Nine years, five months, and eight days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or forty-four years, five months, and eight days after the Great Resynchronization.
Well, conditionally, it can be said that Coordinator Sergius can be trusted. At the very least, in assessing the personalities of the Moff and Captain I-Gor, he was not mistaken.
Well, now let's test his loyalty in a more serious matter.
Having informed Bravo-2 about the information that I am interested in the crew of the ship where Talon Karrde previously served, I gave him half a day to prepare for the operation. This deadline was needed primarily so that our own fleet intelligence could check whether the coordinator would send the information received to his former "masters." He didn't send it.
But it allowed Captain I-Gor to prepare his ship for the upcoming flight.
It took me great effort to remember the place where, in the events known to me, the Empire discovered the former commander of the Claw.
For independent information retrieval, I had only a few introductory data - what I could recall from memory.
The captain's last name is Hoffner. He was discovered in a floating casino. And the establishment is not for the middle class. I also remembered that in the events known to me, the Imperials had to shell an underwater casino to force the establishment to surface.
I had to spend a lot of time on my own at the computer before the meager "clues" led to a result.
The planet Pantolomin. This almost completely ocean-covered world is located in the Core Worlds region, in the New Republic's sphere of influence. Dolomar Sector, Panto System. On the tactical coordinate network - in square K-9. There are indeed many upscale casinos and entertainment centers on the planet, located on underwater tourist ships.
However, I was unable to determine on which of these ships Captain Hoffner is located, and whether he is there now.
But Mr. Coordinator succeeded in this.
Which he did not fail to inform me about at the end of the time allotted for preparation.
— "Coral Vanda," — the coordinator said. — This is a tourist amphibious ship, for clients with high solvency. Captain Hoffner resides there in relatively expensive apartments. He spends indecently large sums of money. He is well known for his "generous" gestures to the staff. He is gambling, arrogant. He does not hesitate to play at any slot machine or cards. However, he invariably participates in almost every game. Of course, with a sad outcome for his wallet.
To say that discovering Hoffner in such a short time is luck means to say nothing. But, it seems to me, this is more a merit of the professionalism of Imperial intelligence than a coincidence. The only question is whether the work of Imperial intelligence in this context will become for me the very "act of betrayal" that will disrupt my plans.
— Is anything known about the other members of Karrde's crew? - I inquired.
— Of the crew of the ship on which Karrde and Hoffner served, only these two are alive, — the coordinator replied. — The rest either died in smuggler infighting or were killed by Imperial law enforcement.
— You have done a great job, Coordinator, — I said calmly. — As far as I remember, not so long ago, Ubiqtorate's reputation suffered significant damage - the rebels struck Tangrene. We will not leave this act without attention. You and your people are going to the Churb star system in the sector of the same name. On the planet New Cov, according to the information I have, there are agents of the person who is responsible for this crime. Your primary task is to make contact with the governor and convince him to transfer part of the biomolecular mass being developed there to us in exchange for the fact that his planet will not be subjected to an Imperial invasion.
— A highly nutritious substance? — Sergius clarified. After receiving an affirmative nod, the coordinator paused. — If I remember correctly, it has been used in food additives to dry rations since the days of the Grand Army of the Republic to increase the nutritional value of food.
— That's right, Coordinator, — I stated. — Our armed forces are growing. And we need more food for our soldiers. Biomolecular mass will allow us to reduce food costs. Accordingly, the second task is to identify the agents of our adversary and try to establish covert surveillance over them. We will try to use this method to reach their leader and commit an act of retribution.
— Will there be instructions regarding the nature of the mission? — the coordinator clarified.
— Yes, — I replied. — Nothing should indicate our involvement. And at the same time, insurance is necessary for guarantees of stable work in the future.
— I understand, sir, — Sergius assured me. As always, he is shockingly calm. Whether this is good or bad remains to be seen.
Having departed on the Crusader to carry out his mission, the coordinator left me in thought.
***
Despite the fact that the Crusader left the slipways at the end of the Clone Wars, the Victory I-class Star Destroyer was still in excellent condition.
Nine hundred meters long from the nose to the nozzles of the aft engines. A class-one hyperdrive, making the ship one of the fastest in the entire Imperial fleet — after all, even Imperial-class Star Destroyers were equipped with class-two models. Quad turbolaser batteries, dual turbolaser batteries. Two squadrons of TIE fighters. Nearly five thousand crew members, of whom four hundred and two were gunners. Just over two thousand infantrymen, with whom there was a full complement of armored vehicles on board – walkers, droppods, transport ships... But as the pinnacle of military genius, only this type of ship carried the ultimate weapon of destruction – launch devices for eighty proton torpedoes.
Such a barrage of "trouble," should it happen to fall directly on the head of the enemy, would cause a huge number of problems.
It was no accident that both modifications of the Victory were not written off into the reserve when the Imperials became widespread. Yes, of course, officers and crews of more powerful Star Destroyers stated that the only reason why the tiny Victories were not scrapped was the need for someone to patrol remote sectors and hunt numerous pirates and robbers.
Perhaps this is partly the case. But in one thing, the crews of the Victories differed dramatically from their "younger brothers" serving on the Imperials.
There were no mama's boys and other aristocratic upstarts, whose ranks grew less due to their merits to the fatherland and more due to political motives. And although everyone who had the honor to serve aboard the Victories knew that most likely their career would end on their first Star Destroyer, there were no volunteers who wanted to shirk their duties.
