Nine years, ten months, and fifteen days after the Battle of Yavin…
Or forty-four years, ten months, and fifteen days after the Great Resynchronization.
(Five months and thirty-five days since the arrival).
The commander of the Stormhawk sat in his quarters, sipping a vitaminized drink from a half-liter ceramic mug.
In truth, when he had purchased the entire dinnerware set some ten years ago at a Coruscant market, this mug was labeled a "soup bowl."
Its intended purpose, according to dining etiquette, was for serving first courses such as soups, porridges, and the like.
But over the years spent in service, Morgoth had deemed it more practical to use it directly for drinking—campaigns demanded copious amounts of hydration.
Some of his colleagues from the days of the Imperial Navy relied on stimulants, others turned to alcohol.
Morgoth, shaped by his simple upbringing on Nez Peron, preferred caf or plain vitaminized beverages.
The attractive woman seated across from him, clad in a gray Imperial uniform with captain's insignia on her chest, shared the same approach to staying alert.
Her name was Tanda Pryl, and despite her striking, unmarred beauty, she was already approaching her fourth decade.
Like Morgoth, she was the commander of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer. Her former "Imp-I," the Thunderflare, now crewed in part by Dominion personnel, was currently traversing hyperspace across the galaxy toward their cherished destination.
From the Tapani sector, through territory controlled by the New Republic, directly to the Dominion.
The holds of both ships were filled to the brim with cargoes of weaponry and encryption equipment, which Tanda and her ship had been guarding at the Ubiqtorate base in the Tapani sector.
The last stronghold controlled by that ruthless organization had surrendered three days ago when Grand Admiral Thrawn struck the Ubiqtorate.
Without a single shot fired, without attempts at sabotage, the Thunderflare and its crew laid down their arms.
This, despite the fact that in combat, Tanda's ship could have not only carved the Stormhawk, both supporting Acclamators, and the Venator with its ion cannon into small, unsightly pieces but also feasted on the escort corvettes for dessert.
Yet the commander of the Thunderflare chose otherwise—she surrendered.
Securing for her subordinates and herself service to the Dominion.
On the standard terms for officers of the state.
And now, they were returning home.
— You seem calm, — Morgoth said, taking a small sip.
— You gave your word that everything would go smoothly, — the woman reminded him, setting her steaming mug of aromatic caf on the table and habitually smoothing her tight braid of blonde hair.
The blonde with cobalt-blue eyes appeared indifferent, but Morgoth knew his old acquaintance well enough to recognize a simple truth: she was nervous.
Captain Tanda Pryl.
— I appreciate that you trust my word, — he noted. — Even though you received all the necessary assurances and guarantees of safety, as well as no pursuit from the Grand Admiral via holocomm.
— I only know Thrawn from the operation against the warlord in the Poln system, — Tanda said. — The rest is just rumors and gossip. But I've known you since our first year at the Academy. And I trust your judgment.
— That sounds like a compliment, — Morgoth remarked.
— I also know you wouldn't join someone if you thought they were acting against your principles, — his guest continued.
— As diplomatic as ever, — the commander of the Stormhawk smirked with just his lips.
— Thank you, — she replied with a similarly perfunctory smile, sipping her caf. — Has Akal Zed's death been confirmed?
— Unfortunately, yes, — Astorias replied. — The watch officer shot him when Zed ordered an attack on the Ubiqtorate facility to prevent it from falling into our hands.
— Akal unraveled, — Tanda shook her head. — Clearly, service to the Ubiqtorate frayed his nerves.
— In the past, you despised him, — Morgoth reminded her.
— During our service in the Elrood sector, I would've gladly slit his throat or thrown the stubborn fool out an airlock—that's how much he irritated me, — the woman confirmed. — But after we were transferred to Darth Vader's personal squadron and up until the fall of the Imperial regime in the Elrood sector, we sort of rubbed off on each other. We weren't exactly close friends, but I no longer wanted to kill him.
— I heard a lot of good things about him, — Morgoth said. — Professionally speaking.
— I'm sorry he's gone, — Tanda admitted. — He would've been a good commander in the Dominion's service.
— If he had agreed to such an offer, — the Stormhawk's commander countered. — Judging by how he spent his final moments, it's fair to assume Akal made a different choice than you did.
— Well, — the woman smoothed her braid, — everyone shapes their own future. So, am I correct in understanding we're already in Dominion-controlled territory?
— That's correct, — Morgoth confirmed.
— And what's next? — his companion inquired.
— The ship will be taken to the shipyards for inspection and repairs, and the crew will undergo vetting procedures, — Astorias explained plainly.
— I'm sure it's not worth asking how long all the bureaucratic processes will take, — Tanda said. — Bureaucrats, even in the navy, are still bureaucrats…
— Given your crew's service record and the ship's condition, I'm confident you'll be integrated into the regular fleet within a week or two.
A smile played on the woman's lips.
— You were never good at lying, Morgoth, — she declared. — The Thunderflare is in excellent condition, so there's no reason to send it to the shipyards.
— And yet, that's exactly where the ship is headed. There's no guarantee there isn't something on the destroyer that could harm the Dominion.
