Nine years, five months, and seventeen days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or the forty-fourth year, five months, and seventeen days after the Great Resynchronization.
Bound hand and foot, the girl looked at them like a cornered animal.
— You know, "Sly," — she said in a venomous tone, — I thought that after the whole slave thing, you couldn't possibly sink any lower.
— I didn't choose this path, — declared the smuggler, stroking the bacta patch applied to his leg. — Your father has screwed me over enough by depriving me of work and clients. So, blame him for what's happening.
— As always, you're shifting the responsibility to others, — the girl spat with feeling towards the smuggler. The saliva didn't reach the target by several centimeters, landing on the criminal's vest.
— You little...! — the portly man rose from his seat in the cockpit of the Pulsar Skate, rapidly approached the captive, raised his hand to strike the impudent girl...
Mirax Terrik shrank before the inevitable, closing her eyes. A second passed, then another, but the blow didn't follow. Only the smuggler's heavy wheezing.
The captive opened her eyes.
Niles Ferrier stood about half a meter from her, with his hand raised. But he wasn't looking at the one who had insulted him. He was trying to lock eyes with a young man dressed in black armor. One of those who had stormed her ship after, having fled the station, she found herself a captive of the defel — a creature capable of disguising itself in shadows. One of the smuggler's henchmen.
— What now? — Ferrier finally couldn't hold back. But judging by his voice, he was by no means intending to insist on his own in the matter of inflicting blows on the captive. — She insulted me!
— Do not dare to abuse the hostage, — the Imperial said in a calm, quiet, commanding, and authoritative voice. She had no doubt about it. She had seen with what precision and professionalism they had stormed her ship. How they searched it, how they discovered and disabled the secret mechanisms of the emergency beacons... Simple mercenaries didn't need that — if their goal was her or the ship. No, these were either active Imperials or renegades — and Terrik Jr. greatly doubted that they were interested in her ship. Or even the Twilight of the Killiks. They clearly wanted something else. But what exactly — she still couldn't figure out.
— As you say, — Sly snorted. — You shot me, by the way!
— Be glad I didn't aim a little higher, — the man in black armor replied just as calmly. Strangely, but this clearly wasn't the armor of Imperial stormtroopers, painted in a different color. Something clearly custom-made... Yes, she remembered. Assault suits, developed and sold on the black market. They were very popular among mercenaries who needed greater protection and mobility. And they cost a lot — about five to seven thousand per set. She had even seen them... among some mercenary and pirate groups. But which ones? She needed to remember...
This man was clearly the unit commander. And although she couldn't see his face due to the closed helmet, the conclusion was obvious — two guards in the same armor didn't even try to stop the smuggler, continuing to guard the exit from the cockpit of her ship. And this one, who had been digging around in her communications system until now, had reacted... Interesting, why? Imperials were never known for their manners. It was unlikely that these had a pang of conscience. Or were these not Imperials after all?
No, these were Imperials. Discipline, precision of action, clear military training... Definitely some kind of special unit. And again — what in Sith's name did they want from her?
— Go to the transmitter, Ferrier, — the leader of the "blacks" ordered the smuggler. — You have three minutes. The script is on the panel.
— I've done everything you wanted from me, — Sly suddenly whined. — I don't want to talk to Terrik!
So-o-o. And now it's becoming more or less clear.
They needed her father. She had heard from dealers on Nar Shaddaa that the Empire was looking for warships — and paying well for them. So, the Imperials wanted to exchange their hostage for the Seeker of Adventures! They had done it cleverly, the bastards. They lured her to the station under the guise of a call from a new client. They had staged a show for her that "Sly" had been captured by them. They killed her crew and forced her to flee the station on the Pulsar Skate. And as soon as she left the station — the defel attacked her, barely after she tried to use the communication system. Mirax knew perfectly well that the station where the meeting took place was being video recorded. So, the moment of the attack was recorded... And anyone who watched it would know that she had escaped on her ship. That she was not caught by those who were hunting Ferrier. She wondered if there were holocameras in this hangar? And if so, did they record sound? After all, her father would surely follow her trail, inquire, find out where she was last seen, and arrive at the station. They would give him absolutely everything — there would definitely be no one willing to defy an enraged Terrik, who had a whole (well, almost whole) Imperial Star Destroyer in his hands.
And what then?
Her father would look for her. It was unlikely that he would tell her husband, Corran. The relationship between them was far from warm... And yet? What was the Imperials' plan? Lure her father to the Bannistar station? But that was pure foolishness — it was New Republic territory (at least nominally loyal to it). Even considering that most of the weapons had been removed from the Seeker of Adventures, it still posed a significant threat. And it would cost him nothing to jump to hyperspace...
Unless they were luring her father into a trap from which he would no longer be able to escape on his ship. But... how did they intend to lure him anywhere, since he couldn't track her starship!
Mirax wanted to curse. But it was all so simple! "Sly" would now contact her father and transmit the coordinates of the meeting place! Where the Seeker of Adventures would be waiting for the Imperial Star Destroyer. Or maybe two. Or three. And they would bring in some kind of interdictor cruiser. And that's it.
She was distracted from her thoughts by a sound signal coming from the communication panel. A short beep of the system, indicating that an outgoing call was going through the network of repeaters to find her father. Not everyone could afford a direct call with the Seeker of Adventures. Booster Terrik had made it so that the signal, even from the closest ones, passed through hundreds of repeaters throughout the Outer Rim, where the ship had been hiding ever since the information about the Imperials searching for combat starships appeared on the HoloNet. Who, if not Terrik Sr., knew where to find a suitable hideout where even in the best years the Empire was afraid to stick its nose?
— My apologies for the inconvenience, — the voice of the same commander of the black soldiers brought her out of her thoughts. He knelt before her and deftly put a strip of special fabric on her head. The girl didn't even try to resist, perfectly understanding that it was a gag. Which slavers used on their victims. Surely, it was "Sly's" idea so that she wouldn't make a sound during the conversation with her father. But what a polite Imperial he turned out to be, huh?
After the gag was on the lower part of her face, and a mechanism on the back of her head tightened the fabric so that she couldn't even move her lips, the gallant Imperial lifted her to her feet and handed her over to the two guards. Without a sound, they led her out of the cockpit into a short corridor behind the control point. And they stopped. Um... What for? After all, she could see and hear everything perfectly from here.
