Scheduled chapter. 125 power stones left for an extra. Or you can go and leave a bunch of reviews.
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Ten years, six months, and thirteen days after the Battle of Yavin…
Or the forty-fifth year, sixth month, and thirteenth day after the Great Resynchronization.
(One year, two months, and twenty-eighth day since the Arrival.)
The starship landed on the landing pad quite easily, even filigree, one might say.
As a spacecraft piloted by a virtuoso pilot should.
But then the charm of the landing vanished.
It began as soon as the landing struts touched the permacrete and the weight of the multi-ton structure transferred onto them.
One of the struts buckled at the very last moment.
The modified freighter tilted and was about to topple over, but the pilot timely activated the anti-gravity engines and managed to keep the ship stable.
Technicians rushed to the starship, and within a dozen minutes, a support-dampening device, designed specifically for such situations, was in place of the damaged landing strut.
The ship's cargo hatch swung open, and two men exited without much fuss.
One of them, bearing signs of bandages, was immediately taken into the caring hands of medics and directed to the medical center.
The cyborg Lobot, the right hand of Administrator Calrissian, acted with machine-like calculation and anticipation.
And, it must be said, his skill at calculating situations here was invaluable.
Because Kyle Katarn's wounds, sustained in the skirmish with Mandalorians from the Skirata clan and during the subsequent retreat while exchanging fire with the Mandalorian Protectors, had drained almost the entire ship's supply of medications needed to stabilize the wounded.
Kadmis Fuon had only used a small portion on himself — to stay conscious and bring the starship to its destination.
And the final point of his journey was not the Mon Calamari system with the Alliance's capital — the planet Dac.
He flew to Iego.
The place where the head of the Alliance's Foreign Ministry, Princess Leia, was located.
A subordinate had arrived for a personal meeting with his patron.
Kadmis, limping and cradling his arm burned in the shootout with the Mandalorians, hobbled over to the aircar waiting for him and allowed the droid to take him to the stated address.
It must be said that the Solo family friend had chosen quite a scenic planet for establishing his tourist business for wealthy clients.
Not only was Iego a truly legendary planet, whose path thousands of seekers across the galaxy had tried to find for many years, possibly even millennia, but the search itself was worth it.
The Planet Iego.
Kadmis had received directions on how to get here directly from the Princess when he left Mandalore and reported what had happened to her via a secret communication line through the 'Alliance HoloNet'.
That was how he learned his boss was on vacation and had left Alliance headquarters.
And after those words, Kadmis realized that things in the state were far worse than he would have liked.
Something out of the ordinary must have happened for one of the guiding lights of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, an ideological leader of the Rebellion alongside Mon Mothma and many others, the ever-optimistic and never-say-die Leia Organa-Solo, to decide to take a vacation.
The latter was nothing out of the ordinary, but to leave the capital, lay down her duties (even if temporarily), sever contacts with the Foreign Ministry, and hide from everyone, everyone, everyone…
The Princess had never done that before.
Kadmis was flattered, of course, that Leia hadn't refused or hidden her location from him.
After all, he was one of her best diplomats.
But it was definitely an alarming sign.
Kadmis pondered the reasons for the Princess's such ambiguous démarche while the driver droid, following its programmed instructions, monotonously extolled the virtues of Iego.
It told him that here, on one of the moons, lived the so-called Angels — legendary creatures that, according to tradition, had caused thousands of shipwrecks on the planet.
Supposedly, in ancient times, they would surround a spacer's starship and somehow put them into a trance, causing the ship to crash.
How they did this and for what purpose they caused mischief, the droid didn't say.
Whether this was part of an advertising campaign to entertain tourists or not, no one greeted Kadmis that way.
And besides, his ship was damaged in a battle with Mandalorian patrol ships when the diplomat and spy fled the planet.
Leaning back on the passenger bench seat, Kadmis enjoyed the view of the beautiful sky, so clear, almost devoid of clouds, that he could see the asteroid field in orbit through it.
The diplomat squinted, tensing when he saw energy lines suddenly appear between the asteroids.
