Chapter 17 — Every little makes a mickle.

I am alive. Enjoy reading :)

The Strike-class medium cruiser with the menacing name "Striking" left hyperspace. The Intonn II system, located in the Sluissi sector, greeted them with calm and deathly silence. The last notes of the combat siren's aria melted into the air, but Commodore Akrei Dobramu practically did not react to them.

Commander of the Strike-class medium cruiser "Striking"Commodore Akrei Dobramu (check comment)

— Raise the deflectors, scan the space and charge the launcher. Release the fighters,— he ordered. And even though they only have one and a half squadrons on board, no one can deny the fact that the enemy, who has taken refuge on the ground, also has small aircraft. And something heavier.

That is why the "Striking" did not strive to enter orbit, continuing to maintain the necessary distance in order to avoid a possible attack.

They did not come here to engage in a prolonged confrontation. Their task is all possible Hast and reconnaissance.

— Has recording in the logbook begun? —he asked the senior mate.

—Yes, sir,— the lieutenant answered him.

—Okay,— said the commodore. —Keep an eye on the enemy. They must react.

Grand Admiral Thrawn has identified three targets for the three medium cruisers in this sector. They acted in conjunction with the star destroyer Judicator, which was supposed to distract the enemy forces with its own attack, about which neither the commanders nor the crews of the three Strikes knew absolutely anything. Captain Brandei, at the last briefing before the attack, also did not say a single word. But no one complained —if they were not informed, then it was necessary.

Systems Inton, Bpfassh, Ortho. Three goals that they need to —probe.

If the commodore knew enough about his goal, then he could only guess about the other two, based on generally known data.

Ortho, the homeworld of the Ortolan race, was an ice-covered astronomical object. But despite its external unattractiveness, the planet was of great importance for the entire sector. A large amount of heavy metals was mined here, as well as radioactive fuel used in shipbuilding and maintenance of starships being built and undergoing repairs at the shipyards of the planet Sluis Van. The medium cruiser «Reasonable» will strike at these industries. Although, according to Akrei, it would be logical to land several units on the planet and raid the warehouses of ore mining companies —there are never many resources in war. Moreover, it takes the enemy at least five hours to get to Orto from the base on Sluis Van. In the absence of at least some serious protection, the planet can be properly robbed... However, he did not know what order the commander of the Judicious had. It might actually be something worthwhile.

Bpfassh is the location of the Republic patrol base. A small planetary garrison, designed only to keep order. At best, some kind of pellet for orbital inspections. One cruiser is enough to disperse this gathering of fans of wearing military uniforms. Or what order was given to the cruiser sent to this system?!

But Intonn II is already much more serious.

On this planet, back during the Clone Wars, the separatists established their own base, using a Recusant-class light destroyer that crashed on the surface. According to imperial records, the separatists never completed the base; they abandoned it due to capitulation and defeat in the war. The Imperials bombed it from the surface, but judging by the fact that in this system, scout droids discovered the movement of a Y-wing squadron and the revival in the ruins of the Recusant.

Starfighter BTL-B Y-wing (aka "wishbone") (Check comment)

And therefore, it is necessary to check how combat-ready this base is, what forces it has and how quickly it reacts to an invasion. And find out where it is located. Once these goals are achieved, retreat is ordered.

—We are registering enemy ships,— a report was heard from the surveillance console.

— The approach vector? —he asked a new question.

—4-9-7,— came the answer. —Twelve marks. They rise from the surface of the planet. Formation — wedge.

—Transmit telemetry to our fighters,— the Commodore ordered. — Send a squadron to intercept. We keep four fighters in reserve cover. Two are sent along a vector to the surface to confirm the location of the enemy base. Anti-aircraft posts prepare to repel the attack! We use a standard defensive formation.

The "Striking" moved towards danger at mid-speed.

Y-wings, also known as "wishbones" in pilot slang, were not the youngest machines —sometimes there were those that had already seen the Clone Wars. This car is heavy, clumsy, well armored —that's why it has problems with acceleration. The rebels learned to partially offset this disadvantage by removing «extra» armor elements from the engines. To some extent this helped, increasing speed and maneuverability. But in these indicators, enemy vehicles are still far from being comparable to imperial TIE-type vehicles. But they are superior in armament, possessing not only enfilading, but also retiring (in some modifications) guns. Not to mention the presence of launchers in the Y-wings, from which it can easily slam proton torpedoes, which the ship's energy deflector shields will do absolutely nothing to. That's why the rebels use this type of starfighter as bombers if they have escort ships, of course. But in the absence of the same T-65s, BTLs turn into heavy fighters. With weighty «arguments» in your arsenal.

Proton torpedo — for the most part is kinetic weapons and deflectors will not interfere with it in any way. And no one in their right mind would install particle shields on warships on a regular basis — they are insanely expensive. And the load on the reactors is appropriate.

But a proton torpedo can cause a lot of damage — from a hole in the hull to damage to superstructures, detonation of the reactor (if it gnaws through thick armor) and engine nozzles. What if there are twelve of them? Or twenty-four?

With such damage, the cruiser will not last long. In general, very few ships will survive such an attack — except perhaps a Star Destroyer. But even that is not guaranteed. If you know where to shoot, and don't throw shells at the ship «just to make it fly and break something» then the Death Star can be destroyed with a couple of torpedoes.

Meanwhile, the battle flared up.

TIE fighters clashed with BTL. Commodore Dobramu suddenly remembered that captured rebel pilots had spoken of the Y-wings as "wishbones" due to their partially armored fuselage. All for the sake of speed and maneuverability...

However, this will not help them today.

