Chapter 12 — ...to each according to his need

Another chapter translated. Enjoy :)

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

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

—In fifteen minutes we will be in the Tangrene system, Grand Admiral,— said Captain Pellaeon, who approached me.

Sitting in a chair on the bridge of the Chimera, I watched the numerous white and blue lights of hyperspace flicker before my eyes, stroking Ysalamiri, who was comfortably nestled in my arms.

—I understand you, captain,— I said in a calm tone. — Have you received a response from the Red Dragon?

—No, sir,— answered Pellaeon.

—Is that so? — I raised an eyebrow. —Curious. Responses from the commanders of other ships?

—None, sir,— Gilad declared. — Complete ignoring of requests sent by us. There is also no response from the Moff of the Morshdine sector.

—Continue to maintain the yellow alert level,— I ordered. and send someone to our dear friend the Jedi Master. Have him report to the bridge.

—Yes, sir,— Pellaeon responded.

So we fly — satisfied with ourselves, beaten, with a caravan of trophies behind us, not knowing what awaits us ahead. A dangerous combination, considering that I am the head of this «company of interests». A man in the body of a Chiss, trying his best, but not nearly matching the aura of the great commander Grand Admiral Thrawn.

Well, we can only hope that one of two things happens. Option for the development of events «Number One» —the Ubiqtorate will not try to grind us into powder in order to show who is in charge here. After all, the command of Imperial Intelligence and other intelligence agencies in Imperial Space are not idiots. They will not put their foot down because of my demands on the ships of their fleet. The Ubiqtorate has always been concerned with the good of the Empire. And organizing a public inter-imperial slaughter of some forces loyal to the Empire against others is not their style. That's what I was counting on when I gave Pellaeon the order for ships based on Tangrene. The Ubiqtorate will not risk open confrontation. They will most likely send someone higher than a simple coordinator to come to an agreement.

Option «Number Two». Now we will fly into Tangrene's orbit, and the ships of the fleet and everything, everything, everything they have are already waiting for us. And the meat grinder begins. In which, at the moment, given my still weak competence in the affairs of the space military fleet and the numerical advantage of the enemy, the only trump card is the notorious C'baoth. Rukh reported half an hour ago that the master was seen wandering around the residential compartments of the Chimera. Accordingly, the old boletus came to his senses. And if necessary, he will be able to provide us with all possible support. In a «battered fleet with trophies supported by the Battle Meditation of a crazy Jedi clone» versus «first-class Imperial military on ships with experienced crews» I would say that our chances are at least equal. At the most, I have more confidence that events will take place according to option «Number One».

—I am not your obedient puppet, Grand Admiral,— came the loud, but slightly shrill voice of the previously mentioned Jedi Master, who appeared from the Chimera's turbolift. — And I don't have to appear at your first request, like a naughty padawan!

There was silence in the control room. The naked challenge that the clone threw at me cannot go unnoticed. I need C'baoth to coordinate the military, whose professionalism has suffered greatly. But he must not be allowed to cross the boundaries of what is permitted especially in the presence of my subordinates. This undermines, first of all, my own authority. And this is unacceptable.

Turning the chair towards C'baoth, who was walking towards me, I fixed my gaze on his eyes. Simple human eyes sparkling with madness. I noticed how tense Rukh was, squatting a few meters away from me, in the shadow of the bulkhead.

—Master C'baoth,— I greeted the «dear guest». —I'm glad you accepted my offer to join me on the bridge. However, I find that you have been too hot-tempered lately.

The clone came close to me, looking down on me, as if pressing me with the authority of his senile carcass.

—Where is my Jedi, Grand Admiral? —Hissing, like a creeping poisonous reptile, he demanded. —I helped you in the Dafilvean sector! Where. My. Jedi.

—You don't need to try to practice your commanding tone on me, Master,— I calmly noted. —I'm not your student. And you are not my master. We are partners. And don't forget about it. Once again you will try to undermine my authority by addressing me with inappropriate intonations...

—What will you do, Admiral? — the Jedi Master laughed caustically into his beard. —I was in the minds of your people. My one wish and I will take control of your entire team!

But this is already unforgivable.

—Well, go ahead, Jedi Master,— I said easily in the same indifferent tone, as if my veins were not shaking from the mere prospects of such actions. —Your control requires immobility. As well as great physical and mental strength, which makes you defenseless. In the time it takes for you to fall into your meditative trance, Captain Pellaeon,— Gilad, standing next to my chair, swallowed tensely, — will have time to go to the nearest arsenal five times to get his service weapon and shoot you like an old bantha. But he will not kill you — instead, he will shoot your arms and legs so that the pain will not allow you to continue to interfere with my plans. And after this, we will throw you out of the emergency airlock closest to the control room. Captain Pellaeon,— I turned to the commander of the Chimera. — What do you think will happen to a person who finds himself outside a spaceship in hyperspace?

—We don't know for sure, sir,— Gilad did not let me down. —But I'm sure that his suffering will be many times greater than if he had left aboard my Star Destroyer, intending to walk in a vacuum without a spacesuit.

C'baoth's fighting spirit instantly vanished. The old man clearly panicked, frantically searching for the talisman hanging on his chest. And only after he was in his hands did the clone feel safe.

—You won't do this,— he told me confidently. —You need me to coordinate your ineptitude! Without me, all your plans to restore the Empire will go to waste.

—You're wrong, C'baoth,— I said firmly. —Without you, my plans will only be briefly delayed by the need to conduct more exercises with ship crews. But you won't be able to rip them off. You are not in your domain to behave as you please. You are on board a ship that is subordinate to me. And you are not allowed to behave arrogantly towards any of my subordinates. Therefore, I offer you a choice —either you control yourself and behave like an ally, or a gateway, a vacuum and not the most pleasant impressions of your body cooling in interstellar space.

