On the bridge of the Drev'starna, the flagship Republic-class Star Destroyer from which Admiral Asyr Sei'lar was commanding, chaos reigned, worthy of a textbook example (if such a category even exists) of a madhouse in the galaxy.
The snow-white Bothan, dressed in an admiral's tunic, silently watched what was happening at the Rendili StarDrive shipyards.
Batteries had just stripped the Super Star Destroyer of its work platforms and scaffolding, and the colossal "symbol of the dictatorship and oppression of the Galactic Empire" seemed to have awakened from hibernation.
Speakers were melting from requests from the dying stations, from the central shipyard office, and even from the leadership of Rendili StarDrive itself.
Everyone wanted to know what madman had taken up residence on the giant's bridge and why he was doing what he was doing.
Scanners showed fighters launching from the planet and from ship hangars in orbit, as well as the Bothan's entire fleet turning toward the "rampant" colossus.
And on the other side, thirty-two starships of the Galactic Alliance were tearing the Golan stations apart, racing to meet a small flotilla consisting of the trophy ships from Grand Moff Kaine's fleet.
"Not exactly what we expected," quietly said the young man standing beside her in a pilot's uniform with major's insignia and a Rogue Squadron chevron on his shoulders. "The Alliance..."
"It's bitter to admit, but our former brothers-in-arms have turned against us," there was genuine pain in Asyr's voice.
"I can't believe that Bel Iblis, Mon Mothma, Solo... that they agreed to this," shook his head the commander of Rogue Squadron, Wes Janson, running a hand over his face.
Like Asyr herself, he was a survivor of that Rogue roster which had been formed back in the days of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, gone through the crucible of the post-Endor formation of the New Republic, liberated Coruscant and Thyferra, fought against Delak Krennel, hunted down the last Grand Admiral of the Galactic Empire...
Only two of them remained.
Anachronisms of the past, elevated to the rank of heroes.
"Are your pilots ready?" Asyr asked quietly, addressing her friend and comrade, the only one she could trust in the New Republic.
And he trusted her the same way.
"These guys are definitely not Wedge, not Horn, not Jax, not Celchu, and not even you or me," Janson grinned bitterly, understanding that the ace pilots gathered from all over the New Republic, though individuals in their own right, still fell short of the "standard roster" of Rogue Squadron. "They can do more than the rest, but they don't measure up to us..."
"They'll learn," Asyr wanted to believe it but knew she was deceiving herself. "Every pilot who survives a battle is a veteran with decent experience who will be stronger by the next engagement."
"Yes, that's a truism. But I'd be much calmer if Duplex had told us what security measures against boarding he applied secretly from us," Janson grumbled.
Asyr didn't answer — she also wasn't in the know.
Right now she was watching the Galactic Alliance fighters, breaking ahead, easily crushing the New Republic's small craft.
The enemy fleet's air arm, cobbled together from everything available, mixed the shipyards with space dust, struck starships, and clashed in battle with the Galactic Alliance pilots.
While E-wings and X-wings fought the Republic's small craft, bombers and interceptors terrorized ships and yards.
Star Destroyer hulls burned on the slipways.
Cargo barges, tankers, drifting workshops, and service ships exploded.
The Galactic Alliance was waging total terror.
"Our opponents have prepared well," Janson said bitterly, pointing Asyr to a section of the battle where a squadron of X-wings with Galactic Alliance markings had engaged in mortal combat with identical machines of the New Republic. "I don't know how, but they managed to teach their pilots a considerable number of Rogue tricks. If we weren't standing here, I'd definitely think we were fighting for the Alliance..."
Asyr nudged him imperceptibly with her elbow.
"This isn't the place to recall the details of our Dominion captivity," she reminded him of a not-so-bright page in their biography. "We need to make every effort, but not allow the Reaper to leave the system."
"Hold it until Duplex arrives?"
"We'll do the maximum we can to keep things going according to plan," the Bothan stated categorically. "I'm sending my forces against one of the enemy groups and engaging them. I'm sure the second enemy group will form a screen between us and Kaine's ships to cover them while they pass through the guarded perimeter."