— The reactor compartment reports its readiness, — the commander of the Crusader, I-Gor, walked along the central platform, dividing the combat bridge of the ship into two parts, in each of which were officers responsible for a specific direction on the ship. A not-so-young man, but in his prime, listened to the officers' reports. And although he was pleased with the clarity of the reports, as well as the content of the latter, he did not show it.
— Engineering is fully ready! — another officer reported.
— Artillery is combat-ready!
— Missile launchers are in order!
Victory I-class ISD commander of Crusader, Captain I-Gor.
Reports came from each combat unit of the starship, and all without exception reported their excellent condition.
This is good.
The Crusader had not been on campaigns for quite a long time, and even more so in battles, so the best thing the commander of the Star Destroyer could do now was to properly tune the crew.
After all, they have a mission ahead – not the banal guard duty they have been doing for the past few weeks, while the Ubiqtorate's fleet leisurely drifted in Tangrene orbit, and then disappeared completely in an unknown direction.
No, this time the Crusader has the honor of demonstrating to the rebels that they are not so invulnerable, resting on their laurels in the Core Worlds.
Standing in front of the central transparent-steel viewport of the bridge, I-Gor placed his hands behind his back, staring at the blackness of space, where a whole squadron of starships was approaching the orbit of Tangrene in an unsteady formation. Considering that the Crusader was moving away from geostationary orbit, preparing to jump to the specified coordinates, their sensors were triggered in advance. Planetary controllers are able to determine a target only when it enters orbit - if there are no sensor beacons in the system. In this case, they were absent. Due to the fact that each of them cost millions of credits, the Ubiqtorate in the past did not particularly want and like to spend money on the needs of the fleet. So, a little help to the dispatchers would not be superfluous, especially in light of the fact that the ships are approaching from the direction of the system's star. That is, the crews of these starships did not want to be directly in the orbit of Tangrene. And this could turn into a surprise for everyone.
— Watch officer, — I-Gor addressed the officer responsible for the current watch. — Contact the control and dispatch point. Report that we have marks without identification marks on our scanners. Classified as twenty Tartan-class patrol cruisers, one DP20-class frigate, two CR90-class corvettes. They do not show hostile intentions. They are accompanied by two conditionally civilian vessels - modified and armed freighters. In escort - a Strike-class medium cruiser, transmitting valid Imperial identification codes, — I-Gor glanced at the tactical monitor. — Correction — a total of three armed freighters. The last one arrived along an unknown trajectory. We are within the enemy's firing range. "Awaiting orders to respond." Prepare turbolasers, pilots take their places in the fighters. "Yellow" alert level! - the last two phrases were addressed directly to the ship's crew.
— Message sent, — the officer reported. Literally a moment later, he reported:
— Received a response from the Chimera CDP.
— Read it, — I-Gor ordered.
— "Targets are friendly. Do not open fire. Continue mission," — the watch officer read. Tearing himself away from the monitor, he reported:
— Signed "Grand Admiral Thrawn."
He delivered the new information with some breathlessness and even superstitious fear.
— Lieutenant, — I-Gor addressed the watch officer. — Cancel the "yellow" alert. Have our guests from Imperial Intelligence been accommodated on board?
— Yes, sir, — he reported.
— Have the jump coordinates been calculated? — I-Gor clarified. The watch officer responded with another affirmative report. — Crew! Attention! Prepare to break the light barrier! Our raid into the enemy's rear begins now.
A moment later, the gray hull of the Star Destroyer disappeared into the blackness of the hull, heading towards its target.
***
I was not going to tell Bravo-2 about the true reasons for the search for Captain Hoffner at this stage. There is no full trust in him at the moment.
But I trusted even less the various kinds of mercenaries who arrived on Tangrene with the acquired ships. If honor is not yet completely an empty sound for Imperials, then mercenaries and pirates will violate the agreement at the first sufficiently large amount that exceeds what I am willing to pay them.
There was a significant risk that Imperial Intelligence operatives would betray, of course. I have no grounds to trust them yet, so other people will deal with the capture of Captain Hoffner. Sergius himself and his men will go on a secondary mission. It was no accident that he was informed about the search for the culprit of the attack on the Ubiqtorate base - a fairly simple way to make him contact his command and report on the situation in general. Let's see if it works, or whether this person does not intend to betray me after all.
From the outside, it seems like these are stupid games and a huge risk of failure.
But, in the end, we are at war - risk is always an integral part of war. Moreover, I had a backup plan for this case.
Reliable as a Swiss watch.
As before, I sat in my cabin aboard the Chimera, looking at a holographic map of the galaxy. In addition to dividing the territories into spheres of influence of states, there were tiny dots in a number of places - the locations of our starships. A small modification of the standard data visualization system. Only for me - no one else has such information. The computer makes calculations based on data about distance, the presence or absence of main and regional hyperspace routes, and so on.
And now, one of them was moving along a dotted line towards the planet New Cov.
No state in the galaxy, not even the Galactic Empire at the peak of its power, possessed the technologies that would allow it to close its borders. There are not enough ships and equipment to keep operational formations somewhere in space, devoid of planets and stars, to ensure the impenetrability of borders. Therefore, the standard tactic was based directly on patrolling hyperspace routes, and creating fortified worlds - fortress planets, from where fleet ships could go to the rescue at any moment.
The only effective way at the moment to prevent the movement of an enemy ship through its territory is to use interdictor cruisers, which, with the help of their gravity field generators, are able to create an artificial area of gravity in places where it did not exist before.
