Nine years, ten months, and three days after the Battle of Yavin…
Or forty-four years, ten months, and three days after the Great Resynchronization.
(Five months and twenty-three days since the arrival).
— I believe there is no need to state that, once again, Thrawn has outmaneuvered us, — General Bel Iblis declared, opening the extraordinary session of Coruscant's provisional government. — One of the two search parties sent to Wild Space to locate Thrawn's forces, which withdrew from Mustafar, was routed and captured by him.
— Brilliant, — Councilor Fey'lya snorted. — I merely step away to my homeworld, and you allow such egregious miscalculations in our struggle against this insolent Imperial!
— You are hardly in a position to lecture those present on the difficulty of opposing Grand Admiral Thrawn, — General Madine retorted. — No commander of the New Republic can yet boast of defeating the ruler of the Dominion.
Mon Mothma diplomatically tapped her gavel on the wooden stand:
— I request that those present adhere to the rules of decorum, — she declared, casting a sharp glance at the trio of speakers.
Leia Organa Solo sighed with regret.
"It seems the meeting is devolving into a squabble once again."
"All according to Bothan politics…"
— This information broker, Talon Karrde, — Councilor Fey'lya said with contempt, — how many times now has associating with him led to our defeat?
— Karrde's actions are in no way connected to the asteroid bombardment Coruscant endured, — Bel Iblis stated. — He informed us of large asteroids he observed at the Yag'Dhul shipyards. His information aligned with what we gathered from our fleet's attacks in the Coruscant system, the orbital mirror, and other sources. The fact that we lowered the shield simultaneously, without considering that Thrawn had the financial resources to deploy smaller asteroids as well, is entirely our oversight.
— I wonder if there will be any repercussions, — Fey'lya remarked caustically.
The Corellian flinched.
— I do not shy away from responsibility for what happened, — he stated, looking at Mon Mothma.
— We all understand that losses are inevitable in war, — Leia said diplomatically, seeking to support her acquaintance. — The government also bears responsibility for not forcibly evacuating the civilian population. None of us are free from mistakes.
— I believe we should refrain from further self-flagellation, — General Madine noted. — We must move forward.
— I agree, — Mon Mothma said. — General Iblis, how dire is the state of our Mustafar trophies?
— The Death's Head, unlike the others, remains structurally sound, — the Corellian replied. — The other ships, aside from the Strike-class medium cruisers, were clearly not assembled at Kuat's shipyards or under their licenses. The Sluissi have already begun addressing critical issues on the starships. In two to three weeks, everything should be in order.
— Around the same time, the Lusankya will also be commissioned, — Mon Mothma recalled.
— I intend to deploy her sooner, — Bel Iblis said unexpectedly. — Our reconnaissance vessels detected movements of several Imperial combat units near Lianna. There is suspicion that the enemy is aware of our intentions. In that case, it would be prudent to strike earlier than planned.
— When? — Fey'lya perked up.
Leia and Bel Iblis exchanged glances.
— The exact date has not yet been determined, — the Corellian stated.
Leia endeavored to maintain an impassive expression.
"In truth, she, Han, and Garm had discussed an approximate date for the attack on Thrawn's ally."
But for some reason, the Corellian chose to keep it confidential.
— Yet you are already amassing ships at the strike point, — the shrewd Bothan narrowed his eyes. — You're holding something back…
— The Supreme Commander is not obligated to disclose details of planned operations to anyone, — Madine remarked. — He merely informs us of the ultimate outcome of his strategy. Given that we still have not identified the source of the information leak, keeping this information confidential is the best option.
— Is that so? — the Bothan slowly looked into the face of each councilor present. — You're playing an interesting game, councilors, — his fur rippled in waves. — Just remember, this game can be played by two.
***
The return to the Dominion was neither grandiose nor ceremoniously staged.
No time for that now.
The participants of the battle do not need to be celebrated every five minutes, especially in the tiresome expanse of space.
For that, they have three days of leave, two of which have already passed. Judging by how long the local restaurants have been "closed for special service," Ciutric IV and its population are clearly managing to address the leisure needs of the fleet personnel returning from combat.
Curiously, the military commandant's office is somewhat disappointed that the brigs remain empty…
I stood before the vast panoramic viewport, gazing through a small piece of transparent glass at the star rising beyond the horizon…
— Four thousand officials… — I repeated.
— Four thousand sixteen, sir, — Grand Moff Ferrus corrected me. — That is the precise number of corrupt officials within the bureaucratic system of the Ciutric Hegemony.
— Two-thirds of the active bureaucratic apparatus, — I noted. — Are the investigations ongoing?
— Affirmative, sir, — the Grand Moff confirmed. — Show trials, asset seizures, confiscations, labor camps… A portion of the stolen sums has been recovered, and the remainder is being addressed by seizing the property of the convicted, their families, and associates in favor of the state. This applies in cases where a direct link between the stolen Hegemony reserves and acquisitions has been established. Surprisingly, such measures resonate with the common populace of both the Hegemony and the Dominion as a whole.
