24 Chapter 23 – Live bait fishing

I wish you a pleasant reading) also I will redact everything more carefully tomorrow. [CORRECTION: REDACTED]

Nine years, five months and seventeen days after the Battle of Yavin...

Or forty-fourth year, five months and seventeen days after the Great ReSynchronization.

Tied hand and foot, the girl looked at them like a cornered animal.

—You know, Sniff,— she said in a poisonous tone, —I thought that after the story with the slaves, you couldn't fall any lower.

—I didn't choose this path,— the hijacker said, stroking the bacta patch attached to his leg. —Your father has annoyed me enough, depriving me of work and clients. So, blame only him for what is happening.

— As always, you shift the responsibility to others,— the girl spat with feeling towards the hijacker. The saliva missed the target by several centimeters, landing on the criminal's vest.

—Oh you...! —the obese man rose from his place in the control room of the Pulsar Skate, quickly approached the captive, raised his hand to strike at the daring girl...

Mirrak Terrik cowered before the inevitable, closing her eyes. A second passed, then another, but there was no blow. Only the heavy snoring of the hijacker.

The prisoner opened her eyes.

Niles Ferrier stood about half a meter away from her, with his hand raised. But he was not looking at the one who insulted him. He tried to make eye contact with a young man dressed in black armor. One of those who stormed her ship after flying away from the station, she was captured by a defel a creature capable of camouflaging in the shadows. One of the thief's henchmen.

—Well, what again? —Ferrier finally couldn't stand it. But judging by his voice, he did not at all intend to insist on his opinion on the issue of beating the captive. —She insulted me!

—Don't you dare mock the hostage,— the imperial said in a calm, quiet, commanding and authoritative voice. She had no doubt about that. She saw with what clarity and professionalism her ship was stormed. How they searched him, how they discovered and disabled the secret mechanisms of emergency beacons... Ordinary mercenaries do not need this —if their target was her or the ship. No, these are either active Imperials or renegades and Terrik Jr. very much doubted that they were interested in her ship. Or even The Killik Twilight. They clearly need something different. But what exactly, she still couldn't understand.

— As you say,— "Sniff" snorted. —You actually shot me!

—Be glad that I didn't aim a little higher,— the man in black armor answered just as calmly. Strange, but this is clearly not the armor of imperial stormtroopers, painted in a different color. Something clearly made to order... Yes, she remembered. Assault kits developed and sold on the black market. They are very popular among mercenaries who need greater protection and mobility. And they cost a lota set costs five to seven thousand. She even saw them... among some groups of mercenaries and pirates. Only which ones? Should remember...

This man is clearly the unit commander. And even though she could not see his face because of the blank helmet, the conclusion suggested itself —two guards in the same armor did not even try to stop the hijacker, continuing to guard the exit from the control room of her ship. And this one, who had been digging around in her communication system until now, reacted... I wonder why? The Imperials were never known for their manners. It is unlikely that these people had a conscience. Or are they still not Imperials?

No, these are the Imperials. Discipline, clarity of action, obvious military training... Definitely some kind of special unit. And again —what kind of sith do they want from her?

—Go to the transmitter, Ferrier,— the chief of the «blacks» ordered the hijacker. —You have three minutes. Script on panel.

—I did everything you wanted from me,— Sniff suddenly whined. —I don't want to talk to Terrik!

Soooo. But now it becomes more or less clear.

They need her father. She heard from businessmen on Nar Shaddaa that the Empire was looking for warships and paying well for them. So the Imperials want to exchange their hostage for the Errant Venture! They did it cleverly, the scoundrels. They lured her to the station under the guise of a call from a new client. They put on a performance in front of her that "Sniff" had been captured by them. They killed her crew and forced her to flee the station on the Skat-Pulsar. And as soon as she left the station, the defel attacked her as soon as she wanted to use the communication system. Mirax knew very well that there was video recording at the station where the meeting took place. This means that the moment of the attack was recorded... And anyone who watches it will know that she escaped on her ship. That she was not caught by those who were hunting Ferrier. I wonder if there were holocamers in this hangar? And if so, did they record the sound? After all, her father will certainly follow in her footsteps, make inquiries, find out where she was last seen and arrive at the station. They will give him absolutely everything — there will definitely be no one willing to contradict the enraged Terrik, who has an entire (or almost an entire) Imperial Star Destroyer in his hands.

And then what?

Her father will look for her. It's unlikely he'll tell her husband, Corran. The relationship between them is far from warm... And yet? What is the Imperials' plan? Lure your father to Bannistar Station? But this is pure stupidity —this is the territory of the New Republic (at least formally loyal to it). Even with most of the Errant Venture's weapons removed, it still poses a significant threat. And it won't cost him anything to go into hyperspace...

Unless the father is lured into a trap from where he can no longer escape on his ship. But... how do they intend to lure him somewhere, because he cannot track her starship!

Mirax wanted to curse. It's so simple! "Sniff" will now contact her father and give the coordinates of the meeting place! Where the Errant Venture will be waited by the Imperial Star Destroyer. Or maybe two. Or three. And they'll bring in some other interdictor cruiser. That's all.

She was interrupted from her thoughts by a beep coming from the communication panel. A short beep from the system, indicating that the outgoing call was going through the relay network to find her father. Not everyone can afford a direct call with the Errant Venture. Booster Terrik made sure that the signal, even from those closest to him, passed through hundreds of repeaters throughout the Outer Rim, where the ship had been hiding ever since information about the Imperial search for combat starships appeared on the HoloNet. Who else but Terrik Sr. knows where to find a suitable hole where even in its best years the Empire was afraid to stick its nose?

—I apologize for the inconvenience,— the voice of the same commander of the black soldiers brought her out of her thoughts. He crouched in front of her and deftly placed a strip of special fabric on her head. The girl didn't even try to resist, knowing full well that it was a gag. Which slave traders use on their victims. Probably the idea of ​​"Sniff" so that she would not utter a sound during a conversation with her father. But what kind of polite imperial did he get into, huh?

