Chapter 14 — Jesuit tricks

Have a pleasant reading)

Recently I caught myself thinking that I absolutely love being alone. You sit like this, no one is yelling in your ear, no one is «straining» you with the eternal «Victor! The homeland is in danger!»

You can slowly sort out what has already happened or what is to come, reading intelligence reports, for example.

And no one will see how much my emotions differ from the reaction of the «true Thrawn». Although, the history known to me, without a doubt, is silent about exactly how the legendary grand admiral in a galaxy far, far away behaved when he remained —out of frame.

But now I wanted to get really drunk. So strong that even a wolf howls.

It's good that no one but me can read the reports from Delta Source . Otherwise, questions would definitely arise —why am I not actually doing anything?

Because in the banal heap of routine, I missed the message that a battle group was sent from Coruscant to Bothan Space. Six Mark II-class assault frigates and an Imperial-class Star Destroyer. "two" by the way. Once called «Avarice».

The same ship that played a significant role in the capture of Thyferra by the New Republic. And he was still under the command of the former Imperial captain Sair Yonka, who, along with his entire crew, had transferred to the service of the rebels. Considering that there weren't many routes leading from Coruscant to Bothawui, the capital planet of the Bothan sector, intercepting them would not have been difficult. And it would be easy to deal with six assault frigates and capture one Star Destroyer with the forces of an entire fleet.

However, I made a mistake —I sent a considerable part of my fleet across Imperial Space. Although... even if I had attacked this battle group with the forces of damaged ships, there was a chance to recapture the «Avarice». Here you don't even need to be Thrawn —the banal advantage in the number of guns. Yes, plus a interdictor cruiser...

In a word an extremely annoying missed moment. A Star Destroyer could have become part of the fleet quite easily and simply... Yes, my ships would have suffered significant damage and would have taken even longer to recover on Tangrene, but we would have had another fucking Star Destroyer!

Oh, sith hit me over the head with something heavy, I just had to fabulously fuc...

The comlink that came to life on the cabin table tore me away from self-flagellation.

Exhaling and taking a deep breath, I tried to get rid of the negativity. Well, you can't undo what's been done. Even if I try to intercept the entire fleet right now, there is simply no chance of interception. At best, we'll burn fuel and waste precious time.

And this will be a lesson to me for the future —I need to read intelligence data in time, and not hope that after the commotion I caused in the Dafilvean sector, the future will continue to develop according to the well-worn plot!

—I'm listening,— I said into the communication device as calmly as possible.

—Our new master,— Rukh's voice came from the speaker. —Mister Ferrier to see you.

But exactly. I ordered not to let the hijacker go without talking to me.

—Come in,— I ordered, turning off the galaxy hologram and activating the projections of art objects instead. Not that I understood anything about them, but from time to time I remembered that it would be nice to live up to the image of the «true Thrawn».

The twilight reigning in the apartment was dissipated for a few moments by a strip of artificial light breaking through the front door.

The thief, nervously slobbering on his disgusting-smelling cigar, stood hesitantly a few meters in front of me, looking around with curiosity at the collection.

—Have you received payment for the ship, Mr. Ferrier? —I asked.

—Yes, Grand Admiral,— the puffy man winced as if all his teeth, without exception, suddenly ached. — I can't say that I'm happy with this million credits....

I can't say that I like spending money, of which I already have a small supply (and after buying ships from Yazuo Vayne, even less, much less!), but I have to. Without acquiring starships, I will have absolutely no success in expanding my own fleet.

And I really like that the forces subordinate to me increase exponentially. Even if for now these are just light ships and escort ships, they are still combat starships that might not exist.

—Your grumbling interests me even less than your bad manners, Mr. Ferrier,— I answered, realizing that the hijacker did not intend to complete his thought. —You are here because you have a business proposal.

— Beyond hijacking ships? — Sniff's eyes sparkled with greedy fire. — Does this mean big profits?

—Significantly higher than what you get from ship hijacking,— I noted. —However, you shouldn't stop supplying Corellian starships to my fleet.

—It's better for me to stay low for a while,— said the hijacker. —It's not idiots who work at the Corellian Engineering Company shipyards. Three hijacked starships in a short period of time is a clear indicator of a breach in security systems.

—I'm not interested in the problems of your craft, Mr. Ferrier,— as they say: a man shouldn't complain about three things: his wife, his job and his car—he chose it himself. Yes, of course, from this folk wisdom there will always be special cases of exceptions, however... However... There is no time for them now. — I need your services in another direction.

—If it's in my power, any whim for your money,— the hijacker smiled.

—Well, let's see how competent you are a small challenge to professional pride. Let's see how he reacts to my next words and actions.

Having removed the holograms of art objects, he projected another three-dimensional copy.

— Are you familiar with this piece of technology? —I asked.

—Well... Ferrier hesitated. —I've heard about them. Separatist buzz droids. Saboteurs used by the Confederacy of Independent Systems to damage or destroy Republic fighters and bombers.

—Well, at least you have a minimum amount of theoretical knowledge,— I sighed. —I need a batch of these droids.

The hijacker looked at me with a completely surprised look.

—Uh... why? It's old stuff... he said somehow hesitantly. But, having encountered my unyielding gaze, he hesitated, looking at his feet. — They can be bought on any black market and...

Somehow suspiciously, he averts his eyes to the side. Like a naughty puppy. If I remember at least something from a university psychology course, then such behavior may indicate fear of the interlocutor, uncertainty, and a desire for «closedness». Of course, no specialist would state something like that on the basis of scanty knowledge of psychology, and even without the rest of the «symptoms» that could either confirm or refute my point of view, I simply did not remember.

Well, let's start from small things and take advantage of Ferrier's weak character in relation to those who take a more authoritarian position in relation to his personality.

—I need these droids,— I said firmly. at least two copies. In fully working order.

—Yes, this is practically impossible,— "Sniff" sighed. — These models, like other variants of saboteur droids, are prohibited from production and sale, how even? Did not know. —If I'm caught with them, I'll be sentenced to life in Kessel! The Empire at one time almost completely killed off the traders of separatist —toys—, so the easiest way for you to contact...