The old man was silent, chewing his lips. He did this furiously, knowing full well that he had been given an ultimatum. His behavior is unacceptable. And they just made it clear to him.

—Okay,— he finally said. —I'm not a fool, admiral, I understood your words.

—If you were a fool, you wouldn't understand,— I confirmed. —Let's assume that you still remember good manners and behave accordingly. After all, you are the leader of the future Jedi Order. And they will judge by you what exactly the new defenders of the galaxy will be like. Remind you what happened to arrogant snobs who have no respect for anyone but themselves?

Of course I was exaggerating. The popular opinion about the Jedi, formed by the Imperials over the past quarter of a century, was so exaggerated that even he himself felt a little sick. No, I respect the Jedi. Jedi of the past. Yes, they had their mistakes, but overall they were generally good guys. For the most part. But for some reason this particular subject survived.

—I remember the history of the Jedi Order very well,— C'baoth snorted. Judging by the contempt with which he spoke about «his» brothers, his brain was clearly filled with imperial propaganda. Or did he hold such views even before his cloning? —So why did you need me?

—First of all, to inform you that my plan regarding Corran Horn has begun its implementation. Our spies report that he, as part of Rogue Squadron, is heading to the Dafilvean sector to investigate everything that happened there.

Information obtained through the actions of Source Delta. As well as a number of other, undoubtedly important information. There is absolutely no need for anyone else but me to know about them.

—Great,— C'Baoth smiled. —So you will soon deliver him to me?

—Patience, my dear ally,— I asked. —First, we need to weave a suitable web of tracks that Horn will follow to meet you.

—Then why am I here? — the Jedi Master asked with a bit of irritation.

—We are arriving in the Tangrene system,— I explained. —The local command probably decided to come into conflict with me. If push comes to shove, I would like you to help our troops through your coordination.

—Starting a small civil war, Grand Admiral? — The Jedi clone flashed his eyes.

—I intend to avoid it with all my might,— I said. —But if they leave me no other choice...

—I understand you,— he said, looking around in the control room. — Can I sit somewhere comfortably? The past use of Battle Meditation had not been particularly pleasant.

—Of course,— I said. —Captain Pellaeon, find a more comfortable chair for our dear ally.

—Yes, sir,— the Chimera commander said cheerfully.

Having got a completely comfortable chair at his disposal, the Jedi Master sat down in it, fidgeted, making himself more comfortable, after which, folding his arms on his chest, he seemed to doze off.

— Sir,— Pellaeon said quietly, leaning towards my ears — are you sure that this... reasonable one will continue to comply with the terms of the agreements?

—You can't be sure of anything in this galaxy,— I said. —Especially in the dark Jedi.

Having stroked the ysalamiri, he added, taking advantage of the fact that C'baoth could not physically hear us, and he could not achieve any result with the help of the Force due to the blocking of his abilities:

—We need him—for a while. After that, let's get rid of it and won't waste any more time.

as you order, sir,— replied the commander of the Chimera. —Thirty seconds until exiting hyperspace.

—Excellent,— I replied. —Make sure everything is ready to meet your dear allies.

After a measured number of seconds, when the hyperspace tunnel disintegrated into strips of light drawn into the sparkles of stars, I realized that all this time I had been sitting holding my breath.

And only after hearing Pellaeon's report, he carefully allowed himself to exhale. It looks like the Ubiqtorate chose the third option for the development of events, which was not foreseen by me.

They fled, abandoning Tangrene.

I calmly listened to the report of the Chimera commander.

— The jump is completed. All ships of the fleet arrived in the system, no lost or stragglers were found,— he said. Yes, despite the fact that the galaxy has been using hyperdrives for many thousands of years, there are still cases of the loss of one or two ships during such long transitions across dozens of sectors. Someone will go off course due to a breakdown of the navigation engine, someone due to overlays in the hyperdrive... The reasons can be completely different. But the fact remains that today we have arrived at our goal. All. And even in one piece. — A Star Destroyer of the Victory I type, Crusader, was recorded in orbit. Captain I-Gor sent us a greeting message and congratulates us on our victory in the Dafilvean sector.

«Is it true?»I chuckled mentally. Interesting...

—Contact Captain I-Gor,— I ordered. —In three hours I'm expecting him on board the Chimera. Send an invitation to the Moff for a meeting in... — quickly calculated in mind how much time it would take to organize things and collect information about what happened here —two hours.

Not a single ship, with the exception of a few very ridiculous orbital boats, which cannot be detained even by an armed freighter. And where did the «wealth» that I was counting on go?!

—They are broadcasting a message from the shipyard that they are ready to accept damaged ships,— Pellaeon continued to read out the summary of reports.

—Make arrangements about this,— I ordered. —Only dock those ships that we cannot repair without this. For the rest, set aside an orbital patrol schedule. Send spy droids throughout the Tangrene system and those closest to it. We need complete control over everything that happens here.

—Sir,— Pellaeon said carefully. —The Ubiqtorate may not understand the reasons for our actions and...

—The Ubiqtorate will not do anything against what we will do in Tangrene,— I voiced my assumptions. —Don't you see, captain? The fleet left orbit. Most likely immediately after I demanded that they actually join our operations.

— And that means... Pellaeon began to guess.

—This means that Imperial Intelligence has made its move,— I sighed. —Rejoice, captain. One less headache.

Only one expression could be read on the face of the Chimera commander: «Or more?»