"And our foes have plenty of surprises waiting after this," Janson chuckled.
"Let's hope the plan works as it should," Asyr said dryly. "You and your boys will have to work in the thick of it."
"As always — the best warm-up for Rogues," Wes gave a playful salute, turning toward the exit of the Drev'starna's bridge. "Take care of yourself, Asyr. We just need to buy time..."
"That too," she agreed. "But it would be better if we managed on our own. And yes, you take care of yourself too."
Exchanging silent glances whose meaning only they understood, the former Rogues returned to their direct duties.
* * *
The small crew in the Reaper's command cabin took their places at battle stations to meet the attack with dignity.
They had no desire to have long, close conversations with the New Republic's pilots.
"The ships have formed into a group," Rederick was informed.
"What's their status?"
One Super Star Destroyer, two Imperial-class Star Destroyers, three Vindicator-class heavy cruisers, and three Lancers.
If these starships were fully crewed, they would be enough to tear the Rendili StarDrive shipyards inside out while using the two dozen Republic-class Star Destroyers on patrol as appetizers.
He didn't even want to think about the corvettes and frigates supporting them.
"The Rendilian workers and shipyard security forces have been suppressed," the communications officer reported. "Automatic systems are engaged, and some of our troops have taken control of artillery."
Which meant they couldn't even form a proper defensive perimeter.
Even if the ships concentrated all their combat-capable guns on a single vessel, they wouldn't achieve its rapid destruction.
It seemed the enemy invasion commander thought the same, so escort squadrons were moving to meet the evacuating ships.
Exactly what was needed to fend off the approaching small craft of the Rendilians and the New Republic.
"Order to close formation and maintain interval of ten units," Rederick commanded.
"Yes, sir!"
"You're a real space wolf," Vex clapped her hands theatrically.
"Don't get underfoot," Rederick snapped, not in the mood for jokes. "Better take control of the patrol droids. I want no enemy left on the ship."
"But we've killed them all, haven't we?" Aveka clarified.
"Do I need to remind you this isn't the first Super Star Destroyer the Dominion has stolen from under the New Republic's nose?" Rederick asked. "Or do you think the Rendilians are such idiots that they didn't take precautions to avoid a second embarrassment?"
Last year, the Dominion had also stolen the Lusankya from under the enemy's nose, right here at the Rendili shipyards.
And although the New Republic didn't have the total militarism of the Galactic Empire, underestimating the enemy was still a recipe for defeat.
Especially since intelligence reports indicated the enemy had taken measures to "provide the saboteurs with surprises."
Exactly what kind — the agents hadn't been able to find out.
So it was logical to prepare for everything going wrong at the most critical moment.
At least, that's what Rederick would do if he were planning a dirty trick for saboteurs.
Mr. Ghent and the technicians had already checked and rechecked the most obvious spots for a "setup" the reactors, engine room, and drive compartments.
Including the only backup hyperdrive on board, which also turned out to be fine.
Because cutting the ship's power and propulsion at the moment of readiness to jump into hyperspace or flee beyond the protected perimeter of the Rendili planet's shipyards would be ideal.
That was precisely why Rederick had ordered the depressurization of most of the ship.
If enemy boarding parties or counter-boarding teams were hiding in some secret compartments, they were in for trouble.
The procedure of evacuating oxygen from a ship before battle to reduce mass and improve maneuverability hadn't been used in a long time — millennia, if not tens of thousands of years.
Ever since starships got power sources that could provide a surplus of energy for powerful engines, this trick was no longer relevant.
On the contrary, it was even harmful, because depressurization required venting the atmosphere into space.
And restoring pressure, an oxygen-containing atmosphere on the decks, and a tolerable temperature would put a serious strain on the life support system.
Which actually had very substantial limits on its functioning and limited resources.
But Rederick believed that in the current situation, the risk of a lengthy repair and replacement of key elements of the life support system on the Reaper and all the stolen ships was justified.