— Not measures, — I declared. — Delayed retribution. Do you have sufficient personnel to prevent the bureaucratic apparatus from collapsing?
— Of course, sir, — Ferrus replied. — Otherwise, there would have been no point in starting.
— Do the newly acquired territories pose concerns in any regard? — I inquired.
— Surprisingly, no, sir, — Felix stated. — The local residents have long lived under lawlessness or corruption. We are receiving numerous requests from planets and settlements asking us to send advisors to establish functional local governance. Additionally, it is a positive trend that the local population readily cooperates with law enforcement and reports the abuses of the old regime. In other words, work is underway, control is in place, and there are prospects for development.
— Is Moff Getelles still seeking a meeting with me? — I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear the perspective of the man responsible for maintaining the Dominion's internal policies and controlling the situation during crises.
— Yes, sir, — Felix replied, not hiding his disgust. — I had a brief conversation with him.
— And what impression did this man leave on you? — I inquired.
— Frankly, sir, after speaking with him, I felt the urge to scrub myself clean, shed my skin, and replace it with synthflesh, — Ferrus said irritably. — Sir, I've seen many despicable sentients in my life. Fawning, cunning, deceitful, nitpicking, incompetent, clingy… But for all of that to exist in one individual, and taken to the absolute extreme? No, I've never encountered such a thing…
— Are you categorically opposed to dealing with this sentient? — I clarified.
— Affirmative, sir, — Ferrus stated firmly. — Honestly, I would propose that you strike the Antimeridian sector and bring it under Dominion control.
— Is that so? — I asked. — And why have you come to that conclusion?
— Tol Getelles assumes we would be enticed by the Loronar Corporation's shipyards located in the sector, — Ferrus said.
— The manufacturers of Strike-class medium cruisers and Torpedo Spheres, — I reminded myself.
— Precisely what he's talking about, sir, — Ferrus confirmed. — He proposes attacking Loronar, seizing their facilities, and placing them under his governance. In exchange, he is willing to fully pledge allegiance to the Dominion and bring the entire sector with him.
— Is that so? — I smiled, turning away from the viewport. — And does Moff Getelles truly control the entire sector?
— Sir, the Antimeridian sector is nothing more than a fragile confederation held together by the fear of local governments of the dozen Star Destroyers Getelles possesses, — the Grand Moff sighed. — He is a tyrant who parasitizes what he has. Nothing more, nothing less. He once thought he could join us, then turned to currying favor with the Prince-Admiral, even transferring some of his fleet's medium cruisers to him. Now he's ready to grovel at our feet, so long as we help him saddle his cash bantha. Because Loronar has enough forces and resources to repel his attack. And the fact that they sell their products to nearly any buyer means they'll have plenty of allies if needed, including the New Republic.
— When he first proposed supporting my campaign, I conducted inquiries about this man through our agents on Coruscant, — thank you, Delta Source, for providing a cover to leverage my foreknowledge. And thank you, Chiss intellect, for allowing me to restore order in small ways. — Despite receiving his rank due to diplomatic successes, Getelles, as you rightly noted, lacks intelligence. Almost immediately after his appointment to the Antimeridian sector, he promoted his friend over several other officers and gave him command of the sector's armed forces.
— Yes, I reviewed his history from the Dominion Intelligence archives as well, — Ferrus admitted. — Colonel Astarion also filled in some gaps. Getelles was among those who declared independence from the Empire after Endor, but within a few years, having lost much of his fleet, he began currying favor with Orinda and Kaine, offering them his sector. Had your campaign not begun, he would likely have continued pestering the Imperial Ruling Council and gained their favor. Now, he is of no interest to anyone, lacking both the firepower and the confidence to launch a major assault on nearby New Republic-controlled bases. He could try with his dozen Star Destroyers, but he prefers to play defense. A wasteful use of resources, sir. That is why I propose we attack and requisition his ships.
— That would be unwise, Grand Moff, — I stated. — Consider the consequences of such a move. A tactical victory at the cost of a strategic defeat.
Ferrus paused, visibly reflecting.
His expression suggested he was thoroughly analyzing the information.
After five minutes, during which I enjoyed a cup of caf, the Grand Moff concluded:
— We would gain the Star Destroyers, but at the cost of a reputation as those who attacked a man seeking to be our ally.
— Underhanded and immoral, wouldn't you agree? — I clarified.
— Politics has always been a cesspool of the most refined psychological refuse of sentients, — Ferrus noted diplomatically. — We're hardly angels from the moons of Iego…
— True, but we focus on eliminating direct threats to the Dominion, — I smiled. — It would be difficult for the New Republic to justify condemning my punitive operations against the H1 faction, Warlord Delurin, and Ennix Devian, not to mention the others. They are barely known on Coruscant, if at all. None of them petitioned to join the New Republic, as Prince-Admiral Krennel once did, so our adversaries would look foolish trying to play that card. But attacking Getelles after he practically licks our boots is another matter entirely. That fact could be exploited for propaganda. The New Republic is quite adept in the information sphere, distorting facts. So far, we've outmaneuvered them by creating tangible problems and backing our propaganda with real actions. An attack on the Meridian sector would require a substantial justification.
