Ten years, two months, and six days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or the forty-fifth year, second month, and sixth day after the Great Resynchronization.
(Eight months and twenty-six days since arrival).
After Han's arguments had gone in circles for the third time, General Garm Bel Iblis finally stopped his verbal torrent by raising his hand.
"Yes, I understood your concerns the first time, Han," he commented, addressing his subordinate. "And yet, I'm willing to bet that a preemptive strike won't do us any good."
"It's a shame I don't have such assumptions," Han grumbled, looking at the commander of the 'Galactic Traveler,' who, tired of waiting for the superiors to reach an agreement, quietly cursed in Devaronian and left the comms bay. "Scouts confirm – there are large forces of the 'Black Sun' in the Thanium Worlds. Ten Kaloth-class battlecruisers are no joke. Not to mention three dozen Interceptor IV-class frigates, aircraft, landing forces... Sir, this grouping is practically equal in strength to what I currently have! If they all pile on at once, then either we all die here, or we'll be covered in blood!"
"Yes, outwardly, it all looks exactly like that," Bel Iblis thoughtfully twirled his mustache. "But for some reason, I feel there's something else going on here."
Han looked at his interlocutor in surprise.
"Then for what purpose is an entire pirate military fleet gathered at our doorstep? Thrawn thinned out this rabble properly, and they haven't gathered in large groups for a couple of months now. At least – in the north and east of the galaxy."
"I don't know what's behind it yet," the general said, frowning. "But let's turn to the facts. If the goal is Lianna, then why hasn't the attack happened yet? Why wait until the Alliance ships arrive?"
"I can go there and ask them," Han blurted out nervously. "I'm sure they'll be eloquent. And more inclined to communicate than when they met our scouts – two never returned."
"You shouldn't have sent them there at all," Bel Iblis stated. "It could be considered a provocation."
"Sir," Han gritted his teeth. "My job is to guard these borders. To protect Lianna at any cost. Should I just sit and wait for the turbolaser rain to pour down on my guys?"
"Mon Mothma hopes for a diplomatic solution," declared the Supreme Commander of the Alliance. "We have sent a diplomatic note to the government of the Thanium Worlds asking for clarification on what is happening on their territory..."
It seemed to Han that he had misheard.
"Sir, are you serious?" he clarified.
"More than ever," Bel Iblis sighed.
"We've actually contacted the government of the Thanium Worlds to ask them if they are consolidating pirates, mercenaries, and other scum on their territory?" Han asked, not believing his ears.
"This is the decision of the Head of the Alliance. Before solving the problem with weapons – a note of protest should be made and your concerns expressed."
"Sounds like mockery," Han stated.
"Such are the rules of interplanetary diplomacy."
"Oh, well, if our diplomats stand in formation with my fighters, then there's no problem!"
"Han, calm down!"
"We have clear information that they plan to capture Lianna and..."
"This information came from Carrde," Bel Iblis remarked gently, giving up and moving from formal arguments to more or less real ones.
In fact, such was the nature of compatriots.
They only started confessing when things smelled of tibanna.
"As did most of the rest," Han reminded him. "And don't even think that in the past, it was precisely thanks to this information that we won and got out of crisis situations. Especially – when separating from the New Republic a few months earlier."
"Information needs verification," Bel Iblis averted his eyes. "It's dangerous to blindly trust private intelligence."
"Then why do we need it at all if we don't trust it?" Solo began to get angry.
"Let's not get personal, Han," Bel Iblis suggested. "We already have experience of blindly trusting Carrde."
"Positive..."
"I wouldn't say that the fall of dozens of disguised and explosive-laden asteroids onto Coruscant's Upper Level is a positive experience," Han's compatriot snorted.
"Oh," Solo grimaced. "So that's the deal. And I was wondering why we're distancing ourselves from this guy."
"We are merely choosing caution," Garm Bel Iblis corrected his compatriot. "The Alliance's position is still shaky, and we cannot afford to make mistakes like that."
"Just as we shouldn't underestimate the threat!"
