High-level negotiations (II)

 Only two teams responded to the Grand Admiral's proposal for cooperation. Not enough, considering that just a year or two ago, dozens, if not hundreds, of different groups worked for the self-proclaimed military leader Zsinj.

After Zsinj's defeat, most of his territories went to the rebels, who did not treat the commander's comrades-in-arms well, organizing a real hunt for pirates and mercenaries. Some were destroyed, some went to prison, others decided to move away from the sectors of the Imperials and the rebels. There, where any power has not yet arrived - or, on the contrary, has left.

The short flight to the outpost passed in complete silence.

The Grand Admiral sat in a chair with his eyes closed, as if he was meditating. Rukh silently sat down next to him. Despite the fact that the Noghri did not show it, Pellaeon noticed that he was upset about his failure on Myrkr. The pronounced coldness of Thrawn, who was not known for warmth and affection, towards his bodyguard, unequivocally signaled to Rukh that failures carry significant consequences.

Only Rukh was disgraced, but the Grand Admiral ordered the recall of all Noghri commando units without exception to Honoghr. Without explanation - which is typical of his style. Interpret it as you will, but Pellaeon understood the message: Thrawn was demonstrating to the Noghri his stance on Rukh's failure. He certainly conveyed his disappointment to his kin, and now the clans on Honoghr are probably racking their brains over how to appease their master.

Meanwhile, Pellaeon himself, albeit unconsciously, noticed that Thrawn... had changed somewhat. He was not inclined to explain his actions or give lectures - he only set tasks. At a good time, he gave hints so that Pellaeon himself could find the answers to the questions posed. Either Thrawn was tired of the fact that the captain of the Chimera was not very capable of simply constructing the whole picture, knowing only some data, or after he was left alone with the dark Jedi there on Weyland, the Grand Admiral softened.

The captain did not even consider the possibility that C'baoth could somehow influence the Chiss. Firstly, Rukh, who was not yet in disgrace at that time, would not have allowed this. Secondly, Thrawn doesn't go anywhere without ysalamiri. The whole ship stinks of these lizards, but he doesn't seem to notice. The Dark Jedi even tried several times to say something to Pellaeon, saying that he was annoyed by the fact that, while wandering around the ship, he continually lost contact with the Force. I wanted to tell him in the accessible Corellian dialect, accepted among the unintellectual sections of society, where exactly he could address his complaints, but instead Gilad only forwarded the complaints. Ysalamiri on the ship is an order from the Grand Admiral. If you're not satisfied, direct all inquiries to the man with blue skin and a white uniform.

And yet, something wrong is happening in Thrawn's behavior. The entire journey from Weyland to the Pakuuni system, which Pellaeon's navigators had laid out to use the main and regional hyperspace routes and thereby while away most of the time, the Chiss spent in his cabin. This was the case before, but with one exception.

Gilad himself specifically went down to the admiral several times with reports on the successful actions of the raiding groups in order to check his observations.

Thrawn stopped looking at his holographic pictures of art objects. Yes, he may not have done this all the time, but it seemed as if the Grand Admiral had more important things to do.

Yes, from the same Lieutenant Tshel, Gilad knew that all the information chips, without exception, found at the level of Mount Tantiss, reserved for the library, were delivered to the admiral's cabin. Probably the Grand Admiral was studying the information received. And there was probably something colossal and terribly interesting there - in one of his reports, Gilad managed to notice, before Thrawn deactivated the holoprojector, that he was looking at not just an image, but a technical diagram... of the Death Star!

The first or the second is not clear, however, if even such secrets were kept in the Emperor's personal treasury, it's scary to imagine what else is there.

No, of course, Thrawn is unlikely to build another battle station, but there was no doubt that he would properly manage the data he discovered.

Well, maybe the Chimera commander is screwing himself over, maybe not. But it is too early to draw conclusions regarding changes in the Grand Admiral. He will simply continue to notice what is happening in case Thrawn's new behavior is part of some other instructive mindfulness task.

And now... now there was a conversation with the biggest scum of the galaxy.