A couple of moments, and the golden-yellow beams simply disappeared, having momentarily linked a good hundred cosmic boulders together with energy lines.
At a rough estimate, the power was such that it could easily slice a large ship to pieces or incinerate something the size of a Galactic Alliance starfighter.
"What is that?" he asked the driver when the light show in orbit repeated, not just in its original spot but in three adjacent sectors of the sky.
But the source of these lines was one.
As if someone was releasing a powerful energy beam that linked the asteroids, colliding with them and reflecting in other directions.
Given that Kadmis noticed no cosmic drift in orbit, it could be assumed the cosmic boulders maintained their orbital position constantly.
The droid had to have the diplomat explain exactly what he was asking several times before it deigned to reply.
However, Kadmis had no doubt that the driver had all along been frantically signaling the central control center about the specific information they wanted from it.
"Repair work is being conducted in orbit," the driver explained.
"And what exactly is being repaired?" Fuon asked.
"Sorry, I don't have access to that information. Please direct this question to Administrator Lobot or Director Calrissian directly, or to authorized persons."
Questioning was pointless — the sentient dispatcher had clearly blocked the spread of such information.
Well, something interesting was definitely happening in orbit.
He should ask about what those rays in the sky were.
And just then, the taxi delivered him to the meeting place address specified by Princess Leia.
Sighing, the diplomat headed to meet his boss.
* * *
The ysalamiri stretched blissfully, rolling over on her knees so my fingers could stroke her belly.
She loved affection, sleeping, chewing leaves, avoiding burdensome work, and sleeping.
Just like a 'spirit' in 'training'.
"Sir," Lieutenant Colonel Tierce appeared to my right.
"Report."
"The transport with the members of the Skirata Clan has left the flight deck. We are observing the transition to hyperspace."
"Excellent. Order a search of all the rooms they were in, all the areas they moved through, and adjacent ones. Nothing they might have left us as unpleasant surprises should escape attention."
"Understood, sir."
"Is Fodeum Sabre De'Luz still meditating?" I inquired.
"Yes, sir. Darth Maul has submitted a verbal request to enlist him in the Shadow Guard."
A logical move from the Zabrak.
He is the de facto leader of the wetwork squad, so replenishing numbers and recruiting new battle comrades is his primary concern.
Right after self-improvement for his promised confrontation with Darth Sidius.
"Tell him I've heard his request," he couldn't address me personally since medics and mechanics were still working on his prosthetics, trying to repair them. "The decision to join the Shadow Guard will be made by the candidate himself. That rule is unchangeable. If Darth Maul wants to see Fodeum Sabre De'Luz among his charges, let him get on his feet and go to his cabin for a personal conversation. Message relay is what other sentients on this ship are for."
"That's exactly what I told him, sir," a slight chuckle was heard in Tierce's voice.
"So I take it Darth Maul appealed to the fact that he was injured during the recent battle and asked for leniency?"
"No, sir. He demanded obedience."
"Did you remind him that no one has ever survived being jettisoned overboard during a hyperspace jump?"
"Yes, sir. At that point, he asked me to leave him alone with the droids and technicians."
The 'surprise' came from where I least expected it.
I don't know what technical skills Mother Talzin possessed thirty years ago when she transformed scrap metal into his current limbs, but it was beyond our understanding.
Presumably, the Dathomirian witch was knowledgeable in the Jedi art known as Mechu-deru.
Based on what I know, this Force ability allowed a sentient to manifest their extrasensory abilities in the field of technology, intuitively understanding it at a level unattainable for other mortals.
Unfortunately, the Jensaarai Order had no such specialists, and data on this ability is scarce to develop such an art independently without undue concern.
There is a certain suspicion that Maul won't be able to fully recover technically anytime soon.
I'll have to send him to 'IsoTech-Dominion' to Kratalla, so she can study the prosthetics and apply her genius to repair the damage.
We won, repelled the attack of the Silri Syndicate, uncovered their direct connection with the New Republic (or, for now — specifically with Fey'lya), and acquired trophies.