Which has not yet presented itself.
But it will, inevitably.
— The Imperial Ruling Council may be displeased that you've eliminated Imperial factions, — Ferrus noted. Judging by his words, he had abandoned the idea of attacking Getelles. Good. I don't need that yet. Only for now.
— Orinda made a mistake by formally allowing me to retain the title of Supreme Commander of the Empire, — I smiled. — That position grants me the authority to eliminate threats to Imperial Space. Devian and H1 are undoubtedly threats. Delurin is a textbook traitor who deserves his execution. Any attempt to condemn my actions would only erode the Council's credibility.
— And it simultaneously strengthens our own position, — the Grand Moff said, turning to his work computer.
He spent a few seconds locating the necessary data crystals on his desk.
— I've only just managed to integrate the N'zoth, Sprizen, Venin, and K'vath sectors when new applications arrived, — he sighed. — Besides the Antimeridian sector, Agamar and the Lahara sector have expressed interest in joining the Dominion. Requests have also come from the local governments of the Korosi sector — the insectoid Prolifers and humanoid Efans — expressing their desire to align with us.
— Only two species in the entire sector? — I asked, surprised.
The Korosi sector, along with Lahara, lies between Oplovis and Venin, both recently annexed.
— The sector is unremarkable, — Ferrus grimaced. — Only five known systems, with just two inhabited — Prolifera and Efan. They lack advanced technology and live in insular communities. Stable hyperspace routes are scarce. The sector only gained galactic attention due to the capital system of Korosi, home to the Korosian phoenixes — magnificent creatures often kept as pets by the wealthy. Otherwise… the sector's systems are lifeless. The Prolifers are capable ground fighters, employing tunneling tactics to undermine enemy positions. Essentially, they're large ants. The Efans are an entirely peaceful species. Both recently faced a food shortage, which some non-governmental Ciutric funds addressed by supplying provisions. In response, their ship crews delivered a message. It seems the locals are in a deep crisis, turning to the Empire for aid, despite generally disliking it…
— In other words, the sector is of no interest to anyone? — I asked, intrigued.
— None whatsoever, sir, — the Grand Moff confirmed. — On the contrary, it would be a burden to the Dominion, likely becoming a subsidized region.
— Is that so? — I smiled.
— Supporting them would require vast amounts of food supplies, — Ferrus stated. — From an efficiency and logistics standpoint, it's a nightmare. Even the New Republic prefers to ignore them…
— Which means we could establish stations in the sector's uninhabited systems, perhaps even a fleet base, — I noted. — A covert facility, easy to secure, wouldn't you agree?
Felix smiled.
— Yes, sir, — he agreed. — There's merit to that. But it would require significant investment to establish.
— Yet, in return, we'd gain an entire species that only asks for food supplies and can provide labor battalions capable of digging tunnels, underground bases, or even mines? — I clarified. — With Agamar's loyalty and the Dominion's food production programs, is food supply truly an issue for us?
— Honestly, I only considered the Prolifers from a military utility perspective, — Ferrus admitted.
— A mistake, — I remarked. — With our cloning cylinders and recruitment efforts, we have enough soldiers for both the front lines and internal territories. You should focus more on internal affairs, Grand Moff. Lahara and Korosi not only allow us to solidify our borders but also enable control over nearby regional hyperspace routes.
— I've already considered that, sir, — the Grand Moff said. — But there's also the Tragan Cluster. Like Korosi, it lies between Oplovis and Venin and is part of a critical hyperspace route — the Selonanian Spur — connecting Oplovis, Lahara, and K'vath to the broader Dominion. Controlling this segment of the Spur would allow us, in the event of a blockade, to halt up to half of the transport flows heading to Imperial Remnants like the Pentastar Alignment and Imperial Space.
Tragan, Tragan… A familiar name.
— Shaum Hii — a former New Republic member, — I recalled from Delta Source. Not long ago, a couple of senators discussed the locals' desire for neutrality to avoid falling victim to a Dominion raid.
The cluster is practically on Ciutric's doorstep…
But, like Korosi, it's a barren sector with, at most, one inhabited system, the others of no interest. Even to us.
The residents of Shaum Hii pose no threat, so I never considered them a target.
There are no Republic military assets there, not even a local army. The world thrives on its large cattle markets, popular in this part of the galaxy.
— If the cluster joins us, the Dominion's core would encompass ten sectors, — I noted.
In truth…
In just over half a year, I've built a state comparable in size and power to the Imperial Remnant as it will be in a decade…
— Baron D'Asta has expressed interest in negotiating the integration of his sector into the Dominion with autonomous status, — Grand Moff Ferrus added with a smile. — Within the next day, he intends to arrive on Ciutric IV for a personal meeting.
— That wasn't in the communiqué you sent, — I remarked.
A prudent move from Ragez's perspective — aligning with the strong.
But a catastrophic misstep in choosing sides in this conflict.
