The enemy had only just engaged in battle, and Admiral Duplex already understood that it was lost.
He watched as the Crimson Dawn, once leading the Fourth Fleet of the New Republic Defense Force, literally tore apart the escort starships of the interdictor cruisers with rocket and cannon fire.
One after another, the shields of the MC80 failed under such monstrous pressure and collapsed, exposing the sturdy but defenseless milky-gray hulls of the New Republic starships to the Dominion forces.
No mercy, no negotiations.
The Dominion fleet acted from a position of strength, knew it, used it, and in short minutes, the fate of the fleet under the Zeltrosian's command was decided.
"The interdictors report an attack by boarding bots!" reported on the bridge.
Argentis silently looked at the tactical display.
One fast dreadnought, four Imperial-class Star Destroyers, four dozen Dreadnought-class heavy cruisers, three Gladiator-class Star Destroyers, from whose hangars slipped out Xg-1 gunboats unusual for the Empire at the current time, several dozen Corellian corvettes.
Victory over the Orinda fleet was turning into defeat.
"All ships — move at cruising speed to point seven-nine-nine," he said in an even tone. "Conduct barrage fire on the cruisers and corvettes."
"Sir, but the destroyers of Imperial Space are practically destroyed…"
That was the commander of his flagship.
Duplex gave him a calm look.
"Carry out the order, Captain," he said. "To finish off these destroyers, we need at least half an hour of intensive shelling. In that time, the Red Star squadron will grind us to powder."
"Sir, but we have more heavy ships, we can still win the battle or call for reinforcements…"
In the first ten minutes of the battle with the Red Star squadron, his battered fleet lost ten star cruisers and all support ships. The gunners of the Crimson Dawn literally swept them away, turning them into scrap metal.
And almost immediately it became clear that the interdictor cruisers were doomed.
The enemy behind them lined up their heavy cruisers, which overloaded the shields with hurricane fire, while the fast and maneuverable corvettes dealt with the artillery.
Having driven off the New Republic starships from the Immobilizers with fire, the fast dreadnought landed troops on the ships — and four Star Destroyers helped them in this.
From the coordination of actions, it was perfectly clear that this was not a hastily assembled formation.
This was a well-coordinated fleet — from corvette to the dreadnought itself.
They destroyed the combat escort, drove off the battered starships, and developed the offensive until five line ships of Shohashi could cover eleven battered Star Destroyers of Orinda with the fire of their guns and deflector shields.
The hint was more than transparent — Shohashi was taking the interdictors for himself.
All of them.
And covering the damaged ships with fire.
"We are retreating, Captain," the Zeltrosian said firmly. "Victory in battle with an enemy who has qualitative superiority over us can only be dreamed of in feverish delirium."
"Sir, but we are leaving them Brentall IV!" the flagship commander was indignant.
"Look at what is happening again," Argentis advised. "They came here to prevent us from defeating the Orinda fleet. Our interdictors they are taking as a bonus."
"But how…"
"Brentall is not needed by them — it is strategically valuable in terms of logistics, but in a day or two, the entire First Fleet will be here. They cannot hold the planet. Moreover, Thrawn does not seek to occupy worlds remote from his Dominion. And I doubt they are so stupid as to attack a planet whose holding would require maximum possible forces from them. No, they will not even attack the orbital defense stations."
"Sir, but in all battles, the New Republic stood to the end!"
"And now look at what remains of those fleets that acted on this principle?" Argentis asked a rhetorical question at the moment when the distance between his remaining ships and the Orinda starships, taken under the protection of the Crimson Dawn and the quartet of Star Destroyers, was less than eighty units.
As he expected, Shohashi did not rush to pursue them.
He rearranged the ships in a defensive formation and dealt with the interdictor cruisers.
Naturally, soon the gravity wells ceased operation.
The artificial gravity field stopped holding the Republican fleet in orbit around Brentall IV.
"Course to orbit," the Zeltrosian ordered. "We will sit out under the protection of the Golan stations. The faster we restore the ships, the sooner we can meet the Imperials in future battles."
"Sir, we abandoned the interdictor crews!"
"But saved hundreds of thousands of lives of other sentients," Admiral Duplex objected. "As for me, this is the best outcome in the current conditions. We have to admit that here Grand Admiral Thrawn outwitted us."
"Only here?" the ship commander grumbled, pointing to how the Dominion starships were leaving in a hyperspace jump.
Taking with them all the interdictor cruisers.
And eleven practically destroyed Star Destroyers of Orinda.
There was no doubt that after some time they would participate in battles under the identification data of the regular Dominion fleet.
Grand Admiral Thrawn once again outplayed the New Republic military.
Not personally, but still.
