Grand Admiral

For someone to whom the Emperor himself had once entrusted a secret code that allowed access to the central computers of Imperial fleet ships, it was now extremely ambiguous in terms of personal ambition to be crawling through a ventilation shaft into a port's data information room. One might even say – humiliating. Especially considering the fact that the local administrator of this level was obviously neglecting his duties to keep the premises under his care clean. Because in that layer of dust that Mara was forced to collect on her suit, one could clearly hide a couple of pressure-activated antipersonnel mines. And if it weren't for the portable scanner that detected any electronics, she would never have been able to move so quickly. And now, all she has is her hair full of dust, her whole suit is dirty, her face is covered in cobwebs and a lot of debris that she needs to overcome in the future.

Wonderful. Just a dream job. No doubt people will fight to the death for it and stand in queues with huge competition for the position.

However, that's what she was counting on – to use a path that no one would ever use. Well, except for service droids, of course. It's just that the local manager didn't care about the cleanliness of the ventilation, the droids didn't either, and Mara certainly shouldn't care less.

But how badly she wants to sneeze! Oh, Emperor's black bones, how much dirt is here! Even the respirator can't cope with cleaning the air!

Mara caught herself thinking that she had just used a swear word that was used throughout the galaxy, except in the Imperial space. And yet before, she could not even think of mentioning Palpatine in a derogatory context like that... Even after death.

Time flows, the galaxy changes. Now she is free from Palpatine's mental command, and life is left to itself. However, we must not forget that she is working for a Grand Admiral. Not just serving him as a mindless doll or a messenger, but as a full participant in the campaign. And this openness, of course, is tempting...

But it's important not to forget that the Supreme Commander never reveals his hand. At least, not fully. And he only did it when it suited his plans. Thrawn's curious feature was always that he never lied directly. He didn't finish speaking, he omitted a number of points, but he didn't lie to his face. At least when he knew the truth.

In general, Mara had no doubt about Thrawn's logic – Palpatine continues to use them to achieve his goals after his death. It is just in his spirit to manipulate sentients from the shadows.

Well, in that case, you'll have to sweat a lot to help the Grand Admiral achieve his goals. Because Palpatine, after his return, will definitely not calm down in the matter of retribution for those who did not fulfill his will or were not loyal to the Empire. And she really doesn't want to be in his dungeons...

Therefore, it's time to stop reflecting and continue crawling through this garbage. Slowly, without making noise in the ventilation, to reach...

Oh, there you are, hatch. Right in front of her. Just like the mountain of dust that had accumulated during the journey.

Checking with the scanner, which stubbornly insisted that she was close to the target, the girl quickly and silently cleared the dust and debris to clear her way to the rectangular ventilation panel. Ugh... She'll have to mask her hair so it's not too obvious that she's been traveling through a dusty space.

Listening to the Force, which she was just barely beginning to control again, recalling the lessons she had been taught in the past, the girl directed the intangible energy into the room in front of her. As she expected, there was one guard on duty. Bored, almost falling asleep. However, what else to expect from a sentient whose duty is to service the servers of shipyards that are under the most powerful protection?

Mara crawled closer to the ventilation grille. She pulled out a monitor with an optical probe from a pocket on her belt. She pushed the long end, ending in a miniature holocamera, between the decorative bars of the grille. The image on the camera showed a typical picture for a system administrator's office – a desk littered with computer internals and food scraps, topped with several all-in-one terminals that displayed data from hundreds of sensors and computers throughout the Yaga Minor cargo terminal complex. And a huge number of powerful servers, arranged like cabinets, blinking with dozens of lights, around the perimeter of the entire room. Which, for a moment, was no less than a hundred square meters in area.

That's what she needs – direct access to service information. And as far as Mara knew from her past, every server stores a lot of information. However, these are just details. The main thing is that if the Imperials continue to follow the information security protocols created in the early years of the Galactic Empire, there is a good chance not only to dig into the shipyard data, but also more. Much more.

The main principle of Imperial Intelligence – information is sent through several communication channels simultaneously. This is a precaution to ensure that a message sent by an operative to his coordinator is not intercepted and altered for the purpose of disinformation. To prevent this, the same message is sent through multiple communication channels, which guarantees in one case or another the delivery of the original message to the addressee. However, it adds work for Imperial Intelligence analysts in order to establish the veracity of the message – when you have, say, five or six versions of the same message, you need to determine which one is true. It seems that it causes a lot of work for analysts, but in fact everything is much simpler.

Each agent of Imperial Intelligence has their own "handwriting" of drafting documents. A special construction of phrases, a way of multiple encoding of information, deliberate mistakes that are easy to attribute to general illiteracy, but in fact are only "deliberate" signs of information identification. There are many such ways – thousands, if not millions. Of course, many of them are known to Imperial Intelligence analysts. But some are still not compromised by New Republic intelligence. And therefore... with the right approach, she will get much more than simple data about cargo manifests. But only if the Imperials continue to connect data banks to secret communication channels that should not be connected to them – officially. But Imperial Intelligence, and in particular Ubiqtorate, like to stick their paws where they don't belong.

After watching the system administrator for a few minutes, the girl put the observation device back in place, and then took out a special tool. A small tube containing a cylinder of compressed air. Under very high pressure. And all this to shoot needle-like projectiles with the contents of the most diverse content. With the exception that the reaction time of the chemical content in the needle darts is one – instantaneous. Well, or almost. Depends on the individual characteristics of the organism. However, this guy is thin enough for the sleeping pill to work instantly. Of course, one could also use a nerve agent, but what's the point? This guy is not an enemy. Not a Republican, not a traitor... he's an Imperial, an ordinary worker who gets ten credits an hour for his work. However, it's not very dusty.