After the gag was on the lower part of her face, and a mechanism was activated on the back of her head, tightening the fabric so that she could not even move her lips, the gallant Imperial lifted her to her feet and handed her over to the hands of two guards. They, without a single sound, led her out of the control room into a short corridor behind the control room. And they stopped. Um... For what? After all, she could see and... hear everything perfectly from here.

The Imperials want her to watch as her father is lured into an ambush! Scoundrels! Now there is definitely no doubt these are Imperials. Surely their intelligence —they are sick in the head with all this subtle manipulation and multi-stage operations. True, most of these operations are compromised due to their complexity. So, there is a chance... The only pity is that holographic projectors capture only half a meter of space near them. If her father had seen that she was on the Scat Pulsar, he would have realized that it was all a trap. Or if the commander of a detachment of black stormtroopers had gotten at least a little into the projection zone... But no, he stubbornly stays outside the communication panel. Clearly tech savvy.

Mirax sighed. And he would still rush to rescue her.

—What's the matter, daughter... the miniature hologram of a loving father stopped short when he saw Ferrier's face in front of him instead of Terrik Jr.

—"Sniff"? —the father roared. —What kind of Hutt are you doing on board the Pulsar Skat?! The rancor stripped you, what did I tell you?! Get close to my girl and you're dead!

—Booster,— Niles' voice for some reason acquired not a plaintive, not a pleading, not a triumphant tone, but... a worried tone. You bastard!? Well, now it's clear why this whole performance at the station was started?! —Listen to me!

—I'll break your neck, Sniff, if something happens to my girl,— Terrik Sr. promised.

—Listen to me, finally! —the hijacker squealed. —I have absolutely nothing to do with it!

—How did you end up on my daughter's ship? —Terrik Sr. barked. —Call her here and get off the Stingray!

—Yes, your daughter is not on this ship! —Ferrier gulped just like a child. —I found him abandoned at the coordinates that your daughter gave me for the meeting!

—Why would Mirax meet with such scum like you, Ferrier?! —the miniature giant with an artificial gaze growled threateningly.

— After you took me for a ride with the deal, my employer decided to come to an agreement with you, giving me my head in exchange for the resources they needed,— the hijacker quickly spoke. So... how cleverly he avoided mentioning the Empire. And apparently, he had already turned to his father for help, but he sent him on a long interstellar journey. And then this worm came to her... So who did he steal this painting from? The Imperials or someone else? It was naive to believe in his fairy tale then in the hangar. And it's even more naive to believe in it now. He's lying. He lied to his father, he lied to her, and now he continues to lie. Scoundrel! —I ran away, taking some antiques from them. Contacted Mirax to sell it. Unlike you, your daughter understands when you can make money and does not pretend to be an offended chastity...

"Sniff" Booster said in a calm, but no less threatening tone. —If you mention my daughter's name again, I'll throw you into the reactor. Tell me where she is!

—During the deal, we were attacked by mercenaries,— said the hijacker. —Her co-pilot and droid were killed. I was shot and captured, she ran away with the goods on her Pulsar Skat. My guys freed me on the way to the bounty hunters' ship. I left Bannistar and contacted Mirax. She sent me these coordinates. But when I arrived here an hour ago, the Skat-Pulsar was drifting in space. No sign of Mirax. I don't know what happened. Whether she abandoned the ship herself to hide her tracks, or she was taken, the ship is turned inside out and will not fly anywhere. Mine is also damaged. You're the only one who gives a damn about me in this situation. That's why I'm calling you from her ship. If you had called yourself, you would have sent me...

—Coordinates! —Terrik growled. and pray that everything will be exactly as you said. Otherwise I'll skin you three times!

—Yes, I want to help you! — "Sniff" almost sobbed. —I have huge debts. My latest employers want their buzz droids. They're hunting me everywhere!

—Because you are the most vile and dishonest guy I've ever dealt with,— Terrik snorted. Mirak understood that judging by the fact that her father had lowered the overtones of his voice, he turned on his head and stopped giving in to emotions. —I don't even need to guess that you, Hutt burp, intend to find benefit for yourself even in this situation. Only you guessed right Hutt! I'll buy my girl another boat! And I'll contact the Imperials to exchange it for the junk they need. And you, however, as always, will be in flight...

—No, Terrik,— regret was heard in "Sniff"'s— voice. So well acted that it was almost believable. —This is not the Empire...

—What?! —the owner of the Errant Venture barked.

—What I heard! —"Sniff" squealed. these are the Invids, you wild rancor! The Invids are hunting me!

—How did you manage to contact these scumbags?! —If she could, she would certainly open her mouth in surprise. Pirate group "Invids"? Are these in black "Invids"?! Some of the most daring and bloodthirsty bastards in the Mid-Rim?!

Terrik Jr. turned her gaze to her escorts. But for sure... she saw the fighters of their group in such armor on Nal Hutta. Elite fighters... But armor doesn't mean anything! You can easily buy it! However, it is now clear why she believed that her jailers were Imperials. The Invids have an entire Star Destroyer at their disposal. With all his crew and weapons, he went over to the side of his pirate queen. It is not surprising that among them there are professionals in boarding and capturing prisoners. They strike throughout the Mid-Rim, leaving behind no witnesses or traces. How targets are found is not clear. They don't seem to be collaborating with anyone...

— Who, in your professional opinion, needs buzz droids? —Ferrier asked, almost crying. Mirax felt how this man was becoming simply disgusting to her. — While the Empire is pinching the New Republic, the "Invids" are destroying the latter's convoys. It looks like they decided to raid the Zann Consortium as well. Or they want to use their tactics with buzz droids. Or something else. Booster, I don't know! I'm small fry! I get paid, I work!

—I would like to know how you got away from them,— my father seemed to be beginning to guess.

—I'm not a fool, Terrik,— the hijacker said with resentment in his voice. — Contacted them on the agreed frequency. I gave them information from you...

—Did he even say that I offered them droids in exchange for your head? —It seems there is still something to surprise my father.

—Of course not! Ferrier shook his head. Mirax bit her lip until it hurt. She tried to jerk, but one of the guards immediately twisted her arm, twisting her wrist so that she almost burst into tears from the pain, falling to her knees. Scoundrels! — But they knew everything, Booster! All! You have a rat somewhere...