However, there was a positive side to the question.
Today they were not crushed into interstellar dust.
Today they managed to inflict a major defeat on the Imperials, destroying a dozen and a half of their starships.
Which had not happened in principle — since Grand Admiral Thrawn took the helm of the Empire's war machine.
Weak, but at least some consolation.
In the absence of victories, the absence of complete destruction would do.
"Contact General Bel Iblis," Admiral Duplex ordered. "Report to him everything that happened."
***
Darth Maul, absorbing the pain and suffering of his victim, pulled the lightsaber from the chest of his opponent.
The mechanical foot disdainfully pushed the cooling body with a hole in place of the heart, and the man in completely black clothes collapsed to the floor of the hangar.
""Dark Side Elite," huh?" the Zabrak smirked. "Well, well."
The Shadow Guard, pulling the lightstaff of the fallen opponent to himself, looked towards the black, like night itself, four-legged beasts not taking their hungry gaze off him.
Their entire appearance — raised fur, powerful paws and bodies, eyes burning with hunger — indicated that the vornskrs were ready to attack.
Their strong, dagger-like fangs were stained with blood. Between some of them, scraps of flesh and black fabric were visible.
"What are you waiting for?" the Zabrak asked discontentedly, taking a step aside and nodding towards the corpse. "Eat while I'm kind."
It didn't need to be repeated twice — the predators rushed at the command to the still warm victim, beginning to tear Baddon Fass's body to pieces.
The beasts want blood.
And the Zabrak understood them in this aspiration.
His blood was boiling, and literally seething.
He had won, but wanted to fight further.
"More killings."
"More pain and suffering that enemies emit in their dying hour."
"More doom and collapse of life's hopes that imprint on their faces in the moments when the lightsaber ends a worthless life…"
"More assignments."
Darth Maul looked at the remains of two more representatives of the Dark Side Elite scattered around the hangar of Tibannopolis, then activated the holoprojector.
The device flickered, and a miniature holographic figure of Grand Admiral Thrawn appeared before the Zabrak's yellow eyes.
"The assignment on Bespin is completed," Maul said, poorly hiding his pleasure, suppressing with willpower the raging fury and adrenaline of the just-finished battle inside him.
"Were your actions detected by other Imperials?" Thrawn asked calmly.
"Not at all," he replied. "I lured the opponents to an abandoned city. Tibannopolis. And destroyed them here. I also want to say that using vornskrs as hunting beasts for Force-sensitives is a fully working mechanism."
"Is that so," the Grand Admiral reacted in the same indifferent voice. "It turns out, Baddon Fass had other representatives of the Dark Side Elite with him, since you speak of several victims?"
Thrawn behaves as if talking about something mundane.
Maul suppressed the irritation that stirred up the still uncalmed emotions.
"That's right," he replied. "Baddon Fass and two more."
And now interest appeared on Thrawn's face.
But a moment later, he turned into a semblance of a droid that had seen so much in its lifetime that nothing else was worth attention.
"This is good news, Darth Maul," the Dominion ruler said. "How easy was it to defeat them?"
"The vornskrs tore those two to pieces," the Zabrak snorted. "With Baddon, I had to tinker. He was well trained — like my previous target. But no match for me."
"Good," Thrawn said. "There will be a new assignment for you."
"Which of the Dark Side Elite can I kill this time?" Darth Maul bared his teeth, anticipating new killings.
"It is important to conduct a diversion," Thrawn said. "The coordinates of the target have already been sent to you."
A small disappointment.
"Diversion?"
This wouldn't even make him sweat.
Unlike killing Force-sensitive servants of Palpatine.
Here he could easily get almost physical satisfaction from his work.
But orders are not argued with.
Especially since something interesting is brewing.
"Yes, Grand Admiral," he said, a moment earlier sensing a change in the Force. "I am ready to proceed with the assigned task immediately."
"Don't rush, Darth Maul," Thrawn stopped him. "First, I want to receive holophotos of the underlings of Palpatine you killed. Then you will be sent data on the next target."
"Yes, master," the Zabrak said hastily, impatiently watching as a flying gas reconnaissance platform approached the hangar.
And there was a human on it.
"Force-sensitive!"
"A new enemy!"
"A new victory!"
"A new killing!"
"My title and rank sound different, Shadow Guard Maul," Thrawn said coldly.
His speech in everyday life does not differ in colors of emotions, and now it could freeze planets.
"I apologize, Grand Admiral," the Zabrak corrected himself. "My blood is boiling after the battle, I misspoke without malicious intent."
"Do not repeat such slips anymore, Darth Maul," Thrawn advised him before the hologram disappeared.