The Imperials wanted her to watch as her father was lured into an ambush! Bastards! Now there was definitely no doubt — these were Imperials. Their intelligence service, for sure — they were out of their minds with all these subtle manipulations and multi-stage operations. True, most of these operations turned out to be compromised because of their complexity. So, there was a chance... It was just a shame that the holographic projectors only captured half a meter of space near them. If her father had seen that she was on the Pulsar Skate, he would have realized it was all a trap. Or if at least a little bit of the black stormtroopers' commander was in the projection zone... But no, he stubbornly stayed outside the communication panel. Clearly technically savvy.
Mirax sighed. And he would have come to her rescue anyway.
— What's the matter, daugh... — the miniature hologram of her loving father broke off, seeing Ferrier's face instead of Terrik Jr.
— "Sly"? — her father roared. — What in Hutt's name are you doing on board the Pulsar Skate?! A rancor split you, what did I tell you?! You get close to my girl — and you're a corpse!
— Booster, — Niles' voice for some reason acquired not plaintive, not begging, not triumphant, but... worried tones. You little bastard!? Now it's clear why the whole show was started at the station?! — Listen to me!
— I'll break your neck, "Sly", if something happens to my girl, — Terrik Sr. promised.
— Will you finally listen to me! — the smuggler squealed. — I have nothing to do with this!
— How did you end up on my daughter's ship? — Terrik Sr. bellowed. — Call her here and get off the Skate!
— Your daughter is not on this ship! — Ferrier sobbed like a child. — I found it abandoned in the coordinates that your daughter sent me for the meeting!
— Why would Mirax meet with such scum as you, Ferrier?! — a miniature giant with an artificial gaze growled threateningly.
— After you screwed me over with the deal, my employer decided to negotiate with you by providing my head in exchange for the resources they needed, — the smuggler began to speak quickly. So... how cleverly he avoided mentioning the Empire. And judging by everything — he had already turned to his father for help, but the latter sent him on a long interstellar journey. And then this worm came to her... So, who did he steal this painting from? From the Imperials or from someone else? It was naive to believe his tale back then in the hangar. And even more naive — to believe it now. He's lying. And he lied to her father, and he lied to her, and he's still lying now. Bastard! — I ran away, taking some antiques with me. I contacted Mirax to sell them. Unlike you, your daughter understands when it's possible to make money and doesn't act like a offended prude...
— "Sly", — Booster said in a calm but no less threatening tone. — If you mention my daughter's name again — I'll throw you into the reactor. Tell me where she is!
— During the deal, we were attacked by mercenaries, — said the smuggler. — Her second pilot and droid were killed. I was shot and captured, she escaped with the goods on her Pulsar Skate. My guys released me on the way to the bounty hunters' ship. I left Bannistar, contacted Mirax. She sent me these coordinates. But when I arrived here an hour ago — the Pulsar Skate was drifting in space. No trace of Mirax. I don't know what happened. Whether she abandoned the ship herself to cover her tracks, or she was taken — but the ship is turned inside out and won't fly anywhere. Mine is also damaged. You're the only one who doesn't give a damn about me in this situation. That's why I'm calling you from her ship. If I had called myself, you would have sent me...
— Coordinates! — Terrik barked. — And pray that everything is exactly as you said. Otherwise, I'll skin you alive!
— I want to help you! — Sly nearly sobbed. — I have huge debts. My last employers want their buzz droids. Everyone is hunting me!
— Because you're the most vile and dishonest guy I've ever dealt with, — Terrik snorted. Mirax understood — judging by the fact that her father had reduced the overtones of his voice, he had turned on his brain, ceasing to succumb to emotions. — I don't even need to guess that you, a Hutt's regurgitation, even in this situation, intend to find a benefit for yourself. But you guessed wrong, Hutt! I'll buy my girl another little ship! And I'll contact the Imperials to exchange her for the junk they need. And you, however, as always, will be left behind...
— No, Terrik, — there was regret in Sly's voice. So well-played that you could even believe it. — This is not the Empire...
— What?! — the owner of the Seeker of Adventures bellowed.
— What you heard! — Sly squealed. — These are the "Invids", you wild rancor! The "Invids" are hunting me!
— How did you manage to get involved with these thugs?! — If she could, she would have surely opened her mouth in surprise. The "Invids" pirate group? These in black — "Invids"?! One of the most daring and bloodthirsty bastards in the Mid Rim?!
Terrik Jr. turned her gaze to her guards. And indeed... she had seen fighters of their group in such armor on Nal Hutta. Elite fighters... But armor didn't mean anything yet! It was easy to buy! However, now it was clear why she thought that her jailers were Imperials. The "Invids" had a whole Star Destroyer at their disposal. With its entire crew and weapons, it had gone over to the side of their pirate queen. It was no wonder that they had professionals of boarding and capturing prisoners. They struck throughout the Mid Rim, leaving neither witnesses nor traces. It was unclear how they found their targets. They seemed to cooperate with no one...
— And who, in your professional opinion, needs buzz droids? — Ferrier asked almost crying. Mirax felt how this man became simply disgusting to her. — While the Empire is pinching the New Republic, the "Invids" are crushing the convoys of the latter. It seems they also decided to raid the Zann Consortium. Or they want to use their tactics with buzz droids. Or something else. Booster, I don't know! I'm a nobody! I get paid, I work!
— I'd like to know how you got away from them, — it seemed like her father was starting to guess.
— I'm not an idiot, Terrik, — the smuggler said with resentment in his voice. — I contacted them on an agreed frequency. I transmitted information from you to them...
— Did you even tell them that I offered them droids in exchange for your head? — it seemed that her father still had something to be surprised about.
— No, of course not! — Ferrier shook his head. Mirax bit her lip until it hurt. She tried to jerk, but one of the guards immediately twisted her arm, twisted her wrist so that from the pain she almost cried, falling to her knees. Bastards! — But they knew everything, Booster! Everything! You have a rat somewhere...
— Or you have a bug on your ship, "Sly", — Booster said. From the fact that her father was no longer roaring with anger, he was absorbed in the situation. He believed him! Terrik Jr. felt tears running down her cheeks. How she hoped that her husband's father-in-law would not be blinded by feelings so as not to heed the voice of reason and not realize that this was all one big deception! — And how did you steal the "Invids'" treasure if you didn't meet them in person?