—Or there's a bug on your ship, "Sniff" said Booster. By the fact that her father was no longer growling in anger, he was imbued with the situation. He believed him! Terrik Jr. felt tears running down her cheeks. How she hopes that her husband's father-in-law will not be blinded by feelings in order not to heed the voice of reason and not understand that this is all one big deception! and how did you steal their value from the Invids if you didn't meet them in person?

The hijacker pretended to be debating whether to tell the smuggler the truth or not. If it weren't for the whole situation, he could have been advised to enroll in acting courses! Scoundrel!

—I stole antiques from them before I received the assignment,— he said with a sigh. Terrik cursed dirtyly. Mirax, who had heard a lot from her father, was amazed at the beauty and harmony of the lexical series that described all the beauty of the vacuum inside the hijacker's skull.

—Get rid of the bug,— Terrik ordered. —Search the ship from top to bottom before I arrive.

Mirax clenched her teeth. No, dad, please! No!

—I thought about that too,— Ferrier said with a tight smile. —That's why I got rid of the old spaceship as soon as I realized that they would rather cut off my head than lose theirs. And with the last money he made another deal and stole another boat. But he was shot too! The reactor had to be shut down. If you allow me, I will take spare parts from the Pulsar Skat...

—Just try to put at least one part from my daughter's ship on your pathetic bucket! —Terrik Sr. growled. — I'm waiting for the coordinates.

—No, Booster,— Ferrier was stubborn. —I'm completely screwed and I have nothing to lose. I don't know where the antiques stolen from the "Invids" are now, but buzz droids are my way of either shaking them off my trail or paying off for a while.

—Okay,— said the owner of the Errant Venture reluctantly. —I'll bring you buzz droids for... what amount do you say? Five? Seven million?

—No, Terrik,— even from the corridor it was clear that "Sniff"'s— eyes sparkled. —You were talking about twenty million worth of buzz droids! I need them all without exception!

—You won't miss yours, Sniff,— Booster said approvingly. —There will be buzz droids for you. Twenty million. I'll bring everything I have a little more than five hundred units. You will take it out yourself. And now... COORDINATES!

—Okay, Booster,— Ferrier pretended to be looking for something on the instrument panel. Then, returning to the holoprojector, he dictated.

—It's clear. —said Terrik Sr. —I'm not that far away. Wait for me in five days. And just try to dismantle the «Scat-Pulsar» or run away —I'll skin you, you son of a bitch! This time —for real.

When the hologram went out, the commander of the black specialists stood up, patting the hijacker who had collapsed in a chair on the shoulder.

—The job is done, Mr. Ferrier,— looking at the girl, scorching everyone present with a hateful gaze that could heat a vacuum, he commanded:

— The fleet arrives at the given point. Prepare it for transportation...

The blow to the head brought her a sea of ​​pain and sent her into oblivion. The last thing she managed to notice was how the blackness of the vacuum behind the cockpit of the Pulsar Skat was torn apart by the appearance of a ship with a wedge-shapesd hull well known throughout the galaxy.

But before she could pass out, she felt her body experience an ocean of pain.

***

—Too long, Grand Admiral,— Joruus C'baoth said, sitting in front of me, like a capricious child. —You could have captured the Jedi long ago and delivered him to me!

You don't need to have the Force to understand that after these words, Mara Jade, sitting in the corner of my office, hidden by the darkness of the muted light and the cage with the ysalamiri, already pricked up her ears. No matter how she demonstrates her humility, she continues to collect information. Nothing critical to my plans, just scattered pieces of data. To compare them you will have to work hard.

—We've already discussed this, Master,— I say calmly, looking into the madman's eyes without fear. and you admitted that I was right last time.

—But this time I don't recognize her! — the Jedi clone continued to grumble. —Even masters can make mistakes!

—In that case, what remains for us, simple reasonable ones? — I asked a rhetorical question.

—You continue to lead me by the nose, Grand Admiral! — the old man once again grabbed his medallion. A wave of relaxation seemed to run across my face. —You want me to continue to help you, but at the same time you don't want to do the same for me and the Jedi Order in return!

—So I understand that you are not going to argue your point of view? — I asked, looking at the monitor screen. New reports have arrived from Delta Source . Time should again be devoted to studying them in a timely manner. There is no doubt that one day the New Republic will be able to find this eAvesdropping system. And then the direct channel of information transmission directly from the heart of Coruscant will be interrupted. I should have used the head start I had to its full potential. But again, sometimes the ingenious recording device sent only streams of information that was meaningless from a strategic and tactical point of view. Rumors, gossip, empty talk of Senate employees. All this, without a doubt, can be used if you need to blackmail any of the senators. But at the moment I was more interested in what related to the humanitarian and military supplies of the New Republic. Several such convoys have already been intercepted by Yazuo Vayne's corsairs and now they are escorting the ships to the base to divide the spoils. But even more transportation remains unknown to us —not all official information is discussed by Republican senators and military officers in the corridors. It's a pity. But we have to admit that the enemy takes the issue of information security very seriously. Of those conversations whose recordings were obtained, only senators, their assistants, and various employees —chatter. The military rarely exchange opinions on issues of changing the deployment of their forces, or on more important aspects of their activities. Immediately after the attack on the Dafilvean sector, they did not stop talking for a week, agitated by what had happened. And this made it possible to isolate several caravans and set privateers against them. But the longer no major raids took place, the more the enemy calmed down. Well, good. So be it. Soon, all Star Destroyers will be operational, fully equipped with crews and equipment and then we will begin another campaign of intimidation. At the same time, by this time the first heavy cruisers of the dreadnought type from the Katana fleet should enter service. All combat-ready star destroyers with a load of spare parts, technical teams and a caravan with supplies have already moved to the coordinates received from Captain Hoffner. It will soon become clear exactly how our affairs stand. The former smuggler himself is still at the base in case of unforeseen circumstances. If the ship sent ahead of the main forces does not get in touch and does not report the situation, we will know that Hoffner has betrayed us. And the fleet will stop its advance towards the goal. And the interrogators will attack Comrade Karrde with triple force.

—I don't need to reason with her! — C'baoth flushed. —The Force itself tells me this!

