Grand Admiral

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—Welcome aboard, madam,— the employee returned her boarding pass with a wide smile, stepping aside and clearing her passage into the apartment. — Your cabin is located on the third deck in the area for special clients. There is direct access to the restaurant, observation deck and...

—Casino,— Mara smiled charmingly, continuing to play her role as a rich aristocrat. —The first thing I would like to do is try my luck and spend a tidy sum with you.

—I'm sure that such a chic young lady will have good luck today and throughout the entire seven-day tour around the reefs,— she had heard this common phrase more than once. — The exit to the casino is the second turn to the right from your cabin. The elevator will take you directly to the main entrance. Only,— his gaze slid over the girl's shoulder. —Your, like any security guard, is prohibited from visiting places of entertainment and recreation for first and second class passengers —casinos, restaurants, etc. —the compartments have a table designation,— he pointed to a small illuminated sign at the far end of the corridor, where the inscription —Passengers Only— was lit first class.

—Why these restrictions? —Mara Jade frowned.

— These are the rules of the Coral Vanda security service,— the steward said, looking down slightly. — We apologize for any inconvenience, ma'am.

And now she has two obvious options —create a scandal and it is unlikely that this will change anything, but it will attract unwanted influence to her and the fighters, or remain silent. In any case, she only has two stormtroopers dressed in civilian clothes —there were no more people with less ferocious faces on board the Nemesis.

—Well, if so, then I hope your security service is sufficiently qualified,— she wrinkled her nose theatrically, creating the appearance of a young rich woman who did not like what was said, but she still decided to give this establishment a chance or pleasantly surprise her with service and comfort . —I won't have to fear that some robbers will take me hostage somewhere on the decks and threaten me with a blaster to take away jewelry or honestly won credits?

—No way, ma'am,— the steward's eyes widened. It seems that this was the first time he had heard such a complaint against the company and its employees. Not that Mara was worried about anyone wanting her cheap jewelry and small supply of money. Her provocative questions had a completely different purpose. And it's unlikely that a young employee will figure it out. — We have real-time visual surveillance cameras on every deck, no blind spots! Only security personnel have weapons, and believe me, there are no thieves or robbers on board...

«And also cheaters, swindlers, imperial spies and stormtroopers in disguise» Mara finished his thought for him. Looks like it's another place. But she was not going to interrupt the veiled interrogation. The boy knows a lot. And for a couple of smiles I'm ready to tell you. «Men» Jade thought sadly and condemningly, casting a furtive glance at the mirrored panel of the corridor. From there, a tall red-haired beauty in a beautiful tight dress and a chic hairstyle, which was done in the best salons of Coruscant, looked at her. Hmm... but it really turned out well. Should go to the hairdressers — created such beauty myself...

—Well, you convinced me,— she smiled sweetly at the steward. —I see that it was not for nothing that my friend Hoffner praised your establishment so much.

— Are you Mr. Hoffner's girlfriend? —the steward came to life.

—Yes, what is it? — Mara smiled, internally wary.

—Oh, he's our regular customer,— the steward smiled. —Very generous...

«Oh, you little extortionist!» thought Mara. But it was unnecessary to violate the legend of a rich lady that she herself had created. Otherwise, you won't be able to get on board the Coral Vanda —there are only first and second class passengers. And a ticket for a seven-day cruise costs one hundred and fifty thousand credits, respectively. And cheaper ones are not provided for by company policy.

Snapping her fingers, she reached into her purse, from where she pulled out a one-hundred credit chip and handed it to the steward. He, with a deft, almost imperceptible movement, received the award.

—Thank you, miss,— he smiled, hoping to sneak away after receiving the «tip».

—One moment, dear,— the girl called out to him, luring him with another chip of the same value. —My friend Hoffner is on the ship now?

—Of course, ma'am,— the steward smiled, hiding another portion of credits in his pocket. —He's been living here for the last couple of years.

—So that's why I can't get through to him,— Mara smiled. —He's having fun. Do you happen to know where he is now?

as usual,— the steward received another credit chip. —To the casino.

—Thanks for the tip,— the girl smiled. — By the way, is the cruise starting soon?

The ship, as if it had decided to answer her question, began to slowly tremble, clearly plunging into the oceanic abyss.

— Already,— the employee smiled. —If Miss doesn't need anything else...

—If I need anything, I'll definitely find you,— Mara smiled dutifully, unlocking the door to her apartment with the key card. She had already received all the answers she needed. It's time to start the mission.

When the door closed and half an hour later the trio of imperial spies had finished searching the home, which they had no intention of using properly, she went to the mirror and easily took off the necklace made of expensive-looking stones. Throwing it to the nearest «guard» she said:

— Assemble the transmitter and inform the Nemesis that we are ready. They'll be here within an hour of receiving the signal, enough time to find Hoffner and isolate him.

The stormtroopers silently began to gut the suitcases with luggage, in the walls of which scattered parts of the transmitter were hidden. The security service will probably detect them, but it will take some time. Quite enough to visit the casino.

The girl, grabbing an elegant but comfortable dress laid out from her suitcase, headed to the bathroom to change.

The task is a task, but how nice it is to feel like a luxurious woman again. And even though the costs of this operation had already cost the Empire a good quarter of a million, she had no doubt that if the outcome was favorable, Thrawn would not be outraged by such expenses.

The Grand Admiral never worried about spending money at all.

***

Nez Peron's orbital defense left an impression of its monumentality.

More than twenty orbital defense platforms of the Golan II type and this is already a lot. One such protective station costs about twenty-nine million credits. An elementary mathematical exercise and now, we can safely say that the D'asta family once invested five hundred and eighty million in their defense. And he invested it wisely. After all, with this money it was possible to purchase three imperial star destroyers or ships of a similar class. Well, here's the catch —three destroyers in the event of a serious siege company by Nez Peron will not last long. But the "Golans" are a completely different category. These stations have artillery and defensive power equivalent to that of the same Star Destroyer. And a very large strength. If you surround the planet with a sufficient number of orbital stations so that they are able to cross-fire and support each other's turbolasers, it will not be easy to break through such a barrier. Without colossal losses, for sure.