The Zabrak hastily put away the communicator, gripping the lightstaff more comfortably.
He already saw the man — a middle-aged human dressed in heavy equipment.
He moved quickly, one could even say, almost running towards him.
But there was no weapon in his hands.
"What a fool?"
The vornskrs, sensing living prey, tore their bloody muzzles from the corpse, turning their attention to the approaching figure.
"He is mine," Darth Maul clarified priorities.
It seems there were four elites here.
Well, an extra reason to warm up and feed the Dark Side with a delightful surge of adrenaline from a new killing.
Growling something inarticulate, Maul rushed forward, activating his blades.
In one leap, he was next to the victim, swung to cut him in half.
A small part of his mind, always free from the animal aggression of battle, stopped his hand.
The man was kneeling before him, folding his hands in a pleading gesture.
Tears flowed from his eyes down his weathered face, and in the Force, this man seemed broken, wounded, destroyed, deprived of everything…
Unhappy.
Maul shuddered, remembering his state after losing to the Jedi on Naboo.
"Broken, discarded, shattered into pieces…"
The red blades retracted into the hilt with a hiss.
"Who are you and why did you come here?" he asked discontentedly, praying to the Dark Side that the man would now rush at him and try to kill.
The Zabrak was overflowing with a thirst for killing.
And before, he would have done it without thinking about the consequences, but not now.
"He is a beast only in battle, but the battle is over, and a new one is not hastening to begin."
"Now he is the Shadow Guard."
"And before him is a man who has suffered almost the same fate as he himself decades ago."
"Moreover, he is Force-sensitive."
"Recruiting new members to the Order is one of the tasks of the Jenssarai Order members."
"And, may Palpatine burn in a star's corona, the Shadow Guard is also Jenssarai!"
"Please, sir," the man said in a breaking voice. "Help me."
"Help?" Maul stepped back, bewildered, looking at the madman. "What are you thinking about, you fool? I was born and created to kill! My help can only consist in that!"
"Then I beg you," the man wiped tears from his face. "Kill the voices in my head. I can't fight this whisper. All these voices, all these thoughts, there are so many of them, they are so loud. Let all these people shut up. Let them stop filling my head with their rage. I want silence. As it was before they came. Please, silence the voices in my head! You must feel them too! You must hear them! You know how to deal with it!"
"Voices in your head?" Darth Maul laughed, throwing his head back. "You've lost your mind. That you are Force-sensitive doesn't mean I'll help you fight madness."
"It's not a disease!" the man shouted, rising from the floor with pain on his face. "The voices came when they came," he pointed a finger at the ceiling.
Maul followed his direction, then shook his head.
"Tibannopolis is an abandoned city. There's no one here. Except you, madman."
"I'm not mad!" the man's hands clenched into fists, and at the same time, the Force picked up Maul, spinning him like in a tornado. "The voices are here! There are voices! On the ships! Ships full of voices! Let them stop speaking in my head!"
It took considerable effort to overcome that spontaneous onslaught with which the unknown attacked him.
Maul simply released the uncontrollable power of the Dark Side, destroying the tornado created by the unknown.
The vornskrs growled, approaching the victim.
"Stay!" the Zabrak ordered, approaching the man.
His lightsaber poked the emitter right into the geologist's throat.
"Voices, you say," the Zabrak hissed in the man's face.
"Yes," the unknown nodded.
"Have you heard them before?"
"I heard other voices. And escaped here, away from others. The voices disappeared. But ships came and stayed in orbit. Warships. Many voices. All want to kill. All evil. It hurts! I can't hide from them anywhere."
"You sensed me, didn't you?" the Zabrak narrowed his eyes.
"I felt how you made the most evil voices shut up," the man admitted. "Help me. I can't take it anymore…"
The Zabrak laughed softly.
"You don't hear voices in your head, human," he said. "You hear thoughts. Emotions. Intentions of sentients — this is one of the abilities of the Force. You are an empath. And since you hear the thoughts of other sentients who are in orbit of the planet, hear the intentions of the New Republic soldiers…"
"Make them shut up," the man sobbed. "It hurts…"
The man collapsed to his knees, burying his face in his hands.
The Zabrak laughed silently, placing his hand on the guest's head.
Even the vornskrs exchanged puzzled looks.
"I won't make them all shut up," Darth Maul said, forcing the man to look straight into his eyes, holding his head by the chin. "But I can introduce you to someone who can. If he agrees, then I will teach you to shield your mind from them. That thing with the weather you attacked me with… Can you make it stronger?"
"Yes!" the man said pleadingly. "Please! I'll do everything in my power to make the voices shut up!"
"For that, you must come with me," Darth Maul raised an eyebrow. "I'll do everything to make you the one who silences evil voices."