The smuggler pretended to think about whether to tell the smuggler the truth or not. If not for the whole situation, he could have been advised to take acting classes! Bastard!
— I stole the antique from them before I got the assignment, — he said with a sigh. Terrik cursed filthily. Having heard a lot from her father, Mirax was amazed by the beauty and harmony of the lexical series, describing all the beauty of the vacuum inside the smuggler's skull.
— Get rid of the tracker, — Terrik ordered. — Search the ship from top to bottom before I arrive.
Mirax gritted her teeth. No, Dad, please! No!
— I thought about that too, — Ferrier said, smiling tensely. — Therefore, I got rid of the old starship as soon as I realized that they would rather cut off my head than let go of theirs. And with the last money I pulled off another deal and stole another little ship. But that one was shot down too! I had to shut down the reactor. If you allow it, I will take spare parts from the Pulsar Skate...
— Just try to put even one part from my daughter's ship on your miserable bucket! — Terrik Sr. roared. — I'm waiting for the coordinates.
— No, Booster, — Ferrier stubbornly refused. — I'm in deep shit and I have nothing to lose. I don't know where the stolen antique from the "Invids" is now, but buzz droids are my way to either shake them off my trail or buy myself some time.
— Okay, — the owner of the Seeker of Adventures said reluctantly. — I'll bring you buzz droids for... how many do you say? Five? Seven million?
— No, Terrik, — even from the corridor it was visible that Sly's eyes sparkled. — You were talking about buzz droids for twenty million! I need them all without exception!
— You won't miss your own, "Sly", — Booster said approvingly. — You'll get buzz droids. For twenty million. I'll bring everything I have — it's a little more than five hundred units. You'll take them out yourself. And now... COORDINATES!
— Okay, Booster, — Ferrier pretended to be looking for something on the control panel. Then, returning to the holoprojector, he dictated.
— I understand, — said Terrik Sr. — I'm not that far away. Wait for me in five days. And just try to disassemble the Pulsar Skate or run away — I'll skin you, you son of a bitch! This time — for real.
When the hologram went out, the commander of the black specialists rose, patted the smuggler, who had collapsed into the chair, on the shoulder.
— The deal is done, Mr. Ferrier, — looking at the girl, who was burning everyone present with a hateful gaze capable of heating a vacuum, he commanded:
— The fleet is arriving at the specified point. Prepare her for transportation...
A blow to the head brought her a sea of pain and sent her into oblivion. The last thing she managed to notice was how the blackness of the vacuum behind the cockpit of the Pulsar Skate was torn apart by the appearance of a ship with a wedge-shaped hull that was well-known throughout the galaxy.
But before she managed to pass out, she felt her body experience an ocean of pain.
***
— Too long, Grand Admiral, — Joruus C'baoth said like a capricious child, sitting in front of me. — You could have captured the Jedi long ago and delivered him to me!
You didn't need to possess the Force to understand — after these words, Mara Jade, sitting in the corner of my office, hidden by the darkness of the muted light and a cage with ysalamiri, had already pricked up her ears. No matter how much she demonstrated her obedience — she continued to gather information. Nothing critically important for my plans, only scattered pieces of data. To compare them — you would have to work hard.
— We've already discussed this, Master, — I say calmly, looking into the madman's eyes without fear. — And you acknowledged my rightness last time.
— But this time I do not recognize it! — the Jedi clone continued to grumble. — Even masters can be wrong!
— In that case, what remains for us, simple sentients? — I asked a rhetorical question.
— You keep leading me by the nose, Grand Admiral! — the old man once again grabbed his medallion. A wave of relaxation seemed to run over his face. — You want me to continue to help you, but at the same time you don't want to do the same for me and the Jedi Order in return!
— So, I understand, you are not going to argue your point of view? — I inquired, looking at the monitor screen. New reports have arrived from "Source Delta". I should spend time studying them in a timely manner again. There is no doubt that one day the New Republic will be able to find this eavesdropping system. And then the direct channel for transmitting information directly from the heart of Coruscant will be cut off. I should use the lead I had to the fullest extent. But again — sometimes, the ingenious recording device sent only streams of meaningless information from a strategic, as well as tactical point of view. Rumors, gossip, empty conversations of Senate employees. All this, without a doubt, could be used — if it was necessary to blackmail any of the senators. But at the moment I was more interested in what related to the humanitarian and military supplies of the New Republic. Several such convoys had already been intercepted by Yazua Vane's privateers — and now they were escorting the ships to the base for the division of spoils. But even more shipments remained unknown to us — not all official information was discussed by Republican senators and the military in the corridors. And it was a pity. But it was worth admitting — the opponent was very serious about the issue of information security. From those conversations, the recordings of which we managed to obtain, only senators, their assistants, and various employees "chatted". The military rarely exchanged opinions on the issues of changing the location of their forces, or more important aspects of their activities. Immediately after the attack on the Dafilvean sector, they did not fall silent for a week, stirred up by what had happened. And this made it possible to isolate several caravans and sic privateers on them. But the longer there were no major raids, the more the enemy calmed down. Well, fine. Let it be so. Soon, all the Star Destroyers would be commissioned, fully staffed with crews and equipment — and then we would begin another campaign of intimidation. At the same time, the first heavy dreadnought-type cruisers from the "Katana Fleet" should be commissioned by this time. All the combat-ready Star Destroyers with cargo of spare parts, technical teams, and a caravan of supplies, had already moved to the coordinates received from Captain Hoffner. It would soon become clear how exactly our affairs stood. The former smuggler himself was still at the base — in case of unforeseen circumstances. If the ship sent ahead of the main forces did not come into contact, did not report on the situation — we would know that Hoffner had betrayed us. And the fleet would stop its advance to its target. And the interrogators would take care of Comrade Karrde with triple the force.
— I don't need to argue it! — C'baoth flared up. — The Force itself tells me about it!
— Really? — I look at him studying. And interested. — So, you've learned how to bypass the abilities of ysalamiri, esteemed Master?
For a few seconds we fight with our eyes. And after that, the clone surrenders, looking away.