—Is that so? — I look at him studyingly. And interested. —So you have learned to bypass the abilities of the Ysalamiri, dear master?

We stare at each other for a few seconds. And after that, the clone gives up, looking away.

—I'm getting tired of waiting, Grand Admiral! —he grumbled. -You promised me a Jedi...

—I promised you assistance in finding them,— I had to remind the old man of what our agreements were actually based on. — I offered you resources to find them, but you were unable to realize the opportunity given to you. They didn't even try. I took up the matter. And the plan will be implemented as I please. And nothing else. Please don't forget this.

On the one hand, it seems —why do I need this madman? It seems that his need has already disappeared, because from his search for the Jedi there are more problems than a positive outcome. And yet, this is not true. I need him. Needed for now.

—The figures are arranged, dear master,— I said, skimming the line of the report from the naval intelligence operatives. —We've taken our steps, now it's up to you.

—In what sense does this mean? — C'baoth narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

—In the simplest way,— I said, leaning back in my chair and stroking Ysalamiri, who was sitting comfortably on my lap. —I was just informed that a suitable planet has been selected for you. Quite far from inhabited worlds, a small settlement in a flourishing corner. A very prosaic place to comfortably get lost from the entire galaxy. The very place where you will summon Corran Horn.

—Is that so? —The cloned Jedi said embarrassedly. —I... I...

—You don't have to thank me,— I said. — The planet has been found, rumors about your return are spreading. What Corran Horn values ​​most in the world is in our hands. The bait is there all you have to do is call.

—I can't do this from hyperspace,— the clone said suddenly. Anxiety and confusion splashes in his eyes. As if he is looking for a trap in my words. Right. Because that's how it is. But he just doesn't understand or realize this.

I'm not really interested in Joruus C'baoth's success in restoring the Jedi Order. Anyone —but not him. From the situation with the Horns, I am interested in completely different perspectives. It just so happened that the opportunity arose to manipulate C'baoth's desire to get a Jedi for himself and achieve my own goal. Once I have the Errant Venture in my hands, I don't care at all whether Horn survives the encounter with the mad Jedi, whether he is kept alive, or whether everything goes downhill and the clone himself suffers a sad fate.

A multi-level trap is set and waiting for the moment when it needs to be triggered.

—Let's assume,— I agreed. To be honest, I don't need this right now. We have a stop ahead in order to lift a special cargo on board on Tangrene and move towards the desired star system. But information about the limits of a clone's capabilities will never be superfluous. If he can't do this even to lure his beloved Jedi, then he really can't establish mental contact with anyone outside the ship while moving in hyperspace. Fine. Useful observation. —In that case, you will have the opportunity to do this as soon as we leave hyperspace.

—Yes, yes, of course,— the clone's eyes sparkled greedily. —I studied his appearance well. I can find him and call him...

— As you wish, Master,— I said indifferently. —Still, Horn is your future student. I don't care about him,— the cloned Jedi looked at me with surprise and suspicion. Yes, he may be crazy, but sometimes he is very, very smart. Don't forget about this. —We will take you to a planet that is ideal to begin training new Jedi as you see them. However, since you cannot invite your student there directly using your Jedi abilities, I will have to use a number of my own powers to speed up the arrival of your future student to you.

—I will be extremely grateful to you for such an attitude towards my needs,— the madman muttered.

—I will ask you to take part in another operation,— I continue, ignoring his surprised and angry look. —It is necessary to deprive Corran Horn of the heavy support from his relatives. You understand —if you contacted Horn now, he would react instantly. The result is a hitch. My own plans are being thwarted. I ask for your help.

—Only if it doesn't take much time, Grand Admiral! —C'baoth hissed.

—The operation will take exactly as long as necessary,— I said. Seeing the unnatural gleam of madness in C'baoth's eyes, I add:

—You will arrive at the site much earlier than Horn. Much earlier. According to my information, he should arrive at Sluis Van only in four hours. We'll be at our goal in three and a half. While loading supplies, you will be able to contact Horn to invite him to your training. He will need two, at most three days to digest the information, find out the necessary information and make a decision —either to leave the Rogue Squadron and go on a search, or to try to reason with his command about granting leave. Another week or two to search for the necessary information and he will come to you. The more he remains in hopelessness and in the absence of information, the faster he will agree to meet with you and understand that only you can help him. During this time, with your help, we will carry out our operation, after which you will be left to your own devices on the planet of your choice.

—Be careful, Grand Admiral,— the cloned Jedi sternly knitted his shaggy eyebrows. —Even without the Force, I can recognize the falsehood in your words.

—In that case, can you tell me without any problems what exactly it is? —I asked.

The old madman gave me a wary look, full of discontent. But he didn't say anything. Because he knew nothing and suspected nothing. The manic desire to have a Jedi at his disposal forced him to lower his vigilance. Specific promises calmed him down, tempting him again and again to inflame his desire to rule and dominate. As the last surviving Jedi, and even with such heredity as C'baoth, the clone simply could not disagree. He was well aware —consciously or unconsciously —of his helplessness in this situation. He understood that he had little choice —he would either help and get what he deserved, or he would be left with nothing. And hardly alive.

Yes, I need him —to a certain extent. But even without him I can accomplish what I have in mind. It just takes a little more time and resources. He is a dangerous ally. And there is nothing easier than bringing them all together in a spider jar.

—I agree, Grand Admiral,— he finally said. —But I warn you, if the wait drags on, you will bitterly regret it!

—I have no desire to experience the wrath of the Jedi Master; it's time to play along with the madman, to convince him that even such powerful sentients as the Supreme Commander of the Empire can fear him. An inflated ego should continue to be inflated beyond measure. Like a balloon, it will burst one day. —You know that I need you. And you need me. Contact Corran Horn as soon as we arrive in Tangrene's orbit. Give him vague hints. Let him think with his head. Let him find some answers himself. The more his logical conclusions, coupled with emotions, lean in your favor, the more willingly he will begin his training.

