Alex stood in his laboratory on Tersik, contemplating reports on the colony's development. The numbers were encouraging—the population was growing, infrastructure was developing, but one problem was becoming increasingly acute.
"Verena, look at this data," he activated a holographic display with production statistics. "We are completely dependent on external droid supplies. And the Empire is tightening control over military equipment trade every month."
"Even the Hutts have become more cautious," Verena agreed. "The last batch of IG-88s cost three times more than usual."
"Exactly. And droids are the foundation of our economy. They work in mines, on construction sites, in agriculture. Without our own production, we are vulnerable." Alex ran his hand over the hologram. "We need our own factory. Urgently."
He looked thoughtfully at a sealed container in the corner of the laboratory—Dooku's archives, captured at the Count's secret base years ago.
"It's time to tackle these files seriously. If there's a solution to our problem anywhere, it's in the CIS military archives."
The following weeks Alex spent deciphering data from the Clone Wars era. Most files contained standard military information, but gradually he found more and more interesting materials.
Schematics of five massive ships drifting in interstellar space appeared in the air. The coordinates pointed to empty areas between systems—places where no one would ever look.
"Factory ships," Verena read from the screen. "Mobile production complexes. Status: 'Strategic Reserve Alpha'."
"Dooku was foresightful," Alex remarked. "He hid them where they could never be found without precise coordinates. I wonder how much more of this stuff is floating in the void? After thousands of years of wars and upheavals..."
"Will you look for other caches?"
"No, without coordinates it's useless. The galaxy is too big." He zoomed in on the image of one of the ships. "But these five will solve our droid production problem."
Alex activated his communicator and contacted Marek Torin, who led a group of Valori engineers. Alex decided to involve them in this matter specifically to engage them in a common cause.
"Marek, prepare a team for an expedition. Take the best specialists in droid technology. We've found something interesting."
"How many people?" Marek asked.
"Thirty engineers, plus security. And take all the equipment for field technology analysis."
A day later, the 'Void Witness'—Alex's new flagship—emerged from hyperspace at the indicated coordinates. In the cargo holds were a hundred IG-88 droids—they had performed well in their time. For now, that was all Alex had. The Empire had seriously tightened control over military droid trade, and even the Hutts had become more cautious.
"Targets detected," the navigator reported. "Five ships, minimal energy signatures."
Alex studied the scanner readings. The ships drifted in strict order, their characteristic ring design was easily recognizable.
"Life support systems are off, but reactors are in standby mode," the navigator continued. "Droid signatures are present."
"Let's start with the nearest one," Alex decided. "Standard procedure. Droids first, engineers under cover."
The ship cautiously approached the first factory. The docking ports responded to Dooku's access codes—the ancient CIS protocols still worked.
The IG-88 squad was the first to storm the airlock. The corridors of the factory ship were huge, designed for transporting large equipment. Dim emergency lighting created a oppressive atmosphere.
"Contact!" the lead droid reported. "Security droids, standard B1."
The familiar figures of Separatist droids emerged from the niches.
"Access restricted! Present identification!" one of them demanded.
Alex activated the transmitter with Dooku's access codes.
The droids froze, processing the information.
"Codes confirmed. Welcome to the 'Nemesis-5' production complex."
The group moved deeper into the ship. Doctor Marek from Valorin and his team were studying the technical systems with admiration.
"This isn't just a factory," he said, examining the production lines. "It's a complex for deploying a full-scale industrial base. All equipment is modular, can be dismantled and installed on a planet. If the CIS had given us such a factory, we would have driven the Republic off the planet."
Alex nodded. Though he understood there was no chance of that. Considering who was orchestrating the war.
In the central reactor compartment, an impressive sight awaited them. The fusion reactor was operating autonomously, providing power to all ship systems.
"There's enough fuel for a hundred years of autonomous operation," reported the team's chief engineer.
"We need to learn to produce this fuel ourselves," Alex noted. "And repair such installations, and build new ones. But that's a matter for the future."
They inspected all five ships. Each contained an identical set of equipment—production lines, component storage, worker droids. Ready-made complexes for creating an industrial base.
"One ship will cover all our needs for now," Alex said, studying the inventory lists. "The rest... will be in reserve."
The decision on transportation was made quickly. One of the factory ships was to be sent to Tersik.
"Where do we place it?" Verena asked.
"On the industrial side of the planet," Alex replied without hesitation. "Where the ecology is already ruined by old developments."