On each of them, they had vented the atmosphere outside the zones where crew members were located.
Turned off gravity, heating...
Maybe it was a pointless procedure that would have to be answered for, but it was better to be safe than to have to overcome a problem right under one's nose with the risk of failure.
The agent, smiling sweetly (which meant very unpleasant consequences for Rederick), armed herself and, after contacting the naval special forces commander, headed for the bridge exit.
Rederick, looking through the main viewport at the blossoming plume of an explosion on the Reaper's armor, winced.
"Increase countermeasures against enemy fighters!" he demanded. "We don't need to be bombarded with proton torpedoes!"
Especially not when they were halfway to the defensive perimeter of Golan-type defense stations, which had once again failed to protect the Rendili shipyards, and which had been breached by Dominion ships.
* * *
The girl stepped through the doorway, the door closed, and although the air in the corridor was no different from what had been in the warehouse, it was much easier to breathe here.
But she shouldn't forget about the surveillance cameras.
Or, more precisely, about the possibility that they might be here.
Dani moved forward slowly, never lingering too long in one place, as if she really intended to find out whether the Rendili soldiers who'd arrived on the warehouse complex grounds were planning anything.
At least, that's how it should appear to anyone monitoring her actions — and there was no way she wasn't being watched.
For now, the game of being a turned agent continued, and even though the pulse transmitter had activated and kept sending its signal without turning off, the girl made no move to stop it.
Maybe it's just a test.
Maybe the message is incredibly huge.
But either way, the Zeltron woman had no intention of announcing to the whole world that she was a traitor.
Not yet, at least.
So let the pulse transmitter keep working, effectively broadcasting her location.
Stepping out of the cameras' range in the corridor, the girl glanced at her comlink.
Yes, that's right — the connection was still unavailable.
The Dominion soldiers had done a thorough job making sure no one in the entire area could use standard communication systems.
And it was cleverly done, too — signal jammers aren't so easy to find and triangulate!
Which meant the Rendili troops wouldn't waste a ton of time hunting down the comlink jammers.
They were professionals — they could communicate with gestures.
But how, she wondered, was she supposed to explain to them that she had nothing to do with what was happening?
Announcing herself as a hired intelligence agent for the Galactic Alliance wasn't exactly a great idea either — she could get shot on the spot for that.
Opening the outer door, she cautiously looked around.
Well, how naive.
She'd thought about trying her luck getting to an aircar and escaping in it, relying on speed.
Yes, the vehicle would get damaged, but it'd be better to get away in a busted car far from an obvious setup than to just stay put at the location of an enemy transmitter.
A transmitter broadcasting who knows what, to who knows where...
The girl weighed her chances of escaping from the ill-fated warehouse to the car, but a second later she decisively dismissed that idea.
Simply because her trained eye noticed a slightly sagging bundle of wires underneath the aircar.
"Oh, those bastards!" she grimaced.
The car was clearly sabotaged.
If she sat in it, it would either explode or be completely unable to move — and then she'd either be killed by security droids or captured by the local soldiers...
A rumbling sound came from above.
She looked up at the sky, seeing only the underside of a troop transport moving toward the roof of the building.
"Decided to come in through the roof, huh?" she voiced her thoughts aloud, heading back into the corridor.
A plan formed almost instantly.
They weren't just going to jump onto the roof, were they?
They'd rappel down on ropes, open ventilation windows, service hatches, or something, and then start storming the building from above.
And the transport certainly wouldn't leave right away, which gave her a chance to use the drop cable, climb onto the transport, hijack it, and get away.
Not bad for a plan, right?
"A gamble that might just work," she muttered, heading back into the building the way she'd come.
She nearly gave herself away when, turning a corner in the corridor, she almost ran into the back of a soldier clearly guarding the passage.
Judging by his gear — a Rendili soldier.
Light armor, a helmet that had prevented him from hearing her creep up from behind.
Knocking him out took a moment.
Dragging him further down the corridor, stripping him, and pulling on his uniform took two minutes.