— I think it's more about your engineers being eager to dig into the Thunderflare's weapons systems and study how Imperial engineers managed to boost its salvo power during the upgrade from an Imp-I to an Imp-II, — the woman said confidently.
Morgoth shrugged.
Truth be told, that was the least of his concerns.
Yes, like half the Imperial Starfleet, he knew that the Thunderflare, after joining Darth Vader's Death Squadron, like many Imperial-class Star Destroyers, had been upgraded from an Imp-I to an Imp-II.
But the Thunderflare stood out in this process.
Despite having standard Imp-II armaments, this destroyer inflicted far greater damage. It was as if the engineers had somehow altered the weapons system.
How it was done was an intriguing mystery, as understanding this secret could allow Dominion starships to surpass their opponents.
Admittedly, when Morgoth first heard of the Thunderflare's fate, he thought Tanda's influential family might have pulled strings to assist her.
Tanda came from a privileged family that taught her the subtle art of manipulating and influencing others. Thanks to her father's influence, she was admitted to the Naval Academy, though her own abilities allowed her to rise quickly through the ranks.
It wasn't uncommon in the galaxy to believe that women and non-humans had no place in the fleet.
Nor was it true, as some claimed, that the Empire oppressed all non-human species without exception.
Women and non-humans could be admitted to fleet academies—if they had influential patrons or exceptional merits. But in those institutions, beyond everything else, knowledge and tactical prowess were required.
For the average man, simply not flunking out of the Academy was enough to continue serving in the fleet.
For the son of an aristocrat or major industrialist, obtaining an officer's commission was sufficient to secure a ship, thanks to their family's reputation.
Women and non-humans had to prove every day at the Academy that they weren't second-class beings. To survive the culling at the end of each semester, they had to be the best.
Tanda was one such individual.
Her family's connections played no role in advancing her career.
Otherwise, after receiving command of a Star Destroyer, she wouldn't have been sent to the backwater of the Elrood sector on the galaxy's southeastern frontier near the Kathol Rift.
The woman served under Vader admirably, so the fact that the notoriously intolerant Sith Lord didn't snap her neck or choke her suggests he personally advocated for her ship's upgrade.
Otherwise, the weapons upgrade would have been applied to another ship.
Likely one commanded by a man—in the chauvinistic circles of the Imperial Starfleet, that detail alone was often enough to justify many decisions.
But that was all beside the point.
— Even if I knew, I wouldn't be authorized to disclose classified information, — Morgoth stated. — You understand.
— Oh, I do, — the blonde smoothed her hair again. — Heard about the D'Astan sector?
Morgoth nodded.
— A civil war right on your doorstep, — Tanda continued. — From what I've heard, many D'Astani have left the Dominion to fight for the Baroness…
— I'm sure you're delicately trying to ask if I'd consider joining them, — the man said.
— Look at it this way, — the woman didn't take offense at being interrupted, — you convinced me to switch sides. If it turns out that in a couple of weeks you resign and go fight for your homeland, I'll be left without any familiar faces or friends among the Dominion's command staff. I'd rather not learn your fleet's inner workings through trial and error.
— You're mistaken about the lack of acquaintances, — Astorias said. — At the very least, there's one other ship commander in the regular fleet you'd know.
— And who might that be?
— Gilad Pellaeon.
The woman grimaced, as if she'd been asked to lecture infants on tactics.
— The Chimaera, — she sighed heavily. — The Chimaera, Thrawn's flagship… I hope Pellaeon has a short memory.
— Is there a problem? — Morgoth inquired.
— The Thunderflare was involved in guarding the construction of the second Death Star and fought at Endor, — she reminded him. — And when Pellaeon decided to take command of the fleet's remnants… Let's just say I refused him. In a very straightforward manner.
— I don't see an issue, — Morgoth shrugged. — Your diplomatic refusals are an art form…
— After the battle, I wasn't as diplomatic as usual.
— You told Pellaeon off? — the Stormhawk commander's eyes widened.
— I'd say I merely pointed him in a direction to travel, — Tanda said evasively. — Of course, without outright rudeness, but I doubt he was thrilled to follow my advice or inquire about the coordinates of that particular course…
— And here I thought I knew you well enough, — Morgoth said, finishing the contents of his soup bowl.
— It's been years since we last met, — Tanda chuckled softly. — A lot changes. I think it'd be nice to meet up sometime over a glass of something stronger and swap some war stories.
— Of course, — the man agreed. — You have my comlink frequency. Once you've cleared all the formalities and checks, give me a call. I'll try to carve out a couple of free days. I think we might even end up in the same task force…
Her cobalt-blue eyes sparkled with genuine amusement.
— If that happens, I might just object, — the blonde said with a smirk.
Morgoth paused for a moment, considering her words.
— Don't even try, Tanda, — he advised. — I won't fall for that trap again.
The woman let out a theatrical sigh.
— You're so dull, Astorias, — she remarked. — Here I am, inviting you out, trying this and that…
— You know my rule, Pryl: I don't mix work with personal matters.
— That rule's what… twenty years old?