The Baron has effectively declared his support for me over the Imperial Ruling Council. Quite intriguing, considering that during our post-Mustafar conversation, he made no mention of such intentions.
Either his plans have changed, or something else has occurred for him to distrust encrypted channels.
It's unlikely that a few assassination attempts on his life, thwarted by guards disguised as his bodyguards, prompted this move.
This will be a very interesting conversation, I suspect.
— Apologies, I couldn't resist the surprise, — Felix said, spreading his hands. — Before your return, my head was spinning from everything happening. At least a hundred systems and sectors have sent requests to establish diplomatic and trade relations. Most are territories that broke away from the New Republic, but there are also a fair number of neutral systems and sectors, like Tammuz-an.
— Not bad, — I assessed. — However, let's not forget that the Dominion's expansion was primarily aimed at the northern territories — the Meram, Korva, Mieru'kar, Bosf, and Kanz sectors…
These Force-forsaken regions, even during the Empire's reign, were only nominally part of Palpatine's domain.
After Endor, they became hotbeds of separatism, bases for slavers, and bandit groups. Taking them on would raise no objections.
For me, it's an opportunity to gain more territory with minimal effort, more planetoids with resources, and more ways to shorten our perimeter.
The plan envisioned the Dominion's defense perimeter as a metaphorical horseshoe, with cloaked asteroids and fortresses guarding our borders from the galactic south, east, and west, while the north would be conditionally protected by the galaxy's edge.
That region is rife with powerful gravitational distortions and black hole clusters, allowing us to maintain a minimal garrison there.
At least for the near future.
By the time the Yuuzhan Vong arrive, the perimeter there will be formidable — as will the Dominion's borders, surrounded by impenetrable minefields stretching parsecs deep.
— Intelligence has just completed gathering data, sir, — Ferrus said, his tone somber. — The Meram sector is divided among the remnants of the Cavrilhu Pirates, Thalassian slavers, and over a hundred smaller bandit gangs hiding under every asteroid in the system. A similar situation exists in the Mieru'kar sector. Our agents have managed to establish rapport with nearly all leaders of peaceful residents. There's preliminary agreement to join the Dominion, but… the population on these planets is sparse, as many species have emigrated…
— That doesn't absolve us of the responsibility to clear these frontiers, — I noted. — For the time being, I'm halting our privateers' and corsairs' raids. Auxiliary forces will assist you in this.
— Who better to hunt pirates than pirates themselves? — Ferrus smiled.
— Why else did we need the Cavil Corsairs, the wolf packs, and the rest? — I asked. — They're well-trained enough to hunt their former business associates, so there'll be no issue eradicating these criminals.
— You know best, Grand Admiral, — Ferrus said diplomatically. — The Bosf sector shows the most progress. It's extremely remote from all major routes. Despite rich mineral deposits, the Empire restricted their material exports to the Corporate Sector. After the local moff was expelled, that ceased to be the primary goal of local mining operations. The 'corporates' imposed a sort of blockade, and the locals lack the ships or means to hire them.
— They're willing to join the Dominion if we break the Corporate Sector's blockade? — I asked, intrigued.
— Precisely, — Ferrus sighed. — Based on the resources extracted there, there's nothing extraordinary — we can mine similar materials and minerals right under our noses. Plus, there are rumors that the 'corporates' are building their own fleet and army…
— Intelligence confirms that, — I assured him. — But not for themselves. The Zann Consortium is arming.
— In other words, engaging with the Bosf sector carries risks, — Ferrus noted, stroking his chin. — The 'corporates,' and Zann's fighters…
— Don't trouble yourself over it, — I suggested. — I'll handle the Bosf sector issue. Intelligence will address it.
— As you command, sir.
— The Kanz and Korva sectors, — I reminded him.
There could be countless reasons for my interest in these sectors (especially Kanz), but few are truly valid.
The Kanz sector holds two points of interest — an asteroid once home to a Sith Lord's base, one who mastered living without the emotional outbursts typical of the Dark Side.
Darth Vectivus, his Sith name.
But more importantly, he's long dead.
And now, that base is occupied by a rather troublesome woman known as Lumiya… Quite a thorn in the side, honestly.
Beyond Lumiya's base, there's something else significant in this sector.
The Bimmiel system, once a base for Yuuzhan Vong scouts. Remnants of their biotechnology remain there, perfect for testing the first samples of our biological weapons, based on the pollen of semi-sentient trees from Ithor.
— Intelligence sees no major obstacles to incorporating the sector, — the Grand Moff stated. — A few slaver and pirate strongholds can be neutralized quickly. Otherwise, it's fairly mundane… except for the infrastructure and population density, which, like most Outer Rim worlds, is sparse.
Nor should it be otherwise.
The Kanz sector lies on the Yuuzhan Vong invasion vector.
Due to its strategic astrographic position, low population density, and sparse hyperspace routes, it will serve as the fortified region where Dominion forces halt the invaders and prevent their advance into the core.
It will demand colossal resources and effort, but there's no alternative.
Abandoning the Dominion to its fate is the worst possible idea.
Failing to seize and control these territories, leaving them to local bandits or the New Republic, is equally untenable.