—Stop playing the comedy, Ferrier,— I demanded. —You know very well where you can find working samples, but for some reason you are trying to lead me by the nose. And I really don't like this. You still haven't been thrown into the lock for your disgusting behavior only because you supply us with first-class ships in good technical condition,— Rukh, hearing about the opportunity to deal with someone, put his hand on his knife. —I offer you a choice —either you will be frank with me, or your life, like the existence of your crew, will end today.

"Sniff" clearly panicked by the last words, darted his eyes around the apartment, as if looking for support.

—I'm waiting,— I had to remind him. and I don't have patience.

—The market for droid saboteurs has been under Booster Terrik for six months now,— he finally said, looking at me ingratiatingly. —If you're talking about serviceable droids, then you'll have to contact him personally. All other merchants in the galaxy, well, except perhaps a few reasonable ones, sell stale goods that are not suitable for use.

— And what's the problem with getting droids for me from Mr. Terrik? —I don't see a problem yet.

—I'm with him... the hijacker hesitated, —not on the best terms. He will quickly finish me off as soon as he sees that I am in his sight.

—Frankness, Ferrier,— I reminded. — You are already considered a scumbag and a traitor even among —your own people. The opinion of one smuggler does not decide anything.

—Oh,— "Sniff" grinned, —you don't know what you're talking about. Terrik, if he wants, will ruin everyone's life. Because of disagreements with him, I now cannot work properly —they don't trust me and try to ignore me at every step. Even among smugglers and car thieves. Hutt's professional solidarity! On the one hand, Booster has spoiled all prospects, on the other, Karrde and his gang are putting the squeeze on! If only I had been in less cramped conditions, I would have already turned around to the fullest, earned myself a hundred or two million, and sipped cocktails somewhere on the beach!

Interesting. And how, I wonder, was it that a simple hijacker managed to hook both bigwigs of the smuggling and information industry at once?

Actually, without embellishment or reverence, I inquired about a similar reason.

— A couple of years ago, when everyone thought that Booster died on Kessel during another —walk,— I worked with his daughter, Mirax,— said "Sniff". —She wasn't yet married to Rogue Squadron's Horn. On the contrary, she wanted with all her might to get away from him. I helped her in this because I had old scores to settle with Horn —he crossed my path more than once when he worked at CorSec. And as a result, Terrik Sr. was extremely dissatisfied with the fact that I communicated with his daughter. He was even less pissed off about Horn than I was.

—You intended to enlist the trust of his daughter for your craft,— I realized. —Take advantage of her authority to improve your affairs. That's why Booster Terrik intends to get even with you. Although, I'm more inclined to think that you offered Miss Terrik something that made her father proud.

—Yeah,— "Sniff" scratched the back of his head. Clearly unhappy that he was caught lying. —I can't hide anything from you...

—I don't need your flattery, Ferrier,— I remarked. —Only frankness. What is the reason why Booster Terrik hates you?

— After the defeat of the Empire at Endor, confusion began,— muttered the hijacker. — Several of my contracts did not work out. I decided to improve my business by transporting contraband. I asked Karrde to help with orders. He gave them to me. But as it turned out, transporting goods for one group interfered with the interests of another —I had to give up the cargo to save my life. Karrde gave me a penalty. I paid it off with a few thefts, but there were still debts. The Outer Rim is always short on slaves, so I bought a couple hundred. In order to profitably accommodate them, I turned to Mirax Terrik. But Booster's spawn not only didn't help me find buyers for the goods, but also "handed me over" to the planetary governments. I had to leave the slaves and run away. The debt has become even greater. There is a bounty on my head in a number of sectors, and until I repay the debt, they will continue to hunt me. It's good that those who hired me to transport slaves are stingy enough to turn to more or less professional bounty hunters. But, anyway, when Booster returned from Kessel a few years ago, he apparently heard rumors about my «partnership» with his daughter. Terrik was seriously infuriated. What a white hand trader! Trade disintegrators, killer droids, saboteur droids and other separatist rubbish, transporting smuggled cargo holds full of a star destroyer, that's easy for him, but transporting slaves is something out of the ordinary!

—What is your current debt? —I asked. Not that I was really interested, but something about his story didn't add up. This man receives good money for working for the Empire and could have paid off his debts long ago, but no, he claims that he is not able to. All that remains is to understand where exactly he is lying. Although, given the unflattering reputation about his person, it is better to ask: «Where exactly did he tell the truth?»

—Twenty-seven million credits in imperial currency,— he said reluctantly. —This is taking into account the money that I have already earned from your orders.

So. Something tells me that either the party of slaves was very large, or "Sniff" is deliberately distorting the facts in its favor. Because such a gigantic sum cannot be generated for the transportation of even a small group of "contracted workers" as slaves are officially called in most regions of the galaxy.

But now it's worth thinking about: does it make much sense to continue a business relationship with this person? He clearly has a target painted on his back. And if the story about transporting slaves is even partly true, it's no wonder that he is a renegade in the eyes of the criminal community. Cooperation with him could have a disastrous effect on my own prestige. The Empire already doesn't like criminals, let alone slave traders...

And yet, something useful can be extracted from his words...

—So I understand that Karrde is pushing you out of the smuggling business at the expense of solidarity with Mr. Terrik? —I clarified. "Sniff" nodded silently. He even sobbed for the sake of decency.

You might think I'm a muslin young lady who is affected by such a technique. But meanwhile, this whole situation... Quite curious.

—Okay,— I said after thinking for a couple of minutes. —There is a way to help you. Solving both your and my problems at once.

—Yes? —Ferrier blinked his eyes. Well, my phrase made an impression on him. Now the main thing is to continue to pretend to be a person who is really interested in his problems.

Because the plan formed in my head may not solve his own problems. But some of them are mine for sure. The main thing is how this game should be played...

—Yes,— I stated, looking confident in his eyes. —How hostile is Mrs. Terrik toward you?

—She's been 'Mrs. Horne' for almost a year now,— Ferrier noted with disgust. Noticing my impatient look, the hijacker drooped, and his eyes darted around, feverishly thinking. —Well, if Booster sees me in her company, he'll definitely kill me. And Mirax herself... well, it seems she went into legal transportation. I heard that she works part-time on her freighter for the New Republic... Well, she's such a lady, not malicious, but vindictive, of course... I personally didn't do any harm to her... So, what is she needed for?

