The bulkhead of the entrance door to my apartments slid back into place, and I rose from the workstation table, stepping toward my guest, behind whom moved a guardsman clad in blue-black armor.
"Baroness D'Asta," I greeted the young woman, gesturing for her to settle on one of the two sofas. "Glad to see you in good health aboard my flagship."
The aristocrat, looking at me distrustfully, still restrained her surprise at what she saw and accepted the nonverbal invitation.
I don't know who helped her, but she looked as if she had come to a high society meeting with access to her wardrobe.
A simple but exquisitely adorned with precious stones and pendants form-fitting dress, an unpretentious but skillfully done hairstyle.
Small earrings of white precious metal, also like the dress, adorned with diamonds, but barely visible under the snow-white hair falling to her shoulders.
The necklace, consisting of diamonds, adorned her pale skin and transitioned to the neckline.
Only a few blood-red stones in the adornment diluted the image, which would suit a bride more than a lady from high society attending a working meeting.
The baroness, having settled, waited until I sat opposite her and filled the glasses with fruit juice, handing her one.
Long thin fingers with nails painted red lacquer scratched my hand.
She didn't take her eyes off the point of contact, clearly trying to figure out if my skin was painted.
"You're still alive," she whispered, tilting her head and taking a small sip from the glass.
"If I got a credit for every time I hear that phrase, I'd buy myself a new Star Destroyer," I confirmed.
"Witty," the baroness set the glass on the transparent table and folded her hands over her dress. "So?"
"I'm afraid you'll have to clarify the context of your question," I admitted, not averting my gaze from her dark eyes.
"You called me baroness," the girl said, shaking her platinum hair. "That means you think the real baroness is dead, or did you initially mistake and there was no clone? I'd like to know your thoughts."
"Currently, I'm interested in where you found jewelry and such an exquisite dress on my ship," I said. "I can't recall a unit where such clothing would be permissible by the Charter."
"You're on a roll, Grand Admiral," the girl smiled strainedly. "Jokes pouring like from a horn of plenty. Practiced?"
"I'm forced to disappoint you. I really am curious where a dress came from on a warship."
The young woman blinked several times, then reached for the juice glass, using the traditional trick for ladies in open-top dresses that fills men's brains with fantasies and bodies with surging hormones.
Too bad to disappoint her, but it doesn't work on those living a second life.
Licking her plump lips, the girl took a sip, then repeated her maneuver in reverse.
"I sewed it," she said. "I'm afraid my apartments now lack curtains."
"And, apparently, part of your luggage that pirates captured on your ship was returned to you," I assumed the origin of the jewelry.
"As if you didn't know," Feena D'Asta grimaced, ruining the composed lady image. "By the way, thanks to your soldiers for saving my life and freeing me from captivity. I don't even know what would have happened to me if I'd been delivered where they planned..."
"You would have met the one behind cloning your original," I said calmly.
The baroness, though restraining herself, couldn't hide the flash of irritation on her face.
"Is that certain?" she asked.
"As is that the Zan Consortium is behind what's happening in your sector," I added.
"Scouts say the rebellious Houses use Black Sun thugs," the aristocrat frowned her thin brows.
"Which, in turn, is a front for the real orchestrator of events," I said. "Sure you don't want to tell anything about your criminal ties? I'm particularly interested in what exactly you told Grappa the Hutt and Sol Mon about events in Imperial Space and the Imperial Ruling Council's designs."
The baroness looked away, biting her lower lip.
However, from her eye movement, it could be concluded she was simply admiring the holographic collection of art objects illuminating the semidarkness.
"I think hiding further is pointless," she returned her gaze but didn't look into my eyes, hypnotizing the frosted glass with the drink. "When father passed his seat on the Imperial Ruling Council to me, we had extremely... unpleasant relations. It's personal, and concerns only us two."
"As you say. I'm only interested in your work moments," I allowed, thereby demonstrating I'd let her keep some secrets in case of candor on the topic interesting me.
"Due to disagreements with father and lack of strong support for my initiatives from him, due to father's desire to end the war between the Empire and the New Republic, conclude a ceasefire agreement even at the cost of concessions, I had to seek support. Loners don't survive in the Imperial Ruling Council. Only having allies there could I continue my activities as a counselor. Otherwise, they'd get rid of me, and I'd have to return to father. With whom I had significant disagreements."