The technology of moving in hyperspace in this galaxy is very dependent on gravitational fields. Ships could not jump, crossing the light barrier in the zone of attraction of planets, and could not continue their flight in the zone of its action - the protection of navigation computers was triggered, warning ships from collisions with solid objects. Rather ... a controversial point. Based on which it can be assumed that in this galaxy, a starship moving at faster-than-light speed is still vulnerable to kinetic impact. An interesting point. My knowledge of astrophysics in my native universe is too superficial to judge the logic or absurdity of this kind of phenomenon is critically small, so I will have to take it on faith. And later I will study this area of science in the galaxy far, far away myself. Which I am, in fact, doing in my free time.
Hyperspace routes in a galaxy far, far away are like roads in the world I know. There are only five key "highways" in the galaxy - the Parlemian Trade Route, the Corellian Run, the Corellian Trade Spine, the Rimma Trade Route, and the Hydian Way. As can be seen from most of the names, they were created and served primarily for trade relations at the dawn of the formation of a huge galaxy. They began to be used for troop transfers in a much later period when certain territories of the galaxy began to rattle their weapons. But these are just five main ones - there are thousands of times more secondary and regional routes. And some are completely unknown to the majority of the galaxy's population.
Using hyperspace routes allows you to move through the galaxy much faster than flying directly from planet to planet. A trip along a highway and along a country road - these are the most appropriate comparisons to describe the option of using a hyperspace route or flying directly. Therefore, a collision arises - if the distance between two planets, say, a thousand light years "in a straight line" can be overcome (depending on the type of hyperdrive), say, in a week, then using a hyperspace route, which runs "in a roundabout way" and the distance along which will be five to six times longer, you can reach the desired goal in a couple of days. For some reason, at this moment I came up with a comparison of traveling between two settlements on a highway that runs around the forest that separates them, and through the forest, "directly."
One way or another, but navigation computers and hyperdrives allow you to significantly speed up your movement through the galaxy. The higher the class of the hyperdrive, the faster the ship moves in hyperspace. Most starships in the galaxy have both a main hyperdrive – on the Chimera, for example, it is class two, and a backup one – a much worse class, and its use significantly increases travel time.
Why not install hyperdrives of only the "normal" class on ships? Yes, because it's insanely expensive. A significant part of the cost of warships is precisely the cost of hyperdrives. The larger the ship that must be moved by such an installation, the larger the installation itself. Therefore, there is a linear relationship between the size of the starship and its hyperdrive. So, if the scale of the projection is correct, then the hyperdrive on the Chimera is the size of a nine-story building - and this is just the installation itself, excluding related systems. It goes without saying that a similar hyperdrive will not fit on some freighter - and there it will be much smaller. But the freighter itself can sometimes be hundreds of times smaller than an Imperial Star Destroyer.
If I understood correctly, then the movement between planets also includes the presence of coordinates of departure - the starting point - and the coordinates of arrival - the end point. The better the hyperdrive, the more intermediate coordinates it can calculate. Yes, that's right. Another comparison with roads - in order to get from Vladivostok to Moscow, you will have to either go to some cities and towns along the way, or, if there are bypass roads, rush past them. The second class of hyperdrive is inferior to the first only in speed of movement, but it works, in general, the same way. It costs orders of magnitude cheaper, and in terms of maintenance, it is slightly simpler. Considering that the Empire, after its reorganization from the Galactic Republic, assumed that they no longer had to play "catch-up" with the remnants of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, the "economists" from the Imperial Senate considered it easier to put second-class hyperdrives on warships - cheaper, but, in essence, the effect is the same.
This, in fact, is the main trend of the Imperials in the military-industrial aspect - cheaper, but more in quantity. The New Republic acts in reverse, but I have already mentioned this.
So, depending on the size, brand and class of the hyperdrive, it can calculate a specific route between the starting and ending point, including "intermediate coordinates". The better the hyperdrive, the more of the latter you will skip, without having to exit into real space and adjust the course. On the fighters of the Grand Army of the Republic, equipped with a hyperdrive, this threshold was, in most cases, about ten coordinates. Modern New Republic X-wings and other of their space combat vehicles use much more advanced versions of hyperdrives that allow pilots to make much longer jumps. The range of this depends directly on the volume of this kind of "experimenters". Luckily for me, the region of space in which the ship I needed was located
Meanwhile, after looking at the dotted line indicating the movement of the Crusader once again, I sighed and shifted my gaze slightly "north", where there was another similar trajectory.
The decision is inconsistent and rather desperate, inconsistent with the actions of Thrawn himself. But necessary.
Activating the holoprojector, I sent a call to the board of the second ship moving towards the planet Pantolomin.
— Grand Admiral Thrawn, — the commander of the Nemesis greeted me with a barely noticeable nod.
— Captain Von Schneider, — the exchange of courtesies was also part of the traditions of the Imperial fleet. — Plans have changed. You are ordered to exit hyperspace in the near future, plot a course to the planet Pantolomin in the Dolomar sector.
— A resort planet, sir? — the commander of the Nemesis clarified.
— That's right, — I confirmed. — A man I need is on the underwater casino Coral Vanda. His name is Captain Hoffner. This person is involved in the attack on the Ubiqtorate base on Tangrene. I need him alive. Special instruction - no one should know that you came directly for Hoffner. Our main opponent is an information trader. If he learns the true purpose of our raid, he may understand that we intend to deprive the rebels of a valuable source of information. In his person. This could lead to irreparable consequences.