The latter will remain at the Karthakk shipyards, in the "holding area" until Chief Engineer Reyes' subordinates check them with all kinds of scanners.
And only then, when the danger of possible self-destructs is neutralized, the ships will be brought to the repair bay walls.
Their future is already determined.
The Crusaders will go to replenish our fleet, as will the escort frigates.
The former have settled well into the regular fleet, the latter into the Defense Forces for direct escort.
Grand Moff Ferrus has reported more than once that, although we have defeated the largest and strongest pirate groups in the controlled territories, isolated incidents still occur.
Yes, two to five lone pirate raiders per sector is not the biggest problem.
In Imperial times, the number of such "independent" pirates reached a hundred.
Which is not surprising, given that a single sector can have thousands of stars and hundreds of planets, one way or another suitable for life.
Grand Moff Ferrus's department is bending over backward to verify and re-verify information about various worlds that were ignored by galactic and regional states in the past.
We are growing — both "in breadth" and "in depth."
And no matter how much beings far from economics and industry (or pretending to be) spite in the HoloNet about how the Dominion's economy and industry are actually worth nothing, we hold on and develop.
Yes, not least due to purchasing everything needed on the black market.
Yes, the assets of the Separatist treasury and the auridium reserve provide a substantial share of stability.
But the real sector of the Dominion's economy exists, expands, and strengthens day by day.
Any state could ensure such growth for itself.
One just needs to send corrupt officials, saboteurs to be devoured by energy spiders on Kessel, and provide tickets to labor camps for colonizing planets to idiots who came to power.
Then the system of state bureaucracy, even if barely, will churn out real results.
There is nothing surprising about the Dominion's "economic miracle."
I used the development model of the People's Republic of China — there are resources, opportunities, but a lack of knowledge, skills, equipment, and technology.
For the first two points, it's enough to clone the necessary specialists and put to work those who wish to labor.
Equipment is perfectly purchased on the black market, through shell companies, in volumes needed both for production and for study by our specialists.
Well, as for technology...
We started with reverse engineering.
The more sectors joined the Dominion, the stronger we became in the field of technology.
The residents of Fo'fea alone covered our needs in the defense and civilian industrial sectors across most points.
And the process does not stop for a second.
A vivid example of what the Dominion does in all aspects of its life is our Star Destroyers.
We took what exists.
Modernized it to work better, taking into account already known problems.
During the improvement work, we accumulated technical solutions for a global overhaul.
And now, we already have our own Star Destroyers, which from their predecessors have only familiar hull rims.
"Sir, will there be orders regarding Jedi Master Arligan Zey?" Grodin clarified.
"For now, he remains our guest," I reminded. "I will personally discuss with him the matters that interest us soon. Is Delta Squad ready to deploy for a new mission?"
"Yes, sir, but... I would like to note that sending our only experienced commandos to support Kavil's Corsairs risks jeopardizing the operation to revive the Clone Commando project."
"I perfectly understand your concerns, Lieutenant Colonel. But we have already obtained the necessary biological samples from them. Memory scans have also been performed, so if they fail, we won't lose this fight."
"Yes, sir."
"Delta Squad's participation will ensure our victory in the final stage of the conflict with the Silri Syndicate."
"Yes, sir. But, if I may note, the Skirata clan did not commit the sabotage for no reason. They have something planned regarding the Syndicate. Perhaps they are ready to infiltrate to get answers about what happened to their clan on Mandalore."
"That is exactly what they will do," I confirmed. "But first, they should discuss everything in an expanded council."
"Including those clan members who were absent from Mandalore during the attack?"
"Exactly so," I confirmed. "The weakness of Clan Skirata and all those trained by Kal Skirata is that they are, with rare exceptions, unable to act individually on definitive matters. What concerns each of them personally and does not threaten the Clan or Mandalorians directly — those are each person's problems. The situation with the Silri Syndicate and my stated intentions regarding Kamino and Rothana force the clan and its allies to act quickly and harshly. They have already received confirmation that Fenn Shysa is not a clone. And they are operating from several perspectives, one of which is that we are behind what happened on Mandalore."