He activated the map of Tersik.
The transportation operation took a week. The massive factory ship slowly descended onto the surface of Tersik, its enormous shadow covering several square kilometers of the industrial zone.
"The Force..." whispered one of the colonists watching the landing. "That's a whole city!"
Alex stood on the observation deck of the spaceport, watching the process. The factory ship was indeed the size of a small city—three kilometers long, half a kilometer high.
"Tersik doesn't need such capacity yet," he told Doctor Marek. "But we'll need the expansion potential soon."
In the following days, the factory's capabilities began to be studied. The production lines could produce everything—from simple tools to complex computer systems. Except for one, but the most important element—computational crystals. The ship had a stock of ten million of them.
"This is a survival base," Alex explained at a colonists' meeting. "If galactic trade ceases, we must be prepared to provide ourselves with everything necessary."
One of the Valorin engineers raised his hand: "What if the rebels win? All these preparations will be unnecessary?"
"Then we'll be glad," Alex replied. "But we must prepare for the worst-case scenario."
He looked out the window at the operating factory, at the droids restoring the dead land.
"Tersik's main advantage is that no one is interested in it. An abandoned mining world with difficult navigation. The perfect place to hide from the chaos that is coming."
"And if the elite's plan begins to be implemented?"
"Then I'll take control of a few more planets in the sector. I'll cut off the beacons around them—" Alex grinned. "Let this sector be considered lost to civilization."
He didn't want to just survive the coming chaos on dying worlds. He wanted to be surrounded by inspired people who had a future. If the rebels couldn't defeat the Empire—and that seemed the most likely outcome—then a place for a peaceful life was needed.
The factory continued to operate, its droids methodically restoring the industrial zone. It wasn't a technological revolution—just a survival base in a world where galactic civilization could collapse at any moment.
"Computational crystals," Alex pointed to the relevant line. "The inventory lists 'extensive reserves for production needs,' but there's not a word about crystal production itself."
This was a disaster. The factory ships contained everything needed to create droids—from metal smelting to final assembly. But without "brains," the droids would turn into a pile of expensive scrap metal. When the reserves ran out, the factory would stop.
"And what are computational crystals?" Verena asked.
Alex leaned back in his chair, remembering his childhood.
"They are the brain of any droid. Crystal processors that provide computational capabilities and store programs. I noticed something strange back in my childhood, working in my Uncle Garrek's workshop."
He activated a search program and began displaying images of various droids on the screen.
"All droids in the galaxy, regardless of manufacturer, use the same processors. The largest droid manufacturers—Kibot Galactica, Industrial Automaton, Arakyd Industries, Merr-Sonn—all have crystals with the same basic architecture. Only the marking and minor modifications differ."
"So, there's one common supplier?"
"Exactly. And I know who it is."
Alex activated the galactic corporation database and brought up information about the company "Silk Hydra Systems."
"A monopolist," he said. "For millennia, they have controlled the production of computational crystals. Their processors are in all droids and computers in the galaxy. All other companies are just assemblers of finished devices from standard components. 'Kibot Galactica' can assemble a droid's chassis, install manipulators, sensors, but they buy the brain from 'Silk Hydra.'"
But then Alex paused, considering a logical contradiction.
"Wait," he said slowly. "If 'Silk Hydra Systems' is a monopolist, how did the CIS produce millions of droids during the war? Didn't anyone in the Republic government think to cut off the separatists' crystal supplies?"
This question bothered him. Alex activated a secure communicator and contacted "Golden-1"—his most valuable agent in the Coruscant government circles.
"I need information from the Senate archives," he said after establishing a secure connection. "The Clone Wars period, about 22-19 years ago. Look for any mention of requests to block supplies of CIS technology, especially computational components."
"This may take time," the agent warned. "Archives from that period are partially classified."
"We have time. But the information is critically important."
While the agent worked with the archives, Alex continued analyzing the problem. He studied the structure of the droid manufacturing market, financial flows, patent documentation. The picture was becoming increasingly intriguing.
Silk Hydra Systems was indeed an absolute monopolist. Their patents covered all aspects of crystal processor production. Any attempts by competitors to create alternatives ended in their bankruptcy. Nothing even remotely achieved the efficiency demonstrated by Silk Hydra's crystals.
"How did they achieve such a position?" Alex mused aloud. "Monopolies usually rely on control of resources or unique technologies."