— I understand, sir, — the commander of the Nemesis assured me. — I am proceeding to carry out the mission immediately. Should I report this to Ms. Jade?
A good question. Her participation is a great way to test loyalty. And at the same time - in case of failure, if Hoffner for a moment says something about what he really knows about the location of the Katana Fleet, Jade may act very rashly. How sad that you can't be completely frank with anyone. I have to use it "in the dark" until confirmation of the coincidence of our interests. Or should I risk it anyway?
— Exactly, — I stated. — Send her and several stormtroopers under legends on board the Coral Vanda to search for and capture the target. As soon as you receive confirmation from them - make it look like a regular raid and robbery. I am sure that there are a lot of credits on board the Coral Vanda that will be useful to us.
Judging by the set jaw on Von Schneider's face, he was not very happy about the idea of participating in a raid as a simple robber.
— I understand the order, sir, — he said. — May I execute it?
— Proceed, — I said, turning off the holoprojector.
Well, the bets are placed, there are no more bets.
— Grand Admiral, sir, — the comlink came alive with the voice of Captain Pellaeon. — The arriving ships have been checked by inspection parties, they pose no threat to us. They are ready to be docked to the external nodes of the orbital repair yard for thorough inspection and necessary repairs. The mercenary ships are still holding outside the range of our weapons in accordance with the filtration protocol - until we understand that they do not pose a threat to us.
— Excellent, Captain, — I stated. — Order this. And also inform Messrs. Ferrier and Bayne that I will meet with them in an hour.
— Yes, sir, — Pellaeon said.
— Captain, — I recalled the data from Captain I-Gor's report. Good, Gilad, if you did not pay attention to it yourself, I will do it for you. — Three civilian freighters arrived. But we only invited two guests. Who's the third?
— One moment, sir, — there was annoyance in Pellaeon's voice. — Our cryptographers are trying to verify its identification data. They are undoubtedly forged, we are looking for matches in the engine signatures in the database... Ah! There's a lead! "Rabid Ewok." Pirate ship. The captain is someone named Tiberos. Wanted for crimes in seventy sectors of the New Republic.
— Are there any messages from this ship? — I inquired.
— No, sir, — Pellaeon replied. Quiet cursing was heard. Nothing cardinal, just cussing. — Sorry, sir. Apparently, they realized that we had identified them. They are sending a message: "Arrived to work for the Empire." There is the signature of Captain Tiberos. Destroy the ship?
— No, Captain, — I sighed. — Invite them all for a meeting at the Moff's residence on Tangrene. Unaccompanied and unarmed. Tell the Moff to organize surveillance of their ships. And yes, arrange for a shuttle for me. By the time of the meeting, I want to have information about our potential employee.
***
There's something ironic about arriving at the residence of an Imperial Moff escorted by a company of Imperial stormtroopers. And yet, six years ago, these guys were chasing him all over the Mid Rim, hoping to properly punish him for attacks on Imperial aristocrats and piracy. And now they themselves are offering work to those whom they recently considered scum. Moreover, if you believe the rumors in the pirate community, they have been promised a pretty good reward.
Commander of the Rabid Ewok, pirate Tiberos.
However, if this is not the case, you can always "part ways" - Tiberos did absolutely nothing to the current Imperial government. But he did a good job pinching the New Republic.
Looking at the poser and braggart Yazuo Vaine, as well as at Nyle Ferrier, who never stopped smoking his lousy cigar, Tiberos thought that cracking the skulls of these two annoying subjects would be a pretty easy way to make life easier.
But, apparently, they work for the Imperials. And Tiberos wanted to work for them. So, he'll have to put up with the inevitable.
Therefore, he was glad that he was wearing a respirator mask. Its history is quite interesting - he received it from one Mandalorian renegade warrior, whose skull he cracked in his youth when he performed in combat pits at gladiatorial games. Since then, he has not parted with his trophy. As well as with two cleavers made of beskar alloy and a number of other metals. His first battle trophies, which he has kept for over ten years. Ever since he was left on the street, having lost his parents.
He found nothing remarkable in the Imperial building where they were taken. Simple, angular, made of gray duracrete. Boring, in short.
Tiberos practically did not react to the commands of the stormtroopers, without any participation laying out from his belongings a couple of blasters, throwing knives, a mace with a folding handle, several grenades, another blaster, a mine, a stiletto, several detonators, a garrote, boxing gloves. Only when they demanded to surrender his main weapon - the cleavers - was he not very happy. Looking at the stormtrooper, towering over the rather large soldier in snow-white plastoid armor, he measured him with his gaze. Then he looked at the couple of soldiers next to him who had pointed their blasters at him. Again at the stormtrooper standing in front of him. With a heavy sigh, very reminiscent of the hissing of the respirator of the late Darth Vader, who is his idol in some moments, he put his weapon on the table next to the metal detector. He obediently passed under the scanners, wincing at the fact that they beeped.
The stormtroopers tensed, instantly moving away from him by several meters and synchronously raising their blasters so that he was under crossfire if it came to a shootout. Judging by the sounds, Nyle Ferrier, standing near him, spoiled the air. Yazuo Vaine demonstratively pinched his nose.
— Weapon on the table! — the stormtrooper demanded. — Everything!