Putting on the unlucky soldier's helmet, she caught a fragment of conversation on the squad's frequency.
"Looks like the comlinks work at short range," the girl realized, checking that her own communication device was still as useless as before.
.".. all entrances and exits are blocked, no one found."
"The pulse transmitter is connected to the warehouse complex's industrial power grid."
"Do we know what it's transmitting?"
"No, sir."
"At least do we know 'who' it's transmitting to?"
"Definitely somewhere in Galactic Alliance territory near Molavar or the Rishi Maze."
"Not to ships?"
"Definitely not. The first signal might have gone to orbit, but we won't know until we crack the transmitter's server."
"Let the SB techs handle that. Cut its power! And have the second group land. Third and fifth squads — start storming the objective and destroy the guard droids."
"Yes, sir."
Oh... Bantha poodoo!
So there was another group in the transport?
That meant her plan definitely had to change on the fly.
Hmm... the Rendili soldiers were going on the attack, right?
And she was in their uniform.
Maybe she could slip through behind the guard droids and get away without drawing attention.
Well, it seemed like it was time to head back to the exit.
The girl quickly made her way toward the exit, where sounds of intense gunfire were already coming from.
"And I'll report to command via transport that the Alliance is clearly involved here. Bravo-Seven to Bravo-Three. Transmit my message to Command."
"Done, sir. Live feed..."
Oh, these Rendili soldiers.
Always trying to inform their superiors about every little thing.
They figured that if something unexpected happened to them, at least the information from the scene would get through.
The years go by, but they never change.
Alright, she'd heard enough.
"The transmitter has been located. It's been found transmitting some data to Galactic Alliance territory. No personnel found, beginning extraction of the device for closer..."
Dani didn't hear the rest.
Just like no one in the warehouse rented by Dominion agents managed to hear the Rendili special forces squad leader finish.
The multiple explosions of the explosives built into the "repaired" warehouse shell didn't just bring the roof and walls down on the Rendili soldiers' heads.
The primitive homemade slug-throwers hidden in the corridor's outer walls tore the Zeltron woman's body apart the moment she stepped beyond the collapsed building, from which only the small box of the auxiliary entrance she'd used to get onto the grounds remained.
Dani's life ended three meters from the burning, smoking building when an "Mi"-type guard droid, following its programming, finished off the critically wounded Zeltron.
The combat machine, having confirmed the being's death, continued its work repelling the attack.
Of course, the droids had no chance of winning.
And Dani had no chance of protecting herself from the investigators' conclusion that there was no direct causal link between the known Alliance spy from the Nagai-Tof war and what was happening on Rendili.
Dominion intelligence, as usual, ended up being the last anyone would suspect in this situation.
And the Noghri death commandos, who'd carried out dozens of sabotage operations across the planet, went safely to ground and left Rendili two weeks later, when the local security service's vigilance had slackened.
* * *
The Galactic Alliance fleet emerged from hyperspace, deeply committed in the Rendili system, with no way back.
The Calamari's sensors showed an unfinished Super Star Destroyer and a stirred-up swarm of enemy fighters buzzing annoyingly around it like gnats.
Just as the Yavin group was shredding another defensive station, Captain Irvin noticed flames erupting from the Reaper's hull.
"Looks like the enemy is successfully wrecking the ship," muttered Aut-O's head.
"Well then, do something to keep that tub safe!" Irvin said irritably, still sitting in the command chair studying the tactical battle display. "We're not paid to shout 'It's all over!'"
"I should think not," the tactical super droid turned on its pivot and looked at him with its artificial 'eyes'. "Our fighters are already driving off the enemy's small craft."
"Well, that's just wonderful," Irvin said. "So we need to destroy as many of them as possible."
Right.
"The greater the enemy's losses," Aut-O recited, "the higher the commission for Kavil's Corsairs."
"I like Tyberos's logic," Irvin warned in a dry tone. "The more money we have..."
"The more we'll spend," the metal head said. "Note the fighter reformation at point two-two-seven. They intend to make a fast breakthrough to our flank and attack the star cruiser at the far end."