"Am I to understand that we managed to recover the deleted data?"
"In progress," I explained. "But the encrypted chips are essentially archival data of key operations. Silri was not as simple as she might have seemed. One way or another, she was a clever woman who knew how to cover her bases. And she also began looking for countermeasures for her ally. To some extent, her searches were successful."
"And I am also pleased that Silri had detailed notes about Darth Ziilenlos and his army."
"And now my metaknowledge won't look so suspicious — everything I know about the carbonite Sith army, and even more, she provided us on the chips."
"In that case, should we devote more attention to finding and eliminating the clone of Galen Marek?" asked Tierce.
"He has caused us some inconvenience, but we will not waste resources on killing him," I said. "Even crippled and insane, he remains a valuable asset. One that will be used as part of Plan Beta."
"As was originally intended."
"Exactly, Lieutenant Colonel. But this time, we will set our enemies against each other, then let them weaken each other. And then we'll finish off the survivors."
"Using the Syndicate's tactics against them?"
"It is a convenient tactic in the current situation, and it was by no means invented by the Silri Syndicate," I clarified. "We are gaining more and more enemies, and our standoff with the Syndicate is unforgivably dragging on. Indirectly, we are approaching what the enemy wanted — getting drawn into unnecessary bloodshed. Before we put an end to the Silri Syndicate's existence, we need to secure ourselves on several other fronts. And obtain information on how the planned operations are proceeding in other directions."
"Is this the time you are giving Clan Skirata to infiltrate Kamino and Rothana?"
"Exactly. Ordo Skirata and the other 'Nulls' are by no means stupid. They have access codes through the minefields shielding the planets we are interested in. And presumably, they will use them soon. At the moment, I am more concerned with the information from chip number two, obtained from Silri's apartments."
"She prepared a large registry of corporations that, in her opinion, are directly or indirectly under the influence of Darth Ziilenlos," agreed Tierce. "This could be a problem. It's unlikely she kept disinformation in her hiding place."
"Not 'could be,' but already is," I corrected. "Of course, no one is dismissing the latter possibility. It will be verified. But it's unlikely that we are being deliberately misled. It would be too easy to check."
"Yes, sir, I agree with that. Will there be any orders regarding Kuat Drive Yards?"
"Not at the moment. My intention was to keep the maximum number of Super Star Destroyers and similar-class ships under Dominion control. To prevent them from falling into the hands of our enemies, with the exception of Palpatine, whose matter will be dealt with later. A similar policy applies to superweapons. Right now, we stand on the brink of the enemy, capable of calculating their opponents' moves, possibly obtaining power that could unpleasantly surprise us. Much to my regret, we are no longer able to prevent this. All we can do now is observe how the situation develops. Our enemy is cunning, smart, and treacherous. Where Silri and Zann relied on substituting clones for real officials, he achieved their cooperation through other means. What those means are, we do not yet know. And that is a problem. To solve it, we need to free up resources, for which it's time to finish several ongoing operations."
"Completely agreed, sir. Where do we start?"
"First, we will go to the Yavin system. I am not satisfied with the duration of the operatives' work there. A crisis is brewing. We cannot afford to mark time."
"Understood, sir. Will there be orders regarding the intentions of Executor Sedriss?"
"First, we'll reach the Gordian Reach. Then — assess the situation and send a suitable contingent to eliminate him."
Tierce remained silent. There was nothing to say. We both understood that the time had come for decisive action across all galactic fronts.
* * *
The little restaurant attracted with its open views of Iego's beauties, excellent menu, and magnificent staff of live chefs.
And also, unfortunately, it was so far the only place in Lando's tourist complex called "The Drop" where visitors could get a hot meal.
Calrissian did not get clever with the name of his facility and used what this complex of buildings had had for long decades.
Formerly, The Drop was a spaceport city built right into the cliff.
Founded in the last years of the Galactic Republic's existence, The Drop was used by smugglers as a center for producing, storing, and shipping spice.