— What kind of weapon is it, — Tiberos said peacefully, taking several vibroblades from the secret pockets of his worn vest. — Just, scratchers to scratch my back.
— More, — the stormtrooper demanded. He hardly knew for sure, but he definitely guessed that not everything was so simple with his secret weapons. These guys seem smarter than they appear at first glance.
Tiberos demonstratively raised his leg, shod in a reinforced boot, after which he pulled out a couple more throwing knives from the bootleg. Without waiting for the stormtrooper's enlightenment, he took another blaster from the second boot. And only after the stormtrooper didn't even try to move or lower his weapon, did he detach the soles from both boots, demonstrating that he was also leaving custom-made portable mines.
— Is that all? — the stormtrooper asked.
— Do you want to climb under my pants and look if there's any heavy artillery there? — Tiberos offered, frankly enjoying the fact that the stormtrooper doesn't understand humor.
— Either you take out the blasters from the hidden holster yourself, or we will do it, but from your corpse, — the stormtrooper warned. Judging by the markings - the colored pauldron, he is clearly the commander of these snow-white bastards.
— Okay, okay, — Tiberos assured him. — You don't cry, "doll," okay?
The stormtrooper commander pretended not to notice the insult.
"Dolls," mocking the identical armor of the stormtroopers, were called the Republican soldiers. Like, someday Stormtrooper Corps fighters will crawl out of their cocoons and turn into beautiful targets for rebel blasters.
Seeing that the stormtroopers were not ready to continue practicing humor, Tiberos demonstratively unfastened his belt, reached into his pants. Touching the right holster, fastened between his legs, where even during a regular search, security officers tried not to reach, there were hidden blasters - small, and also called "ladies' poppers." But if you properly upgrade them, their power is amazing.
Having laid out weapons from both the right and left holsters, the pirate smiled.
— If you want, you can check for yourself, if I left something extra there, — he offered.
— Move on, — the stormtrooper stepped aside, nodding his head behind his shoulder. To where a narrow corridor went. — You two, — he turned his gaze to Ferrier and Vaine, — too.
Accompanied by several stormtroopers, they were led down the corridor to some room, near which another detachment of "dolls" was located. Hmm, who are they so afraid of?
— Captain Tiberos, — one of the stormtroopers standing at the door said. Addressing the pirate. — They are waiting for you.
— And what are we supposed to wait for? — Nyle Ferrier grumbled with a claim to his own opinion.
— Yes, — the stormtrooper answered laconically. — Wait.
Looking at the losers with mockery, the pirate stepped into the door that opened in front of him.
The room in which he found himself did not differ from the brightness familiar to the Imperials. The lighting panels are intentionally dimmed so that the twilight falls on the corners of the room. Tiberos did not doubt that some surprises were intentionally hidden in these dark nooks, such as a secret guard or bodyguards of the sentient being with whom he intended to meet. But these are clearly not stormtroopers – even in the semi-darkness, their snow-white armor would be visible.
— Sit down, Captain, — through the twilight you can distinguish a rectangular table, behind which a sentient being in an Imperial officer's uniform was sitting. Judging by the snow-white tunic, it is clearly someone who fancies himself a Grand Admiral. Yes, this guy has no shortage of self-esteem. After all, everyone knows that twelve Palpatine's chain dogs were killed by the rebels. However, after the Battle of Endor, ambition prevails among the Imperial military. And what's the difference, actually?
Tiberos went to the only unoccupied chair, sat down on it, throwing his leg over his leg.
— So? — he asked with a slight mockery. — What's next?
— I'm interested in the very same question, Captain, — the unknown sentient being said in a insinuating but authoritative tone. — What's next?
— I'd like to get a job, — Tiberos shrugged.
— Does the Imperial base on Tangrene look like a recruitment agency? — the stranger clarified.
— Judging by the fact that the Empire is spreading information that it is hiring pirates and smugglers – yes, — the criminal chuckled. — As I heard, you need privateers.
— And from whom did you receive such intriguing information? — the unknown man inquired.
— Rumors, — the pirate explained. — Here and there. They say that the Empire gave the rebels a good beating in the Dafilvean sector. This is great news. Worthy of my interest in your proposal.
— And what are your motives, Captain? — the owner of the white tunic inquired.
— I love my craft, — Tiberos declared. — And when, in addition to the reward on the ship itself, they also pay extra, it's generally wonderful.
— Really? — the unknown man clarified. — Don't you want to say anything else?
— I want to, — Tiberos stated. — This twilight is irritating me.
— It would seem – for what reason? — the unknown man chuckled. — After all, your mask is equipped with night vision devices.
— And Imperial Intelligence doesn't get its rations for nothing, — Tiberos chuckled. — Although they don't work hard enough - the mask is broken. The visor processor flew off in one of the last battles, so, as you can see, I am without such miracles. And its repair costs a lot, a lot. I hope I will be given an advance so that I can repair it.
— Are you so sure that you will be provided with work? — the stranger was surprised.
— And why, in fact, not "yes"? — Tiberos was surprised. — Rumors that a certain Imperial military leader hates the rebels so much that he is ready to give them a "taste of their own medicine" at any convenient opportunity is not such a secret. A series of raiding operations a couple of months ago. An attack on a rebel base on the planet Ord-Pardron. And even a bombardment with asteroids - you decidedly dislike the current owners of Coruscant. I admit, I do too. Therefore, I am ready for a small amount of credits to hunt for their transport starships and diplomatic ships. I heard they have a bad habit of using disarmed warships as cargo ships. I always wanted a Mon Calamari Star Cruiser.