Of course, this condition does not apply to those who have in reserve super star destroyers or battle stations equipped with axial superlasers such as those located on ships like the Eclipse or combat planetoids like the Death Star.

The ships that took part in the attack on the Crondre system encountered only one such station of the Golan II type and they had a hard time. But there were four Star Destroyers. And here it is no longer worth seriously talking about the fact that they suffered losses after getting stuck in a fight with the rebel ships —on the contrary, this is a clear indicator of how effective such a line of defense is. Orbital stations and support fleet ships... Strong. Especially when you consider that such defense tactics are widespread in the galaxy on planets with a large monetary turnover and high strategic importance.

I have enough money to buy two, maybe three of these orbital stations, but what's the point? After all, in this case I will simply be left without funds to maintain the fleet. When there is a little more money, then yes, it will be possible to think about securing Tangrene with one or two more stations. But only after our crippled trophy arrives and the chief engineer makes his verdict regarding the professional suitability of our homemade «DIY» in a factory environment.

It is also worth noting that Nez Peron also has a natural barrier to a surprise attack an asteroid field that surrounds the capital world of the sector. And if I understand correctly, most of the vectors for entering the system are aimed directly at having to break through a cluster of cosmic boulders. Only the dispatch station can transmit the fairway for unimpeded movement and I am sure that the number of subscribers who can receive such information is extremely limited. Not to mention that there are space mines hidden in the asteroid field. And the shapesless pieces of stone themselves simultaneously serve as a base for fighters —the largest of the asteroids. And the space mining stations in the asteroid belt were clearly not out for a walk. Not to mention the ships of the notorious private military fleet drifting in orbit. I have no doubt that even a couple hundred CR90s will be enough to wash any enemy fleet with blood.

One way or another, the D'asta family clearly and indelibly gave the impression of Imperials who clearly had an idea not only of fortifying defensive systems, but also of a pragmatic approach to the competent use of available resources. Nez Peron is only an agricultural planet for a reason —the baron and his associates will get all the necessary metals from asteroids. And in the most suitable of them, after the rock has been developed, it is possible to organize space bases. Now it's clear why the New Republic doesn't get involved in this sector and it's more than «tasty». If the locals approached the issue of defense of the other planets even partially in the same style, there is nothing to catch here. Of course, unless you have a super star destroyer or a combat planetoid. Ironic...

The residence of Baron Ragez D'asta did not give the impression of being the abode of a man possessing enormous wealth and controlling a prosperous sector of the galaxy.

Looking at the building, which was somehow very similar to the palaces of European monarchs from my past, I could not help but admire how organically the spacious building, only three floors high, fits into the landscape of the agricultural planet Nez Peron.

Decorated with stucco, columns, openwork curls, statues and figures made of valuable minerals, the grayish-blue building was located in the middle of endless fields planted with grain crops. From the height of the shuttle flight one could see figures of workers in intelligent fields, agricultural machinery harvesting crops, alleys of neatly decorated green spaces, spacious duracrete areas encircling the perimeter of the residence, alternating with alleys planted with perfectly straight trees, painfully similar to those I I saw it on Earth... True, only in photographs that my friends brought from vacation. For obvious reasons, the fleet analyst did not have the opportunity to go abroad to the countries of the successfully «decaying West».

Residence of Baron Ragez D'asta

The shuttle landed on a landing pad marked with reflective lines and patterns. The supports touched the durable building material and a sharp sound was heard as the pressure of the cooling systems was released. The harmless white-gray steam escaped into the atmosphere with a whistle and hiss.

The landing ramp touched duracrete with a quiet clang, revealing a view of the surroundings, flooded with natural light, where a squad of escort stormtroopers from the Star Destroyer had already poured out. Having looked at the perfect synchronization of movements with which Captain Astorias's soldiers lined up in two short lines on either side of the gangway, I thought, shouldn't I get my own ceremonial department? It would probably be even more pragmatic —to secure a separate shuttle for itself, modernizing it to taste. Find a suitable crew for him, a well-trained escort team... Yes, I have Rukh —he is still sneaking behind, looking in all directions, identifying threats. But the Noghri are not first-line fighters. He is a spy, saboteur, killer, bodyguard. But if there is a need to take on a full-scale battle, this is where professional soldiers are needed. Superbly trained specifically for this.

Hmm... this idea is worth thinking about carefully. Very, very detailed, comprehensively assessing all the pros and cons.

A caustic thought struck me: «What am I capable of in battle, if we put aside the abilities of my soldiers and Noghri?» It seems that there is no need to take up the blaster myself — I am still a naval commander, I have at hand an entire squadron of star destroyers capable of turning the surface of the planet into slag and more than one. Why do I need more exercises with a blaster? And in a past life I didn't particularly like service weapons, but here...

No. It is absolutely necessary.

I look at how, ten meters from the Lambda that brought me to the surface, the brave guys from the regular army with imperial insignia, dressed in gray uniforms and light body armor, settled down, and I think: «Now if they happened to start a firefight, what would happen? A whole company of armed infantry against me, the Noghri and a squad of stormtroopers. How long will we live?»

Yes, under the jacket there is a light cuirass, capable of stopping not the most serious blaster shots and kinetic projectiles, but still? Shouldn't you think about getting a personal energy shield as well? It seems that there are such in the galaxy —if I remember the plots of some games based on the Galaxy Far, Far Away, then there is no doubt about this. Then here's another puzzle for the mind —to find out the reason for the non-use of personal shields in the current realities. Perhaps there are none at the moment. Or they didn't exist at all, but were invented solely as gaming conventions.

But that's all later.

At the moment I was more interested in the colorful figure of Baron D'ast, who greeted me in person.

Baron Rages D'asta.

A tall but strongly built man, with slightly sharp facial features, dressed in simple clothes in purple tones and sharply contrasting gray hair, he inspired with his authoritarianism. His piercing gaze of yellowish-brown eyes took a few seconds to appreciate the small performance I had put on. And I am sure that he was not embarrassed by either the stormtroopers or the presence of weapons on the Lambda after what I saw in orbit, I am firmly convinced that the residence has very good self-defense systems. Planetary turbolasers, disguised as something like an angular «water tower» made of gray stones, whose top very much resembled the camouflage dome of a ship's gun. Perhaps something else is hidden underground or in the palace itself. If not, then I will even be disappointed.