"And who provided it?" I asked. "That very support you needed in the Council."
"Xandell Carivus."
Perfect.
Another name that means nothing to me.
"Who is he?" the question seemed to surprise the lady.
"One of the Imperial Ruling Council members who supported your appointment as Supreme Commander of the Empire," she said.
What the...
A slip that could have quite unpleasant consequences.
And again, a reminder to myself—control!... I so strongly believed I'd severed ties with the past that I didn't even think one question could spark an investigation into "gaps in the Grand Admiral's memory."
"I know his position in the Imperial Ruling Council," I said calmly, trying to maintain indifference. "I'm far more interested in information about who he is in the Black Sun hierarchy? Which, actually, was my previous question."
The wording is cumbersome, of course, but at least it establishes semantic connections between the slip and the supposed true background of the cunning question.
"That's unknown to me," the young woman shook her head. "Carivus, though an outspoken ambitious fool, if connected to Black Sun, didn't say so directly. No, he made it unmistakably clear that I wouldn't last long in the Imperial Ruling Council without accepting someone's patronage."
"Was that patron Lord Quest?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied. "First, Carivus helped me gain some positions, introduced me to the right sentients. Then Quest appeared in my sight. As I understood, Carivus spent time with me to see if I could even meet Quest and negotiate. Losing father's influence on Imperial Space, I understood I'd soon lose my post. Sarcev Quest told me that councilors could turn a blind eye to my influence not backed by sector positions. They also conveyed to me that some councilors don't want the Empire's prosperity as Palpatine made it. Like my father—they planned negotiations with the rebels."
"The negotiation party is those councilors who spoke against my appointment?" I asked.
"For the most part," Feena stated. "Among those who despise you is also General Immodet, for example. But he proceeded solely from your racial inferiority position."
Oh, how familiar it smelled.
New Order, human superiority over other galaxy races, where the latter's fate is to be slaves.
"So, the conspiracy within the Imperial Ruling Council was created for purges of the Council itself?" I clarified.
"Initially—yes," the baroness agreed. "It was assumed that, after clearing the Council of disloyal sentients caring only for themselves, we'd proclaim Quest's protege—Carnor Jax—as Emperor. He's listed among the Imperial Guards, but actually Force-sensitive. And, if they haven't changed the plan, he intends to kill Palpatine to take his place. True, they didn't tell me this right away. However, if Quest is right and the Emperor is mad, cares for nothing but revenge on the New Republic, then good riddance to him. To the underworld from which he returned."
So that's how it is.
It turns out...
Extremely interesting.
Obviously, the lady didn't tell me everything at our previous meeting, deciding she could keep some secrets to herself.
So, the calculation to leave her to stew in the pot of civil war to achieve loyalty and revelation without risking "spoiling" or destroying the clone during interrogations was justified.
"But, as I understood, that's just the beginning. Those who didn't pass the check at this level were eliminated and not admitted to other secrets."
"And the real goal of the conspirators led by Sarcev Quest is Palpatine's destruction?"
"Exactly," if the girl was surprised, she stayed silent. "I learned about this not long ago. But, like the other conspirators, neither I nor anyone else saw Palpatine—only Quest. He, after the Dominion's formation, said our goals had finally changed. Now we must not just eliminate disloyal to the New Order sentients with maximum efficiency, but also remove the Emperor. Put Jax on the throne."
"And Quest himself and the other Council members will be among the close ones," I continued.
"That was the plan," the young woman agreed.
"And talks of appointing me or Kaine as Emperor are manipulation attempts."
"I think there's no point confirming your guesses anymore," the baroness sighed. "Exactly. Use the promise of coronation for you and the Grand Moff in exchange for you destroying the Empire's enemies. Naturally, neither of you would live to that moment."
Self-evident.
An intriguing plan.
Promise benefit—for me and Kaine, leading the Empire would be a good boost to solving our own problems.
He would satisfy his carefully masked lust for power.
I'm sure if a path to the throne was paved for him, Ardan would easily forget his fear of excessive power.