—The last one is not so important,— I remarked. — As I understand it, Booster Terrik has buzz droids stored on his Star Destroyer?

—Well, where else,— Ferrier grinned. —He's not Karrde to just set up bases all over the galaxy. He is a greedy person and is afraid of losing everything again.

—If my memory serves me correctly, Mr. Terrik's ship is a partially disarmed Imperial-class Star Destroyer; it doesn't cost anything to pretend to be a poorly informed Imperial. But it will allow Ferrier to partially assert himself.

—Yes, two,— he flashed with awareness. —With the help of Karrde and his handy sucker from Rogue Squadron, Wedge Antilles managed to tear off such a tasty morsel just in time for Ysanne Isard to be killed on Thyferra...

Having said this, the hijacker looked around in fear, as if he was afraid that the «Snow Queen» as the Director of Imperial Intelligence was called, would personally rise from the "dead" and strangle the foul-mouthed man.

—Since you don't have the best relationship with Mr. Terrik,— I said laconically, —why don't you help ensure that his ship finds a more suitable owner? You could easily tell us the coordinates of the location of this ship so that we could capture it. I'm sure the commissions on such a deal would be generous...

"Sniff" licked his lips carnivorously, becoming even more repulsive. Apparently he has thought about this more than once.

—That would be a good deal,— he agreed bitterly. —But the problem is that Terrik is paranoid. It seems to him that there will certainly be hunters for his "Errant Venture". There are a lot of people who want to get their hands on an Imperial-class Star Destroyer, and even a two-class one. From what I've heard, Booster's beard turned gray when he learned that the Empire was looking for warships. So now he is even more careful in matters of conspiracy and allowing anyone onto the ship. And given that the weapons on board this "two" are not enough, it will not withstand a direct collision and the Star Destroyer Booster was launched, as I heard. But one way or another, his ship is constantly on the move and he communicates the coordinates of places to meet with sellers and buyers through trusted persons, of whom I am not one, as you understand, Grand Admiral.

—I understand that perfectly well,— I agreed. and at the same time, it is possible to find this ship.

—Yes, it's easier to find "Sa Nalaor" than "Errant Venture"! —"Sniff" snorted. —Is there at least some information about him...

—Sa Nalaor,— I said the unfamiliar name. —What is this?

—Uh-uh,— the hijacker paused. —Don't you know this story?

—Which one? —I clarified. To be honest, this is the first time I've heard of it. —What is this, "Sa Nalaor"?

—Oh,— Ferrier said meaningfully. —I spent a lot of credits to find this ship. A legend among treasure hunters! It is rumored to be a Separatist Munificent-class frigate that disappeared shortly before the end of the Clone Wars. Rumor has it that there are billions of credits worth of treasure on board, not to mention the super-sophisticated prosthetic technology. Oh, how much money and time the smart ones spent to find this boat! — the hijacker closed his eyes dreamily. —I myself spent a lot of credits searching for him... his face darkened, —only to understand that this was a Hutt rumor that had nothing to do with reality. This ship is a myth! It's just as much a myth as discovering the "Errant Venture" when Booster Terrik doesn't want it!

Soooo, I think I understand what the hijacker is trying to say. Back in my world I heard a story about similar ships. With only one difference —I knew for sure that this ship exists in the reality of a galaxy far, far away. And in the near future, they will definitely get to this ship. Unless, of course, they have already laid their «raking paws» on his treasures. I'll have to think about this.

—We'll talk about legends some other time; we need to move the conversation into a more constructive direction. —I heard that Mr. Terrik is a very exemplary father of the family. From what I've heard about him, much more than his business, he's afraid of losing his daughter,— Ferrier blinked several times, thinking. Then his eyes began to widen...

—No,— he said quietly and very uncertainly. —The booster will rip my head off. He will find you on the edge of the galaxy, rush in with his whole gang and tear it apart with his own hands. Not to mention the fact that he will gather with him everyone he can to deal with those who offend his daughter! To finish me off!

—I hope so, Mr. Ferrier,— I allowed myself a smile, from which "Sniffs"'— eye began to twitch. — and you should also think about the possibility that Booster Terrik wants to kill you.

***

As soon as the entrance hatch was battened down, Eymand greeted him with a welcoming nod, draining a glass of amber liquid in one gulp. Corellian whiskey is the best drink in the world.

—How's it going? — the zabrak asked lazily.

—The privateering patent is ours,— Tyberos grinned, as if it could have been otherwise. —We're leaving for a free hunt, old friend.

—Not that old,— the zabrak said kindly. Raising the comlink to his mouth, he commanded:

— Raise the ship into orbit, striped devils. Let's fly to hunt

—You knew my mother as a Padawan in the Jedi Order,— the corsair reminded. — And almost thirty years have passed.

—Oh, don't start,— the former Jedi winced. — It's better to tell us what you had a conversation with the Imperials about.

While they walked into the control room of the taking off freighter, Tyberos recounted to his old friend and also the senior assistant in his gang everything that he had talked about with the imperial commander.

—Grand Admiral, huh? —The zabrak picked his fingernail between his teeth. —It smells like napalm...

—I myself was almost dumbfounded by what was happening,— admitted Tyberos. a blue-skinned man, and even a grand admiral... Where did the Empire get another «grand»?

—Yes, after Endor they are like a bunch of uncut ones,— the zabrak waved him off. — Every first Imperial puts these white rags on himself and tells how magnificent he is. The entire galaxy knows that there were only twelve true Grand Admirals in the Empire. All the rest are just costumed clowns. You can come up with anything —who will understand everything that is happening?

—You know, by this logic, you can come out of the shadows, say that you are a surviving Jedi Master and push around that sucker Skywalker,— Tyberos chuckled.

—I'd rather stop drinking and kill this bestial descendant of Darth Vader,— a shadow ran across the zabrak's face.

—Forgive me, friend,— Tyberos looked into the glazed and full of anger eyes of his mentor. —I forget how hard it is for you to talk about all this...

