Nine years, seven months, and seven days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or forty-four years, seven months, and seven days after the Great Resynchronization.
After looking at the lines of the reconnaissance team commander's report, I set the datapad aside and met the agent's gaze:
— The capture of Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker's starfighter as a trophy is excellent work, Agent Inek, — I said.
— Glad to serve, Grand Admiral Thrawn, — the operative replied briskly.
— The Jedi's onboard computer is already with the codebreakers, — I said. — A substantial reward is due to you for this prize.
— If they manage to decipher it, sir, — the scout said cautiously. — As we understand it, the computer and the droid have established some unknown digital link... They may even be exchanging encrypted messages with an unknown encoding.
— This case is known, — I said, — though not widespread. It occurs in the absence of long-term memory erasure of the astrogation droid and the onboard computer.
At least, that's the only way I've encountered information about it. It's quite useful when you don't intend to trade in your starfighter for another ship. Or astromech. Because the onboard computer simply won't be able to work with another droid. And lengthy cleaning, scrubbing, and fitting procedures will be required. This detrimental effect is very difficult to get rid of — which affects the subsequent sale of the aircraft. The closest analogy that came to my mind is selling an apartment with unplanned and unauthorized renovations. You can still pawn it off on someone — if the person doesn't understand housing law. But problems will arise when оформлении documents... Just like trying to legalize someone else's construction vandalism. I know from experience — once in a past life, I acquired a home where the previous owner had turned the living room, kitchen, and loggia into one large "studio." I bought it without much trouble — in those years, they turned a blind eye to such things. But when I tried to sell it under relatively new legislation, it turned out that the buyers were more legally savvy than I had been at the time. And no one wanted to acquire a housing headache with a load-bearing wall removed. So it hung like a dead weight until I saved up enough money to return everything to how it was. But even after that, I couldn't recoup the funds invested in the reconstruction when selling and согласования по всем инстанциям. Either I'm so unlucky, or you have to think first about what you're acquiring and in what condition.
— I hope when you installed the beacon inside the droid, you copied its memory banks? — I inquired.
— They were also handed over to the codebreakers, — Torin nodded. — As I understood it, the astromech's memory core is also encrypted with some wild code that made our specialists "hurt."
— Not to worry, — I said. — It's their job. I have a new assignment for you.
— Ready to carry it out, sir, — the agent replied briskly. — My team and I can begin immediately.
— For starters, you have time to rest, — I noted. — Use it wisely. Or to prepare for the operation.
The agent nodded silently and barely perceptibly in agreement. But I can see in his eyes that he's eager to hear about the upcoming mission. Well then, very good. Let's begin the assessment of professional and personal suitability.
— Now, about the assignment itself, — I said. — Have you heard the tale of the Munificent-class star frigate named Sa Nalaor?
The agent's eyes popped.
— Yes, sir, — he said.
— And what do you know about it? — I inquired.
— It's a legendary ship, especially among smugglers, scavengers, and treasure hunters, — the scout said, clearly perplexed. — Some beings claim that this starship was a flying bank of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, and its holds are filled with cash in dozens of currencies, precious stones, metals, and secret technologies. However, it supposedly disappeared during the CIS surrender to the Empire. There were rumors among Imperial Intelligence that some patrol starships had even detected its transponder code somewhere on the border of the Outer Rim and the Unknown Regions at the end of the Clone Wars. Special expeditions were even organized to search for the ship. Governments, intelligence, the fleet, treasure hunters, smugglers, and various carrion birds wanting quick enrichment. As far as I know, no one has ever found this ship. And after the rumor spread that most of the fortune hunters had disappeared without a trace, there were very few who wanted to find the ship.
— You're quite well-informed regarding what is considered a space legend, — I noted.
— Always considered it nothing more than a tall tale, sir, — he replied restrainedly.
— Just as most of the galaxy's population believed that the Katana Fleet was nothing more than a trap for simpletons, — I noted.
The operative became subdued.
— Sorry, sir, — he mumbled.
— No need to apologize, Agent, — I said. — You're merely demonstrating the typical attitude of competent beings to this matter. Which only plays into our hands.
— How so, sir? — Inek tensed.
— This ship has been searched for for more than twenty-five years, — I said. — And with each year — more eagerly and effectively. No search has been successful. The official reason for the failures among all the treasure hunters is that such a starship didn't exist in nature and was invented by those who wanted to profit from treasure seekers.
— I personally heard of twelve Imperial expeditions aimed at searching for this ship, — Torin stated. — I know nothing about the results.
— But for me, this episode of the Clone Wars is no longer a mystery, — a mixture of surprise and interest flashed in the scout's eyes. — The hunt for the Sa Nalaor was unsuccessful because they were looking for the ship. But you need to find, — I pointed the man to the edge of my desk, — its crew.
Following my gesture, the scout sat down on the indicated chair, facing me.
— Do you know the name of the Sa Nalaor's commander? — I inquired.
— Not entirely, sir, — the scout admitted. — Many years have passed since I, as a young cadet, was fond of such stories.
— His name is Rel Harsol, — I said, flashing knowledge gleaned from the archives aboard the Black Perle. When you have a thousand identical ships under your command at once — it's very foolish to make only three of them similar to each other not only in appearance, but also in every possible parameter. Distracting attention from the real flagship is nothing more than a tall tale that will only work once or twice. Until the enemy realizes that the same ship cannot be in three different and remote locations at the same time. No, it's mostly insurance, which is needed in case one of the starships breaks down or is destroyed. After all, there's nothing more demoralizing than the death of the fleet's flagship, is there? So, whoever gave such an order, he made sure that, moving from ship to ship, the commander-in-chief had access to all the necessary data. Or is the presence of an archive with detailed data about the Separatist fleet ships standard practice for the CIS fleet? Unfortunately, it was not possible to find this out — the Empire took care to ensure that as much information about the Separatists as possible was consigned to oblivion. But I highly doubt that this is the case — otherwise, the ship would have been found long ago, based on data about the crew members. After all, if a ship is missing, then why not search for it not simply by identification data and port records, as rescue services do, but using specifics? — A former officer of the Old Republic who defected to the Confederacy of Independent Systems. For some time, he served as an officer on General Grievous's flagship — the Invisible Hand. After which he received the frigate we are looking for under his command. Obviously, Rey Harsol's foresight allowed him to foresee the logical outcome of the CIS defeat, so he managed to survive when the command came to deactivate the battle droids. Which, in fact, became the reason for the appearance of the ship's legend.
— If Hardin disappeared along with his crew, it may be problematic to find him, — Torin frowned. Well, it's good that he didn't say "impossible." In that case, I would have to part with him and move him from the "intelligent" category to the "just good executor" category. — Even impossible. If they are at least a little smarter than droids, then, even if they are not involved in the disappearance of the ship, they have long changed their names and places of residence.