—Sir,— Lieutenant Tschel approached Pellaeon. — A Lambda-class shuttle is approaching the Chimera. They transmit Imperial Intelligence identification codes. The codes are valid. What will the orders be?

Pellaeon looked at me expectantly.

— Allow them to land,— was my order. —Remove all personnel from the hangar and send a company of attack aircraft there. Disarm guests and take them under guard. The senior on their mission is to be delivered to the flight crew briefing room. Do it, Lieutenant !

—Yes, sir! —the young Imperial blurted out with youthful enthusiasm and rushed to the console to convey my orders on command.

—Let's go, captain,— I ordered. —Let's see what the renegades from Imperial Intelligence want to talk to us about.

Rising from the chair, holding Ysalamiri in his arms, he headed towards the exit.

Passing by C'baoth, who was sitting in the same position, he chuckled mentally.

The old clone man was sleeping in a chair, smiling blissfully.

***

—Your cabin, Mrs. Jade,— the commander of the Nemesis pointed the red-haired beauty to the captain's apartment.

as far as I remember, this part of the residential section belongs to the commander of an imperial star destroyer,— Mara Jade said doubtfully, glancing briefly at the four stormtroopers clad in snow-white armor standing behind the Nemesis commander. —Or, Captain Von Schneider, do you think that I would be less comfortable somewhere in a free cabin?

Commander of ISD-1 "Nemesis" Captain Von Schneider

—I think that it would be more comfortable for such a distinguished guest to wait out our flight to the base in the captain's cabin,— the officer answered dryly.

— and also because it is the easiest to guard,— Mara realized. Having estimated the plan of the residential part of the superstructure of the Imperial Star Destroyer, she realized that her memory was not failing her. In fact, there is only one way from here —through the main entrance. And here the «boys in white» will stand. They also have cells with ysalamiri in stock. It seems that Thrawn, in his favorite measure, is insuring a plan with a plan within a plan.

Or he doesn't fully trust her. However, if she were in the place of the Grand Admiral and faced with a similar situation —the return of the Emperor's Hand —she would also take several precautions. You never know what can be expected from someone who for more than five years pretended that she never existed, and even collaborated with smugglers who associate with the enemies of the Empire.

—Thank you for your kind words, Captain Schneider,— she grinned. —So I understand that you won't tell me the places where we are flying?

—I don't have that opportunity, Ms. Jade,— the officer admitted. —I apologize, but that's the order.

Whose exactly —no need to specify. There are not many ranks and people in the Empire who can give the order to the commander of a Star Destroyer to fly across half the galaxy after one single person. But Thrawn had similar powers.

However, she could satisfy her curiosity in a completely different way. You just need to be alone and find any console.

—But can I at least ask when we are leaving? she asked.

—In fifteen minutes,— the ship's commander stunned her.

—Like this? — the girl was unusual in feeling like she was not understanding. aren't you going to pick up the cargo left at the base?

—No, Mrs. Jade,— Von Schneider answered just as simply.

—Well, actually, this database and its contents were presented to me as «compensation» when I left my last job,— she narrowed her eyes. —You can say that this is my personal property. Which I would like to present to the Grand Admiral as a contribution to our future common cause.

— As you say, Mrs. Jade,— the Nemesis commander was clearly bored of having casual conversations with her. —But not a single item will be brought aboard my Star Destroyer before it has been searched by our specialists.

—But... are they really afraid that there might be surveillance equipment or bombs somewhere in these boxes? However, something similar cannot be ruled out during her stay on the planet Myrkr, she did not have time to completely search everything that she got. Talon "Claw" Karrde, if in some ways is inferior to Thrawn in the field of intelligence and tactical skill, is not at all by much. Therefore, it would be a good idea to actually scan and double-check the things left on the planet before dragging them to Thrawn's secret lair. It seems she has not yet moved away from the concept that the Talon can be trusted. Well, she will cope with this quite quickly —definitely before the end of the flight.

—That is the order, Mistress Jade,— Von Schneider said in an icy tone. —If you are finished with your questions, miss, please go to your cabin and stay there until the end of the flight. These stormtroopers,— he nodded towards the four fighters, —will guard the entrance to the cabin so that none of the crew members could even accidentally meet you.

«Uh-huh»,— gloomy thoughts swirled in Mara's head. «At first they brought me on board in a black cassock so that there was no way to find out, now they are putting me under lock and key, seemingly for a good purpose. And what's next? Will the transmitter be implanted under her skin? Or a radioactive tag to make it easier to track?»

—I understand everything perfectly, Captain Schneider,— the girl easily turned towards the door. The metal plate with a slight hiss went into a groove inside the wall, allowing the red-haired beauty inside the apartment that once belonged to the captain. —I hope I don't have to bother you with requests.

—I would be grateful to you for that, Mrs. Jade,— the officer saluted her, turned sharply on his heels and walked away.

The girl chuckled and gave the stormtroopers an intelligible and appraising look. Four fighters rewarded her with a completely neutral turn of the head in her direction. Not the slightest desire to fall to your knees and confess your sins, or stand at attention! so that it is possible to measure the position of their bodies using measuring instruments, as is done by instructors on Carida...

Yeah. The Empire may have remained the same, but the role and powers of the Emperor's Hand in it have already been forgotten. Otherwise, even with a priority order, Von Schneider would not have decided to simply put her under arrest for the duration of the flight. However, what powers of the Emperor's Hand can we talk about if the Emperor himself is no longer alive? All that remains is to yearn for the past, indulging in memories during the flight...

Well, we can figure it out in a few minutes. All that remained was to find the console, and through it, using several special codes that allowed the Emperor's agents to directly influence the central computer in order to obtain the necessary information.

Actually, something like this should have happened now, but...