— I'm tired of waiting, Grand Admiral! — he grumbled. — You promised me a Jedi...
— I promised you assistance in their search, — I had to remind the old man of what our agreements were actually based on. — I offered you resources for their search — you failed to realize the opportunity provided to you. You didn't even try. I took over the case. And the plan will be implemented as I please. And in no other way. I ask you not to forget this.
On the one hand, it seems — but why do I need this madman? It seems that his necessity has already disappeared, because his search for the Jedi causes more problems than a positive outcome. And yet, this is not the case. I need him. I need him for now.
— The figures have been placed, esteemed Master, — I said, running my eyes over a line of report from the naval intelligence operatives. — We've made our moves, now it's up to you.
— What do you mean by that? — C'baoth narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
— In the simplest way, — I stated, leaning back in my chair and stroking the ysalamiri, who had settled comfortably on my lap. — I have just been informed that a suitable planet has been selected for you. Quite far from the inhabited worlds, a small settlement in a blooming corner. A very prosaic place to get lost comfortably from the entire galaxy. The very place where you will summon Corran Horn.
— Really? — the cloned Jedi said confusedly. — I... I...
— You can thank me later, — I said. — The planet has been found, rumors of your return are spreading. What Corran Horn treasures the most in the world — is in our hands. The bait is there — all that remains is to call.
— I can't do it from hyperspace, — the clone suddenly said. Anxiety and confusion splashed in his eyes. As if he was looking for a trap in my words. Correctly. Because that's exactly how it is. But he won't be able to understand it and realize it.
In reality, I am not interested in Joruus C'baoth's success in the issue of restoring the Jedi Order. Anyone — but not him. From the situation with the Horn couple, I am interested in completely different prospects. It just so happened that an opportunity arose to manipulate C'baoth's desire to get a Jedi for himself and achieve my own goal. After the Seeker of Adventures falls into my hands, I don't care at all whether Horn will survive the meeting with the mad Jedi, whether he will save his life, or everything will go downhill and the clone himself will suffer a sad fate.
A multi-level trap has been set up and is waiting for the moment when it will be necessary to work.
— Let's assume, — I agreed. Frankly, I don't need it right now. We have a stop ahead in order to load a special cargo on Tangrene and move to the desired star system. But extra information about the limits of the clone's capabilities will never be too much. If he can't do this even to lure his beloved Jedi — then he really can't establish mental contact with anyone outside the ship while traveling in hyperspace. Good. Useful observation. — In that case, you will have the opportunity to do so as soon as we leave hyperspace.
— Yes, yes, of course, — the clone's eyes gleamed greedily. — I have studied his appearance well. I will be able to find him and summon him...
— As you wish, Master, — I said indifferently. — After all, Horn is your future student. I don't care about him, — the cloned Jedi looked at me with surprise and suspicion. Yes, he may be insane, but sometimes very, very clever. It was not worth forgetting this. — We will take you to a planet that is ideally suited for starting the training of new Jedi as you see them. However, since you cannot invite your student there directly, using your Jedi abilities, I will have to use a number of my own forces to speed up the arrival of your future student to you.
— I would be extremely grateful to you for such an attitude towards my needs, — the madman muttered.
— I will ask you to participate in another operation, — I continued, ignoring his surprised and angry gaze. — It is necessary to deprive Corran Horn of the heavy support from his relatives. You understand — if you contacted Horn now — he would react instantly. As a result, there is a delay. My own plans are being disrupted. I'm asking for your assistance.
— Only if it doesn't take too long, Grand Admiral! — C'baoth hissed.
— The operation will take exactly as long as it will be necessary, — I said sharply. Seeing the unnatural gleam of madness in C'baoth's eyes, I add:
— You will arrive at the place much earlier than Horn. Much earlier. According to my information, he should only arrive at Sluis Van in four hours. We will be at our destination in three and a half. During the loading of supplies, you will be able to contact Horn to invite him to study with you. Two, at the most three days, he will need to digest the information, find out the necessary information, and decide — either to leave the Rogue Squadron and go on the search, or to try to persuade his command to give him leave. Another week or two — to find the necessary information — and he will come to you. The more he will be in despair and in the absence of information — the faster he will agree to meet you, he will understand that only you can help him. During this time, with your help, we will implement our operation, after which you will be left to yourself on the planet you have chosen.
— Be careful, Grand Admiral, — the cloned Jedi sternly moved his bushy eyebrows. — Even without the Force, I can recognize falsehood in your words.
— In that case, can you easily tell me what exactly it is? — I asked.
The old madman cast a wary, disgruntled look at me. But he didn't say anything. Because he didn't know anything and suspected nothing. The maniacal desire to get a Jedi at his disposal forced him to dull his vigilance. Concrete promises calmed him, stirring up again and again his desire to dominate. As the last surviving Jedi, and with such a heredity as C'baoth, the clone simply could not but agree. He was well aware — consciously or unconsciously — of his helplessness in this situation. He understood that he didn't have much of a choice — he would either help and get his own, or he would be left with nothing. And it was unlikely to be alive.
Yes, I need him — in a certain part. But even without him, I will be able to carry out what I have planned. It will just take a little more time and resources. He's a dangerous ally. And there was nothing easier than bringing them all together in a spider can.
— I agree, Grand Admiral, — he finally said. — But I warn you, if the waiting drags on — you will bitterly regret it!
— I have no desire to know the wrath of the Jedi Master, — it was time to play along with the madman, to convince him that even such powerful sentients as the Supreme Commander of the Empire could be afraid of him. An immeasurably inflated ego should continue to be inflated immeasurably. Like a balloon, it will one day burst. — You know you need me. And I — need you. Contact Corran Horn as soon as we arrive in orbit of Tangrene. Give him vague hints. Let him think with his head. Let him find certain answers himself. The more his logical conclusions, multiplied by emotions, will lean in your favor, the more willingly he will begin his training.
— Don't teach me how to raise Jedi, Grand Admiral! — clone C'baoth thundered hysterically, jumping up from his seat. His gray hair and beard soared like snakes on the head of Medusa Gorgon. But they immediately fell, because it was just the wind. Just a old man filled with powerless irritation, whose madness and emotions I intended to continue to play on. One of those dangerous assets in my possession that is better to get rid of immediately after any need for them disappears. C'baoth is undoubtedly good at his ability to coordinate military operations with the help of the Force. But he is dangerous. And his madness at one time, in events known to me, disrupted many operations of the original Thrawn. — You have no sensitivity to the Force! Only I, do you hear — ONLY ONE! Only I can correctly educate the new generation of Jedi!