Imperial fighters, due to the lack of heavy armor on them, had amazing characteristics, which they demonstrated in battle with the enemy.

The Imperials and the rebels have been fighting each other for a very long time. It is enough for experienced pilots to study the habits of each other's combat vehicles and their abilities. And this knowledge has been transferred to one degree or another to the new shift of pilots.

Even though those who currently pilot TIE fighters are young and have minimal combat experience, the time spent in virtual simulators makes its presence felt.

The Imperial vehicles took advantage of their machines and mercilessly rained fire on the enemy. But they themselves discovered not green youths at the helm of the "wishbones".

—Two fighters were shot down,— stated the chief officer. — Another one came out of the battle with damaged solar panels. In a minute it will enter the range of the tractor beams, and we will lift it on board.

—Identify enemy ships operating in isolation from the main battle, and fire at them from naval artillery,— the commodore ordered. Recovering himself, he added:

—Warn about our intervention in the battle.

—Yes, sir,— came the voice of the communications officer.

There is a great risk in firing naval artillery in the thick of a battle of light forces. Firstly, there is excess power of turbolasers to destroy maneuverable targets. Secondly, there is a high chance of damaging your own cars. Therefore, the commodore ordered fire on those enemy vehicles that were leaving the scene of the battle. No matter how clever the rebels were, their clumsy fighters on turns were not faster than turbolasers, much less laser cannons.

After the second salvo, the gunners were able to smash into stardust one of the "wishbones" that had flown out of the general confusion of the fighter battle. A short yellow flash and there is neither a combat vehicle nor its pilot. And perhaps two, depending on the modification of enemy ships. But this question is not urgent now —it will be possible to understand exactly which fighters were destroyed after the battle by checking the readings of the ship's sensors.

—Telemetry from the reconnaissance pair,— said the senior mate.

—Report,— the commodore watched the battle, without taking his eyes off the picture of the carnage.

—The base has been discovered,— the first mate said abruptly. — One fighter is lost, the second is returning. Strong anti-aircraft cover. No deflector shields were found.

— Have new enemy starships been discovered? —so many losses. Too much to consider the mission accomplished perfectly. But, on the other hand, who hoped for a different result? Even if they send youngsters to star destroyers who have never smelled Tibanna, then on cruisers they are the same youngsters, but to a large extent even less professional.

—No, sir.

—Okay,— Akrei grinned. Let the fighters have their fun, he has another idea. —Order the last scout to join the battle. Yes, and so did the four fighters of our escort.

—S-sir? —the lieutenant stammered. Dobramu almost cursed. Oh, these youth! Everyone relies on the protection of fighters. They have a cruiser in their hands! Moreover, it is not the weakest.

—Do it, chief officer! —he growled, looking at the officer who had just completed the senior command training course just a month ago. Where I ended up straight from the Academy. And this despite the fact that he never served a day on board a starship!

Oh, how bad things are with qualified personnel in the Empire! We actually have to throw boys into battle... That's why such losses have not yet matured. Meanwhile, they are fighting the rebels, and certainly not among the last.

Having given a new order, Akrei began to watch as the ship bypassed the battlefield of the fighters. A pair of "wishbones" rushed after them, and chaotic green flashes of fire stretched towards them in the hope of driving away the intrusive companions.

After five minutes of furious firefight it was possible, but...

"Striking" flinched as if he had received a punch in the gut.

—There's a hole on the seventh deck! — There were notes of hysteria in the chief officer's voice. — Frames are broken, air leaks, destruction right up to the seventh section!

—Lower the armored doors! —the commodore commanded, wincing. Yes, it's unpleasant, but not critical. The rebels managed to hit his cruiser with their proton torpedoes and they simply have nothing else at hand that can break the shield and hull in one salvo. — Batten down the bulkheads in the area of ​​the hole! Artillery — increase fire on the enemy squadron! Take us into orbit above the enemy base!

After ten minutes of battle, it became clear that half of the sixteen fighters remained intact. The ninth SFU with damaged solar panels was urgently repaired in the hangar in case it was necessary to participate in the battle.

The enemy lost three vehicles. The rest bore traces of a noble beating, but still, the «exchange» was clearly not in favor of the Empire.

Well, that's easy to fix.

— The cruiser is at the given point, Commodore! —said the chief officer. —Rebel fighters are moving towards us to protect their base and...

—Smear it,— Dobramu growled.

—But, sir, the order prescribed only reconnaissance and... the assistant stuttered.

— Destroy the enemy base! — Akrei barked, literally scorching his subordinate with his gaze.

—Yes, sir, yes sir,— came exclamations from the bridge. The officers, taken aback by the direct violation of the commander's order, began to fuss...

«Young people» thought the commodore with relief, who himself had only recently exchanged his third decade of life. But before that, he served aboard a Star Destroyer. And the captain hammered it into the heads of each of his subordinates that not a single rebellious bastard should consider himself victorious in the battle. This destroys the prestige and authority of the Empire and allows the enemy to consider itself stronger.

The enemy built a base on the site of the one that the separatists had around a crashed light star destroyer, disfigured by rust and time. The mountainous terrain gave the rebels some shelter from orbital scanners —so Akrei relied on the readings of the approach vector of enemy fighters and the telemetry of his own reconnaissance pilots. He knew very well that the power of his ship would not be enough to destroy the base —there were not enough turbolasers and not enough time before reinforcements approached the enemy, which he would certainly call.

But the commodore was not going to waste time on a debilitating planetary bombardment with the forces of his artillery.

The first to go were the proton torpedoes, spat out by the launcher over and over again until the artillery magazine was empty. The crew got it done in a few minutes. And then the inferno of ground destruction was diluted by turbolaser glare, sweeping away absolutely everything in its path: buildings, communications, enemy manpower...