He delved into the company's history. Silk Hydra Systems was founded over four thousand years ago, during the heyday of the Old Republic. From the very beginning, they specialized in "highly complex crystalline computing systems."
"Four thousand years," Alex muttered. "That's a very long time for a technology company."
The response from "Golden-1" came two days later.
"Information found," the agent reported. "Such requests did exist. A whole series of parliamentary hearings during the war. Senators demanded explanations on how the separatists were obtaining components for their droids."
"And what did 'Silk Hydra Systems' reply?"
"They provided detailed documentation proving that no supplies were made to the CIS. Moreover, the company claimed significant losses due to the loss of markets in systems controlled by separatists."
"Was there an investigation?"
"Yes, a very thorough one. A Senate commission studied all financial flows, production plans, logistics chains. Nothing suspicious was found."
Alex disconnected and thought deeply. Something here absolutely didn't add up. The CIS produced millions of droids, but officially didn't receive key components for them. How was this possible?
He returned to Dooku's archives, hoping to find any mention of processor production. But there was nothing. All technical documents pointed to Geonosis as the source of droid technology.
"Maybe we should fly there?" Verena suggested, studying maps of the Geonosis system.
"No," Alex shook his head decisively. "My agents report that the system is under tight Imperial blockade, with military ships constantly patrolling. Going there now would be suicidal."
He activated the Rakata database, compiled over years of expeditions to the ruins of the Infinite Empire. Perhaps there would be mentions of computational system production?
The search yielded a few results, but they were all useless. Either stations looted by Revan thousands of years ago, or some vague mentions of complexes on Coruscant and Geonosis...
Alex activated the historical database and began studying the development of droid manufacturing in the galaxy. An interesting pattern immediately caught his eye.
"Look," he showed Verena a technological development graph. "Before the Revan era, droids were primitive. Simple work machines with basic programs. And after the Mandalorian Wars, complex models suddenly appeared with advanced artificial intelligence."
"Connection to Revan?"
"Almost certainly. He explored the Rakata ruins, found their technologies. It's logical to assume that among the findings were production complexes for computational systems."
"And then this technology ended up on Coruscant?"
"Most likely. Revan was a hero of the Republic, his discoveries were surely studied and implemented. Perhaps this is how Silk Hydra originated—based on captured Rakata technologies."
This theory explained a lot. Silk Hydra's monopoly, the inability to create competing technologies, the company's longevity over millennia.
But for now, these were just assumptions. Facts were needed, proof, and most importantly—access to the technologies themselves.
Suddenly, Alex remembered his trading operations. One of his shell companies was involved in mining and transporting rare earth minerals from K'Varon—a small planet in his sector. And the buyer of these minerals was...
"Silk Hydra Systems," he whispered, activating the trade documents.
"What?" Verena didn't understand.
"My company has been selling rare earth elements to Silk Hydra for many years. The sales went to Coruscant. I didn't even pay attention to it—just a normal commercial operation."
He studied the contract details. Silk Hydra ordered very specific minerals—rare isotopes used in high-tech manufacturing.
"Interesting," Alex grinned. "Very interesting."
He made a decision. A hyper-beacon would be installed on the next cargo shipment—a miniature tracking device that would allow them to trace the transport's route.
The operation was carried out a week later. The transport ship with minerals departed on its usual route to Coruscant, but at a certain point, it unexpectedly turned aside.
"Coordinates are being recorded," reported the tracking operator. "The ship is heading into the Unknown Regions."
Alex studied the data from the beacon. The transport was not heading to Coruscant, but to a system that was not on any official map.
"Secret production," he stated. "Silk Hydra's real production is hidden somewhere in the depths of the Unknown Regions."
But venturing there directly was too dangerous. It was unknown what kind of security, what defense systems were there. They had to wait for the right opportunity.
"What are we going to do?" Verena asked.
"Nothing for now," Alex replied. "We'll wait. Sooner or later, there will be a chance to learn more about their technologies."
He returned to the plans for reconfiguring the CIS factory ships. Even without their own computational crystal production, these ships could solve many of the colony's problems. And the processor issue could be resolved later.
For now, it was the best solution possible. The CIS factory ships would give Tersik an industrial base for survival in the coming chaos. And the mystery of Silk Hydra would wait for a more opportune moment.
Alex sat in his office on Tersik. A week had passed since the secret route of his mineral cargo was discovered, and now he was methodically gathering all available information about the mysterious monopolist company.
"'Golden-1' on the line," a voice came from the secure communicator.
