Chapter 8 — Memories of the Past

Another translation. Have a nice read.

Nine years, five months and three days after the Battle of Yavin...

Or forty-fourth year, five months and three days after the Great ReSynchronization.

—You're weird guy. — the pilot sitting in front and above, in the makeshift cabin of the shieldship, told him confidentially. —Why would you ruin your youth in order to earn a few credit cards?

Rederick, sitting in the tiny interior of a giant spaceship, more like an open umbrella to which huge engines were attached, shrugged.

—I heard here is paid well here,— he said.

—Does Lando pay well? — the pilot grinned. —But, in fairness, it should be said that salaries at Nomadic are higher than at other mining enterprises in this region of the galaxy.

—So, Nomad Mines produces a lot of metal,— Rederick cast out his fishing rod.

—Not that much,— the pilot grimaced. —But we mine rare metals.— hfredium, kammris and dolomite. They are used in the construction of starships. And the Nkllon bark is extremely rich in them. Calrissian was lucky when he got this job. You can get quite rich here. With time.

The shieldship reaches Nklonn.

— So neither the Empire nor the New Republic are bothering you? —Rederick was surprised.

— Well, let them try, —the pilot chuckled. —You think this thing,—he patted his chair, but clearly meant his huge ship, —is here just like that?— No, Calrissian keeps a dozen shieldshipes so that nothing here gets fried from the radiation of the star. Even —Nomad is based exclusively on the dark side of the planet. On the one illuminated by a star —certain death in a couple of hours. Take my word for it —this rule is written in blood. Even —miners— work exclusively on the dark side.

—"miners"? —Rederick pretended not to understand what he was talking about.

— Plasma drills ,— apparently, the pilot did not like the more or less official name of the mining installations. —Those things that drill...

—I am a mine administrator by training,— Rederick recalled his legend. — I know what plasma drilling rigs are. But this is the first time I've heard them called «miners».

—Well,— the pilot said boredly. —Oh, Hutt, how I hate this hassle with calculating the course for the jump! Lando, the stingy Hutt, would have bought at least more or less modern hyperdrives and navigation computers here! These still remember the Old Republic during its formation.

—Wait,— Rederick frowned. — Are there hyperthrusts installed on the shieldship?

—Of course,— said the pilot with a touch of pride. — If it weren't for them, I would only spend half a day on a one-way flight. And so —I received access codes to the navigation computer, and quickly jumped. No, there are idiots who are too scared to hand over the codes, then I offer them a ten to fifteen hour flight at sublight speeds —we solve everything right there.

—That's it,— Rederick nodded. —And I thought only slow flight was possible...

—No, that would be pure idiocy, no one would have decided to work here then,— the pilot laughed, hitting the armrest of his seat with his palm. —It's possible to die of boredom right there.—

—Then shieldshipes are truly a wonderful invention,— Rederick agreed. —I don't understand why Calrissian doesn't actually spend a couple of million on suitable equipment for the ships then...

—Then we'll go down the drain,— said the pilot. —We have fifteen shieldshipes, and each one costs half a million a month in maintenance—they fall apart as they go.— If we start modernizing them or building new ones, we'll go bankrupt. Do you think how much money «Nomad» gets when it sells its mineral reserves?

—It depends on what kind of production, how many drills are working, how often transactions are made, how much market prices for a particular metal fluctuate,— Rederick began listing the criteria.

—Yes, we have a little more than fifty «miners» — the pilot winced. — And the warehouses at Nomad are small — we take them out for sale once every six months. Lando doesn't particularly trust the exchange —we carry out direct deliveries. Lando definitely has a net profit of twenty to thirty million.

—Why do you think so? —Rederick clarified. —Does he show you his accounts?

—Accounts are only for settlements with clients,— the pilot said confidentially. —And Lando is a retrograde. He loves to look at his money. Hutt, we have one bank vault the size of a cruiser. The truth is that it's still not filling to the top,— the pilot laughed.

—With such income, it should have been,— Rederick noted.

—That's if you don't play sabbac and don't make careless investments,— the pilot laughed. —Calrissian likes to take risks.— Almost the same as making money somewhere where he can be a monopolist. And Nklonn the only enterprise for the extraction of hfredium, kammris and dolomitee in the next ten to twenty sectors for sure. So he has good money. It's not for nothing that even miners here earn twice as much as at regular mines.

—You know, I was thinking that if Calrissian hires me, then I'll have to think about security,— Rederick said. —Such volumes of production... Such money... At least a couple of squadrons of fighters, and a small detachment on the surface —will not hurt.

—Oh, guy, you're not the only one so smart,— the pilot assured him. — Do you think Calrissian doesn't know how to fight off those who want to profit at his expense? Yes, I beg you. After the Cloud City on Bespin was taken away from him, he is ready to buy himself at least a whole fleet. —But there's still no money,— the pilot laughed again. Then he became more serious and added:

—We have some junk like fighter jets written off during the Republic,— he said. —So, don't waste your efforts on this. We also have about ten to twenty security personnel. Better think about how to increase production volumes —for this Lando will certainly kiss you and give you a higher salary.

—Well, I'll have a probationary period,— Rederick said. —I'll look around the place, see what's what, and I'll be bursting with ideas.— Thank you for telling me what's what. This way I will have at least some information. I owe you.

—You'll supply me with Corellian whiskey sometime,— the pilot lowered the price for his help, —and consider it settled.—

—We agreed,— Rederick agreed. —How much time do we have left? Will I have time to sleep?

—Of course,— the pilot said with unexpected frustration, tapping his finger on the navigation computer monitor. —Dead. We'll have to fly sublight. You have ten or eleven hours. You can lie around for now, and I'll let Nomad know.

— The communication system is also probably the oldest? Rederick chuckled.

—Well,— the pilot complained. —But you can while away the time by connecting to HoloNet.— If there is some idiot flying sublight, I while away the time watching some holofilm. Maybe you can join?

—No, I'd rather sleep,— Rederick stretched, yawning falsely. — There is still a lot of work ahead.