The artillery barrage continued for another hour, during which time the rebel base was reduced to a crater of molten slag. The Empire lost three more fighters, the enemy only one. The "Striking" acquired another proton torpedo and this had a sobering effect on the commodore.

—Defensive artillery fire,— he ordered, seeing how the "wishbones" lay down on the course of attack. —We return our pilots and get out of here to the rendezvous point.

Four minutes later, having shot down another New Republic star fighter, the Empire's medium cruiser overcame the light barrier and left the Intonn system, leaving on the second planet from the local star only a huge black spot of slag and the skeletal remains of numerous corpses.

***

Baron D'asta was expressively silent.

We were sitting in a luxuriously furnished office, and had just completed another seemingly meaningless conversation about everything and nothing at the same time. But it only confirmed the intentions expressed by the aristocrat to directly support my vision of the further development of the confrontation between the two galactic superpowers. More than once or twice, the so-called «control questions» came up in the conversation a way to check what was said earlier. The meaning is simple as hell. First, the first question is asked with a clear wording. And after receiving an answer, some time later during the conversation, the same question is asked. To heavily paraphrased. However, the semantic load remains the same. And if the answers differ, this is direct evidence of lack of frankness.

When a sentient speaks the truth, it costs him nothing to repeat it. And in an hour, and in two, and in a year. But if this is a lie invented «on the fly» then remembering it can sometimes be very difficult — because this will require somewhat weakening your attention to the conversation. And the answers will be out of place. Quite a few operatives at one time fell down on such a simple check.

But in this context I have nothing to hide. I do believe that a truce should be reached —but only when the New Republic and the Empire are on equal terms for negotiations. Otherwise... excesses are possible. And considering that in the foreseeable future an entire unfriendly civilization will come to the galaxy... No, I don't really want to live, much less govern a state that is not able to properly protect itself.

—I think we can help you, Grand Admiral,— Baron D'asta said thoughtfully.

—This step will not go unnoticed,— I replied.

— At the moment, my capabilities are somewhat... limited,— said the aristocrat. Well, a veiled version of the answer is «not all at once». Actually, no one promised a «merger of capital» for the sake of coincidence of philosophical reflections. — But I can give you, say, ten CR90 Corvettes. Not the newest ones, of course, but I cannot undermine the defense capabilities of my sector at the moment. The New Republic base is not that far away. For now they are afraid of me, but if they find out that I have withdrawn a significant part of my fleet, they may take a risk and attack. This already happened after we lost the cruisers sent to storm the Hast shipyards a battle group consisting of five Mon Calamari star cruisers was sent to my sector, not counting the escort ships. It was...not easy to fight back.

—I will be grateful for this too,— because in this case I have much more than I could afford by waving credits.

—However, that's not all,— said the Baron. as far as I know, the Imperial Ruling Council does not have the ability to finance your campaign sufficiently.

—The reduction of the territories of Imperial Space has unpleasant consequences in the form of a number of problems,— I noted. — Including a decrease in tax revenues. Lack of finance is a natural result of our policy. There is nothing surprising here.

—My financiers will transfer two hundred and fifty million to your accounts,— the baron said, observing my reaction. It wasn't there. Yes, the money is huge for the average resident of a galaxy far, far away. But it won't be enough to finance a victorious campaign. On the other hand, quite a lot. A lot, if you don't squander it and carefully plan the expenditure side of your budget. Just one such financial injection will be enough to provide my fleet with combat capability for a long time. However, judging by the expression on his face, the Baron was clearly not finished voicing his support. And it's certainly not for nothing that he makes such a broad gesture. After all, for that kind of money he could build himself several victory-class star destroyers at the Empire's shipyards. — Unfortunately, financially I am also slightly limited — it takes a lot of money to maintain the fleet in combat-ready condition and pay salaries. However, my sector is able to offer you all possible assistance, not monetary, but material.

—Is that so? —I became interested.

—We are a completely self-sustaining sector,— said Baron D'asta. —There is a factory in the Celanon system that will provide your soldiers with uniforms—you must understand that we are only talking about fabric uniforms. — I vaguely hinted at an increase in personnel in our conversation over lunch. The Baron rightly judged that we were talking about a volunteer call. I didn't try to dissuade him, because in some ways he was still right. — Unfortunately, we are not able to produce stormtrooper armor. And we purchase uniforms for the regular army in Imperial space.

Both good and bad at the same time. First, we won't have to worry about what to wear for the clones entering the fleet and reinforcing civilian personnel. It's bad —it won't be possible to simply put an army of clone stormtroopers under arms.

—The gas giant Isen in the system of the same name provides us with reserves of Tibanna gas, but the volume of its supplies cannot be large,— said the baron. — You understand the needs of your own fleet.

—Of course,— I said. —I was informed that you have at your disposal technologies for the production of small aircraft of the TIE type. Can I count on replenishing my losses at your factories?

The Baron shook his head.

—I'm sorry, Grand Admiral,— he said. —I sold the production lines two years ago to the Ciutric Hegemony to Prince Admiral Delak Krennel. My fleet is switching to fighters of its own production due to the impossibility of obtaining cheap raw materials for the production of TIE equipment.

— However, you probably still have fighters and other small aircraft of this type, if not in service, then in warehouses? —I suggested. Nothing supernatural — just a guess. Because even the Empire at one time needed years to rearm with more modern weapons. The D'asta sector may be a profitable territory, but not enough to do it en masse.

—Yes, there are,— agreed the Baron. —We sell them in small quantities to the Imperial Remnants.