"Listening," Alex replied, not looking up from studying the financial reports.
"Received the requested materials on the parliamentary hearings. Sending full records of the Senate commission's meetings investigating CIS technology supplies."
A few minutes later, transcripts of the meetings held twenty-one years ago appeared on the screen. Alex delved into the testimony of the corporation's representatives before the senators.
"Senator Amidala: 'How do you explain the fact that the Separatist armies are using droids with processors of your production?'" he read aloud.
"Director Velius Taine: 'Honorable Senator, we categorically deny any supplies of our products to the Confederacy of Independent Systems. All our processors have unique serial numbers and copy protection systems.'"
Alex frowned, continuing to read.
"Senator Organa: 'Then where do the CIS droids get processors with an architecture identical to your products?'"
"Director Taine: 'These are crude fakes, Senator. Our experts have studied captured samples. The Separatist crystals imitate the appearance of our processors, but the internal structure is completely different. The quality is significantly lower, the performance is several times less.'"
"A lie," Alex muttered. "An outright lie."
He activated the combat archives from the Clone Wars. The CIS droids showed quite decent effectiveness, especially in the later years of the war. If they had used primitive fakes, their combat value would have been minimal.
"Verena," he called, "look at this data."
She approached the screen and studied the transcripts.
"They are lying," she stated. "But very professionally. Look how skillfully they shift the conversation to technical details that the senators don't understand."
Alex continued reading. The corporation's representatives provided detailed documentation on their production capacities, financial flows, and supplies. Everything looked impeccable.
"Director Taine: 'Our company suffered significant losses due to the war. We lost markets in thirty thousand systems controlled by separatists. Our factories on Ryloth and Rylos were captured and destroyed.'"
"Senator Mas Amedda: 'Provide financial documents confirming these losses.'"
"Director Taine: 'Of course, Senator. Here are the detailed reports from our auditors...'"
Alex studied the attached documents. Everything looked convincing—falling revenues, factory closures, staff layoffs. A perfect picture of a company suffering from the war.
"Too perfect," he remarked. "Real losses never look so neat in documents."
He activated an analytical program and began comparing Silk Hydra's data with general wartime economic statistics. Discrepancies gradually emerged.
"Look," he showed Verena a graph. "The company claims a forty percent drop in production. But electricity consumption at their factories increased by twenty percent during the same period."
"So, they were producing something?"
"Obviously. But what exactly is the big question."
Alex delved into the technical aspects. According to Silk Hydra's experts, the processors in the CIS droids were primitive fakes. But the analysis of captured samples showed a different picture.
"Republic Intelligence report," he read. " 'Study of processors from B1 droids revealed high quality crystalline structures. The command architecture is identical to standard H-7 series products.'"
"Then why did the company's experts claim otherwise?"
"Because they were lying," Alex replied. "The only question is how they got away with it."
He found the answer in the examination protocols. The examination was conducted by a private company. One of the founders of Silk Hydra was a founder of that company. The private company analyzed "typical samples" of processors from CIS droids. It was these samples that turned out to be primitive fakes.
"A pocket examination," Alex realized. "And they analyzed fake samples, while no one analyzed the real processors from combat droids."
"But how did they get access to the physical evidence?"
"A large corporation has connections everywhere. Bribing an official who appoints an examination for an investigation, replacing samples in a laboratory—it's all in a day's work for them."
Alex continued studying the investigation materials. The Senate commission worked for three months, interviewed dozens of witnesses, examined thousands of documents. But in the end, it concluded that the accusations against the corporation were unfounded.
"The commission was led by Chancellor Palpatine himself, who took the case under special control: 'After a thorough investigation, the commission found no evidence of the corporation's cooperation with the separatists. The accusations are based on misunderstandings and technical errors.'"
"Palpatine," Alex whispered. "Of course, who else."
Everything was falling into place. The future emperor personally led the investigation and personally closed it. Silk Hydra was part of the conspiracy from the very beginning.
Alex turned off the holograms and looked thoughtfully out the window. The picture was becoming clearer, but also more frightening. The corporation wasn't just supplying processors to the CIS—they were active participants in the Clone Wars spectacle.
"We need more information," he decided. "Especially about their real production capacities."
He activated the Rakata database, hoping to find any mention of ancient computational technologies. The search yielded a few interesting results.
"'Crystalline consciousness matrices'," he read the descriptions of Rakata technologies. "'Neural computing systems based on digitizing biological neural structures.'"