— And I thought your biggest dream was to become a champion in gladiatorial fights throughout the Outer Rim, — the unknown man remarked. Tiberos narrowed his eyes. — As you can see, Imperial Intelligence doesn't get its salary for nothing.
— Decided to show off your erudition? — Tiberos chuckled.
— If I wanted to, I would have told you facts from your biography, — the unknown man said calmly. — About how your father, a gladiator in illegal fights, was deprived of all his titles and expelled in disgrace. And all because he lost a fight to Aurra Sing. It is curious that later she became your mother. I think it was still not worth hiding from your employer that your desire to cut rebels arose due to the murder of your parents a little over seven years ago. Because it was then that you began your activity as a gladiator, and after the murder of your parents during one of the Rebel Alliance operations in the Outer Rim, you switched from robbing Imperial outposts and convoys to striking at the rebels. I won't be mistaken if I say that you stopped your activity because your ship was badly damaged in the last battle and now you need support to restore your warship and continue to get on the nerves of the rebels?
— You know too much, — Tiberos remarked. He felt neither anger nor irritation from what he heard. He had been through it long ago. And his mother... taught him a lot. However, not only she.
— On the contrary, — the sentient being sitting opposite remarked. — Something that particularly interests me remains a mystery to me.
— I understand, you won't make a secret of your interest? — the pirate asked the unknown man.
— Of course not, — he declared. — Tell me, Captain Tiberos, did you inherit your mother's sensitivity to the Force?
The pirate felt that everything inside him grew cold. He wanted to curse obscenely. But he tried to remain calm. Instead, he tried to concentrate, as his mother and Emand taught him, to penetrate the mind of his interlocutor, to understand what he wanted from him - to hire him or continue the glorious work of the Inquisitorius, to hunt for a weak Force-sensitive...
But instead of a jumble of thoughts, he stumbled upon the fact that he cannot in principle sense the presence of a living sentient being in front of him. As if a droid was sitting in front of him... No, not like that. Droids can also be sensed. Unless the Force is here!
The pirate tried to direct his weak efforts to the space around him... And he realized that he was in a room where, except for a tiny space, located literally where he was sitting, the Force seemed to be absent.
— I see you've already figured it out, Captain Tiberos, — the light in the room slowly began to gain strength. The pirate covered his eyes with his hand, which allowed him to avoid immediate blindness. Squinting, he found the human sitting opposite him... No, not a human!
Very much like a human, but with a blue tint to his skin, and burning crimson eyes. In the hands of this sentient being, some lizard was dozing, which the Imperial was stroking on the belly, like a pet.
Tiberos realized that this last conclusion was not true when he looked around - in the former semi-dark corners there were cages with similar creatures. And in one corner, a gray-skinned humanoid with a protruding jaw was sitting on his haunches. Looks like a bodyguard, and even with a weapon.
"What kind of zoo is this?" - the pirate was taken aback. Few things could unsettle him. But the impossibility of using the Force was frightening. Yes, he was weak and unlike the Jedi and Sith of the past, he could not use it constantly. No matter how hard he tried to train after the death of his mother Emand, nothing came of it. Apparently, he is not such a "gifted" one.
— I think the answer is not required, is it, Grand Admiral? — Tiberos inquired.
— It is not required, — the latter confirmed. — I understand that the Force helps you in your activities?
— A little, — Tiberos stated. Apparently, the Imperial did not know about the existence of Emand. Well, that's good. I wouldn't want to set up an old friend. — And what now? Will you kill me?
— Why? — the blue-skinned "man" was surprised.
— The Empire hated the Jedi, — Tiberos remarked. — My mother spent her whole life fearing that the Inquisitors would come for her.
— But they didn't come, did they? — the Imperial clarified.
— No, — the pirate agreed.
— Did you decide to become a Jedi? — he asked a new question.
— Nope, — Tiberos grinned. — On the contrary. I dream of one day meeting them face to face and...
— And? — the Imperial looked at him curiously.
— ...smashing their skulls, — Tiberos finished.
— And what is the reason for such an attitude towards them? — the non-human seemed interested.
— I hate Jedi, — Tiberos explained. — Mother hated, and I hate. But they seem to me to be good targets for hunting.
— Really? — the blue-skinned man chuckled. — Then why haven't you dealt with Luke Skywalker yet?
— Someday, — the pirate shrugged. — I'm too weak in the Force to fight him on equal terms. But if I get my hands on some knowledge of the Sith or ancient Jedi... then we'll see who's who.
— Well, the answer is accepted, — the alien declared. — However, let's return to the discussion of the reason why you are here.
— Yes, it wouldn't hurt, — Tiberos chuckled. — So, do I have a privateer's license?
— You will get it, — the Imperial said. — But only if we agree on the terms of cooperation. Otherwise, you are not interesting to me.
"What a funny Imperial," the pirate chuckled to himself.
— And what will those conditions be? — he inquired.
— Don't rush, — Thrawn advised. — This concerns not only you, but also our other guests. However, I must admit, you intrigued me. What do you say if I tell you that I have a way to teach you the Jedi art?
— If you now pull out a lightsaber and start levitating, I will admit that the Empire has something to surprise me with, — Tiberos chuckled. However, remembering Emand's warnings, he added:
— I'm afraid I have to refuse. I'm happy with what I already have. I'm sure your offer will be burdensome for me. I prefer to act as an ordinary corsair. A damn lucky one, but a corsair. I'm not interested in becoming a Jedi.