— Can I be added to the list of regular customers? — An affirmative nod of the head on the part of the aristocrat perfectly conveys the awareness of the fact that he is well aware of my needs. And I certainly don't intend to miss the chance to return my investment in one way or another. Strong business acumen. Friendship is friendship, but profit is separate. He provided me with finances and gave me ten Corellian corvettes. But he clearly does not intend to waste his assets just like that. TIE technology is now at a premium in the worlds of Imperial Space. Consequently, this is a rather profitable enterprise for the baron: on the one hand, with his cash injection, he demonstrates to me his desire to accompany my successes, and on the other, official trade relations between us will remove all suspicions of a double game from him. Not to mention that whether I succeed or not, he will benefit either way. I am sure that if necessary, he can return these funds in simple ways through his daughter.

—Your soldiers are armed with Imperial-style blasters,— I said. — Independent production or procurement?

—First,— said the Baron. — A small arms factory. I am ready to supply you with blasters and explosives. However, I must note that we use maranium as an explosive, which does not meet Imperial standards.

—It's not critical,— I noted. —Can I ask for food supplies from Nez Peron for my people?

—Of course,— agreed the Baron.

After discussing the details and the price of the financial assistance provided, we fell silent again. The Baron was lighting a cigar, his gaze wandering around his library, shelves with information crystals of which were placed along the entire perimeter of the office.

—Your help will greatly influence the implementation of our plan,— I noted. —When the time comes, you will not be forgotten.

—I really hope so, Grand Admiral,— the baron said, puffing out puffs of smoke. Yes, even if he is the same idealist in matters of foreign policy, but after a substantive conversation with him regarding the volume of assistance and his cooperation, there was no suspicion left that the baron was trying with all his might to push the Republic away from its borders. And he understands perfectly well that it is much cheaper for him to finance my struggle than to continue to inflate his own fleet. Yet he is clearly aware of the fact that one day he simply will not be able to maintain him in the necessary combat readiness. And the New Republic can be quite angry, seeing the strengthening of the armed forces in the pro-imperial sector.

During our conversation, the baron more than once pointed out the problematic nature of his neighborhood. This is almost an overt hint. Most likely a check of our preliminary agreement with him. I pointed out during the conversation during the walk that cooperation under the new way of life should be mutually beneficial. Surely the baron wants to test the sincerity of my words in practice. And I am sure that the battle in the Hast system an imperial attack on the shipyards of the then Rebel Alliance —was not mentioned in the conversation for the sake of words.

—How much did you lose in the Battle of Hast? —I asked.

—The entire strike force of mine fleet, requisitioned by the imperial admiral,— the baron looked at me with interest. —This defeat hit my business connections hard and resulted in colossal losses. Some of my clients simply stopped using the services of our transport companies, reasoning that the loss of cruisers would not allow us to continue to successfully carry out their transportation and ensure their protection. More than a hundred large clients have abandoned our services and rely on transport companies of the Pentastar Alignment. And this, in turn, affects the profit and authority of the D'asta family and the entire sector. I could use the lost profit in billions of credits... —the baron pretended to think. —In a more productive direction.

Well, no need to explain. A hint in my direction. You give me —I give you. The condition under which I was ready to cooperate with the Ubiqtorate. On much less favorable terms. Now, in fact, they gave me a «generous advance».

No joke, the baron's proposal with the amount of funding, transferred ships and material supplies is difficult to underestimate. Such actions are said to be a «royal gift». Even if you have to spend some serious money for some of it.

And he hopes for a return favor. With the hint that this will increase the degree of trust between us and the amount of support provided to me will be increased. If the question concerns billions... Then it's worth it. Because for one and a half to two billion credits you can build a superstar destroyer of the Executor type. And this is a completely different level of implementation of my own plans.

—But if you demonstrate a strong response, albeit belated, then the negative consequences can be neutralized,— I suggested.

—Yes,— the baron did not pretend.

—Given the volume of ships destroyed and the passage of time, the response should be in the nature of a large-scale punitive operation,— I continued. D'asta nodded only slightly.

— As your ally, I cannot stand aside,— I said, realizing that my own plans would most likely have to be rescheduled. — The target is the shipyards and space base of the New Republic in the Hast system?

—The place of shame for our ships,— D'asta confirmed. He reached under the table and took out a small data chip from the drawer. —Here is all the information that I have been able to collect over the past few years, having retired from power in the Imperial Ruling Council. It's out of date for six months.

—Intelligence can always be refreshed,— I noted philosophically, putting the crystal in my pocket. —I cannot promise an act of retaliation in the near future —only when a suitable plan is prepared.

—In no case am I rushing you to provide assistance, Grand Admiral,— said the Baron. —However, I would like the issue of restoring my family's reputation to be resolved before the Imperial Ruling Council holds competitions to select a carrier throughout Imperial Space. Losing these contracts will leave tens of thousands of sensible people in my sector out of work. The amount of lost funds will be ten billion imperial credits.

The amount in my understanding is infinitely huge. Considering the scale of the projects I have planned, if I receive at least a tenth of this money, there can be no problems with the implementation of my plans. On the contrary, by spending time solving the problem of Baron D'ast, I will not only be able to strengthen our allied relationship with him, but also, by increasing funding, speed up the implementation of my own plans.

So we made an alliance...

—If you don't mind, Baron,— I rose from my chair, politely nodding to the owner of the office as a sign of respect, —I need to return to the fleet to begin planning the action on Hast.

—I don't dare detain you, Grand Admiral,— the baron said calmly, handing me another data chip. — Here is information about the account where the money was transferred. Ten corvettes are already prepared for transfer only crews are needed for them.

—I'm sure this won't be a problem,— I answered calmly, taking the second chip and leaving the office.