"Exactly," Bel Iblis smiled tiredly. "The situation with Kessel clearly demonstrates this. We thought that after Thrawn's death, Pellaeon would sit quieter than a stellar wind, but it turns out he conducted a military operation right under our noses to capture a source of strategic raw materials."
"Shall we express our protest to him?" Han quipped. "I'm sure he cares."
"If the Dominion maintained any contact with us, then perhaps we would have reached Pellaeon," Bel Iblis shared "inside kitchen." "But Moff Hauser, Grand Moff Ferrus's aide, who controls the Dominion's peripheral planets, advised our representative on Makeb to leave Dominion territory as quickly as possible."
"Oh, so we tried to negotiate with them?" Han was surprised.
The Dominion is the same Empire, just presented in different colors and with a different sauce.
"We are trying to negotiate with all galactic states, including the Dominion."
"And with Imperial Space?" Han didn't believe it.
"With them, as with the Alignment – no more," said Bel Iblis. "As of yesterday."
"I wonder why?" Solo was surprised.
"We sent our envoys to them," General Bel Iblis admitted reluctantly. "Yesterday morning, courier droids delivered their bodies and heads. Separately from each other."
"Well, damn it!" Han swore colorfully.
"Completely agree," Bel Iblis nodded. "Cruel and bloody. In the spirit of the old Empire. But now, at least, we understand that the conflict cannot be resolved through negotiations. It feels like the opponent is confident in their victory and has no intention of negotiating. Most likely, this is due to their having reserves from the Deep Core and Palpatine."
"Perhaps," Han agreed. "But this is clearly not a reason to ignore the growing tension right under our noses. Knowing the old maniac, one might think that he intends to thoroughly mess with us using other people's hands before attacking with his own forces."
"Possibly," Bel Iblis nodded. "But diplomacy comes first. The ability to negotiate without brandishing weapons – that's what fundamentally distinguishes us from the Imperials."
"Sir, can we do without ideological slogans?" Han inquired. "I'm not one of those guys who need motivational speeches. I'd prefer more ships and personnel."
"You will be transferred the Star Destroyers captured from Lantilles," his direct commander refreshed Solo's memory. "In a few hours, our freighters with K-wings for your fleet should arrive, and I have separately dispatched five MC80a-class Star Cruisers from my own reserve to reinforce your positions. Forgive me, Han, but I have no other ships for you. We have to wait."
"I understand," Han didn't give up. "But the situation frankly makes me nervous. To strike Lianna before reinforcements arrive – that's the best option the enemy has."
"Don't remind me of tactical calculations either," his compatriot retorted. "I know the situation on the fronts perfectly well. Unfortunately, for now, we have to proceed from a defensive position. Once we build up our armed forces, we'll think about how to eliminate problems before they become our big problems."
'I just hope it's not too late,' Han thought.
"Understood, sir," he sighed, realizing he couldn't get permission for a preemptive strike. "But if these aren't pirates, but the forces of the Thanium Worlds, then in future negotiations with House Thion, we could gain an additional position by disarming Thanium in advance."
"Or we can strengthen our forces if we can win them over to our side and thus show our goodwill, not aggression or helplessness," Bel Iblis said. "Mon Mothma is actively promoting the position that the Alliance is not the New Republic. Such theses have brought us many supporters. It's possible that the government of the Thanium Worlds will also agree to join us voluntarily, despite having seceded from the New Republic in the past."
"Big politics is spinning before our eyes again," Han said with disappointment. "And the military will have to clean it up later."
"That is our lot, Han," Bel Iblis stated. "We must show the galaxy that our strategy is defense, not attack. And that we cannot be accused, as Thrawn was able to do under a false flag against the New Republic, of organizing attacks on convoys throughout the galaxy."
"Sometimes I regret that this guy wasn't on our side," Han admitted. "I don't know how, but he managed to be several steps ahead of all his opponents."
"Which didn't save him from death," Bel Iblis reminded him.
"Uh-huh," Han agreed. "Anything from Luke, Wedge, and the others?"
