Sitting in headquarters and examining the global map of the galaxy, I considered where it was all headed and what I was doing. On one hand, I had already managed to regret getting involved in this whole mess. I don't like politics, and I like it even less when everything has to be taken into my own hands. But could I have acted otherwise? Unambiguously, no.
Given the choice now, I would still get into this mess. Without my intervention—Mandalorian culture was facing a fall, that's clear as day, and they are, essentially, the only and most loyal allies we have left from ancient times. Moreover, they found me and nursed me back to health, for which I give them special thanks. I simply couldn't leave them to their fate.
Just as I couldn't abandon my idea. The Hadian Empire is not just a state. It is the result of the intensive work of many dear friends and family members. I helped create it then—and I will help now; I simply won't rest until a piece of space appears on the galactic map that I can call home. A place where the past will be remembered.
And then there are the Terrans. The surviving followers of my daughter, of my teaching. Their home has long been their native ship, which allowed them not only to survive but to live. They also deserve the right to stop wandering from one planet to another. It's high time they settled down and loosened the tightened bolts on the rules within their community.
By the way, an amusing point. While conducting a force assessment, I was informed that the Terrans not only took other representatives of their species on board but also sent their own to planets in order to free up space. Because of this, in the Outer Rim there is practically no corner where there isn't a representative of the Terrans on the planet.
Leaning back sadly in my chair, I sighed. Fay... she had to appear at just the right time. I had already managed to be glad: now the Republic will fall apart, we'll kick the Jedi around, find the Sith and finish him off, secure support from the TF, and live quietly and gnaw on everyone around us. But no. Some threat or other is still hanging over us.
"Alright, enough wallowing in melancholy, time to get to work," I jerked my head slightly and cast a new glance over the territories adjacent to us. The Mandalorians have already begun clearing the hyperspace routes. Jabba says we've thoroughly stirred up the hornet's nest called "crime," but that's expected. We'll hit them very hard; no lawlessness in our territories—a bandit either submits or goes to the Force.
Furthermore, Mom has already reached the leader of Black Sun and given him a proper beating. At my suggestion, activity has begun in the syndicate. In addition to mobilizing forces, Mom continued the already started collection of information on future senators. Many of the planets have already determined their next representative; others are still choosing. Black Sun hasn't sat idly by and has already been actively digging.
And here, I was pleasantly surprised, for none other than the young senator from Naboo by the name of Palpatine surfaced. Black Sun first tried to bribe him, but it didn't work. Then there was an attempt to pressure him with some compromising material, but that didn't work either. Neither those who made the material nor the material itself now exist; who is responsible for this is also unclear. Unclear for Black Sun agents, but not for me and the Terrans. I transferred all known information to the latter, and the Terrans immediately began searching like hounds that had caught a scent.
Also, having gained control over Black Sun, I asked Donovan to send some sensible support to my mother. Mom is a good bogeyman, as am I, but she won't be able to manage such an organization at all, so it would be good to put someone knowledgeable next to her. To my surprise, none other than Loki, the head of intelligence, flew out to her.
"Well, they know best," I shrugged and returned to work. Shifting my gaze to the inscription "Coruscant," I mentally remembered Fay. The girl should have been in touch by now, but after Kuat there's been no word from her. Good thing she stopped by Kuat first and placed the order for the station. By the way, based on the results of the negotiations, she got the station for half price. Now that's what I call a fifty percent discount.
"We'll know who to send for global purchases," I smirked.
Switching to the Outer Rim, I looked at the planet chosen for the construction of the clone base. Expanding its image, I examined the terrain. A strange planet, I must say. It has very large ice caps, broken by a water strip at the equator. Under the ice in the sea grow algae very convenient for creating nutrient substrates. There are small pieces of land rich in minerals, on which factories can and should be deployed. According to the plan, the planet will become practically completely self-sufficient. Armor, weapons, food—everything will be created on it. Equipment, though, will have to be brought in, but those are minor details. Speaking of equipment.
Setting aside global plans, I descended to local ideas, specifically—visiting our institute. It seemed like only yesterday the departments were united, but the Terran databases and experience, mixed with the enthusiasm of the locals—seriously pushed the projects forward.
"Shade!" Dis rejoiced at my appearance as soon as I crossed the threshold of the common dining room.
"Hi, brother."
"Finally you've stopped by!"
"I hope you have something to please me with. Lately, there's been too little of that pleasure."
"Of course. We'll start with a beer," a can was handed to me.
"Good start," I smirked, taking the can and taking a sip.
"Come, I'll show you something," the Mandalorian called, quickly finishing his lunch and taking another can of the foamy drink with him.