As soon as they left the shuttle and listened to the report of the outpost commandant and headed towards the compartment where the "guests" were already waiting for them, Thrawn asked:

"Is there any information about the identity of those with whom we have to deal?"

"A little," Pellaeon admitted. "The time frame is short, naval intelligence did what it could..."

"Get to the point, Captain," the Grand Admiral asked and demanded.

"The first is Niles Ferrier, nicknamed 'Sniff,'" Gilad did not escape the fact that when this name was voiced, the Chiss barely noticeably slowed down his pace, as if he had heard something he did not want to hear. "Ship hijacker. Very skillful, I must say. In the past, he stole several Corellian CR-90 corvettes for Zsinj. What's remarkable is that it came straight from the Corellian Engineering Company shipyards."

** Corellian CR90 corvette **

"So, I understand that these starships are now serving in the rebel fleet?" Thrawn clarified. Pellaeon could only nod silently in agreement.

"They're not bad ships—fast and well-armed for their class," said the captain of the Star Destroyer. "According to intelligence officers, Ferrier is now looking for a client for the DP-20 frigate."

** Corellian DP-20 frigate (gunboat) **

"Also, Corellian," the Grand Admiral noted.

"That's correct," Gilad concurred. "It appears that this individual harbors some sort of sentiment towards the Corellians."

"We are least interested in his psychological deviations," Thrawn said. "Corellia produces ships, although not the most armed, but quite maneuverable and with enviable hull strength. They won't bother us. If we come to an agreement, immediately send people to inspect the ships."

"Yes, sir," Pellaeon nodded. "The second 'character' is already more intriguing. Pirate Yazuo Vayne. We have gathered considerable information about him."

"Is that so?" Thrawn noted. "For what reason?"

"Most of the data is obtained from the archives of correctional institutions of the Empire," Pellaeon explained. "Let's say, he has been behind bars more than once."

"More details, Captain," Thrawn asked. "Perhaps his problems will be to our advantage."

"A man, born on the planet Nimban in Hutt Space," Gilad did not further elaborate and simply opened the file on his deck. "His father and mother worked for a middle-class crime boss from the Hutt race. Ziro the Hutt, at one time this name thundered during the Clone Wars. The man served as the gangster's right hand, commander of the organization's military wing. Mother is a concubine. Her exact origins are unknown, only that she was captured as a slave in one of the raids, after which his father made her his concubine - one of several. As a result of some local disputes among the Hutts, Ziro's organization was absorbed by his nephew Jabba. The family fled and were caught. Only the child, Yazuo, survived. He joined the pirate gang, rose from the very bottom - from a sorter of stolen goods to the captain's mate. He didn't get along with his previous commander, killed him, and went into independent privateering. He was caught trying to steal his first ship. Sent to Kessel, from where he escaped. The second time he was able to steal the same starship and has since commanded it, raiding merchants. Twice more he fell into the hands of justice but escaped punishment. In one case, he escaped from custody, in another, he paid off an imperial official with a very substantial sum. After the death of the Emperor, he was able to put together a small but well-organized team of pirates. According to rumors, they carried out a lot of operations, but there is no information confirming or refuting this. During Zsinj's attack on Kuat to steal the Executor-class Super Star Destroyer Razor's Kiss, the group suffered losses, being reduced from ten ships to two - his own Depraved Twi'lek and another trash can. Shortly before Zinja's death, he purchased spare parts on the black market to repair the Iron Fist in orbit around Dathomir. There is a suspicion that it was he who led the Republicans to Zinj, since he did not pay him the entire agreed amount of credit cards for spare parts."

"A story worthy of a novel," Thrawn said. "Is that all we know about him?"

"There is a small psychological profile compiled by our agents," Pellaeon admitted. "Vayne has no education. However, he has broad but superficial knowledge in several areas directly related to fishing. At some point during his work for Zinj, he was married to, or had a close relationship with - it is not exactly known, a Twi'lek dancer from Nar Shaddaa. After returning from Kessel, he found her in bed with a relative from Ryloth. He brutally dealt with both of them. By the way, the lover was the commander of his second ship, and the crew consisted entirely of Twi'leks. The crew was killed after their captain. There is a psychologist's conclusion that the mentioned incident somehow influenced his attitude towards this race, since he hates them as if he were a supporter of the New Order."