And the fact that there is not a single surveillance camera in the room only confirmed the fact that the local administration does not really believe in a security breach of this room. And therefore, the "worker" behaves so... carelessly.

The girl, aiming the dart launcher at her victim, waited for the system administrator to start yawning and stretching, and then fired a shot. The thin needle passed through his greasy shirt and pierced the man's armpit.

— Oh, you rascal, — was all the system administrator managed to say, thinking that he had been bitten by some kind of crawling, flying, biting creature from the mosquito family. But the guy didn't have time to figure out what was going on – his eyelids and body relaxed. The guy fell asleep. And will sleep for an hour and a half. But he will wake up fresh and rested. Many would like to do that. But it is unlikely to work.

The girl, listening to the young man's snoring, pried the decorative plate, carefully placed it on another part of the ventilation shaft. After that, grabbing the edges of the rectangular opening with her fingers, she pushed her body out, quietly swearing at the fact that a cloud of dust and dirt still flew out after her. Which crashed onto the table, mixing with computer "goods" and "scraps".

Just brilliant.

Mara, shaking her head, walked to the entrance door. She carefully examined the decorative overlay of the control panel, and then carefully opened it without damage. Looking at the mechanism, the girl took out a thin needle from the stiff cuff of her suit sleeve, and then stuck it into the tangle of wires, causing a short circuit in the door locking system. Well, now this panel cannot be opened without hacking. And it is clearly made of armored material. She will have to try – because there is no other entrance here. Including emergency exit.

However, the fire safety violations on the part of the terminal management did not interest her.

The girl approached the main monoblock. She disgustedly removed pieces of food from the keyboard. N-yes, what a slob.

A clump of dust fell from the girl's head, straight into a mug of long-cooled caf. Following its flight, Mara chuckled, looking at the system administrator. Well, yeah, who would criticize.

However, she already doesn't have much time. The moment of meeting with Mr. Zion is approaching, and inexorably so. She should hurry.

It took the red-haired beast only a couple of glances at the computer system to realize that the operating system and the programs used in the cargo terminal are standard. The Pentastar Alignment government hasn't come up with anything new. Lazy. It's so simple.

The girl used the system administrator's account to gain access to the entire terminal database. Many people think that a system administrator is a sentient who ensures the security of data on servers. But they forget that this same sentient is the key to direct access to data on servers. Because he himself takes care of this system, knows all its strengths and weaknesses. And he also creates the "crutches" on which the entire system security is based. And he, unlike ordinary employees and users of this system, has no secrecy restrictions – because he himself establishes this same security system and data fragmentation for users.

Therefore...

It took only a couple of seconds to find what she needed. So, a list of cargo ships arriving or departing to or from Yaga Minor. Let's see...

Hmm... and it's more serious than she expected. Karrde doesn't just do cargo transportation here. He is almost a permanent cargo carrier here.

Of course, Karrde changed the identification data of his ships after she left. He is a rather clever sentient. And he perfectly understands that if Mara was an agent of the Empire, then he needs to cover up the data about the ships that she managed to get acquainted with during her work for him.

The problem is that Karrde knows that Imperial scanners not only record the identification data of ships, but also record information about their engine trails. They are all accumulated in the database so that law enforcement can work with the information more easily. And despite all his desire, Karrde cannot change or forge such data. Not because he can't – of course he can. It's just that he doesn't have enough funds to change the engine signatures by completely replacing them on his fleet. But he is already partially doing this – Mara identified ships with partial signature matches. This means that Karrde is trying to hide his work. Logical. She was just lucky to get to the data before he finished re-equipping his ships.

So, the "Claw" ships arrive on Yaga Minor once a week. At the same time, places are always reserved for them – and this is an extremely expensive service. However, the shipyard management, under orders from above, can solve this problem.

And now let's take a look at the bills of lading.

Food cargo, equipment cargo, communication systems, computer equipment... Seems like nothing criminal, but Mara knew for sure that the cargo manifests were fake. They are only needed for customs officers, who... yes, that's right – the ships are exempt from customs inspection. They arrive directly for unloading. Which is carried out... m-m-m... in the military part of the shipyards. This means that the cargo is military. Whatever Karrde brings here, it is clearly necessary for militarization. Considering the fact that the basis of his fleet are Action-class transport starships of various models, the volume of transported cargo is significant.

What can be concluded from this? Karrde has good connections, at least with the shipyard management. But this is easy to check – you need to clarify who gives him permission to park... M-m-m... It's not the shipyard management – it's the military command. Therefore, these are not smuggled supplies – direct military transport, disguised as civilian goods. It's simple.

The cargo flow of Karrde's ships never stops, which means that deliveries have been going on for a long time. Most likely, this is part of a logistics network that functions either under Karrde's former boss, the semi-mythical Jorj Car'das, or Karrde organized it himself. How to check this?

It's very simple.

The girl moved to the study of server data. Found the one that is least loaded with information. What is stored here? So, ordinary work information. Nothing important. Copy data about the transportation of selected ships here. Yes, this may be a mistake if other starships were used in the past, especially under K'ardas. But there is a logical grain here – if Karrde's former boss was doing this in the past, then what claims can be made against the latter for what happened before he raised the flag of the organization? Correct – none. Then he was subordinate and carried out orders. And now he gives them himself, the initiative is his. Consequently, the consequences are on him.

It took Mara a few minutes to copy the cargo data. After that, she transferred the engine signature data to the server – this will facilitate the hunt for Karrde's subordinates and allow them to establish the planets where they are.