—Grand Admiral Thrawn,— the imperial aristocrat greeted me courteously, sporting an enviable posture. He was not inferior to me in height, but superior in shoulders. Obviously in the past he was involved in strength sports, gaining «mass». Now it is clear that the man has slightly lost his color, but continues to maintain himself in suitable sHapes. In some ways it reminds me of about five years before my death —while my health allowed, I tried not to let myself become flabby. After the diagnosis it was no longer the case...

Another thought: «Isn't it worth organizing a small gym in your apartment? Analytics is certainly good, but a trained body is also important». Well, let's remember.

—Baron D'asta,— I returned the courtesy. No head nodding, no handshakes, nothing social. His sector is connected with the Empire, to which I formally belong, through contractual obligations. He is respected and appreciated by the rulers of the Empire. Because he himself is the ruler. I am a commander. Only the status of Supreme Commander-in-Chief somehow adds weight to me and allows me to match my interlocutor in terms of authority.

—May I suggest you take a walk, Grand Admiral? — asked the gray-haired man.

—I will certainly agree to your initiative,— I replied. Noticing that the aristocrat headed towards one of the alleys while his soldiers remained on the landing site, he threw Rukha over his shoulder:

—Wait,— after which he walked with a calm step after the baron. Out of delicacy, he pretended to admire some plant in the flowerbed and gave me the opportunity to catch up with him.

The Baron watched for several minutes the carpet of wildflowers with which the flowerbed was planted. And if you don't know this for sure, you might think that the flowers are planted chaotically. But from a flight altitude it is clearly visible that the plants are planted with an image of the coat of arms of a family of aristocrats. Not too pompous, but... quite simple and tasteful.

—I heard that the New Republic suffered heavy losses in the Dafilvean sector,— he finally said, stopping looking at the flowers and slowly walking along the flowerbed.

—Not so heavy,— I did not exaggerate my merits. Again, a reason for reasoning: whose victory is this? Mine, because I planned the attacks, planned a logical trap for the insane C'baoth, forcing him to use his Battle Meditation, developed plans to storm the bases on Ord Pardnon and Krondor so that the New Republic still did not understand what the purpose of the destruction of these bases «meteorites»? Or is this the victory of an insane clone who, with an ultimatum, managed to subjugate an entire fleet to his power and took advantage of the deep knowledge of hundreds of thousands of intelligent ones to achieve results?

as I heard, the entire line of star cruisers survived,— the baron noted.

—The command removed them from the sectoral fleet,— I explained.

—So you hit the weak? — the baron asked provocatively.

—I struck the enemy,— the calm answer aroused interest in the eyes of the aristocrat.

— Do you think that the New Republic is our enemy? —he asked. A very interesting question posed.

Because the Imperials prefer to call the new owners of Coruscant «rebels» and «insurgents». At the same time, there is always disdain in the voice. But the baron used a completely different vocabulary. The one that I use from time to time. Because it's high time for the Imperials to understand something. The Rebels are no longer «the boys from Coruscant».

—I believe that our states have mutual claims that can be resolved exclusively through force,— I explained. —The rigidity of thinking does not allow our military to even say "New Republic" out loud to identify the enemy.

—Yes, this is a funny play on words,— the Baron grinned. —What do you think, Grand Admiral? Who are they? Rebels or New Republicans.

—By calling them "rebels" we are trying to awaken in ourselves a nostalgic craving for the times when the Empire controlled most of the galaxy in a durasteel fist, and the rebels were only a handful of desperate, intelligent ones,— I noted. —For their greed and short-sightedness after the death of the Emperor, our military leaders did not notice that with their own hands they destroyed something that should have survived and flourished for thousands of years. At least that's what was planned.

—I think we can say that the implementation of the Emperor's plan to create a galactic state has undergone... significant deviations from the plan,— the Baron noted diplomatically.

This man is not easy to act. Devilishly not easy. It seemed as if he said everything easily and naturally as if he was voicing everything he was thinking without any processing. While I am sure that every phrase he says and the meaning he puts into it is the fruit of long thoughts and analysis of the situation in the galaxy. He plays a word game, judging my own answers. And you don't need to be a prophet to understand that his reaction to my proposals will depend entirely on whether we agree on key points.

And I saw no reason to bend my soul, to get away in order to somehow get some crumbs from the master's table from him.

—The implementation of any plan depends on theJudicators,— I noted. — A plan can be perfect, ideal and humane, but if those tasked with implementing it do not understand the essence, then the final result will not meet at least some criteria for long-termism. The collapse of the Empire clearly demonstrated this to us.

—Do you think we will collapse? —the baron clarified.

—I assume that we will continue to fight with varying success if we do not change our attitude towards the enemy,— I said. —They are no longer "rebels" —they are a power to be reckoned with. They have Coruscant at their disposal, and most of the inhabited worlds consider their possession of it to be their possession of the entire galaxy. Their navy is larger than ours and their armed forces are superiorly trained. If earlier we fought with a bunch of fanatics and selfless idealists, now they have been replaced by battle-hardened pragmatists and strategists, not inferior, and in some places superior to those at our disposal. To underestimate them is dangerous for the very existence of the Empire. As soon as we understand this, we will find an acceptable way out of the situation.

— And what is he like, in your opinion? — the baron asked quietly, but with undisguised interest.

I did not take a theatrical pause.

—Peace, Baron,— gray eyebrows crawled up. —Only a peace treaty with the New Republic will save the Empire from complete destruction.

***

Coral Vanda was a well-advertised entertainment resort. Under other circumstances, Mara might even have admired the scale and decoration of the premises, but today and now she had a more important mission.

The spacious section of the casino was amazing in its scope. If there is at least one gambling game in the galaxy, it was represented here by a good dozen gaming tables. Sabbac, lagjack, tregald, holo-chess, roulette, slot machines... Even the outdated pazzak —there are tables for that. And a considerable number of people want to play behind them.

The spacious room was divided into two symmetrical halves by an impressively sized bar filled with bottles with contents so varied that Mara almost whistled. The owners of this resort clearly tried to ensure that clients and passengers could drink whatever their soul could desire during the celebration of the winnings. Or, more often, in order to drown grief with comfort and sophistication.