— Without a doubt, — I agreed. — The analytical department has already conducted searches through the Empire's databases. The Sa Nalaor's known crew members disappeared from view in the same way as their captain, as their starship.
Confusion appeared on the scout's face.
— Then... — he paused for a moment. — Perhaps we should start the search from the last location of the Sa Nalaor? If there are archival records left, we can try to calculate the vector of a possible jump based on control and dispatch data...
What I like about this kind of communication with executors is that they voice their thoughts out loud. And I glean the information I'm interested in about the actions of this or that fleet service in order to broaden my own horizons. Quickly and practically. Of course, I have to refer to reference information for many explanations, but it's worth it. How much new and interesting things this galaxy holds... If I were a couple or three decades younger, I would surely only calm down now and stop looking at every corner on board the ship with shining eyes, admiring its execution and the very fact of my appearance in the literary universe... Well, with age you acquire an inherent stateliness. Or in my youth, I too often read books by Timothy Zahn and Michael Stackpole dedicated to the adventures of Grand Admiral Thrawn, Mara Jade, Talon Karrde, Wedge Antilles, Corran Horn, and other iconic characters that what is happening in reality has not become something akin to an emotional shock for me. Or does the physiology of the Chiss not lend itself to hormonal shocks? Curious. I would like to study my own biology. However, first I should find the necessary qualified personnel who know how to keep their mouths shut. However, partly for this reason, I decided to devote part of my attention to the search for the Sa Nalaor. Besides riches, there is something more valuable in this ship — technology. And very specific specialists.
— The analytical unit has already done part of this work for you, — in fact, this was done by clones of the reconnaissance and counterintelligence direction, who had recently arrived on Tangrene. So to speak — primary data processing and verification of the professional suitability of the best of Himron and Astarion's subordinates. — The Sa Nalaor, along with other starships, was engaged in guarding the Separatist research complex in the Salvara system in the Mid Rim. This center was engaged in the creation of advanced cyborgs.
— I've heard of something like that, — Agent Inek tensed up. — The Empire has long hunted for their advanced developments. They say that no one has been able to replicate them to this day.
— An interesting fact, — I said. — General Rom Mohc, the creator of the Dark Trooper Project, showed interest in the developments of the complex on Salvara.
— Now I understand the reason for the Empire's interest in searching for this ship, — the operative smiled unkindly. — I've never seen Dark Troopers in action, but I've heard that a couple of soldiers could destroy an entire enemy base.
— These aren't rumors, — I replied calmly. — These droids possess impressive combat qualities, — and those fragments that we managed to collect after Vjun aboard the Nemesis are now under close attention and study. If I have problems with human personnel, then why not shift part of the responsibilities to advanced droids?
— We could use at least a company of those, — the scout said dreamily. As if I don't know. I want them myself. But they're not so easy to study, and there's nothing to say about reproduction — it wasn't possible to get any readable droid schematics from any of the fragments.
— You should indulge in daydreams elsewhere, — I advised. The scout instantly lost the joy and relaxation on his face, apologizing quietly. — Captain Harsol made frequent departures on his ship in an unknown direction during the last year of the Clone Wars. Short in duration, however, they were necessarily accompanied by the appearance of expensive household items and luxury goods among members of his crew.
— He was engaged in smuggling unrecorded advanced developments, — the scout instantly determined. — This is the only way to earn a large sum of money in a short time. It's strange that the Separatist counterintelligence didn't ask him questions about these absences.
— I'm sure you'll uncover this mystery as well, Agent, — I said-wished, handing an information chip to the scout. — Here's all the information that the analysts were able to get from the old Separatist archives. Start searching when you're ready.
— Yes, sir, — the man said, rising from his seat and taking the data storage device from my hand. — If this ship hasn't been destroyed, I'll find it. Definitely.
— Don't make a habit of making promises, Agent, if you're not sure of the inevitability of their fulfillment, — I advised.
— With all due respect, sir, I've never acted rashly, — Inek stated, meeting my gaze directly. Receiving permission to depart, he left my apartments.
After looking at the door that had closed behind the man for a while, I turned my gaze to one of my monitors. After calculating the possible scenarios, I placed a corresponding symbol next to the name of this being.
Let's see how he deals with the search for the Sa Nalaor. I like his diligence. But his loyalty...
Well, I can be served by both the original and a more faithful clone. Perhaps even more than one.
***
His teeth were chattering.
Wedge Antilles was shaking as if he had come out of a stuffy steam room into the cold, and not just anywhere, but on Hoth. And decided to take a walk around Echo Base naked.
Of course, the morgue was cold, but apparently not as cold as he imagined. The Corellian, accustomed to death on the battlefield, was shaking violently from one glance at the morgue's dissection room. The place where shiny tables and deathly pale облицовочные tiles reigned. In this realm, forensic droids and beings of the same specialty performed autopsies and studied corpses.
Being here and contemplating the process itself was certainly forbidden to most of the residents of the Government Quarter of Coruscant, however, as it turned out, being the youngest general in the Armed Forces of the New Republic has its advantages. You can get access to where you want... Of course, if those in higher positions don't see anything reprehensible in this.
This time, Wedge was lucky enough to enter where he needed to along the lines of the Republican intelligence, but he was firmly convinced that this loophole was one-time.
Footsteps sounded at the far end of the corridor, and Wedge was grateful to the owner of these clacking heels for giving him the opportunity to look away from contemplating the systematic dissection of corpses.
— Well, look at that? — came the surprised voice of Iella Wessiri, who owned these wonderful shoes. Wedge blew a strand of hair out of his eyes with a stream of air, as usual. — Hello, Wedge.
— Hi, — he waved his hand. — Glad you came.
— I didn't think you were interested in such places, — the scout threw out a пробную удочку, suspiciously looking at the pilot who had risen to meet her.
Iella Wessiri.
— You're right about that, — Antilles bit his lip. — I know how to dismantle enemy pilots and their equipment, but to see with my own eyes how they do it to living people...
The scout smiled condescendingly.
— Wedge, the only living people here are the two of us.
The Corellian frowned.
— But you understood what I meant? — he looked at the woman with hope, into whom he had been hopelessly in love since the capture of Coruscant. How many years has it been? Two? Three? It doesn't matter. First, he didn't want to disturb her emotional wounds, which hadn't healed after the death of her own husband at her own hand, who turned out to be a "sleeper" agent of Ysanne Isard. Then... it wasn't the time.
However, in fact, the brave pilot simply didn't know how to approach the seasoned scout and express what he felt for her... And what do Corellians do when they can't solve a problem here and now with a good fight and a blaster? That's right — they go with the flow.
Who knew that this flow would once again bring him into the company of this beautiful girl...
Fingers snapped in front of his nose.