If left unchecked, this region will become one of the first footholds conquered by the Yuuzhan Vong in fifteen years.
And it's here they'll begin reaping the first trillions of galactic casualties.
— Has the data on the Korva sector changed? — I asked, noting the shift in the Grand Moff's expression.
— No, sir, — he replied dryly, realizing an unpleasant conversation was unavoidable. — The same mix of Republic, Imperial, and smuggler signatures. We've noted movements of several large ship groups. Spy droids identified at least one Imperial-class Star Destroyer and over twenty Strike-class medium cruisers. Their bases vary, with no direct contact, suggesting multiple factions. Additionally, our equipment detected New Republic military ships — at least three squadrons of X-wings…
— You need not continue, Grand Moff, — I stated. — The presence of enemy traces in the sector is sufficient for our regular fleet to intervene. Forward all available data on the Korva sector to the Chimaera — we'll address this minor issue immediately.
— It will be done, Grand Admiral, — Felix assured me. — If I may, I have a proposal inspired by rumors about what Ennix Devian did with the habitable sphere.
— Turned it into a mobile headquarters with repair facilities and a production base, — I recalled Commodore Shohashi's report.
— As I understand, the station is in a deplorable state? — the Grand Moff clarified.
After a series of internal explosions nearly tore it apart, the habitable sphere endured many difficult hours as tens of thousands worked urgently to prevent its collapse during transit.
It didn't fall apart, of course, but over half its internals are now somewhere between the Ghost Nebula and the Dominion. What remains will require extensive repairs.
Very long.
And very costly.
— Correct, — I agreed.
— Sir, may I request that all remaining industrial equipment be removed from the station and allocated to our orbital workshops and shipyards? This would allow us to…
— This would enhance your productivity and efficiency, — I said, anticipating his words. — That order has already been issued. The equipment sets will be delivered to their recipients shortly.
— Thank you, sir, — Ferrus said warmly. — The lack of even one production complex was significantly hindering our ability to restore and commission ships.
— Speaking of ships, — I noted. — I believe we should discuss some changes concerning the metropolitan defense fleets…
***
Joshua silently placed a datapad before Lady Santhe, its screen displaying lines of reports.
Many reports.
— What is this? — Lady Santhe asked, not looking up from her own documents.
— The Republic has begun moving troops in our direction, — Joshua said. — Scout ships, auxiliary starships, a significant number of escort vessels, and carriers. They're being recalled in small numbers from their bases, supposedly for rotation, redeployment, and the like.
— It could be routine troop movements to patch holes left in their forces by the Grand Admiral's actions, — Lady Santhe noted. — I trust you're aware that, after the New Republic's ambiguous hints that Thrawn was destroyed at Mustafar, he delivered a substantial blow to their fleet somewhere near Wild Space's borders.
— Yes, — Joshua agreed. — I'm also aware that, at best, we'll receive no more than a dozen capital ships for support. That's insufficient to fend off even a mediocre fleet, and the New Republic is clearly accelerating repairs on the Lusankya. I suspect her first engagement will be a clear operation against us…
Lady Santhe paused her review of her documents, staring intently somewhere to the side, as if trying to grasp a fleeting thought…
— Prepare all available company assets for combat, — she said curtly. — Begin training our personnel to repel a hypothetical attack.
Moff Victus felt a surge of clear disappointment.
Coupled with irritation.
— Ma'am, — he said patiently. — Our combat pilots and security forces are clearly insufficient. Hastily trained company workers won't stand a chance against the New Republic's professional pilots. We urgently need to request aid from the Empire.
A bitter smirk appeared on Lady Santhe's face.
— See how it's turned out? — she asked. Judging by her tone, it was clearly rhetorical. — I scared off all the Imperials, and those I bribed can hardly be considered combat-ready.
— We can always appeal to Grand Admiral Thrawn for help, — Joshua said. — I'm certain he wouldn't refuse…
— "Wouldn't refuse," — Lady Santhe's lips curled into a contemptuous smirk. Yet, beneath the seemingly amused gesture, a sense of doom was palpable. — Of course he wouldn't. I even spoke with him — a day ago. No one has ever humiliated me like that.
— Thrawn humiliated you? — Moff Victus said, stunned.
No one had informed him of this.
If true, then naturally, no one would hold back…
— Not directly, of course, — Lady Santhe quickly dispelled his doubts. — It's more a reputational humiliation…
— I'm not sure I follow…
— When we met here, — she tapped her fingers on the desk, — in this very office, Thrawn spoke almost prophetically. About the New Republic's actions, the involvement of the Lusankya, and the Republic fleet's invasion… It all came to pass. And back then, he offered to solve our problems in exchange for one orbital assembly workshop. I refused. He then said I'd come to him for help myself. But this time, he'd take what he wanted, in the quantities he desired. And yesterday, I heard his "modest requests."
— That information didn't reach me, — Joshua lamented.
— Naturally, — Lady Santhe snorted. — I ordered the fact of the negotiations and the communication session data to be kept secret. I don't need even my most loyal personnel knowing what discussions I'm holding when a client's representative arrives for an inspection.