Mara looked ironically at the terminal installed in the captain's cabin. I pressed the buttons in the hope that the device would come to life. Just like the first time, nothing happened.

The girl grinned. Simple, but tasteful.

Either Thrawn could have guessed something, and therefore isolated her where there was not the slightest way to get to the ship's electronics, or Captain Von Schneider himself took this initiative.

One way or another, she was explicitly asked to mind her own business and rest peacefully until the Nemesis delivered her to her goal.

Well, first you should try other ways to restore the panel. If that doesn't work, then yes, of course, she will stop taking the Imperial Star Destroyer apart piece by piece. But this failure will leave her with even more questions for Thrawn.

Sighing, the girl pulled out a thin metal needle from the stand-up collar of her overalls and began to poke around with it in the technical hatch of the non-working panel.

***

There it is...

I looked at the relatively young man sitting opposite me.

Sergius, as he introduced himself. Ubiqtorate coordinator in the Morshdine sector.

In the recent past, he was an Imperial Intelligence operative.

And now he offers me his help. At the same time, sharing the secrets of their bosses.

And the secrets, I must say, are not the simplest.

—So, the Ubiqtorate has gone over to the side of Grand Moff Ardus Kaine,— I summed up everything that had been said, without taking my eyes off the young man. He just nodded affirmatively. He is a man of few words, I must give him his due.

And also concentrated, tense within reason, and not for a second trying to stop trying to analyze me. Dangerous intelligent. With him, like with everyone else, you will have to keep your eyes open. Temporarily or permanently is a separate question.

—Thank you, Bravo-2, for your detailed story,— I said slowly.

And I really don't like what's happening. If the leadership of all intelligence organizations in Imperial space, without exception, decided to choose the Grand Moff as their favorite, then they are not my helpers. Although I should give it my due the Ubiqtorate, although it «handled me», left a lot of useful things.

A whole legion of stormtroopers on the surface of Tangrene. And this is already a lot at least one of the fifteen garrisons remained in place. And... this is not enough to protect the planet in the event of a full-scale attack followed by a landing.

Insanely little, considering the fact how important a target Tangrene is.

This is not just a base abandoned by the Ubiqtorate. These are not just hundreds of production facilities located on the planet and allowing the orbital repair shipyard of the second type, drifting in the orbit of this world, to carry out its work activities.

These are also warehouses for military equipment —uniforms, food, medicine, spare parts, fuel and lubricants, not to mention weapons and armored vehicles. Unfortunately, it is currently empty. There is nothing — the scouts swept everything clean that did not relate to the management of the legion they left on the surface of the planet.

I won't say that the actions of the Ubiqtorate, which actually bled the planet's defense systems, strained me greatly after all, but the number of garrisons is at the very least, but we will restore it with the help of Spaarti's cloning cylinders.

But something else is important now.

At my, and only at my disposal, at the moment there is an entire, fully operational, type II orbital shipyard adapted for the repair and production of ships.

This is truly a gift, for the sake of which it will be possible to forget about all the tricks that the Ubiqtorate —gifted me with as a burden.

So, what did I have at my disposal?

Produced by the Kuat Shipyards, this shipyard, of which there were quite a few scattered throughout the Empire (in the distant past, of course), was a structure similar to one side of a Rubik's cube. Nine almost quadrant cells placed in the same plane. Each of these cells can accommodate a ship the size of a Star Destroyer. But!

Imperial Orbital Shipyard Type II.

The «closed» cell, that is, having all four faces in the plane, was only the central one. All the rest did not have one «edge» — the one that faces the outside of the section.

Considering that the imperial rules of ship repair and construction stipulated that the ship should be docked parallel to the "edges" of the shipyard, and also secured with connecting sleeves and special sliding rods for fixing in one position, imperial workers more than once or twice used this approach to repair larger ships of the Imperial Navy, as a "partial" placement of the ship inside the "cell". Externally, of course. Not to mention the fact that if it was necessary to repair ships whose dimensions exceeded the dimensions of the "cell", such a starship was taken out of the shipyard, docked to its outer edges, and in this position feasible repairs were carried out.

And I must say that at the moment I was in euphoria.

Yes, I will have to fork out money in order to maintain this shipyard. Since it was previously at the disposal of the Ubiqtorate, the Imperial Ruling Council did not consider it necessary to include expenses for the maintenance of the planet in its budget. After all, scouts are able to take care of themselves, right?

So, a preliminary conversation with representatives of the Imperial Ruling Council regarding the issue of subordination of the shipyard and base on Tangrene left me with great satisfaction.

The base, the shipyard, and even the notorious Victory-class Star Destroyer are mine. Under my control. As well as the legion of stormtroopers, the administration and the Moff himself, who manages the sector after all, in fact, in this sector nothing except Tangrene was of any great interest to the Empire. Okay, so be it.

But this shipyard... is a real treasure. And I rejoiced at her like a boy! Although I understood that in addition to the positive aspects, there were also many negative aspects in the current situation. But first things first.

Equipped with a Class IV hyperdrive and associated equipment, it could be transported to any part of the galaxy. Maybe not as fast as, for example, the same Star Destroyer, but still! The shipyards of Sluis Van, Bilbringi and the same Kuat do not have this opportunity — they are stationary, if this term can be applied to three-dimensional outer space. Consequently, the shipyard can be «hidden» wherever I need it at any time.

The number of personnel is just over four thousand skilled Imperial workers who have already begun inspecting the Star Destroyers of my fleet. Two hundred attack aircraft are stationed at the shipyard as a security force in case of repelling an attack. Not enough, of course, to protect such an important facility, but before there was a whole fleet here and no one asked unnecessary questions. Now the situation has changed and now I will have to take care of the safety of the shipyard. If the Golan II-class defense station captured from the New Republic does get here, it will become a truly valuable asset. So significant that it is difficult to overestimate.

