, because he saw the moment when Mara Jade and I communicated without the presence of Ysalamiri, which repel the Force.
If before that meeting and that conversation with Skywalker I merely suspected that the Force was "rigging the game," afterwards I was completely convinced of it.
It was no accident that we continued to breed the lizards in captivity and place them on our ships.
The less opportunity the enemy had to "spy" on us, the more successful the campaign.
Removing the Force from the equation of the galactic conflict meant equalizing the odds.
Mind against mind.
Army against army.
And no more "rigging."
"Our merits are so great that you prefer to be here yourself and keep us in an area controlled by Ysalamiri?" Windu's voice was dry, with an old man's timbre, but he was strong, powerful, and full of confidence in his abilities.
Well, his remark should not be surprising.
Nor should I comment on his knowledge of what was happening.
The Jedi Order's Archive was, by their own claims, the most complete and comprehensive in the galaxy.
Commenting on that statement would only spoil things.
It was logical to assume that since the Jedi, according to Talon Karrde, tried to avoid Myrkr, where the Force-repelling Ysalamiri and the Vornskrs, who used the Force to hunt gifted animals and beings, lived, then the Order, or at least its leadership, understood what was happening there and what to fear.
They probably even studied those effects.
"Trust is tested by time, Master Windu," I said.
"We came here because the Force led us!" Jaden Korr said heatedly. "Master Umakk said we must take the right path, fight the evil that we could not defeat..."
The Mon Calamari's exact words were different, but the general meaning was the same, moving from the specific to the general.
"Thank you for bringing up this topic," I looked into Windu's eyes. "Perhaps the Master would tell me how Umakk managed to convey a message in plain speech, without naming a specific address, yet those who arrived were certain he was referring to the Dominion?"
The Korun raised an eyebrow with an impassive face.
If you removed his gray hair and wrinkles, you could see in him the young Samuel L. Jackson at a Jedi Council meeting.
Still, I had long ceased to be surprised by the fact that well-known personalities in this reality matched their counterparts in appearance and character, as long as my direct or indirect intervention did not break their worldview and value system.
"Carefully chosen words," the Korun explained after a few seconds of silence.
"Using the Force?"
"No," Mace shook his head. "Bre'ano was too clever to use something that could easily be deciphered by an enemy sensitive to the Force. For the same reason, he did not use known codes on the Jedi secret frequencies — after thirty years, they had certainly stopped being secret. For the cipher, he used an analogy with the fencing tactics of the Shii-Cho style. The sequence of movements of the style, transposed onto his words, forms a quite specific message: 'Dominion — the Jedi's hope.' I believe those who came to you of their own accord are mostly Jedi researchers, who used this cipher, as old as the Order itself, to communicate among themselves."
In other words, it was not what we had thought.
But if the Jedi used that cipher, then the Sith and their minions, who underwent similar fencing training, would eventually figure it out too.
"Those of them who were once Jedi — perhaps," the Korun did not deny, hearing my question. "However, Umakk did not use it for nothing. Shii-Cho is the very first fencing style taught. The foundation every Jedi had to master in the Order's training curriculum. It is simple, straightforward, and older than all the others. Jedi researchers, due to the specifics of their work, focused on it and sought to perfect their mastery of just one fencing style. Most other Jedi, and the Sith universally, considered and still consider Shii-Cho incomplete and outdated. So they quickly move on to younger styles. Therefore, Umakk used a cipher with a high degree of protection. I can assume that the majority of Jedi who head your way will, one way or another, be connected specifically with the Order's researchers."
Who were not the fighters I needed.
"I assume you are disappointed," the Korun said, obviously guessing my thoughts. "But every Jedi researcher is, to some extent, a part of the Order's knowledge. You may not get warriors, but those who know the history of the Jedi and their secrets will come to you."
It was too early to judge the pros or cons of Umakk's act; time would tell how effective his idea had been.
"We are not welcome here," Jaden Korr grumbled, looking away and crossing his arms over his chest.
"Your appearance is a surprise," I said diplomatically. "Especially yours, Master Windu. You were long believed dead."