— Or thereabouts.
— It's long overdue for an update.
Morgoth shook his head.
— Some things don't change with time.
Her cobalt eyes gleamed with mischief.
— That sounded like a challenge, Captain Astorias.
— Check your hearing, Captain Pryl.
Tanda stared at him for a few more seconds before both shared a restrained laugh.
— You almost bought it, — the blonde said.
— Not for a moment, — the man countered. — I've been immune to your jokes since the Academy, Tanda.
— For the sake of propriety and etiquette, you could at least play along with a lady, — the aristocrat said with mock offense.
Morgoth wagged his index finger side to side.
— That approach won't work either, friend. My principles are unshakable: I always see through your jests and jabs.
— Pride is a sin, — Tanda reminded him. — Where's your caf machine? I need a pick-me-up before facing the last Grand Admiral.
A faint tremor in the ship's hull signaled to both that the Stormhawk had reached its destination.
Morgoth activated the tactical holoprojector with a remote.
— And here's Ciutric IV, — he said, pointing to the holographic projection of the Dominion's capital. — You could say, 'Welcome home!'
— Absolutely, — the female officer replied, scanning the ship markers. — "Two dozen destroyers, two dozen destroyers"… Well, well. I lost count of your Imperials around the fortieth. And this isn't even the entire fleet…
— The Dominion's regular fleet is just returning to base, — Morgoth explained. — A quick repair, and we're back to the front.
Tanda's face fell as she recognized the markers in orbit:
— The Chimaera, Inexorable, Relentless, Eviscerator, Adjudicator, Stalker, Tyrant, and now the Stormhawk and Thunderflare have arrived… — she said. — Add the Nemesis, Avenger, Conqueror, Vengeance-Two, a couple of battlecruisers, and a Executor-class super star destroyer, and you've practically got Death Squadron back in full force… That's not to mention you've got the entire Ubiqtorate fleet, plus how many destroyers! And heavy cruisers! Honest reactor—the whole galaxy thinks Thrawn's got ships the size of a thumbnail!
Morgoth looked at his old friend with sudden interest, realizing she had just voiced a valuable observation.
One he hadn't reached himself.
Unlike her, he knew that, in truth, they weren't far off from completing the roster…
Curiously, no one but Pryl had noticed.
Thrawn was indeed reassembling Death Squadron!
The Nemesis would soon be repaired, and they even had their own Executor…
It was unlikely anyone knew the exact composition of the late Sith Lord's personal task force, and the absence of a couple of battlecruisers or Victories wouldn't hurt anyone's feelings.
But there are no such coincidences!
***
General Bel Iblis shook his head.
— We risk falling into another of Thrawn's traps, — he said as Leia and Han finished outlining their thoughts. — Postponing the strike on Lianna to focus on defending Sluis Van is highly risky.
— The strike on Lianna is the trap, — his compatriot stated confidently. — Isn't it obvious that the Dominion's ships appearing in orbit around Ossus wasn't a coincidence?
— Based on what you've told me about Skywalker's actions, Thrawn himself could have been conducting archaeological excavations on that planet, — Bel Iblis noted.
— Then why send just one ship instead of bringing a full task force right away? — Wedge inquired. — And react so quickly?
— That fact concerns me the most, — Bel Iblis admitted. — A Jedi planet, and the Dominion clearly found something there. You assured me, General Antilles, that you scouted the nearby space around Ossus and found no trace of a trap.
— Exactly so.
— Then how did Thrawn arrive so promptly? — the elderly Corellian asked.
— I don't have an answer, — Wedge admitted.
— I have a theory, — Leia said.
— More accurately, we both do, — Solo emphasized his involvement.
— I'm all ears, — in truth, Bel Iblis had his own coherent and logical theory.
But he wasn't in a hurry to voice it prematurely.
— Luke said what's happening on Ossus threatens the future of the Jedi, — Leia said. — Or rather… he phrased it differently, but I felt through the Force that's what he believes.
— Alright, what does that give us? — Bel Iblis asked.
— Ossus is a Jedi planet, — Leia reminded him. — Thrawn has previously collaborated with the fallen Jedi Joruus C'baoth.
— A Jedi clone, — Solo clarified.
— And that allowed him to operate large forces with incredible coordination, — Bel Iblis nodded. — You're suggesting Thrawn has more fallen Jedi?
— Someone attacked Luke on Polis Massa, didn't they? — Solo asked rhetorically. — Maybe they were Palpatine's agents. Maybe Thrawn's subordinates. Or perhaps the former, now working with the Grand Admiral on his current mission.
— I'm not sure I follow your point, — the Corellian admitted.
— Jedi can sense danger and foresee the future, — Antilles blurted out, catching on. — Horn, at least, has saved us more than once with his Jedi instincts.
— That's what I thought, — Leia said. — Thrawn is seeking ancient Jedi secrets to train his own fallen Jedi, or perhaps a new clone of C'baoth, to replace the one killed. This ties into Luke's stance—if fallen Jedi gain access to ancient techniques, Luke will never defeat them or rebuild the Order as it once was. Without the right knowledge, that could take years, if not longer.
