Chapter 4. Ambiguous decisions (I)

Nine years, four months and twenty-five days after the Battle of Yavin...

Or forty-fourth year, four months and twenty-five days after the Great Resynchronization.

"Sir," Captain Pellaeon addressed the Grand Admiral, who was buttoning up his snow-white jacket in the cabin of the Lambda-class shuttle, the only one that left the Chimera's main hangar, descending into the planet's atmosphere. "If the Emperor himself sent a Guardian to the planet, then it's not clear to me..."

** Planet Wayland **

 "...why might we have problems?" I clarified, looking at two squads of stormtroopers located further in the compartment. Next to each of them, there is a cage with ysalamiri on the deck... And, my God, no one seems to realize that droppings need to be removed from the cages. What a stench...

We'll have to pay attention to this. Otherwise, the little animals will completely pollute everything that ends up in the affected area of their intestines.

The commander of the Star Destroyer nodded affirmatively, shivering from the discomfort that the light armor worn under his jacket caused him.

"Like the cuirasses you and I put on, the ysalamiri are nothing more than precautionary measures, captain," I explained. "Almost six years have passed since anyone has been here. I doubt that anyone had a direct connection with Weyland. It is also unlikely that he has the opportunity to leave the planet—such a miscalculation threatens the very secrecy of Emperor Palpatine's treasury. From which we conclude that the Guardian has been in information isolation all this time. It is not clear what ideas he is moving now."

"So maybe we don't need him at all?" the captain offered a different point of view.

"Unfortunately, this is not so," a slight rocking motion followed the ship during its smooth descent from orbit. Entry into the atmosphere caused some turbulence, but nothing critical. "After the Emperor's death, the efficiency and coordination of our troops dropped significantly. Considering how many people we lost during this time, while the military leaders were squabbling among themselves, the dry residue does not cause optimism."

"Yes," Pellaeon agreed. "The quality of new personnel... is not the highest."

"An interesting fact, considering that the cadets and cadets are trained in the same programs and by the same mentors as before, during the heyday of the Empire," I said. The captain gave me a cautious look.

"Most of the educational institutions of the Empire are under the control of the enemy or have gone over to his side," he recalled. "And those that remain..."

"...not the best?" I said with a smile. Pellaeon, thinking, nodded silently.

"Only Carida remained the same," he said. "Schools in Imperial Space... In general, I am somewhat biased towards the level of competence of their teachers."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I see the result," he sighed, looking sadly out the window, through which the clouds surrounding Weyland flashed. "You don't have to look far for an example. Lieutenant Tschel..."

"And what's wrong with him?" I continued to inquire, realizing that after voicing the name Pellaeon hesitated, following the provisions of the Charter and not discussing his subordinates. Because it was precisely his duties, as the commander of a warship, to either be satisfied with what he had or to take measures to improve the qualifications or replace the young officer.

"Sir, I..."

"You can speak freely, captain," I allowed. "I'm interested in your opinion."

"Most of my subordinates are outspoken youths," said Pellaeon. "Their level of knowledge may not be bad, but the lack of long-term practice in conditions close to combat, on board ships of classes lower than a Star Destroyer... And now... They only need to complete training courses and the Imperial Ruling Council is already pushing them into any vacant position place. Despite the fact that they are simply not trained in practical work in the field..."

"Your remark is partly correct, captain," I remarked. "But the question of assessing reasonable people and their actions is always a complex of reasons leading to one or another result. You cannot teach something to a person, or even to any other intelligent person. You can only learn. And the desire to improve oneself arises only if there is proper motivation. You noted absolutely correctly—now even a simple person from the lower classes who has graduated from an educational institution can get on board a Star Destroyer. And six years ago, it was even impossible to think about it. The best thing that awaited yesterday's cadet was a patrol tank somewhere in the Outer Rim. Unless it is of particular value to our armed forces."

"Or he didn't come from a noble family," Pellaeon snorted. He himself rose from the ranks, and therefore at his age he is just the commander of a Star Destroyer. And even then, he became one only because of the death of the previous one during the Battle of Endor. And now he has been commander of the Chimera for five and a half years. And the place of the senior assistant, whose position Gilad had held before the ill-fated battle, was currently empty.