— The very ones that are superior to the rest of the sentients because they are sensitive to the Force? — I calmly clarified, not taking my eyes off C'baoth. He, as always, when he encountered calm and authoritative resistance, cringed, deflating like a balloon.
— And because they are my students, — he said quieter. — I know what power is. Only me. Neither you nor Palpatine. Only I know what real power is...
— No one is disputing your point of view, — I said. — We have a few more hours before we arrive at the base, Master. I'll ask you to go to the infirmary.
— Why? — he looked at me suspiciously.
— There are pathogenic allergens on the planet where we intend to send you, — I said, completely unconcerned that C'baoth and Jade might recognize the lie. — Corran Horn has the necessary category of vaccinations against most of the galaxy's pathogens — as do most sentients in the galaxy. We want to be sure that you also have them. Your blood will be taken for analysis. If the necessary vaccinations are there — that's great. If not... As I said before — the Empire is contributing to the restoration of the Jedi Order. I don't think either you or I want Corran Horn, who will arrive to study with you, to find you chained to a bed because of some local fever.
The clone pondered my words for a while. Any adequate person would understand that this was a deception. But from the point of view of a madman...
— You are right, Grand Admiral, — the madman grabbed his medallion. — I must be absolutely healthy in order for my legacy to appear.
Without saying goodbye, he left my cabin silently, like a shadow. Leaving me alone.
Well, almost alone.
— He's insane, — Mara Jade said, emerging from the dark corner of the apartments. Even the muted light was enough to understand — the girl felt disgusted by what she had just witnessed.
— Were there doubts about my rightness? — I clarified, delving into the study of reports from Coruscant. The red-haired Hand, glancing disdainfully at the chair in which the clone had just been sitting, resolutely moved it aside with her foot and sat down in another.
— No, but... — she looked at me. I stopped reading the message about the flight of the commander of the Republican intelligence, General Cracken, to Sluis Van. As planned, the New Republic had begun the clean-up. — To see it with my own eyes...
The subtext was clear without words. Until now, she did not fully believe what I had told her about the madness of the cloned Palpatine. Now, she had seen with her own eyes the results of the experiments with cloning. And to put it mildly — she was not impressed. On the contrary, what I told her became more real. She, consciously or not, was now trying on the image of clone C'baoth on Palpatine. Slowly but surely, she was understanding how dangerous he would be.
In fact, that's what it was all about. You only needed to push her a little further. To show the true madness of C'baoth. And then she would no longer have any doubts about my rightness. After this operation, it would be possible to visit Mount Tantiss and solve the Hand's problem with Palpatine's last order. After that, she could be sent on independent assignments. Of which I had accumulated a considerable amount for her.
And without summoning Horn through the Force, the Corellian could have found a way to where we planned to land Joruus C'baoth. Scouts, who had failed in the search for "diggers," were eager to rehabilitate themselves in another field. Rumors spread through the HoloNet were full of necessary information. Exactly to the extent that they might seem like trustworthy speculation. If you give an experienced detective all the necessary information at once — he will never believe it. He'll look for a hidden meaning. And I'm sure he'll find it.
Therefore, I didn't lie in my conversation with C'baoth — Horn needed to find some answers himself. Only when he realized his inner sense of searching and analyzing information, he would be able to follow the path prepared for him. Well, and then... It would be clear later.
— It's wrong to entrust the upbringing of Jedi to him, — Mara Jade declared. — He will raise monsters, taking advantage of their immaturity. He will cloud their minds in the same way that Palpatine did to me.
— And yet, our mad clone must play his role in the formation of the Jedi Order. That is why Joruus C'baoth is dealing with Corran Horn, — I said. — A Core Security officer, a rebel, a member of Rogue Squadron, a hereditary Jedi, a healthy paranoiac, a man who was not broken by the dungeons of Lusankya and all the treachery of Isanne Isard, — I said. — The meeting with C'baoth will be nothing more than a waste of time for Horn. But a useful one. For us as well as for him.
Jade was silent for a while, looking at me with a squint of her emerald eyes. I continued to read the information from "Source Delta". Hmm... There is something useful. Senators were discussing the issue of strengthening convoys. At the expense of escort ships. Presumably. You could even say that they have dragged their feet on this. And this was already interesting... Several Senate employees were sharing information with each other that their employers — the senators — were beginning to doubt Ackbar's loyalty. It was said that it was because of his consent to the disarmament of the ships that the attack on the Dafilvean sector and the defeat of the local group had become possible. Interesting. Promising. Especially considering the fact that there were transfers of sectoral fleets, where it was planned to return some of the Mon Calamari star cruisers to ensure stability. First of all, because of the attack on Pantolomin — to the First Fleet, covering Coruscant and the Core Worlds. Useful information.
— Are you sure that C'baoth won't be able to infect Horn with his madness, — this was not even a question. It was a statement of fact. I stopped looking at the information on the screen and looked at the girl.
— Yes, I'm sure, — I said calmly.
— Why not Skywalker? — she asked. — After all, he is a trained Jedi knight. If the goal of this game with the Jedi is to get rid of C'baoth, then he would be the best fit for this.
How curious. She was talking about the elimination of C'baoth, but not offering herself. Why? Because she understood that for the simple elimination of a mad clone I would not need a Jedi — a cage with ysalamiri and a blaster would be enough? Or was it because she was afraid that he would be able to get into her head? I'm sure it's the second. Therefore, she was not even trying to offer using the madman to rid her of Palpatine's legacy. She understood perfectly well that letting such a person... such a creature into her mind was incredibly foolish and dangerous.
— I need Skywalker for something else, — I said.
— To get rid of the resurrected Palpatine? — it was no more than a successful guess.