"Absolutely nothing," Bel Iblis confessed. "Our allies in the New Republic say that the Dominion exchanged the prisoners they had left from the last campaign. But neither Skywalker, nor Antilles, nor Madine, nor other high-ranking officers who were captured but not executed, are among them. They themselves haven't announced themselves either..."
"Interesting, maybe they managed to escape?"
"Then, I think, they would have come to us," Bel Iblis suggested. "Fe'liia has an extremely negative attitude towards any high-ranking military personnel who end up as prisoners. So they definitely wouldn't have returned to the New Republic of their own free will. I don't think they, like Skywalker, disappeared somewhere. Of their own free will or not – it's all a big mystery now."
"The Dominion could clarify the situation," Han sighed.
"Yes," Bel Iblis agreed. "If they wanted to talk to us – they would have definitely clarified it. Unfortunately, that's not the case."
"According to rumors, they found common ground with the New Republic," Han recalled one of his conversations with Lando. "Carrde once noted that the New Republic's budget didn't suffer at all from them exchanging prisoners with the Dominion. And we all know that they didn't return POWs for free."
"If this is a hint at an agreement between Pellaeon and Fe'liia, then we lean towards the same conclusion," Bel Iblis said in a lowered voice. "Unfortunately, we cannot establish contact with either of them. And we certainly don't expect anyone to provide answers to our questions."
"Are our well-wishers in the New Republic also silent?" Han clarified.
Honestly, he didn't care about any behind-the-scenes games.
But the experience of clashes with the Dominion and the latest news from Kessel suggested to him that one should not underestimate the protégés of the late Grand Admiral Thrawn.
Everything inside him tightened into a knot.
Some members of the Alliance Government, including Bel Iblis himself, feared Thrawn so much that they didn't believe he could have died.
What happened on Kessel only fueled the conspiracy theorists.
Han himself didn't know what to fear more – the absurdity that Thrawn could have cheated death, or that he had competent "heirs" in the Dominion.
Here, you don't know what to fear more.
"So we're waiting again," Solo said unsatisfactorily. "Sitting and waiting for things to only get worse."
"Unfortunately. I'm also not pleased that I have to sit under Lantilles and defend myself. But a counteroffensive without reserves is death. That's why we were only observers in D'Astan, although the desire to annex this sector to the Alliance was great. Poking the Dominion in the rear right before the parade is great. But, unfortunately, we don't have the resources for it. Stretched communications are death for us and millions of our soldiers."
"Waiting for Kane to fix his 'Reaper' and unleash it on us or the Republic – that's death," Han said irritably. "Not only for us, millions of soldiers, but for the entire Alliance."
"By the time it's out of repair, we'll already have top-notch reserves," Bel Iblis stated. "Han, I'd gladly chat more, but business doesn't wait."
"Yes, I understand," Solo spread his hands. "I'll go take care of my general duties. Sit in a big chair with a view of space and wait."
Bel Iblis chuckled.
"We all hope that Leia can do what none of us could," he voiced the Alliance government's aspirations.
"As always – our family is on the front lines, deciding the fate of opponents of government excess and lawlessness," Han concluded. "Well, it was a pleasure talking to you, sir."
"As was I, Han."
When the holographic projector went out, the Corellian, dropping his face onto his folded hands on the terminal, sat in complete silence for a few seconds, gathering his raging thoughts.
Finding no common denominator for them, Han abruptly stood up and headed away from the comms bay.
He ambled down the corridor towards the hangar, distractedly greeting the crew members who, due to his rank and position, offered him a military salute.
In the hangar, he noticed Chewbacca, who was making the final preparations for the 'Millennium Falcon' before departure.
Warmly greeting his friend, Han listened to his quiet growl.
"Yes, Chewie," he said with disappointment. "Naturally, no one listened to me. Carrde was right – he's not trusted. They'll double-check his information until they're blue in the face. I just hope it's not too late by then."
The Wookiee growled another angry phrase.
"I know, my friend," Han smiled through gritted teeth. "I believe you'll do everything to protect Leia and Lando. If it weren't for you two, I wouldn't have sent her to the Tion Hegemony."
On board his ship, which was increasingly transforming from a simple freighter, Han found his wife in the lounge, once again reviewing information crystals.