"The Empire's human-centric policy does not imply a negative attitude towards any one race of exotics," Thrawn objected.

"I know, sir. We hate everyone equally," Pellaeon replied. "But this is indicated in his file..."

"More," Thrawn demanded.

"He enjoys authority among his team and several traffickers of stolen goods, one of whom was an agent of the Empire Security Service. Most of the information was obtained from him. The fact that the agent was found hanging from his own intestines is associated with the fact that Yazuo exposed our informant. This is also evidenced by characteristic stab and blaster wounds, corresponding to the profile of a homemade vibrosword combined with a blaster, which Vayne wields as a service weapon. He is considered an undesirable character even among his own circle."

"And how is he different from other pirates, racketeers, and murderers, since he is considered a renegade?" Thrawn clarified.

"Too sharp-tongued," Pellaeon read the last line from the report. "Looks like this guy has two Tartan-class patrol cruisers for sale." Condition unknown.

"Interesting, don't you think, Captain?" Thrawn asked unexpectedly. "The pirate sells to the Empire ships designed by order of the Empire to combat piracy. Most likely they were stolen from the Pentastar Alignment.These types of ships are unique to Imperial space and are not utilized elsewhere."

"The acquisition and use of starships stolen from the Alignment could provoke tension with Grand Moff Ardus Kaine," Pellaeon warned.

"He is a reasonable man and will not ruin our relationship because of several ships that he lost through his own fault," said the Grand Admiral. "Moreover, we don't even know yet whether we will buy these ships, or whether they are in such a state that it will be cheaper to build new ones."

"You might think we have a choice," Gilad thought. Thrawn's fleet is already relatively small. And compared to any rebel combat group, it's more than modest. It is necessary to seize every opportunity to increase the number of ships at the disposal of the Grand Admiral. Yes, they may have to be repaired at shipyards, but still, these are combat starships!

Walking past several members of the outpost crew, the trio arrived at the compartment reserved for negotiations with the mercenaries. A couple of stormtroopers, completely different from the smart and exemplarily trained fighters stationed aboard the ships of the Grand Admiral's fleet.

The alignment is off, with chips and stains marring the armor, and one even sports a cracked helmet visor! It's disgraceful! Where is the outpost commander's attention?

But Thrawn ignored this fact, only giving the fighters a cold look, under which they instantly stood at attention. But the first impression had already turned out to be hopelessly spoiled.

Judging by the situation, the compartment chosen by the commandant for negotiations was a small wardroom. A medium-sized room with high ceilings and a spacious round sectional porthole. In the center, there was a rectangular metal table, behind which there were two "guests."

The smell of tobacco smoke hung in the air. Very disgusting and unpleasantly tickling the nostrils. The source of such obscenity on board the Empire's military facility was a man dressed in simple but good-quality clothes, clearly not bought with the last of his money. Overweight, an impudent look, and a cigar in his teeth. Feet thrown on the table and a complete lack of respect for the arrivals. Niles Ferrier himself.

** Niles Ferrier **

"Sir, may I…" Pellaeon began with the clear intention of establishing order here.

"No need, Captain," Thrawn stopped him, turning to his second companion. "Rukh."

Noghri reacted instantly. His hand flashed in the air like a blur, after which the smoldering tip of the thief's cigar was cut off and fell onto his shirt. "Sniff" hissed, clearly dissatisfied with either the burnt clothes or the discomfort that his own cigar gave him.

The second man didn't even bat an eyelid. He continued to coolly track those who entered with his whitish eyes. Pellaeon almost cursed. One glance at the ears of this intelligent one was enough to understand that in front of them was not a person. An Arkanian, or a Sephie, or maybe a half-breed. How, one might ask, could such a mistake be made when compiling the dossier? It looks like someone in Imperial Intelligence screwed up.