— So, he asked for too much? — Joshua inquired.
— All three orbital assembly workshops, — Lady Santhe said. — Access to all the company's technical developments. Exclusive rights to produce company equipment without restrictions within the Dominion's borders and for its needs… What audacity! — Valles flared.
— Thrawn never misses an opportunity, — Moff Victus agreed. — But perhaps we should meet him halfway… Give up a little to preserve the rest?
— A little, you say, — Valles repeated caustically. — And then wait for every Imperial Remnant to attack us to get what they want? How long before Imperial Space sends a fleet to Lianna? Or the Pentastar Alignment? Are you suggesting we wait until we lose the independence we fought so hard to achieve?
— Lady Santhe, we have no other choice, — Joshua insisted. — We can threaten to use all the company's resources for defense in case of an attack, but…
— Prepare the personnel, hire mercenaries, anyone, but under no circumstances must the New Republic or anyone else gain control of Lianna or our industrial capabilities.
Joshua opened his mouth to continue the argument but met Lady Santhe's gaze. It brooked no compromise with her orders.
— As you wish, — Victus relented.
He left the corporate leader's office in a state of disarray.
It took just a few minutes to reach his own office.
The Moff crossed the spacious room and collapsed into his chair, staring blankly at a single point.
Lady Santhe was a strong-willed woman, and persuading her otherwise was nearly impossible.
— Judging by your expression, Moff, Lady Santhe clearly dismissed your arguments, — a voice remarked.
Its source — a tall, well-built man — stepped from the shadows of the far corner, revealing himself to the office's occupant.
— As you predicted, — Joshua nodded affirmatively.
— You realize where this will lead? — the man asked, settling into the chair opposite.
— We'll be crushed and nationalized, — Moff Victus said through gritted teeth.
— Willing to serve the New Republic? — the man asked with a smile.
— I stood at the foundation of Lianna's independence, — the Moff slammed his fist on the desk. — I won't let all our efforts go to waste!
— In that case, — the man smiled, — I have a unique and highly intriguing proposal for you…
***
— Overall conclusions? — I inquired. — Did anyone manage to design a ship's layout better than you?
Shipwright Ryan Zion leaned slightly to the side, ensuring the hologram of the nineteen-kilometer giant slowly rotating between us didn't obstruct our conversation.
— I'll admit, the ship incorporates some highly intriguing technical solutions, — the shipwright said reluctantly. — Energy fields to block boarding forces, autoturrets, turbolift deactivation, a decent automation system… Though the ship is cobbled together from scrap, there's much to consider and ways to improve my other projects.
— In other words, Dressed in Amber will never leave drydock? — I asked curiously.
— Oh, no, no, no, it'll definitely be completed, — Zion protested vehemently. — I'm not about to degrade this project just to endlessly refine it. In my opinion, the most optimal modernization systems should be applied to flagship vessels, like the Guardian and… well, that other one.
— How does the Executor, built by the H1 faction, compare to the Guardian? — I clarified.
— Like all Star Destroyers assembled from scrap, this ship will require significant repairs and refitting, — Zion grimaced. — The Guardian has been fifty percent repaired by its crew. Since it came into our possession, readiness has increased to ninety percent. But given recent innovations, I'd propose upgrading the Guardian's equipment. I've reduced the required crew from two hundred eighty-one thousand to one hundred twenty…
— Like the Crimson Dawn, — I noted.
— Exactly, — Zion confirmed. — All bulky redundant systems have been scrapped, internal spaces repurposed and reoriented. Through automation and increased usable space, I've upgraded the anti-starfighter defenses from two hundred fifty to five hundred launchers, half of which remain anti-ship. I've also doubled the anti-starfighter and anti-missile defenses. To the five hundred light rapid-fire guns, I added an equal number of beam anti-aircraft cannons — our equivalents to the guns on Consortium Crusader II-class corvettes. The main artillery remains unchanged, especially since we had to deplete all our reserves — even those supplied by raiders — to fully equip the ship. The air wing has been expanded to thirty TIE squadrons, with provision for a separate hangar for your personal escort forces — though it can hold no more than a squadron and a few shuttles. The troop complement remains the same. However, I've increased the number of landing craft and planned for droideka units. I'd also propose using Separatist Droch-class boarding ships for delivering boarding teams. They're designed specifically for that and are well-suited for deploying droids. But, — Zion averted his eyes, — delivering these ships would require a rapid-fire mass-driver or railgun…
— I see you're intrigued by Mandalmotors' mass-driver technology, — I noted.
— Such weapons could be used for both projectile delivery and deploying troops onto enemy ships or stations, — Zion explained. — Cooling system drawbacks can be mitigated by low firing rates — after all, with such armament, the Guardian could breach any defense with its artillery fire.
— Very well, — I agreed. — How long would installing such a system take, and what's its range?
— In a vacuum? — Zion seemed surprised by the question. — Until it hits the target. Without friction or braking systems, it could launch any object indefinitely…
Now it's clear why he fell so easily for the range trap.