"If you keep staring at the deck so intently, it'll one day tell you: 'This is not the deck you're looking for!'" he joked, sitting down next to his wife and hugging her.
Leia, appreciating Obi-Wan Kenobi's altered speech from her brother's story about how they left Tatooine before meeting Han himself, smiled and kissed him:
"I just can't shake off my worries," she admitted. "Nervousness before negotiations is normal. But something tells me that everything won't go as planned."
"You, Chewie, and Lando have warning 'beacons'," Han reminded his wife, hugging her tighter. "If any of them activate, I'll be in the Tion Hegemony with my entire arsenal."
"Bel Iblis, I understand, didn't want to listen to Carrde's arguments?" Leia asked.
"From my conversation with him, I understood that after Coruscant, Bel Iblis doesn't want to take his word for it," Han lamented. "They're checking and rechecking everything he brings to the Alliance on a silver platter. And besides, we simply don't have the reserves to both attack the pirates and leave Lianna protected. Perhaps, when the captured destroyers arrive, I'll still manage to pay them a courtesy visit and bring them to heel."
"You won't succeed," Leia sighed resignedly.
"Is the Force telling you that?" Han tensed.
He had long been accustomed to trusting his gifted wife's premonitions and didn't try to dispute them with arguments that she, unlike her brother, wasn't a trained Force-sensitive.
"Experience," his wife dispelled his assumption. "And the Force also says that something is wrong. Mon Mothma cherishes her 'Alliance-not New Republic' position so much that she will squeeze everything she can out of this case. You can draw your own conclusions, I think."
"Uh-huh," Han nodded. "And I don't like them."
"Nobody likes them," Leia admitted. "Negotiations with the Tion Hegemony don't please me either."
"Then we should cancel them," Han declared. "Tell Mon Mothma – find someone else."
"Unfortunately, that won't work," his wife said. "We don't have that many diplomats. And the work – isn't decreasing."
Han remembered Bel Iblis's words about the executed envoys and decided to remain silent.
"I agree that we should strengthen our territories," he said. "The Empire, the Alignment... And somewhere there, Palpatine in the Deep Core. These are not the neighbors I wanted to live with in the same house."
"What scares me most is Luke's disappearance," Leia whispered. "He wouldn't have disappeared of his own free will so easily, without telling anyone anything."
"Cold-blooded murder is not an experience one wants to share with loved ones," Han tried to rationalize. "I think the kid will stay in silence for a while, reflect, and come back."
"I fear that Thrawn's words about Palpatine's desire to capture Luke will turn out to be true," Leia stated. "As well as his other warnings."
"Even if that's the case, your brother is stronger than quadranium steel," Solo assured her, pulling her close. "Whatever Palpatine might have planned, if he captured Luke, he won't achieve his goal."
"If Luke is with him, then he clearly intends to lure him to the Dark Side of the Force," Leia said confidently. "I think the events of the past few months might have undermined his self-confidence."
"No," Han said firmly. "Luke faced the Death Star alone. He fought ssi-ruuk, nagai, and tofa, with a bunch of Palpatine's servants. He fought with your father and didn't succumb to Palpatine. If he is indeed a prisoner, then he certainly won't surrender to the Emperor's mercy."
"Yes, probably," Leia whispered.
"Hey, sweetie, what's wrong?" Han pulled away from his wife to look her in the eyes. "We need to believe that we'll win, as always. Being a pessimist these days is wrong."
"And being a realist is dangerous for your psyche," Leia smiled. "Yes, you're right. We need to believe in our victory."
Han hugged his wife, saying nothing in response.
Because there was nothing to say.
Faith in one's own strength – that's what they had left.
That's how they would win...
They sat like this until the 'Falcon' took off.
Looking through the atmospheric field as his ship went into hyperspace, heading for negotiations, Han heard himself being called.
Turning around, Solo was even surprised to see the commander of the 'Galactic Traveler' hurrying towards him.
"Sir," the sentient said excitedly. "You asked to be informed when the freighters with the bombers arrived."
That is, they had sat here with Leia for several hours.