— Coruscant calling General Antilles, — Wessiri said with a laugh. — Wedge, over.
— Rogue Leader at your service, — the pilot with the unruly hairstyle jokingly saluted. — But I didn't go anywhere, I was here...
Iella diplomatically stifled a chuckle in her fist.
— Are you sure?
— As sure as my astromech's name is "Mynock" not because it eats energy many times more than the others, — Wedge stated confidently.
— Then what did I just ask? — the scout clarified.
— Um-m-m... — no, pilots are better off in space. There are too many dangers lurking for them on the surface of the planet. — Okay, I admit, I was lost in thought.
— I wondered if I should bet my monthly salary that you were on Coruscant because of the readiness of the autopsy report on General Dodonna's body, — Iella patiently explained.
Wedge's stomach was churning. Inside him, the romantic began to fight with the Corellian.
Because he flew here for other reasons. And he ended up in the morgue only because there were доброходы who told him about the completion of the forensic examination. And, if you look at this situation from a purely technical point of view, then he is here precisely because of Iella...
But stepping on the throat of embarrassment and telling the truth would be... Oh, it's better to fly out against the Death Star again! It's not that scary, in fact. Just think, both times I had to wash my комбинезон...
And again, fingers snapped...
— Not exactly, — he admitted. — Solo returned.
— I heard, — Wessiri nodded. — My command instructed him to be interrogated as a deserter, but Mon Mothma's office vetoed it and seized all materials related to the check.
— Are you sure you have the right to tell me this? — the young general doubted the полномочия of the scout. — It seems like this is internal information...
— Has something changed in recent years, and you've forgotten how to keep your mouth shut? — Iella smiled charmingly... Wedge felt his heart ache and plummet into oblivion... I need to ask if the Empire has any more Death Stars. It's just vital!
— Of course not, — he sniffed. — And you haven't seen a Death Star here? I just flew in for a spark, they say it shot here...
Wessiri chuckled restrainedly. Smiling at Wedge with the very smile that shatters any ice and helps to get rid of the дрожь... It seems that there is someone who can warm his personal Hoth.
— Let's go already, — she became serious. — One eye, agreed?
— Then you don't tell anyone either, — Wedge smiled tensely. — If Fey'lia finds out that I'm one-eyed, he'll живо commission me.
Getting to the right office and getting everything you need wasn't difficult. Wedge was once again amazed at Iella's cold-bloodedness, who without any embarrassment took away the foreign objects extracted from the general's insides. Yes, they are in plastic packaging, but...
"Rogue Leader" surrenders, we repeat: "Rogue Leader" surrenders," a joking announcement flashed through his head in the voice of the flight controller.
Yeah... He certainly wouldn't be able to do that. War is another category of nerves of steel and professional deformation. That's just the latter in this woman was not and is not... There is only strength of spirit and an unbending will, which he has long learned to respect and secretly admire.
Running his eyes over the pages of the conclusion, the young general felt that he would actually need a Death Star...
How he ended up on the cold bench, a row of which stood along the insensible and indifferent walls of the morgue corridor, he never understood. And he didn't understand much in general, except for one simple thought.
He is a murderer. A stupid boy whose бескостный tongue cost the life of one of the best commanders of the Rebel Alliance...
— Wedge, — a pleasant female voice reached through the толща of water from somewhere on the right... He slowly turned his head to the source of the sound. Hammers were beating in his temples, and his heart was about to jump out of his chest. And how much his face burned...
— Wedge, — Wessiri snapped her fingers in front of his face. — Don't disconnect. Wedge, look at me. Antilles, Sithspawn!
It became painful. But somehow even easier...
Rubbing the left half of his face, which was simply burning from the slap, the young general smiled tensely. A habit that passed into the New Republic from the days of the Rebel Alliance. Smiles through tears...
— Thanks, — he croaked, looking at her with eyes that barely distinguished the clarity of the surroundings. — I... I'm fine...
— Are you sure? — Wessiri asked with doubt in her voice, stroking the bruised palm that was bringing him to his senses. — If necessary, I can sober you up from the other side...
— No, — Wedge croaked. — I'm fine... You don't find out every day that by calling a name, you kill a person...
He looked with hatred at the small flat box with many wires that the droid pathologists had removed from the body of the glorious general of the Alliance.
— Antilles, you're talking nonsense, — Wessiri said sharply. — You didn't kill General Dodonna. You didn't know that saying his name would lead to such consequences. His killer is the one who assembled this device and implanted it in the general's skull!
— I... — Wedge looked away. His heart continued to beat like crazy. — I understand, but... If we had found him earlier...
— No "buts," — Iella said in the same commanding voice. — Corran and I, and indeed the entire New Republic intelligence, were searching for the Lusankya prisoners while you were forming Rogue Squadron and destroying Zsinj. We couldn't do anything! Forgive me for being frank, but if Horn couldn't find the prisoners, how can it be your, his, or my fault? There are several hundred prisoners. And they can be on any planet in the galaxy. You know how many known and unknown worlds there are in space! They can be on any of them! Isard scattered the prisoners to different prisons precisely because she knew that we would be looking for them after Horn's escape from the Lusankya and wanted to return them. She has enough brains to take steps so that we never find them.
— And the secret of where she placed them exploded with her on Thyferra. Horn and Selchu torpedoed her shuttle, — Wedge said gloomily. — It seems... We made a big mistake getting rid of her.
Iella snorted indignantly in protest:
— You're going to say that we should have left her alive, — she said hotly. — Isard is the same unprincipled absolute evil as Palpatine. Or were you going to leave him alive on Endor too?
— I was just covering the Millennium Falcon, — his voice trembled treacherously.
— And if you had the chance, would you have fired a torpedo into the reactor? — Iella inquired.
— Yes, — Wedge said hoarsely and without hesitation.
— Even knowing how much pain would appear in the galaxy after his death? — Wessiri clarified.
— Yes, — Wedge's voice grew stronger.
— So what's the difference? — unexpectedly he felt the girl run her hand through his hair. And it had a sobering effect... — Wedge, don't dwell on the past. We're alive. And the other prisoners from the Lusankya are surely alive. We can't allow ourselves to sit down and do nothing just because we're afraid of possible negative consequences. This scum — the Imperial legacy — must be finished off. And then you can take off the command planks and indulge in melancholy. Agreed?
— Yeah, — the young general smiled tensely. — Thanks.
— We'll find those who did this to the prisoners on the Lusankya, — Iella said firmly. — And we'll bring them to justice.
Antilles swallowed the lump in his throat. Somehow this is all wrong... He is being comforted by a woman whose husband was a prisoner on the Lusankya, went through processing at Isard's, who broke the man and turned him into her puppet. Wessiri's husband, after the capture of Coruscant, was sent to kill an Imperial officer who had surrendered to the New Republic. Who was guarded by Iella herself. Who personally shot her husband when he finished off the Imperial. They are all just being manipulated. With diabolical precision and cunning.