Walking through the corridors, he began to speak:
"I'll start with the droids. We had developments, of course, but after the Terrans appeared, progress shot up like a rocket. For example, have you heard of the HK-series assassin droids?"
"Hm..."
"Something familiar... something very familiar. Right!"
"I remember a certain droid from that series, HK-47 I think."
"Revan's droid," the Mandalorian nodded. "A famous machine in certain circles. Revan modified it himself, which made Forty-Seven one of the best assassins of his time. The HK model itself was released four thousand years ago as an 'assassin-protocol droid' by Czerka Arms. They were the ones who lost the model."
"Get to the point."
"We took that model as a basis and refined it. In the end, we have this," he showed me a tablet with a droid's blueprint. For comparison—there was a reduced image of the original next to it.
The first thing that caught the eye was the modified face. Instead of the original, dog-like one—a typical Mandalorian one with a T-shaped sensor or visor. (Or is this my fashion? I was the first to have such a mask, heh). Next was the chassis. Unlike the original, it was more open and, as a result, the droid had greater mobility. A bonus to the new model was a booster in the back. It wasn't suitable for constant flight, but for jumping high, jumping away, or flying in a vacuum with no gravity—it was more than enough.
The next difference was the armor. The original looked more harmless, but that's understandable. It was created as a killer masquerading as a protocol droid. We, however, are creating a combat model from the start for fighting on the front lines, so the protection on the droid was very important. Plus, since we couldn't churn out many machines, the focus was on quality, right down to beskar-thorium plating. Due to other additives, the beskar had a tolerable consumption per combat unit, but at the same time its addition very seriously increased the machine's survivability without sacrificing mobility. If you blast such a droid with a grenade launcher, there's a high chance it'll just fly back, then get up and shove that tube very, very deep into you.
Since we had good, powerful reactors, we crammed a very powerful shield into the droid. It wasn't a full one; it didn't encircle the machine completely—such a shield took up too much space, and making it smaller would make it weak, which wouldn't do. Therefore, there was one shield built into the arm with several modes. At full deployment, the shield completely hid the droid and left room for someone else. And a small mode—a small shield was formed, hiding only part of the droid. This was done for more convenient storming of places with limited space. The shield itself worked simultaneously in both modes: both as a particle and as a deflector.
In addition to external differences, there were internal ones. A series of protocols were hardwired into the hardware, which physically nothing could be done about. We don't need a machine uprising, and since the machines will be smart—we have to be very careful. After all, HKs are first-degree machines, with the possibility of a creative approach to work. And since they had successfully stolen, saved, and refined databases on killing everyone and everything in their heads, then when creating such an army, you need to be two hundred percent sure of it. Force forbid this horde turns its weapons against you.
As auxiliary means, various units were attached to the droid's shoulders. Portable rocket launchers, blaster rifles, railguns, and even such exotic weapons as the PPC or PBC. Also known as the Particle Projector Cannon. Junk that is considered an energy weapon but hits no worse than kinetics. Since the energy issue was solved by the new reactor, this thing can be fed without problems, and now everything rested on cooling. The better it is, the more effectively the weapon will work and the more often it will fire. Again, thanks to the reactors and our own production lines, we managed to knock down another problem with this thing—the price. Because of this, PBCs started being shoved wherever possible.
On the other hand, pulse-wave weapons were increasingly less in demand with us. Yes, they're simple. Yes, reliable. But having more effective samples to choose from, preference was given elsewhere, although in rare cases they were used. Especially when it came to close-quarters combat.
"Dis, you guys are maniacs," I pronounced the verdict, familiarizing myself with the documents.
"This is only the beginning, brother," he slapped me on the shoulder. "Because there's also this!" He changed the picture and showed me a droid very similar to a scorpion from my first life.
"What's this?"
"AA-T-021 Apophis. A combat autonomous droid created for both support and assault. Reinforced armored plating on top, heavy shield generator—consider it a tank on legs."
"Serious machine..." I shook my head. Six legs, like a scorpion, a similar tail, with pincers—vibro-knives. Cutting armor with those—no problem at all. Small automatic rapid-fire rail rifles are hidden in the same pincers. In size, this thing is like a proper tank—seven meters long, four wide, two and a half high. Also available are jet boosters for moving in space, and a gravity engine is hidden in the belly for overcoming water surfaces. The machine is fully automatic, has three sensors in front. The first and main one—looks forward. The second—is located on top and goes like a crescent along the entire length of the head. The third is located on the tail and has a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree coverage. A bug-eyed monster, what else can you say. And the color to match—black, with red patterns.