"Tell the pilots, let them handle it," Irvin ordered.
Honestly, he wasn't entirely happy with this situation, since the previous assignment he'd had to interrupt was more in line with his long-term goals.
Thrawn had promised him that raids aboard the Calamari would help him find Vane's killer.
But to do that, he needed to attack the enemy's rear — the Galactic Alliance.
Not the New Republic.
Yet he had to obey.
At least the crew aboard the Calamari was still the same, from among Kavil's Corsairs' employees.
But what bothered him most was the fact that he didn't know who he was fighting side by side with.
Except for the crew of the second MC90.
Unknown.
Literally.
Mercenaries, droids, or regular Dominion troops — no information had been provided about that.
He and the Yavin hadn't been told what General (yes, capitalized!) was commanding the operation, what purpose two MC90s served here when this same commander had three dozen Mon Calamari star cruisers.
And what in all the Hells were they fighting exclusively on ships that had made their name in rebel service?
Even the pilots had been provided by the Dominion — along with the spacecraft.
What he was seeing now looked more like an episode from the Clone Wars.
Fighters were popping up from everywhere — even from the flight decks of defensive stations, rising from the surface, not to mention the landing decks of the New Republic's Star Destroyers.
The attackers could boast a far scarcer number of their own aircraft, and even that was almost entirely engaged with enemy small craft, except for one squadron left to cover the Galactic Alliance cruisers.
The Yavin was currently pressing the Rendili ships, clashing with the ships covering the shipyards.
Ten Republic-class Star Destroyers on one side, fifteen star cruisers and one battle cruiser on the other.
Quantitative superiority was obvious, but at the same time, it was worth noting that the Republic-class ships, compared to the MC80 models of all types in the Yavin group, had more firepower.
Only the flagship itself could fight on equal terms with the enemy's newest Star Destroyer; the rest clearly fell short.
Irvin was about to help, but Aut-O stopped him, reminding him that there were still ten Republic-class ships approaching the Dominion's future prizes from the opposite side to catch the saboteurs in a pincer.
And it was this group — apparently led by the enemy's flagship, a Star Destroyer named after the capital city on Bothawui — that the Calamari flotilla would have to hold off.
So it turned out that the Galactic Alliance fleet, split in two after breaking through the defensive line, was diverging in opposite directions.
Both flotillas were supposed to stand firmly in the path of the enemy's destroyers, guarding the ships captured by the saboteurs.
Then, while retreating, they were to join up and cover the starships' withdrawal from behind, buying the time the Reaper needed to accelerate for a hyperspace jump.
The enemy could, of course, try to follow, knowing that damaged ships couldn't make a long jump with a minimal crew on board.
It was logical to assume the attackers had a plan for a short stop to replenish their numbers aboard the Executor and the other stolen ships.
It was to prevent the enemy from giving chase immediately that both Gravstrikes — reportedly captured at the Battle of Makem Te and hastily repaired, crewed entirely by droids — would hold their posts for as long as they could.
The longer the enemy couldn't jump into hyperspace, the more chance the retreating ships would have to actually make a short jump, change course, and vanish in the opposite direction, confusing the enemy.
That was probably when the "replenishment" of the captured ships' crews would happen.
Irvin wasn't sure of that because no one had told him anything about it.
It seemed like the starship would just continue on its way with whatever crew members were already on board.
Meanwhile, the battle was heating up.
The Reaper, slow even at cruising speed, was moving away from the wrecked shipyards like a giant bantha, exchanging lazy salvos with enemy ships.
It had chosen the nearest New Republic Star Destroyer as its target.
But the Super Star Destroyer's unhurried shots didn't destroy the enemy, only dealing barely noticeable damage.
It was also slowly, without correction, rotating along its long axis, and flames gushed from a dozen breaches in its armor like blood.
No escape pods were visible — undoubtedly, the damaged ship's commander thought he could handle the damage.
On the Galactic Alliance side, the commanders obviously weren't suffering from that kind of devotion to duty.