So, General Antilles, please tighten your seat belts, get the nonsense out of your head, and start thinking with the part of your body where your unruly bangs grow!
Wedge squeezed the girl's hands slightly.
— Of course, you're right, — he said warmly. — I... Sorry, I came unglued. Too many losses lately.
— Then let's make sure that their number is minimized, — Iella stated decisively, taking a pair of medical gloves from her uniform jacket pocket. With the skill of a professional magician, she put them on and ripped open the polymer bag, taking out a box with wires from it. Too thin — slightly smaller than a deck of cards — but so deadly...
— We have something to start with, — she said, looking at the item and checking the data from the medical report. — This was taken out of General Dodonna's body. Clearly not psychological processing, as during Isard's secret prison — then we didn't find anything extra in the bodies. It was assembled from parts available on the civilian market. With the only difference that there are also custom-made components here. Whoever created it knew his business. You can't construct something like this in a garage behind the house.
— How does it work? — Wedge frowned.
Iella opened the box and showed him its contents. Nothing supernatural: microcircuits, wires, miniature batteries, a tiny motor. And the most remarkable thing in all this is a metal cylinder, studded with clearly man-made holes all over its surface. Wessiri looked into the documents, and then with sleight of hand made the cylinder jump in place with one press of a tiny button trigger mechanism.
— Inside this thing, — she pointed to the cylinder with holes, — are thin-walled and extremely fragile capsules with two substances. The first is a drug, the second is a poison. A rare hemotoxin, it acts like acid, corroding the walls of capillaries. The latter explains the profuse bleeding from the natural orifices of the body. And the drug served as a catalyst to increase blood pressure and accelerate blood circulation, which caused the poison to spread throughout the body in a couple of seconds. Since the implant was connected to the aorta, it was inevitable. The cause of death is extensive cerebral hemorrhage.
Wedge shivered uncomfortably.
— And the activation was caused by the fact that I called his name...
— This — Iella checked the death report again and pointed to another element in the package — is a device that is used for prosthetics. It was connected to the auditory nerve. The electronics recognize the voice, the motor is triggered, and the substances spread through the body.
— Now we have to figure out how they got a sample of my voice for accurate identification, — he said.
— As painful as it is to admit, they could have gotten it from our archives, — Iella said.
General Antilles felt very uncomfortable.
— Aren't they classified as "top secret"? — he clarified.
— As far as I know — yes.
— And so... — Wedge said meaningfully.
— If you want to hint that nothing can be kept secret on Coruscant, you're right, — the girl sighed bitterly. — The Imps get information almost from first-hand sources. And if this thing — she pointed to the implant that killed General Dodonna — was designed back at Isard's, then there's nothing to be surprised about. The general could have been walking around with it even during Horn's captivity on the Lusankya. There are many options.
— On the other hand, they could have gotten a voice sample from radio intercepts, — Wedge tried to comfort the girl. Still, it's kind of depressing to know that you work in intelligence that can't prevent the enemy from getting what they want. Wedge Antilles serves in just such an armed force.
— Someone clearly tried hard, — she said. — As far as I know, no one except the pilots knew about the party you organized? — Wedge nodded affirmatively. — Then we should think about how the one to whom Ysanne Isard gave the order to deal with the prisoners was able to find out about the place and time of the operation. Because doing it in such a short time is just the height of skill.
— They say that Isard had cells of agents on every planet in the Galaxy, — Wedge said for some reason in a whisper.
— I admit that on some, — Iella said. — But not on all.
— Why such conclusions? — Wedge asked.
— Otherwise, the Rebellion would have been strangled in its infancy, — the girl sighed.
— Is there a suggestion of what to do? — Wedge asked.
— To be honest, I was waiting for the initiative from you, General, — playful sparks appeared in her eyes.
— If you need something to bomb or scout — just say the word, — Antilles said. — But thinking ahead two steps is your specialty.
— And Horn's, — Iella said bitterly. — Do you even know where he is?
— Not the slightest idea, — a lump froze in his throat again. — We're covering him as much as we can for now, but soon they'll get to the truth...
— And he'll be hunted as a deserter, — Iella darkened. — Maybe even send me...
— Aren't they putting too much on you? — Wedge asked. — The Akbar case, the Dodonna case... Now also the hunt for a former partner.
— It's the job, — Wessiri smiled sadly. — Moreover, as bitter as it is for me to admit, I will very soon complete the investigation against Admiral Akbar.
— Will the case be dropped? — Wedge asked with hope. Wessiri's gaze eloquently demonstrated a negative answer. — You understand that this is a setup?
— Wedge, I'm doing everything to prove it, — she stated. — The authorities are covering it up as much as they can. But the facts speak for themselves. There have been a lot of questions for Akbar lately. Defeats. Losses of ships. The disappearance of Booster Terrik and his daughter, who are considered tacit allies of the New Republic. Every plan of his is a failure. And then they find money, a painting...
— They could have been planted, — Wedge darkened. — If Akbar in his forced leave was able to figure out who and why is causing this bedlam throughout the galaxy, then they could easily get rid of him...
— Wedge... — Iella looked at him imploringly. — Believe me, I'm not stupid. And I don't want to believe it under any circumstances. I'd rather believe that it was Fey'lia, who regularly sends requests for the progress of the case, who set it all up. But the facts...
— What facts could there be? — Antilles grimaced. — Just guesses. Akbar just happened to be an obstacle, so they decided to get rid of him. I wouldn't even be surprised if this Imperial warlord is as much of a pain in the ass... gunk in the nozzles, as Isard, — he corrected himself. — We're being led around by the nose like little children. If you want to know, my opinion is that the Imperials have decided to carry out something very big, and they're getting rid of our best people. Madine could have found out the nature of the Imperial task force's origin, as could Leia Organa Solo — she could acquire it, and Karrde — sell it. And as a result, they all disappear. Along with the ship. And besides, it turns out that with Madine's death, we lost contact with our illegal scouts... Akbar was developing a strategy to counter it — and now he's a criminal. Horn was going to investigate the disappearance of Booster and Mirax — and now, he's flying to some Jedi that no one has ever heard of before. Lando was developing operations for raids against the Imperials — and he disappears too. Then Solo... You know, until now I thought that Fey'lia has been lucky lately. He's climbing to the top of power in leaps and bounds. And it seems like he even started coming up with some adequate plans — although the Imps didn't buy them. But luck has changed for him too — the entire HoloNet is blaring that the Bothans weren't arming the capital ships, but were sending unrecorded launchers and turbolasers somewhere. He decided to equip a fleet to smear the Syutri Corporate Authority — and there you have it, almost every single caravan with equipment, supplies, and everything necessary is attacked, intercepted, or destroyed. And for the last five days, the Imperials have been doing nothing but demolishing our old and new bases throughout the galaxy. And they choose those that are least protected and the bet was placed on their stealth... All the talk in the armed forces is that some womp rat has burrowed in at the very top. Now the jokes about intelligence that can't find its own tail don't seem like jokes anymore.