The man smiled wearily, nodding.
"Anything. Just let them shut up."
"They will shut up," Darth Maul smirked. "All evil voices will shut up. You and I will do it. But first, I want to know your name."
The man sighed with relief as Maul directed the Force at him, partially suppressing the uncontrollable energy of the stranger.
"Thank you," he said. "Thank you, sir…"
Maul slapped him without warning, his eyes flashing.
The stranger looked at him fearfully, rubbing the struck cheek.
"Lesson one — don't dare ignore my questions," the Zabrak growled.
"Y-yes, sir," the frightened gas scout nodded, glancing at the pair of vornskrs as if seeing them for the first time. "M-my name is Streen."
Streen.
***
The Emperor's Will had been on the borders of the Ruul system for quite a long time.
Although the planet is located on the busy Hydian Way in the Core Worlds, it would take considerable time to determine the ship's location. And good equipment with a large sensor range.
Such was available on Ruul — in the computer complex.
And there were also silent fighters, previously wearing stormtrooper armor, now dressed in simple mercenary suits.
For conspiracy, of course.
Although Iceheart controlled the local government for many years, she did not intend to reveal her presence.
Never.
For this reason, the militants guarding the complex, like the operators of her intelligence, were considered local residents of another gang that was better not to mess with.
Madam Director sat in a spacious office in front of a massive array of monitors displaying information about the processes in the galaxy that interested her.
A standard office that was set up for her wherever she wished.
Her eyes sparkled with greedy lights as she read the lines of negotiations between the Republican commander and Rendili, reporting to Coruscant about the loss of the Lusankya.
About the successful escape of the pilots, for some reason abandoned by Wessiri.
About the death of the freighter-rammer, which ended without result.
But most of all, she was concerned that the colonel had not bothered to report to her about the successes of his mission. There was an assumption that the communication systems on the Lusankya were damaged, so she could not contact her flagship.
Perhaps for the same reason, Wessiri could not recall the pilots, rightly deciding that it was better to take the ship away, sacrificing two dozen machines and subordinates.
Pilots can be recruited new, as well as build other fighters.
But the failure of the operation to capture the Lusankya — no.
Such is not forgiven.
She would not forgive.
And she would not be forgiven.
Lusankya…
After years, Ysanne Isard, after so many thoughts about mistakes made in the past, understood how exhausted and broken she was, fleeing from the Center of the Empire on her ship.
The cold of analytical mind melted, and from the storm of the Empire, she turned into an ordinary woman. Arrogant, vengeful, illogical.
Her actions could not lead to victory. And if she were not broken by the shameful flight, she would not have made the blunders she could have avoided.
Thrawn's campaign, his victories growing like a snowball, helped her gather her thoughts and reason soundly.
But most of all, she was sobered by the return of Palpatine.
And the chance given to her for redemption.
She regained control over part of the agent network, avoiding contact with those whom Blackhole involved in preparing the offensive.
Iceheart intended to fulfill the condition set before her — to return the gift to Palpatine. Only then could she again earn his approval and become part of that grandiose return that would make the entire galaxy tremble before the wrath of the Emperor betrayed by his Executor.
Isard intended to resume her march to the heights of power.
And for that, she desperately needed the Lusankya.
The New Republic took the ship into its hands in the feverish delirium of its virtuoso victory. And hid it so successfully that Ysanne could even admire their conspiracy.
Fortunately, her "adjustments" that she made in the confrontation between the Grand Admiral and the New Republic forced the latter to pull the ship out of the bins of the homeland of democracy.
And now Iceheart takes her own.
From the bridge of the Lusankya, she will command the destruction of the presumptuous warlords. Isard will be able to deal with them quickly, without the slightest problems, if they do not agree to cooperation.
No matter how useful Thrawn is in eliminating rebellious warlords, he only melted the farthest part of the comet.
Unlike the Emperor's dignitaries, Isard knew perfectly well what the loyalty of those warlords who joined him, responded to the call, was worth.
They are all thoroughly false and swore only out of fear.
Therefore, she will destroy them all, so that there are no slightest signs of disobedience.
A little time will pass, and Isard, having received support from Palpatine, will help him forge a new Empire.
Purified by the acrid smoke of the previous defeat.
What, if not the Lusankya, which went through something similar on Thyferra, will be such a symbolic and significant symbol of the revival of the Galactic Empire?
The New Republic, after so many years of secret struggle, five years after the Battle of Endor, believed in its invulnerability.
First Zsinj, and then Thrawn, showed them how wrong they were.
The Grand Admiral is literally mowing down the New Republic fleet, crushing the defense of key worlds.