The completely transparent wall of the gaming room made it possible to enjoy the beauty of the ocean: the low speed of the cruise ship did not excite the schools of silvery and curious fish, who were probably already accustomed to observing this huge miracle of technical thought, blazing with artificial lights.

The intricately curved coral reefs through which the ship was heading were in beautiful harmony with the blue-green, almost transparent water of the ocean in the coastal strip. Yes, under other circumstances she could have spent a lot of time here.

Especially considering the fact that Coral Vanda had as many as seven such luxurious gaming rooms. And now the red-haired beauty got to the last one, without betraying her irritation by the fact that she could not find the object she was looking for.

—Milady wants a drink? — the bartender asked as she approached the counter to see the half-asleep drinkers sitting behind her, who had spent a lot of money in the very first hours of their stay on the liner. But all of them, one way or another, are rich and intelligent. They have more. And a lot.

—Something non-alcoholic,— she asked. Not that she was afraid of spending big —she had the money, but drinks and meals are included in the cost of the cruise for first class passengers. The less wealthy sane ones of the second class could afford these delights for an additional fee.

However, the red-haired beauty hated drinking alcohol on a mission. There is no need to cloud your head and pump up your body if this can be avoided. In the past, she often celebrated the completion of particularly difficult missions over a glass of expensive wine... Perhaps it will be the same this time.

—Please,— the bartender provided her with a glass of freshly squeezed juice, decorating the straw with a multi-colored umbrella. —Can I help you with something?

Common work courtesy. Reinforced by the fact that the rich and intelligent are for the most part willing to spend little money for tips on their hobbies. A simple trick that often works.

—I'm just enjoying the views,— Mara looked up from her feigned contemplation of the coral reef, actually looking at the players sitting facing her. Hoffner, whose appearance she had studied perfectly from the Imperial files before the mission, was not among them. Well, now she will finish looking around in this way and begin to wander around the hall, supposedly looking closely at the tables, choosing which one to join.

But she definitely won't play —with trained eyes, despite the lack of long professional practice, she figured out that almost every gaming company has a professional cheater. Surely they work for the company management and help passengers get rid of their money quickly. Simple and uncomplicated. Whatever one may say, the casino always wins. That's what it was created for.

— Excellent view, don't you think? —said the bartender, starting to rub another glass with a snow-white towel. — These corals are many years old...

—Yes, I heard about that,— Mara said casually, turning to the bartender. After all, why not make your job easier? —From one of my friends. Maybe you know him? Hoffner...

—Yes, miss,— the bartender broke into a professional smile. — Our regular customer.

—Is that so? — Mara skillfully expressed surprise. — It's strange that I don't see him among the casino's clients.

—He left,— the bartender said simply. — Host again and went with one lady to my room. You missed each other by literally an hour. He got very drunk, of course, but at least this time didn't have to drag him to the room.

A talkative and knowledgeable employee is the bread and butter of any enterprise. And even the Empire —how many such talkers did Mara personally silence forever? But now she needs this boy —he can make her work much easier.

She spent almost all the available time on the search —in ten or twenty minutes the Nemisis would arrive. And by this point, Hoffner should be ready to move to a less comfortable room.

And this guy looks like he's still organizing his personal life, in parallel with the fact that he's spending crazy amounts of money. Wonder where he got them from? Moreover, in such a volume —to be a regular customer... If her memory serves her, then such an attitude towards visitors to the establishment is shown after several years of stable «cooperation». And if so, then how can a person who loses «to zero», judging by the reaction of the bartender...

We need to somehow find out where exactly Hoffner is. Hacking into a cruise ship's computer network is not a good idea. She is probably well protected —given such a large number and contingent of clients... Hmm, interesting, how did Thrawn know that this person was here? And why does he need it?

Well, she will add these questions to her list. And he will announce it by the time he meets him in person. And she had no doubt about the latter.

—Do you have any problems? — asked the bartender. Mara mentally cursed, realizing that she was thinking too much and her emotions were reflected on her face. Loses his dexterity, however.

—Yes,— during her career as the Emperor's personal agent, she played out various pre-prepared scenarios more than once or twice in order to achieve what she wanted. And she has a lot of ready-made schemes in stock. She was going to demonstrate one of them now. —You can help me?

—If it's within my power,— the bartender smiled.

—I'd like to know what cabin Hoffner is in,— she said. The bartender shook his head.

—Sorry, I can't share this information with you,— he said. — We do not distribute clients' personal data.

—Yes, but you would help me a lot with this,— she smiled, adding melancholy to her facial expression. —You see, Hoffner is my fiancé. He proposed and my father is ready to marry me to him. The wedding is about to take place, but if Hoffner is cheating on me... You are a decent young man —I understood it at first sight! And you understand perfectly well that if I marry someone who is not faithful to me, I will be disgraced! And in our circles such a stain cannot be washed away —even if we get divorced, I will never be able to arrange my destiny again...

She extended her palm across the bar towards the bartender. He continued to polish the glass, not taking his eyes off her. He thought about what she told him. Small psychological tricks an appeal to pride. Will it work... or will we have to take both stormtroopers and knock down the doors to each cabin?

— Room eleven—thirty-eight, first class,— he leaned forward, covering her hand with a towel. Mara smiled and pushed a chip worth a thousand credits in his direction. It's unlikely that this guy earns that much per week, so he'll be happy about the gift. — I am always for honesty between partners.

—I'll remember that,— Mara smiled playfully, winking at him. The image of an ambiguous beautiful aristocrat often helped her out. Now all that remained was to decorate the legend properly. —If you see Hoffner with the mark of a woman's hand on his face, come see me after your shift. Room ten-twenty.

—I'll be free in seven hours,— the guy touched her fingers encouragingly. He seemed confident that he would have a good time tonight. After all, for him, even the position of a toy in the hands of a rich aristocrat may turn out to be a much more prosperous future compared to working here.

—I'll remember,— the girl winked at the bartender and headed towards the exit. The credit chip disappeared into the folds of the towel.

Walking out of the doors of the gaming room, the girl took out a small powder compact from her clutch, pretending that she intended to powder her nose. In fact, this simple-looking device was one of the few that she had left from the glorious days of working for the Emperor. And she did not part with them for the entire time that passed.