** Pirate Yazuo Vayne **

"Gentlemen," Pellaeon noted the condescendingly mocking expression on the half-breed's face. "You are currently within an Imperial establishment. It is expected that you adhere to the prescribed standards of decorum or choose to vacate the premises and retreat to your vessel, which was undoubtedly lured here by the scent of commerce. Have I made myself understood?" at the end of his speech the Grand Admiral asked, sitting down at the head of the table so that both representatives of the criminal rabble were in front of him, but as far away as possible.

It seems Thrawn decided to communicate with the mercenaries in their own language.

"More approachable than a Twi'lek," Yazuo Vane grinned, baring his snow-white teeth.

"I see," muttered Niles Ferrier, looking at the hole in his shirt and flicking the smoldering cigarette butt onto the floor with a barely noticeable movement. Pellaeon felt a burning desire to grab the insolent man by the collar and force him to lick the deck with his tongue.

"Now about business," Thrawn leaned back slightly in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. "So I understand that you have something to offer us?"

"If you have money, of course," the half-breed continued to smile impudently. "Sniff" limited himself to just a nod of his head.

"First, I want to know where these ships come from," Thrawn said.

"Is there a difference?" The mercenaries looked at each other. This is understandable - few people want to talk about their fishing grounds.

"I didn't want to have anything to do with you at all," said Yazuo Vayne. "And when I heard that you were so tight with ships that you escaped from four collapsing Republican frigs in the Obroa-skai system on a Star Destroyer, I decided - why not? And here it is, gratitude..."

The Grand Admiral did not even bother to answer but began to look at his snow-white glove. Thus, making it clear that he does not intend to continue to participate in the dialogue until he receives an answer to his question.

"I stole one Tartan from the Grizmalt shipyards in the Central Worlds," the pirate was the first to break the silence. "It's in excellent condition, the Republicans just got it out of storage." The second tried to board my ship, and I took their crew by the balls. It's slightly used, a few holes, a couple of guns replaced - and it's as good as new. At least put them in a parade in honor of the anniversary of the New Order.

Judging by his grin, the pirate was extremely pleased with himself. And with your flat jokes.

"The second Tartan," Thrawn said slowly. "Whose fleet did he serve in?"

"Uh..." the half-breed hesitated. "Well, I do not know…"

"Where was the second patrol cruiser captured?" the Grand Admiral asked a new question, continuing to examine his glove.

"In the Chasin system," admitted Yazuo Vane. Pellaeon, standing to the right of the commander-in-chief, felt seething rage. Chasin is one of the systems supporting the Grand Admiral! What kind of impudence is this!?

"I see," Thrawn said. "Where are the ships?"

"First money, then starships," the pirate grinned impudently. "We work on prepayment, bearer credit chips, slave trade is possible..."

"Be careful with your words, Mister Vane," Thrawn's eyes flashed with fire. "The Empire does not support the slave trade in its systems."

"Um... since when?" The pointy-eared man scratched his blond head.

"Always," said the Chiss. "Remember it yourself and pass it on to the rest of your colleagues. How many ships does the New Republic have mothballed on Grimzalt?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I'm not the Galactic Senate of the Old Republic...

"They didn't understand much either," Thrawn clarified. "So - how much?"

"I saw at least three more Tartans," he said. "It seems that after almost all the Imperials fled from Anaxis a few months ago with their Super Star Destroyer and all combat-ready ships, the New Republicans decided to sort out what was left. From the logbook, it is known that this ship was undergoing major repairs. The others who stayed there probably did too."

"I see," Thrawn said. "Mister Ferrier?"

"Stolen from Corellia," he answered simply. "The frigate was under repair, something was wrong with the main hyperdrive. I used a spare one and took the baby away from his wasteful owners."

"Oh, you should have said that to my face," Pellaeon mentally offended for all the Corellians.

"Captain," the Grand Admiral addressed him. "What is the cost of new ships of the same type that are offered to us, dear gentlemen?"

"What?! He intends to compensate criminals with the actual value of the ships?!" Pellaeon's thoughts seared with disbelief.

Nevertheless, it is imperative for the executive officer to execute the order.