— You know, — Antilles said, — all this talk of fallen Jedi and their philosophy… it really messes with your moral compass. So, I agree with your theory—if Thrawn has people using Jedi knowledge for their own ends, we need to address this problem. The sooner, the better.
— What are you getting at? — Solo asked.
— That mad clone brainwashed Corran, — Wedge reminded him. — Thrawn lured him there to throw him off Mirax and Booster's trail. Corran was desperate to find them and pushed forward recklessly. Now, not only has he stopped looking, but he brushes off the topic with, "I sense they're alive and well. Their rescue can wait until we deal with Thrawn."
The Solo couple, present as holograms, exchanged glances.
— That doesn't sound good, — Leia said. — Jedi don't give in to emotions, but to act like that…
— That guy needs a serious reality check, — Han declared.
— You think I risked breaking orders and flew to rescue Skywalker from Ossus just because I was tired of hiding in the Auril sector? — Wedge blew his overgrown bangs out of his face. — Unlike Corran, I'm not giving up and am still trying to find the people close to me.
— Any results? — Leia asked.
— Nothing, — Antilles admitted. — It's like Thrawn locked them in a safe and keeps them under constant watch. There's no trace of where they might be.
A heavy silence settled among the group.
— Hm, — the elderly general stroked his chin, realizing it was time to steer the conversation back to the original topic. — So, you think the dark Jedi on Ossus foresaw General Antilles' fleet attack and summoned Thrawn?
— Yes, — Councilor Organa-Solo replied firmly.
— Luke didn't just vanish on his own, — her husband added.
— My subordinate stopped communicating as well, — Bel Iblis reminded them, frowning.
— She might already be dead, — Antilles suggested.
— As might Skywalker, — the former senator noted.
— I think Thrawn would've tried to take my brother alive, — Leia said with doubt in her voice. — He's a prominent Rebellion hero and a Jedi… Thrawn, as we've seen, doesn't act wastefully. A prisoner of such importance is valuable alive. He could trade him to Palpatine for concessions for himself and his people. That is, if it was Palpatine's agents pursuing my brother on Polis Massa.
— Or trade him for guarantees from either Palpatine or the New Republic, — Han suggested.
— We already know what he wants, — Bel Iblis grimaced. — Honestly, I had a theory that Thrawn is using Warlord Zsinj's developments. General Antilles, remember when you encountered those parasitic droids?
The young general standing beside the commander-in-chief flinched.
— Those little pests caused the destruction of more than one of our bases, — he reminded.
— It's possible Thrawn revived the project, — Bel Iblis speculated. — But it's a mere theory, based on the late Admiral Ackbar's assumptions and the surviving crew of Home One. Without samples of the droids, we can't say anything concrete about where or how Thrawn might strike next.
— That's not entirely true, — Councilor Organa-Solo said cryptically. — During our last meeting with Thrawn, he offered one of us a deal—to reveal the location of the Lusankya in exchange for certain concessions.
— You didn't mention this before, Councilor, — Bel Iblis noted. — Though I don't judge you. In that situation, it would've only complicated things. Hm… We're no longer hiding the Lusankya's location—practically every being in the galaxy knows it's being repaired at Rendili. If Thrawn had the forces, he'd have attacked and seized the super star destroyer. But it seems he either fears heavy losses or isn't as strong as he tries to appear.
— So why not outsmart the puppeteer? — Han Solo asked.
— How? — Bel Iblis inquired. — Luring him to Rendili is a dead end. The defenses there are too strong for him to believe he could defeat the fleet and stations.
— We don't need Rendili, — Wedge said suddenly. — Is the Lusankya combat-ready?
— Relatively, — Bel Iblis grimaced, sensing where the conversation was headed. — Several sublight engines still need installation. Are you suggesting we move her somewhere under a plausible pretext and leak to Thrawn that we're ready to trade the ship for Skywalker?
— Given how obsessed Thrawn is with controlling Imperial ships, he might take the bait, — Antilles said.
— The problem is, the Lusankya's crew isn't fully formed, — Bel Iblis stated. — I have a meeting with the ship's future commander today. The Lusankya can fight, but not as its creators intended. Its low maneuverability makes it a tempting target.
— Do we really need her to maneuver? — General Solo clarified. — We can always find a fleet to cover her—let them bear the brunt of facing Thrawn's forces, and he'll definitely come with an armada. All we need from the Lusankya are her guns.
— You're forgetting one thing, — Bel Iblis said. — According to survivors from Home One, Thrawn already has one super star destroyer of that class. Plus a fast dreadnought—the Crimson Dawn. At the Battle of Soullex, Thrawn didn't hesitate to deploy the former, despite its damage. It's been some time since then—he could've patched that ship up, and we'd need to fight with truly massive forces. By conservative estimates, the Grand Admiral commands up to five hundred starships of various types and classes. Not to mention, we still haven't found the source of his intelligence within the Imperial Palace. This whole plan could end in another disaster.