The cloaked holocommunicator projected a small figure of one of the stormtroopers. The height of a little finger, it was conveniently covered with the lid of a powder compact.

— What will be the instructions? — the imperial clarified.

—Room eleven-thirty-eight,— she said. —The target is believed to be there. Block, but don't storm. Let's start at the same time as Nemesis arrives.

—Yes, ma'am,— the figure disappeared.

Mara approached the turbolift doors. She has half a minute to get back to her room, a couple of minutes to don the more practical combat suit of their fabric armor. And a few minutes to get to Hoffner's cabin and assess the situation.

And then the real fun begins.

***

The Baron was silent for some time. Judging by the fact that his face was trying not to express any significant emotions, my answer surprised him. Well, I do not intend to adapt to the worldview of every first ruler of the sector, just to get something significant from him. I am willing to spend money to get the resources I need. I am ready for mutually beneficial cooperation —within acceptable limits, of course.

But don't flirt with the rich.

I know what they don't know. And I'm not sure that it would be wise to talk about mythical conquerors from a distant galaxy —those who are smarter will demand proof. After all, modern science has already proven the fact that leaving the galaxy is very, very difficult —the gravitational anomaly blocks the operation of the hyperdrive and it will take an unreasonably long time in subjective terms to overcome it. Not everyone will dare to do this. And even fewer people will achieve results.

But among my not-so-smart «comrades» I won't have any faith at all. Conceit and rigidity of views are what hinder development. And I don't want to fight this. I am sure that there are many planets, systems and sectors in the galaxy that, for one reason or another, will want to become part of the restructured Empire. The way I see it. But now I am not able to build such a state. Which does not exclude the fact of carefully probing the soil and surroundings to find allies in my endeavor. I have time before Palpatine's revival.

—What is your opinion based on, Grand Admiral? asked the baron. — On the potential power of the New Republic? On their quantitative superiority?

—On logic,— I refuted the assumptions. — The Galactic Empire occupied a much larger area and had a huge navy and army. But we were defeated. Less than a decade has passed since the death of the Emperor, and most sectors of the galaxy have united around those whom we call the rebels. Moreover, among them there are not only territories of exotics who were oppressed by the New Order, but also human systems. The same Kuat, for example. The Emperor relied on them; they were the main contractor of our military-industrial complex. What made them abandon us, becoming a semi-independent state loyal to the New Republic?

—Strenght? —suggested the baron. From his look I realized that he himself understood the true answer. But he tests me. An interesting man. With brains. I could use this one. But to do this, you should first understand what exactly he wants.

—Kuat owns a fleet that neither Imperial Space nor the New Republic can break,— I reminded. —Without huge losses, of course. They are attracted by the orders of the New Republicans, this is indisputable. Kuatovians are entrepreneurs and income is as important to them as their own prosperity. They would not have been able to maintain their capacity for so many millennia, increasing their wealth and developing technology, if they had not calculated their steps ahead. It is not without reason that they maintain a position of complacent neutrality towards the New Republic —this brings them income and stability. If the Empire tried to conquer them, they would be able to repel the attack and demand protection from the New Republic. And they will not be refused. Now let's look at the situation from the other side. What can the Empire offer them? Without going into details —much less than our opponents. Therefore, their choice is the New Republic. Simple pragmatism. I have no doubt that over time they will join the young state as full members. The New Republic's confederal structure allows them to pursue their own internal policies, and they are happy with that.

—My daughter is a member of the Imperial Ruling Council,— the baron suddenly said. —I'll tell you a secret that they have information that Kuat has already begun the process of joining the New Republic. It's just not advertised.

—Kuat is just a clear example,— I explained. — Other sectors are looking for similar benefits from their overlord state. The galaxy has been at war for many years. Sectors change hands. The common population is already simply tired of the constantly changing government. Therefore, they make choices regarding those who are the future. And these are not the current Imperial Remnants.

—Grand Moff Ardus Kaine might disagree with you,— Baron D'asta noted, observing my reaction.

—That's his right,— I answered neutrally. — In my opinion, the biggest mistake in the implementation of the Emperor's plan to build the Galactic Empire was that this power was imposed by force for one-sided benefit. He destroyed the Old Republic, but in fact everything remained as it was. We are not talking about solving the issue of piracy or the slave trade, which the Empire fought extremely harshly. And this is a plus, without a doubt. But at the same time, the Empire used slaves. The double standards make reasonable people wonder if they will be next when the Empire wants to build a new Death Star. And this encourages them to confront their fears. Even if they are illusory.

—Let's assume,— said the Baron. —But what way out do you propose? Give territories to the New Republic? Surrender?

—No way,— I said. — Change domestic policy to a more favorable one. Tell me, Baron, how many representatives of non-human races live in the D'astan sector?

—Hundreds, if not thousands,— the aristocrat answered with interest.

-Are they your slaves? —I asked.

—No,— understanding flashed in his eyes. — Workers at enterprises.

—Let's look at this from a pragmatic point of view,— I suggested. This man is interesting. Quite cleverly he seized the initiative of negotiations, «probing» me before moving on to discussing my own proposals, which led me to Nez Peron. — Any state is based primarily on its population. By belittling certain races, we create a reason for a social explosion and breed dissatisfied people. It was from these dissatisfied people that the Alliance for the Restoration of the Republic was created. Having broken the Empire, they did not do anything better —they returned everything to its roots. The same embezzlement, bureaucracy, inefficiency of the state apparatus. But reasonable people are ready to put up with this at least for now, because they know what the alternative may be a slave state under the New Order. And at the same time, there are examples of when the Empire was loyal to non-humans because they were useful to it. My bodyguard is a member of such a race.

—Quite interesting, by the way,— said the Baron. —I've never seen anything like this.