So, I have a personal base with shipyards subordinate to me, where I can do exactly what I want.

Not to mention that the shipyard has one excellent invention a crystalline gravity grid. With which you can determine the location of an object disguised by an invisibility generator. In the events known to me, it was for these reasons that the rebels attacked the Bilbringi shipyards —there is such equipment there too.

But there are also negative aspects. Where would we be without them?

A shipyard cannot fully operate without three main attributes —qualified personnel, resource base and spare parts.

There were workers at the shipyard and they weren't going to go anywhere after all, but they were comfortable here and the work was paid. Nobody wants to lose a warm place because of a kicking boss. However, questions will soon creep up —if the Ubiqtorate has left, then who will now pay their salaries? Unfortunately, no one in the Empire will bend their backs for a «thank you» and a kind smile. And forcing someone to do something if he doesn't have such a desire is more expensive for himself.

It is clear that I will have to finance the base myself. From your meager budget. The Imperial Ruling Council has already, in principle, «delighted» me with the news that, with all their desire, they cannot allocate additional funds —they themselves, they say, will not be enough. They hinted to me in a very opaque way that the already promised Imperial I-class Star Destroyer, which was being completed at the Bilbringi shipyards, could be useful to them elsewhere. They say, somehow I managed with the powers that I have.

That means I have a little over fifty million imperial credits left. This is bad.

But what's even worse is that Tangrene does not have its own base for the production of fighters and interceptors —this is done by completely different enterprises. And that's bad. I will have to look to the manufacturer for «outputs» to replenish the shabby aircraft fleet. Not to mention that two squadrons of surface-based TIE fighters are just a bante for laughs, not protection.

Tangrene does not have its own raw material base —if they can produce armor and deck plates, as well as a number of other ship structures in foundries on the surface of the planet, then this requires raw materials. Ore. Which was previously supplied to them in small quantities —in case of repairs —by the Ubiqtorate. Where he bought it, from whom, it's not clear. Without ore there will not be even minimal production. No production —no repair. No repairs —delays in the entry into service of ships.

There was still a small supply of spare parts for a number of ships in the shipyards and ship warehouses of Tangrene —but after the upcoming repairs, the warehouse will be empty. You will need new spare parts —you can't fight without them. But I somehow don't want to rush to Bilbringi, where all this is there.

Well, part of the problem can be solved by sending a caravan of Star Galleons there, accompanied by warships, and requesting the necessary parts. But we still won't get much —the other fleets of the Empire also need repairs. And no one in the rear likes to waste supplies from warehouses —of course, if it does not fill his own pocket.

The bottom line is that my fleet has been replenished with a Star Destroyer, I have a mobile space shipyard that can not only repair but also build ships, but I have problems with financing, problems with resources, problems with the Ubiqtorate.

Because I will never believe that they «left» just like that.

—Why did you tell me all this, coordinator Sergius? —I asked, looking at Captain Pellaeon sitting next to me.

Gilad clearly showed distrust of our guest. This is not surprising —there is so much «love» for the Imperial Security Service and Imperial Intelligence among the army and navy of the Empire that one should not expect anything else.

However, now I was more interested in the motives of this man. As well as the Imperial IntelligenceBellicoses who arrived with him on the shuttle. Sergius said directly —he continues to be the coordinator of the Ubiqtorate in the sector. Nobody deprived him of this title. Then for what reason did he come and dump in front of me the information that the Ubiqtorate had defected? After all, even the Imperial Ruling Council believes that the intelligence leadership chose to «cede» Tangrene to me as the rear base of the fleet, while they themselves remained «mobile» in order to prevent new attacks on their bases. Sounds reasonable — especially for Council members busy with their own behind-the-scenes struggles.

—I don't want to be expendable, Grand Admiral,— the man answered simply, carefully watching my reaction. — The Ubiqtorate left Imperial Space, moving to thePentastar Alignment. We, the operatives and the coordinator, were actually left here, abandoned. This is not how to behave with those who faithfully serve the Empire.

— As if if you were in their place, you would have acted differently,— Pellaeon muttered.

—Perhaps yes,— the man agreed. — Or perhaps not. They are in their place, and I am in mine. Consequently, they betrayed me and my operatives. I have a desire to serve the Empire, but no desire to serve the leadership of the Ubiqtorate. That's why I contacted you directly. You sent a request for imperial agents to be allocated to you. The Ubiqtorate has refused you. I don't think your need for professional spies was immediately eliminated.

—My needs are out of the question,— I remarked. — The question is your loyalty, coordinator. The Ubiqtorate never leAves behind anything that could harm it. But they left you and a group of operatives. Non-trivial behavior that raises more questions than answers.

—I agree, this looks like an attempt to introduce his people to you,— Sergius voiced without embellishment what was on my tongue. —Moreover, I will say —the Ubiqtorate requires me to provide them with information about the imperial officers who have expressed a desire to serve under your command. Considering that all orders for approval of transfers will go through encryption and decryption tools, it is not difficult for them to obtain such information on their own. From anywhere in the galaxy, from any Imperial Remnant.

—So, you think that you were given an «empty» task just to pretend to continue your service? —I clarified.

—That's right,— the scout agreed. ——Do what you did, but don't get in the way. The simplest way to «softly» get rid of an unwanted agent.

—Let's assume,— I nodded barely noticeably. —But to what extent can you and your operatives be trusted?