—Don't teach me how to raise Jedi, Grand Admiral! —C'baoth's clone rumbled hysterically, jumping up from his seat. His gray hair and beard flew up like snakes on the head of Medusa the Gorgon. But they fell immediately, because it was just the wind. Just an old man filled with impotent irritation, whose madness and emotions I intend to continue to play on. One of those dangerous assets at my disposal that would be better to part with as soon as there is no longer any need for it. C'baoth is undoubtedly adept at coordinating military operations using the Force. But he is dangerous. And his madness at one time in the events known to me disrupted many of the operations of the original Thrawn. -You have no sensitivity to the Force! I am the only one, you hear — ONLY! Only I can properly raise a new generation of Jedi!

— Those who are higher than other sentient beings because they are sensitive to the Force? — I calmly clarified, not taking my gaze off C'baoth. He, as always, when he met calm and authoritative resistance, shivered, deflating like a balloon.

— And because they are my students,— he said more quietly. —I know what power is. Just me. Neither you nor Palpatine. Only I know what real power is...

—Nobody disputes your point of view,— I said. —We still have a few hours before arriving at the base, Master. I'll ask you to come to the infirmary.

—For what? —He looked at me suspiciously.

—There are pathogenic allergens on the planet where we intend to send you,— I said, not caring at all that C'baoth and Jade would be able to recognize the lie. — Corran Horne has the required vaccination category against most pathogens in the galaxy —like most of the sentient beings in the galaxy. We want to make sure that you have them too. Your blood will be taken for analysis. If you have the necessary vaccinations, that's great. If not... As I already said, the Empire is helping to restore the Jedi Order. I don't think either you or I want Corran Horn, who has flown in to train you, to find you bedridden with some local fever.

The clone thought about my words for a while. Any sentient will understand that this is a hoax. But from the point of view of a madman...

—You're right, Grand Admiral,— the madman grabbed his medallion. —I must be absolutely healthy for my legacy to appear.

Without saying goodbye, he silently, like a shadow, left my cabin. Leaving me alone.

Well, almost alone.

—He's mad,— Mara Jade said, emerging from a dark corner of the apartment. Even the dim light was enough to understand that the girl was disgusted by what she had just witnessed.

— Did you have any doubts that I was right? — I clarified, plunging into the study of reports from Coruscant. The red-haired Hand, casting a disgusted glance at the chair in which the clone had just been sitting, decisively pushed it aside with her foot and sank into another.

—No, but... she looked at me. I looked up from reading the report about the flight of the commander of the Republican intelligence, General Cracken, to Sluis Van. As planned, the New Republic began cleaning up. —See it with your own eyes...

The subtext is clear without words. Until now, she did not fully believe what I told her about the madness of the cloned Palpatine. Now she has seen with her own eyes the results of cloning experiments. And to put it mildly, I'm not impressed. On the contrary, what I told her became more real. She, consciously or not, is now taking on the image of C'baoth's clone on Palpatine. Slowly but surely he realizes how dangerous he will be.

Actually, this is what everything was designed for. You just need to push it a little further. Show C'baoth's true madness. And then she will no longer have any doubts that I am right. After this operation, it will be possible to visit Mount Tantiss and solve the problem of the Hand with Palpatine's last order. After this, it will be possible to direct her to independent tasks. Of which I have accumulated a fair amount for her.

And without Horn's call through the Force, the Corellian might have found a way to where we planned to land Joruus C'baoth. Scouts who were not successful in finding "miners" sought to rehabilitate themselves in another field. Rumors spread through HoloNet are full of necessary information. Exactly to the extent that they may seem like conjectures that deserve trust. If you give an experienced detective all the necessary information at once, he will never believe it. Will look for a double bottom. And I'm sure he will find it.

Therefore, I did not lie in my conversation with C'baoth —Horn needs to find some answers himself. Only when he realizes his inner sense of searching and analyzing information will he be able to follow the path prepared for him. Well, and then... It will be clear later.

—Entrusting him with raising the Jedi is wrong,— Mara Jade said. —He will raise monsters by taking advantage of their immaturity. He will cloud our minds just as Palpatine did to me.

and yet, our crazy clone must play a role in the formation of the Jedi Order. —That's why Joruus C'baoth is dealing with Corran Horn,— I said. —CorSeza officer, rebel, member of Rogue Squadron, hereditary Jedi, healthy paranoid, a man who was not broken by the dungeons of Lusankya and all the treachery of Isanne Isard,— I said. a meeting with C'baoth will be nothing more than a waste of time for Horn. But useful. Both for us and for him.

Jade was silent for a while, looking at me with her emerald eyes narrowed. I continued to read information from Delta Source . Hmm... There is something useful. Senators discussed issues of strengthening convoys. Due to escort ships. Presumably. You could even say that they took too long with this. Now this is interesting... Several Senate employees share information with each other that their employers —senators are beginning to doubt Ackbar's loyalty. They say that it was precisely because of his agreement to disarm the ships that an attack on the Dafilvean sector and the defeat of the group there became possible. Interesting. Promising. Especially when you consider the fact that there are listings of sectoral fleets where some of the Mon Calamari star cruisers are planned to be returned to ensure stability. First of all, because of the attack on Pantolomin —in the First Fleet, covering Coruscant and the Central Worlds. Helpful information.

— Are you sure that C'baoth will not be able to infect Horn with his madness? That's not even a question. Statement of fact. I looked up from contemplating the information on the screen and looked at the girl.

—Yes, I'm sure,— I said calmly.

—Why not Skywalker? she asked. after all, he is a trained Jedi knight. If the goal of this game of Jedi was to get rid of C'baoth, then he would be the perfect person to do it.

How interesting. She talks about eliminating C'baoth, but does not offer herself. Why? Because he understands that to simply eliminate the mad clone, I wouldn't need a Jedi —just a cage with Ysalamiri and a blaster? Or is it because she's afraid he might get into her head? I'm sure it's the second. That's why she doesn't even try to suggest using a madman to rid her of Palpatine's legacy. He understands perfectly well that letting such a person... such a creature into his mind is incredibly stupid and dangerous.

—I need Skywalker for something else,— I said.

—To get rid of the resurrected Palpatine? —nothing more than a lucky guess.