Saying goodbye is not customary in imperial circles.

***

You can die of boredom on Bpfassh.

An arid double planet orbiting a common center of gravity. Temperate climate. And lifeless wastelands around. Not just a kilometer, two, three... Any piece of land in this world is one lifeless planet.

It is surprising that the Jedi Praxekum could once be located here, given the attitude of the locals towards the Order. Negative, even hostile.

Fodeum scratched his stubbled chin as he watched the New Republic fighters return to their base. In some places fires were still raging, in some places medical aircars were scurrying about. But it cannot be said that the strengthening of the rulers of the galaxy suffered greatly. So, the Imperials circled around the planet, shot at the base as a warning, shot down several enemy vehicles, lost a couple of their own —there, the skeletons of downed TIE fighters are burning out just north of the outpost. That's all. The raid and dive attack on a ground object failed.

This was the end of the raid.

—It's some kind of nonsense,— he said thoughtfully, sipping caf. Since when did the Empire become so merciful? Previously, during their raids, they compared everything they could reach to tectonic plates —they did not care about the casualties among the local population loyal to the New Republic. And now... Something incomprehensible.

Or does he simply not see the whole picture, as his mentor liked to tell him? No, it's some kind of nonsense. What does he care about all this?

He was young a little over thirty. Well built, with a good-looking appearance. His ship was at the spaceport, and during the raid Fodeum was very worried that the Imperials would start destroying everything.

But the worries receded into the background almost immediately when the goal of the Imperials became clear —the base of the New Republic. The rest seemed not to interest them at all. Well, maybe so.

-Are you drinking again? — A young Twi'lek woman sank down opposite him, busily appropriating a bottle of an inexpensive soft drink. The girl uncorked the container and sniffed it. —Juice?

—Did you expect there to be Corellian whiskey here? — Fodeum grinned, taking another sip.

—You have such a habit,— Spity grimaced. Actually, her partner's name was different, but that didn't change the fact that she always didn't like something. A hastful person. Who recently decided that she dares to tell her captain when he should drink alcohol and when not. —Usually by lunchtime you're drunk to the point of squealing.

The man glanced at his wrist chronometer.

—I still have about fifteen minutes,— he said with a grin. The Twi'lek clicked her tongue disapprovingly, clearly prepar «Graceful Lady» okay? — he asked, looking around contentedly. A small open-air cantina on the very outskirts of the spaceport. The minimum number of visitors are mostly the same seekers of easy money as the couple. But now there was not a soul here —the locals preferred to sit at home after the raid. The streets will be quiet for an hour and a half —until Republican patrols comb the area. And what are they looking for?

—Yes,— the girl snorted. —Me too, by the way.

—I noticed,— Fodeum smiled. He was not an evil person. But he wasn't kind either. He just liked to tease his assistant and girlfriend.

—You could have asked if everything was okay,— the Twi'lek stuck her tongue out at him offendedly. Eh, women-women. She is no less old than him, but behAves like a girl.

—For what? —he smiled. and so everything is visible. Your arms and legs are in place, your clothes are with you, your lekku is in order. And your bottomless eyes...

—It would be better if we had bottomless pockets full of credits! —the girl blurted out. — If you forgot, we have already unloaded the goods. The transportation contract is closed. And we need to look for a new job if we want to finally fix the anti-gravity devices and no longer have problems with the authorities regarding the method of our landing.

—So what's wrong with the fact that we are descending on the march? —Fodeum thought wearily. ——Just think the roar throughout the whole area, as if rancors are in mating season.

Fodeum Sabre De'Luz and Spity (check comment).

—Do you have any ideas? —he asked. The girl shook her head negatively.

— And you? —she asked a little more quietly.

—Also deaf,— he was forced to admit. —There is nothing...

They have worked together long enough to understand each other without unnecessary words.

While Spity was arranging the goods for the client, Fodeum hit the road to the coordinates, which he bought from an information dealer for a tidy sum. But the Jedi failed to profit from the ruins of Praxekum. He didn't find anything that he could sell for any money. And the Force was silent...

and I told you that the locals cleared everything out there,— the girl shook her finger at him. —So many years have passed! But you are stubborn among us, Fodeum Sabre De'Luz! Everything should be the way you want it!?

— An attempt is not torture,— the man shrugged. —This could be a good jackpot.

— And it turned out to be another stupid waste of money! — the girl said offendedly, folding her arms over her chest.

—You didn't say that when we bought you delicacies,— Fodeum chuckled. — and they cost us almost a thousand credits, by the way —three times more expensive than I paid for the card.

—But I was happy for a whole week,— said Spity. — and you didn't roll your eyes and say: «Woman, stop eating my brain!»

—That's why you're still alone,— the man chuckled. -Your appetites are exorbitant.

—No, it's just... the girl wanted to blurt out something, but stopped short. Sabre De'Luz. tensed, seeing that the Twi'lek was looking somewhere over his shoulder. —Don't turn around.

—Otherwise the rancor will eat me? Fodeum chuckled. And then felt that the Force was persistently talking about danger. He put his hand on the blaster to fall from the chair and shoot himself behind his back, but someone's strong hand fell on his shoulder, and the barrel of the blaster poked between his shoulder blades. «Well fu...!»

— Hands on the table, guy,— a voice was heard behind him. Judging by the dialect a man. — And you, xenos, too!

—I'm a Twi'lek! — the girl snapped. But still, her graceful palms found a place on the tabletop. —Not a monster, some kind of...

—I don't care,— the trunk poked even more painfully between Fodeum's shoulder blades, as if he was trying to make a hole in him without the help of the tibanna. — Is your ship underway?