— Well, it's your business, — the Grand Admiral stated. There was some disappointment in his voice. — If you change your mind - contact me.
— Definitely, — Tiberos almost laughed. But he remained calm.
— And now call Messrs. Ferrier, Vaine, and make yourselves comfortable, — the non-human said. — Let's talk business.
***
It's a damn shame that this lad thinks he can easily fool me.
The offer to train is nothing more than a test. It goes without saying that I'm not going to give K'Bao to the two-meter giant, resembling a human with gray-green skin (I wonder who his father was, if his son came out this color?), and even with some sensitivity to the Force. And although now he is sitting in his cabin, in the zone of action of the ysalaamiri, I hope that the old clone could not find a way to circumvent their effect. Because he's been quiet lately. He didn't even seem to want to be interested in the reason why his abilities didn't work on Weyland. I wonder if the madman has already figured out that this is connected with the ysalaamiri, or not? I'll have to check when I get a chance.
Looking at the trio of criminals sitting before me, I turned to Captain Pellaeon standing next to me.
— Proceed, — I allowed.
— So, gentlemen, — the commander of the Chimera coughed, beginning to improvise. — The Empire offers you privateer's licenses...
— I'll pass, — "Sly" said. — I'm a hijacker, not a thug.
— Rukh, — I said quietly. The gray-skinned bodyguard grew up behind the hijacker, demonstratively cutting off part of his stubble with his blade.
— Next time, when you want to interrupt an Imperial officer, — I said softly, — it will be your last, Mr. Ferrier. Believe me, my patience with you tends to decrease rapidly. There will be no more educational conversations with you. Is that clear?
— Y-yes, — the hijacker nodded vigorously.
— Excellent, — I smiled. — As moral compensation, we will thank you for the fact that you will hand over one of the CR90 corvettes to the Empire free of charge.
Ferrier gritted his teeth, but remained silent. I wonder how many times this technique will work? And why doesn't the hijacker just leave? Probably his affairs in the stolen ship resale market are not "very good".
— Therefore, I suggest you leave our meeting and go to inspect the ship you brought, — I suggested. — Given your exceptional audacity, the settlement with you will be calculated in this deal by deducting the cost of ship repairs from one-third of the market value of the stolen starship.
— Not a ship, but ships? — Ferrier clarified, wincing.
— That's right, — I said. — Objections?
— None, — the chubby man smiled strainedly and trudged dejectedly towards the exit.
After he closed the door behind him, I turned my gaze to the couple of pirates, sincerely happy at the departure of the hijacker.
— Continue, Captain, — I suggested. — As close as possible to the text of the patent.
— So, — Pellaeon said, spitting on the rules of decency and his own pride, he began to read from the deck the draft of the privateer's patent I had developed. — You are offered to become privateers in the service of Grand Admiral Thrawn, — the pirates exchanged glances. They seem to have caught the subtext of the clarification about working for me personally. — The purpose of privateering is any military and merchant ships of the rebels calling themselves the "New Republic" and their allies, as well as their infrastructure. You are forbidden to engage in privateering or other illegal activities in Imperial space... — the captain stumbled. He looked at me, then back at the text, sighed, decided, — until you receive the appropriate order. The damage to your ships received during military operations will be repaired in Imperial shipyards for a commensurate part of your fee. You are instructed to deliver captured ships for inspection by a prize court to locations indicated to you by your coordinators. After inspection of the ships and assessment of the cargo they carry, you will be paid half the value of the starship and its cargo.
Actually, this is almost all that I could come up with, drawing from my memory my knowledge from the past of my native world. I somehow didn't delve into such a topic.
— Now you can ask questions, — I suggested.
— So you and your subordinates will be assessing the captured "prizes"? — Captain Taberos clarified.
— The prize court will be headed by the Moff of the planet where we are located, — I stated. — He and his specialists will assess the ships and goods you deliver. Accordingly, if you disagree with their assessment, please provide information indicating the discrepancy. Consistent with official markets, of course.
— Uh-uh, — Yazuo Vaine scratched behind his sharp ear. — Excuse my ignorance, of course, but... why should we engage in piracy for you if we can safely continue such activities on our own?
— First of all, Captain Vaine, — Pellaeon said, — our intelligence will supply you with the data we have about the movement of enemy convoys, the composition of their escort, and their combat value. Without such information, any of your raids on such enemy transports will be tantamount to suicide. Although your gang is large, I can bet my salary that upon meeting several cruisers, and especially in the presence of an interdictor cruiser, your fleet and its crews will suffer significant losses. While we can not only provide you with exhaustive information on large convoys, but also send our own starships if necessary to deter enemy warships, while your people will rob transports and take them away directly from under the noses of the rebels.
— And what prevents us from simply attacking single ships or small convoys that we can handle? — Captain Tiberos asked a question.
— And how soon will the rebels' search ships come after you? — I clarified. — At the moment, they are strengthening the escort of their starships, and therefore, lone ships and small pirate squadrons will either be left without prey or will be killed.
— The galaxy is large, — Vaine said meaningfully. — There will always be a trader-doze...