—Okay, guy,— the pilot pointed to the entrance hatch. —Then I'll fight up so as not to disturb you.— And don't forget —you owe me whiskey.

—Of course,— Rederick assured him.

Convinced that the pilot had kept his promise and had indeed battened down the hatch, Grand Admiral Thrawn's Fleet Intelligence Lieutenant Rederick pulled a compact communications device from a hidden pocket. Having prepared a short report on everything he heard from the pilot —about the number of —miners—, about protection systems, about the profitability of the enterprise, and especially about the presence of hyperdrives on shieldshipes, he spent a few minutes remotely connecting to the ship's long-distance communication system and camouflaging its transmission under the usual data exchange, which the pilot used to watch an entertaining video. Several hours will pass before the message passes through dozens, or even hundreds of relays of the HoloNet system and reaches the Chimera. But it will definitely achieve it.

Imperial naval intelligence operative, Lieutenant Rederick. (under cover)

This is the mission of him and his colleagues —to find for the Grand Admiral everything necessary for the triumph of the Empire over the rebels.

After cleaning the device and data logs, which to the uninitiated is just a fancy comlink, the lieutenant returned it to its secret pocket and sat back in his chair.

Now you can sleep.

***

The return, or in my case the first appearance, to the fleet's operational base in the Linuri system was not accompanied by anything like parade formations, fireworks or anything similar.

Only the warships of the fleet, returning from their missions, having completed raids on the rebel communications.

The Chimera is the only ship among the nine Imperial-class Star Destroyers in my entire fleet that is classified as the second generation. The difference between «Imperial I» and «Imperial II» is not very noticeable at first glance, but in fact it is striking. And the more sad is the fact that only one such magnificent ship is under my command.

When Captain Pellaeon informed me that he was returning to base, I was already finishing reading Lieutenant Colonel Astarion's report. Modest, but tasteful. Should work if the intelligence is correct.

Now all that remained was to make the final preparations for the operation, give instructions to some, receive reports from others and voice our plan for what we had to do in the future. Soon.

Having left the cabin, I took with me a number of information chips so that I could read useful materials at my leisure, and noted that Rukh stuck to me like a silent shadow. And although the Noghri did not even show that he was tormented by remorse, everything was already clear.

Let us go from the system where we met with the mercenaries to the Linuri system in a relatively short time, thanks to the fact that we used regional hyperspace routes. And if they wanted, they could look at the homeland of the Noghri — the planet Honoghr. The world of these gray-skinned killers was located, as they say, «along the way» and it would not have taken much time to meet with the clan leaders. However, I ignored Pellaeon's proposal, demonstrating that Rukh's failure still bothered me.

Yes, we can say that he is a bodyguard, and not a saboteur, he could have made a mistake somewhere, they say, he has other tasks and other training. But the problem is that all the Noghri who join the commando forces and leave the planet have the same type of upbringing —killers and saboteurs. And Rukh is no exception. His failure will serve as a reminder to the rest of the Noghri that they should not fail me. And it will give you an extra chance to think about your loyalty.

Frankly, I didn't particularly dream of plans to release the Noghri into the «big world». While they are on Honoghr, they will not meet, even hypothetically, the Skywalker family, will not smell them and will not understand that they are the descendants of their beloved «our lord Darth Vader», which will call into question their loyalty to me. But I have no desire to ignore them for a long time. A lesson is good when it is understood and learned. But moving on to outright bullying and humiliation is a sure path to hostility. The political officer told me about this back in the army. Good man. Severe as the Arctic frost, cool as a paratrooper jumping from Everest, and full of worldly wisdom. In many ways, it was thanks to him that, having experienced considerable difficulties with physical training during military service, I understood, accepted and realized that the desire to serve the Motherland lies not only in the ability to be a soldier. Brains are also weapons. Or, as the political officer said: «The brain is first and foremost a weapon. And then comes the Kalashnikov assault rifle.»

Therefore, in the near future you should pay attention to them. But only after the dress rehearsal for the attack on Sluis Van has taken place.

—Captain,— I greeted Pellaeon, who met me on the bridge next to the turbolift doors — the shortest route from the Chimera's living decks to the conning tower.

—Grand Admiral,— he returned the greeting to me. — The fleet is assembled, the ship commanders are ready for the briefing.

— Lieutenant Colonel Astarion has already left the Chimera? —I asked.

—Yes, sir,— confirmed the Star Destroyer commander. — The commander of the Steel Aurora is waiting for confirmation of the order. His ship is ready to move out.

—Come on,— I ordered, heading to my chair at the front of the bridge. — Is there confirmation from Nklonn?

—That's right, sir,— said Pellaeon as we moved along the central platform. — Semi-annual production of purified rare earth metals. Lando Calrissian sold the previous reserves and has significant proceeds from trading in the enterprise in cash. At least twenty million credits. Resistance is minimal. Plasma drilling units —in the amount of fifty units, possibly more. Additionally, it is known that local ships that protect stars from radiation are equipped with hyperdrives, but not of the best class.

I didn't answer. It is already clear that the risk is worth it.

There were special compartments on board the Star Destroyer for briefings and various kinds of briefings, but at the moment, gathering all the officers who will be involved in the operation on board the flagship is a minimum waste of time. Already, half the month was spent in various kinds of administrative travel, otherwise it was lost time that no one will return to me. Especially in light of upcoming events.

He sat down in the chair and put his hands on the armrests. He paused a little, looking at the starships hanging motionless in the orbit of the planet Linuri. Only the combat wing of the fleet is concentrated here —star destroyers and medium cruisers. Frigates have their own bases in Imperial Space and until they are needed for their main profile, there is no point in pulling them. You can still talk to their commanders using communication systems.

But first, a conversation with those on whom the outcome of the Battle of Sluis Van largely depends.

—Captain Kalian,— I greeted the first hologram.

Commander of the Imperial Star Destroyer victory-I, Captain Kalian.

The relatively young —he looked not yet forty —commander of the Star Destroyer, whose power once brought absolute terror to the opponents of the Old Republic, during the time of which the "Victory" of the first modification was created, decorously greeted me, turning his full attention to my ears.