"Yes. What's wrong?" the flagship commander clearly wouldn't have sought him out personally for trivial matters. "Are they late?"
"The transports have arrived, sir," the officer licked his dry lips. "Six are missing. Contact with them has been lost."
"And I thought, why has fate been holding back on kicking me in the gut for so long," Han said through clenched teeth, glancing at the spot where the 'Falcon' had jumped. "It turns out she was just taking a break."
One could only hope that the disappearance of the freighters with the bombers was not related to Leia's mission.
***
"Sir, all ships are in combat positions," the watch officer informed Kalain.
The commander of the 'Steel Aurora' nodded affirmatively.
"Let's begin," Kalain took a personal commlink from his pocket. "Comms officer, call Captain Fulik from the 'Binder'."
"Will be done, Captain."
The 'Binder' is an Interdictor-class Star Destroyer, assigned to the 'Victory' division, which the young commander of the 'Steel Aurora' has been ordered to command.
The unit included, in addition to his own ship, the 'Bellicose,' 'Retribution,' and 'Striving.'
All of them were, in one way or another, veteran ships of the Dominion's regular fleet.
Experienced crews had gone through many battles and proven their combat cohesion.
It was no wonder that Grand Admiral Thrawn had sent them into the rear of the territories currently controlled by the Alliance.
Even though the crews, diluted by young recruits from the Metropolis Defense Forces, had to be "driven" through training alerts while taking circuitous routes to get here, Kalian was confident in the effectiveness of his formation.
As was the fact that he was not for nothing appointed by Thrawn to command these five ships, while Counter-Admiral I-Gor was busy with something else after that memorable encounter on board the 'Chimera.'
Perhaps this was a second chance to test Kalian's suitability for commanding something larger than the single 'Victory-III,' which his 'Steel Aurora' was.
To his right, a new blue-and-white hologram appeared above the projector plate.
"At your service, Commander."
Kalian looked at the stout man, who pretended that his pride was not at all offended.
In Imperial times, any ship on the scale of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer became the flagship of a detachment compared to a 'Victory.'
Now, everything was the opposite.
An Interdictor under the command of a Victory.
Especially since Fulik had more service time than Kalian.
But if the young officer understood anything about Grand Admiral Thrawn's actions, it was that age and authority had no value to him.
Only real combat experience.
And among all the commanders of the formation, only the commander of the 'Steel Aurora' had such experience.
Fulik was probably annoyed by this.
But to the credit of the 'Binder's' commander, he expressed nothing other than that military operations should be activated to destroy the New Republic.
His impulses were understandable – his friend, Commander Darran, had died in the Battle of Sluis Van.
Revenge fueled all the fighters who hailed from the Ciutric Hegemony.
Darran was loved, and he enjoyed well-deserved authority among his compatriots.
So today, thanks to the excellent reconnaissance, they would have a chance to take revenge.
"Deploy the gravity well generators to the designated vectors, Captain," he said. "Target sector – vector five-six. We'll cover the other directions."
"The crew of the 'Binder' has long been ready, Captain. They are just waiting for orders," Fulik looked at someone outside the camera. "Activate the gravity trawl."
The next moment, four red cones appeared on the tactical terminal, indicating the deployment of artificial gravity fields projected by the 'Binder.'
Now, in the middle of the Parlimarian Trade Route, a "shadow" appeared in hyperspace, roughly equivalent to that cast by a planet of considerable size.
Any ship moving through this zone would automatically exit into real space to avoid being smeared against the astronomical object casting this "shadow."
The hyperdrive safety mechanisms would engage, and the target would jump into real space.
And here it would be met by five Dominion ships.
Kalian placed the 'Steel Aurora' and the 'Bellicose' in one group, and the 'Retribution' and 'Striving' – opposite them.
The 'Binder,' true to its name, was positioned to the side of them.
If there had been an observer in the middle of this cosmic void and they had taken a position ten to twenty echelons above the five destroyers, they could have stated that Captain Kalian had positioned his ships in the shape of a two-pronged fork, where the single 'Interdictor' acted as the "leg."