— Among other things, — I agreed. — However, no matter how strong Darth Vader's offspring is now, there is no certainty that a boy who grew up on Tatooine and has not experienced any significant hardship until recently can recognize the true motives of C'baoth without outside help, — and in the events known to me, it was Mara Jade who led him to this idea by coming for him during Skywalker's brief training with C'baoth. Until then, Skywalker had been trying to realize his unfinished gestalt with saving the fallen Jedi and returning him to the Light Side of the Force without a fatal outcome. And since Mara Jade was under my command, and I did not want to bring them together with Skywalker without any extra need, the options for the development of events were practically impossible to predict. — Moreover, as it was correctly noted — C'baoth should not be allowed near children under any circumstances. And Skywalker has a sister.
— Leia Organa-Solo, — Mara Jade nodded. — Pregnant with twins by Han Solo.
— Whether the children will be Jedi or not will only be shown by time, — I said. — But if the children are still sensitive to the Force, if they are as powerful as Darth Vader himself or Luke Skywalker... The idea of getting two powerful and obsessed with the idea of "correct" power, which presupposes the complete subordination of sentients to the Jedi, frankly, does not seem promising to me.
— So, — Jade narrowed her eyes. — Transferring Horn to C'baoth is no more than a game.
I nodded affirmatively. A very promising one. Especially considering the fact that I intended to keep Horn in C'baoth's company for as long as possible. The depth of madness must be understood by the Republican Jedi as accurately as possible. As I said, Joruus C'baoth will play his role in the restoration of the Jedi Order. The weakening of Palpatine's future opponents on one front should be compensated by an accelerated understanding of the problem of the lack of Jedi in the New Republic — on the other. C'baoth has shown me how effective Jedi can be in the military. Now it's time to throw the idea of restoring the Order to those who can directly resolve this issue. To Luke Skywalker, for example. He was still on Sluis Van. A dangerous game "of Jedi," in fact. If the Jensarrai are on my side — this is an advantage. Because no matter how hard Skywalker tries, even if he starts training the Jedi in everything he knows, now or in a month, or whenever — he will not prepare worthy opponents for Palpatine and his henchmen. On the contrary. Our Jedi will be excluded from global politics and military campaigns for a long time, first searching, and then training the Jedi. Which Palpatine would either destroy or entice to his side. Luke himself would inevitably end up next to Palpatine. It was not in much doubt that, like his father, he would return to the teachings of the Jedi, and the Skywalker and Solo family would defeat Palpatine. Plot armor, so to speak. Surely it will work this time too. If not... The Mau cluster held an ultimate solution to the problem with the population of entire planets in its depths. A joke, of course. No matter how much Skywalker burrowed into the Dark Side, his sister and friends would always pull him out of this abyss. And the New Republic would have its own Jedi. Whether they fell to Palpatine's side in the coming years or not, they will always be. And their presence gives the New Republic the basis for hegemony in the galaxy. I absolutely did not like this balance of power — it spoiled the possibility of concluding a truce.
Well, I am sure that after the Terrik family plays their roles, some of the Jensarrai will accept my offer. And unlike the New Republic, I will have trained adepts of the Force. Which can be strengthened if I dig into my memory and recall where in this galaxy I can find holocrons or something like that.
Well, and Skywalker... In the end, it doesn't matter at all whether Skywalker kills his fallen disciples or goes into exile — he will cease to be an obstacle in further plans. But I am sure that the young Jedi will not give up. In many ways, he is the voice of reason. And if so, then through all the trials he has gone through, he will be tempered. And he will look at things more soberly. It would be... rather amusing if it was the Republican Jedi who lobbied for the interests of a peace treaty with the Empire. My Empire.
— You are taking not only C'baoth, but Horn himself out of the campaign, — she said. — You are weakening Rogue Squadron...
— Whether Horn goes on leave to search for his wife, or deserts — we will use this information for our own purposes, — I said. — The New Republic loves heroes who sacrifice everything in the name of saving the innocent. Rogue Squadron is one of the most widely advertised units of our adversary. They had already conducted a propaganda campaign after our raid on the Dafilvean sector, where they assured the locals that we would never attack again, that from now on they were under reliable protection. For the same purpose, they are moving to the Sluyissi sector. As soon as the information about the disappearance of his wife reaches Horn, — Mara raised her eyebrow slightly, — he would surely try to find her. He is a Corellian, he is a Jedi. And this is actually a diagnosis and an extremely predictable mixture. He will follow the trail and find C'baoth.
— But not his wife, — Jade noted.
— His wife will play her role, — I noted. — Several, even. It is interesting that Horn's wife is the daughter of Booster Terrik, who owns a Star Destroyer. But she is also practically the sister of Wedge Antilles — the commander of Rogue Squadron. It was unlikely that Antilles would leave his post with Horn in search of his wife, but circumstances would be such that Antilles would also have something to do, torn between duty and family ties.
— And as soon as Rogue Squadron loses one or two of its pilots — this fact will be used against the New Republic, — Mara Jade nodded understandingly. I did not consider it necessary to answer. The smart woman had deciphered two-thirds of the plan. Which already directly spoke about the fact that she was damn smart and cunning. — I take my words back, Grand Admiral.
— Which ones? — I inquired.
— During our conversation on Tangrene, I said that the journey to the Unknown Regions had not changed you for the better, — she said. — I was wrong. You have become even more cunning and refined in your ability to manipulate your opponent.
— Thank you for the flattering assessment of my abilities, Mara Jade, — I replied. — You will lead the boarding of the Seeker of Adventures.
— Booster Terrik's ship? — she clarified. — He is a good friend of Karrde's, isn't he?
— Does this bother you? — I inquired. I didn't need a struggle of loyalties within one cunning and intelligent person. Of course, we will not be able to kill all the members of Booster Terrik's crew. Some of them will be taken prisoner — including Corran Horn's father-in-law himself. And when they are released — Terrik will have many questions for Karrde. Which will begin with an interest about how it happened that his former subordinate ended up on the side of the Empire and took Terrik's ship from him. If by that time the Claw had begun to take over Terrik's business, the friendly tandem would crack. I did not know for certain, but I guessed that in the environment in which they both circulated, such information would spread quite widely. And when Karrde needed help from other smugglers — the latter would think three times before nobly responding to such a call. Paranoia and suspicion always went hand in hand with illegal dealers.
— It doesn't bother me at all, — Jade replied. — But if we remove Terrik from his niche of information space for a long time or forever, then... someone will pick up his illegal or partially legal business, won't they?