Yes, the Republicans plug the gaps with rotation of their flotillas, but after Thrawn's raids, they have to send three in place of one destroyed formation.
Removing them from other fronts.
And thereby they are more and more exposed before the inevitable attack from the Core.
Retribution is near.
And Isard, as before, will be next to Palpatine, in his shadow, and watch as he burns the rebels.
Right on their planets.
And most likely — along with them.
Of course, if her information about the capacities of Byss is correct.
And she did not doubt that.
Isard leaned back in the high back of her chair, catching with her gaze the information that passed through the communication line of the Second Fleet of the New Republic.
Admiral Argentis Duplex left Brentall IV.
He took away the remaining starships, deciding not to mess with the armada of Commodore Shohashi.
What prudence.
It seems that the New Republic commanders are beginning to understand that now they can no longer win battles with simple majority or cunning.
Thrawn turns out to be more cunning.
Interesting… She still could not reach the agents who supply him with information about the location of enemy ships.
Iceheart assumed that the Grand Admiral could calculate the enemy's actions by studying thinking. Even through the prism of art.
But so accurately, so lethally accurately…
Isard did not believe in that.
Unlike most Imperial military personnel, she knew a little more about the Grand Admiral. As much as the data of battles, testimonies of those who found him, delivered to the Emperor, trained, served under his command could tell about him…
Most of them are dead or disappeared in the Unknown Regions, but their reports are still in her archives.
And the data from these archives are combined in her mind into a single picture.
Which partly does not match what Thrawn is doing now.
Unfortunately, she could not study his actions more subtly.
The Grand Admiral cleared her agent network operating on the ships of his fleet.
Sifts agents she tries to send to him under the guise of volunteers.
And now the Ubiqtorate is also destroyed.
Of course, not entirely — part of the agents continue to work. But only because she long ago removed them from the general base and thereby hid them from any oversight.
Officially — they all died.
Unofficially — they have long been placed in the hierarchy of power of the New Republic and many key planets of the galaxy, supplying her with exclusive information.
A light of an incoming call flashed on the panel.
Unfastening the comlink from her belt, she inserted it into a special socket in the tabletop, encrypting the transmission so that even if tracked, it would not point to her location.
"Report," she ordered.
"Excuse me, Madam Director, this is the commander of the Emperor's Will, Captain…"
"Report," Isard repeated, indicating that she did not have much patience.
"Ma'am, we have engaged in battle!" the officer almost shouted.
Iceheart tensed, instantly switching the nearest screen to the system map.
Thanks to spy satellites, she alone knew what and where was moving in this point of space.
And she did not like at all what she saw on the borders of the system.
An Imperial-class Star Destroyer supported by an Immobilizer 418 cruiser.
Which blocked the Emperor's Will from escaping into hyperspace, and now literally besieged her destroyer with fire from all guns.
Ysanne pressed a few keys and felt dryness in her mouth.
The Dominion identification data she did not like very much.
"Break through," she ordered. "Leave the system to point…"
Suddenly she heard only the crackle of interference from the comlink.
At the same time, all monitors in front of her went out, and red emergency light lit up overhead.
Whatever communication channel she used, it remained the same — only interference.
The base's repeaters were disabled or destroyed.
Frequencies are jammed.
A distant rumble of an explosion confirmed her assumption — they are being attacked.
Iceheart rose from her chair with a jerk, on the way pulling out a spare blaster from a secret drawer of the table and shooting at the server array where all the collected information was located.
The woman stopped only when only charred alloys of metal and plastic remained from the device.
The woman headed to the exit.
But she took only a couple of steps when she saw that the doorway was open, and inside stood a clearly female figure.
In a form-fitting combat jumpsuit.
The emergency lighting dispersed the darkness enough for her to make out red hair, a blaster pointed at her chest.
And the hilt of a lightsaber dangling from the belt.
"So that's how it is," Isard narrowed her eyes. "The Emperor's Hand. In person. After so many years of searching, you came to me yourself."
"Don't exaggerate your importance, Iceheart," Mara Jade snapped. "If it were up to me, your corpse would already be cooling."
"Oh," Isard smiled feignedly, continuing to aim her weapon at the opponent blocking the escape. "You're back in supporting roles. How sad."
"Who would say," the redhead smirked. "You, after all, remain Palpatine's bedding. Doesn't it bother you that he informed you of his return one of the last?"
"But he did inform," Isard noted. "But you were clearly enlightened by someone else. Important news is not reported to couriers… Judging by everything happening, you now work for Thrawn."
Not a question — a statement.
Isard was familiar with the Emperor's Hand, but personally and in her style, she learned what kind of woman she was only some time after Endor.