Well, the girl has got what she came here for. There is still plenty of time before the meeting. It would be possible to start hacking the archives of Imperial Intelligence, but she certainly will not have enough time to steal data from them. At least, a full archive. And what is the point of a part? Right, none. But she was not going to steal data from the archive.

It will be enough to do something else.

The girl, without much trouble, using her skills and secrets of the Imperial computer system, managed to discover one of the channels for transmitting information to Ubiqtorate. Curious. The identification address of the device that receives data from Yaga Minor is unchanged. That is, it is always the same equipment. However, the data transmission time is always different. What does this mean? First of all, it means that different volumes of information are being moved. It is logical. But that's not the point. The speed of information transmission through Imperial Intelligence channels is always high. And here it takes much more time. And even despite the fact that the volumes of data transmitted to intelligence do not differ critically, time, time always differs. Sometimes the largest volumes are transmitted faster, and a smaller amount of information takes longer.

Why?

It's simple. They are received by a ship. Which approaches the "HoloNet" repeaters in accordance with its course, connects to the network and pulls information to its servers. The more repeaters a data array needs to pass, the longer the transmission time. Cleverly done. There was nothing like this in the past.

So, Ubiqtorate can surprise.

Mara could have spent time trying to hack the security of Ubiqtorate's equipment to find out the name and course of the ship, but she had no doubt that the Imperial Intelligence command servers were protected from this in one way or another. The simplest way is to fragment data and lack direct communication between information storage servers and the central computer of the ship, where the data banks are located.

But this does not mean that the system cannot be calculated. It will be enough to compare the data transfer time with the bandwidth of the communication channels, and then overlay the information received on the map of the location of the repeaters and find out the dates, time and location of the Ubiqtorate ship. After that, create an algorithm for his visits to certain repeaters, establish a pattern and organize an ambush. It's easier than taking a pacifier from a baby.

At least it seems so. In practice, it will certainly be more difficult. And one cannot rule out the fact that the computer security on this ship was still able to track her intrusion. Although she disguised her action as a typical data exchange, the chance of failure cannot be ruled out. Fools were usually not kept in Ubiqtorate and Imperial Intelligence. It is also unlikely now that they have taken such a step in favor of increasing their numbers and weakening their own security. It's too stupid.

Mara spent another ten minutes infiltrating various systems and databases, gathering information about the defense system of Yaga, its repair and production capabilities. It was more difficult here, but in her time she had a good relationship with Karrde's computer specialist, Gent, who was just a jack of all trades and...

And he's also an extremely interesting person. In fact, he's a big kid. And quite brilliant. If Karrde's organization is to be destroyed, this boy needs to be recruited. He will definitely be able to find an approach to the archives of Imperial Intelligence, find the ship and bring it to Thrawn.

Is it dangerous to contact Ubiqtorate and, moreover, to lay hands on their holy of holies – information? No doubt dangerous. But the game is worth the candle, since Ubiqtorate holds many secrets. Each of which the Supreme Commander can use for his own purposes.

The girl spent another ten minutes sweeping up her tracks, copying the necessary information to the selected server. She found its location in the array of hard drives, extracted it, and then, removing traces of dust and debris from the table, removed the dart with sleeping pills from the system administrator's body. At the same time, she treated the wound with bacta aerosol. The puncture on the skin and a slight bruise will disappear in a few minutes – the concentrated medicinal substance will work as it should. This has been tested more than once or twice.

The girl checked the room again for any traces. No fingerprints, no hair. Order. After that, she easily climbed back into the ventilation, put the decorative panel back in place and continued her way through the narrow metal shaft. Why are they built so that even a fragile woman can barely squeeze through?

***

Six defense stations.

And four squadrons of ground-based fighters.

That's how the defense of the planet Kai Fel intends to meet me.

And everything seems quite unremarkable – you'll have to work hard to break through such a defense system. Which is a clear calculation, and there can be no other way. The stations are too far apart to organize any powerful barrier to the invading forces.

Simply put, a couple of Golan platforms are located above the poles of the planet, and Firestar platforms are in orbit along the equator. Ideally, this should cause a protracted battle, since such a defensive tactic assumes that the stations will be able to take any attacking enemy under crossfire.

But the catch is that it "assumes". Firestar-type defense stations, though still quite lively, are morally obsolete structures. Strangely enough, their numerous laser weapons are simply not able to shoot as far as Golan-type stations.

Yes, I myself was a little surprised that the weapons – laser and turbolaser – in this universe have such a concept as "range". Considering that the design of turbolasers has been known for more than a thousand years and there has been very little fundamentally new invention in them, the fact remains.

The firing range of turbolasers is determined in so-called "units" of measurement. And unfortunately, I do not have the opportunity to translate the local range system into the usual kilometers or meters. For one simple reason – such information is not available in the data with which I am currently working. But I assume that a "unit" is clearly not equal to one standard kilometer, and even less than a light second. Perhaps the decoding of this term is somewhere in the educational material of the Imperial fleet, but unfortunately I am simply not in time to find and understand this term.

Orbital defense station "Firestar".

However, this setback is quite easily solved by changing the numbering systems on the computer on which I am calculating the plan for the upcoming attack.

So, creating a "umbrella" from six stations covering each other with crossfire is not possible with full coverage of the orbit in the realities of the planet Kai Fel. The difference, first of all, in the distances between the stations leads to the fact that there are "blind spots" between the Golan and Firestar platforms. Not the largest, but this is only by the standards of space. In reality, these are very large spaces. And this is the first part of the plan.