"Falling out of the Supreme Chancellor's office window from five hundred meters up in the Republican Administrative Building and surviving is rather fantastic even by Jedi standards," Cross mused, having preferred to remain silent until now. Throughout the entire conversation, he had been staring at his feet, clearly processing what he had seen upon entering.
Well, that was as planned.
Let that thought take root in his mind.
As for his remark...
For some reason, fans believe that the duel between the Jedi and Darth Sidious took place in his office in the Senate Building. Perhaps because later, Yoda would battle the newly crowned Emperor there. In reality, the situation was different.
When Palpatine came to power as Supreme Chancellor ten years before the start of the Clone Wars, he considered the old office of the head of the Galactic Republic he had displaced too small for his ego. He lobbied for the construction of the Republican Administrative Building, also called the Republic Executive Building, placing it, like the Senate Building, in the Senate quarter. It was there, at the very top, that Palpatine's office was located, where the fateful duel occurred.
Officially, the construction was to provide more jobs for Senate Building staff, some of whose offices were moved to the 'new building' next door.
Republic Executive Building (dome in the foreground)
Where he moved his own workspace.
Both buildings appeared in the films.
"Jedi can survive falls from great heights," said Windu. "I... was lucky. I didn't fall the full five hundred meters. I landed in a speeder whose driver helped me."
"He was my uncle," Jaden Korr chipped in.
"The family of my future student helped me hide, thanks to their... talents," Windu said diplomatically. "When the Empire conquered Coruscant last year, the Force brought us together again. I took Jaden as my apprentice. He is young but learns quickly."
Well, the subtext was clear.
Korr's relative had been involved in not entirely legal activities but helped a Jedi evade the official authorities.
An interesting story.
Let's note that.
"In that case, do you understand why the reception is so cold, Master Windu?" I clarified.
"Did our way of returning to the Dominion disrupt some plan of yours?" the Korunnai said after a moment's pause.
Perceptive.
I hadn't actually stated any reason why this conversation would be unpleasant, yet he either guessed or logically deduced it. Perhaps he would be less of a problem than I initially assumed when I learned he was alive.
"The location where you crossed the border between the Dominion and the Pentastar Alignment was deliberately kept open to return a misinformed enemy agent to the Empire," I explained. "He was told that the Dominion had nothing to do with that ship and its passengers, who were presented as agents of the Galactic Alliance. Your appearance at that precise moment disrupted my plans."
I fell silent, waiting for a reaction.
Cross was thoughtful; Korr furrowed his brow.
"Our actions on Coruscant, the ship we stole, the misinformation you fed to that gifted enemy agent, and the Dominion's neutrality policy—that gives the Empire grounds to believe that you are directly behind the events on Coruscant and the rallying of the Jedi," Windu said.
Yes, exactly.
And I'm not surprised that the experienced Jedi was the first to figure it out.
So he wasn't as rigid as literary sources had portrayed him.
Or had thirty years of exile given him food for thought, as it had for Umakk in his time?
Perhaps over all these decades, some Jedi had indeed started thinking more logically, not relying solely on the Force?
"They have no proof," Cross said. "Direct proof, at least."
"I don't think Palpatine will need it," I said, noting that everything was going as planned.
"If I was identified—and that's almost certain—Sidious will surely want to finish our interrupted duel," Windu grunted with a slight grimace.
"According to my information, he is in a much younger body than when you last met."
"How?"
"Cloning," I explained.
Jaden was somewhat surprised.
"So this technology isn't just...?" he blurted out, but Windu cut him off with a gesture, watching me intently.
"How critical are the consequences of my actions?" he asked, clearly understanding that information about the prevalence of cloning should not be spoken aloud. Those present already knew the score. He was smart enough to realize there was a reason I used vague rather than specific phrases.
"Not counting a direct conflict with the Emperor, who commands nearly half of all combat ships in the Imperial Navy, along with samples of superweapons," I clarified.
Windu's blind eye twitched.
"Is it that serious?" he asked.
"Much more serious," I explained. "Agent Cross was sent to Coruscant to search for information on Lord Cronal, also known as Blackhole or Shadowspawn. A former agent, then director of Imperial intelligence. For a time he was a warlord and was believed dead." I decided not to specify by whom. "However, according to the latest information, he is alive, working from the shadows, serving Palpatine and the Empire."