— The most obvious candidate for this would be Karrde, — I said, looking at another message on the screen. The squiggles of the decipherer's work ran by... — Especially since, according to Leia Organa-Solo's report, Karrde, during his meeting with her on the planet Filve, expressed his interest in participating in commercial shipments for the New Republic.
— Personally? — Jade was surprised.
— No, — I replied, having finished reading the report. — He promised his assistance to the New Republic in forming the necessary interest among smugglers. However, I am sure that one way or another, he will participate in this business. The transportation of goods is an excellent excuse for gathering information. And collecting the latter is his main business.
— It is very similar to the fact that the Claw is inevitably choosing its side, — Jade narrowed her eyes. I wondered how she would react if I looked at her reproachfully right now and asked: "And didn't I warn you?". But those were just childish jokes. It was not worth humiliating an ally like that. As in the case with Horn, she needed to get to some things herself. The more necessary conclusions Mara Jade made with the help of her own reasoning, the less questions and distrust she would have about what she would not be able to check in the future. The unwritten rule of domestic statistics: "A half-truth is better than a lie."
— We will monitor the situation, — I said. — Karrde and his organization, who have sided with the New Republic, are a worrying sign for us. He has too many connections in the Empire — and this may damage our own plans. Before encountering such an opponent, you should secure your rear from the annoying influence of his agents.
— You can't trust the Imperial Security Bureau or Imperial Intelligence, — Mara Jade continued her thought. — Should I take care of this?
— No, — I handed her an infochip. The girl obediently took it in her hands. — Before the operation against Booster Terrik begins, I would like this chip to contain the code that allows you to enter the central computer of an Imperial starship without attracting attention.
The empty information storage device swayed slightly in her fingers. It carefully landed on the table. The girl looked up at me with her green eyes, like the purest emeralds.
— Now it's clear why on the Nemesis I was denied access to the ship's information environment, — she smiled. Her hand lay on one of the many pockets of her jumpsuit. The sound of a zipper being unzipped could be heard. — I've been wondering when this question would be asked.
An information chip lay on the table in front of me. Unlike the one I handed the girl, judging by the indicator, this one contained data. A lot of data.
— All those secrets about the Imperial fleet that Palpatine told me while I was working for him, — she said, pushing the chip towards me with her index finger.
Looking the girl directly in the eyes, I nodded almost imperceptibly. The girl was really worth staging a whole performance for her sake. What she had seen and heard today was enough for her to share with me the secrets that were known either only to her, or only to Palpatine's Hands. That was worth a lot. At the very least, it proved that she was beginning to trust me. But this was not yet loyalty. After the completion of the current operation, it will be clear whether she was ready to act until the very end.
— Thank you, Mara Jade, — I said, pulling the chip towards myself. — You saved me several days of work.
— More like months, or even years, — she smiled. — I hope this is enough for you to give me at least some data for future missions?
— Of course, — I agreed. Turning to the computer, I transferred the information for her to an unclaimed chip. — After visiting Mount Tantiss and fixing the problems, the investigation of this incident will be your goal.
— Really? — Mara looked at me with interest. — And what is it?
— The SSD Guardian, — she even shuddered. Barely noticeably, but still. She quickly drew in her head what Thrawn could do... No, not like that. What I could do, having the "sister ship" of the Executor at my disposal.
— I heard that it was destroyed, — she noted.
— The galaxy is full of rumors and speculation, — I confirmed. — I hope you don't believe them. Because this ship survived. And I need it.
***
In the life of a "X-wing" pilot, there are many pleasant, even exciting moments. A combat mission, for example, when you engage in an attack with Imperial pilots. And only your reaction, the strength of your shields and your piloting skills decide — whether you will win or remain in the vacuum in the form of several hundred or thousands of debris.
Many people who are not familiar with this issue believe that the TIE fighters, which are in service with the Empire and its remnants, completely lose to the "X-wings", "A-wings" and other equipment that is in service with the New Republic. Well, except that the "Y-wings" are still... useless. But they try not to talk about this to the "Y-wing" pilots. "Y-wings" are the pain of everyone who has managed to fly them and return from a mission alive. But their pilots will never admit it. Not because they were ashamed. But because everyone who gets on a "Y-wing" is sure that it is a great machine capable of destroying its opponent without any problems. And they give this or that case as arguments...
In fact, the pilots of the "Y-wings" understand perfectly well that they are hopelessly behind the times. That's what the pilots of the "A-wings" think, rushing through space at breakneck speeds and looking down on everyone else. The pilots of the "A-wings" are a separate pain. The pilots of the "A-wings" need to be punched in the teeth first, and only then have a dialogue with them. This was a well-known, but carefully hidden truth.
Recently, the "A-wings" rarely flew long distances anywhere except in the hangars of starships. They had become lazy.
But the pilots of the "X-wings" were quite happy with their machine. How many "A-wings" or "Y-wings" participated in the attack on the Death Stars? How many of them delivered the fatal blow? Well, that's it. The "X-wing" was the workhorse of the entire New Republic air fleet. Therefore, no matter how much politicians praised new models of fighters or interceptors, the "X-wings" were, are, and will be. In one form or another.
Upon hearing a message from his astromech, Whistle, Corran Horn reluctantly fidgeted in the seat of his machine.
Everything is great in the "X-wings" — especially the balance between speed, weaponry and protection. That is why the "X-wings" often participate in various combat missions. And they almost always come out of them as winners.
And in the light of this, it becomes unclear...
— Why couldn't they have made the seat softer in the fighter!? — Corran grumbled for the umpteenth time, opening his eyelids. As always happens in such situations, his back was numb. And it gave truly magnificent moments after waking up. Those who don't believe it — try it yourself from time to time to fly through half the galaxy for several days locked in the cockpit of your "X-wing" without the ability to stretch your arms or legs. Not to mention the banal human needs.
Because, despite all the positive aspects of serving as an "X-wing" pilot, there are also disadvantages.
First of all, you often have to while away your time in ambushes throughout the galaxy. Pirates, Imperial remnants, pirates again, some particularly daring and armed upstarts who do not want to obey the law... The list of reasons why an "X-wing" in the company of its squadron members might find itself in an ambush is almost endless. And it was sad. Well, why couldn't they recall one or two Mon Calamari star cruisers from their useless transportation across the galaxy and not give a normal ship to accompany an entire princess, instead of twelve "X-wings"?