While the ships, having emerged from hyperspace, are rearranging into combat mode, they are conducting final checks and preparations. In a few hours, I must confirm the attack plan.

And it is very... curious.

The first, and main, thing. What is taught in space battle tactics courses at the Imperial Academy – any ship coming out of hyperspace turns into a target for several tens of seconds – or minutes. Depending on the class of the hyperdrive – what is the logical relationship, is still a mystery to me. But it seems that the class of the hyperdrive somehow affects the amount of residual radiation that accumulates on the hulls of ships during the flight.

The "blinding" is dictated by the fact that ships completing a hyperspace jump emerge into real space without data from sensors and with deactivated shields – these are the features of traveling faster than the speed of light in this universe. How to get around this fact so that ships do not feel blind and defenseless before exiting hyperspace, the military genius of the Far, Far Galaxy has not yet come up with. Well, except that for this reason, bridges on ships are open spaces in superstructures. And through the transparisteel of the portholes, the crews can immediately assess the situation and start responding to it immediately.

I have already used this feature during the Ambush at Rugosa, when I pre-targeted the weapons at the exit point of enemy ships from hyperspace and opened fire from everything I had. Thus, defenseless enemy ships were under a hurricane of fire and immediately began to receive damage.

But the problem of the current situation is that last time I used the services of the mad magister C'baoth. He is not with me now. And until Imperial Intelligence implements a disinformation program, this will continue.

So, returning to the issues of tactics. The Imperial military doctrine states that in the event of an assault on the enemy's defenses or an attack on the enemy fleet, starships must emerge from hyperspace either outside the range of its weapons, or in a zone of minimal fire, in order to reduce the amount of damage when appearing in real space.

To implement the first point, it is necessary to know and understand – where is your enemy. Now the scouts have again gone to Kai Fel in order to find additional information – who knows what happened in the past day and a half. It is also necessary to assess the situation in the context of possible reinforcement to the enemy, lurking in nearby star systems. I don't want to get a couple of enemy ships on my head, and I really don't want that.

There are several key points in the attack.

First – capturing stations and appropriating them, transferring them to another place – is impossible. At least for the reason that there are millions of sentients and surveillance systems on the planet. Someone will record the fact of the abduction of stations – I am definitely not going to arrange a total extermination of the planet that produces hyperdrives. Especially considering the fact that the armed forces of Kai Fel on the surface consist of only a couple of police battalions. Stormtroopers will easily cope with them. But only after the orbital defense has been pushed through.

So. The hyperspace jump must begin and end at strictly calculated coordinates. This is a standard way of moving. The exceptions are those cases in which an object of large mass appears at the intersection of the course, which threatens the integrity of the starship. Then the automatic system of the hyperdrive is activated and the ship is thrown into real space.

This is how interdictor cruisers and trawler cruisers work – they create an artificial area of gravity in the path of ships flying in hyperspace. Science, no magic.

Two elements intertwine into one.

The enemy's defensive oversights and the presence of three starships equipped with gravity shadow generators. With seven Imperial, one Victory and one Acclamator star destroyers. Not to mention the escort corvettes and frigates.

A very interesting "picture" emerges. I would even say – very interesting.

The question remains of countering the enemy's small flying vehicles.

Each station is capable of deploying from two to six squadrons of fighters or bombers, depending on the internal modifications of the stations – there is not much information here, since intelligence still failed to find out how much the owners changed the hangars of their stations. Plus four from the surface. In total – a minimum of sixteen, a maximum of twenty-eight.

This is not the smallest number of fighters – from one hundred and ninety-two to four hundred and eighty enemy vehicles. We have overwhelming superiority both in aviation and in small ships capable of fighting them. It's just that there is a suspicion that we will be opposed by more protected vehicles than the TIE series that we use.

Well, people are dying. It's unpleasant, but there's no other way. But this only emphasizes once again the need to replace the aircraft wing machines. It is possible to overwhelm with mass, but the effect of this is minimal. Large losses both in people and equipment.

It is necessary to pay a visit to Lianna to Mrs. Santhe to negotiate the purchase of our own plant. Considering the large amount of equipment that the prince-admiral is currently supplying me with, and in return he takes out the useless prisoners who have already passed through the security service dungeons, Moff Ferrus has time to prepare new pilots. The ones that Baron D'Asta brought with him. Most likely, by the time of the attack on the Hast shipyards, I will have to carry out a rotation among the pilots of the air wing in order to make up for the losses in today's attack. During the time available before the attack, it will be possible to train new pilots through training exercises.

Unfortunately, this is not possible at the moment. The loss among pilots, especially TIE fighters, is high. Too high. But what else to expect from young pilots? I have specifically studied this issue – most of the pilots on the ships of my fleet are yesterday's youngsters. There are very, very few veterans. But their DNA and knowledge are already in the process of cloning, so by the time of the attack on Hast, I will already have a batch of experienced pilots to man all available ships with veterans. Who have not only survived all the previous battles, but have also undergone training, which will record their skills obtained during cloning under the "Spaarti" program.

However, this is all a matter not of today. And not tomorrow.

But for tomorrow, it is necessary to think through not only the space operation, but also the ground one.

And it's not all that smooth either, in fact.

Ground air defense forces have not been canceled. Not that it's strong or weak – it's normal. Capable of giving a thrashing to the invasion forces, especially landing shuttles and shuttles with equipment.

Therefore, ground air defense targets should be suppressed. But do it competently, minimizing the attacking forces.