— And we certainly don't have time for jokes, — Iella said with a heavy sigh. — Some of my colleagues believe that Coruscant was surrendered to us and we were allowed to spread our armed forces throughout the galaxy only to kill them in the minority. I heard that this morning in the Senate, Fey'lia was smeared with mud, and then the floor was wiped with him for the destroyed bases. How many were attacked? Ten?
— Forty-one, — Antilles added gloomily. — And everything is done so that we can't even properly figure out what's going on. The bases are literally leveled to the ground by an orbital strike or ironed by bombers. There are no survivors or witnesses to what happened... You know, I really want to hope that Han Solo's return from unauthorized absence is a good sign.
— In the current circumstances, we need at least some kind of victory, — Wessiri said. — I understand you were called to Coruscant for this very reason?
— Yes, a meeting has been scheduled personally with Mon Mothma with the participation of Han Solo and Fey'lia, — Wedge admitted. — It seems like big politics are involved here...
— If he has the same attitude towards it as you do, should we prepare for a full alert? — Wessiri smiled.
— Well, it's not that bad, — Wedge said sadly. — What worries me much more is why the meeting was scheduled so urgently. And how, — he pointed to the implant, — to get on the trail of the one who did this.
— You can analyze the details, — Wessiri said. — And then, look for who has the necessary experience and equipment to create exclusive parts, like capsules and cylinders. This way we'll get a pointer to the planet...
Wedge couldn't hide some uncertainty in her words.
— Linuri, — he said quietly.
— What does that mean? — Iella clarified.
— Before his death, General Dodonna said that he had a message for me, — Wedge grimaced. A small piece of information that he withheld from investigators. And named only one word: "Linuri".
— And you ordered your pilots to keep quiet about it when testifying, — the scout stated, flashing her eyes dangerously.
— Oh, no, not at all, — Wedge protested. — It's all our sloppiness and forgetfulness...
— And without jokes? — his friend asked. — Did you want to find out everything in secret yourself?
— Sometimes it seems to me that you would make a wonderful wife, — Antilles blurted out. Then it dawned on him and he bit his tongue. — You catch everything on the fly...
— That's the job, — Wessiri said in an even tone. In her eyes, Wedge saw echoes of the past pain of losing a loved one... — Did you find anything out?
— Linuri is a planet in the Mid Rim. Suitable for the life of most intelligent forms. There is no information in the archives that the Empire ever used it in any way...
— You know that's not proof yet, — Iella informed. — Until the very last moment, we didn't know that Lusankya was not just a secret prison, but also an Executor-class Star Dreadnought.
— The longer we fight the Empire, the more sophisticated they become, — Wedge sighed. — You know, I'm starting to get the impression that we're fighting not one, but several Imperials at the same time.
— Is that so? — Wessiri was surprised. — And where do such conclusions come from?
— Well... — Wedge smiled. — Working with my head is certainly not my strongest trait, however... Somehow everything is happening suspiciously. First, information appears about a surviving grand admiral. Then sophisticated attacks occur. Then the Hoth yards, where the Imperials had already taken a beating, are literally torn to pieces. And again, attacks on our bases. And in parallel with this — an ingenious trap for Booster and his family. Luring Leia into a trap. Now this demonstrative murder of Dodonna. The hunt for traitors. The risen head of capers and pirates. If I didn't know that we had killed Isard, I would definitely say that she's sitting somewhere in the corner, plotting against us, and she has a number of talented and cunning executors. One — works roughly and head-on. The second — calculatingly and precisely, like a surgeon.
— We're inclined to think that the information that General Solo received from smugglers a couple of months ago that the Imperials have a grand admiral is partly true, — Iella said.
— But they were all killed, — Wedge was surprised. — Well, or they fought among themselves. Where did another one crawl out from?
— We received information that the attack on the Hoth yards was carried out by a flagship called the Retribution, — the scout said.
— Prince-Admiral Krennel, — Wedge rolled his eyes. — Sadist and maniac...
— And at the same time, based on his file, he's clearly a supporter of a crude solution to issues, — Iella continued. — Which falls under your theory that one of the executors is slow-witted and presses on head-on.
— Okay, I overdid it, — Antilles realized. — Krennel is certainly still a weirdo, but he's quite tactically talented...
— Wait, I haven't finished, — the scout said. — This is strictly confidential, but... In general, Brentaal IV reported that some of the bases in their area of responsibility were destroyed by an Imperial Star Destroyer called the Imperious.
— So-so-so... — Wedge tensed. — "The Butcher of Atoa"? What's his name there...?
— Captain Erik Shohashi, — Iella suggested. — Alderaanian hunter of Alderaanians. And it just so happened that the base he destroyed on Edan II was entirely staffed by Alderaanians.
— Stupid but strong on one side, — Wedge squinted, — and on the other — cunning and nimble. Shohashi has a gallows crying for him. I heard that he's one of the few Imperial commanders who won't be forgiven his sins and is unlikely to even be taken prisoner.
— There is such an unspoken order, — Wessiri admitted. — My colleagues are digging up the earth with their noses to find him, but so far unsuccessfully. We don't believe that at least he's based in the same place as Krennel — he "lights up" too far away from the territory of the Empire. And for some reason, he uses an active transponder. As if he wants us to know who is behind all this...
— My head is about to explode now, — Wedge admitted. — Why do the Imps even activate their transponders? They stopped doing it as early as five years ago, when they decided that it would supposedly help them hide the greatly thinned numbers of their fleet.
— One way or another, we know for sure that Krennel and some of the ships in his fleet visited the Hoth yards — this is confirmed information. And Shohashi is working in the eastern part of the galaxy — and he's not hiding his transponder either. Unlike those who, for example, attack bases in the west and south of the galaxy. It turns out some kind of surrealism that confuses everyone...
— Have you heard about Itor? — Wedge clarified.
— Where the Imperial Destroyer "II" first dealt with two Mon Calamari cruisers, and then launched them like stones from a slingshot and smashed an defensive station, the debris of which burned half of the largest continent? — Iella clarified. Wedge, grimacing, nodded. — They say that the Ithorians are furious and sent a delegation to the New Republic yesterday, which arrived to them to assess the damage...
— And they also kicked out our escort squadron, — Wedge sighed. — There is reason to believe that they intend to withdraw from the New Republic in order to stop being Imperial targets.