"Autonomy—ten days at maximum load. In energy-saving mode, the operating time without recharging increases manifold."
"And who came up with it?"
"The main concept was proposed by the Terrans. In the end, it was refined. At the moment, we're assembling a prototype."
Walking through the work department, noticing something strange out of the corner of my eye, I froze. Turning my head, I saw through the glass a partially assembled prototype of some anthropomorphic machine with very familiar patterns of armor folded nearby.
"Right. And what's this?"
"This is DD-001 Spirit. A machine assembled from start to finish by the Terrans. It's based on the Immortal concept."
"What?" I raised an eyebrow, turning my head to Dis.
"The Terrans learned to place their spirit after the body's death into some crystals, and then into droids. This machine—is the same droid, just much larger."
Flipping through the tablet, Dis found the right project and immediately showed me the concept.
"Hence the name. Piloted by an immortal Force-user. Due to the uniqueness and specialization of the machine, it's assembled from the best components. Right down to full beskar plating, and the personality core with the crystal has its own beskar armored capsule. Even if the machine self-destructs—the capsule will hold."
"I take it you've shoved everything you could into it..."
"Relatively. The Spirit's main weapon is the Force of the adept controlling it. And a saber. The Terrans had already assembled such a machine, but due to lack of necessity, suspended the project. Chief, to be honest, I'm not surprised by anything after that case. when a twenty-ton machine rushes at a speed of a hundred kilometers per hour and performs sharp maneuvers, somersaults, and jumps like an ordinary person—I realized that your friends don't know what physics is and wanted to spit on it."
"He-he-he-he... indeed. And send me the clip; I want to see it."
"Of course."
So, what about the equipment? Well, a full shield, shoulder mounts for installing various turrets, jet boosters. Pulse-wave weapons are built into the hands. On that, essentially, everything; after that, personal taste began and the machine was equipped for a specific owner.
"And that one, what is it?" I pointed to the neighboring hangar, in which they were also assembling a walking machine, but of a completely different design.
"TS-TE Asp combat walker. It's a piloted machine for one pilot," Dis showed me the finished image on the tablet.
An elongated bird-like face with a cockpit, chicken legs with backward-curved knee joints. Instead of arms, there were weapon systems on the left and right. The machine had a modular design and was easily repairable, including in field conditions. Detaching a damaged part and replacing it with a working analogue—no problem at all. Same as changing the weapon. Thus, in one configuration, the unit was purely missile-based. In another configuration, it carried a pair of PBCs with blaster machine guns. In a third configuration, two mass drivers were installed. Also, a mobile shield generator, a jammer, or conversely—a reinforced radar system could be plugged in. A extremely universal base resulted. As they say—they certainly know how to build!
In all cases, an anti-personnel machine gun was attached under the "beak," and several missiles were hidden in the center of the hull above the cockpit. A few flares, two beacons, a pair of missiles with a camera, for reconnaissance. A smoke screen launcher system on the sides was a bonus.
Of course, this machine wasn't as armored as the scorpion, but it was much more mobile. This thing ran obscenely fast for its size—a hundred, a hundred and twenty kilometers per hour, and weighs only five tons more than the Spirit.
"Suppose. What else do you have to please me with?"
"Canderous combat droid-tank. The most armored thing on a repulsor cushion that can possibly be. Carries a pair of large-caliber railguns. Alas, it won't carry PBCs; not enough power."
"Not enough?! How much does this thing consume?"
"A lot. Very much. The main load is distributed between the repulsors and the shields. At the moment, it's the largest unit of armored equipment in our arsenal."
"And how much does it weigh?"
"Eighty-three tons."
"And you managed to put this thing on a gravity cushion?"
"Yep."
"No wonder the repulsors consume so much."
"But it's not easy to destroy either. When landing, it turns into a literal pillbox. Energy switches from the repulsors to the shields and it becomes even harder to crack."
"And who invented it?"
"Our people, from MandalMotors."
"M... I see. What else is there?"
"Returning to the droids, we've created a whole series of auxiliary machines. From small to large, among them is a medical model, construction, loader, astromech, repairman, miner, and many others. They are all based on already known working prototypes; we've only improved them."
"Good..."
"On that, I suggest moving from ground forces to aerial ones."
"Mmm?"
"We've assembled a completely new fighter based on the Basilisk."
"What model?"