So, what is the difference between air defense and anti-space defense forces? In firing range, oddly enough. The air defense forces are not able to fire at ships above a certain height in the atmosphere. But they cannot reach the orbit, and therefore, they cannot harm star destroyers. But they can be destroyed by orbital bombardment. Or by the bombing of high-altitude bombers, like our TIEs.

But the anti-space defense forces, on the contrary, were created as "ground-to-space" weapons and can give a good thrashing to large ships, but are extremely vulnerable to ground attacks and maneuvering targets.

So, the enemy has no last ones, but air defense – it is.

And they are favorably located around the production and storage complexes in order to cover the main value of this planet – the manufacture of hyperdrives.

Intelligence has identified a dozen potential targets – warehouses with finished products. We don't need unfinished hyperdrives.

There are landing sites necessary for the removal of mechanisms – we will need them for landing troops.

So, the operation, as always, is divided into several phases. One seamlessly flows into another. Considering the lack of a cloned Jedi coordinating our actions, we have to act in such a way that the decrease in the effectiveness of our subordinates is not a critical factor.

The commander of my unit in a past life called this a "discount on a fool" – taking into account human dawdling, lack of training, supplies and other military trifles when planning an operation.

So it is now. It is necessary to anticipate possible deviations from the plan in order to minimize the possibility of failure...

And you need to think a lot here.

At least about the fact that everything is too perfect... It's even refined somehow. Instead of quality orbital defense – one profanation with "blind spots". Instead of covering from the surface – only air defense. Although a couple of ion cannons, like the ones the rebels used on Hoth, could easily solve the problem of orbital threat and plug the holes in the defense in orbit. But for some reason this was not done. Why?

Because Kuat has no competent commanders? Too simple an explanation. I'm sorry, but I won't believe it.

Almost from its very foundation, the Kuat Drive Yards have had their own fleet. So numerous that during the Clone Wars, the Old Republic had to beg them for ships in times of need. And Kuat provided them – and not the worst ones. Many of them are still in service. For the preceding millennium of peace, when the Republic lost its position in militarism and the global martial art, only Kuat could afford to build huge ships – like the eight-kilometer-long Star Dreadnoughts of the Executor-class and keep them in considerable numbers. To protect their interests, of course. And it's naive to believe that their military leaders have not been practicing in tactical terms all this time. I just don't believe it.

Very, very strange. If this is a trap, then what is it designed for? After all, the air defense systems, scattered, as if deliberately, on the surface of the planet in the projection of "blind zones", can be suppressed in order to land troops... Or not? Most likely not, since the stations can probably change the inclination of their orbit and concentrate fire already on the landing force – especially the "Firestars" with their almost one hundred and fifty laser cannons. And this is not to mention the large number of proton torpedo launchers. However, unlike cannons that have a range of seventy-five units, the flight range of proton torpedoes is only seven units. That is, they are used as close-range weapons. Wait a minute. But after all, on the Crusader, a Victory-I class star destroyer, the firing range of proton torpedoes is much higher, sixty units. It turns out that there are obsolete launchers on the "Firestars"? Perfectly logical...

Stop. We have recorded the thought.

Outdated technology. And for what reason did they abandon the constant use of "Firestars" at all, because in their time they were at the peak of popularity, like the "Golans" now? But even so, what are these stations in combat terms, how strong are their shields, how dangerous are the weapons?

We urgently need to sift through the archives for the necessary information. There is a strong suspicion that the Imperials did not write off these stations just like that.

***

It must be admitted, the chief engineer of the Yaga Minor shipyards managed to equip his office in a very intriguing way, with a clear, non-blurred taste. Sometimes the environment at a sentient's workplace and home can tell you more than studying a psychological profile from the archives of Imperial Intelligence.

For example, this sentient clearly gravitates towards narrowly specialized ships – this is evident from the fact that he collects models of corvettes, frigates, and cruisers. The man clearly dislikes star destroyers and larger ships, which increasingly perform universal tasks – they participate in battles, deliver troops, search, patrol, and intercept... Of course, the question is rather controversial, but still.

— Lieutenant Jade, — the man, putting aside the datapad with Thrawn's request for work at the Yaga Minor shipyards, looked at her with his right eye. What's with these shipbuilders – always the left eye is either cybernetic or lost. Reyes has the same problem... — The order is undoubtedly interesting. But I want to know the details.

— Which ones exactly and for what purposes? — Mara inquired. Good thing she managed to quickly get to the Nemesis, leave the hard drive in the cabin and change her jumpsuit to a fleet uniform. She even took a shower and got rid of the smell of mustiness and dirt from her face, hair and body.

— Let's see, — the man smiled crookedly. — You are offering me to accept an order for some "work with asteroids of various sizes." No clarification. What am I and my people supposed to do with them?

— Is that important? — Mara tried to play the role of a fool who was made an adjutant only because of her weak mind and pretty appearance. It's easy – because that's exactly the approach men take to women in the Imperial fleet.

— Of course, — Ryan Zion chuckled. — There are restrictions on safety clearances, radiation, chemical or other contamination.

Shipbuilder Ryan Zion.

— And you can't handle something like that? — Mara batted her eyes.

— We? — there was irritation in Mr. Zion's voice. — No, we are able to build even a new Death Star – as long as the customer has the money.

"Tell me more," Mara mentally smirked. "Yaga Minor has never had such capabilities. And it doesn't have them now."

— Oh, we have the money, — she smiled.

— In that case, I need to know what technical specifications my workers are supposed to perform, — the chief shipbuilder said emphatically. — Asteroids are a very specific thing. Again, we don't know the composition they are made of. Can you provide us with such data?