— I'm far from military affairs, but won't this step cause the Imps to appear in orbit of Itor from the main entrance, and the locals won't even have anything to stop them with?
— I really hope that's the way it will be, — Wedge admitted. — The Ithorians are sure that if it weren't for the presence of New Republic ships in orbit, the Imps wouldn't have destroyed their forests.
— And would just buy some grain, like on Agamar? — Wessiri smirked. — Well, yes, it's hard to believe, of course.
— If everything that's happening is someone's strategy, then it's so insane that I can't understand it, — Antilles lamented. — I would understand even if Isard was behind it, but we killed the разноглазую near Thyferra. And as a military commander, she's so-so. Krennel is good — there's nothing to say, but he's a tactician, not a strategist. He wouldn't be able to play the cards on both our side and the other. He would just press on head-on, and he doesn't have enough ships... Frankly, I've voiced all this... You know, now I'm starting to believe that we somewhere didn't finish off one grand admiral. There are just too many Imperial Star Destroyers involved in the attacks — Krennel doesn't have that many, and the other Imperials only need him as a source of TIE fighters.
— We didn't finish off one grand admiral... — Iella repeated, looking away. — You know... You're not that far from the truth...
— What? — Wedge gasped for air. — What does that mean?
— Octavian Grant. — Wessiri said almost in a whisper. — Heard that name?
— One of the Imperial grand admirals, — Wedge nodded cautiously. — Tried to fight against us, then fled to the Five Star Commonwealth, something didn't work out for him with Grand Moff Kaine, he tried to conduct one of the campaigns independently, and then he was killed a few years ago.
— Not quite, — Iella licked her lips. — This is another one of my cases... In general, remember how we thoroughly cleaned up the Imperial warehouses and bases after the capture of Coruscant?
— Of course I remember, — Wedge nodded. — We took a most active part in this.
— Their coordinates were handed over to us by Grant, — Wessiri said with her lips.
— You're kidding, — Antilles whistled. — Is he playing for us, or what?
— Until recently, — Wessiri nodded her head. — He was provided with asylum and comfortable living on one remote planet. And as soon as rumors spread that someone from the surviving grand admirals had become the head of the Imperial task force... Grant disappeared. His residence — was burned, the surveillance and security group — were killed. Just an hour ago, confirmations of the identification of the bodies came — Grant is not among them.
Wedge swore through his teeth.
— We warmed a rancor on our chest! — he said. — We allowed a military criminal to live comfortably. Yes, with the same success, we could have invited Pitta, Batch, Sin, and the rest to a barbecue. Choose anyone — they all have such a heap of corpses behind their backs that there's no particular difference. The only one of them who had a conscience was Zaarin, who raised an rebellion six months before Yavin. But even then, he wasn't even going to cooperate with us! And Grant... Yes, his hands are not up to his elbows, but up to his nostrils in blood!
— Wedge, cool down, — Iella advised. — I completely agree with you. Unfortunately, in the hierarchy of intelligence, I don't represent such a big figure as you are now in the Armed Forces.
— Ah, — Wedge waved his hand. — One of a couple of hundred, or maybe thousands of generals and admirals. I don't even know the names of my nearest neighbors from the place of my deployment.
— But you didn't know anything about Grant either, did you? — Iella clarified. Wedge nodded. — I told you what is classified as top secret. If someone finds out...
— I'm as silent as a Mon Calamari underwater, — Antilles promised.
— You know that they are amphibians and communicate in their environment as well, right? — the scout clarified.
— In general, I won't tell anyone, — Wedge blushed. — But what you said... Iella, I'm not the smartest guy among the others, but even I understand that such scum as a grand admiral is not an asset that you can keep behind your back with a clear conscience. I'm more than sure that he specifically surrendered to us, "leaked" what he didn't mind, and maybe even — his enemies, after which he sat in our backyard with a clear conscience, watched, analyzed in test conditions, and when it became known that his conspiracy was not the most reliable, he gave deru and covered his tracks. Here you have a spider that acts from the shadows, directing Krennel and Shohashi, and maybe even someone else. I'm sure that as a grand admiral, he knew Isard well, and therefore may be involved in Dodonna's murder. So to speak, he sent us a farewell gift...
— This is exactly the theory that is now considered the main one, — Iella said. — At least — at the very top. My leadership is now at a loss. No one knows where to expect a new blow from. If this continues, other worlds and sectors will follow Itor — especially if it turns out that leaving the New Republic is a way to avoid an Imperial attack.
— Great, — Antilles threw up his hands. — Just wonderful. I've been fighting for this state for... — He paused to think. — Many years, — the Corellian gave a vague answer. — And while there were more military than politicians in power, we were doing relatively well. And what now? They put a Bothan in charge of the army, who doesn't understand sith about it. But we're starting to accuse proven admirals of treason. Doesn't it seem to you that someone is conducting a purge of the unwanted in order to remain at the top himself?
— Well, you said you weren't the smartest, — Iella smiled tensely. — Wedge, believe me, I'm trying...
— I don't doubt you, — Antilles sighed sadly. — Just... How are we going to win at all when they're hitting both our noses and the back of our heads? Who is the enemy now, and who is a real friend?
— At least you can't doubt my friendship, — Wessiri said firmly. — I have my own scores to settle with the Empire. And it won't work to agree with me.
— As with me, — Antilles only now noticed how he was clenching his fingers into fists. — I urgently need to bomb a couple of Imperial bases.
— For example, on Linuri? — Iella inquired.
— If she's there, — Wedge darkened. — You know... I get the feeling that Dodonna's death was done so boldly, for show, as if someone wanted us to come for his soul. After all, it's not for nothing that they were looking for me, right?
Iella Wessiri squinted.
— They say that calling the angry Rogue Squadron to your territory is for big bombing осадки...
— Yeah, — Wedge shook his head. — Unless you're an idiot, or you don't have a big club with you, which you intend to cut us to pieces with.
— I can argue about idiots, — Iella stated. — They died first at the Empire. Now the most insidious and combat-ready remain. It is possible that among them there is someone who has personal scores with you. And he could just become the basis for everything that is happening. Is there a suggestion who of them you could have annoyed so much that they lured you into a trap at the cost of General Dodonna's life?
— You understand that this question has reduced the list of possible contenders for hunting our heads so insignificantly that it is pointless even trying to analyze it? — Wedge smiled.
— And yet, we must try, — Iella said, rising from the bench and taking the conclusion and the bag with material evidence in one hand. — Do you have time before the meeting?
— Of course, — Wedge agreed.
— Then, maybe we'll find a quiet place and drink cafa, think about who of your enemies can be so evil as to lure you into a trap at the cost of General Dodonna's life? — Wessiri clarified, shamelessly grabbing the young general by the arm. Wedge felt his breath catch. And his ears started to turn red... Why is it so hot in this morgue?!