—The fact that the Ubiqtorate is not aware of your appeal to the imperial archives regarding the army and equipment of the separatists,— Sergius said unexpectedly. — All your requests to the archives went through relays in the Morshdine sector. Accordingly, I sent information to the Ubiqtorate. But when I realized that my leadership intended to play their own part, I stopped doing it. They do not know that you were interested in the personal affairs of General Maximilan Veers, nor about your inquiries regarding buzz droids and much more.

But these are not the best surprises. I would even say absolutely not good. Look, even Pellaeon is looking at me with interest. Another puncture. Only Rukh doesn't care.

—Let's say,— I didn't even try to explain myself. In such a situation, any phrase of justification will sound ridiculous. A Grand Admiral with the authority of Supreme Commander-in-Chief does not have to explain the reason for his actions. —In summary, you are actually offering to work for me. This may raise a number of questions. Including from the Imperial Ruling Council. Generals do not assemble teams of spies.

—In our time, everyone gathers suitable allies for themselves,— Sergius noted. — Grand Moff Ardus Kaine is no exception. So why should you do anything differently? Especially considering your recent military successes. I won't lie — every second person, not counting the first, believes that your victory deserves attention. Perhaps I will surprise you with the fact that the Imperial Council is discussing the possibility of declaring you Emperor to unite the Imperial Remnants under a single command.

I won't say that I was very surprised —this part of the turnover activities of the Ruling Council has long been known. They need someone who will solve problems, especially since they have already proven their incompetence in the military field. Therefore, the solution is not so desperate. One might even say pragmatic. And if I had not remembered, albeit without names, but clearly, that some of the members of the Imperial Ruling Council literally a year later would find themselves on the side of the Reborn Emperor Palpatine —perhaps I would have even actively tried to find common ground with them.

Now... searching for allies and like-minded people among advisers is a waste of time. And besides, it might inadvertently reveal my real plans. And then there will definitely be trouble. That's not why I'm squirming like a snake in search of everything valuable that can be snatched and carried away, so that even the slightest part does not go to Palpatine. Or the New Republic. No, all this will be useful to me. Now or later but only I will take these «charms».

—No, you won't be surprised,— I said calmly. Pellaeon's eyes widened. And you can understand it. When your boss, albeit cold-blooded and pragmatic and phlegmatic to the core, is offered to become the ruler of an interstellar state, and he is still as calm as if he had been informed that the cleaning of the nozzles of a Star Destroyer had been completed —willy-nilly you will look at the commander incredulously. Are you in your right mind? —The decision is logical. So I understand that my candidacy is not the only one for the throne?

—There are many contenders,— said Sergius. —But you and Grand Moff Kaine are first in line.

—I see,— I said. —Well, let's move on to more important matters... Captain, are you okay?

Pellaeon, clearing his throat, nodded, saying, don't pay attention to me, just think, someone has more important things to do than lead the disunited Empire. Well, who hasn't?

-Are you ready to serve me? — I asked the imperial agent. He, barely noticeably squinting, perfectly understood the background of the question. It is likely that service to the Empire and service to the Grand Admiral are not entirely identical concepts. And here you should choose correctly, after thinking everything over, weighing the pros and cons...

—Yes,— it looks like my eye twitched. Is it that simple? A hasty decision or... Yes, most likely «or». The scout was probably preparing for something like this before talking to me. Therefore, the question did not take him by surprise. —I and the agents subordinate to me are ready to carry out your will, Grand Admiral.

— A wise choice,— I appreciated. —Your determination will be appreciated. However, we have a lot of work ahead of us. The first thing I would like to hear from you is information about the Moff of the Morshdine sector and the identity of the commander of the Star Destroyer that remained in Tangrene orbit after the Ubiqtorate fled. Their personal characteristics, degree of loyalty, reliability and competence. I am sure that it will not be difficult for you to delve into your memory and remember the old reports that you previously wrote to your superiors...

***

—Well,— I said, summing up the meeting. —You and your people have four hours to prepare for the mission.

-What is our goal? — Bravo-2 asked in a dry, professional tone.

—Find one person for me,— I said. —You'll get his name a little later—right before you're sent on a mission. The information we know about him is very fragmentary. A former smuggler, he once commanded a ship in the gang of a man known as Jorj Car'das. According to my information, he is currently actively interested in gambling. And he really loves floating gambling establishments.

—Needed alive or dead? —Sergius clarified.

—Exceptionally alive,— I said. —Consider this task a test of your professional suitability.

—I understand the task, Grand Admiral,— the Ubiqtorate coordinator answered with a serious expression on his face. — Are there any restrictions on the time period for completing the operation?

—No later than in two weeks he should be before my eyes,— I clarified this question.

—It will be done,— said the imperial intelligence officer. -Can I go?

—Go,— I said indifferently. Watching the scout leave the room, he looked at Pellaeon.

—So I understand, captain,— I said after Sergius left the compartment, —do you have any questions?

—Yes, sir,— the Chimera commander nodded his head affirmatively. — Are you sure that this "ubiqtorat" can be trusted?

—We'll find out,— I said, looking at the chronometer. —I have my first meeting in an hour, and my second in two.

—With the Moff and Captain I-Gor,— said Pellaeon. —Sir, to be honest, I can't understand why you were interested in the opinion of this intelligence officer regarding the personalities of these people. Can the words of a Ubiqtorate man be trusted?

—Not for a moment,— I said. —However, it's worth giving him a chance. Coordinator Sergius expressed a desire to serve our cause. While there are no objective reasons to believe that he is a liar, we will not bring charges and get rid of this kind of help. On the contrary, we will give him a chance to prove his loyalty. For example, by checking his assessment given by other intelligent ones during upcoming meetings.