—Your task is to go under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Astarion to the planet Abafar,— I outlined the purpose of the mission. It was on this planet in the Sprizen sector of the Outer Rim that the Separatists, during the Clone Wars, mined rhydonium to fill that same hijacked Venator-class Star Destroyer for a mission to ram and destroy a Republican military station in the Carida system. — Provide the lieutenant colonel with maximum assistance in his mission. Upon completion of work on Abafar, report back.

—The order has been accepted and is clear, Grand Admiral,— the commander of the "Steel Auror"said bravely. —Will you allow me to perform?

—Proceed as soon as the lieutenant colonel is on board your ship,— I ordered.

—Yes, sir,— the hologram went out.

Pellaeon, standing behind my chair, snorted disapprovingly.

— Questions, captain? — I asked, without even thinking about turning my head towards him. Instead, I admired how the gray hull of victory I began to move, leaving the fleet formation and, a few seconds later, rushed forward into the blackness of space, moving to superluminal speed.

—Kalian is young, sir,— he declared. — Took over the Steel Aurora only a couple of weeks ago due to the death of its previous captain. I doubt that everything will go smoothly. If they run into rebel ships, they will have a hard time. Perhaps the Nemesis or Stormhawk would be much better suited for this mission.

—The captain has been serving on this destroyer for more than ten years,— I recalled data from the personal file of the newly appointed captain. — And more than three —in the position of senior assistant. Not a single complaint during the entire period of service. Execute and tactically proactive. Let's give him a chance to prove himself. Or do you doubt that senior mates would make suitable captains?

—No, sir,— Pellaeon hastily replied, realizing that this hint was addressed to him personally.

—Let's continue,— I decided, contacting another commander, but this time with a more experienced and proven officer.

—Captain Brandei,— the commander of the star destroyer «Judicator» greeted his address to himself with a frown. But this does not mean anything —this officer is always dissatisfied with life. —Report.

—Admiral, sir,— Brandei ignored Pellaeon, as if he did not exist. It would seem like disrespect for the commander of the flagship, but no. The regulations required that during such communication sessions one should address only the senior officer. — The Judicator is prepared for a mission to Nklonn. We have removed all equipment from the hull that could be damaged by radiation or heat during the mission. Maximum safety measures have been taken to preserve the hull and crew in combat-ready condition.

—Depart when ready,— I ordered. But he immediately added. — A report from our operative with detailed information on the enterprise will be forwarded to you. Please note that there is a parking lot of ships that shield the freighters delivering cargo to and from the planet to customers from stellar radiation. As soon as you finish confiscating valuables from Mr. Calrissian's enterprise, these ships must be destroyed. On site, you will be coordinated by our agent, who will contact the commander of the ground group. Good luck.

—Yes, sir,— Brandei nodded, after which his hologram disappeared.

—Admiral, you didn't tell Brandei the information about the presence of hyperdrives on shieldshipes,— the Chimera commander noted. —This could help him avoid damage to theJudicator during the mission.—

—If Brandei lives up to his track record, he will show tactical initiative,— I said. —He has the information, the instructions to pay attention to the shieldshipes have been given.— I'm not going to explain to him the obvious truths —I don't need uninitiated extras, there are enough stormtroopers.

The captain was silent for a while.

— Maybe it's worth sending our second "Victory", "Unshakable", there? —asked Pellaeon. —To be on the safe side. After all, Brandei will have to operate behind enemy lines. Calrissian can call New Republic ships from a nearby base for help... If the ship is damaged so much that it cannot independently leave Nklonn's orbit...

—If something like this happens, captain,— I said patiently, —then Captain Brandei is clearly unfit for his position.— And the crew of the Judicator, if they allow irreversible damage to the ship on which they serve, at the hands of several ground-based Nomad fighters or scrap metal that the rebels can now send from the base on Sluis Van, is not worth a decicred.

—One fighter managed to destroy the Executor's control room in the Battle of Endor,— Pellaeon noted reasonably. — The rebels are generally successful in using their small aircraft.

—First of all, it was an RZ-1 A-wing interceptor,— I corrected. — Secondly, with undischarged proton torpedo launchers. Thirdly, a situation in which a small enemy force can destroy a Star Destroyer nineteen standard kilometers long —and repeat this trick more than once —is a very sad statistic for our shipbuilders. And especially for those who have never learned to use what they have.

—I understand, sir,— Pellaeon said, a little distantly and even surprised.

—Now, about your proposal to use the second victory we have,— I continued. —Good idea. That's what we'll do.

—Sir? —There was open misunderstanding in the voice of the Chimera commander. And not at all because he was surprised by what I said. He just didn't receive specific instructions.

—Inform the commander of the Unshakable to go into Wayland's orbit and ensure the safety of the planet until further notice,— I ordered. —In addition, send one of our medium strike cruisers, Stately, to the Pakuuni system to secure the outpost.— Tell the cruiser commander that from now on he is responsible for maintaining our control over the system, as well as for the technical condition of the ships that will be delivered by the mercenaries.

—Will there be? —Pellaeon doubted.

—In two, maximum three days, we'll find out for sure,— I said. —Order our hostages to be moved to a base on the surface and placed under reliable guard.— We will not need them in the near future of our trip.

Pointing his finger at the icon of the Star Destroyer Relentless, he sent a connection request to its commander.

An intriguing game began.

A miniature hologram of an Imperial officer appeared above the holoprojector built into the armrest of my chair.

—Captain Dorja,— I turned to him. — "Relentless", under your command, is sent to the Garos system, the Msst sector of the Mid Rim.

—Quadrant R-7,— Dorja quickly got his bearin9

—That's right, captain,— I confirmed. —The system is formally loyal to Imperial Space, but every now and then it provides support to our enemies. Your goal is a mining complex on the western coast of the main continent. There, a substance known as hybridium is mined. Also, according to our intelligence, there are rebel groups operating on the planet, which is unacceptable. I instruct you to solve this problem.

—Of course, I will carry out the order,— Dorja said as if through clenched teeth. Oh, and he had an evil face. The commander of a star destroyer is sent to deal with some rebels... At a time when an operation against the rebels is being planned and there is a chance to distinguish yourself...