— Are you suggesting we wait until Thrawn fully crews his ships, repairs his own Executor, and let's not forget he also has a Torpedo Sphere? — Wedge asked. — Once he's at full strength, I doubt we'll lure him into a trap with minimal forces.
Bel Iblis fell silent for a moment.
— We'd need serious preparatory work, — he said. — And coordination with Mon Mothma. I'll need several hundred star cruisers to ensure superiority over Thrawn's forces—at least based on the ships we've tracked over the past five months.
— Isn't waging war your sole prerogative? — Han Solo clarified.
— That's not the issue, — the elderly Corellian said, glancing at Leia. — I think your wife understands what I mean.
— Better than anyone, — the Alderaanian smiled sadly. — Right now, the Senate and most councilors are in disarray and panic. The New Republic is facing a serious crisis. The Bothans have already shown they're ready to vie for power, but now they, and others, have stepped back. They're essentially letting Mon Mothma handle all the problems alone.
— And as a result, she bears the blame for our defeats, — Bel Iblis continued. — Which we have far more of than victories.
— Well, we dealt with the Ubiqtorate, — Wedge noted.
— Not us, — the Corellian countered. — Kaine's claims of the organization's total destruction and the disarray of Imperial intelligence don't mean it's actually happening. This could be another disinformation campaign to set us up for a bigger blow. That's why the Provisional Government is hesitant to take on such responsibility. We already tried claiming victory over Thrawn—and he made a mockery of the New Republic in response. Mon Mothma doesn't want to risk it again—the Lusankya operation must be planned and executed perfectly. Otherwise, it'll spell the end of the current Provisional Government.
— Once the crisis caused by Thrawn is over, the Bothans will gleefully use our losses to gain votes in the New Republic presidential election, — Leia explained. — Right now, while things are bad, it's convenient to pin everything on Mothma. The Bothans already burned themselves trying to seize power—now they and others will wait for the storm to pass.
— If it passes, — Antilles added.
— Otherwise, we have no choice, — Bel Iblis said firmly. — The Alliance and the New Republic have sacrificed too much to achieve what we have now. We can't let it all fall apart.
— Not to mention, Palpatine's out there somewhere, preparing an attack, — Han Solo said.
— I'm taking measures to protect the Core Worlds, — his compatriot declared. — Palpatine, Thrawn, or any other Imperial daring to attack us again will bitterly regret it.
— So we just wait? — Han Solo asked with a sour expression.
— Not at all, — Bel Iblis said. — Your plan with the Lusankya is quite promising. I think we should refine it with multiple layers of safeguards and present it to Mon Mothma. If we approach the operation with healthy paranoia, it could work. Whether we kill Thrawn or deal a significant blow to his forces, it'll show the galaxy we haven't surrendered.
— In that case, what about Lianna and Sluis Van? — General Antilles asked. — We can't handle three full-scale campaigns.
— Not with our available forces, — Bel Iblis agreed. — If we defeat Thrawn in the Lusankya operation, the next target should be Lianna. In that case, Sluis Van won't be threatened at all.
— But that doesn't address the need to continue upgrading and repairing ships, — Solo said grimly.
— Exactly, — Bel Iblis agreed. — Diverting forces from the Lianna attack for the Lusankya makes no sense. It's better to keep up the pretense that we're preparing the Lusankya for a strike on Lianna—her departure from the shipyards can serve as a final test.
— So we'll need to pull ships from other fleets, — Wedge noted.
— We'll use the cover story that they're needed for the Lianna attack, — the elderly Corellian said. — That way, we'll have blocking forces right under Santhe's nose, ready to start the first phase of the operation after we defeat Thrawn. Once that's done, we'll combine the first armada with the second, attack Lianna, seize it and the nearby Imperial Remnants, and move on to the campaign against the Dominion.
— Thrawn won't be able to respond to multiple attacks, — Solo said. — We simply have more ships than he does.
— First, we need to secure those ships, — Bel Iblis noted. — And ensure these movements go unnoticed by Thrawn. That's incredibly difficult with the situation at the Palace…
— Hm, — the youngest New Republic general brushed his bangs aside again. — I think we can use the Lusankya as a trap for multiple targets.
— Isard? — Organa-Solo immediately understood.
— According to her claims, her clone is working with Thrawn, — Wedge said. — Iella suspects the real Isard will try to seize the Lusankya. If Palpatine is indeed alive, Iceheart will try to curry favor with him by bringing the ship. She won't want us to deploy the super star destroyer against the Empire. So, she'll likely try to capture it before the crew is fully aboard. The Lusankya's automation allows it to be operated by a minimal crew.
— That's an interesting combination, — Bel Iblis said thoughtfully. — We lure Thrawn out to trade the Lusankya for Skywalker. Isard will likely oppose such a trade, so she'll try to seize the ship before it reaches the Grand Admiral. With enough skill, we can capture her, then proceed to the rendezvous with Thrawn and attempt to defeat him. Once that's done, Isard's clone will likely try to seize power in the Dominion.
— That's just the kind of rotten personality her donor has, — Antilles shrugged.
— While Thrawn and Isard's clone fight for control, we strike Lianna, deprive Thrawn of a major ally, and then deal with the Dominion itself, — Leia suggested.