Pellaeon, having listened to the answer, winced, clearly with annoyance at his hasty statement, and nodded in understanding. It seems that he could not overcome his prejudice about Imperial Intelligence, and therefore decided that I took someone's word for it.

— Have you received information about how quickly the shipyard will repair the damage to our ships? —I asked.

all ships will leave the docks within two to four weeks, sir,— said the commander of the star destroyer. —The Chimera will be ready for battle in three days, the Death's Head and the Imperious —in another day, the rest of the starships will leave the repair shops after a week. The repairs will cost about half a million credits for all the ships, but it will empty almost all of Tangrene's warehouses. After the next battle, we will no longer have spare parts on hand for quick repairs.

—Order a convoy of Star Galleons to Bilbringi Shipyards,— I ordered. —We need spare parts, we need fighters, interceptors, bombers any resources that will allow our fleet to carry out repairs in one place —here. As soon as the orbital defense station and the ships that Messrs. Ferrier and Vayne will deliver to us arrive, we will have no problems organizing both patrols and further attacks.

—Sir, perhaps then the captured freighters should also be transported from Bilbringi? —he clarified. —Like experiments with a camouflage field...

—There's no need for that, captain,— I said. —We won't put all our advantages in one place,— he almost said a painfully familiar phrase about eggs and a basket. — Moreover, there will already be a lot of work for the shipyard employees here, so that they can also be distracted by third-party projects. Are the cargo hangars of the Death's Head and the Overlord emptied of their asteroid cargo?

—That's right, sir,— said Pellaeon. — Standard procedure requires unloading ammunition, military equipment and ground contingent from the ship, along with the crew, except for the watch, during repairs.

—I remember the standard procedures, captain, they will soon give me a headache. —But I was much more interested in how accurately the workers at the shipyard followed them. During the time they were under the control of the Ubiqtorate, dramatic changes could have occurred in human psychology regarding attitudes towards following orders. Order that our technical teams remain on the ships and, in addition to their main work —helping to repair damage, also monitor the actions of the workers. The rebels are very fond of destroying or capturing our ships while repairing damage.

—Sir, is this demand excessive? —Pellaeon clarified. — The crews never repaired their ships at shipyards. This is contrary to traditions and accepted procedures in the navy...

—It looks like you don't understand, captain,— I sighed. — Traditions and regulations are useful when they are not harmful. Waiting from two to four weeks for the ships of the fleet to enter service is clearly not part of my plans. We have other strategic objectives. Therefore, crews will take part in restoration work.

—I understand you, sir,— it was clear from the expression on Pellaeon's face that he did not really approve of my decision, but he would not object.

—That's good,— I said, looking at the chronometer. —I won't detain you any longer on this, captain.

What cannot be taken away from Pellaeon — he is not stupid at all and understood perfectly well that the conversation with the Moff and the commander of our new "Victory" would take place without his participation.

Watching the Chimera commander leave the compartment, he looked at the chronometer again. There was not much time left before the meeting with the Moff, but enough to summarize the events of today.

And sort out the «crutches» of the conversations ahead of me in my brain.

The longer I live in the shoes of a Grand Admiral, the more new and interesting things I learn.

Life definitely didn't prepare me for this.

***

Overall, I had only positive impressions from my meeting with the Moff.

A middle-aged man, clearly not in favor with the big bosses, since he managed a completely non-industrialized sector. It's even strange that the sector was once under the control of Zsinj. This guy never wanted to keep parasites around.

However, the content of the conversation clarified a lot.

Firstly, the Moff who sits in front of me is not the same Moff who oversaw the development of the planet, but his successor. Consequently, the genocide of the local population was not carried out by this intelligent one. Not that I am catastrophically against genocides — but this is a last resort. Overkill, I would even say.

Secondly, I was not mistaken in the fact that Zsinj did not just take over this sector. It once included the planet Vandin, a rich and industrialized world. Which was taken over by the Ciutric hegemony. And of course I wasn't going to give it away. And the Imperial Ruling Council did not dare to arrange a redistribution of power due to the fact that the ruler of the Hegemony «Prince Admiral Delak Krenne» was quite a constructive and far-sighted ally.

The orbital repair shipyard of the second type was inherited by the new Tangrene government also from Zsinj. Like warehouses full of all sorts of goodness. Which is no longer there now. A fleet of more than one and a half dozen star destroyers of various types is also the legacy of the military leader. Just like the garrisons on the planet...

In general, it becomes clear why the Ubiqtorate decided to settle here. Not only did they get a fortress planet after the defeat of Zsinj, but also a fleet, a shipyard, and a considerable number of soldiers. Leaving Tangrene, the scouts left on the planet only what they could not take with them. Yes, as it turns out, the orbital shipyard is also not particularly serviceable —the hyperdrive on it is some kind of special one, not a standard ship one. And it's damaged. Repairing or buying a new one will result in large amounts of credits.

The ships of the Ubiqtorate fleet made up for their rare losses by providing assistance with resources and equipment from the Ciutric Hegemony. This is understandable —none of the Imperial Remnants were in a hurry to cross the path of the all-powerful Imperial Intelligence. Everyone had enough common sense not to poke a dozing bear with a hot poker. Well, you can't undo what's been done.

But, despite everything, the Moff declared his loyalty and willingness to help in any way he could. Imperial Space does not provide him with money or forces for protection; without the Ubiqtorate, Tangrene's actual value is near zero. Therefore, he perceived the appearance of my fleet practically as the second coming of the Emperor.

His behavior and the qualities that emerged during the conversation completely coincided with what coordinator Sergius told me.