—Including,— I agreed. —However, no matter how strong the offspring of Darth Vader is now, there is no certainty that a boy who grew up on Tatooine and did not experience any significant hardships until recently could recognize the true background of C'baoth without the help of others and in events known to me, it was Mara Jade who gave him this idea when she came for him during Skywalker's brief training with C'baoth. Until then, Skywalker tried in every possible way to realize his unfinished gestalt with the salvation of the fallen Jedi and his return to the Light Side of the Force without death. And since Mara Jade is under my command, and I have no desire to bring them together with Skywalker without unnecessary necessity, the options for the development of events are practically impossible to predict. — Moreover, as it was correctly noted, C'baoth should under no circumstances be allowed near children. And Skywalker has a sister.

—Leia Organa Solo,— Mara Jade nodded. — Pregnant with Han Solo's twins.

—Whether the children will be Jedi or not, only time will tell,— I said. — But if children are still sensitive to the Force, if they are as powerful as Darth Vader himself or Luke Skywalker... The idea of ​​getting two powerful people obsessed with the idea of «true» power, which involves the complete subordination of intelligent Jedi, frankly does not seem promising to me .

—So,— Jade squinted. —The transfer of Horn to C'Baoth is nothing more than a game.

I nodded affirmatively. Very promising. Especially considering the fact that I intend to keep Horn in C'baoth's company for as long as possible. The depth of madness must be understood as accurately as possible by the Republic Jedi. As I said, Joruus C'baoth will play a role in the restoration of the Jedi Order. The weakening of Palpatine's future opponents on one front should be offset by an accelerated understanding of the problem of the New Republic's lack of Jedi on the other. C'Baoth showed me how effective the Jedi could be in the military. Now it's time to pitch the idea of ​​restoring the Order to those who can directly resolve this issue. Luke Skywalker, for example. He's still on Sluis Van. A dangerous game of "Jedi", indeed. Having the Jensaarai on my side is an advantage. Because no matter how hard Skywalker tries, even if he starts teaching the Jedi everything he knows, now or in a month, or whenever, he will not prepare worthy opponents for Palpatine and his minions. Vice versa. Our Jedi will be excluded from global politics and military campaigns for a long time, first searching for and then training Jedi. Which Palpatine will either destroy or lure to his side. Luke himself will inevitably end up next to Palpatine. There is no big doubt that, like his father, he will return to the teachings of the Jedi, and the Skywalker and Solo family will defeat Palpatine. Plot armor, so to speak. Surely it will work this time too. If not... The Mau Cluster contains in its depths the ultimate solution to the problem of the population of entire planets. Just a joke, of course. No matter how Skywalker buries himself into the Dark Side, his sister and friends will always pull him out of this abyss. And the New Republic will have its own Jedi. Whether they fell to Palpatine's side in the years to come or not, they will always be there. And their presence gives the New Republic a basis for hegemony in the galaxy. I don't like this balance of power at all —it spoils the possibility of concluding a truce.

Well, I'm sure that after the Terrik family plays their roles, some of the Jensaarai will accept my offer. And unlike the New Republic, I will have trained Force users. Which can be strengthened if you delve into your memory and remember where in this galaxy you can find holocrons or something similar.

Well, and Skywalker... In the end, it doesn't matter at all whether Skywalker kills his fallen students or goes into exile —he will cease to be a hindrance in future plans. But I am sure that the young Jedi will not give up. In many ways he is the voice of reason. And if so, then through all the tests he has passed, he will be tempered. And he will look at things more sensibly. It will be... quite funny if it is the Republican Jedi who lobby for the interests of the peace treaty and the Empire. My Empire.

—You're taking not only C'baoth out of the campaign, but Horn himself,— she said. — Weaken the Rogue Squadron...

—Whether Horn goes on vacation to search for his wife, or deserts, we will use this information for our own purposes,— I said. —The New Republic loves heroes who sacrifice everything to save the innocent. Rogue Squadron is one of our enemy's most highly publicized units. They had already carried out a campaign campaign after our raid on the Dafilvean sector, where they assured the locals that we would never attack again, that from now on they were under reliable protection. For the same purpose, they are moving to the Sluissi sector. As soon as information reaches Horn about the disappearance of his wife,— Mara raised her eyebrow subtly, —he will certainly make attempts to find her. He's a Corellian, he's a Jedi. And this is actually a diagnosis and an extremely predictable mixture. He will follow the trail and find C'baoth.

—But not your wife,— Jade noted.

—His wife will play her part,— I noted. —Even a few. An interesting fact is that Horn's wife is the daughter of Booster Terrik, who owns a Star Destroyer. But she is also practically the sister of Wedge Antilles, the commander of Rogue Squadron. It is unlikely that Antilles will leave his post with Horn in search of his wife, but circumstances will develop in such a way that Antilles will have something to do, torn between duty and family ties.

and as soon as Rogue Squadron loses one or two of its pilots, this fact will be used against the New Republic,— Mara Jade nodded understandingly. I did not consider it necessary to answer. The smart woman figured out two-thirds of the plan. Which already speaks directly to the fact that she is damn smart and cunning. —I take my words back, Grand Admiral.

—Which ones exactly? —I asked.

—During our conversation on Tangrene, I said that traveling to the Unknown Regions has changed you for the worse,— she said. —I was mistaken. You have become even more cunning and sophisticated in your ability to manipulate your opponent.

—Thank you for your flattering assessment of my abilities, Mara Jade,— I replied. — You will lead the boarding of the Errant Venture.

— Booster Terrik's ship? —she clarified. —He's a good friend of Karrde's.

—Does this bother you? —I asked. I don't need a battle of loyalties within one cunning and smart person. Of course, we won't be able to kill all members of Booster Terrik's crew. Some of them will be captured —including Corran Horne's father-in-law himself. And when they gain freedom, Terrik will have many questions for Karrda. Which will begin with interest in how it happened that his former henchman ended up on the side of the Empire and took Terrik's ship away from him. If by that time "Claw" begins to crush Terrik's business, then the friendly tandem will crack. I don't know for sure, but I guess that in the environment in which they both rotate, such information will spread quite widely. And when Karrda needs help from the other smugglers, they will think three times before nobly answering such a call. Paranoia and suspicion always go hand in hand among illegal dealers.