—Hard? — he smiled bitterly. —Tyberos, I saw with my own eyes how the one whom the entire Jedi Order considered the Chosen One, Anakin Skywalker, carved out the devastated temple. Younglings, Padawans, wounded —this butcher stopped at nothing and no one. I still can't forgive myself that then, on the day of execution of Order Sixty-Six, I ran away instead of taking the fight...

—Darth Vader would have killed you just like dozens of other Jedi before you,— Tyberos noted calmly. and I wouldn't have a friend like you...

—Yeah,— Eymand chuckled darkly. — A Jedi explorer who doesn't really want to be a Jedi because the only Jedi in the galaxy is the son of a Jedi who killed almost every Jedi I know.

Jedi Knight Eymand.

— Are there too many words "Jedi" in one semantic construction? —Tyberos smiled. He sometimes liked to make fun of a family friend. He was the only representative of the «Jedi scum» as his mother called them, who, after the collapse of the Republic and the Order, did not try to stage a coup, did not participate in political protests and unrest. But he just settled down in the Outer Rim, not showing up, and little by little he tried to make ends meet by working as a mercenary. Actually, it was in this field that their family met the former Jedi researcher. It's not that his mother didn't like him, but there was never any outright enmity between them. Everyone minded their own business and did not try to teach the other. After the death of his parents, it was Eymand who found him and told him everything about himself. Well, the decision to properly bleed the rebels is already the fruit of mutual agreements.

—If you approached your training as responsibly as you approach the sarcasm with which you express yourself, you would have long ago become a full-fledged Jedi knight,— Eymand snorted. —I wouldn't hang around like an overgrown youngling!

—I don't need this,— Tyberos calmly noted. —You said it yourself —I'm not that strong in this Power of yours. So, I would prefer to be content with what we have now: you plan the actions, I execute them.

—Yeah,— the zabrak scratched his chin thoughtfully. —I wonder what this same Grand Admiral Thrawn meant when he said that he could help you with your training?

—I don't care,— Tyberos waved his hand. — Probably he was going to slip some trinkets as —sacred relics of the Jedi Order— in order to gain loyalty.

—Do you think they intend to resurrect the Inquisitorium? — Eymand asked, nervously stroking the scar on his neck a "gift" from meeting one Force-sensitive sentient who was in the service of the Galactic Empire.

—I don't know,— Tyberos admitted. —I don't care—I don't want to be a puppet in someone's hands. If I ever have the patience to learn your Jedi Masterclass lessons, it will be by making progress on my own, not by being taught by someone like the Empire.

—Considering that we are fighting against the New Republic, at the helm of which are the intelligent ones who gave and carried out the order that caused the death of your parents, and on a short leash they have the only son of Anakin Skywalker, known to the galaxy for more than two years, involved in this same thing decades as Darth Vader, I don't think it's a smart move to refuse the Empire's offer,— Eymand said. —I remember how much crap Skywalker Sr. was able to create and what a butcher he was on the battlefield. I very much doubt that my son did not follow in his father's footsteps. The New Republic can talk as much as they want about how merciful and great-moral their only Jedi Knight is. Who destroyed millions of lives with a couple of torpedoes in the Battle of Yavin IV, and he doesn't dream about the dead at night. No, the baby Nexu does not crawl far from its mother —this little Skywalker is just like his dad. He just hasn't snapped and fallen to the Dark Side yet. But when this happens, the galaxy will once again wash itself with blood. Trust me.

—Listen,— Tyberos looked into the eyes of his friend and mentor. — Maybe Luke Skywalker is not the son of Anakin Skywalker? Or is that what the Force is telling you?

—My brain tells me so,— Eymand sighed wearily, shaking his head. —One surname, both are sensitive to the Force —this is direct heredity. Considering that Darth Vader's mother died and he had no other relatives, there were few options.

—Don't you care? —Tyberos winced. —Let's gain strength, earn some money from the Imperials, pay Boba Fett, and let him finish off this Skywalker brat. By that time, Thrawn will kick the New Republic in the teeth, which means we will take revenge on the rebels and their tame Jedi both for the death of my parents and for the death of the Jedi Order.

—Well, since the empire hired us, then there shouldn't be problems with money,— Eymand noted. —But the Force tells me that everything is not so simple in our galactic swamp... Something is happening. Something is wrong. I caught this when we arrived in the Tangrene system.

-Can you determine what it is? —Tyberos clarified.

—No,— the zabrak admitted. —This is some kind of distortion... For several moments it appeared in the Force, and then disappeared again and again.

—Maybe this has something to do with the fact that the Grand Admiral somehow managed to block the Force during our meeting? asked Tyberos.

—Yes, the Hutt knows him,— said Eymand. —I'm a researcher —I'd like to rummage around with artifacts and holocrons, but that's not all... Okay, I went to my cabin, I'll meditate, maybe the Force will whisper something worthwhile regarding our future life-existence.

—Let your Force will send us more prize money and a good fight,— Tyberos asked, looking after the retreating zabrak.

— And Corellian whiskey! —he shouted back. —We're running out of booze on the ship!

— Are you kidding? —Tyberos shouted. — Last week we just bought a whole box!

— I meditated a lot! — he heard the cry of a zabrak hiding around the corner of the corridor.

***

Morshdine Sector Moff Felix Ferrus sat in his office, studying the lists of captured assets obtained as a result of Grand Admiral Thrawn's raid on rebel bases in the Dafilvean sector.

Small and heavy weapons, thermal detonators, grenade launchers, ammunition kits, provisions, light equipment like swoops and airspeeders, gravity bikes, a large, no, even huge, supply of medicines, computer equipment, droids...

And there is a lot of essentially useless rubbish, such as building blocks, light armor of enemy soldiers... It seems as if the Grand Admiral's stormtroopers raked out absolutely everything that they could find or remove from the enemy's corpses. Yes, judging by the fact that the lists of battle trophies also include those that were damaged during the battle by stormtroopers fire.

Somehow... unusual. Like scavengers rummaging through the belongings of their victims. War trophies are one thing, of course, but armor from the dead...