— Sounds like a plan, — Bel Iblis agreed. — Let's refine it—quickly. I think you and I, General Antilles, should visit Councilor Mon Mothma. Now. If she approves our plan, I'll need to brief the Lusankya's commander within the hour on how to proceed.
***
Grand Moff Kaine's hologram flickered.
— That was a mistake, Thrawn, — the man said.
— On the contrary, — I countered. — Destroying the Ubiqtorate is highly beneficial for both the Dominion and the Pentastar Alignment.
— I don't dispute that the Ubiqtorate and its total control were a hindrance, — Ardus said. — But letting the New Republic take all the credit… That's the mistake!
— There's no mistake, — I replied. — The New Republic's attack on the Ubiqtorate's arsenal and stations is further proof that they're operating within the Alignment's space. Sooner or later, the Emperor or his lackeys would've started asking why you're losing transports and escort ships, yet no one sees the enemy's actions.
— I understand this was necessary insurance for me, but the New Republic is too insistent in denying involvement in the actions against the Ubiqtorate. That's rather odd for them.
— It's actually quite logical, including their denials.
— They didn't hesitate to claim credit for defeating your fleet, but they secretly destroyed the Ubiqtorate and didn't boast about their agents' success? — the Grand Moff asked skeptically. — That's hardly the Republic's style.
— On the contrary, it fits their growing experience. They were careless enough to brag about their "successes" before—and paid for it. Now, having eliminated the Ubiqtorate threat, they're staying silent to avoid trouble and buy time for us to investigate.
— That's weak, — Kaine sneered. — Secretly, on a massive scale, and highly effective—it sounds far too much like your style. The New Republic is probably still reeling from someone wiping out the Ubiqtorate and doesn't know how to deal with it. Palpatine may be mad, but he definitely has clever people around him. We'll need to corroborate this version somehow…
— Leave it to me to ensure the Emperor and his entourage pay as little attention as possible to the New Republic's excuses, — I reminded him subtly. — How has the Ubiqtorate's defeat shifted the balance of power within the Alignment?
— No one's contacted me yet, — Kaine replied. — Previously, Agent Blackhole issued orders and relayed instructions. He hasn't been in touch. No one of similar rank or claiming to represent the Emperor has appeared.
— Continue doing the same work as before…
— Don't order me, Thrawn, — the Grand Moff snapped without malice, cutting me off.
Unrefined.
Emotional.
— That wasn't an order, merely advice—to maintain a stance demonstrating your loyalty to Palpatine's cause, — I said softly, recognizing the man was on edge. Losing all the puppeteers at once (most of the Ubiqtorate's agents were eliminated by the Noghri and Dominion intelligence within the Alignment's territory, where they were entrenched), effectively aiding their destruction by facilitating covert raider movements, was a nerve-wracking process.
Especially when your life and cause are at stake.
— I know, — Kaine said wearily. — I overreacted.
— No harm done, — I said. — How have the defectors from Ennix Devian's and H1's factions compensated for your "losses"?
— About thirty percent, — Ardus said. — Rabid fanatics, unscrupulous butchers… I don't know where Devian found them, but I haven't seen such fervent supporters of the New Order in twenty years. I'd love to shove them onto the Red Dragons under construction and send them into battle.
— My forces are currently finishing off Devian's remaining groups, clearing their bases across the galaxy, — I explained. — I can provide a similar number of soldiers and naval specialists within the next week.
I meticulously honored the prior agreement to transfer to Kaine those Imperials unwilling to serve the Dominion.
I had no need to keep tens of thousands of people with an organic aversion to a noble cause. Kaine, meanwhile, needed personnel to crew the ships he was building for Palpatine.
At the same time, we conducted operations where he supplied me with equipment, gear, and cargo purchased across the galaxy, disguised as transport caravans guarded by his loyal troops and starships.
The New Republic relentlessly attacked these convoys, seizing more ships and "destroying" their escorts.
Kaine was steadily amassing his forces at Devian's former base—the planetoid RZ7-6113-23. As a long-term storage depot, forgotten and covert, it was excellent, but too far from my perimeter.
I had enough "colonies" beyond the metropole to waste resources maintaining another base.
Let Kaine make use of it.
Through these simple maneuvers, I acquired everything needed to repair and upgrade my fleet while establishing reverse-engineering factories and our own production facilities.
Kaine gained the ability to hide a portion of his fleet, which he'd undoubtedly need if the mad Emperor decided to dispose of him.
And the fanatics from the factions I'd crushed… Well, they were expendable.
Fanatics have always, in every era, been used as cannon fodder to preserve valuable troops.
Even in a galaxy far, far away, this principle still holds.
— By the way, — Kaine perked up slightly. — I never thanked you for Kril'Dor. My forces have restored the tibanna mining station your people pulled from its usual orbit and hid in the gas clouds. It's taken a beating, but it's better than nothing.
— And most importantly, a tibanna source right at hand, — I added another point.
— I'd prefer dealing with good old Bespin, — Kaine admitted. — Shame you didn't capture it…
No, not a shame at all.