— I bet my astromech that it's Krennel, — he said gloomily. — He has very big scores with us...
— I'm sure you'll tell me everything, right? — Wessiri inquired. — And we'll come up with some very cunning plan on how to find the bastard and bring him to justice.
— You should have said right away that you need to interrogate me, — Antilles sighed sadly.
— My dear Wedge Antilles, — Iella said cheerfully, — if I needed it, I wouldn't be sitting with you for two hours in a freezing morgue in a summer uniform and trying not to knock my teeth from the cold.
What cold is there. One Corellian's face will soon be burning. And his heart beats so, beats so...
Maybe then... — he said uncertainly, looking the girl in the eyes. — We'll go somewhere...?
— Is this a date, General Antilles? — Iella's eyebrows flew up on her face, and a puzzled expression appeared.
— Well... yes... — Wedge became embarrassed. — Just... You helped me so often that... A small sign of attention... From one pilot... to his good combat friend...
— Wedge, — Iella sighed with a smile. — Do you even understand that you're inviting me on a date while standing in the corridor of the morgue?
Antilles bit his lip childishly. Yeah... What a cavalier, that is. While all the boys his age were running around on dates, he was blowing up Death Stars and wasn't very successful in personal growth and developing tact along with gallantry.
— Well... — he hastily looked away. — Here, at least no one will blab their tongue. And the Death Star is unlikely to barge in to interfere with my courage...
Iella's merry laughter seemed to offend even the droid pathologists.
And for the rest of the day, Wedge flew as if on wings, feeling his cheek burning from just one kiss. If you think about it... If another Death Star jumped into Coruscant's orbit, one young general could blow it up that day even if he flew in a frontal attack on an atmospheric speeder.
***
"Lake of Squids" once again filled my cabin with its lullabying and at the same time disturbing sounds. Another section was ending with a традиционным for the Mon Calamari fader — attenuation, after which another unhurried introduction will begin. A very remarkable characteristic of the race's thinking, translated into a musical work.
Mon Calamari think in peculiar "jumps". It's very difficult to "stir them up", they are slow, clumsy, inert. But when another episode reaches its climax, their thought is quick, accurate, and sharp, as is every climax of "Lake of Squids".
Listening to the beautiful melodies, I analyzed the "gift" from Agent Inek.
Luke Skywalker's X-wing and the memory "image" of his astromech R2. I didn't have accurate information, whether it was the starfighter on which Skywalker destroyed the first Death Star, and then fought on Hoth and to this day. Or it's a completely different ship, since the previous ones were damaged or destroyed. Unfortunately, I didn't remember that.
However, it's not that important — the codebreakers will take everything out of this ship that it has. One thing I remember for sure — Skywalker denied such a mandatory procedure in the world of Star Wars as erasing the memory of droids. It was performed solely to prevent the accumulation of experience and the development of self-awareness by artificial mechanisms in view of the fear of local inhabitants of a droid rebellion. It so happened that such a moment in the history of this galaxy was present and had such a strong negative impact on everyone living in it that security requirements were observed after thousands of years... It's a pity that the population of the galaxy doesn't have such a lasting memory in relation to the followers of the Dark Side of the Force.
However, the starfighter is not the main thing.
The memory "image" of the astromech — this is already a much more interesting moment.
R2-D2 is generally a separate character in the galaxy, deserving of attention as a full-fledged personality. However, he already is one, since his owners don't erase his memory. And therefore, the droid can shed light on a huge number of historical events...
He served on Naboo and saved Queen Padmé Amidala during the Trade Federation blockade thirty-two years before the Battle of Yavin IV. He helped Anakin Skywalker in his races on Tatooine and in the destruction of the droid control ship over Naboo. He was present at the beginning of the Clone Wars and was near Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker all the months of the war with the Separatists (with the exception of several events). He served the House of Organa on Alderaan, окахался on Tatooine and transported the blueprints of the first Death Star inside himself. He helped Luke Skywalker in the destruction of the last one. He was with him on Dagobah and contributed to the fall of the Empire on Endor... And how many adventures befell him in the period between the "episodes" of the films and after them?
This droid is indeed a small encyclopedia, storing a large number of secrets.
In fact, it's very curious how things are going in the galaxy. It would seem that I have already set history on a different path, but one way or another, the iconic characters of the universe still — directly or indirectly — meet on my path.
And so it happened that at about the same time, I acquired two keys to the secrets of the Skywalker family's past.
The first — a copy of R2-D2's memory banks. I don't remember exactly the reason why the droid didn't tell Luke about his parents' past. Either this part of his memory core was blocked, or damaged as a result of the numerous troubles he got into. However, one way or another, but in the events known to me, it was the second "key" that was able to unlock (or restore? However, it doesn't matter) these sections of memory and give Leia and Luke Skywalker information about who their mother was...
And it was done by the then already not young "slicer" named Ghent. The very one that Mara recruited to carry out the tasks set before her. It's interesting how the cards are dealt... After all, I didn't order the seizure of Skywalker's X-wing and the copying of his astromech's memory, which has now turned into a beacon for detecting the base and fleet of Garm Bel Iblis.
But by chance (or the Force?) I ended up with both of them at my disposal.
No, this didn't have much influence on my plans. Not at all. But it allowed me to make "pleasant additions" to them.
For example, using old data from R2-D2's memory gave me "operational space". I could send agents in the footsteps of long-thundered battles to discover damaged or abandoned ships, abandoned bases and outposts — everything is useful in my position, without exaggeration.
And also I could... strange as it may sound... do a good deed. Namely: build bridges with the Skywalker family. Specifically, to transfer to their disposal data about their mother. I'm sure that it's only worth providing a certain degree of evidence in order to direct both of them to Naboo. Padmé Amidala clearly has relatives and descendants. Therefore, conducting a genetic analysis to determine the degree of kinship is possible. If this procedure is available in my past life, then even more so in the universe of a galaxy far, far away.
I didn't suffer from great altruism in my past life, and I don't suffer now. However, the Skywalkers — both Luke and Leia — are people who are distinguished by the absence of vindictiveness, the presence of great probity, and the ability to be grateful. The Jedi Knight will one day become a grand master and raise a huge number of followers. The princess will lead the New Republic. One way or another, if not tomorrow, but in years, the other, they will both gain a significant position in the galaxy. In fact, the princess has it even now, and Luke is not толчется among the stragglers either. I planned to use Leia to declare myself as an Imperial with whom it is possible and necessary to conduct business and negotiations. In fact, the play with her capture is being played out and the observatory on Tangrene is being completed. For the same reason, she is cared for as an expensive guest — fighting women and children is the last thing. And even more so — to cause them targeted harm. The Skywalker family plays a big role in this galaxy... And therefore, Leia's children must be born. They will replace their parents. And even if one of the twins, who now lives inside the princess, in the future, in the events known to me, will become known as Darth Caedus, will fall on the Dark Side and flood the galaxy with blood, it is not necessary that with my appearance everything will go according to the old scenario. An avalanche that sweeps away everything in its path is formed when only a small amount of snow falls, and only then, during the descent, does it gain a huge mass. Therefore, it is not a fact that my actions will somehow change the galaxy for the better or worse. Time will tell.