Not listed in any databases, in any card index, the Emperor's personal agent was captured and delivered to Iceheart when she still pretended to strive to support Pestage.
In the process of torture and brainwashing (unsuccessful, unfortunately), Isard learned many secrets previously inaccessible to her.
And clearly understood how dangerous the Emperor's Hand is.
Ysanne could not touch the Force and did not attach much importance to it, so, as she learned later, she greatly underestimated Mara Jade's abilities.
The Emperor's Hand escaped from the Imperial Palace where she was imprisoned, led all the hunters sent on her trail around her finger, after which she dropped out of Iceheart's sight.
And now, after almost five years, they are again together in one room.
"The Grand Admiral will have to find a more efficient executor," Isard nodded towards the melted data carrier. "My secrets are only mine."
"Two-eyes, if we needed your secrets, I would have climbed in here in those two hours while you sleep in the room opposite this one," the redhead smiled and theatrically rounded her eyes. "Oops! What a coincidence — I did just that. I hope you're not offended?"
"No, of course not," Ysanne said indifferently.
She knew how to accept defeats stoically.
After Thyferra — especially.
"You understand that the Emperor will skin you and Thrawn alive when he learns what you did?" she inquired. "I act on his order and…"
"You see, two-eyes, the thing is that you yourself took care of the confidentiality of your location," Jade informed. "You are no more than a gang that everyone around fears. And in orbit — a New Republic star cruiser. This communication center is being attacked by Wookiee commandos. And the Emperor's Will, thanks to your own requirements, is beyond the range of scanners. No one will even know where the ship went after the stormtroopers from the Dressed in Amber deal with your amusing soldiers loyal to the New Order. It so happened that the traces lead not to the Dominion at all…"
"No one will believe this tale," Isard said, twisting her soul. "Palpatine knows I'm here."
"Don't try to inflate your price, Ice Queen," Jade smiled. "Your Palpatine knows nothing. There are so many sycophants and hangers-on around him ready to risk their lives to finish you off. So you would never report your true location. In this galaxy, there is only one person you trust. And even then not completely. That's you yourself."
Iceheart wanted to say something in response, object, coolly play a substitution of facts, her favorite manipulations…
But she realized that it was all useless.
Isard looked at the emergency light lamp above Jade's head.
"A shot at it could temporarily disable the Emperor's Hand…"
"Don't even think, two-eyes," in an instant, the blaster flew through the air into the left hand, and a purple lightsaber blade ignited in the right. "These tricks won't work with me. You'll come with me."
"Really? And not the slightest desire to avenge me for everything I did to you?" Isard arched an eyebrow. "What about repaying me for what I did all that time? When I served the Empire…"
"I frankly don't care about your affairs in the galaxy. I myself am not without a past that might interest any investigative commission of the New Republic. But, I think, it will be ""pleasant"" for you to the gnashing of teeth to learn that I will come to your funeral in the most beautiful dress I can find," the red-haired girl suddenly smiled. "And I will drink the brightest cocktail that the nearest bartender can come up with. And I will invite the Biths from one cantina on Tatooine with their indescribable dance music. But I have an order to take you alive. And, you know, I will fulfill it. Just to watch you rotting in a cell and feverishly pondering how you were led around the finger. On all fronts. Watching how Iceheart herself racks her brains trying to find the reasons that led to the collapse of all her plans — priceless."
"If you think I'll be confused by your words, you're mistaken," Ysanne smiled. "My clone led you here. But one thing you didn't consider…"
"You mean Colonel Wessiri and his pathetic attempt to capture the Lusankya?" Jade inquired, mockingly watching as Iceheart's face becomes deathly pale. "Or that you did everything for Imperial Space to bite on this bait too? Or about the remnants of the Ubiqtorate that you control? About what specifically?"
"The Lusankya will be here soon," Isard said firmly. "That you learned about the plan a couple of days ago does not guarantee victory."
"I'm afraid you're mistaken," Jade sighed wearily. "Thrawn calculated you long ago. Your precious ship was captured by us, not by Colonel Wessiri. It has already met with the Dominion support starships and now with the necessary crew and escorted is heading where it will be best. And the Orinda fleet — those ""traitors"" whom Sarcev Quest sent on the mission — was not destroyed either. More precisely — not all. And the Ubiqtorate… You remember that I rummaged in your server? We will find and destroy each one."
Ice shivers ran down Isard's spine.
She.
Was outplayed.
"I see my clone is alive," she found the reason for such a simple failure.
"Clone?" Jade raised an eyebrow.
Isard smiled victoriously.
"Oh, the little red courier doesn't know that my clone served Prince-Admiral Krennel, and now, surely — Thrawn?"
The smile on Jade's face faded.