The problem also lies in the fact that Captain Dorja is a man who did not join my fleet of his own free will. He was sent here by the government of Imperial Space because of his quarrelsome character and his inability to remain silent when his superiors were unfair. Dismissing the commander of a Star Destroyer for such an offense is stupid. Kill —even more so. But it's easy to send him to someone who operates further away from Imperial Space. It was Dorja's character that led to the disagreement between him, Pellaeon and Thrawn in the events known to me. As a result, the combat commander was pushed back and did not really take part in Thrawn's campaign. Despite the fact that he is an objectively talented officer.

That's why I sent him to Garos IV. I need a hybridium for camouflage systems. Lots of hybridium. The presence of a rebel cell on the planet and a growing anti-imperial sentiment is interfering with supplies. Since Dorja is difficult, almost impossible, to use in a general deck, then let him serve where he is his own commander with broad powers. This should smooth out some of the mistrust between us and stroke his ego, proving that he is taken into account and valued. A small psychological trick designed for narcissistic people with a painful sense of their own greatness.

—The complex and the mineral it produces are a strategically important element of the plan to destroy the New Republic,— I said coldly. —We cannot allow someone incompetent to allow the enemy to deprive us of this planet.— I need a thinking officer there. And this is you. It directly depends on you and your actions, Captain Dorja, how quickly we can do this.

Having heard that he was an essential part of a big plan, Dorja didn't immediately believe it. But I thought about it. I definitely thought about it. Whether he regards this as a small concession on the part of the command or as a logical recognition of his merits is not so important now. We need a positive result. And I'm sure he will achieve it.

—I'm leaving immediately... Grand Admiral,— he said clearly, in accordance with the regulations, ending his conversation with a short nod.

It looks like there is progress. I could feel the difference in how Dorja began the dialogue with me and how he ended it. A small step towards a bright future and a comfortable working environment.

—Captain Pellaeon,— I turned to the commander of the Chimera. —Contact the commander of the Sentinel,— I voiced the name of one of the Interdictor-class star destroyers in the fleet, —send it on my behalf to the Chasin system to ensure the safety of the logistics traffic there.—

—Sir, but there is already a torpedo sphere and two frigates there,— the officer noted. — The whole "Interdictor" will...

—... it wouldn't be out of place if our acquaintance, the pirate Yazuo Vayne, tries to take possession of the ships located there,— I explained. —A Star Destroyer with gravitational funnel projectors and an experienced crew will discourage him from such a desire much faster.—

Plans are plans, but we shouldn't forget about the safety of the territories loyal to me. This pirate is a rather nimble and quick-witted guy. He might as well take a risk —it's not just that he came up with the legend about the Chasin system. At the very least, he was thinking about profiting from ships there. You shouldn't give him a chance for something like this.

—Captain, urgent message,— Lieutenant Tschel's voice came from behind. He turned his chair and looked at Pellaeon, who was studying the report.

—Sir, this is data on beacons on Myrkr,— he said, handing me the deck with the dispatch displayed on the screen like a jewel. — someone changed the standard signal...

«Hapspir», «barrini», «korbolan», «triaxis». And all this —I have to understand what it means?

—The codebreakers claim that this is a high-priority access code,— said Lieutenant , looking at me with curiosity.

—Is it really she? —Pellaeon said in amazement.

—Report to Nemesis,— I ordered, looking at Lieutenant . —Let it take our man from Myrkr.

—Yes, sir,— the lieutenant saluted and headed towards the communications compartment.

—Sir,— Pellaeon twirled his mustache. —Nemesis was supposed to participate in the operation in the Sluissi sector. Like "TheJudicator".

—I remember, captain —a logical answer to a logical question. — Our plans have been adjusted. The raid on the Sluissi sector is postponed... but not cancelled.

—Yes, sir,— Pellaeon answered cheerfully, doubt in his voice. — Should we inform Master C'baoth of our change of plans?

—No,— I forbade. — His task is to coordinate. He doesn't need to know about the plan's adjustments.

Gilad nodded silently. But his face expressed doubt. A wrinkled forehead, a concentrated gaze, averted to the side... Apparently, he clearly believed that sending an entire Star Destroyer after Mara Jade was a great waste.

—The Emperor's hand,— I said, tickling Ysalamiri's chin, —is a very valuable resource.— If she left Karrde, then her trust in him was undermined. And therefore, let's demonstrate to our guest that they are so happy to see her in the Empire that they use a Star Destroyer to deliver her to the meeting place.

—What if it's an ambush? —Pellaeon clarified. —What if she betrayed and lured us out?

—It's possible,— I agreed easily. —That's why the Nemesis is sent there, and not the Imperious, the Warlike, or one of the Strike-class cruisers.— An experienced crew and a sensible commander are what you need. Now, let's take a look at the past, captain...

***

Atmospheric turbulence mercilessly beat the X-wing, trying to throw it from side to side. Just like when Luke first arrived on Dagobah.

R2-D2 chirped and whistled excitedly, reporting that despite everything that was happening, the fighter was still intact and nothing had even fallen off. A good ship, strong.

It's no wonder that Wedge Antilles, the commander of Rogue Squadron, like Skywalker himself, loved the invention of the Incom corporation for its reliability.

That's just...

—R2-D2,— the Jedi turned to his astromech. — Are the scanners functioning normally?

The droid responded with an affirmative chirp.

Strange. And for the first time, the devices seemed to go crazy. However, if you think about it, maybe there is no mystery here. Simply, teacher Yoda tried to «blind» the ship's sensors so that the Force would lead the young Jedi to the desired swamp. After all, if not for a happy accident, how long would it have taken Skywalker to find both Yoda and his home? It's hard to even imagine.

And now there is no one to guide him along the right course. Yoda is no more... And Ben Kenobi is no more either...

Just like father...

Luke swallowed the lump in his throat, pushing away the wrong thoughts.

The awareness of loss and memories of the departed should not haunt him throughout his life. You cannot live in emotions —this is not the path of the Light Side of the Force. Even though he became a Jedi Knight, he still must not forget about self-control. Including learning to let go of the pain of the experience.