Mitt'raw'nurudo, becoming emperor, could easily prepare nearly half the galaxy for war with the Yuuzhan Vong.
That's why he started the campaign.
But, despite his genius, he couldn't understand it was a trap for an alien.
So, even if he won in the events known to me, he (or Kaine) would be eliminated to crown Carnor Jax.
Well, the rest is known to me.
The Dominion's creation and own fleet frightened the Council.
They began seeking ways to destroy, provoking invasions for retaliatory strikes.
Eliminated Baron D'Asta, hoping to undermine supplies.
But the baron's daughter clone for some reason refused to reconcile with her father's murder, so she started her struggle for the sector.
Which they tried to take away, working with other Houses that all oppose the baroness's troops.
Only one question remains unclear:
"How did you connect with Black Sun?" I asked.
"Carivus, before introducing me to Quest, told me he had a business partner who could provide support from some previously splintered Imperial factions."
And this is already very interesting.
"Which factions?" I asked.
"Xandell didn't name them. Only later did I learn it was about some deranged clone with a number instead of a name, and the faction of Palpatine's former hired killer, Ennix Devian," the baroness explained.
And this is already extremely interesting.
So, some entity maintained ties between these factions and Supreme Ruling Council members via Xandell Carivus?
"I destroyed both factions," indifferent admission.
"Yes, I know," she replied. "And Moff Delurin, on whose help I counted in the power struggle, also became unavailable. I think you eliminated him too?"
"Do you really want to know the answer?" I asked.
"Not particularly," the baroness admitted. "Moff Gronn and his fleet that vanished before the attack on Orinda—is that also your doing?"
"Were you connected to Gronn too?" I asked.
"I was negotiating support when I met Carivus's contact," Feena said frankly.
"And who was that?"
The baroness exhaled heavily and swore softly. ... "I just, on Carivus's advice, took time to rest and relax. Arranged a short vacation and met the indicated ship in open space, boarded, met the envoy. He took me to a man who introduced himself as Yull Asib," and here's the late advisor from the Corporate Sector showing himself. "It turned out I was on Sol Mon's pirate ship. That was the first time I saw him. And I still thought the last. Asib offered me support and his influence, as well as all Black Sun resources available in the Imperial Ruling Council, in exchange for reciprocal services."
"And what kind?" I asked.
"He wanted to know about movements of some councilors—including those in the New Republic reconciliation group. Wanted to know about Imperial Space raids, as well as plans to subjugate other Remnants or sectors. They were particularly interested in pro-Imperial sectors near the corporates, as well as the Tion Cluster, Tapani, Galactic Core."
"Yull Asib promised you support from other Imperial factions like Delurin, Devian, X1, Gronn?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied. "But not personally—through the envoy who met me first."
How intriguing.
"Who was that?"
"I'd never seen him before," the baroness admitted. "He didn't name himself either. Said he'd maintain contact with me—if I needed anything, I could just turn to Grappa the Hutt for help."
"And did you?" I clarified.
"Yes, the Hutts sponsored several of my projects."
"And which ones?"
"Do you think my father won the tender for transports across all Imperial Space on his own?" the baroness asked with a chuckle. "Or maybe ISB just turned a blind eye to what he says and what appeasement policy he conducts? Being a councilor is unprofitable if you have nowhere to get money from. Bribes, kickbacks, balls and parties, sponsoring eliminations of competitors and traitors—all that requires funds."
"I can assume you also reported elimination targets to your new partners?" I asked.
"Yes," the baroness replied. "And over time, I noticed that some of them, as soon as I mentioned that Quest's group was considering their elimination, changed their viewpoint to the opposite in a couple of weeks."
"Interesting," I said, pulling gloves from behind my belt and slowly putting them on. "Do you know where to find the intermediary who met you on the ship before the talk with Asib?"
"No idea," she shrugged. "And is he really that important?"
"We'll judge after we finish the current operation," I said. "Has anyone tried to contact you after you joined the sector struggle?"
"Asib's envoy," she replied. "Literally shortly before the attack and abduction."
"What was the conversation about?"
"He warned me I'd regret my choice. Offered to lay down arms and support the sector's other Houses. I refused."
Curious.