For kinetic weapons, asking about range is largely pointless — once fired with acceleration, the projectile will travel for a very long time. Of course, there's some deceleration — space isn't entirely empty of particles.
But unlike laser, turbolaser, or other energy-based weapons prone to dispersion, kinetics will reach the target intact. And deliver their payload.
Yet it's no coincidence the shipwright dodged my first question.
— So, installing such a weapon would take considerable time, — I concluded.
— Installation itself isn't too long, — Zion admitted. — The issue is creating it first. And preparing the necessary space within the ship would require… about two additional months.
— You have far more time than that, — I stunned the man.
The shipwright looked at me suspiciously.
— That's a hint, isn't it, sir? — he asked after a moment's silence.
— Indeed, — I didn't prolong the intrigue. — The Guardian must be combat-ready in a week, as originally planned, without the mass-driver. You can experiment freely with the second super star destroyer. It'll also allow for a full refit.
— But that's at least six months of work! — Pain flashed even in Zion's artificial eye. — There's so much to overhaul…
— You have enough workers to handle all current projects, — I stated. — If needed, provide us with your best personnel for cloning, and we'll increase your workforce tenfold.
— Yes, sir, — Zion sighed, resigned.
It seems he desperately wanted to implement all his ideas in the Guardian, leaving the H1 super star destroyer's refit to another team.
— Have your technicians inspected the habitable sphere Commodore Shohashi delivered? — I asked.
— Yes, sir, — Zion said, his mood darkening. — The idea of equipping a station of that diameter with shipyard facilities, complete with full-cycle production… I believe Ennix Devian didn't come up with it himself. Based on the remaining compartments, equipment, and workmanship, I'd say the sphere was designed for this purpose from the start. There's less makeshift work in the dock equipment than one might expect. Whoever built this project was likely inspired by rumors that Grand Moff Tarkin constructed a super star destroyer inside the Death Star to better protect the construction site…
Zion suddenly faltered, then looked at me.
— The Guardian was part of the Oplovis sector fleet, wasn't it? — he asked.
— Correct, — I nodded.
It's amusing to watch someone who spent weeks inspecting the ship only now connect the dots.
— And Despayre, located in quadrant L-5, is where…
— Exactly, — I confirmed. — The Death Star was constructed near the Oplovis sector. Whether the Guardian was built inside that station or not is of little concern to me now.
— Yes, I understand, — Zion nodded. — But… it's actually a good idea — building stations, much smaller than the Death Star, equipped with, say, a few drydocks and…
— Stop, shipwright, — I requested. — Restoring that station to its original state would be a financial sinkhole. The equipment from the habitable sphere will be allocated to our orbital workshops and shipyards. That's the most practical use for it.
— But… that leaves just the hull, — Zion said, puzzled.
— And the reactor and hyperdrive, — I agreed. — You see, shipwright, in light of recent events, I'd like you to do the following…
***
Vill Goir no longer recalled the life he led before swearing allegiance to Emperor Palpatine.
He was considered the highest-ranking member of the Dark Side Elite, second only to Executor Sedriss QL.
Thus, by the Emperor's will, he was the best of the seven under the Executor's command.
The man never feared debating the Executor or voicing his opinions, believing in the necessity of radical measures to achieve their master's goals.
Now, striding toward his starfighter, the Executor's deputy tried to decipher the Force sensations troubling him.
He had no doubt that Lady Santhe would fulfill the order, whatever it was. Unlike the cowardly Moff Victus, the corporate head knew the client's true identity and wouldn't dare cross him or disrupt the schedule.
Yet, she was uncertain.
The New Republic was planning to attack Lianna, which could destroy the fighters Santhe Corporation produced for the Reborn Emperor's fleet.
Like Lady Santhe, Goir shared concerns about the order's disruption.
Thus, he hurried to return to the Executor's flagship — an Imperial-class Star Destroyer named Implacable — to report the situation to his commander.
Who would then relay Santhe's concerns to Agent Blackhole, who would, in turn, inform the Emperor.
The Dark Jedi grew irritated at the thought that Executor Sedriss had so easily lost his position as the Emperor's right hand, ceding it to someone no one had ever seen.
As a result, the Dark Side Elite was forced to undertake tasks far beneath their status.
A disgrace and a lesson for the future — the failure with General Solo, Grand Admiral Thrawn's victory at Honoghr, Luke Skywalker's escape from the Polis Massa asteroid… it seemed Sedriss was increasingly distracted from invasion planning, obsessed with Grand Admiral Thrawn.
The Executor was practically delusional, convinced the filthy alien was playing a double game and needed to be eliminated immediately.
Utter foolishness.
Thrawn will be destroyed — because he's dangerous when uncontrolled. And the Emperor no longer intends to control him.
Patience is needed, just a little longer — then the Elite can hunt the Grand Admiral. Why worry now?
He's doing what he became known for in the galaxy — crushing the New Republic.
Even if he has ulterior motives, they won't come to fruition.
He'll be killed, no matter what anyone thinks.