Ignoring the aristocrat's hint that he would like to know more about the Noghri, I continued:

—The New Republic has provided us with an example of how non-human races can be just as useful in government affairs as humans. Their commander-in-chief, Admiral Ackbar, is a Mon Calamari who was under Grand Moff Tarkin as a powerless slave. But he adopted all the best qualities of Tarkin, which speaks of his outstanding talents. He grew up and showed us more than once that his ability to win was not a set of tactics that he could learn from Tarkin. This is a style of thinking. Representatives of his race are building a fleet for the New Republic that successfully resists our star destroyers. Which in turn were created by outstanding shipbuilders. Verpins, for example, are excellent engineers who, without any equipment, are able to discern metal defects. The Colicoids created fighting machines that we didn't hesitate to use, because they were effective. The Neimoidians actually created their own state, if we apply an exaggerated interpretation in relation to the Trade Federation, absorbed by the Empire after the end of the Clone Wars. The Givin are excellent mathematicians who can at least create hyperdimensional routes —which they did during the Clone Wars for the Trade Federation and other Separatists. Cyborg General Grievous, who commanded an army of droids before his prosthetics, was a successful commander in his homeland. And he was able to cause a lot of trouble for the Old Republic during the Clone Wars. There are thousands of such examples. Doesn't this mean that these intelligent ones deserve at least attention? Now let's imagine what would have happened to the Rebel Alliance if the Empire had not pursued a policy of oppression against non-human races?

—You tell me,— suggested the Baron. — The alliance would not have formed?

—On the contrary,— I noted. —It's the people who are behind its creation. Dissatisfied with the usurpation of power. No ideology was at the basis of the formation of the Alliance. Simple pragmatism. The alliance was formed against the usurpation and trampling of liberties. It is impossible to eradicate the dissatisfied —only to reduce their number. But the Empire could have avoided such a scale of the Rebellion if not for the policies of the New Order. Why should someone rebel if he has a job, civil rights and liberties, is protected by law, and knows how harshly the authorities will treat him if he joins the rebels? Yes, there will be those who want it —but it will only be a loosely organized crowd that is easy to deal with. Because those who are able to calculate their actions in advance will not get involved in such adventures —for the most part. The reasoning is certainly abstract, since this is a complex question, rather than categorical. But I am sure that if the Empire did not use the same Mon Calamari as slaves, their star liners would not be converted into star cruisers. In the size of the fleet —certainly.

—Interesting conclusions, Grand Admiral,— Baron D'asta said after a pause. —You are not a human yourself. What are you talking about —your personal experiences due to harassment during your service or something else?

—Logic and nothing more,— I said. — Troubles strengthen character and allow you to objectively spend your resources to counteract them. So your hint that my point of view, contrary to the official Imperial one, is an attempt to take revenge on the Empire for some kind of tricky oppression, then you are wrong. The Empire made me who I am today. I am grateful to her for this. And it's strange to me that after everything that happened, people who are positioned by the New Order as the superior race were unable to learn from past mistakes and draw conclusions about the destructiveness of a number of their current concepts.

—Not everything,— the baron remarked laconically, looking into my eyes. —So, are you sure that the abolition of the man-centric policies of the Empire can be a positive success?

—I am confident that we should learn from our mistakes so as not to repeat them again and again,— is a diplomatic and vague answer in which everyone will find something for themselves. —That is why I believe that it is not worth continuing the war against the New Republic under current conditions. For the Empire to survive, we must change it.

—But you continue the military campaign against Coruscant,— the baron noted. —This contradicts your position on peace negotiations.

—Which peace is more stable? —I asked. — When the weak comes to an agreement with the strong, and the latter knows that the former needs peace much more than he himself? When does the strong know that he can keep pushing and eventually get everything? Or would it be more acceptable to negotiate between two parties equal in strength and political weight, where each understands that continuing the war will only lead to unnecessary casualties and discontent among the population?

—The population of the galaxy is largely apathetic to the power that rules them,— the baron noted. — Reasonable people are ready to work for anyone.

— And we return again to the experience of the emergence of the Rebel Alliance,— I noted. — The bulk of the population is indifferent to those who rule them, content with the realization of their small needs. The minority wants power and knows how to take advantage of the situation. And among them there are always those who will resist any legitimate authority to please their personal ambitions. And if they find support in the hearts of rational people tired of the devastation, a new civil war will begin. The idea that if they throw off the old government that brought them to this, install a new one, and everything will immediately become good is absurd in nature. But it works —yesterday's rebels rule the galaxy. The peoples groan from the conditions of their miserable existence, but they are ready to wait, in the hope of a bright future. And when their wait is exhausted, a new uprising will break out. And yesterday's liberators will become today's oppressors. The circle is closed. The wheel of events has made a full turn and returned to the starting point.

The Baron looked at me with a long, wary gaze. He was silent. He was thinking.

He sighed heavily.

—My daughter has informed me that the Imperial Ruling Council is considering your candidacy for the position of the new Emperor,— he said. I didn't react at all. Firstly, I already know this, and secondly, this will not happen. —Even without knowing your thoughts, they are ready to put at the head of a human-centric state... not quite a human being. If they know what you told me today, if they realize that you are not going to fight to the bitter end to return the Empire to where it all began... Ardus Kaine will become the new Emperor. And the chance to end the war and normal life will be lost.

—There are always those who cannot live except by thoughts of war,— I noted philosophically. —Even my arrival to you is dictated by military necessity.

—It was clear without words,— the baron frowned, looking away to the side. —I'm not young anymore, Grand Admiral. My life will someday come to an end. And I would like to see a calm sky above my head, and not the carcasses of orbital stations and a fleet in orbit, waiting for the New Republic to run out of patience and come. I want to see my daughter happy and I don't want her, like me, to live her whole life in war. You have come for support, Grand Admiral. I am ready to give it to you —within reasonable limits. But in return, you must promise that you will achieve peace with the New Republic.

—It's not in my power,— I remarked. among us and among them there have always been, are and will be those who want revenge in this war. Without mutual desire, there will be no agreement. All I can do is make an effort to make this happen.

—That's why you intend to press their sides in order to force them to peace,— the baron recalled my words. I just nodded affirmatively and barely noticeably. —This could take many months.

—It would be more correct to say years,— I clarified. — Imperial Space has limited my resources and I can't expect quick results. You must understand that at any moment the militaristic part of the Imperial Remnants can understand what exactly is behind my actions. And then the consequences for me and my allies will be unpredictable at best.

—Don't worry about me, Grand Admiral,— the Baron grinned. —My sector cannot be easily defeated out by any enemy. Even by the New Republic.