— Well... yes, I guess, — Mara shyly looked away. Don't stare at me like that. I'm a fool, I'm a fool, I'm a fool... The main thing is not to believe in this yourself.

— And Grand Admiral Thrawn didn't think that to discuss such issues, it is necessary to first send the subordinate who has the information? — Zion remarked sarcastically. Contempt and moral superiority could be read in his eyes. Yes, he clearly fits his psychological profile. An unbearable type.

— But I am competent! — Mara feigned offense, puffed up her lips and began winding a strand of hair around her finger.

— Fine, — the Imperial's smile looked more like a snarl. — How many asteroids do we have to process for you?

— Ehm... and how many can you?

— Any amount. The question of money is only in money and time required to carry out the work...

— Well... a couple, I guess...

— What size are they? — the man's only eye twitched nervously.

— Well... a couple of dozen meters, I guess...

The shipbuilder fell silent. Oh, now he should definitely have fountains of terms exploding in his head, their inconsistency when used by Mara, and professional pride should flare up. He was very eloquent in his silence.

— Lieutenant, — he said with poorly concealed irritation. — Do you know exactly what kind of work we should do on these two asteroids?

— Well... build something there...

Oh, his eye is already bloodshot.

— What exactly?

— Something...

— And in what timeframe?

— In a short one...

— And more specifically?

— In a specifically short one...

The shipbuilder fell silent, closing his only eye. He is clearly trying to calm down.

— And how are we supposed to know what exactly we are supposed to build on these damned pieces of space stones and in what timeframe? — the man asked, barely restraining his rage. It was clear that he was in a concrete rage. In such that he was only just managing to hold back.

Actually, the tactic of luring this sentient is based on this – to make him angry so that he is rude to a potential client. The shipyard management hates losing orders – especially military ones. Judging by the information she managed to gather about this man during her flight to Yaga Minor, he is not very well liked here. Precisely because he is too picky in assessing the orders of potential clients. Moreover, this funny situation occurs both from the point of view of customers outside the Pentastar Alignment, and within it. Sometimes, public or corporate chats are a very valuable source of information, which is not that easily accessible, but... Seriously, is there an opinion that anything can stop a Hand of Thrawn who has gone out hunting?

However, the operation is extremely risky. If he really loses his job due to the disruption of orders, he may not appreciate the subsequent offer to work for Thrawn. He is a rather conceited man. Such sentients are easy to calculate – when there are only a few of them. Or there is enough time to assess their psychological profile and develop a suitable strategy. Unfortunately, she did not have time for such preparation. She had to work in an operational manner. And mistakes in such haste are always inevitable.

Frankly, she wouldn't have bet even a couple of credits on the fact that the operation to recruit this sentient in this way would succeed. But at least depriving the Pentastar Alignment of such a skilled shipbuilder was worthwhile. Not to mention attracting as much attention to the asteroids as possible.

Of course, she knew for what purpose the work on the asteroids would be carried out, and why they should be carried out at the shipyards, where Karrde has the opportunity to receive information. Or, at least – often is, in order to discover them, count them and draw conclusions. But she was not going to report this. At least not to Mr. Zion until he works for them. And if he refuses at all, then there is no need for him to know at all. In any case, the "Asteroid" project, which she must organize here, is nothing more than an extremely intricate trap.

— Well... — it's extremely difficult to try to portray the work of thought while leaving the expression of a sentient who has not been touched by individual development in everything that concerns logic. — Probably, when the asteroids are delivered to you. And the mechanisms that need to be mounted on them.

— Is that so? — irritation appeared in Zion's voice. — And now let me tell you what the problem is. First of all, I need to know the exact size of the asteroids in order to reserve the necessary amount of orbital space and workers. Timeframes need to be known for the same reason – to understand the cost of man-hours. Also, I must understand the degree of danger of the objects in order to know if there is a need for the work of my employees. The simplest example is that maybe you'll bring asteroids here with baradium inside them. And we'll detonate during the installation work. Which will entail not only the death of my workers, but also irreparable damage to the shipyards. And Yaga Minor, by the way, is one of the most important shipyards of the Pentastar Alignment...!

"What do you mean "maybe"?" Mara almost blurted out. "That's what's going to happen. That's what it's all about."

— I still haven't found any information about payment for the work. There is no advance payment, no guarantees of payment! I suspect that you receive your salary regularly, but for some reason you think that I and my people will want to work for the amount that you plan to offer us. No, Lieutenant Jade, this is not how things are done. You provide us with a technical task, and we will draw up an estimate and decide how much money you owe us...

Mara sensed with the Force that someone else was entering the office. A sentient. A human. A man.

— ... and lately they've gotten into the habit of slipping in crappy projects and demanding... — Mr. Zion continued. And he was not at all embarrassed by the fact that an Imperial suddenly appeared next to Mara. Judging by the rank plaques – a Moff. And with a painfully familiar face, somewhat reminiscent of a Tatooine womp rat...

— Enough, Ryan, — the newcomer said with laziness, almost contempt. — You are testing our patience for too long. I have already heard about what you are allowing yourself, and this means that it is time to stop your unrestrained behavior.

— Disra, — Mr. Zion did not say, but literally spat it out.

— For you – "Moff Disra," — the newcomer remarked. He gave Mara a very benevolent, almost patronizing look, and then looked at the shipbuilder again. — I am authorized to tell you to pack your things and get out of here. Details of your order, Lieutenant — he looked again at Mara, who was trying her best to look surprised. In fact, she had long been accustomed to the infighting of the Imperials with each other in the presence of outsiders. Nothing new.

— What are you talking about? — Zion frowned. — I am in charge of the military section of the shipyards and...