"ST Vampire." He showed me a picture. "The fighter has a unique design with four wings coming out of the central cockpit," the Mandalorian pointed to the joints. "They can be extended or retracted for various combat needs. In maneuvering mode, the wings fold horizontally, allowing for increased speed and maneuverability in aerial combat. In this mode, the swivel twin heavy laser cannons are fixed in the forward position. When close combat is not required, the wings open, allowing the weapons to rotate forward and backward. The fighter's hull is quite strong for a fighter, but we didn't increase the armor further, preferring speed and maneuverability. Since this machine is primarily a droid, it can experience G-forces unacceptable for a human even with a gravity compensator. The second modification is designed for a pilot."
"Hm..."
"In addition to the main weapons, the fighter has a dual proton rocket launcher for more effective operation. The armament can be replaced with heavier ones, such as proton torpedoes, which will make the fighter a bomber."
"Looking at this little beast, I don't see the resemblance to a Basilisk."
"Successful Basilisk solutions were used. The main design was reworked," the Mandalorian spread his hands.
"Hyperdrive included?"
"No, but it can be installed in the upper rear hemisphere. By default, this place is reserved for auxiliary modules, such as space mines, sensors, or whatever."
"Is there a prototype?"
"No, we're just starting to assemble the first prototype unmanned sample."
"What else is new?"
"Marauder corvette. Taken from the archives, carefully dusted off, and thoroughly overhauled. A fast hunter of small craft. Here's the data on..."
"No-no-no-no, enough overloading me. You tell me, is it ready?"
"Not yet. But in a month, I think, we can start assembling the prototype."
"I take it the finished samples are out?"
"In terms of hardware—yes. I can show you the weaponry," a list of novelties in this area was brought up, which made my eyes start to wander.
"Right, better another time," I stopped the Mandalorian. "Let's just say, I trust the equipment and development to you."
"Okay."
"You better tell me, what's the status of the factories?"
"We're already producing some droids; others we're just about to start producing. Some factories are undergoing refitting with more advanced equipment. Chief, you better go to Yuri with this; he's the one who'll tell you everything for sure. I only formulate the requests for what we need to do and hand over the blueprints."
"Yes, you formulate the requests, and he clutches his head," I huffed. "I can just see his face when you or one of your people barges into his office and begs for resources for another experiment or project."
"Not without that," the Mandalorian nodded, smiling. "Last time, he shouted 'come to your senses' at me, and he even asked to pacify one of the MandalMotors engineers."
"Why?"
"He dug up the Kandosii-type dreadnought in the archives and suggested reworking it. Even I was stunned by such ambitions, and Yuri... you should have seen his face."
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha... oh, I can imagine."
"Beep-beep!"
"What is it, Ziro?" I looked at the stirring assistant.
"Urgent message. Scouts have found the target: 'Sheev Palpatine.' Surveillance is being conducted."
"Right. Write to Fay again, tell her to contact me and report the results of her labors."
"Accepted."
"And tell Radiy to prepare my KIM, and a few fighters from the Terrans with it. We're flying out soon for the Sith's soul."
"Accepted."
"Dis, on that note, I'll leave you."
"Chief, can I come with you?"
"What, bored?"
"Not at all. Just want to stretch my legs."
"Heh. Another time. Good luck, brother."
"Boss!" he saluted with a half-empty can of foamy beverage.
Returning to headquarters, I packed my things. While I was preparing, Kassh finished another session with Talia. So before I flew out, I pulled the Zygerrian aside for a private conversation.
Briefly questioning Kassh about the results, I learned that there is indeed progress. At least Talia has stopped short-circuiting, however, the program cannot be removed from her head. For that, the personality would have to be completely wiped. Otherwise, if she receives an order from her master again, she will either execute it or finally break. And he can't do anything about it anymore. Not at all.
Now Kassh is trying to understand what went wrong and why the program glitched.
"So, she's fine otherwise?"
"Yes, Master Aero. Talia is in perfect order. Moreover, since the effect cannot be reversed, I have supplemented it."
"Explain?"
"The brain is the same as a computer, just biological. To determine who is master and who is stranger, I use commands. I've made it so that now you are her master and, as a result, she only perceives commands from your voice. To activate the program—it will be enough to dictate this set," Ziro immediately beeped, notifying of the received packet.
"Will be?" I caught the word.
"I'm still working on it. Now she's unconscious and will remain in that state for a couple of days."
"I see..."
"I've told you what we'll get in the end. However..."
"What?"
"When everything is ready, what will happen to me?"
"Nothing. I keep my promises."
"Thank you."
Finally, I visited Talia herself, connected to some apparatus. Then Phobos and Deimos. Promising the boys that this time I definitely wouldn't be delayed for long and would soon be able to devote more time to them, I left the fortress.
***
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