Yet, why is the Force so restless?
Vill halted a few meters from his starfighter, straining to sense the Dark Side.
It felt… denser than before. Good, as it meant more power for the Elite…
But the Dark Side's aura strengthens only when a source of that energy is nearby!
And he came to Lianna alone.
Sedriss is overseeing order execution at Incom Corporation, Kvag Gthull is at the Emperor's secret vault on Wayland, checking what other technological innovations Thrawn used…
The use of cloaking fields to deliver an asteroid strike certainly piqued the Emperor's interest.
Cloaking devices have their flaws, especially those powered by hibridium. The Emperor appreciated their use for planetary bombardment. Now, acquiring the device is necessary, and…
The Dark Side nearby flared with unbridled fury.
Vill executed a backward somersault, activating his lightsaber in mid-air.
Barely landing on his feet, his weapon miraculously blocked a ferocious strike from a double-bladed lightsaber.
With equally crimson blades.
Goir stared in surprise at the Zabrak before him, smiling triumphantly.
— Who are you? — Vill growled menacingly, breaking the block and stepping back, preparing to counterattack.
— Your death, — the Zabrak declared ominously.
He lunged forward, unleashing a barrage of strikes that seemed to come from all directions.
Stunned by this raw, feral assault, the Elite retreated, rapidly analyzing his opponent's tactics.
Whoever this Dark Jedi was, he was trained for quick combat.
So, exhaust him, weaken him, then strike.
Start by targeting the legs, which the opponent isn't even guarding.
With a smile, Vill slipped through his opponent's defenses, jabbing the tip of his blade into the Zabrak's right kneecap.
The lightsaber, meant to vaporize flesh, tendons, and bone, somehow got stuck…
In the next instant, Goir felt the suffocating grip of his opponent on his throat.
Agony seared through him as the Zabrak's crimson blade pierced his chest, vaporizing skin, flesh, bones, and heart.
— A parody of a Sith, — Darth Maul spat on the cooling body, casually heading toward his opponent's starfighter. — The old fool is so terrified of repeating Vader's feat that he recruits amateurs.
Capturing a Sith, especially a Palpatine fanatic, is a futile endeavor. Torturing him could take ages…
Far simpler to inspect his personal ship and visit the places he frequented.
***
— Have you finished, Mr. Ghent? — I asked, entering the room where the slicer worked.
— Huh? — The computer hacker flinched, spotting me in the doorway.
He yanked off his headphones, staring at me with a startled expression.
— You had an assignment, Mr. Ghent, — I reminded him. — Data analysis.
— Oh! — The slicer waved a hand, visibly relaxing. — The information retrieval protocols Mara obtained?
— Precisely, — I confirmed.
— A complex system, — the slicer declared firmly. — The data travels through multiple communication channels, using non-standard frequencies and…
— Mr. Ghent, — I said patiently. — I don't have time for technical details. I need an answer: yes or no.
— More yes than no, — the slicer said evasively. — I've cracked only three of the five data transmission channels…
— Can you definitively say where and when the next data transmission will occur? — Rukh's appearance visibly unnerved the slicer, who watched my bodyguard toy with his throwing knives.
— Actually, yes, I can, — he said, tensely observing Rukh. — There are three possible locations.
— I was told there'd be one, — I recalled.
— Sir, I'm no Jedi; I'm speaking based on technical data, — the slicer said, handing me a data crystal. — Without processing the additional channels, I can't guarantee which specific relay will handle the transmission.
— How long will it take to provide a more precise answer? — I asked.
— Two or three weeks, — the slicer shrugged. — If they use these channels, that is…
— Thank you, — I nodded. — Return to working on the relays captured from the New Republic. In two weeks, they must ensure reliable and timely data transmission on specific hyperspace route segments.
— Doing my best, — Mr. Ghent said.
— I understand, but the work must be accelerated, — I reiterated. — The entire Dominion's defense system depends on this project.
— Wow! — The young man's eyes widened. — Well, I'll, uh, speed things up…
— But not at the expense of quality, — I reminded him.
— Of course, — the young man nodded energetically, slipping his headphones back on and diving into the virtual world.
As I exited the fleet headquarters' crypto-analysis department, I noticed Major Tierce hurrying toward me, almost skipping.
A bad feeling crept over me.
What could have happened to make an elite guardsman, my adjutant, run instead of moving at a measured pace?
Rukh, to my right, tensed noticeably.
A moment later, the guardsman stood before me.
— Urgent information, sir, — he said, catching his breath.
No need to ask why he didn't use the comlink — such devices are permanently jammed in the crypto department.
— Report, — I ordered, knowing Tierce wouldn't disturb me over trivialities.
— A diplomatic ship en route to Ciutric IV was destroyed in the Vinsoth system, — he said rapidly.
It took a fraction of a second to realize who might have been there and why.
— Inform Captain Pellaeon — we're preparing to depart, — I ordered. — Send the nearest scout ships to the system. Ignore Vinsoth's neutrality. Before my Star Destroyers arrive, I want to know who destroyed Baron D'Asta and under what circumstances.