After thinking a little, the Moff moved the items with «dead property» to the «to be sold» column. There are buyers for any curiosities on the black market. If clone armor from the times of the Grand Army of the Republic is still in great demand (even those that have been in battle), not to mention the simpler and more modern plastoid armor of stormtroopers, then there will always be a buyer for these «treasures».

A beep was heard from the door leading to his office. Someone intended to go inside.

The stormtrooper standing next to the door panel silently unlocked it, then reported to the Moff:

—Chief Engineer Nick Reyes reporting, sir,— he said.

—Let,— the Moff waved his hand, putting the documents aside. This can be done later after talking with Reyes. Moreover, Grand Admiral Thrawn is due to arrive any minute, whose assistant has scheduled an audience on the issue of ensuring Tangrene's safety. Although the Moff suspected that the Supreme Commander found out about the reasons for the appearance of the shipyard's chief engineer in the Moff's office earlier than the Moff himself.

—Come in,— they have known Reyes for a long time, long before Felix's appointment to the position of Moff in this sector. So in private they could and did set aside various conventions such as the formalism of communication. —Will you be a caf?

—It would be better to have something stronger,— the chief engineer said grumpily, settling down in the chair offered to him. His serious, even slightly arrogant face, —painted— with the scarlet eyepiece of his cybernetic eye, looked at the Moff, who, in turn, spread his arms with a smile. —Don't say that you have nothing again.

Type II Orbital Repair Yard Chief Engineer Nick Reyes.

—The Grand Admiral will arrive in fifteen minutes,— Felix said. —I don't really want him to know that I have Alderaanian drinks in my safe.

— Have you decided to listen to the report on the modernization of escort frigates yourself? — the only armor located above the real, right eye, crawled up questioningly. The metal fingers of the prosthesis on the chief engineer's right hand clicked against each other with a disgusting grinding sound.

—You think the Moff and the Supreme Commander of the Empire have no other reason to meet than to discuss your durasteel rivets? —Felix grinned.

—Well, yes, of course,— the chief engineer curled his lips. —You, the warriors. All just to fight. And the fact that we simply have nothing to repair your ingenious strategic victories with —the warehouses are emptying before our eyes, there is almost no equipment and resources —this is not interesting to you. You just need more guns and more torpedo tubes!

—Don't say something like that in front of Thrawn,— Ferrus scowled. —They say he forced the ISB colonel to do push-ups right on the bridge when he said or asked something unflattering to him in front of the watchmen.

—I can do it with even one arm,— Nick grinned, demonstrating the prosthesis. —You'll see, I still haven't lost my form, although I graduated from the Academy even before you.

—I readily believe,— Ferrus grinned. —Better tell me, what do you have there?

— A detailed report on the progress of repair work on the Star Destroyers,— Nick handed the Moff his deck. —If we concentrate strictly on them, we can get them into operation much faster. And after that it will be possible to move on to frigates, corvettes and other small things.

—Hmm,— Felix scanned the report. — I see you also worked on the escorts?

—I took the design drawings of the Kuat Shipyards from the archives as a basis,— Reyes explained. — Nothing complicated, actually. But time and resources will be required.

—I wouldn't say that we have plenty of one or the other,— the Moff said thoughtfully. —Okay, at least there is texture to work with. I hope the Grand Admiral is satisfied with this. Especially considering the short time frame in which you did everything...

They talked for several minutes about the details, discussing certain «sharp» points, before the door panel swung open.

The first to rush inside was a gray, stocky creature, whom the Moff had already seen surrounded by the Supreme Commander. A bodyguard who, like a silent shadow, took a position in the office, not caring at all about what opinion the rest of those present had about his actions.

Grand Admiral Thrawn entered the office next. As always, in a snow-white uniform, with boots polished to a mirror shine, the blue-skinned humanoid gave the impression of calm confidence.

Having greeted those present, he sank into an unoccupied chair, ignoring Felix's offer to sit at the head of the table.

—This is your workplace, Moff Ferrus,— he said calmly. —Let's not waste time. There is already not enough of it.

—Nick Reyes,— the governor of the Morshdine sector introduced his friend. — Chief engineer of the orbital shipyard.

—Nice to meet you, Mr. Reyes,— the Grand Admiral said just as simply. The engineer was slightly taken aback —to hear such communication between naval personnel and «technical personnel», which was considered to be shipyard workers by all, without exception, members of the crews of starships of the Imperial Navy, was at least... unusual. Where is the usual contempt, arrogance and sense of self-superiority?!

Apparently, the rumors that Grand Admiral Thrawn is, to put it mildly, —not your typical Imperial— are true. Although the Moff himself believed that this statement primarily concerns the appearance and origin of the Grand Admiral. Inhumans in the Empire were not just «disliked» —they were despised. And whoever did not do this, at best, ended his career in an «honorary» high-ranking position somewhere on the outskirts of the empire. In the Morshdine sector, for example.

— Nice to meet you too, sir,— answered the military engineer.

—I would like to take this opportunity to ask how my starships are being repaired? asked the Grand Admiral. —They reported to me that the ships will return to active operations within a week to four weeks. To put it mildly, this is too long.

—I understand, sir,— admitted the chief engineer. —However, we primarily depend on the volume of spare parts and parts that we have at our disposal in the Tangrene warehouses, as well as on the supply of goods from Bilbringi.

— A caravan of five Star Galleons, accompanied by three Tartan-class patrol cruisers, set out for Bilbringi yesterday,— the Moff added. —We expect their arrival within two weeks with a full set of spare parts for all existing ships.

— And in this case, we will need another week, maximum two, so that all the ships you brought to Tangrene, without exception, are repaired and modernized,— Reyes concluded.

— Do I understand correctly that there is currently a stock of equipment and parts for repairing star destroyers in warehouses? — Thrawn clarified.

—Yes, sir,— confirmed the Moff.

— According to the instructions for repairing warships, we carry out simultaneous repairs of all starships that need it,— Reyes explained, knowing full well that naval officers are not very strong in «technical literacy». —That's why spare parts are distributed among all ships.

—Unfortunately for us, we do not have the ability to delay repairs,— Thrawn said. -Take care of the Star Destroyers first.