—I don't care at all,— Jade replied. —But if we remove Terrik from his niche of the information space for a long time or for good, then... someone will pick up his illegal or partially legal business, right?

—The most obvious candidate for this would be Karrde,— I said, looking at another message that opened on the screen. I ran through the squiggles of the codebreaker's work... —Moreover, according to the report of Leia Organa-Solo, Karrde, during a meeting with her on the planet Filwe, indicated his interest in participating in trade transportation for the New Republic.

—Personally? —Jade was surprised.

—No,— I answered, having read the report to the end. —He promised his assistance to the New Republic in creating the necessary interest among smugglers. However, I am sure that one way or another, he will take part in this business. Cargo transportation is an excellent occasion for collecting information. And collecting the latter is his main business.

—It looks like Talon is inevitably choosing its side,— Jade narrowed her eyes. I wonder how she will react if right now you look at her reproachfully and ask: —But I warned you? But these are just children's jokes. You shouldn't humiliate your ally like that. As with Horn, she needs to figure out some things on her own. The more conclusions I need Mara Jade to make using her own inferences, the less questions and mistrust she will have about what she cannot verify in the future. An unwritten rule in Russian statistics: a half-truth is better than a lie.

—We will monitor the situation,— I said. —Karrde and his organization going over to the side of the New Republic is a worrying sign for us. He has too many connections in the Empire and this could Hast our own plans. Before facing such an enemy, you should protect your rear from the intrusive influence of his agents.

—You cannot trust the Imperial Security Service or Imperial Intelligence,— Mara Jade continued her thought. —Should I do this?

—No,— I handed her the information chip. The girl obediently took it in her hands. —Before the operation against Booster Terrik begins, I would like this chip to contain the very code that allows you to enter the central computer of an imperial starship without attracting attention.

The empty storage device swayed barely noticeably in her fingers. He lay down carefully on the table. The girl looked up at me with her green eyes, like the purest emeralds.

—Now it's clear why on the Nemesis I was deprived of the opportunity to access the ship's information environment,— she grinned. Her hand rested on one of the many pockets of her overalls. The sound of a zipper being unzipped was heard. —I kept wondering when I would be asked this question.

An information chip lay on the table in front of me. Unlike the one I gave to the girl, judging by the indicator, this one had data. A lot of data.

all those secrets about the Imperial Navy that Palpatine told me during my work for him,— she said, nudging the chip with her index finger in my direction.

Looking the girl straight in the eyes, he nodded barely noticeably. The girl is really worth putting on a whole performance for her sake. What she saw and heard today was enough to share with me secrets that were known either only to her or only to the Hands of Palpatine. It costs a lot. At the very least, the fact that she began to trust me proves it. But this is not loyalty yet. After completing the current operation, it will be clear whether she is ready to continue to the very end.

—Thank you, Mara Jade,— I said, pulling the chip towards me. —You saved me several days of work.

—More like months, or even years,— she smiled. —I hope this is enough to give me at least some data for future missions?

—Of course,— I agreed. Turning to the computer, he transferred the information for her to the unclaimed chip. after visiting Mount Tantiss and fixing the problems, investigating this incident will be your goal.

—Is that so? — Mara looked at me interestedly. and what is it?

—Super Star Destroyer Guardian,— she even shuddered. Barely noticeable, but still. Quite quickly I pictured in my head what Thrawn could do... No, not like that. What can I do, the name is at the disposal of the «sistership» of the «Executor».

—I heard that it was destroyed,— she noted.

—The galaxy is full of rumors and speculation,— I confirmed. —I hope you don't believe in them. Because this ship survived. And I need him.

***

There are many pleasant, even soul-stirring moments in the life of an X-wing pilot. A combat mission, for example, when you engage in an attack with Imperial pilots. And only your reaction, the strength of your shields and your piloting skill decide whether you will win or remain in the vacuum in the form of several hundred or thousands of fragments.

Many who are ignorant in this matter believe that TIE fighters in service with the Empire and its remnants are completely inferior to X-wings, Ashkas and other equipment in service with the New Republic. Well, except that the "wishbones" are still... useless. But they try not to tell the wishbone pilots about this. "wishbones" are the pain of everyone who managed to fly on them and return from a mission alive. But their pilots will never admit it. Not because it's embarrassing. But because everyone who gets on the "wishbone" is firmly convinced that this is an excellent machine capable of destroying its opponent without any problems. And they cite certain cases as arguments...

In fact, pilots of "wishbones" are well aware that they are hopelessly behind the times. This is what the Ashki pilots think, rushing through space at breakneck speeds and looking down on everyone else. Ashek pilots are a separate pain. Ashek pilots need to hit them in the teeth first, and therefore start dialogues with them. This is a well-known but carefully hidden truth.

Lately, Ashkas rarely fly long distances anywhere except in starship hangars. Got lazy.

But the X-wing pilots are quite happy with their car. How many ashkas— or "wishbones" took part in the attack on the Death Stars? How many of them dealt the fatal blow? That's it. The X-wing is the draft animal of the entire New Republic fleet. Therefore, no matter how much politicians praise new types of fighters or interceptors, "X-wings" were, are and will be. In one form or another.

Hearing the message from his astromech, Whistler, Corran Horn reluctantly shivered in the seat of his vehicle.

Everything about X-Wings is great —especially the balance between speed, weapons and protection. That is why "X-wings" often participate in certain combat missions. And they almost always emerge victorious.

And in light of this, it becomes unclear...

— Why couldn't they make the seat in the fighter plane softer!? —Corran muttered, for the umpteenth time, opening his eyelids. My back, as always happens in such situations, became numb. And gave truly magnificent moments after waking up. If you don't believe me, try flying across half the galaxy over and over again for several days locked in the cockpit of your X-wing without the opportunity to stretch your arms or legs. Not to mention banal human needs.

Because, despite all the positive aspects of serving as an X-wing pilot, there are also disadvantages.

Firstly, you often have to while away your time in ambushes throughout the galaxy. Pirates, imperial underdogs, pirates again, some particularly daring and armed insolent people who do not want to obey the law... The list of reasons why an X-wing in the company of its squadron mates can end up in an ambush is almost endless. And it's sad. Well, why can't one or two Mon Calamari star cruisers be recalled from their useless transportation throughout the galaxy and not be given a normal ship to accompany the whole princess, and not twelve "X-wings"?