"What cowards on those ships?" Irvin fumed, watching two damaged MC80a Liberties, having lost their shields and taken numerous breaches, instead of withdrawing from battle and recovering, begin ejecting hundreds of escape pods into space. "Do they think I'm going to fish them out?"
Not to mention the multiple transport ships that erupted from its depths, moving in the opposite direction of the Yavin flotilla's advance.
"Highly unlikely," Aut-O stated. "With eighty-seven percent probability, this is part of the General's plan."
"Wait a minute!" Irvin leaned forward, peering at the system's tactical map. "Two more of their ships have been damaged."
"And they're also ejecting escape pods along with transport ships," the tactical super droid chimed in.
"But the ships keep moving toward the enemy!" Irvin exclaimed, startling his subordinates.
The abandoned starships seemed to gain a second wind, having thrown at least part of their crew overboard.
And they charged at the enemy again, peppering them with sporadic fire from all their guns.
But the small craft and escape vessels those star cruisers had jettisoned...
"Correct me if I'm wrong," Irvin muttered, watching how neatly the escape pods and transport ships fleeing the shipyards were being caught by the tractor beams. "But... are we seeing a crew replenishment happening on the fly for the Reaper and its escort?"
"That's correct," Aut-O confirmed. "It seems the General has solved several problems at once with this method."
But the best part of what was happening came when three ships abandoned by their crews rammed one of the enemy fleet formations at full speed.
And in a blinding triple flash, they turned into scrap metal, a field of debris that hindered the maneuvering of the other New Republic starships.
"I wholeheartedly applaud this General," the talking head declared. "To think everything through so efficiently..."
You had to give credit where it was due.
Captain Irvin wasn't about to argue with that.
The enemy hadn't just been outplayed — they'd been crushed like spare change.
* * *
"Sir," Captain Pellaeon was maximally composed, correct, and at the same time encouraged. "Spy droids report enemy ships approaching along vector Alpha."
"Vector Beta?" I clarified.
"Likewise."
"Consequently, the Republic's trap-plan is working as anticipated," I concluded, stroking the ysalamiri's back.
"Yes, sir."
"I see no point whatsoever in denying the enemy the chance to fall into an ambush," I stated. "Activate the gravity wells on the 'Dominating' and prepare my flagship for battle."
"Yes, sir! Shall I inform the 501st Legion to be ready for boarding actions?" Pellaeon asked.
"If you would be so kind, Captain, please do," I requested. "After all, my plan also requires ships from the New Republic."
"Yes, sir!"
The Guard commander turned sharply on his heel over his left shoulder and, with almost boyish eagerness, rushed to the 'pits' to personally ensure the flagship was ready for the flotilla's 'sudden' appearance.
Sometimes it occurred to me that the actions of pitting the New Republic and the Galactic Alliance against each other didn't fit into the original plan to prepare the 'champions of democracy' for the future invasion of Palpatine and his hordes.
Yes, shedding unnecessary blood would be foolish, whichever way you looked at it.
But the problem was that the existence of two 'champions of democracy' the Republic and the Alliance — introduced a certain dissonance into my plans.
In particular, the Alliance's insatiable desire to attack the Dominion, as well as Fey'lya's ideas about using my state for his own base purposes, spoke for themselves.
Yes, Palpatine was immeasurably dangerous.
Monstrously cruel.
Hideously cunning.
But he was a strategic problem.
The Alliance and the Republic were tactical problems.
And since they had so easily and effortlessly managed to crush the Imperial Remnant's initiatives for their own destruction and had moved on to productive and fruitful counter-offensives, there was a chance they could achieve 'canonical success'.
The very success that had resulted in the destruction of almost the entire fleet of 'super'-class ships and technologies, the explosion of the planet Byss with all its population, and the destruction of Palpatine.
Yes, the Imperials weren't saints either, and the number of worlds they had destroyed or ravaged during the resurrected Emperor's campaign was also considerable.
However...
The problems of the democrats didn't concern the Dominion.