—Got it, sir,— the chief engineer immediately took out a laptop computer from his pocket. Opening it, he began to type a message. After which he froze in the midst of writing, removed the device from his eyes and looked carefully at the Supreme Commander-in-Chief. —Sir, may I please correct the previous orders immediately? Otherwise, by the end of this conversation, my guys will have to pick out some of the spare parts from the bowels of the escort frigates.

—I grant you permission, Chief Engineer,— Thrawn replied, instantly losing interest in Reyes, who was immersed in working with the computer. —Moff, while we have some time, I would like to point out to you what starships you can use to defend Tangrene and the entire sector.

Felix nearly choked on a hiccup. Is it that simple? Will they give him starships? At least a couple of Star Destroyers!

—I'm moving the base of my fleet to Tangrene,— the Grand Admiral dumbfounded him with the news. —Soon all the starships under my command will arrive here. —You will have at your disposal a Mark I-class assault frigate, a Carracka-class light cruiser, two Impact-class medium cruisers, and one Immobilizing 418-class interdictor cruiser,— Thrawn said. And the destroyers?! —One Tartan-class patrol cruiser each —to patrol the sector systems at your disposal. Escort frigates of the Nebulon-B type are also at your disposal to guard our convoys. You also have most of my Star Galleons on you. If necessary, I will take from you the ships I need for missions.

—Understood, sir,— the Moff said slowly. —So you're taking the Crusader from me?

At least one puny —Victory I— could properly drive the enemy away from the system. And this fleet that Thrawn gives... Well... at least something.

—I already took it,— he said evenly. —Don't worry, after some time an orbital defense station of the Golan II type will be delivered to Tangrene's orbit.

—Sir? — Felix blinked his eyes in confusion. as far as I know, the Imperial Ruling Council is not happy with these stations being removed from the defense system of Bilbringi or any other systems...

—This station is captured by us in the Crondre system,— Thrawn said calmly. —It is equipped with a hyperdrive, a navigation computer and propulsion engines from an enemy ship. According to the station crew's estimates, they will arrive in a few weeks.

Reyes, hearing something interesting, looked at Thrawn with curiosity.

—Sir, let me clarify,— he said. —Have you improvisedly equipped an orbital defense station with a hyperdrive?

—Yes,— Thrawn looked at him. —Given its damage in battle, it will lose... not many spare parts during the transition.

The Moff and the chief engineer looked at each other. What?! An orbital station moving in hyperspace?! Yes, yes, yes... Yes, Kuat Shipyards are spending billions to find the right hyperdrive for their orbital repair stations and make them fly in hyper. And here they just attached an engine from some ship?!

—Sir, if you don't mind, my people and I would like to inspect the station after it... lands,— it seems that Reyes' eyelid began to twitch under the cybernetic prosthesis of his left eye.

—I don't mind,— Thrawn replied. —Moreover, I'll tell you. You will have to study the temporary structure that we used, repair the station so that it can continue to move in hyperspace.

—I'll do everything I can, sir,— the engineer said shyly. In fact, Thrawn offered him «on his knees» to reveal the secret of the Kuat Shipyards, which they themselves had been revealing for hundreds of years. So, maybe the stars will also need to be extinguished?

Felix thought that Thrawn's order to create privateering and a prize court, trade captured goods on the black market were still flowers compared to what would happen...

—Next, as for you, Mister Reyes,— Thrawn continued. — A group of medium-sized freighters is undergoing repairs at the Bilbringi shipyards. They will arrive here along with working prototypes of cloaking devices,— the chief engineer approached, looking at the Grand Admiral with suspicion. And the Moff shared his feelings. A cloaking device is not like a blaster that you can get in any back alley. This is an elite and top-secret technology! Without diagrams or descriptions of operating principles... —The convoy that was sent to Bilbringi will deliver a team of technicians who worked with this technology, as well as the necessary equipment, along with them, spare parts and resources that will be required to complete the next part of my plan . You will receive basic technical diagrams and a description of the operation of cloaking devices a little later from the commander of my flagship, Captain Pellaeon.

Neal Reyes' other eye is twitching now.

So, what will the Grand Admiral, about whom we had not heard for a long time until last year, pull out of his «pocket» next? A couple of brand new super-destroyers? The Death Star? "Katana fleet"? "Sa Nalaor"? An army of clones? A fleet of lost Star Destroyers? Hutt, come on, what else do you expect? Resurrection of the Emperor?!

—I understand you, sir,— said the chief engineer. —So I understand that the asteroids that your ships unloaded near my shipyards are also part of some kind of plan?

—Of course,— Thrawn agreed. as soon as the necessary supply of a substance known as hybridium is delivered from Garos IV, begin installing camouflage systems on the asteroids.

—For everyone? — Reyes was taken aback.

—Yes,— the Grand Admiral answered simply.

—Sir, but there are one hundred and thirty-seven of them! — the chief engineer could not stand it. and each one is the size of a fighter jet!

—Not all of them are that big,— Thrawn noted. — A significant part are smaller ones, about the size of a speeder. But that doesn't matter now.

—Grand Admiral, sir,— Felix said carefully. — If I correctly imagine the costs of such a project, then it will take one and a half to two hundred million loans to implement it!

—That's right, Moff Ferrus,— Thrawn continued to remain calm. —money is my concern. You just need to do your job.

—With all due respect, sir,— the chief engineer shook his head, —I have a little more than four thousand engineers and technicians under my command. We won't be able to repair ships and build camouflage fields on asteroids at the same time...

—I'll provide you with the technicians, don't worry about it,— Thrawn showed for the first time anything resembling emotions. —By the way, several freighters will also need to be equipped with camouflage fields —their holds, in particular, three medium cruisers of the Strike type, a Golan II type station, as well as an orbital repair shipyard. I will send you additional instructions if necessary.

—Sir,— Felix said. —The Imperial Ruling Council will simply rip my skin off...

—They don't need to know about this, Moff Ferrus,— Thrawn noted. —I would even say it's undesirable. In the near future, I will personally talk with them and assure them of the need to increase funding for the activities of our fleet.

—Sorry, sir,— the Moff grimaced, —but you don't know these curmudgeons very well. This is the second year I've been asking them for an ion cannon to protect the planet, but the answer is only excuses...