Yes, in the difficult fate of an X-wing pilot, especially if you have a neat Rogue Squadron emblem painted on your fuselage, there is one more negative —the command simply loves to send you on various kinds of —demonstration missions. Across the galaxy...

—Yes, I woke up already! —Corran muttered grumpily, rubbing his eyes with his palms. Astrodroid Whistler once again burst into a trill, in which he bravely and no less angrily reminded his owner that he himself asked him to awaken him in all possible ways. Which is what the faithful droid did. There is no need for dissatisfied sayings here!

Stretching as far as the size of the canopy and the cabin as a whole allowed, Corran tried to come to his senses as quickly as possible. The chronometer on the dashboard was counting down the final minutes until his X-wing arrived at its destination. And once again the same thing will happen that happened in the Dafilvean sector —flights through systems, —face trading—, assurances that the Empire will never repeat such raids again...

All that remains is to understand whether this is a deception for those who suffered from the actions of the imperials or is it self-deception. Because at his previous duty station, in CorSec, Corran learned to perceive any information with skepticism. And if he lived on any of the attacked planets, then having heard something like that from someone's lips... He would have doubted. Very much.

But only because he himself is part of the New Republic military. And he understands how difficult their situation is at the moment. As well as the fact that it is impossible to provide protection to every planet that is part of the young state. Simply because the New Republic fleet is largely inferior to what the Galactic Empire had at the height of its power. Star Destroyers alone numbered over twenty thousand, not counting other types of starships. And even this was not enough to properly control what was happening in the galaxy. The New Republic, with all its desire, will not be able to achieve such a figure —not because it cannot, but because the Senate will consider such an approach absolutely stupid and financially unprofitable.

Surely they know how to count their money in the New Republic. And they love it.

And it doesn't matter to them that their exhausted military also has those who are waiting for them at home. And they love it.

—Whistler,— he turned to his little companion. as soon as we land on Sluis Van, remind me to contact Mirax. I missed her...

Inside he felt somehow melancholy and inexplicably sad that the next «campaign of bravado» was alienating him from the woman he loved. Very sad...

Corran became wary, feeling that at the very thought of Mirax Terrik, his wife, some kind of unpleasant, sucking feeling was forming inside him. He had the same thing a few years ago, when he held his father's dying body in his arms...

The pilot broke out in a cold sweat. What is this?! What about him?! Memories, or those Jedi things that Luke Skywalker told him about? Force? Yes, he called her that when he persuaded Corran to join him and become a Jedi...

Horn felt himself begin to breathe sharper and deeper. Very familiar behavior of your own body. It was as if he was still a CorSec operative and had gone out hunting for the enemy. Internal sensations of unstoppable trouble, a premonition of danger —this is what his father asked him to trust all his life. Directly or indirectly, until his death, without revealing the fact that he was a Jedi student and Corran himself inherited this dangerous gift from him.

A gift he neither wanted nor desired to develop.

The gift that told him that Mirax was in danger.

A gift that has just given him a choice: to continue his mission as a Rogue Squadron pilot, or to rush headlong into searching for his own wife.

Because as Skywalker said, premonitions do not deceive a Jedi. Hmm... or not? No, it seems like that... But no, the Jedi said just the opposite.

But this still does not change what is happening. Once they reach Sluis Van, he will immediately contact Mirax. If his instincts failed him this time... Oddly enough, he will only be happy about this factor. It is quite possible that these are just experiences and nothing terrible is happening...

And the next second he felt that there was someone else in his head besides himself. A wild, surreal feeling of ambiguity and the wrongness of what was happening overtook him at the very moment when he was already reaching for the hyperdrive shutdown lever. Yes, it was still early, but...

—I know where she is,— a deep, well-placed, authoritative and majestic voice invaded his consciousness so suddenly that Corran pressed his back into the back of his chair in surprise.

—Come to me, Corran Horn,— the same voice repeated, and this time a blurry image of a man appeared before the pilot's eyes... A mighty old man, with a strong-willed face, attentive eyes and a heavy gaze. His gray hair and unkempt beard fluttered, caught by gusts of wind... And he looked straight into the eyes of the Rogue Squadron pilot.

—Come, Corran Horn,— another thought cut through my mind again. —and you will find her. I'll show you how.

And after that the vision disappeared. As if he never existed.

And only the hysterical howl of Whistler tore Corran out of the embrace of... who knows what.

—What minutes? — Horn frowned, looking at the chronometer. When he reached for the lever, there were seven minutes left until he exited hyper. Now... Two seconds!

The pilot brought the car into real space. The light tunnel disintegrated, and the welcoming lights of the orbital docks of Sluis Van appeared ahead. And the wide stern of the Millennium Falcon, which emerged from hyperspace at a considerable distance from them. And apparently, he arrived earlier. The commander of this legendary freighter, only out of respect for the no less legendary unit, waited for their arrival, without wedging into the crowd of a huge array of the most diverse —from decrepit cargo carriers to huge Mon Calamari cruisers —starships clustered in Sluis Van orbit near the cargo terminals. And now the "Rogues" could admire not only the beauty of this pandemonium, but also the snow-white exhaust of the nozzles of the Millennium Falcon escort flying in front of a dozen "X-wings". Everything is as it should be for an escort.

Corran, having reported that all systems were in working order, furtively wiped the sweat from his forehead. I asked Whistler to repeat it. The garrulous astromech didn't mince words...

He fell out of reality for a good seven minutes! He just sat there, tense as a coiled spring, holding his hand. Frozen on the handle of the hyperdrive, looking at one point and not moving. And even though astromechs are not programmed for emotions, by his own admission, Whistler almost experienced a short circuit from what he saw.

—I don't like all this,— Corran swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat. Something is happening. But he doesn't know what. — We urgently need to contact Mirrax!

Clicking the communications frequency switch, he opened a channel to communicate directly with the commander of Rogue Squadron.

—Sir, I don't want to be a pessimist, but it seems that I have big problems in my family...