We took exactly what we needed—truly vast quantities of tibanna, enough for our fleet for the next few years with economical use.
Though, in an ideal scenario, economizing in war leads to defeat.
Despite its weak defenses, capturing Bespin is strategically disadvantageous.
It's one of the galaxy's largest tibanna suppliers and an ally of the New Republic.
Losing it would prompt Coruscant to send everything they have to reclaim the planet.
From what I know, extraordinary measures are currently in place to defend it.
Balmorra's local government has also gone all out, expanding production of modern droids and assembling dozens of defensive stations in orbit.
Coruscant is preparing to bristle with the latest Golan platforms, turning the planet into a tough nut to crack.
According to intelligence reports, despite mass migrations of senators, officials, wealthy industrialists, affluent citizens, and their vast entourages of staff, families, servants, and even slaves back to their homeworlds, I couldn't fully "depopulate" the planet in anticipation of Palpatine's invasion.
Bel Iblis drew the right conclusions, and the planet's defenses are being brought up to standard. The government is spending colossal sums to demonstrate competence in rebuilding the planet, instilling hope in a small percentage of the population that all will be well.
There's even a trend of reverse migration—from other worlds back to Coruscant.
This runs counter to my plan to reduce casualties during Palpatine's bloody conquest. From what I recall of the reference material, after capturing Coruscant, the Imperials ruthlessly slaughtered vast numbers of the population. Palpatine's forces literally marched over bodies to their objectives. During the occupation, they engaged in the extermination of anything living and undesirable.
This left Coruscant virtually depopulated for a significant time, a stark contrast to its once-teeming masses.
I sincerely hope that, in the near future, Coruscant will face a less bloody massacre.
The New Republic, though sluggishly, is learning from our confrontations.
They're updating their military fleet, significantly accelerating the construction of new star cruisers.
Though they're still, as usual, focusing on upgrading a large number of outdated relics…
Soon enough, they'll realize those efforts were in vain.
All these preparations, and many others, will allow the New Republic to thoroughly fray Palpatine's nerves and forces when he comes to conquer those worlds.
Weakening both enemies… Quick, simple, and always effective.
— Holding Bespin with my current forces would be difficult, — I said. — That said, if you need the planet so badly, you're always free to launch your own campaign to seize it.
— No, Kril'Dor is enough for me, — Kaine chuckled. — It's sufficient for supplying my forces and fleet.
Then what's the point of this conversation?
Why kill a bantha if you don't need that much meat and hide?
Oh, right—if you're not harvesting it yourself, why not?
I mustn't forget that my alliance with Kaine is merely a partnership. Ardus, like most Imperials, is a master at reaping rewards through others' efforts.
— So, those Vindicator-class cruisers and gravity well generators you got from me—are they part of a single project? — Kaine asked.
I stared at the hologram.
Why is he suddenly so curious about what I plan to do with the equipment? He has my assurance not to meddle in the Alignment's affairs, and breaking my word is distasteful to me.
At least until they strike first.
— Alright, alright, you don't have to answer, — Kaine grimaced. — It was just a small prelude to the main question.
— Which is? — I inquired.
— You know the Ubiqtorate was the restraining force keeping many hotheads from deserting to your side? — the Grand Moff asked.
So that's the issue…
We discussed this before.
From a slightly different angle.
— I don't think such sentiments are widespread, — I said diplomatically. — A few crews, maybe a dozen at most, might be discussing the possibility, but few would dare act on it. The Ubiqtorate's reputation for intricate and covert schemes is too strong for the military to believe in its destruction overnight, no matter who reports it.
— You're right there, — Kaine nodded. — But I have data indicating that several crews are indeed preparing to defect to the Dominion.
— From the Alignment? — I clarified.
— Among others, — Kaine confirmed. — You understand this sets a dangerous precedent.
I understand perfectly.
If the authorities don't act against deserters, it could happen on a massive scale. And it would recur regularly until all who wish to defect do so.
A dangerous situation.
I have plenty of ships in both the regular fleet and sector security forces—far more than I have trained and cohesive crews.
That's why the same units are consistently on the front lines.
And now Kaine is hinting he has a constructive solution to this problem.
I'm certain it'll come at a cost.
At the very least, I can expect Kaine to slip in double agents.
Ever since the Jenssarai began actively participating in Dominion life, using the Force at customs to intercept scout ships and identify enemy spies among migrants and defectors, my state has been shielded by a durasteel curtain. Any intelligence the enemy gets about us is short-lived—our counterintelligence isn't eating nerf steak for nothing.
Still, there's a chance I could acquire partially trained crews to staff my "idle" ships.
Cloning cylinders can't keep up with the growing demand for ship personnel.
Endlessly using droids to fill crew shortages isn't viable either.
Upgrading starships to "Imp-IIIs" is also slow—our production hasn't yet reached peak capacity for supplying necessary parts. By the most optimistic estimates, I'll have maybe a dozen "Imp-IIIs" by year's end.
And I have a lot of Imperials.
But until the Palpatine threat and the danger to the Dominion are resolved, I can't risk outsourcing ship upgrade projects to third-party shipyards.