—But you're not a grand admiral,— Thrawn noted calmly. Looking carefully at Felix, who was about to open his mouth, he added:

—I'm sorry, Moff, but I can't give you a planetary ion cannon either —I need it for... other purposes,— Felix was not unaware of how Thrawn delicately avoided the reason why he does not want to share the captured ion cannon V-150 «Planet Defender». Well, okay.

after some time, my ships will deliver mining equipment, a supply of metals, as well as volatile fuel, rhydonium, to the shipyard,— the Grand Admiral continued, looking straight into the eyes of the chief engineer. —The purified ore will be useful to you, Mr. Reyes and your subordinates, in order to repair ships in a timely manner...

«So, what about equipment for mining? What, we'll also have to dig into the ground in search of resources?» Moff Ferrus thought wearily. It seems that he exalted the Grand Admiral too much in his presentation. Apparently, he is trying to build a self-sustaining fleet base within one sector... Not that the Moff is against it, but... This requires billions! If you create everything from the very beginning, then...

—...With all due respect, sir, but rhydonium is a very unstable source of fuel,— noted the chief engineer. —Our engines will have to be modernized, and radically, so that they can operate on this type of fuel without major problems.

—I'm already familiar with the calculations about the properties of rhydonism,— Thrawn noted. —No, you won't have to upgrade your ships' engines. All you need is to make sure that plasma drills, the so-called «miners» can run on this fuel. One, maybe two accelerations to quickly move to the goal.

«What's going on?!» Felix almost asked, realizing that he was losing the thread of the conversation. He didn't understand anything at all. Rhydonium, —miners—... Did Thrawn decide to replace fighters with plasma kamikadre drills?!

—Grand Admiral,— he said. —Prince Admiral Delak Krennel has agreed to provide us with fighters, interceptors and bombers to replace the losses. Really... the Moff hesitated. —Price...

—Who would doubt that the Ciutric Hegemony decided to profit from its allies,— Thrawn suddenly grinned. and what price does Mr. Prince Admiral offer for the ships we need?

—Seventy thousand credits for one TIE fighter, ninety thousand for a TIE interceptor and one hundred and ten thousand for a TIE bomber,— the Moff said a little more quietly, realizing that according to the laws and traditions of imperial military logic, seniors in rank and position in case of a bad mood They raze those who brought them bad news to the ground. And in this case, there is a direct cause-and-effect relationship between «bad news» and «bad mood». And no one will blame the Grand Admiral...

—That's right,— Thrawn said thoughtfully, stroking his chin. — The price is certainly too high compared to what it was in the Empire before.

—Most of the factories for the production of small aircraft of the TIE series have already been either destroyed or captured by the enemy,— noted the chief engineer. —Given that the creation of these ships requires specialized production lines and a huge number of different resources —from dual ion engines and solar panels to transparisteel for windows —such a small increase in price can be considered justified.

—But not in conditions where we are the only ones conducting military operations against our common enemy,— Thrawn noted. —While our allies are just sitting behind my crews, this is more than insulting.

—I understand, Grand Admiral,— the chief engineer spread his hands. —But, unfortunately, little can be done against the existing system. The Ciutric Hegemony is the only imperial state, not counting the Pentastar Alignment, that has the ability to complete the production cycle of TIE-type equipment —both air and ground. Even in Imperial Space there is no such large capacity —production is too slow. As far as I know, Ord Tracy and Bilbringi are at least producing all three types of SFUs we need —but extremely slowly.

—This situation must be corrected,— Thrawn stated, literally pinning the chief engineer with his gaze. —We cannot spend incredible amounts of money on the purchase of ships that could die en masse in battles with the enemy. Your shipyard is able to build starships. Is it really that difficult to create a production line for us to make fighters, bombers and interceptors?

—It's impossible without knowledge of the technological process,— noted Nick Reyes. —Of course, we can apply the reverse engineering process to fill in the missing knowledge, but...

— Do you need money and time? — Thrawn clarified.

— And several unnecessary samples of fighters, interceptors and bombers,— nodded the chief engineer. — I am quite confident in the competence of my workers, but it is necessary to understand that we do not specialize in building ships from scratch, but only in assembling them from modules supplied by manufacturing companies. We can repair it, in accordance with our knowledge and technical designs, and we can modernize it —within reason. But creating an industrial line... This is a huge expense and a waste of time. It may take months or more to study the process... But even in this case, I do not guarantee the result.

—Moff Ferrus,— Thrawn addressed the governor of the Morshdine sector. — What is the size of the air wing based on Tangrene under the Ubiqtorate?

—Fourteen squadrons, sir,— he answered without hesitation. —Now —two.

— And we also have losses among all types of small aircraft on star destroyers,— Thrawn continued. —Plus, some of our captured starships should also be able to carry an air wing —the same escort frigates, for example. Or Corellian corvettes and a gunboat... Yes, it will take a lot of money to make up for the problems we have with the SFU.

—Then we have a problem,— said the chief engineer. — Either we use reverse engineering and create our own semi-handicraft production facilities, or we purchase at least units and assemble them on site.

—Well, why not,— Thrawn objected. — There is always a third option for the development of events.

But the Grand Admiral was not going to clarify what he meant. At all.

—Mr. Reyes,— he turned to the chief engineer again. — Of course, the deadline has not yet expired, but how is the work progressing with the modernization of the captured escort frigates?

— Actually,— Reyes took his deck from the Moff's hands and handed it to the Grand Admiral. —Given our heavy material and repair capabilities, I would suggest using the modernization options that Sienar Shipyards developed for the Nebulons a year before the Battle of Endor.

Thrawn looked at the images in the files with interest.

Imperial Mk-I version of the EF76 «Nebulon-B» escort frigate

—In the first option, by reducing the volume of the hangar, reducing the number of transport shuttles to two units, as well as reducing the air wing to one squadron, the arsenal of the escort frigate is doubled,— explained the chief engineer. — in fact, it will be a light cruiser. The entire hull is covered with cruising armor, which increases its resistance in linear combat. Due to partial changes in the internal premises and a reduction in the volume of transported cargo, the speed remains the same. This variant is designated Mk-I.