Drug convoys eventually stopped moving, the smugglers cleared out, but a few residents remained in the city, managing their half-ruined home.
During the Clone Wars, the Confederacy of Independent Systems discovered Iego and captured the world, but soon after left it, leaving a sizable contingent of battle droids in The Drop's facilities.
Lando said that on Iego, the CIS planned to create something like a headquarters or secret base where they could retreat and hide.
But for some reason, that didn't happen.
After the Separatists left, the residents of The Drop could not leave the planet because their ships were repeatedly destroyed by the Laser Net Defense Station left by the Confederacy.
The superstitious residents believed instead that an evil spirit named Drool was preventing them from leaving, and so they resettled the town of The Drop anew.
The city of "The Drop."
As Leia learned, only Jedi were able to break this superstition.
One of them was her father.
Immediately after that, the already few inhabitants of Iego bolted away at first cosmic speed.
According to Calrissian, one of the former residents of The Drop, while telling him how to get to the planet, kept saying: "I'd rather die in a sarlacc's gut than go back there."
In Leia's view, it wasn't bad here.
And if Lando's advertisement that time has no power over the inhabitants here turns out to be true, then why not stay here forever?
Far away... from everything.
However, as it turned out, the galaxy itself does not want to let her go, constantly throwing well-known faces in her path.
"I would never have believed it possible to find a planet that Lando hasn't even opened for tourist visits yet," her highness commented, casting a critical eye over the middle-aged man with long, graying hair sitting at her favorite table. "I thought you and your organization had limits to your competence."
The lanky smuggler standing nearby shrugged casually and calmly.
"Calrissian is an excellent businessman," he remarked. "We act on his behalf. Find what's needed, deliver where needed. He pays — we work."
"And succeeded," Leia praised, carefully pretending not to notice the sarcastic undertones in her interlocutor's voice.
Well, of course. Talon Karrde and his organization were used for a long time first by the New Republic, then by the Galactic Alliance. But if the former at least paid for the smugglers of all stripes getting involved in providing the state with everything necessary and launching interstellar trade, then the Alliance...
"If it's not a secret," Leia couldn't help asking, "how much does the Alliance owe you for your help?"
The Claw took a sip of whiskey from his glass, then smiled.
"Do you really want to know that, Princess?" he clarified, looking into Leia's eyes, who had settled comfortably at the same table with him.
"Yes," she replied.
"In what currency should I give you the calculation?" Karrde continued smiling.
"In whichever is more convenient for you."
"Oh... Well, in peggats I could persuade Kuat Drive Yards to pluck up courage and build me a couple of Star Destroyers. Plus, it would be enough to hire a team of professional soldiers. And to maintain that operation for a couple of years."
For some reason, Leia felt ashamed.
"I'm sorry," she said. "You got involved in cooperation with the Galactic Alliance because of us..."
It seemed the smuggler barely refrained from looking at her as if she were a little fool.
Yes, well-conceived priorities for a trained politician, the foreign minister of an entire state.
"Business," the interlocutor briefly dropped, admiring the sky. "Business, especially mine, is subject to risks. You earn here, you lose there. Take, for instance, our mutual acquaintance, Calrissian. In how many fields has he tried himself. Cloud City, Nkllon, now Iego... By the way, did you know that Thrawn — may he rest in peace, but may corpse-eaters gnaw his bones — personally offered Lando to move to his Dominion? And even offered him to lead almost a ready-made business."
"How do you know that?" Leia tensed. "Unless your informants were present during such a conversation..."
"No, no, my organization hasn't yet learned to hide in plain sight," Karrde chuckled. "Lando told me himself when he asked for help with transporting what was needed for the defensive system."
Well, if that was the case... Leia, who had tensed internally at the mention of Thrawn, relaxed when she heard Karrde's words about the grand admiral's corpse.
If Thrawn were actually alive, and Garm Bel Iblis had been right in his manic belief in it, then Karrde would certainly know.
Most likely.
The ex-princess furrowed her plucked eyebrows.