"Oops," Iceheart spread in a victorious smile. "It seems your authoritative blue friend didn't tell you the reason for his ""enlightenment."" You see, whichever side you take, you're just used to achieve their own goals."
"Clone, then," the former Emperor's Hand said slowly. "How interesting it sounds…"
"You see, whatever you imagine there, you're just an executor," Iceheart made a sympathetic face. "But you can join me. I'll put in a word for you before the Emperor," the look with which the servant rewarded her could burn a couple of holes in the Director's body not provided by human biology. "Or, if you want, we'll part. And each will live her own life. At our next meeting, I'll pass by as if I never knew you."
"There won't be a next time," Thrawn's Hand reacted harshly. "You'll come with me."
"Really?" Isard smiled condescendingly. "And what will you do with me? For any of those who serve Thrawn, I have or will have compromising material. I can intimidate or bribe anyone. And even better — through my people, I'll report to Coruscant that I'm alive. And ready to tell a lot about the affairs of those people and non-people who are in the Republic's government. Or directly deliver a message about myself to Palpatine. And your hasty Dominion will burst under blows from two sides."
"You're mistaken," Jade declared. "Only punishment awaits you."
Iceheart's smile widened.
"Don't be so stupid," she advised. "Even Thrawn won't touch me if he doesn't want me to tell his own secrets. No, you'll bring me to him, I'll get back my clone, the Lusankya, and calmly go to the Emperor. On the way, entertaining myself by finally shooting my copy that caused me a lot of inconvenience. Or, if you want, I'll give it to you. For ""justice."""
What Isard expected least happened.
Mara Jade smiled widely.
And in the red light of the emergency lamps, it looked like a grin.
"And I'm sure that Thrawn clearly calculated this conversation," she said, not hiding her gloating. "And I don't think that after everything, he would entrust me with a mission where my disgust for you would cause a violation of the plan. I've tested the Grand Admiral's patience more than once, and I can say one thing: if he really captured your clone, then she is either not such scum as you, or the Grand Admiral in his favorite manner uses fantasy. Hunting evil with evil — why not? In any case, I'm more than sure — whatever fate Thrawn has prepared for you, you clearly won't be able to sneeze for the rest of your life without him knowing about it. Surely a cell on some asteroid in the depths of space awaits you, where the staff will be only battle droids, and you can only dream of communication systems. No one and nothing will know that you lived a little longer than most of the galaxy thinks. But something tells me that you'll simply be handed over to Erik Shohashi. I heard you were involved in the murder of Iran Ryad… Surely the ""Butcher of Atoan"" has been pondering for quite some time whether it would be too humane to tie you to four TIE Defenders and tear you to pieces with instant afterburner."
The prospect stunned and did not please at all.
Iceheart's gaze now could freeze Mustafar.
Shohashi…
This one won't back down from his.
It is quite likely that he joined Thrawn precisely for this.
Perhaps the Grand Admiral suspected from the beginning about Isard's survival on Thyferra. And the clone only indirectly confirmed this fact…
Dealing with the "Butcher of Atoan" is the worst she could imagine.
Even Palpatine's wrath is not so dangerous — because not so close, compared to meeting the commodore.
The picture finally gained color.
Thrawn sent Jade here because he is confident in her execution of the order — to deliver her alive.
Then Thrawn will squeeze out everything she knows and easily hand her over to Erik Shohashi.
And he is quite inventive…
Isard thought it all over and made a decision.
The index finger smoothly squeezed the free travel of the trigger, and the blaster spat a red clot of plasma.
The purple blade easily stood in its way, ricocheting the deadly charge into the ceiling.
The second shot burned a small soot on the floor.
The third did not happen — Iceheart felt her feet lift off the floor, and her neck as if clamped by invisible vise.
The wrist cracked broken, and the blaster flew aside.
"I said — this number won't pass with me," Mara Jade said, approaching Iceheart, holding her left hand clenched into a fist in front of her.
With the right, still gripping the lightsaber, she easily cut the holster attachment where Iceheart's main blaster was.
Iceheart had seen this trick more than once performed by Darth Vader.
Therefore, as soon as the redhead approached a sufficient distance, she kicked her in the temple.
Mara Jade dodged, and the boot only left a small abrasion on her face.
And then Ysanne felt herself thrown back; from the blow of her back and head against the bulkhead, sparks flew from her eyes, and pain rolled from the spine to the legs.
Collapsing like a sack onto the deck flooring, Iceheart realized she couldn't move.
She felt her limbs, but couldn't do anything with them.
Inside, it was as if fire was pulsing, every breath was difficult.
She didn't hear the crack of bones, but understood that all internal organs were beaten off.