But even without knowing how the events will unfold, I have no intention of depriving the princess of her children. Even if what I already know happens with Jacen Solo. There is a common opinion that if you go back in time and kill Hitler as a baby, you can avoid World War II. A utopian worldview. After all, you never know what will happen to history if you radically change it. In fact, for this very reason, I don't strive to capture the sectors of the New Republic — there is simply no need to spend forces on this.
Hitler became who we know him from history textbooks not because he was born with ideas of domination and superiority of the Aryan nation. Jacen Solo was not born a Sith, like Anakin Skywalker. Even the future Emperor did not come into this world with the intention of destroying all the Jedi. Their actions and decisions were influenced by the circumstances and the intelligent beings around them. And I doubt that one fleet analyst in a foreigner's body can change the galaxy so much that destructive elements will leave it and everyone will wish each other only good and peace.
No matter how I brainstorm the idea of uniting the galaxy and preparing it to meet the Yuuzhan Vong, this is an unfulfilled utopia. The galaxy is a complex organism and it is not in my power to change the course of events within it. I can only do something to the best of my abilities and only where I can really achieve the necessary result.
And the X-wing, old memories from the droid's memory are what is needed to build bridges with the Skywalker couple. Whether it works or not, whether they can influence the government of the New Republic and stop the massacre between the Imperials and the former rebels — I don't know. But I see a chance and I use it.
"Do or do not". It seems that's what Master Yoda said, enlightening his adult student with Jedi wisdom. And it happened on the planet Dagobah... It's interesting that its coordinates are absent in galactic atlases — even in data from Obroa-skai. But there is one of the places of concentration of the Force, which the Followers of Mark Ragnos use in order to resurrect their dead lord... A quiet planet, which would not hurt to keep an eye on. After all, at least in the past, interesting events took place there. And it never hurts to be safe...
Decided. It will be necessary, as soon as the coordinates of the planet appear, to send several observation probes from the "Morrt" project there. Whoever flies into this system, I will know about it. And so, God forbid, another powerful dark Jedi from the planet Bpfassh appears or K'Baot decides to go there, and Master Yoda is already dead and will not be able to... God forbid there is something "interesting" on the swampy planet.
I stopped short.
Opening my eyes wide, I looked around. The code cylinder with the text of the Caamas Document slipped out of my pocket. I twisted the device between my fingers, running the sequence of events through my memory.
It all started with the fact that Luke Skywalker flew to Dagobah at the beginning of Thrawn's campaign in the events known to me and visited the cave, where he was enlightened by a vision of the Force...
No. Resolutely no. This chain of events began much earlier.
When was Yoda on Dagobah in exile after the Great Jedi Purge?
No, it doesn't seem so.
During the Clone Wars?
No, even earlier. Or not? I don't remember exactly, but it doesn't really matter.
The battle between Yoda and the fallen Jedi from the planet Bpfassh became the starting point for the development of a chain of events that saved the New Republic from disintegration ten years after the death of Grand Admiral Thrawn in the events known to me.
Only one small detail allowed the Republicans to follow the trail of breadcrumbs and get an unchanged copy of the Caamas Document, which made it possible to calculate and bring to justice specific Bothans guilty of deactivating the deflector shields of the Caamasi homeland. And this put an end to the protracted internal confrontation...
And it was done by Talon Karrde. He obtained an unchanged copy. Similar to the one that is currently available in only a few places — with me, at the disposal of Ubiktorat, and in the Imperial Library, which ten years after the current events will be located on Bastion — the capital of the Empire's Remnant. But there is also a fourth copy of the document — in the "Hand of Thrawn" fortress on the planet Nirauan, where I plan to find the way by coaxing Delak Krennel to tell me one way or another how exactly he came under Thrawn's command in the past, and how he returned from the Unknown Regions. Without Thrawn's memory, I can't get there, but there are at least two hundred and fifty sectors of pro-Imperial planets subordinated to the command on Nirauan. And those, in turn, are subordinate to Thrawn. Mara Jade and Luke Skywalker found their way there in their time, but... Only when Thrawn's subordinates from Nirauan began to look for them themselves.
Do I want to arrive on Nirauan and get all their power under my command? Yes, it would be very good — it would allow me to destroy Palpatine in one go and occupy almost half of the galaxy — subjugating the Imperial Remnants. But alas — I'm frankly afraid to look for the way to Nirauan, go there and try to subjugate those who were near Thrawn all the years of his "exile". Because I will definitely fail... I will be exposed. Unless by that time I can become Thrawn not only in appearance, but also internally. However, this is all lyrics.
I need Nirauan as the most emergency rescue plan. And if they are independently looking for Thrawn in ten years — then I have at least time to prepare for their appearance. If not... So much the better. Probably.
However, I got distracted again. Sometimes the ability to switch to some unimportant details at the moment and scroll them in my head to the smallest details — is tiring.
I mentally returned to my logical chain regarding the Caamas Document. So, there are four copies. But none of them in the events known to me ever served as a way to defuse the tension in the New Republic.
Talon Karrde helped, who discovered the fifth copy of the necessary list. In the region of the galaxy to which a small technical device led him... And these adventures began with the fact that a foreigner ten years after the destruction of Mount Tantiss discovered several information chips. Including a damaged copy of the Caamas Document, which is intact and safe with me at the moment. And this information is extremely valuable — it can in one fell swoop collapse the New Republic and dismember it into sectors warring with each other...
I felt a slight agitation.
I had something to worry about. After all, after Thrawn's defeat in the events known to me, ten years later, on the ruins of Mount Tantiss, an antiquities hunter found not only a damaged information chip with the caamassian document.
I glanced at the racks with information crystals and chips that occupied a good half of my apartments. They were all extracted from the bowels of Mount Tantiss. They avoided being cleaned up by a computer virus in the past, and therefore, a very interesting information is concentrated inside them. One of the infochips — the reason for the Caamasi genocide by order of Palpatine.
And on another...
I looked again at the impressive collection of information of the Emperor himself.
There are many secrets and mysteries here — both of the Sith himself and of his closest associates. I used some of these crystals to provide an ambush on Linuri.
But there is also something else found on the ruins of Mount Tantiss. Something that cannot be made public under either the Imperials or the Republicans. And if I get the document I'm interested in in these endless crystals and chips, the indication, the coordinates, then Krennel will no longer be needed.