However, hand on heart, remembering everything that was read in books on the Expanded Universe about this character—Pellaeon is not very good as a commander. Maybe that's why Thrawn used him as something like a chief of staff?

However, I have no doubt that under the current conditions Pellaeon will give me such a head start that I will only have to swallow the dust and modestly keep quiet in a rag.

"Let's not ignore this fact either," I easily agreed. Contradicting facts is hard. In the Galactic Empire, many officers—mostly high-ranking ones—took their places only by right of birth. Palpatine relied on industrialists and aristocrats, and therefore provided them with certain preferences.

"So they have no motivation," Pellaeon sighed. "For us, imperials of the old school, to serve is a duty, an honor, a way of life and thinking. For them, it's just work."

"Lack of victories can demoralize anyone," I noted. "After all, you yourself expected that our meeting with the enemy in the Obroa-skai system would result in defeat for the rebels."

"Yes," Pellaeon did not prevaricate. "But I understand perfectly well that a lone Star Destroyer, and even with an inexperienced crew, is actually a gift for the rebels. However..."

"Would you like a small miracle?" I smiled, looking into the eyes of the Chimera commander.

Pellaeon nodded his head dejectedly.

"A victory could boost the morale of our troops," he noted.

"Victory, yes," I agreed. "But a miracle... There are no miracles. The Empire will not be saved by mystical knowledge and faith in the Force, as it helps the rebels. But," I emphasized, seeing how sad Pellaeon looked, "this does not mean that we cannot use their tricks for our own purposes."

"How?" the Imperial was surprised.

"You see, captain," I said. "The fact is that the Guardian of Mount Tantiss on Weyland is a Force-sensitive sentient."

"I guessed it," Pellaeon smiled into his mustache. "It's not for nothing that we bring these lizards with us," he pointed to the cages with ysalamiri, resting near the feet of the stormtroopers clad in snow-white armor. "But I still think it's unlikely."

"It's commendable that you don't overlook little things," I remarked. "However, the secrets of Mount Tantiss are so significant that there is no other suitable candidate for this post."

"There was an outpost here," Pellaeon reminded. "They could have stationed a corps of stormtroopers, equipped with the latest technology."

"How much did we detect from orbit with the Chimera's scanners?" I asked.

"Nothing," the Star Destroyer commander said firmly.

"And if there were at least some infantry units on the planet, we wouldn't have such problems," I reminded. "Any unshielded electronics can be easily tracked from a Star Destroyer. Therefore, we achieved nothing by conventional means. We'll have to negotiate on the spot."

"So I understand," Pellaeon again pointed towards the stormtroopers, "if the Guardian does not agree to mutually beneficial cooperation, we will force him? Or should we get rid of it?"

"The Jedi's enemies are quite difficult to keep in check," I noted. "They strive to rise to the heights of power, crushing everyone around them. This is their nature. But at the same time, their abilities, unnatural for most intelligent people, can serve us well. Again."

"Again?" asked Pellaeon.

"Yes," I nodded.

"May I know what exactly you mean?" he clarified, obviously consumed by curiosity.

A very slippery moment. Because Palpatine's true nature was known to very, very few people in the Empire. For the public manifestation of the Dark Side and the Force, the Galactic Empire had Darth Vader on its side. Palpatine himself acted from the shadows, not particularly advertising his talents to everyone.

"In due time, captain," I preferred to postpone the conversation until a more convenient moment. "I would like you to find the answer to your question yourself."

Pellaeon fell silent, watching as clearly visible landscapes of a planet filled with greenery appeared overboard.

"What if the Guardian refuses to assist us?" he clarified. "Or will he even consider that he is capable of ruling the Empire himself instead of anyone else? You yourself said that the non-Jedi are very unpredictable."

I looked at the next chair, where the one and only sullen bodyguard sat silently.

"If he doesn't want to obey, we'll force him," I said. "Rukh is competent enough to remind any ally of the Empire of his place in the galactic food chain. And as for claims to power... Well, we have ysalamiri to neutralize, we have a whole fleet, there are Noghri, there are stormtroopers, in the end. One way or another, the Guardian will serve the cause of the Empire under my command. Or he will die.