The woman tried to take a breath, but couldn't.
The firm gaze that broke Imperial courtiers and instilled terror in subordinates blurred.
A strong slap, from which lips burst and the nose twisted sideways, brought her to her senses.
Opposite her sat Thrawn's Hand and smiled feignedly, holding her clenched fingers of the right hand in front of her.
"It's too early for you to die," Mara Jade said with a Barabel hiss. "First, it would be good to meet the Grand Admiral. But conscious, you cause too many problems."
After the redhead unclenched her fingers, Ysanne was able to convulsively inhale and move her arms.
And then, before Iceheart found a way to harm her opponent, Mara Jade passed an open palm in front of her face, and the world before her eyes darkened.
***
"Are you sure, Guard Obscuro?" I asked, looking at the hologram of the former inquisitor.
"Absolutely, sir," Reynar replied. "These two are not Sedriss and not Kam Solusar. I recognize Baddon Fass, but not these two."
Unpleasant news.
"Good," I said, carefully choosing the tone so as not to show my annoyance. "Is your recovery complete?"
"Yes, sir," he replied, straightening up. "I am ready to continue the hunt for the Dark Side Elite."
"Your assignment will be different," I declared, looking at the computer. The screen showed confirmation of file sending. "Have the data arrived?"
"Yes, Grand Admiral," the Shadow Guard said, dulling. "Bilbringi?"
"That's right," I confirmed. "You and your partner are going to Bilbringi. Your goal is to disable the crystal gravfield trap. Naturally — remaining undisclosed. Imitate your work as the activity of Republican saboteurs. That your goal is the CGT — should not be clearly understood."
Obscuro's hologram nodded in sign of understanding the order.
"It will be done, sir," he said.
"That's all," I said, turning off the holotransmitter.
Left alone with my thoughts in the semi-darkness of personal quarters, I closed my eyes, immersing in reflection.
Fix the thought.
Given.
Dark Side Elite.
Servants of the mad clone of Palpatine, numbering seven people. Trained fighters capable of channeling the Force. Provide preparation for Palpatine's operations in the galaxy. Based in Bast Castle on Vjun.
Find.
Exterminate them without any traces, to weaken Palpatine before the invasion and in part of having dark Jedi.
Solution.
Use data from buzz-droids of Project Swarm to determine the location of each member of the Dark Side Elite. The general rule: "Leave buzz-droids in every system you've been to" worked this time too.
The Chimaera delivered these "bad guys" to the orbit of Vjun back during the rescue of Mara Jade and recruitment of Obscuro.
True, the trap was set in case of appearance of those interested in Darth Vader's personal fortress. Kyle Katarn, for example.
"I remember he visited this place. Under different circumstances, of course, but the known chronology of events has long been violated, and I am breaking its remnants at the present moment."
Thanks to these droids, it was possible to find out the movement of Dark Side Elite members and direct Obscuro and Maul after them.
At the current moment, already destroyed: Vill Goir, Kvag Gthull, Zasm Katth, Krdis Mordi. Today Darth Maul pleased me with the news that he added three more to their number.
It was assumed that these would be the last of the seven — Executor Sedriss, Kam Solusar and Baddon Fass.
But something clearly went wrong.
The only one who saw them in person — Reynar Obscuro — indicated that two of the three are unknown to him.
That is, by my order, five known and two completely new "elites" were destroyed.
Which means that Sedriss and Solusar are alive.
And this in turn cannot but alert.
It is unlikely that Palpatine will appoint as Executor a person who significantly inferior to Vader in strength and Force. Based on this logic, that's why I didn't hurry to destroy Sedriss.
As a confidant in Palpatine's campaign, he should know a lot and I would like to get him for interrogation.
Kam Solusar…
"If I remember the plot of the book "I, Jedi" correctly, then Luke Skywalker in the events known to me somehow managed to lure Solusar to the Light Side of the Force. And further, he showed himself as a Jedi of considerable strength, more than once proving useful in galactic crises."
Therefore, I would like to capture him too.
"Perhaps they will change sides."
"Perhaps they will still have to be disposed of."
"But, one way or another, my calculations did not assume Palpatine recruiting two more "elites." And where there are two, there may be more."
The question is only where he gets them from.
Darth Maul said that the "newbies" were worse trained than those Reynar Obscuro knew about.
"Does this mean that the Zabrak himself is good, or that Palpatine does not have time to find and train replenishment in the ranks of the Dark Side Elite."
One way or another, I need more information about what is happening on Byss.
Much more.
I opened my eyes and looked at the ship's chronometer.
A few days remain until the fleet arrives in the Dominion metropolis.
And during the repair of the ships, so much needs to be done…
***
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