Ben did not cling to life, dissolving into the Force. Yoda left with peace of mind. Even my father was in some way glad that he was able to do a good deed. Even at the cost of his life.

This is the way of the Jedi —self-sacrifice. And there is nothing supernatural about this. Life and death are a natural order of things that should not be disturbed. And since the end of existence is provided for by the very laws of nature and the Force, who is he to even think that such a thing could be wrong?

The X-wing descended on an anti-gravity cushion, piercing dense clouds and the lower layers of the atmosphere with its body.

Luke used the Force to understand how suitable the surface beneath him was for landing. Adjusting his course so that the nose of the fighter was oriented directly towards Yoda's quarters, he was pleased to note how the landing gear touched down on a relatively hard surface. Everything is relative on Dagobah. Even the soil.

As soon as the canopy tilted back and the pilot took off his helmet, he felt the whole bouquet of Dagobah smells hit his nostrils.

Slightly rotten plants and the tart smell of the surrounding swamps. Distant sounds of forest and pond inhabitants, invisible in the fog. How familiar is this...

Memories of the time spent here came flooding back. Conversations with Yoda over dinner of a strange-smelling, but tasty and nutritious stew. The training was mentally and physically exhausting, so much so that in the evening he could barely move his legs or move his arms. But still he moved on foot through the forest with an infinitely wise teacher on his shoulders, who tirelessly repeated to him that fatigue was only in his head. That the Force helps him and gives him what he needs — he just needs to feel his body and everything that surrounds him correctly.

Luke jumped out of the cockpit, surprised by the hardness of the surface on which he landed his ship. Quite strange, considering that most of the surface of Dagobah is either swamps, or moist moss, intertwined tree trunks. Only near the cave could one find a relatively hard surface and...

Cave!

Luke jerked to the side, pressing his back against the body of the X-wing. How the lightsaber ended up in his hands, he still did not understand. But I felt something like Darkness coming from behind the stern of the ship. A very familiar feeling of the Dark Side.

He almost groaned. How, how did the force bring him here? And most importantly —why? He was in the cave after all. He learned the lesson that Yoda wanted to teach him and...

Or did he not learn it, and therefore the Force itself wants him to end up here?

Taking a few steps to the side, he grimaced as if he had a toothache.

Indeed, the stern of the cretowing was located exactly opposite the entrance to the cave where he had experienced a vision many years ago. A couple of tens of meters from the nozzles of the fusion engines a noticeable tree grew, like a furious and unshakable guard, guarding the entrance covered with a light haze of swamp fumes...

R2-D2 squeaked, puzzled.

—It's okay,— Luke assured him. —Just...

With a slight hiss, the astrodroid left the nest in the depths of the X-wing and rolled up to its owner —the faithful friend did not like to be left alone.

A distant, piercing cry of some bird was heard, completely knocking out all of Skywalker's arguments that spoke in favor of the fact that he was obliged to come here. How important and vital the journey to Dagobah seemed to him during the mission to Bimmisaari, during the flight. They sounded just as untenable here.

What made him think that the Force even wanted him to come to Dagobah?

Or was he simply looking for a kind of fulcrum to calm his inner feelings from the distortions in the Force that he felt?

Remembering that doubts lead to the Dark Side, Luke drove them away with an effort of will, trying to clear his mind.

—Do. Or do not..— That's what Yoda said. Even if Skywalker is wrong now, he still came. And the matter should be completed.

R2-D2 beeped questioningly and expectantly.

—It occurred to me that Yoda might have left behind some notes,— he said. —Like Ben, who left his diary with notes on Tatooine. Perhaps Yoda did the same, and there is something useful here that I missed during my last appearance here,— the droid whistled, offering to start the search from the home of the deceased teacher.

—Yes, you're right, buddy. Let's start with it.

The distance separating the X-wing's landing site and the ancient Jedi's habitat turned out to be relatively small. And Luke, invigorated by the proximity of the Dark Side, moved carefully, remembering how difficult it was for him in the first days of his apprenticeship.

One way or another, having almost fallen through the treacherously pliable moss a couple of times, the Jedi knight reached a squat hut, so familiar and... almost disappeared into the swamp.

The lush vegetation of Dagobah did not spare the building, falling on it with its entire mass, practically drowning the hut in the swamp and crushing it with its entire mass of vines, as well as curved tree trunks. How much has changed here in just a few years...

The quick-witted astromech took out a small sensor from its domed head. Luke just smiled.

—I think it won't hurt us if we look at everything with our own eyes,— he said, looking at his lightsaber.

I wonder if the Jedi of the past used their —weapons from a more civilized era— to clear their path? Or would he definitely shake his head in disapproval for such a thing?

It took only a few minutes to make our way through the bush and reach the ruins of the hut. Even in his last appearance, he noticed that most of the building was made of clay, but quite well, which was a compliment to its builder. Wondering if Yoda had built his home himself or if someone else had done it, Luke was finally able to crawl into the hut. Even before, it barely reached his waist, but now it seemed like a cramped closet filled with vegetation and luminescent moss.

After rummaging through the fragments of pottery and rotten pieces of wood that were once shelves and ceilings, Skywalker sadly stated that there was nothing valuable here. And if there was, it would have either drowned or been dragged away by local inhabitants a long time ago.

—There's nothing here,— he said, climbing out. —And it's unlikely that Yoda could have hidden anything.— He was not like that... He would rather give it away, realizing that it would be useful to me in the future. And if not...

R2-D2 beeped questioningly.

—No, buddy, I think not,— Luke chuckled. —However, you can try to look for something, since I didn't find anything in the hut, but I doubt there will be anything useful.— Yoda never owned high tech items. I even think that he didn't really like them for some reason of his own. Remember how he walked you with his cane when you tried to take the nutrition bar from him?

The droid hummed in confusion as it continued to rotate its sensor. Of course he remembered. You're unlikely to forget this —especially when you're hanging out in the pouring rain outside the hut, when the owner and the ancient green old man are basking in the warmth.

The droid suddenly froze in place, pointing its device towards the X-wing.