"Were the other Houses' troops always mercenaries?"
"No," the woman stated. "But we crushed their toy armies in the first weeks. Mercenaries appeared later. And a stalemate arose on the front."
Likely.
"Did you report movements of D'Astan sector's other House representatives to any of your patrons?" I asked.
"Yes," the baroness frowned. "They flew to some conference in the Corporate Sector. Probably hiring an army there through shell companies. But what does it matter?"
"Direct," because it explains why all sector Houses oppose the baroness. They, like her, are clones. The question is only why she rebelled after "brainwashing," and they didn't?
But, I fear, the baroness can't answer this question.
"Are you familiar with a sentient named Makus Kaynif?" I inquired, watching the woman's reaction closely.
If this sentient was in Imperial databases, I'd show her a holophoto.
But, unfortunately, if the records we have are to be believed, no one ever used such a combination of name and surname.
Which means—erased tracks.
And very thoroughly swept.
"I've never heard of him," the baroness admitted.
And her reaction, body position—everything says the truth was spoken.
Not the truth—but truth.
At least, the baroness herself believes it.
Subjectively, nothing more to get from her.
Currently.
"Thank you for the informative conversation," I finished packing my palms in gloves and looked into the clone's eyes. "You may return to your quarters, Baroness. We're done."
The girl arched an eyebrow.
"And that's all?" she asked.
"Currently, nothing more interests me," I admitted.
"But I have a couple of questions," the lady was noticeably angry. "For example: 'What am I doing on this ship while a civil war rages in my sector?'. Or: 'Don't you want to demonstrate your command talent and rid me of Black Sun thugs?' Because if not, then for what Hutt should my factories send goods to the Dominion, receive modernized equipment in exchange, but not an army that could easily solve all problems? Even a couple of Destroyers would suffice to scatter my adversaries' fleet? Or have you developed other plans regarding the D'Astan sector, Grand Admiral?"
Such a persistent one.
But she's right on one point—the situation is such that personal intervention in the civil war is needed.
This is no longer a Hutt operation to capture the sector.
This, actually, is the Zan Consortium's operation to conquer rich and production-provided sectors.
The baroness's story confirmed my worst assumptions—the Empire didn't fracture on its own whim.
It was done deliberately, to digest the "elephant" in parts.
Was Ennix Devian a clone—I can no longer know.
Delurin—was not.
But he didn't control the Remnant either.
Only a planet inhabited by warlike reptiles.
Gronn—is a clone.
X1—also a clone.
But created on Kamino.
Feena—is also a clone.
But if Gronn advocated secession, Feena conversely—for joining territories to the Empire.
Where's the logic?
Why was she programmed that way specifically?
"I'll handle solving your problem, Baroness, as soon as I deprive the Zan Consortium, pretending to be Black Sun, of the ability to produce clones," I said. "A significant part of which, judging by your story, came to light with your direct participation."
"So, can I contact my supporters from the Chimaera and say I'm alive, that help is coming?" the lady clarified.
"Do that without my permission—and you'll be ejected into vacuum," I warned. "In your entourage, Zan Consortium spies are surely more numerous than true friends."
"If so, they would have surely destroyed me..." ... "And why would they do that if, as it seems to me, they planned either to reprogram you again or replace with a new clone?" I inquired. "And among the army fighting for the baroness's interests, there will always be those who, one way or another, will refuse to obey orders after she disappears, and her entourage changes policy, turning into a threat..."
I cut myself off mid-sentence.
Oh, well.
How simple it all is.
"Grand Admiral?" the woman clarified. "Are you alright?"
"Undoubtedly," I confirmed.
"You just abruptly interrupted your speech," the woman looked at me warily. "I got worried..."
"Everything's fine, Baroness," I said, smiling restrainedly. "I just realized why you weren't programmed like a typical Zan Consortium 'sleeper agent'."
"And why?" she asked.
I looked at the ship's chronometer.
"You have half an hour to change into clothing suitable for an excursion," I informed. "If you wish, you can accompany me to the surface of the world where you were born."
"We're returning to Nez Peron?" the clone was surprised.
"No," I replied. "We're flying to the planet Smarck. The location of the Zan Consortium's cloning laboratory."