"We found no trace of him on Coruscant," Cross said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Wherever he's hidden, he wasn't in secret lairs on Coruscant. At least not in the ones we know about."
Well, the hope that Blackhole had already contacted Roganda Ismarek and her stepson, who in the events I knew had lured the Eye of Palpatine out of oblivion, was not realized. That line of events likely remained unchanged. So much the better. That meant we had a better chance that the Emperor's former lover from the Sarcev Quest was where she was supposed to be.
A negative result was still a result. That meant we could rule out her premature emergence from the shadows. Consequently, we could count on some galactic problems not being stirred up by my actions and not falling on my head before their 'time.' And therefore, it could be used to my advantage.
"According to recently received information, Cronal can be considered to be behind the Zann Consortium, which has been rebuilt on Palpatine's orders," I explained, continuing to implement a new combination to replace missed opportunities. "Furthermore, Cronal is also executing his own agenda, focusing on the Tion Cluster. There is probably something there that attracts his attention."
"Inaccessibility and ancient secrets," Windu suggested.
"And here I was wondering if he had died," Cross said through gritted teeth, revealing his feelings about that being. "Do we know where he is?"
"I suspect he is laying low with Tyber Zann in the Corporate Sector or territories further north," I said.
"Sir, I would like to go..." Cross blurted out, then fell silent when he realized what was at stake.
"Cronal is a servant of the Dark Side, isn't he?" Windu clarified. "From Agent Cross's reports, I drew that conclusion."
Well, I should have expected the Korunnai to try and extract more information that way.
"Exactly," I confirmed. "Therefore, if an operation into the Corporate Sector is sanctioned, capturing one of you could reveal the secrets we keep."
"For example, that you are alive?" Jaden Korr asked.
"That secret is becoming less of one, but maintaining it is the key to not having war on all fronts," I explained. "No. What is far more dangerous is that if he intervenes, Cronal could discover the Dominion is waging war against the Empire. And also that we know many of the Emperor's intrigues, which we use against him."
"Sir, I request to be sent!" Cross continued in an agitated tone. "If I face capture, I won't surrender alive! But I must destroy Cronal! You promised!"
"And you, Agent Cross, will not be the first to have the right to accuse me of breaking my word," I declared, not taking my eyes off the Korunnai. "However, I have no right to send you against such a powerful adept of the Force without proper backup. Too much is at stake. Cronal will be tracked down and eliminated. But we will do it in a way that minimizes harm to the Dominion's interests. That, too, was part of our deal, Agent."
But Cross could not stop.
"I must find him and kill him!" he insisted, lowering his voice by several tones. "Again, if I'm captured..."
"You won't be," Windu said firmly, with a barely noticeable smirk. "I will accompany him, if you permit it, Grand Admiral."
Cross visibly brightened.
Then he darkened.
He seemed to grasp the situation as well.
"Are you sure that years of inactivity haven't diminished your combat power?" I asked. "Thirty years is a long time..."
"My teacher won't be alone!" Jaden blurted out hotly. "I've trained for this..."
"You will remain in the Dominion," Windu cut off his apprentice shortly, harshly but without raising his voice. "And continue your training. This mission is beyond your capabilities."
"Master...!"
"I have spoken," the Korunnai cut in weightily, still looking me in the eye. "So, Grand Admiral. Since we've moved on to trust tests, is there anything else I must do to prove that I am not an enemy to you, your subordinates, or the Dominion?"
A clever Korunnai.
Too clever, I'd say.
I hope he doesn't ruin the entire operation.
"Yes, Master," I agreed. "You will go to the Corporate Sector not only with Agent Cross. But first, you have another mission—it won't take long, especially since proper preparation is needed for infiltration into Zann Consortium territory. That preparation has been underway for the past standard week."
"Oh!" Jaden Korr's eyes widened. "But you're not a Jedi... How could you know that Master Windu would agree?"
"It's simple, my apprentice," the Korunnai chuckled. "It was assumed from the beginning. The Grand Admiral simply set the appropriate stage and tested our intelligence."
Like I said—too clever.