—Found? — Luke asked puzzledly, looking in the indicated direction. He thought for a few seconds, then a good-natured smile appeared on his face:

—Congratulations, R2-D2, you have discovered our X-wing. Only this time we didn't lose him...

The astromech chirped offendedly. Luke felt his ears begin to turn red from R2-D2's tirade.

—Sorry,— he muttered. —No, I don't think you have problems with electronics. Further than the ship? What could be there? There's only...

Cave.

While they were moving in the opposite direction, Luke thought that his little friend had made a mistake after all. So when R2-D2 rolled uncompromisingly behind the X-Wing, still pointing his sensor towards the cave, Luke swallowed hard at the sudden lump that had formed in his throat.

So, I was not mistaken.

—Are you sure?

The droid squeaked indignantly, declaring its professionalism. And in general, if a person doesn't like something, then he can calm down, stop shaking like a leaf in the wind and go check it in person. Which of the two is the Jedi, after all? And in general, all sorts of distrustful people grew up here...

—I believe you,— Luke said sadly, noticing that his right hand with a prosthetic instead of a hand was clutching the hilt of the lightsaber until the servos creaked. But the left one is actually shaking. An unpleasant feeling of your own growing panic. —But I don't think Yoda could have left anything there.— Not there. This place is full of the Dark Side of the Force, and Yoda, like me, is a Jedi. We serve the Light...

Probably, if he had eyes, R2-D2 would now roll them to the beat of his trill, the essence of which boiled down to the fact that it was not for nothing that Yoda chose a clearing close to the cave with the Dark Side of the Force as his place of exile.

—There is logic in your words, R2-D2,— Luke confirmed. —I thought about the same thing myself.— After all, positive and negative charges of electricity extinguish each other upon contact...

Astromech burst into a trill dedicated to eliminating the illiteracy of one individual boy from Tatooine.

—Okay, okay,— Luke didn't argue. —I'm a little on edge and made a reservation, of course there will be a short circuit...

He took a deep breath. He exhaled. I repeated the procedure again.

—I am a Jedi,— he repeated firmly to himself. — «Fear is the path to the dark side»

Heading towards the entrance to the cave, he took the comlink from his belt and turned it on.

—I'll be in touch, R2-D2,— he said. —Track my position and tell me when I'm near the object you discovered, okay?

The droid whistled.

—No, stay outside the cave,— Luke asked. —This is not a good place for droids.—

The feeling of cold, viscous, viscous, took him back in his memories to the time when he first approached the cave. Then he was scared and curious. Then he did not listen to Yoda and took a weapon with him. Maybe we should do the same now?

But he decided that there was no point in returning. After all, just because he has a lightsaber on him doesn't mean he has to use it.

Step by step he approached the place where the battle with the vision of Darth Vader had once taken place. A battle he lost. Although... has he ever defeated his father? Like a Jedi without giving in to anger?

Hard to tell. It is unknown what his dandyism would have led to when, on board the second Death Star, he threw aside his lightsaber, which is why he almost became a victim of Emperor Palpatine's lightning.

But this time nothing happened. There was no wheezing breath coming from the gloom; There was no Sith Lord. Nothing.

Skywalker stopped, looking around. It's strange that Yoda's hut was swallowed up by the jungle, but here everything is the same as it was before. The same tangled vines, the same twilight...

The young Jedi ran his hand over his face, relieving the tension. It looks like he was needlessly worried. He had already been tested by his fear. Whether he withstood it or not is history that cannot be changed. Yoda never said whether young Skywalker succeeded or failed. Or did he say it? But Luke just didn't understand it.

Or maybe Yoda himself didn't know? What if there are no categorical answers in the cave and everyone must decide the outcome for themselves and accept the consequences? Luke accepted them. Just as he accepted his imperfections, clearly realizing that he should in no case and never stop there. His father essentially destroyed the Jedi Order. Luke will have to create it again.

Sins of the fathers...

One way or another, there is nothing to be afraid of here anymore. He conquered his fears and will not allow them to get the better of him. The empty fear of something wrong, something that he could not understand, forced him, the only Jedi Knight in the entire galaxy, to rush headlong across thousands of light years in search of... What?

This is not what a Jedi should do. After all, he actually left Han and Leia alone. Chasing the ghost of who knows what...

It's time to end this.

And perhaps this search should not have started.

— R2-D2, are you still with me? —he asked.

The droid chirped affirmatively.

—Signal source,— Luke reminded. —Am I next to him?

The astromech droned a response, signaling that only a short time remained.

—Okay,— the Jedi decided. —I'll find it soon and let's finish the search.— I shouldn't have come here...

He did not have time to finish when he realized that the twilight of the cave had ceased to be so. Instead, shadows and fog began to form into something...

Luke felt his body being burned again by the merciless heat of the tattoo luminaries: Tatoo-1 and Tatoo-2.

He felt a push in his back. A very familiar poke. At the same time, he took a step forward towards the narrow metal «board» from which they intended to throw him... Nine years ago.

Luke looked around.

There could be no doubt. He again awaited his execution and the death of his loved ones on Tatooine at the Great Carkoon Failure, where they intended to feed them to the sarlacc.

He saw Jabba the Hutt's massive barge from which he watched the execution. I saw and felt the triumphantly malicious thoughts of his comrades. I saw the barely visible body of R2-D2, who was waiting for the signal to start...

—I know it's a vision,— Luke said calmly. —I have already passed this test. Nothing has changed since then.

But his words were drowned out in the hubbub of the cheering crowd. It was as if the Force itself was trying to make him understand that no one was interested in the young Jedi's opinion here. They wanted to show him something...

He felt a new push, the same one that pushed him down. Just like last time, he managed to turn around and catch the edge. A fairly simple movement of his hands, and he flies into the air, pointing his hands in the direction of his own lightsaber flying towards him...

But the palm squeezed only... nothing.

The weapon changed its flight path and returned to the barge. No matter how much Luke tried to summon the lightsaber to himself using the Force, nothing worked.