"The Tartan-class patrol cruiser, fresh from the shipyards, was valued by the Imperial treasury at four million two hundred thousand credits," he said. "DP-20 Frigate — four million and eight hundred thousand credits."

Judging by the faces of the mercenaries, they were already counting the money and imagining how they would use it. Pellaeon preferred not to even think about how quickly their already modest budget of seventy million, which would be enough to maintain the existing fleet for a year, would be scattered into the pockets of criminals.

"Well," Thrawn concluded. "I hope no one will mind our specialists inspecting the ships?"

Niles Ferrier snorted in anger, leading Gilad to suspect that the Corellian starship wasn't as flawless as the hijacker had claimed. Nonetheless, the pirate was in high spirits.

"However, everyone present here understands perfectly well that the proposed ships are by no means new," Thrawn continued, and Pellaeon triumphed, seeing how tense the criminals were. "Therefore, I think a fair price would be half the market value of a new starship of the same type."

"Uh-uh!" Yazuo Vayne waved his hands. "Yes, these ships will be torn off my hands anywhere - either in the New Republic or in other states of the Empire..."

"You will be executed, both here and there," Thrawn said calmly. "Moreover, for the same reasons. Stealing a warship in the New Republic can be commuted to life imprisonment on Kessel or another prison colony - it doesn't matter. A similar crime in the Empire - any part of it - is punishable by death. And considering that you also contributed to the death of citizens and military personnel of the Empire, your path to the chopping block is guaranteed. The same goes for you, Niles Ferrier - Corellia is trying to be friends with both forces in the galaxy. And you have both succeeded in an act that has harmed the two major powers in the galaxy. Other minor factions won't be able to muster even half of what we're offering you."

"The agreement wasn't like this!" exclaimed the hijacker. "The full amount was guaranteed!"

When did this happen?

"Exactly!" Yazuo Vayne picked up. "The agreement is like a meteor..."

"A meteor burns up when it enters the oxygen-containing atmosphere of an astronomical body," the Grand Admiral besieged the pirate. "However, since you have chosen to deceive me regarding our agreement, Mr. Vayne, I shall consider the 'Tartan,' captured in the Chasin system, as a gift. This will serve as a gesture of goodwill on your part for the error in selecting a starship for the hijacking. You cannot steal ships from the Empire and its allies and try to sell them to the Empire."

"So, I didn't steal the ship from you," the half-breed stated, taking offense. "Had I known these were your people, I wouldn't have ejected them through the airlock..."

"Any part of the Empire is my territory," Thrawn said harshly. "Except that the Deep Core doesn't interest me much." But thank you for reminding us of the merciless murder of our ship's crew members. Captain," Pellaeon practically couldn't hide his smile. "What is the number of crew on a Tartan-class patrol cruiser?"

"Seventy people," he answered readily. "The minimum quantity is ten."

"So there were about twelve of them there!" Yazuo began to argue, clearly losing his temper. Rukh tensed, ready to attack the pirate at any moment.

"Excellent," Thrawn said. "As the truism says, the life of an imperial serviceman is priceless."

"Who said that?" the hijacker Niles Ferrier got into the Grand Admiral's conversation with Yazuo Vane.

"I am," Thrawn answered simply. "Just now."

"I see," Sniff hung his nose.

"As I already said, you are entitled to execution for your crimes, not a monetary reward," Thrawn continued. "But today the Empire gives a second chance to those who help it. For every Tartan crew member killed, Mr. Vane, you will steal and deliver to me one ship. Total - twelve."

Pellaeon thought he had gone deaf. What?! Since when has the Empire been doing business this way?! Even Darth Vader, known for his contacts among mercenaries, did not give a second chance. He just strangled him with the help of his supernatural powers and that's all. Driving a pirate into debt is quite simple, but does the admiral truly believe the pirate will fulfill the order, even with a promise?

"I don't even know where to get a dozen Tartans," said the half-breed.

"You have information about at least three ships of this type," the Chiss reminded. "However, I will put myself in your position. Ships can be of any type and any condition, but exclusively for military purposes. The higher the class and the better the condition, the faster you will pay off your debt to me."