— That is, it becomes primarily an artillery ship with minimal air coverage? — the Grand Admiral clarified.

—The manufacturing company assumed that such starships would operate as part of a formation,— the Moff noted. —So, due to the general potential, the lack of aviation had to be compensated by increased weapons, as well as by the air wings of other ships of the formation. Oh yes, I almost forgot. There is an optional possibility of installing up to four launchers of proton torpedoes or concussion missiles in the forward hemisphere. In any case, despite the small ammunition capacity —only three rounds per installation —this could turn out to be a very, very unpleasant surprise for the enemy.

—Now tell us about the Mk-II variant,— asked the Grand Admiral.

Imperial version of the Mk-II escort frigate EF76 «Nebulon-B»

— And this is the opposite concept,— Neil noted. —The armament remains the same —twelve turbolasers, twelve laser cannons, tractor beams. But at the same time, due to the repurposing of the cargo compartment, the placement of external slings, the removal of vehicles from the hangar, except for the air wing and a pair of cargo shuttles, this ship has the opportunity to install additional armor, as well as accommodate not twenty-four fighters or interceptors, but forty eight! Three squadrons are located in the main hangar, four additional vehicles are located in the cargo hold at the bow, and another eight are on an external sling between the stern and bow sections. And the speed and maneuverability of the ship are also maintained. But unlike its predecessor, the Mk-II does not have the ability to transport passengers or troops —it is a pure escort ship, for which boarding combat is fraught.

—In other words, either an ersatz cruiser or an ersatz aircraft carrier,— Thrawn concluded.

—Unfortunately, that's exactly the case, sir,— said the chief engineer. — Actually, that's why the ship was not very popular in the battle fleet —even sending it into escort in its original form... is scary. But the rebels turned them into something like battleships that fight well with our starships.

—Okay,— Thrawn said. — We have two escort frigates. Create one and the other option, let's test them in battle. There is no point in choosing just one. These ships need to cover convoys and more important targets, but we do not have fighters to build second modifications. And the first one is more suitable for linear combat or raiding. But we also have... in general, enough battleships. How much will the modernization work cost?

—Considering that we have a supply of armor and guns, but if we can produce the former ourselves, then we will have to purchase the latter or wait for supplies... the chief engineer began to think in his mind.

—Let's consider the option of purchasing the necessary equipment and weapons,— Thrawn suggested.

—In this case, the sum is half a million for the conversion of each ship,— said Reyes. — This is the price tag for materials. You understand —workers are paid a salary, so paying for their labor is a different expense item.

—Okay, the money will be allocated to you,— said the Grand Admiral. —If necessary, you can cut up the rebel strike frigate into spare parts to save money, but on the condition that it must retain the ability to move and jump into hyperspace.

Looking at the Moff, to whom this ship had already been promised, the Grand Admiral added:

—If this happens, I will transfer another Strike-class medium cruiser to your command.

—Yes, sir,— Ferrus calmed down.

—Mr. Reyes,— the Grand Admiral addressed the chief engineer again. —I would like you to consider changes to the design of our Star Destroyer hangars. Or the modernization of the starships themselves.

—What needs to be done? —Nick became interested.

— Considering the low protection of our ships from enemy SFUs, I ask you to consider three concepts. The first is the installation of additional fastenings in the hangar for transportation during flight of a ship similar in size to the Corellian gunboat DP20 or a corvette of the CR90 type.

Catching Thrawn pausing for a recapitulation, the chief engineer said:

—Sir, Imperial I-class Star Destroyers have very mediocre, but sufficient laser cannon cover. Another thing is for the «twos», whose only hope is for the air wing... Hmm... Considering the size of the hangar, the length and dimensions of the hull of the proposed ships... Sir, several standard holders-manipulators for external docking will be enough to take inside any of the ships you suggest.

—The second option is to expand the hangar to include internal premises to accommodate additional squadrons,— Thrawn's proposal was made.

Here Nick was no longer so quick to respond.

After a few seconds of thought, he said:

—Sir, I'm not ready to answer right now—it is necessary to evaluate the technical design of the entire ship in order to talk about any fundamental decision.

—The third option,— Thrawn said. — Increasing the number of laser cover weapons or installing them, in particular on —twos. I would also like to see an option with the return of three built-in medium turbolasers according to a linear-elevated scheme, as on the «ones». When in battle you have to divert heavy artillery to drive away medium ships like frigates or corvettes, this is not good.

— And it will also allow us to disguise a real "two" visually as a «one» — the chief engineer narrowed his only real eye. —Considering the difference in the number of heavy turbolasers between these types of ships... Yes, this will most likely turn out to be a fatal surprise for any enemy battleship.

— And lastly,— Thrawn made it clear that he was bringing the conversation to an end. — read the possibility of placing pump generators and deflector field projectors under the armor. As the rebels did on their MC30s frigate.

—Sir,— the chief engineer winced, as if his teeth hurt, but he tried his best to restrain himself. — MC30s is a rarity, which has already been massively scrapped by the rebels for metal. His pump generators will not be able to provide more power for our shields.

—But they will be able to help them recover even under enemy fire,— the Grand Admiral noted. —Take my word for it, chief engineer, we fought with these ships. With all their shortcomings, if they had thicker ship armor and more guns, not all starships would have reached their bases.

There was a tense silence.

—Yes, sir,— Reyes answered clearly in the statutory manner. —My people and I will do everything to improve our ships.

—We'll settle it there,— Thrawn said in the same calm tone. —Well, you have a lot of work ahead of you. Engage in solving the tasks assigned to you. I won't distract you. Rukh!

The gray-skinned bodyguard, whose presence had long been forgotten, deftly covered the distance from his place to the door, settling down next to the figure of the Grand Admiral.

When the door closed behind him, the Moff and the chief engineer, accompanying the departure of the thirteenth Grand Admiral of the Empire, standing at attention, as expected, were finally able to relax.

—You know,— Nick Reyes said thoughtfully, looking at the Moff, —it seems to me that soon we will remember the time when the Ubiqtorate was led on Tangrene with great gusto...

—I'm sure of it,— Felix agreed, grinning. Unable to resist, the Moff spoke up:

—Ubiqtorate, come back, we miss you!