"Leaks" happen far too often in such places.
Some data is expected to be disclosed by workers and fall into enemy hands, but key secrets must be guarded as long as possible.
This creates a risk that a significant portion of my ships will remain operational but mothballed.
That's unacceptable given the looming struggle for survival.
And the finale of Operation Crimson Dawn is approaching.
— It's a complex situation, — I said. — We both understand the consequences of ignoring desertion. But forcibly retaining those who wish to defect won't foster political stability either.
— I've thought about that too, — Kaine nodded. — I don't have a problem letting the crews go—they'll find a way to slip away regardless. The issue is, if it happens openly, the publicity could do serious damage.
— And draw unwanted attention from Palpatine, — I agreed. — I suspect you already have a suitable proposal, don't you?
Otherwise, he wouldn't have started this conversation.
— Not everything's about you getting something from me, — Kaine smirked. — I propose organizing a caravan of potential deserters. I'll send them straight to you—on the ships they currently have. Another New Republic attack won't surprise anyone, I presume…
— Suppose so, — I agreed. — And what do you want in return?
Kaine gave a crooked smile.
— A favor, Thrawn, — the Grand Moff said. — Just a favor…
And what he proposed is decidedly not to my liking…
***
Admiral Argentis Duplex was a Zeltron who had long outgrown the carefree days of youth.
Few Zeltrons, even at his age, lose the distinctive sheen of their hair, but the man had endured too much to be self-conscious about his gray locks.
He was well into his fourth decade but still brimming with strength, energy, tactical expertise, and the adventurous spirit typical of his species.
In nature, these qualities rarely coexist comfortably, which is why many Zeltrons often find themselves in absurd or outright dangerous situations.
The latter defined Argentis' entire life.
Admiral Argentis Duplex (New Republic)
He began his career before the Clone Wars, as an officer in the Judicial Corps.
Unlike his kin, raised with strict discipline, he dedicated himself to serving the state from a young age.
By the time the Grand Army of the Republic began battling droid armadas, he was already commanding an Acclamator-class assault ship.
He fought in dozens of battles, witnessed death, and dealt it himself.
He endured personal crises and overcame hardships.
By the time Supreme Chancellor Palpatine declared himself Emperor, the honest and hardworking officer had earned well-deserved respect among his comrades.
He had commanded a Victory-class Star Destroyer before the New Order's tenets reached the military.
No one even pretended to maintain decorum—he was ousted from his ship's bridge, with mocking laughter trailing behind.
Aliens, even human-like ones, weren't particularly welcome in the newly formed Galactic Empire.
When even the human crew members who had served under him during the Clone Wars turned their backs on their commander, Argentis decided to leave the service.
The crew's betrayal was the final straw. Having risen to admiral and commanded a squadron successfully hunting pirates in the Outer Rim, Argentis Duplex left the Imperial Starfleet forever.
Without the right to wear his uniform or claim military pension privileges.
The Empire simply erased a significant part of his life.
Argentis bought a farm and lived there for several years until old non-human comrades, now part of the Rebel Alliance, reached out to him.
After years of deliberation, he joined the rebels.
And fought remarkably well against his former colleagues.
Admiral Ackbar assigned him to command the Second Fleet, where he led an impressive squadron of Mon Calamari star cruisers.
Now, sitting before the Commander-in-Chief, General Bel Iblis, the Zeltron suspected the upcoming conversation would directly concern his impending appointment as commander of the Lusankya.
— What's the crew readiness percentage, Admiral? — Bel Iblis asked without preamble, settling at his desk.
— Forty percent, — Argentis replied promptly. — By the planned timeline, I'll bring the crew's complement and training to sixty or seventy percent. Once the sublight engines are installed on the super star destroyer, we'll be ready for maneuvers and combat coordination.
— Sounds optimistic, — the Corellian grimaced.
— It's a precise calculation, General, — the Zeltron countered.
— I know, — Bel Iblis agreed. — The problem is, we don't have much time, in reality.
Argentis remained silent, understanding that whether he asked questions or not, the Commander-in-Chief would brief him only as much as necessary.
— I just came from a meeting with the Provisional Government, — Bel Iblis said. — We have new adjustments to the plan. The Lusankya will have to engage in battle ahead of schedule.
— In that case, I can't guarantee the crew's cohesion, — the Admiral warned. — Most are recruits. Veterans make up less than three percent, mostly gunners.
— I understand, Admiral, — the Corellian said conciliatorily. — We have one week, two at most, to organize covert transfers of the best personnel from all fleets. We'll start with the crews at Sluis Van. If this operation succeeds, we'll free our people from captivity and destroy the Dominion…
— We're launching a campaign against Grand Admiral Thrawn? — Argentis asked, intrigued.
— Precisely, — Bel Iblis confirmed. — And I need your crew, Admiral, to be ready for the toughest fight you can imagine. We have no margin for error—either we win, or we lose so spectacularly it'll mark the beginning of the end for the New Republic.
— I'm listening, General, — Argentis settled in, ready for the briefing.
The price of a single battle had never been so high.