"And why don't I know anything about this? About your conversation."
"Because we didn't shout it from every corner," Karrde chuckled. "Sorry, Princess, but you're getting carried away. I don't think your associates should report to you about their conversations with anyone and their content."
Leia felt her cheeks redden.
"Yes, sorry, you're right. I'm just... a bit..."
"Besides," Karrde pretended not to even notice her embarrassment, "Grand Admiral Thrawn is usually a fetish for the male part of the Galactic Alliance government. Funny... How deeply he sunk into the souls of his enemies. Probably, Bel Iblis tears his pillow with his teeth at night, thinking that Thrawn's death was his brilliant plan, by which he remained undefeated. Don't take this as rudeness, but does Bel Iblis report his nightmares to you?"
I think he's mocking me...
Leia reached out to the interlocutor with the Force, but...
As always, no matter how hard she tried, in conversations with the Claw, the Force failed.
"I'm on vacation," Organa Solo said dryly.
"But that doesn't stop you from meeting with subordinates, does it?" Karrde smiled.
For once, it occurred to Leia to use not only the Force, which she had mostly never managed to tame, but also her vision.
She looked at her interlocutor more closely.
Karrde's gaunt face was hard.
Official relations between the Galactic Alliance and Karrde's organization were completely terminated due to the senile Bel Iblis, who saw spies at every step.
And probably still do, I suppose.
But, honestly, she hadn't thought Karrde could have found out...
"I don't like being spied on," she couldn't think of other words. "What interest did I arouse in your organization?"
He dismissed her assumption with a careless wave of a narrow palm; the slightest traces of bitterness dissolved into a dry acceptance of the situation.
"Not you," clarified the Claw. "It's that your subordinate, a diplomat who also serves as an intelligence resident in the Mandalorian sector, to shake off beings that were tailing him, stole one of my ships. And, as I saw on the landing pad, he clearly damaged the freighter. I hope at least he didn't dump the cargo. Do you mind if we wait for his arrival together?"
Leia felt her face flush again.
No, well, really!
"I apologize to you on his behalf."
"Oh, come on," Karrde continued calmly, ignoring her remark. "The loss from long-term freezing of perishable goods worth two hundred thousand credits is a trifle compared to the story of what could have led to one of the best scouts, a student of General Cracken himself, being forced to flee Mandalore. And accused of terrorism, no less. Not to mention that Jan Ors, Kyle Katarn's partner and beloved, was killed. And the latter barely survived."
Leia pursed her lips.
Karrde... was a courteous guy.
But he is an information dealer.
And what Bridger reported about the reasons for the failure, the Claw will clearly use for profit.
On the other hand... Karrde had never acted to harm her or her family personally.
Despite their long acquaintance, Leia still hadn't grasped the limits of this being's simple human curiosity.
"I'm sorry you lost the ship and cargo," the former princess repeated. "But... these are secret negotiations."
"Don't worry about it," Karrde advised her. "I just want to understand whether there's a point in continuing to cultivate the Mandalorians for contraband supplies, or whether it's better to close that direction."
From a simple humanity perspective, Organa Solo should have allowed him to be present at the meeting.
From the perspective of working as Minister of Foreign Affairs, she needed to immediately express deep concern, strike a pose, and send the interlocutor... packing.
But there's something else.
A social role that she had practically forgotten recently, but was now trying to reclaim with all her might.
"Do you, by any chance, know how the search for Galen is going?" the ex-princess inquired, pretending to be very interested in the hot dishes section of the menu. "I was told he got lost somewhere in space and no one can track him down..."
"By chance, I do know," Talon Karrde responded in kind to Leia. "He is looking for Captain Irvin. And quite successfully from a certain point of view. He has already discovered two temporary bases of Dominion privateers and personally destroyed them. Granted, the bases were automated and had nothing and no one on them, but he got at least some satisfaction."
"And who is that?" Leia clarified. "Captain Irvin... Some small fry in the pirate world?"