— You are no longer in charge of anything, — Disra approached one of the ships located on the stand near the nearest wall of the office. He very quickly broke the polymer of the model, and pulled out a portable holocamera. — You should at least pay attention that your favorite toys have a tendency to change. In general, this record is quite enough to finally get rid of you. Easily and simply.

— It seems you're forgetting, Disra, that you're no longer a grand moff, but just a pet on Kane's leash, — Zion said haughtily, leaning back in his chair. — It's not up to you to decide on personnel issues...

— And I didn't decide them either, — Moff Disra chuckled. Mara remembered him. A bastard who should have been killed much earlier. — It's Kane's decision. So pack up and get out of here. This, — he demonstrated the holocamera, — will be a suitable piece of material evidence of your arrogant ego. Your services are no longer needed.

— Don't need it anyway, — the shipbuilder snorted, getting up from his seat. — In any case, your miserable crafts that you begged me to build here are just dust thrown in your eyes. Self-deception. And a Hutt with you. Anyway, you're not able to give me what I want to get... All the bad things, — the man, without even trying to take anything with him, silently left his workplace.

— Oh... what happened? — Mara batted her eyes, continuing to maintain her legend.

— Dismissal of a negligent employee, — Moff Disra chuckled. He looked at the holocamera in his hands, then picked off the panel with his fingernail and pulled out the memory card. — Well, since this performance is over, let's talk frankly, Lieutenant Jade.

Mara tensed up internally, estimating whether she could resist this man in hand-to-hand combat. Yes, without a doubt.

The man walked around the table, and then lowered himself into the vacated chair. He put on the table a well-recognized device – a scrambler, which did not allow various recording devices to record the conversation.

— So, you want to carry out work at our shipyards, — he didn't even ask, but stated it, confirming Mara's suspicion that there was a wiretap in this office. The purpose of the Nemesis's visit was not reported, only the fact itself. Only the departed Mr. Zion saw the documents with the approximate task.

— Well, kind of yes... — Mara feigned some uncertainty, which a woman who is not deprived of intelligence should be experiencing now.

— Okay, I will personally see to it that everything is carried out as needed, — Disra said. — But let's talk about something else.

— What about? — Mara lisped, but understood that the most interesting part would begin now. It was not for nothing that Disra used the word "performance" in his speech.

— Ryan Zion, — the Moff said. — You came here for him. You will get him. I will contribute to this for a meeting with your commander.

"What are you talking about?" Mara was surprised.

— I don't understand...

— Listen and don't interrupt, Lieutenant, — Disra snarled. — If you don't have the information, it doesn't mean that the one who sent you doesn't have it. And the situation is extremely simple. On Tangrene, where Grand Admiral Thrawn is based, you have a shipyard. Not the best, but you won't get anything better in the near future, as well as qualified personnel. I convinced Mr. Zion that it was necessary to play this scene with dismissal – Grand Moff Kaine is planning to get rid of him anyway. As well as from your commander.

— From the Grand Admiral? — Mara batted her eyes. So. It seems she didn't even have to pretend to be overly surprised and pretend to be a fool. She got too much into the role.

— That's right, my girl, — it's better to have an unwashed Hutt as a friend than to be benevolent to you! After she was a dancer for Jabba, she was not afraid of anything. — Fortunately for you, I am ready to help you so that this does not happen. Actually, for this help, you are required very little.

— And what is it? — the girl batted her eyes. A snarl appeared on Moff Disra's face. Indeed, he looks like a womp rat. She hoped that he did not understand that she had flinched from disgust at his persona, and not from fear.

— Let's just say, — he said. — Your Grand Admiral could use an ally in the Pentastar Alignment. Shipyards, technology, materials, personnel. As I understand it, you have problems with this. And I have information that can help your Grand Admiral get out of an extremely difficult situation.

— And what is it? — Mara wanted with all her soul to stop pretending, but understood that then the whole legend would collapse. And this puny little man would know more than he should.

— Everything has its time, Lieutenant Jade, — Disra smiled repulsively. — I know that your Grand Admiral is desperately looking for political allies. This attracts unnecessary attention to his person. Let's just say – I don't mind helping him – as proof of my good intentions, I even discussed your offer to Mr. Zion for you. And I will say this – he agrees to cooperate with you. And a very fruitful one – believe me, he has something to offer. But it is not valued here. Therefore, consider that I have helped you in advance and strengthened the position of the Grand Admiral. Of course, if you follow his advice. But this is a separate conversation that interests me the least.

— And what interests you? — Mara asked.

— The transition from second roles to first ones, — Moff Disra said. Oh, wow. And she had already forgotten what a snake pit this Empire is and its cunning, sneaky officers. — It is beneficial for you – you will have powerful support. Unconditional. Including in the conquest of the remaining Imperial Remnants and their subsequent division between the two of us, as the most intelligent and worthy Imperial officers. The Grand Admiral, I assure you, will not be disappointed with my offer.

— I will certainly report it, — Mara said. — But you said that Thrawn was threatened with some problems...

— Oh, no, my girl, — Disra wagged his finger at her. — First, you will go to your Supreme Commander — Mara noted the logical emphasis in the phrase — and deliver his fundamental consent for me. And then you will get the necessary information for you. I advise you to hurry – time is precious these days...

The Hand of Thrawn almost ground her teeth. The Moff was conducting a rather vile and clearly not hastily developed multi-move combination. And he was certainly going to eliminate Kane to take his place. Only in order to divide the remaining Imperial Remnants... And undoubtedly take over the best of them. After all, if you look at the map, the shipyards of Ord Trasi and Bilbringi are much closer to the Pentastar Alignment than to Tangrene... It's all clear. He intends to use Thrawn, and to remain as if not involved.