«And even more so by the Empire» I finished my thought for him. This man definitely knows his worth. And he understands the risk he is taking. He cannot help but understand that in moments of extreme need, the Empire and the New Republic can unite to destroy him. They have already pulled off this trick with Zsinj and his state. The second time will be even easier —each side has experience.

—It's lunch time, Grand Admiral,— the man suddenly said, looking towards his residence. —I will be glad if you join me. And after the meal we'll talk about business. I'm sure we can help each other.

A very interesting statement of the phrase. But no one hoped that the allies would not demand reciprocal services for their help. The best union is one that is connected by blood.

On the way back we were silent. Everyone thought about their own things. The Baron's thoughts are unknown to me. And for some reason I remembered the children's fairy tale «The Wizard of the Emerald City». It seems that today I took the first step towards a beautiful city in which all my problems will be solved.

If only the witch didn't eat me along the way.

***

But on the spot everything is not as good as we would like.

It seems that this area for first class passengers was reserved for clients who were especially dear to the enterprise. The safety of which was taken care of by the ship's security staff.

Otherwise, she could not have explained the reason why two colorful security officers, pumped up and with stern faces, were bored in the corridor, and with weapons in their hands.

But what bothered her the most was the presence of two supposedly bored men in expensive suits having a casual conversation in the corridor. They stood leaning against the wall of the corridor and seemed relaxed. But Mara had no problem identifying both of them with weapons for concealed carry, fastened to the inside of their jackets. And the very obvious habits of the bodyguards.

The only question is: whose people are these? Hoffner's security? Maybe. If he regularly loses huge sums in casinos, then there is an assumption that the ship's management allowed him to have security under exceptional conditions. But they are too far from number eleven-thirty-eight. This means that something is clearly wrong. If this is permanent security, then the security service should not look at them with such a tenacious gaze.

Or maybe they are protecting someone else? For example, the girl with whom Hoffner secluded himself. Or they have nothing to do with the current situation at all and their goal is in one of the rooms closest to their deployment. Bodyguards would do that... But officially hired bodyguards would not use concealed weapons. If there is an agreement with the management of this institution, it would be enough for them to carry weapons in simple operational holsters under their arms...

And this couple is clearly trying to pretend that they are simple and peaceful guests. If Mara had not seen enough of this in the past, she would not have paid any worthwhile attention to the couple.

An alarming thought stirred in the back of my mind.

These guys are not bodyguards.

They are agents. Even though they are trained professionally, their actions show negligence. Experienced spies allow themselves to do this —young and experienced employees would not stand up so that the jacket could be seen from a certain angle.

Professional negligence or...

She wanted to slap her hand in the face.

She remembered where she had seen similar dISDegard for secrecy.

CorSec Agents are the intelligence service and law enforcement agency of Corellia. Like any Corellians, the Corsecians loved fast ships, took risks, did not care about caution, and had phenomenal luck. Which, as they said, stemmed from their desire to treat all their problems in life with a large dose of stoic devil-may-care.

So, someone else needs Hoffner. Probably CorSec. For what?

The question is rhetorical. Let's take it and find out.

—We have problems,— she whispered to both operatives after walking down the corridor, pretending to be lost. Compassionate security staff explained to her that the cabin she was looking for, with the number she had come up with on the fly, was on another deck. That's what the girl was counting on —they didn't pay much attention to her stylized combat costume. After all, there wasn't a vibrating knife, thermal detonator or blaster sticking out of each pocket. Well, if a rich girl wants to walk around in a tight jumpsuit —so be it. Surely security officers have seen more than this in their lifetime. —Someone else needs Hoffner.

They talked in a small vestibule in front of the elevator. There were no cameras here, and those that were pointed in their direction did not touch anything important. Another thing is that when the elevator doors open, they will then fall into the field of view of the camera in the cabin.

—Orders? — asked one of the stormtroopers.

—Move around,— she ordered, looking at one of the assistants. —You will cut off the escape route in one direction. You,— looking towards the second fighter, —will come from this side. I'll run back down the corridor, as if running away from you. Make your face angrier,— the stormtrooper bared his teeth. —Not by that much. Okay, no time for theatrical sketches. General task: first of all, let's knock out two people in suits —they pose more danger than the security service. As soon as we get the weapon, having neutralized the targets, we move to Hoffner's cabin. We must not allow him to reach the escape capsules! Let's start now, before "Nemesis" appears —otherwise panic will begin...

She didn't have time to finish. A low hum and rumble, like the distant roar of... engines.

—They're already here,— Mara sighed. —Everyone, in place.

Hastily, but without unnecessary fuss, the first stormtroopers, which was supposed to cut off the escape route, moved towards its target. Mara, tousling her hair, rushed back down the corridor, doing her best to pretend to be the victim of a failed attack. Figuring that the first stormtroopers needed some time, she slowed down at the turn and waited ten seconds. She screamed shrilly several times.

Having turned into the desired corridor, she rushed towards a couple in expensive suits.

—Help! Please! I beg you! Help!

The men were confused for a moment, after which Mara rushed into their arms. A simple psychological calculation.

—Lady, what's going on? —one of them asked gloomily. But at that moment, a stormtrooper came out from around the corner with his face twisted with rage. That is, in its usual state. —Hey, you, what do you want from the lady?

—Gentlemen! —security officers headed towards them, with the intention of understanding the situation before clients began to become interested in what was happening. —Get away from the girl! All!

Mara noted that the second stormtroopers had already appeared behind a couple of —security guards—. Who would have thought that this guy could move so silently?

And at that moment the cruise liner seemed to shake slightly with its entire hull.

Having received confirmation from Mara with a slight nod of her head, the first stormtrooper rushed towards the suited couple. And the second attacked the security officers on their backs.

—Lady, step aside! —demanded the man in the suit, to whom the girl pressed herself —in search of protection. And he even tried to put her aside, putting his arm around her shoulders.

«Definitely a Corellian» she realized, applying a painful technique to the playful limb. The man gasped in pain, arched, following the trajectory of his hand, immediately receiving a knee blow to the face and leaning back against the wall.