—You see, we have some minor technical problems... the man tried to speak his teeth to the uninvited guest, while simultaneously calling on the Force as an ally in the hope that...

—I'll make a fist-sized hole in your sternum now,— the unknown man promised. But the captain of the Graceful Lady had already guessed who was behind him. And why are republican warriors roaming the city so furiously? — And then in your xenos!

— And then a patrol will come here and poke holes in you, Imperial,— Fodeum developed his thought. —It's unlikely that you got out of your ship only to die in an unnecessary firefight.

—You understand a lot,— snorted the pilot of one of the downed imperial bombers.

—What do you want from us? —Spity creaked her pearly teeth.

—Our new friend wants to get away from the planet,— Fodeum answered for the Imperial. —So I understand that the raid was not a success and your team left, forgetting to pick you up?

—You talk a lot,— the man standing behind him pressed the barrel of the blaster so that it almost broke through the thick vest. — Access codes from your ship!

—It won't help you, boy,— Fodeum shook his head. — There are biometric scanners on the ignition. Me and my partner,— it's good that Spity remained silent, without exposing his bluff. —I spent a hundred thousand on them, but not a single attempt at theft worked. So you will need us alive —or you can carry our dead bodies. But then you won't be able to use the voice interface of the lock on the ramp...

—But we can help each other,— Spity unexpectedly said. Fodeum looked at her in surprise. The Imperial, judging by the weakening pressure of the blaster on the back of his hostage, did the same. —You want to get off the planet, don't you, Imperial?

—Yes,— he answered. Fodeum allowed himself to turn his head. A tall, stately middle-aged man with red hair and a short beard. And even though he was dressed in rags, which he obviously stole from the yard of a nearby house, the captain of the Graceful Lady could bet that under this disguise he was wearing a black suit of imperial pilots. At least the uniform boots on his feet supported this statement.

— And we have a ship and a desire to earn extra money,— Spity continued. — Your superiors will be grateful to us for the fact that our freighter will take you to the base?

—Yes,— the imperial didn't think for long. Or maybe he's just lying. Fodeum reached out to him with the Force, but to his surprise did not detect a feeling of deception emanating from the imperial.

—Well, stop pretending to be a proud fighter against xenos here and let's go to the ship while the patrols are combing other quarters,— suggested Fodeum, furtively winking at Spity. Well done, I figured it out! —Your disguise is not the best. And his face is like that of a thug.

Feeling a slight slap on the head, Fodeum groaned.

—Move to the ship,— ordered the imperial pilot. —If you try to betray me, I'll kill you on the spot.

—No one is going to hand you over to anyone,— sighed Spity. — The New Republic does not pay citizens compensation for ordinary warriors. If you were a spy, that would be a different matter.

Fodeum looked at his partner in a new light. And where, pray tell, does she know such details?

—So, put away the blaster and make your face nicer,— Spity continued to make fun of the Imperial. —Otherwise the law enforcement officers will notice you, as soon as they look at you.

—Talk less, alien — the Imperial jerked his blaster, letting Fodeum know that it was time to get up. He stood up resignedly. — Do more.

— As you say,— she shrugged, also getting up from the table. —Do you even have a name, Imperial?

—Captain Tomax Bren,— he muttered through his teeth.

—Fodeum Sabre De'Luz,— his captive introduced himself to the imperial. and this cute, tongue-tied person is a Spity.

—That's not my name,— she was offended.

—I don't care,— said Captain Tomax Bren, pushing Fodeum in the back with a blaster. —Move, both of you!

Captain Tomax Bren (check comment).

With a tired sigh, Fodum Sabre De'Luz, the failed defender of the Jensaarai, together with his partner and colleague in misfortune, walked through the narrow streets of the spaceport to their ship.

***

Left alone with Rukh in the section of the Stormhawk reserved for us, I began to review the information received. And also summing up intermediate results.

A little over a month has passed since I found myself in this universe.

I inflicted a significant defeat on the enemy, defeating, albeit weakened, but still a sectoral group of the New Republic.

I have a forward base on the planet Lainuri in the center of the southern part of the galaxy, occupied by the enemy.

I have a rear base — the entire star sector of Morshdine, with an imperial fortress world. There is an orbital repair shipyard of the second type, capable of not only repairing, but also assembling ships of the class up to the Star Destroyer. The capital world of the sector is guarded by a fleet consisting of one Immobilizer 418 class interdictor cruiser, two Strike class medium cruisers, two Nebulon-B class escort frigates, a Mark-1 class assault frigate (but I already have an idea how to use this miracle of technology in a more advantageous format, and therefore, as promised, Moff Ferrus will need to transfer another "Strike"), a light cruiser of the carrack class. And twelve Tartans, one to patrol each star system under the Moff's control.

There is also a fleet of nine Imperial-class star destroyers, three victories, three Interdictor-class star destroyers, one Immobilizer 418-class interdictor cruiser, seven Strike-class medium cruisers, and eight more Tartans, twelve CR90-class Corellian corvettes, one DP20-class Corellian frigate, and Star Galleon-class frigates...

The asset also includes Spaarti cloning cylinders. Technology of cloaking devices based on hybridium. An ocean of asteroids in Tangrene orbit. Extraction of rhydonium. Eighty-one working "miners" and fifty not quite working ones.

Somewhere out there a Golan II type defensive platform is reaching us. And the Nemesis flies to Tangrene with Captain Hoffner inside. And through it I will have the opportunity to get to the "Katana fleet"...

Problems with maintaining, feeding and arming the fleet can be partly solved due to the complacency of Baron D'ast.

The «best day» is also completed by the understanding that the money problem has been partly solved.