Of everything that would happen to the restored Empire, what weighed on me most was the loss of the super-dreadnoughts, not to mention the scientists and their inventions that had perished along with Byss.
I had worked on the plan to counter Palpatine well enough to understand that at the right moment, I needed to be in the right place to 'skim the cream'.
And to do that, I didn't need another victory for democracy in the Core Worlds.
If the Galactic Alliance and the New Republic clashed — which was the whole point of the Rendili operation — it would give the Emperor or his underlings a reason to attack without waiting for Palpatine's agents to prepare the ground.
Neither side, except for the Dominion, was currently ready for the appearance of the Emperor's hordes.
Therefore, the less prepared Palpatine's, Fey'lya's, and Mon Mothma's troops were, the more they'd get bogged down fighting each other.
Of course, Palpatine wouldn't attack the moment he learned what had happened at Rendili.
Not even this month.
He would watch the Galactic Alliance and the New Republic sink their claws into each other, test each other's strength, and only when the temperature of their conflict went critical would the Resurrected Emperor's campaign begin from the Deep Core.
Which, in turn, would allow the Dominion to implement its own plans and initiatives to strengthen its borders.
And to resolve the issues surrounding the existence of the Zann Consortium and the Silri Syndicate.
A plan within a plan, inside which there were several more plans.
You shouldn't start a campaign with only one goal — today's politicians and military figures were used to that and could easily find the double bottom of their opponents' schemes.
But where there was a 'triple' bottom or more...
Well, there you had big problems with comprehensive analysis of the political and operational situation.
While the enemy thought they'd figured out my plan, it would unfold the way I needed it to.
In the end, I needed to deny the enemy even the possibility of getting support among the criminal syndicates.
Not that I envied the fact that my opponents had allies and I didn't...
I simply hated it when my enemies tried to use me.
But I did the same to them successfully.
After all, that's what it all came down to.
* * *
Aboard the Republic-class Star Destroyer, the battle stations alarms had already fallen silent.
The First Fleet was racing through space, having received data about an incursion into the heart of the protected territory — the forge of the New Republic's military spacefleet.
"Admiral," Borsk Fey'lya's face was almost twisted with rage. "The Galactic Alliance has made its move. They've attacked..."
"I noticed that," Admiral Argentis Duplex replied calmly, studying the received data alongside the New Republic leader's hologram. "Admiral Sey'lar's has sent me detailed information on the invasion force. Thirty Mon Calamari star cruisers, two MC90-class battle cruisers, two medium Strike-class ships rearmed into interdictor cruisers, and a large number of motley — modern and otherwise — aircraft."
"And they're aiming to capture the Reaper! We can't allow..."
Borsk Fey'lya's holographic image flickered and vanished for a moment, a reminder that the New Republic HoloNet wasn't as perfect as one might wish.
A ripple of interference ran across the returning hologram.
The sound, however, never came back.
Argentis looked at the communications officer, but he just shrugged, indicating that the technical problems weren't his doing.
"If only once someone would save a commander from the boring chatter of a Bothan," the Zeltron thought.
In general, he didn't understand the reason for Fey'lya's panic.
After the New Republic's counteroffensive had bogged down in positional battles against the Pentastar Alignment's units, which had shortened their front line, all that was left was to wait for the rear to ramp up production of new ships and fighters to bring them into service and launch another attempt to attack and liberate Coruscant.
Maybe they could have pushed further, capturing Bilbringi, which at that point was the only full-cycle shipyard under Imperial Space's control.
Her capture would have spelled crisis for Orinda's military machine, since no amount of money would be enough to purchase military equipment from abroad and then also maintain it...
He whose army depends on supplies from other states and even neutral planets is doomed.
From this perspective, the New Republic's position—purchasing its fleet exclusively from its own shipbuilding planets, and its armored vehicles, weapons, and so on only from domestic suppliers—is strategically advantageous in case of shifts in foreign policy.
It's difficult, practically impossible, to hide the repair of a ship like an Executor-class Super Star Destroyer from the galaxy.