"The first thing you need to know about Irvin," said the smuggler, raising a finger. "This man once managed to cheat the Separatist remnants out of a whole squadron of starships. The second thing, which you certainly cannot not know, is that most of those ships were sold by him to the Alliance to Restore the Republic. At rock-bottom prices, by the way."
Leia smiled condescendingly.
"In our time, we bought ships everywhere we could. I fully admit that this being might have helped us. In a way, I even feel sorry for him — Galen will clearly not leave him alive."
"There was no help there," said Karrde. "Simple purchase and sale agreements. Oh, you cannot possibly not remember them. They were the only deals with morally obsolete ships where you paid ninety-seven percent of their market value for the ships."
The young woman's face darkened.
"Well," she said dryly. "In that case, I take back my words about pity. Such a miser does not deserve mercy."
"Third," Karrde extended another finger. "Irvin sold the ships for twenty percent of their maximum value. Everything else was tacked on by your bosses. And the seventy-seven percent difference ended up in their pockets. From each ship Irvin sold to the Alliance. Millions and millions of credits, gently taken from the depths of the Alliance's modest budget and placed in the deep pockets of specific people. If I remember correctly, the Alliance was then held together by Alderaan's money, wasn't it?"
"That's a very unfunny joke, Karrde."
"And no one is joking. Revolutions are started by idealists, carried out by patriots, and profited from by businessmen. Sometimes the same beings belong to several categories."
The ex-princess and Karrde exchanged skeptical looks.
"I would rather not discuss the past," Leia declared. "All I want is to rest."
"I thought you wanted to ask about your husband," Karrde suggested. "He and Admiral Arkh are in full autonomy, prowling the rear areas in search of elusive Dominion raiders."
Leia, capitulating, shook her head.
"Sometimes I forget what a misfortune it is to deal with you, Talon," she said. "Tell me you have information about him. And we'll consider it payment for the conversation with my subordinate in your presence."
"He's alive," Karrde smoothed his goatee. "I haven't heard that fortune has smiled on him, as he's on the trail of Captain Irvin. Admiral Arkh, as I've heard, is about to stamp out one of the enemy groups, the 'Yavin' star cruiser and its gang. Well, as for your husband... military fortune has not smiled on him yet. Which is why he's nervous."
"Before, I would have said that I would pray to the Force for him to succeed in what he planned," Leia unexpectedly opened up. "But now... I very much hope that he will be plagued by failures."
"I can't say I don't understand you," Karrde said with a sad smile, glancing at the approaching Bridger. "These are the kind of times when it's better to hunker down behind an insurmountable wall than to storm it."
"That sounds as if you're advising me to take up permanent residence in the Dominion," Leia said, narrowing her eyes.
"If I had citizenship in the state Thrawn built, I would," the Claw admitted. "But... word has it that an Imperial warlord decided to test the Dominion's Perimeter — and his own forehead — for durability. I'm eager to see which one proves harder."
"I'm sure you're not the only one," Leia replied.
* * *
"A beautiful detonation," Bravo-Three said with a hint of admiration, watching as the Kwenn station scattered into myriad small fragments, turning into a sphere of fire.
Baradium and rhydonium, detonated by the explosions of two hyperdrives with their stored energy — a mesmerizing sight.
One after another, two flashes tore the station to pieces, and streams of debris punctured the fuel tanks of the structure itself.
Pockets of fuel ignited, and everything that had once been an enemy battle droid assembly line — and a logistics hub for the New Republic — now exploded, burned, and detonated, crumbling to its foundations.
"They won't bother us anymore," Torin Inek summed up, glancing at the pair of unconscious Republic pilots tied up and lying in the corridor next to the cockpit.
The freighter, loaded with multiple identification credentials and intelligence on New Republic logistics, kept its distance.
Neither the explosion nor the brief but destructive shockwave had managed to demolish the structure so thoroughly.
But the fuel — yes, that had done the job.
"Set course for the base," Torin ordered, casting one last look at the burning wreck.
Just as expected, nothing here would ever serve the enemies of the Dominion — direct or indirect — again.
"Fully agreed," Rederick confirmed. "Fully..."
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