Two hundred and fifty million imperial credits — from Baron D'ast. And they still have to be «worked out».

Two Hundred Million credits — Captured aboard Coral Vanda. Together with Mr. Hoffner.

Twenty million and a huge pile of «trophies» — from the Nkllon robbery.

And if I think about it, the remaining funds I have from those that were at the disposal of the original Admiral Thrawn are enough to «finish off» my piggy bank to half a billion imperial credits.

Not a bad amount. You can build three Imperial-class Star Destroyers. You just need to wait a couple of months. Well, or six months — depending on the performing shipyards. You can buy yourself defensive platforms like Golan II. You can simply buy weapons with all the money...

Yes, a lot of things are possible with such amounts. But they are needed for war.

And ships are also needed for war. And the ships —in particular the Katana Fleet —will need repairs and spare parts. And you will have to try very hard to make sure everything goes as it should. These ships should not only be repaired, but also partially modernized. Otherwise they will become easy prey. Very light.

Having twelve CR90s made me happy these ships are able to stay in the Imperial hangar during the flight. Therefore, all nine Star Destroyers will now be equipped with them. Such ships are not suitable for Victory — the hangar size is smaller. But the dimensions of the DP20 allow it to move with the victory. This means we will have to find two more of these gunship frigates. Because "Victory" will have to be recalled from patrol and sabotage missions as soon as "Steel Aurora"and "Crusader" complete their tasks. Should the Unshakeable be recalled from Wayland's guard? No, probably not worth it. «Officially» it is known that I have only two "Victories". Let it be so. Therefore, it is necessary to increase the firepower in the linear fist. What is suitable for this? Star Destroyers. This means it's time to gather our strength into a fist. Doryu on Garos IV can be replaced. "Interdictor" in the Chasin system can also be revoked. What to replace it with? There is something "Strikes" and "tartans". There is one "Immobilizer 418" available. He can be sent to the Chasin system to continue patrolling. Strengthen with one "Strike" with the no less zealous commander Akrei Dobramu, who managed to get damaged in a simple mission. In general, they are punished for this, but judging by his track record, he is a good officer. We need to sober up a little. A dull patrol service consisting of a formation of one medium cruiser, a pair of patrol Tartans and an Immobilizer will do him good.

The freed-up Interdictor can and should be put to work. After all, this is a Star Destroyer with gravitational funnel projectors. Like its sibling, these two ships effectively bring the number of first-line Star Destroyers to eleven. Good but not enough. Need more. I already have plans for one —the plan should soon begin to be implemented. A quick look at the information on the Hast shipyards is also encouraging —there is something to profit from there. And there is also an awareness of the fact that such an attack will not remain without retaliatory punishment. And it will change too much in the behavior of both the New Republic and the Empire.

Consequently, either the blow must be delivered in such a dramatic way as to discourage or deprive the opportunity to respond, or it is necessary to have the resources to repel a counter-offensive. As long as you can plan calmly, that's good. As soon as events spin like a squirrel in a wheel, miscalculations and shortcomings in planning will appear. Each of these could cost me ships and my life. This is unacceptableat least not yet.

The Hast system... The rebels' secret shipyard, where they drove a huge amount of damaged imperial equipment, in the hope of someday restoring it. Judging by the available data, at least four Imperial-class star destroyers and up to two dozen ships of a lower rank are undergoing sluggish repairs there. A huge amount of equipment, including TIE... which are dismantled for metal.

This fact alone made me feel indifferently painful. So I have problems with all this, and the New Republic just takes good equipment and puts it under the knife!? Disorder. But it would be worse if they ended their activities. Due to the lack of funding, what can be repaired, workers at this shipyard dismantle for parts what is too time-consuming and expensive to repair. It is unpleasant.

Therefore, I will have to speed up the implementation of my plan.

I leaned back in my chair and considered the odds for a moment.

I played the card of attacking the Sluis Van shipyard. And preparations were made for just such an attack. Now they are clearly indicating to me that I should adjust my plans (whatever they were in the opinion of Baron D'ast) and strike at the Hast shipyards. Despite the fact that Sluis Van is virtually unprotected, but Hast... I really don't want to get involved with the enemy fleet guarding this cemetery of imperial equipment. But otherwise I will lose the support of the baron and the D'astan sector, and it is more than necessary for the implementation of my own ultimate plan.

Perform the same trick twice? No, that won't work. The scale of the «tragedy» is too large. The enemy will not fall for the same trap twice...

If only you give him time to figure out what happened!

This means that the plan will have to be adjusted again. And even on such a scale... Is there enough strength? The Baron seemed to be in no hurry, but gave clear deadlines —until the conclusion of transportation contracts. I don't know the exact date, but I'm sure that finding it out upon returning to Tangrene will not be a big problem.

This means there are deadlines. And they are unlikely to be too long a month or two at most. Make a request now? No, it will look too suspicious. There are smart people in the Empire too. It is easy to establish a connection between the request about the timing of the transportation competition, which Baron D'asta claims to win, and my visit to his sector.

Therefore, will have to speed up. It is necessary to resolve the problems with Hypori, New Cov, Garm Bel Iblis and Niles Ferrier as quickly as possible. Not to mention the "Katana fleet". And if the mechanical problems with the latter can be solved through additional funding and cloning of technicians, then providing these ships with crews and additional equipment... will not be easy. It's not very easy.