Especially when you're repairing it not on Kuat, but on Rendili.
Granted, the Rendilians are New Republic contractors, but they also continue working on civilian orders, so hiding from the public that the former Reaper is about to be finished and will lead the New Republic Defense Fleet is simply impossible.
And therefore, it would be extremely foolish not to accept the offer from Admiral Sey'lar's and the commander of the new Rogue Squadron, Wes Janson, to prepare for the inevitable.
Yes, of course, they prepared for the Dominion or the Empire trying to get their hands on the Reaper, two Star Destroyers, and half a dozen heavy cruisers and Lancer-class frigates that the New Republic had captured in battles against Grand Moff Kaine's fleet.
No one expected the Galactic Alliance to attack...
Especially since they were bringing their new ships here — MC90 cruisers and Gravstrike vessels.
The latter were considered a top-secret development, one that even Bothan spies couldn't get access to.
It would be interesting to see what the engineers and counter-intelligence officers could pull from the wreckage.
Either way, the trap had worked.
And the aggressive nature of the Galactic Alliance has been confirmed on the galactic stage.
They attacked a democratic state that had shown them no aggression.
Now, while their forces are being drawn inside the defensive perimeter of the Rendili shipyards, Argentis will bring in two squadrons of five Republic-class Star Destroyers each to help.
They will block the hyperspace exit vectors for the hijackers and, together with Sei'lar's fleet, squeeze the attackers, pinning them against the Golan platforms.
After which, they will land boarding parties, however small, on the starships and take prisoners.
And they will be aided in this by the very "secret countermeasures against saboteurs and boarding actions" specially placed aboard the ships in great secrecy by the best specialists in smuggling, programming, and weapons from New Republic intelligence, which will kick in as soon as the starships leave the protected perimeter of the Rendili shipyards.
And then the true nature of the Galactic Alliance will be revealed by the New Republic to the entire galaxy.
Heroes of the Rebellion who became traitors, stabbing their own former comrades in the back — that's not what the galaxy expects.
The Galactic Alliance will splinter into its constituent parts and cease to exist, and dozens, if not hundreds, of sectors and systems will return to the bosom of the New Republic.
The holographic image of the head of state flickered and vanished.
Well, at least there'll be less of the pompous Bothan's speeches to endure.
Though, to be fair, Fey'lya, while an unpleasant, slimy individual, was the only one in the entire government of the former New Republic who, by hook or by crook, strived to hold democracy together against the cruelty and treachery of the galaxy.
The abrupt disruption of hyperspace travel came as a surprise to Admiral Duplex.
He, like the other members of the bridge watch, couldn't keep his footing, but managed to grab hold of a protrusion on the holographic terminal at the last moment and didn't go flying towards the main viewport.
He hadn't even regained his balance when his flagship shuddered, taking one hit after another against its hull.
The air smelled of burning wiring, and the blare of the combat alarm buzzed in his ears.
"What's happen—⁈" Argentis saw the commander of his flagship, who was shouting harshly for his subordinates to return to their stations due to the ship being under attack.
No one answered him.
But by then, the admiral had already looked at the main viewport himself.
Just as a white-green blast from a heavy turbolaser destroyed the bridge of the flagship of the First Fleet of the New Republic.
Across the course of the five Republic-class Star Destroyers, shielding a Interdictor-class Star Destroyer with its hull, an Executor-class Super Star Destroyer hung regally in the void of space.
And, unlike the Reaper, this ship was fully functional, and judging by the fact that within ten seconds of battle, the flagship of the Republic fleet had been rendered combat-incapable, it was also fully armed.
But the crew of the Guardian wasn't concerned with such trivialities as the opinion of Republic soldiers.
They were simply doing their job, dousing the five Republic-class ships with ion-turbolaser fire, seasoned with anti-ship missiles, and nullifying the Republic's belatedly scrambling air cover with ubiquitous TIE Interceptors.
The battle for possession of the Reaper was in full swing, but only one side knew that the Republic's trap would never be sprung.
Neither side.
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