"Should I board a Star Destroyer for you?" the half-breed asked with disbelief.

"Indeed, the galaxy harbors many," Thrawn concurred. "And not all are in the Empire's possession. Should you procure details on the whereabouts of Imperial capital ships that now sail under our adversaries' ensigns, we would assist in addressing the ethical quandary of their proprietorship. In return, your debts would be absolved, Mr. Vane. It is probable that such intelligence could also lead to substantial wealth for you."

"It's a tempting offer," said the pirate. "Well, I have a couple of options, of course... The outcome of the deal, of course, is as impressive as sex drive on your deathbed, but... Two million one hundred thousand credits are better than nothing."

"Add to this your life, received in advance for completing the remaining tasks," Thrawn advised. "And also - do not forget to take twelve crew members off board your ship - they will remain hostages while you fulfill your obligations. If you try to deceive me, hide or steal ships from the Empire, my subordinates will kill your subordinates very slowly and for a long time until you come to your senses. Not to mention that I will send every hunter I can hire for your head. Captain, do you think the rumors that Boba Fett survived his time in the Sarlacc pit on Tatooine and is in dire need of money are true?"

"Certainly, sir," acknowledged the captain of the Chimera, observing a shadow cross Rukh's face. The Grand Admiral had unmistakably conveyed his lack of trust in the Noghri as executors. The burden of shame grew heavier on those with ambition. "Rumors suggest he executes some orders for sheer pleasure, particularly those involving individuals who once served the Hutts."

"So, we have an agreement?" the Grand Admiral asked the pirate. The pirate, his amusement evidently faded, nodded in agreement. "Twelve fallen Imperial troops for twelve ships. The better their condition, the more favorable it is for you. You have one week to deliver the first ship to me. Should there be no word from you regarding the completed order after six days, consider finding or digging a deeper hiding place for your own peace."

"Did you mean to say 'peace'?" said the hijacker Niles Ferrier.

"I said what I wanted to say," Thrawn noted coldly. Pellaeon appreciated the play on words. He even imagined how the pirate would actually dig a hole for himself somewhere in the sands of Tatooine. Where they will bury him. "But thank you for reminding me of yourself, Mr. Ferrier. You will receive two million and four hundred thousand for your ship. But, as in the case of Mr. Vane, the starships will first be inspected by imperial technicians. Each unreported breakdown will cost you part of the fee."

The thief opened his mouth, from which fell the rest of the cigar, which he was chewing, not daring to smoke again.

"You should change your career, Grand Admiral," advised the half-breed. "If they could spend money on credit cards like that... I think even Tiber Zann or Jabba, if they heard you speak, would say: 'You're a kid!'"

But the Grand Admiral did not answer anything, he simply ignored his words.

"You have ten minutes to contact your subordinates and order the proposed ships to be brought here for inspection," Thrawn said.

"Uh..." the half-breed hesitated. "I would like to return to my ship, we have problems with the communication system."

"Me too," said "Sniff." Pellaeon almost laughed at the old trick. Do they really hope that this chatter will have any effect on the Grand Admiral?

"Of course," Gilad thought he was deaf. Grand Admiral agreed?! Did you really agree?! Yes, they will now return to the ships and rush into hyperspace! Look for them later! No mercenaries, no promised ships. "Captain, tell me, how accurate are your gunners?"

"Jewelers, sir," Pellaeon embellished the reality a little. Okay, not a little.

"That is, if we carefully shoot off the engines of our guests' ships, the reactors of their freighters will not explode?" the Grand Admiral clarified. The Corellian almost burst out laughing. No, does Thrawn really know how to joke?

"I'm not sure, sir," he said, suppressing a grin. "You know, all these gravitational distortions, stellar wind - we can aim at one point, but we'll hit straight into a habitable module or reactor..."

"Vaunted imperial precision," Yazuo Vane muttered. "Okay, at least give me the comlink. Yes, and I would like to see the money first."

"Of course," Thrawn agreed with suspicious ease. "Captain, order the required amounts to be delivered here. Cash in small denomination credit chips."