Fourteen days are needed to create a batch of madness-resistant clones —let's assume that the medical examination of the clones is completed in the near future and shows positive results. There are currently sixteen thousand Spaarti cloning cylinders in operation. To provide crew members for the dreadnought alone, two thousand reasonable ones are required. In total, I will be able to complete only eight dreadnoughts in one batch. A standard month has thirty-five days. Consequently, in a month the full cloning cycle will be available to only two batches —thirty-two thousand people. That's sixteen dreadnoughts. Taking into account the remaining seven days of the billing month, we make adjustments... In two months, it will be possible to produce five full batches of clones. Eighty thousand people. These are forty dreadnoughts equipped with crew members. If we manage to bring back into service the currently inactive four thousand cloning cylinders, we will be able to produce one hundred thousand clones in two monthsand that's already ten more complete dreadnoughts.

There are now nearly two hundred such ships in the "Katana fleet". Therefore, I need four to five months of continuous cloning to get the entire fleet in combat-ready condition.

It's... long. But this was consistent with my calculations of striking Sluis Van by the end of the year so that the massacre in the Sluissi sector would become the finale of Thrawn's campaign, and not the battle for Bilbringi.

Give up partnership with Baron D'asta? No, this is a very stupid idea. At least because otherwise I will have to look for other sources of supply and at least food for the army of clones. At the same time, I have no doubt that the baron will be able to use his influence for revenge. I am sure that Grand Moff Ardus Kaine will not fail to deal with me for some far-fetched reason. For example, on charges of treason.

Therefore, agreements must be respected, even if they lead to a violation of the basic plan. Which will have to be adjusted again...

Okay, let's look at the situation piece by piece. I can't pull off the same trick twice. I cannot delay the attack on the Hast shipyard and I cannot allow the attack on Sluis Van to fail. But I don't have enough ships to attack both shipyards at the same time even after receiving dreadnoughts, I simply won't have time to put them into operation by the right time. I simply won't have time to complete it.

Organize a volunteer call? Yes, this will allow you to «gain mass». But judging by the quality of the volunteers flocking to Tangrene, it is clear that not the most qualified personnel are arriving. Consequently, this threatens the very existence of the ships due to the incompetence of the crews —the attack in the Inclonn system demonstrated this. In fact, we were wiped out by the squadron. Just one squadron...

The warlord Zsinj once attracted mercenaries and pirates to attack Kuat. And he, in general, managed to carry out his plans. But it will cost a lot of money... But there is money...

This means that you can once again adjust the plan and... Return to the relatively original introductory notes. Sluis Van as the finale of the company.

Another point is that if I plan to expand my fleet including star destroyers, then I need even more clones —on the Imperial alone the crew is more than thirty-seven thousand people. These are two batches of clones and a little more on top...

Okay, let's solve the problems of particulars. The issue of copying Spaarti cloning cylinders needs to be explored. Will we be able to increase their numbers on our own? Or is the best we can hope for only the restoration of what we already have? To be honest, I doubt the first, but I really hope for the second.

"Errant Venture". This is the most obvious and promising goal. Imperial Star Destroyer «twos». And there is an opportunity to get it.

"Katana Fleet" We must take it without talking. Crews are a separate issue. After all, this is an automated fleet and the number of crew members on board can be minimal a hundred people, for example. Yes, a very risky step, but...

I really don't want to have to use C'baoth to attack Hast now, even though it's a godsend. Because the mad master will probably once again begin to remind you of the Jedi and...

Stop. Recorded the thought.

C'baoth. Jedi.

The mad cloned Jedi knows about Corran Horn from me. Corran Horn is a Rogue Squadron pilot. This unit is now located in the Dafilvean sector. They will probably now be transferred to the Sluissi sector to investigate what happened there.

But at the same time, Corran Horn is also a Corellian. This people are rebels, free-thinking people and almost always they do everything as they see fit. When it comes to loved ones, there is no enemy more terrible and meticulous than the Corellian. And if he also has sensitivity to the Force and was trained as an operational agent of KorBaz, then this is a bloodhound for everyone. Such a one will unravel the tangle of any incident associated with danger to his loved ones, no matter what the cost. If necessary, he will leave the service and seek help from those with whom he does not particularly get along.

Corran Horne is married to Mirax Terrik. As far as I remember, they both dote on each other. At the same time, the father-in-law does not like his son-in-law for his «CorSec» past, since Horn's father hid Mirax's father in Kessel. True, it was a long time ago, but Horn's father-in-law is such a person —he doesn't forget anything. And he loves his daughter more than anything in the world.

Father of Mirrax Terrik — Booster Terrik.

Booster Terrik owns the Errant Venture. The Destroyer does not have full-fledged weapons and means of defense. But it is a destroyer, and it is mobile, as well as dangerous even in this state. Terrik has connections in the criminal world at his fingertips, contacts with Talon Karrde.

I am hunting this Imperial Star Destroyer. Horn is being hunted by C'baoth. Booster Terrik doesn't like Horn. Talon Karrde is too dangerous a figure in this party to be left alive. But after the capture of the Katana Fleet, I don't need him alive. Alive, with all his plans and information, he is too tasty a target for those who intend to divide this galaxy.

Curious, but so am I. But I'm only afraid of crazy Palpatine.

Therefore... Hmm, interesting thought.

The plan came together. The circle is closed.

Soon it will be... interesting.

P.S. I'm honestly interested in how fan fictions with 10-20 chapters, published along with my translation, and honestly not standing out in terms of quality or quantity, receive hundreds of thousands of views and hundreds of comments, while this masterpiece is viewed tens of times less, although here both the quality and quantity are superior . Personally, I have no complaints against other authors, since I am one myself. I am puzzled by the principle of the popularity algorithm. Although, maybe I don't understand something. For example, I don't understand why the world scientific community rejects the theory of luminiferous ether. In any case, I will surpass all other fanfic and novel authors and translators. Now chapters will be published every day, perhaps even two per evening.