Most mentions concerned stations long looted or destroyed. But one of the coordinates coincided with the coordinates of that very station in the Unknown Regions.
Alex froze.
"This can't be a coincidence," he muttered.
He delved into the history of droid manufacturing, comparing dates and events. The picture was becoming increasingly obvious.
"Look at the chronology," he showed Verena a timeline. "Before the Mandalorian Wars, droids were primitive."
"And after?"
"After Revan's expeditions, complex models suddenly appeared. Protocol droids with advanced AI, astromechs capable of independent thought, combat droids with tactical algorithms."
Alex activated a map of archaeological finds from Revan's era.
"Revan explored dozens of Rakata worlds, found their technologies, artifacts. Among them were surely production complexes for computational systems."
"And this technology fell into the Republic's hands?"
"It's logical to assume."
This hypothesis explained a lot. The inability to create competing technologies—no one understood the principles of Rakata systems. The monopoly—they had access to unique knowledge. The company's longevity over millennia—ancient technologies didn't become obsolete.
"But this is still just a hypothesis," Verena noted. "Proof is needed."
"Agreed. And I know where to look."
"The real production is hidden somewhere in the depths of unexplored space," he said. "Where they can use ancient technologies without unnecessary questions."
He activated the tracking data. The transport with minerals had reached its destination—a system not on any official map. The beacon's signal coincided with the coordinates.
"A perfect place for secret production," he remarked. "Far from trade routes, hidden from accidental observers."
"What are we going to do? Attack?"
"No," Alex shook his head. "Too risky."
The opportunity presented itself unexpectedly quickly. A few days later, one of Alex's agents transmitted intriguing information.
"Boss," he reported, "our people near Geonosis are reporting strange activity. The Empire is transporting some equipment from the planet."
"What kind?"
"Unknown. The operation is classified. But our man at the spaceport saw very strange containers being loaded."
"Where is the transport heading?"
"Unknown yet. But we can try to track it."
"Do it. And keep me informed of all movements."
A day later, new data came in.
"Imperial destroyer 'Devastator' left the Geonosis system with a cargo convoy," the agent reported. "Direction—Unknown Regions."
Alex's agents began tracking the movement of the Imperial ships. At a certain point, a cargo transport detached from the destroyer and headed precisely towards the coordinates of Silk Hydra's secret station.
But the most interesting part was yet to come. Analysis of the route showed that the cargo transport would pass through several systems where an interception could be organized.
"This is our chance," he told Verena. "An opportunity to obtain Rakata technologies without storming the secret station."
"Risks?"
"High. It's an Imperial transport, possibly with escort. But the alternative is years of searching and uncertainty."
Alex made a decision. The interception operation would be conducted in the most covert manner possible. No witnesses, no traces.
"Prepare the boarding ship," he ordered. "Full combat readiness. Take all IG-88 droids and as many captured CIS droids as possible."
"How many CIS droids do we have?" Verena asked.
"About three thousand various models. Trophies from ships. Not the most modern, but they'll do for boarding."
He studied the Imperial transport's route, choosing the optimal point for interception. It needed to be a place far from trade routes, where the operation would not attract attention.
"Kelron system," he finally decided. "A dead system with a white dwarf. The perfect place for an ambush."
The preparations took two days. The boarding ship was equipped with additional boarding modules, communication jamming systems, and tractor beams. The cargo holds housed a hundred IG-88 droids and three thousand CIS droids of various modifications.
"The crew is ready," the captain reported. "All systems checked."
"Then let's go," Alex ordered. "Time waits for no one."
The ship jumped into hyperspace, heading for the interception point. Ahead lay an operation that could provide answers to all questions about the corporation's secrets and Rakatan technologies.
Or end in complete failure.
"I hope we know what we're doing," Alex muttered, studying the operation plan.
"And if we don't?" Verena asked.
"Then we'll run," he replied with a grim smile. "As always."
The stars outside the viewport turned into streaks of light, carrying the ship towards an encounter with the unknown. Somewhere ahead, an Imperial transport was flying with a cargo that could change the entire understanding of galactic technologies.
All that remained was to capture it.
Alex's ship materialized from hyperspace at the very edge of the Kelron system, like a ghost emerging from nothingness. The dead world slowly revolved around its dying star – a white dwarf whose cold light barely illuminated the cosmic void. Here, in this godforsaken system, only silence and death reigned.