— No one restricts you in independently searching for targets, gentlemen, — I remarked. — The main thing is that they are not Imperial. This is purely your initiative. You will earn ten, twenty thousand credits from his cargo, — I continued. — And you will get into more trouble than you can resolve. While I am ready to help you get rid of both "tails" and problems from the Imperial government. You will become official privateers and will no longer be pursued in Imperial space. Neither you nor those who follow your example, - and although this is only written on water with a pitchfork, I don't think that the Imperial Ruling Council, receiving a small "share" from the pirate enterprise, will be disappointed. Because the convoys of the New Republic are estimated at tens, or even hundreds of millions of credits. And the conversation is now primarily about the goods they carry. Nobody even mentions the ships with such estimates.
— I understand that you will take military ships for yourself without any deductions in our direction? — Captain Tiberos clarified.
— If you and your people take part in its capture, you will receive compensation commensurate with your expenses and losses, — I explained. — If we act on our own, then the prey, as well as its cargo, is ours. The patent concerns exclusively joint operations or your individual activities. Warships of Imperial design and construction ultimately pass under our protection. And you, accordingly, are entitled to compensation for your efforts.
— What about the crews of captured ships? — Captain Vaine inquired.
— According to the terms of the privateer's patent, they are prisoners of war and must be handed over to us immediately as soon as you reach the meeting point, — I said calmly. Judging by the looks of both pirates, they are somewhat disappointed. But Pellaeon nods approvingly. — Those who survive as a result of boarding, of course. Nobody asks you to sacrifice your people for the sake of greater capture of prisoners. In case of an attempt to rebel during the transfer of ships - similarly. I think it is worth mentioning right away - violation of any clause of the privateer's patent will, depending on the severity of the violation, be punished by part of your share or death penalty.
An extra precaution in case the noble gentlemen pirates suddenly consider a live crew an annoying obstacle to transferring crews to our side. Why not just kill them all? It's very simple - officers of any captured ship are a valuable source of information. And also - free labor.
— Clever, — Captain Vaine chuckled. — That is, I understand correctly that we must primarily capture, and not destroy, the ships of the New Republic?
— You understand correctly, — I agreed. — As already mentioned, in this difficult time for their logistics, our enemy uses military ships for their purposes.
— Okay, — the half-breed scratched his ear. — And what about the cargo? Can we buy back part of the captured cargo from you if we need it?
— Yes, you can, — I agreed. — In the event that this cargo is not military and we do not need it. In this case, we reserve the right to take military cargo as our share of the spoils.
— How will particularly valuable information be paid for? — Captain Tiberos inquired.
— Commensurate with their value, — I replied. — And only if they are not obtained from prisoners of war after the capture of ships.
— Judging by the fact that you personally issue privateer's patents, — Yazuo Vaine said, — the other Imperial Remnants are not aware of such an initiative. The question arises - how quickly will we be sent to Kessel if we find ourselves in Imperial territory outside your spheres of influence?
— I think it was clearly stated to you that Imperial territory is closed for your "fishing," — I said a little harsher. — For attacking Imperial ships and territories, you will be executed immediately as soon as my ships find you. No negotiations, repentance, or apologies - justice here and now. It's enough that you will also act on the tips of Imperial Intelligence.
— I understand correctly that providing us with such information will also entail receiving your share of the goods and ships, even if you did not participate in the raid? — Vaine clarified.
— If we provide you with information, it means that we are already participating, — I remarked. — Don't want to share - then find targets yourself. In the latter case, the loot, with the exception of warships and crew, is entirely yours, and we will buy it from you if we need it.
— I understand that, as in the case of ships, you will not give the full market value for "prizes"? — Vaine clarified.
— As in the case of stolen ships, the assessment will be made from half the market value of the "prize," — I explained. — In favor of reducing the cost for each damage. That's why the chief engineer from our shipyard will be in the prize court - his people will have to repair the damage.
— Let's sum it up, — Captain Teberos suggested. — Everything that we loot from the rebels will have only half the value. We act on your tip or with your participation - you take part of the "prize" for yourselves. All warships and cargo - you take for yourselves permanently, and you pay us no more than half of their market value.
— So far, everything is correct, — I stated. — If something doesn't suit you, you are free to leave.
— No, — Tiberos chuckled. — I'm actually fine with everything. Rarely does anyone pay the full value of goods and ships obtained illegally. Half is a lot of money. Especially if you work on a large scale. The question is different - who will deal with the sale of goods that neither you nor we will need?
— There are no unnecessary goods, — I remarked, thinking that in our sector there is just a conveniently located port where you can sell any cargo. The main thing is to have such a man (or - not quite a man - who can do it without attracting attention). — In any case, if such a situation arises, we will resolve it amicably. Any more questions?
— Will other pirates or pirate groups be involved in privateering? — Yazuo Vaine inquired.
— Are you afraid of competition? — Captain Pellaeon clarified with a slight mockery.
— I am afraid that our agreement will become known from unreliable elements, — an eloquent look in the direction of the departed Ferrier. — And then the New Republic will deign to equip a battle group for our souls.
— Worse for them, — I said calmly. — If you can lure rebel ships into an ambush - honor and praise to you.
— And yet, I don't trust Ferrier, — Tiberos said openly. — A slippery type. He has already been caught several times for stealing ships from one group for the sake of another. If he is pressed and offered a lot of money, he will easily betray us all.
— Certainly, — I smiled. — Mr. Ferrier loves only two things in this life. Money is the first of them.
— And which one is the second? — Yazuo Vaine asked with a smile.
— His own life, — I said coldly. — And it is now in great question.
The smiles on the pirates' faces became very, very wide. And satisfied.