Decisive, courageous, moderately ambitious. He doesn't like to ingratiate himself with his superiors and is straightforward. Thoroughly disappointed in the current state of the Empire. And he has high hopes for the restoration of the previous order.

This person has connections in some worlds of the sector, so he will be able to provide relatively small food supplies. He has no access to the black market, but he is well aware that on the planet Camden, as part of his sector, there is actually the only civilian spaceport in the entire sector called Snake Eyes. Smugglers and other unpleasant entities often hang out there. The Ubiqtorate considered it beneath its dignity to go there to restore order, especially since the planet provides the sector with some kind of monetary income. They were not going to meddle in the affairs of the black market, obviously satisfied with the fact that they had a certain percentage from illegal transactions. Once or twice, Star Destroyers from Tangrene were sent to Camden to restore order, but in fact this resulted in them eliminating their competitors for one side of the black market. The sector's annual turnover from incoming taxes is just over five million credits.

There is an expression «Hug and cry». It was at that moment that I realized how bad things were.

Even the joy of finding the long-awaited logistics and repair base has already faded. There are so many problems here that it will take a huge amount of time to put things in order. Moff actually has nothing to put pressure on crime, which can get angry and take proper revenge. Until recently, they were afraid to touch the planet itself, but now that the Ubiqtorate is gone, one careless movement and all the mob from the nearest sectors will gather and spoil the blood properly.

This is unpleasant, but, however, it could be worse.

So, I have more headaches. And —very, very much.

I can't afford to fight the criminal world now —I simply don't have enough funds. Moreover, the example of Mr. Ferrier and Mr. Vayne clearly shows that it is possible to reach an agreement. Moreover, in such a way that, in all likelihood, crime or at least some of its representatives will want to exchange their services for a good reward.

—Thank you for your report, Moff,— I summed up our conversation. —Your problems are clear to me, I will do everything that can depend on me. But only with your full cooperation in my own endeavors.

—Yes, yes, Grand Admiral, of course,— the Moff assured me, still not believing that I didn't throw everything to the Hutt grandmother and run off to Bilbringi, where such problems were not observed.

—The ships will arrive here soon,— I continued. —I will allocate some of them for patrolling the sector after the repair of my fleet and crewing are completed.

—Thank you,— the Moff's voice sounded relieved.

—I also want to inform you that various types of individuals will appear in the system, with not the most positive past,— I added. Moff was noticeably wary. —They receive certain tasks, and therefore they work for me. I will need your help in putting resources and reserves in order. Tangrene must be protected from all types of attacks.

a large amount of equipment and personnel will be required to restore the size of the garrison,— he noted.

—We will solve this problem,— I assured, realizing that very soon Spaarti's cloning cylinders would have to work hard. The first batch of clone technicians is about to be ready. And most likely, they will become crew members of new ships. And you'll have to wait until the middle of this month to get a new batch. Eh, what a pity that there are so few clones and they are not produced at the snap of a finger. — Contact Prince Admiral Delak Krennel on my behalf and ask him if he agrees to provide us with logistical support. As far as I remember, there is an orbital shipyard on Ciutric IV, and Hegemony independently provides itself with all types of products of the imperial military-industrial complex. I also want you to find out how well other systems can provide food for us. Given the expansion of my fleet, the number of personnel is also increasing. And hence the need for food.

—I understand, sir,— said the Moff. —However, I must note that this will require additional cash injections. A significant portion of the sector's income goes towards paying the salaries of shipyard workers and ground-based production line technicians. It's good that the stormtroopers don't have to pay any expenses —otherwise I would definitely go broke.

Now this is not a bad idea. The Stormtrooper Corps serves the Empire not for money, but for the idea. They, like the clones of the Grand Army of the Republic, are provided with everything necessary for their service. But there is no monetary allowance in principle. I should consider the idea of ​​issuing a salary, albeit a small one, that could encourage soldiers throughout Imperial Space to join me. And not only stormtroopers, but also, possibly, ordinary intelligent ones.

However, as the Moff rightly noted, this requires funds. Preferably big ones. Money can motivate anyone. And this money needs to come from somewhere.

—Well, Moff,— I concluded. —You are entrusted with logistical support for the forces subordinate to me. I am sure that a person of your talents will be able to cope with such a task brilliantly.

— As you command, Grand Admiral,— the Moff became dignified.

—I will transfer our transport ships under your command,— I continued. —I ask you to contact your fellow Moffs to explore the question: «How can they help us?» In the current situation, we are not proud and we will accept everything that is offered to us.

—I understand this better than anyone,— the Moff smiled sadly.

and that's good,— I concluded. —In that case, get to work. My starships should return to active duty soon. One last thing, Moff.

—I'm listening to you, Grand Admiral,— the man who rose from the table sat down again, so as not to show dIrespect to me.

—The Nebulon-B escort frigates that we captured from the enemy,— I said. —To the best of your ability, try to make them much more combat-ready ships for the Imperial Navy. I have no great desire to see anything even remotely similar to the rebel starships next to my starships.

—I understand you, sir,— the Moff said after thinking for a moment. —I think that by the time the Chimera returns to service, the shipyard's chief engineer will have prepared suitable options.

—I'm glad to hear from you your desire for further cooperation,— I said. —I won't delay you any longer, you are free.

Saluting, the man left the compartment.

After sitting, I looked at the calm expression on Rukh's face, pretending to be a rag by the bulkhead.

Noghri, noghri, noghri... what should I do with you? Where can you hide these people from the Skywalker family, so as not to be afraid of using you...

Or... how can I change the existing reason why the Noghri serve me, so that I no longer fear that the Empire's best killers will change sides?

Think, Grand Admiral Thrawn, think.

And remember!

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