His sword ended up in the woman's hands. Luke didn't see her face, only her fiery mane of hair. And while he was looking at how she was waving at him with a mocking salute, a new shock threw him down. And him, and Han, and even Lando. Only Leia, chained, watched this picture with pain in her heart...

And darkness came. Luke shook his head in the hope of driving away the darkness, but in vain.

The darkness swirled, acquiring more and more new silhouettes.

Now he saw the same woman, dressed in a black combat suit that fitted her figure. The woman had her back to him, and her whole pose indicated that she was trying to remain independent, clearly contrasting herself with the one who was in front...

Luke went cold.

A massive chair with a high back. A figure sitting in the shadow of a piece of furniture. The feeling of the wrongness of everything that is happening, the feeling of unreality, as if all this is not true, is not happening to him.

But he continued to watch.

He saw a figure in white rise from his chair. Skywalker's heart was relieved. Thank the Force, it's not Palpatine. But... who is it then?

As in the case of the first vision, he did not see the faces. Only a bluish, almost blue tint to the face, red eyes... The red-haired woman waited patiently as this intelligent man in a white uniform told her something. Luke couldn't hear his speeches, couldn't see their faces...

He felt cold when he saw that the figure in white pulled his hand back, and then moved it in front of him, extending it to the woman...

Luke had a hard time swallowing the lump in his throat. No, it can not be. Can't be! This is not reality! It's just a vision...

The Jedi Knight panicked as he began to observe further fragments of images... A terrible mess... Blackness. It's like there's no longer a possible future. There is nothing at all.

And it was scary. Young Skywalker could not even imagine that this was even possible. And that he is lying to himself when he says that he has conquered his fears.

He did his best to deny what he saw. And apparently, he managed to break the shackles of vision.

He felt himself in the same place where he had been before the vision overtook him. He breathed quickly, inhaling the aromas of the Dagobah swamps. Large drops of sweat rolled down his face, and his flight suit stuck to his body, which is actually virtually impossible. He held the lightsaber in his hand, gripping it so tightly that it was as if he could even deform the hilt...

And from the comlink came the hysterical trill of the faithful R2-D2.

—I'm fine,— he said, not really trusting his words. —Everything is fine...

Skywalker paused, trying to collect his thoughts and remember what he was doing here after all.

—Signal,— he said, still unable to regain his breath. —I am close?

The astromech beeped affirmatively.

—Okay,— Luke wiped the sweat from his forehead with his palm. —I'm going forward. Stop me when I'm near.

He carefully moved on, still reflexively clutching the lightsaber in his hand. It feels as if the prosthesis is jammed and the mechanical fingers are unable to release the weapon.

However, nothing new happened. It seemed the force had shown him everything it wanted. And now he can finish what he came to Dagobah for.

Hearing a whistle from the comlink, Luke froze in place.

—Here? —He looked down at his feet. I looked around. He returned his gaze to his feet...

After a few minutes of picking through the dirt and rotting leaves, he pulled out a small cylinder. Slightly longer than the palm. Five triangular buttons lined up in a row. And an engraving clogged with dirt on the opposite side.

R2-D2 beeped in satisfaction, confirming that the hatch had found what it was looking for. The Jedi Knight shook his head. He was counting on something different. But even he couldn't formulate in his head exactly what.

—I'm coming back,— Luke said.

The return journey took much less time. And not because Skywalker wanted to leave this place as quickly as possible, but only because he did not get confused on the road and was attentive.

It got dark outside. Even the faint glow breaking through the haze of fog and clouds disappeared. It looks like he wasted a lot of time being in the grip of the vision. R2-D2 had already visited the X-wing nest and turned the ship with its nose towards the entrance of the cave. Luke climbed out, waving welcomingly at the astromech rolling towards him, emitting a series of excited whistles.

—Everything is fine,— Luke assured him, squatting down in front of his faithful friend and handing him the cylinder he had found. —What do you think this is?

The droid changed the color of its optical sensor several times, after which it began to whistle slowly, as if thoughtfully. Luke, quite tired in the cave, did not interrupt him, but was surprised to discover that moral exhaustion allowed him to understand the astromech perfectly.

—Sure? —he clarified when R2-D2 finished his tirade. —I've never seen Lando have such a thing.—

The droid burst into another trill.

—Okay,— Luke concluded. —I was busy, you were busy. Let's get you back to your place and get out of here. Let's go visit Calrissian —he once invited me.

He took one last look at the cave. There was no reason left to linger here.

Allowing R2-D2 to carry out pre-flight preparations and launch the ship into orbit around Dagobah left him feeling mentally drained. It was as if the cave had squeezed all the juice out of him.

The Astromech hummed questioningly.

—The Athega system,— he named the place of their new journey. — Lando has settled on the planet Nklonn, mining metals there that the New Republic cannot afford to purchase, given the appetites and price tags set by Calrissian. If possible,— he hesitated, —could you handle it yourself?— I need to get some rest.

The droid chirped affirmatively. Grateful to him, Luke settled comfortably in his chair to enjoy the transition to the speed with which the X-wing broke the light barrier.

Despite R2-D2's promise, he couldn't sleep, his thoughts returning to what he saw in the cave.

Surprisingly, this is exactly what helped him fall into a restless sleep.

***

—Are you familiar with this planet, Captain Pellaeon?— I asked, pointing to the holographic ball circling above the projector.

—Hypori,— the Chimera commander said unmistakably. — One of the worlds of the Confederacy, their logistics base. Little known, unlike Saleucami, which was called the «Triad of Evil» during the Clone Wars. Along with Mygeeto and Felucia.

—That's right,— I confirmed. —And it was also once a stronghold of the mechanized forces of the army of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. You remember how effective their armies were, right?

—One clone trooper could destroy ten to a hundred Confederate battle droids in a battle,— Pellaeon grinned. —Is this efficiency?

—Efficiency,— I disagreed. —Remind me, how much does one clone soldier cost?

Pellaeon smoothed his bushy mustache.

—I don't know this information, sir,— he said. —But I think it's not a little, since the Senate of the Old Republic constantly tried to reduce the amount of spending on purchasing clones. It's so in the spirit of democracy to shoot yourself in the foot and pretend that you can live with a hole in your thigh.