Cunning and vile. You can't expect anything else from someone like Disra.

— I will report everything to the Grand Admiral, — Mara smiled. Clearly understanding that she would have to disturb the Chiss on the eve of the battle for Kai Fel. — I'm sure we will come to a decision.

— The main thing is that it is beneficial for both sides, — Moff Disra reminded.

— Of course, — Mara nodded like a bobblehead.

It will clearly suit Thrawn. And his allies, subordinates – including them. But as for you, you dirty traitor... It is unlikely that the Grand Admiral's decision will not only suit you, but also in general will somehow contribute to the extension of your worthless life.

***

— Grand Admiral, sir, — Captain Pellaeon straightened up, seeing the Supreme Commander entering the bridge of the Chimaera. — The fleet is assembled, there are no malfunctions, we are at a yellow alert level.

— Have the scouts arrived? — Thrawn inquired, settling into his chair. Ysalamiri, who had become the constant companion of the commander, habitually sprawled on his snow-white trousers.

— Yes, sir, — Pellaeon handed the Chiss a datapad with the reports of the reconnaissance groups.

— No changes, — he said after a few minutes, having quickly run through the lines. — No ships in neighboring systems, no strengthening of their own defenses...

— They are not expecting an attack, — Pellaeon smirked.

— Perhaps, — Thrawn looked at him. — Have you ever encountered such a lack of talent in the Kuat fleet?

— Sir? — Gilad asked again.

— The enemy in every way indicates that he is incompetent in matters of creating planetary defense, — the Chiss said. — Six stations, and none of them block the other with fire. In fact, the enemy offers anyone who knows about these "flaws" to use them and bring ships there. Curious, isn't it?

— The range of our starships is suitable, — Pellaeon said. — We shoot at them and hit targets, but they don't always.

— Is that so? — Thrawn asked. — Captain, how long does it take for one Imperial Star Destroyer to destroy a Firestar-class station? Using only turbolasers.

— Um... — Gilad hesitated. Where would he know this from? — I'm sorry, I don't have the information.

— Two and a half hours, — Thrawn said. — For this reason, they were decommissioned first from the Republican, and then from the Imperial fleet. It is not your fault, Captain. Ignorance is not a vice only if there is a desire to fight it. Similar tests were conducted in the early years of the Empire. Not natural tests, a mathematical model. The data on this is available in the archives. In fact, the testing conditions are the same ones they are offering us to use. Pay attention to the size of the free space from shelling, — Thrawn inserted an infochip into the receiving slot of his chair. A hologram of Kai Fel appeared, decorated with various colored lines.

— We are actually invited to enter these spaces free from the enemy's turbolaser fire to start an artillery duel with the defense stations, — Thrawn said. — Do you see the dots on the surface?

— Yes, sir, these are the places where air defense systems are concentrated, — Pellaeon said. After taking a closer look, he frowned and said:

— They are located on the surface directly under the space that is free in orbit from the enemy's turbolaser fire, — he realized.

— And at the same time, this space allows not only to duel with the stations, but also to launch shuttles to land troops, doesn't it? — Thrawn asked. — After all, it is possible to carry out an orbital bombardment of the surface, suppressing the air defense forces, and then, without fear, land troops.

— Yes, this is a textbook tactic for landing troops from orbit, — Pellaeon said. Sweat appeared on his forehead. — Sir, do you assume that there are also anti-space defense guns among the air defense forces?

— I don't rule out this fact, — Thrawn said. — But it is doubtful from the point of view that our intelligence has not discovered it. Another thing is curious. Two and a half hours required to destroy at least one Firestar-class station. Our intelligence has searched the surrounding space, hasn't it?

— Yes, sir... We didn't go any further from the point of view of security.

— And you did right, — Thrawn said. — In two hours, a ship with a second or even first class hyperdrive is able to cover a distance twice as large as one star system. Do you get the idea?

— Kuat's reinforcements beyond the distance we searched, — Pellaeon swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. — As soon as we start shooting at the Firestars, they will be here in two hours.

— Exactly, — Thrawn said. — The trap is very ingenious. Lure with alleged gaps in the defense. Force them to stay in a clearly defined space. At the same time, until at least one station is suppressed, the landing of troops on the surface is doomed to huge losses. In fact, it is necessary to first destroy at least one station in order to choose a less saturated air defense area for the invasion corridor of the landing party.

— And during the time we will be destroying orbital stations, reinforcements will arrive and squeeze us between the stations and themselves, — Pellaeon finished the thought. — Sir, they want to take us in a classic "box".

— I agree, it is very ingenious on the part of whoever commands the forces of Kuat, to so skillfully disguise a simple textbook tactical technique, — a slight smile played on Thrawn's lips. His hand reached for the commander of the Chimera. Gilad saw an information chip clamped between the Chiss's thumb and forefinger.

— Pass on the orders to the fleet ships, — the Grand Admiral ordered.

— Sir? — Pellaeon's eyes crawled onto his forehead. — Do you intend to attack?

— And is something confusing you, Captain? — the Grand Admiral asked, looking at his subordinate with a look full of surprise and misunderstanding. As if there is some other way to react.

— Sir... — Gilad felt that his voice was starting to fail him. No, he trusted Thrawn's tactical genius, but... To climb straight into a trap, with the probability that they could be crushed like a pesky insect... — It's a trap.

— Of course, Captain, — Thrawn nodded in agreement. — And we will fall into it...