On the bridge, the air was thick with tension. Alex stood by the main screen, his silhouette clearly outlined against the flickering scanner data. The star map showed their position – the perfect ambush point.
"Positions occupied," the navigator's voice cut through the silence like a blade. "The Imperial convoy will appear in thirty minutes."
Alex nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the screen.
"Activate cloaking. Full combat readiness."
The ship seemed to dissolve into the cosmic darkness. The cloaking systems distorted its contours, making it invisible to Imperial scanners. Nearby, in the cold void, drifted his allies – two corvettes, armed to the teeth and ready for battle.
"Are the boarding teams ready?" Alex asked, his voice carrying steel undertones.
"Droids are in full combat readiness," the boarding group commander said clearly and confidently. "All systems checked twice."
Time dragged on agonizingly slowly. A oppressive silence reigned on the bridge, broken only by the quiet hum of life support systems. Every crew member understood – the fate of the operation was being decided now.
Suddenly, space shuddered. Reality distorted, like torn fabric, and three ships emerged from hyperspace. An Imperial transport, clumsy and heavy, escorted by two predatory corvettes.
"Targets detected," the scanner operator whispered. "Transport class 'Gozanti', two corvettes class 'Raider'. Corvette crews are droids."
Alex slowly raised his hand. A dead silence fell on the bridge. Time stopped.
"Attack."
The cosmos exploded with fire. The cloaked ships opened fire simultaneously, their turbolasers tracing deadly red lines in the darkness. The escort corvettes didn't even have time to understand what was happening – their hulls disintegrated, turning into clouds of molten metal.
"Corvettes destroyed," the gunner couldn't hide the satisfaction in his voice. "The transport is trying to turn."
"Tractor beams!"
Invisible tendrils of energy enveloped the Imperial ship. Precise shots turned its engines into a pile of useless metal. The transport drifted helplessly in the void, like a wounded beast.
"They're opening fire!"
The transport's weak laser bursts were lost in the cosmic darkness, causing no harm. It was the agony of a dying creature.
"Do not return fire," Alex's voice was as cold as ice. "We need the cargo intact."
The Imperial transport was pulled towards the docking node with a metallic screech. Boarding modules dug into its hull like parasites. Cutting lasers began to burn through the plating, leaving glowing edges.
"Boarding!"
Droids poured through the breaches like a steel torrent of death. IG-88s led the way, their red sensors piercing the darkness of the corridors. Behind them followed battalions of CIS droids, ready to sweep away any resistance.
But what met them surpassed all expectations.
"Contact with unknowns!" the voice of the leading IG-88 sounded strained. "These are not Imperial stormtroopers!"
Something terrifying appeared on the monitors – thirty droids of an unknown model. Black, angular machines with burning red sensors moved with inhuman grace. Their design was alien, as if created in nightmares.
"Architecture unidentified! High combat efficiency! Weapon systems of unknown type!"
The battle turned into a meat grinder. The black droids moved like ghosts of death, their energy projectors piercing armor through and through with a single shot. The transport's corridors turned into hell of sparks and molten metal.
"B1 battalion is suffering catastrophic losses!" the commander barely suppressed his panic. "The enemy is adapting to our tactics in real time!"
"Use numerical superiority!" Alex clenched his fists. "Attack from all sides simultaneously!"
The tactic worked, but the cost was horrific. Thirty unknown droids turned two and a half thousand CIS droids into scrap metal before they were finally destroyed. The transport's corridors were littered with debris.
"Last enemy destroyed," said the leading IG-88. "The path to the cargo bay is clear."
"Losses?"
"Fifteen IG-88 droids disabled. CIS droids... two hundred units of various modifications remain."
Alex quickly boarded the Imperial transport, his steps echoing in the devastated corridors. The smell of molten metal and ozone hung in the air. In the cargo bay, an astonishing sight awaited him.
Dozens of containers held technologies that clearly did not belong to the Empire. Crystalline structures pulsed with a faint light, mechanisms with organic curves seemed alive, devices of Rakatan origin radiated ancient power.
"Here is the cargo we need," Alex whispered, examining his findings.
The largest container held a production line for growing computational crystals – precisely what the entire operation was for.
But in the corner of the cargo bay, as if forgotten, sat bound crew members. Twelve Imperial officers and technicians looked at him with horror and despair in their eyes.
"What should we do with them, Master?" the IG-88 asked in a mechanical voice.