Yes, in the hard lot of an "X-wing" pilot, especially if you have a neat emblem of Rogue Squadron painted on your fuselage, there is another negative — the command simply loves to send you on various kinds of "demonstration missions." Across the galaxy...
— Yes, I'm already awake! — Corran grumbled peevishly, rubbing his eyes with his palms. Astrodroid Whistle once again burst into a trill, in which he bravely and no less angrily reminded his owner that he himself had asked him to wake him up in all possible ways. Which the faithful droid had done. And there was no need for any dissatisfied exclamations here!
Stretching — as much as the size of the canopy and the cockpit as a whole allowed — Corran tried to come to his senses as quickly as possible. The timer on the dashboard was counting down the last minutes before his "X-wing" arrived at its destination. And the same thing that happened in the Dafilvean sector would start all over again — flights through the systems, "showing off", assurances that the Empire would never repeat such raids again...
It only remained to understand — was this deception for those who had suffered from the actions of the Imperials, or was it self-deception after all. Because at his previous place of service, in Core Security, Corran had learned to perceive any information skeptically. And if he had lived on any of the attacked planets, then having heard something like that from someone... He would have doubted it. Very much.
But only because he himself was part of the armed forces of the New Republic. And he understood how difficult their situation was at the moment. As well as the fact that it was impossible to provide protection to every planet that was part of the young state. Simply because the New Republic's fleet was significantly inferior to the one the Galactic Empire had at the peak of its power. There were more than twenty thousand Star Destroyers alone — not counting other types of starships. And even that was not enough to properly control what was happening in the galaxy. The New Republic would not be able to achieve such a number with all its desire — not because it could not, but because the Senate would consider such an approach absolutely foolish and financially unprofitable.
The New Republic knew how to count its money. And they loved it.
And they didn't care that their exhausted soldiers also had those who were waiting for them at home. And loved them.
— Whistle, — he addressed his little companion. — As soon as we land on Sluis Van, remind me to contact Mirax. I miss her...
It became somehow melancholic and inexplicably sad inside from the fact that another "mission of bravado" was distancing him from his beloved woman. Very melancholic...
Corran became wary, feeling that an unpleasant, sucking feeling was forming inside him at the mere thought of Mirax Terrik, his wife. It was the same feeling he had several years ago when he held his father's dying body in his arms...
The pilot broke out in a cold sweat. What was this?! What's wrong with him?! Memories, or were these the Jedi tricks that Luke Skywalker had told him about? The Force? Yes, that's what he called it when he was persuading Corran to join him and become a Jedi...
Horn felt that he had started breathing more sharply and deeply. Very familiar behavior of his own body. As if he was still a Core Security operative and had gone out hunting for an enemy. Internal sensations of unstoppable trouble, a premonition of danger — something his father had asked him to trust all his life. Directly or indirectly, without revealing the fact that he was a Jedi apprentice and that Corran himself had inherited this dangerous gift from him until his death.
A gift that he did not want and did not want to develop.
A gift that was telling him that Mirax was in danger.
A gift that had just put him in a position to choose — to continue his mission as a Rogue Squadron pilot, or to rush headlong in search of his own wife.
Because the same Skywalker said — premonitions did not deceive a Jedi. Hmm... or was it not? No, it seemed like it was... Oh no, the Jedi said just the opposite.
But this didn't change what was happening. As soon as they got to Sluis Van, he would immediately contact Mirax. If his gut feeling failed him this time... Strangely enough — but he would only be happy about that. It was quite possible that this was just worry and nothing terrible was happening...
And in the very next second, he felt that there was someone else in his head besides himself. A wild, surreal feeling of duality and wrongness of what was happening overtook him at the very moment when he had already reached for the lever to turn off the hyperdrive. Yes, it was still early, but...
"I know where she is," a deep, well-placed, authoritative, and majestic voice invaded his consciousness so suddenly that Corran was caught off guard and slammed his back into the back of the seat.
"Come to me, Corran Horn," the same voice repeated, and this time a blurry image of a person appeared before the pilot's eyes... A powerful old man, with a strong-willed face, attentive eyes, and a heavy gaze. His gray hair and tousled beard fluttered, caught by gusts of wind... And he was looking straight into the eyes of the Rogue Squadron pilot.
"Come, Corran Horn," the alien thought again cut through his mind. — "And you will find her. I'll show you how."
And after that the vision disappeared. As if it had never existed.
And only Whistle's hysterical howl tore Corran from the embrace of... it was unknown what.
— What minutes? — Horn frowned, looking at the timer. When he reached for the lever, there were seven minutes left before exiting hyperspace. Now... Two seconds!
The pilot brought the machine into real space. The light tunnel broke apart, and in front of them, the welcoming lights of the orbital docks of Sluis Van appeared. And the wide stern of the Millennium Falcon, which had exited hyperspace at a considerable distance from them. And apparently — had arrived earlier. The commander of this legendary freighter, only out of respect for the no less legendary unit, was waiting for their arrival, without interfering in the crush of a huge array of the most diverse starships — from decrepit freighters to huge Mon Calamari cruisers — clustering in orbit of Sluis Van near the cargo terminals. And now the Rogues could admire not only the beauty of this traffic jam, but also the snow-white exhaust of the nozzles of the Millennium Falcon flying in front of a dozen "X-wings" of the escort. Everything, as it should be for an escort.
Corran, having reported on the serviceability of all systems, secretly wiped the sweat from his forehead. He asked Whistle to repeat it. The talkative astromech was never one to hold his tongue...
He had fallen out of reality for a good seven minutes! He just sat there, tense as a coiled spring, with his hand. Frozen on the hyperdrive handle, looking at one point and not moving. And although astromechs were not programmed for emotions, by his own admission, Whistle had almost experienced a short circuit from what he saw.
— I don't like all this, — Corran swallowed the lump in his throat. Something was happening. But he didn't know what. — I need to contact Mirax urgently!
Clicking the communication frequency switch, he opened a channel to communicate directly with the commander of Rogue Squadron.
— Sir, I don't want to be a pessimist, but it seems like my family has big problems...