—Let's leave aside the positions of the senators and think about something else,— I suggested. — How effectively were the separatist droid production lines destroyed after the war?

—Considering that we were finishing off the Separatists for ten years after the announcement of the end of the Clone Wars, I'm not sure that everything was done well,— Gilad said.

—I have the same opinion, but I know for sure that after the reformation of the Republic into the Empire was proclaimed, some fragments of the separatist heritage remained in the active. —And it is also known that after the Battle of Yavin nine years ago, Tiber Zann, the head of the criminal syndicate Zann Consortium, was able to discover and launch at least one conveyor belt for the production of Separatist droids. And not ordinary infantry droids, but droidekas.

—I heard about this organization,— Pellaeon admitted. —They frolicked quite well in the period after the Battle of Endor.— Half the galaxy was shrouded in their corrupt networks. Now, it seems, their influence has been weakened. At least, their ships no longer fly around the galaxy that way.

—Well, let's look at this from a different angle,— I suggested. —We have cloning cylinders and there are donors for them. But we have a problem with providing our clones with uniforms and equipment. Therefore, it will be easier to go back twenty-eight years ago. When the Imperial Stormtroopers first formed, they actively used droidekas and a number of other Separatist droids to bolster their firepower. Building droids is easier and cheaper than waiting six months for new fighters to be trained on Carida.

—But we have Spaarti cloning cylinders,— Pellaeon reminded.

—Of course,— I agreed. —And insufficient funding, not to mention supplies.— Therefore, we will first of all take care of the technical, flight and naval components of our forces. We have some part of the assault armor in warehouses in Imperial Space —and we will borrow it. But not before we strike at Sluis Van and achieve a resounding victory over the rebels in this sector.

Pellaeon's face clearly read: —So, never? Considering you're sending out Star Destroyers as courier ships.—

—Patience, captain,— I advised. —First, we will take Hypori and gain a foothold on the planet.

—So maybe we can immediately strike at Geonosis? — Impatience was heard in the voice of the Star Destroyer commander. —The natives there certainly know how to produce all kinds of battle droids.—

—Again, let's look at history, captain,— I sighed. No, absolutely, you should work on self-education of your subordinates. Okay, I —it is vital for me to study the military chronicle of the past in order to find threads that everyone has long forgotten about and accumulate my own military experience —albeit theoretical. But they... Pellaeon went through the entire Clone Wars —he must know part of the history of this three-year war personally, and part —from rumors and gossip. Yes, after all, these basics should be taught in academies! There are refresher courses! Yes, I know for sure, I watched them. So why is self-development so difficult? It is clear that evolving is an unforgivable mistake in the life of every bacterium, but we are intelligent. We must use what we have —including our brains. An opinion is beginning to emerge that Thrawn is not a genius of military art in his own right, but a simple, sane, reasonable person who saw prospects where others, for some of their personal inner convictions, tried their best to appear blind. — Several years ago, Geonosis began to preach a policy of isolationism, seeing that the Empire was collapsing into the Shards. The rebels helped them resist us, and I am sure that none of the Democrats on Coruscant will hesitate to send a more or less strong fleet to deal with us, and also to demonstrate to the Geonosians how important they are to the rebels. The result will be the same —even if we capture Geonosis, we will lose it before we can get what we want. But at the same time, it will become clear to the enemy what exactly we want and how exactly we want to achieve it. No, captain, Hypori is an excellent target for our mission. A lonely, abandoned world, the surface and catacombs of which will provide us with indescribable support in restoring the Empire.

—I don't understand,— Pellaeon finally gave in. —You wanted to carry out an attack on the systems of the Sluissi sector in order to test the enemy's defenses before the assault on Sluis Van.— Why adjust the plan during its execution?

Because I want to live. For a long time, in comfort, preferably at the head of a small but well-functioning state, far from the problems of all its enemies and, even more so, not standing in the way of conquerors from a distant galaxy.

I remember the name of the planet where they will appear. I found it in the navigation directory. Helska system. The very outskirts of the galaxy. And the —backyard— of the Imperial Remnant. And if so, then this region will burn very strongly. Thank you, but I'd rather stay away from such events.

Just as I would prefer not to fall into the hands of Palpatine. And not give him a crumb of what I can somehow conquer and subjugate.

—Plans tend to change, captain,— I stated evenly. —And you don't have to understand the plan to execute it.— This is the first. Second, if you really want to, let's tickle the nerves of the rebels in the Sluissi sector. —Hearing this, Pellaeon became dignified, ready to hear what his heart was asking for. —On my behalf, give the order to the cruisers "inflictor", "Sharp" and "Prudent": to head one at a time to the star systems of Bpfassh, Intonn and Ordo. In advance of arriving at the destination, inform about your readiness. In the first two, discover and localize the location of enemy bases, in the third, raid warehouses of ore ready for shipment from the mines. Keep detailed records in the ship's log. Do not engage in battle with superior enemy forces. That's all.

—Sir, not a single Strike-class cruiser will be able to push through the defenses of any enemy ground base without support,— Pellaeon noted cautiously.

—They don't need it,— I said calmly. — Tell the remaining star destroyers —let them prepare for the campaign. We're leaving in two hours.

— We will send the linear forces of the fleet as a second echelon to distract the enemy to the cruisers, and we ourselves will destroy the rebel bases? — the Chimera commander asked hopefully.

—Exactly,— I agreed with a sigh. —Since we are raising an army of clones, captain, we need to take care of protecting ourselves. And your rear. Order the ysalamiri to be loaded onto the surface —we won't need them on this trip. Except one.

Now I understand why Thrawn was babysitting Pellaeon. It seems there is simply no one smarter around him. With the exception of those who somehow came into confrontation with the Grand Admiral himself. I'll have to check Pellaeon himself for loyalty to my orders. He has the potential for development and independent efficiency. But for too long he was in the shadow of luckier and smarter commanders. Following orders is important. But more importantly, this must be done with intelligence and ingenuity.

Even if the captain is wrong, now he is... right. However, he is still wrong.