The second, hearing a noise behind him, turned around, trying to take out the blaster as he went. And at that same second, the fist of the second stormtrooper struck him in the back of the head. Judging by the way the man went limp, the blow was not without great force.

The ship shook again.

The roar was heard again, this time not so distant. It looks like Nemesis has taken aim.

Mara turned around, barely able to stand on her feet. The first stormtrooper had already broken the neck of one of the guards and was fighting with the second. Mara hit the security guard in the leg with an accurate shot.

—Run! —she ordered, seeing that weapons appeared in the hands of both companions. Moreover, the one who fought with both security officers had two blasters at once.

Burning out the door lock is a matter of seconds.

The first stormtrooper kicked the door and rushed inside Hoffner's cabin. Shooting rang out. Mara flew head over heels after her, letting a line of scarlet rays pass over her.

With an unimaginable acrobatic pirouette, she left the line of fire of the enemy shooter, noticing that it was a middle-aged woman. Hiding behind the bulkhead, she waited for a moment, abruptly changed altitude, crouched down, and looked out from behind the cover at the very moment when the first stormtroopers began suppressing fire from the other end of the cabin. The woman hid. She froze for a moment, realizing the disadvantage of her position...

Mara didn't let her change her mind.

A scarlet beam of energy pierced the stranger's throat, and she collapsed to the floor.

Knowing full well that the second stormtrooper was guarding the entrance to the cabin, the red-haired beauty came out from behind her hiding place.

—Who the fuck are you?! — came a voice from somewhere under the first stormtrooper.

Mara glanced at the fighter sitting on something.

—Captain Hoffner? —she grinned.

Captain Hoffner.

—Yes,— said the man. Dark skin, short hair, expensive clothes, exquisitely trimmed facial hair. An attempt by a person of low birth to pass himself off as rich. How boring. —Who are you and what do you want from me?!

He was lying face down, and the stormtrooper's knee was pressing him from behind. Very painful, if you remember the hand-to-hand combat skills that fighters are trained on Carida. Mara herself had undergone a similar training course at one time, so she understood how difficult and painful it was for this person to move now.

—More about everything later,— the girl grinned.

At this moment, Coral Vanda shuddered again. This time the roar was accompanied by a groan of tearing and evaporating metal —the Nemesis had broken through the casing. And now the ship's crew has little choice —either to surface and give themselves up to the Empire, or to pretend to be heroes. But, as far as she understood, there were few heroes here. Hired workers in non-combat professions will not risk their skins —they are not paid that much. But the security service...

—We're getting out of here to the escape capsules,— she said. The stormtrooper silently pulled the handcuffs out of his trousers and fastened the prisoner to himself with them. Assessing the physique of Hoffner and the Stormtrooper Corps fighter, the comparison is clearly not in favor of the first.

—If you come with us, you'll stay alive,— Mara hissed in the dark-skinned man's ear. —If you decide to disobey my orders, I'll kill you on the spot. I was not paid for delivering you alive. But I'm sure you can beat this price.

—Yes of course! —said the man. —There, in the closet! Case! It contains three hundred thousand credits! I don't have any more!

—I'm sure you have something to buy your life with,— the stormtrooper did not react to her words. After all, he is from the naval special forces, a master of boarding battles, and not an intelligence operative. Little does he know that she is now morally crushing Hoffner's will in order to get as much information as possible from him.

Before leaving, the girl looked in the indicated direction and pulled out a metal case filled to the brim with cash. Thin precious plates of various denominations... And judging by the empty space, there were many more of them.

Taking a nice bonus to your work. Mara and her entourage left the cabin. Taking advantage of the panic among the passengers, diligently trying to stay on their feet after another shot from the Star Destroyer, the girl and three men moved towards the escape capsules.

***

The Nemesis' turbolasers spat out another stream of green plasma. Most of it went to evaporate the ocean over the carcass of the submarine, but they —reached— the hull.

Observing the trajectories of the shots on the holographic display, Captain Von Schneider grinned:

—Tell the artillerymen —let them use the second tower.

—Yes, sir!

A second later, eight more turbolaser beams rained down on the elongated cylindrical body of the Coral Vanda. In a couple of seconds another eight...

—Second hull penetration! —reported from the "pits".

The captain quickly glanced at the monitor. A huge amount of water is now entering the interior of a cruise ship. And very soon the casino will either float to the surface or sink.

Although, given how many rich people on board and there were more than five hundred cabins on fifteen first class decks and thirty second —they would prefer to try to escape rather than surrender to the hands of the Empire. The crew of this vessel was definitely able to identify the ship. And it is unlikely that they believe that the Republican ship is deliberately putting them on the brink of death.

— Are the landing forces in place? —he clarified.

—Six teams in transport ships are already above the surface of the ocean, waiting to surface,— came the answer. And a moment later another one:

—Sir! One escape capsule was registered on the surface. They are transmitting our identification codes! Let's decipher the code transmission... «Bird in a Cage».

—Send a ship for them,— Von Schneider ordered. This means the task is completed. —Continue firing until they surface.

—What if we drown? — the senior artilleryman asked incredulously.

—Then we'll call the stormtroopers back to the ship,— Schneider gave a logical answer. —In any case, it will look as prescribed by the Grand Admiral...

—They're floating up,— came a voice from another —pit. — The ballast is being purged.

—Well, give the stormtroopers the order to act as quickly and harshly as possible,— Schneider ordered, looking at the chronometer. They spent a good ten minutes on this vessel. Considering that rebel patrols will arrive here in three hours, we don't have much time. —But the task must be completed in any case.

Ten minutes after the Nemesis departed, two Mon Calamari star cruisers arrived with an escort. But all they could do was watch how the hulls of the cruise ship Coral Vanda and its rescue capsules, tormented by turbolaser fire, rested on the ocean floor. The Empire staged another painful raid behind New Republic lines, killing many of its wealthy citizens, including several high-ranking military personnel who were vacationing there. However, no matter how much the New Republican intelligence then fought to find out through what channels this information leaked, they did not achieve results. The Coral Vanda, raised from the bottom, could not clarify this issue —the imperial butchers destroyed all data banks before sinking the liner.

The rebels also did not know that before the destruction of all witnesses to their attack, the Imperials enriched themselves by more than two hundred million credits.