Alex slowly approached the prisoners, studying their faces. Most remained silent, but one officer – a lieutenant by his insignia – raised his head and met his gaze defiantly.
"Do you even realize what you've done?" the lieutenant shouted, his voice trembling with rage. "This is a transport of the Imperial Security Bureau! They will find you and destroy you! Along with your pathetic little worlds!"
Alex listened carefully to the tirade, his expression unchanged.
"Admiral Ozzel will personally lead the punitive operation!" the lieutenant continued. "You think we won't find out where you're from? Your base will burn to the ground!"
Alex patiently waited for the officer to run out of breath, then shrugged with an almost indifferent expression.
"Execute them," he said calmly.
The IG-88 reacted instantly. Its blasters slid out of their holsters with mechanical precision, and within seconds, it was over. Twelve precise shots – twelve lives.
"What a swift model the IG is," Alex remarked, looking at the smoking barrels.
"Efficiency is the basis of survival," the droid replied with undisguised pride in its synthesized voice. "The IG-88 model surpasses all analogues in reaction speed and target accuracy."
Alex nodded and turned away from the bodies. While the droids carried out the order, he activated the scanners and began checking the cargo, trying to distract himself from what was happening behind him.
"Check everything for tracking devices," he ordered the technicians. "Very carefully."
The check took a painfully long hour. The result was predictable.
"Thirty beacons of various types detected," the chief technician reported. "Some are very cleverly disguised."
"Destroy them all. And check again."
When the cargo was finally cleared of tracking devices, the offloading began. The droid wreckage remained in the transport along with the crew's bodies – silent witnesses to the tragedy that had occurred.
"What should we do with the ship, Master Alex?" the droid commander asked.
"How many light-minutes away is the nearest planetoid?" Alex asked, stepping away from the console.
"Five minutes, sir. A useless piece of rock," the navigator reported.
"Good, send the ship into a jump to that planet."
The technicians quickly entered commands into the Imperial ship via remote control, and after some time, it disappeared.
A few seconds later, the scanner operator's head snapped up:
"Sir! A powerful impulse approaching the planetoid! Energy signature... It's an emergency hyperdrive ejection!"
On the screen, far from the gray sphere of the planet, a single, furious little star flashed and died for a second – the last breath of a ship that no longer existed.
Alex silently watched the signal disappear into the noise. Then he slowly turned to the crew.
"That's it. The automation worked," he said quietly. "Safety protocol. The hyperdrive self-destructed when threatened with exiting into real space within a gravity well." He paused, letting the words sink in for everyone. "And thank the Force for that. Otherwise, half the inhabited planets in the galaxy would be reduced to dust and memories. The creators of hyperdrives foresaw such an outcome. I always wanted to test it."
Everyone understood what had happened to the transport.
On the way back, Verena entered his cabin. She was silent for a long time, looking out the viewport at the passing stars.
"Could you have left them?" she finally asked, and there was no condemnation in her voice – only weariness.
Alex sat at the table, staring into an empty caf cup.
"Why? So they could tell the ISB about us? Or cause trouble on Tersik? No. I don't leave enemies behind," he replied. "Any of them could have been a death sentence for all of us."
Verena nodded slowly, still not turning to him.
"I understand."
Alex looked up at her.
"I don't like it either. But this isn't the first time, and I'm sure it won't be the last time I have to make such a decision."
"I know," she sighed quietly, finally turning.
He walked up to her and hugged her from behind.
"Darling, don't pity them. These guys were on a genocide mission. They were some of the worst beings in the galaxy. Each of them would have killed not only us but everyone we know without a second thought."
A day later, the ship returned to Tersik. The captured equipment was secretly transported to underground bunkers hidden deep beneath the planet's surface. A team of Valorian engineers studied the ancient Rakatan technologies with reverence.
"This is a system for growing organic crystals," the lead engineer reported, his voice trembling with excitement. "Each crystal will be unique, like a living thing. But it will take time to fully master the process."
"Do everything necessary," Alex replied. "Resources are unlimited."
Now he had all the components for a complete droid production cycle.
That night, Alex stood on the balcony of his residence, gazing at the starry sky. Somewhere out there, in the cold void, the white dwarf held the secret of their operation. Twelve lives for the future of the colony.
But there was no choice. There never was.
A light breeze rustled the leaves of the Tersik trees. The planet lived, breathed, prospered. Tens of thousands of colonists slept peacefully, unaware of the price of this peace.
Peace requires sacrifice.