And the four 'Victory' Mark IIIs, lined up perpendicular to the bow of the 'Binder,' nose to nose – these were the "prongs," within which the trawl vectors were deployed.
Well, today the 'Binder' would have to perform both roles assigned by military doctrine to ships equipped with gravity well generators.
To prevent the enemy from escaping into hyperspace.
And to pull them out of hyperspace.
And the "prongs," as well as the 'Binder's' weapons, would grind everything that fell into this trap.
"Prepare missiles for launch," Kalian ordered the ships of his combat group. "Turbolasers target the firing zone according to the fire distribution vectors. On scanners!"
"Yes, sir!" the relevant officer responded.
"Monitor the readings carefully! I want to know the identifiers of these ships! Record all identification codes!"
More precisely, not him, but Grand Admiral.
And Kalian himself wanted to know why his formation had lingered in interstellar void in radio silence for so long until Thrawn contacted them a day ago and gave the command to start the operation.
Moreover, judging by the number of holograms at this "conference," it seemed like the entire regular fleet had gone "hunting."
If only one knew why...
"Sir," he heard Captain Fulik's voice. "May I activate the long-range jamming station?"
Kalian closed his eyes for a second, mentally cursed himself for his oversight, then pulled himself together and looked at the hologram.
"Thank you for the reminder, Captain Fulik. Do so."
Throughout Grand Admiral Thrawn's last campaign, the regular fleet had only one ship capable of jamming long-range communications.
It was the 'Eternal Wrath,' the sister ship of the 'Binder.'
With an old, but heavily modernized, jamming device installed on it, this 'Interdictor' completely blocked data transmission beyond the average star system.
Now, such equipment, likely purchased on the galactic black market, had been installed on all active 'Interdictors' of the regular fleet without exception.
And it must have cost a lot of money.
"Communications jammed," Fulik reported.
"Five targets arriving!" the grav-acoustics officer reported.
"To your stations!" Kalian barked. "Prepare for combat!"
Their target emerged precisely into the trap set.
The enemy squad consisted of five MC80a-class Star Cruisers.
And credit must be given to the enemy, they quickly realized that their situation was frankly dire.
Five ships, each of which could fight a Victory-I or Victory-II Star Destroyer on equal terms.
A sufficient number of them were also available for the guaranteed destruction of an 'Imperial.'
The only difference was that now they were facing four 'Victory' Mark IIIs, each equivalent to an Imperial Star Destroyer.
And thanks to the missile launchers – even superior to them.
"Distance to target – forty units!"
"Target loaded into warheads!"
"Launchers twenty-one through forty – fire!" Kalian ordered.
Twenty anti-ship missiles, guided to their victim by homing warheads, rushed towards the Alliance Star Cruiser closest to the 'Steel Aurora.'
The enemy responded with a salvo of their turbolasers.
The deflectors of the mighty Dominion ship easily absorbed the streams of destructive energy.
"Begin maneuvering!" Kalian ordered, seeing that the emptied launchers had gone for reloading. "To the right – ninety."
Remaining in place, the 'Steel Aurora,' like the other three 'Victory-IIIs,' began to turn right, firing their bow launchers at their white-and-brown opponents.
A tactic perfected since the Battle of Hoth.
While the bow launchers are reloading, a stationary Victory-class Star Destroyer turns its hull and fires missiles from its side launchers at the target.
"Launchers forty-one through sixty are targeting!"
Kalian watched as the first salvo swept across the hull of the Star Cruiser, scoring it with holes, fiery flashes, and fireworks at the impact sites.
Not all projectiles reached their target – the enemy was firing suppressive fire, to which their pilots, who had managed to leave the ships at the start of the skirmish, joined in.
"Salvo!"
"Salvo confirmed!"
"Turn left ninety!"
Now the ship was returning to its original position – bow to the enemy's side.
"Bow launchers reloaded and ready!"
"Target coordinates entered!"
The eight-gun turbolaser turrets installed on the 'Victory-IIIs' began a green barrage of deadly fire directly at the enemy.
The 'Binder,' holding the enemy in its invisible gravity nets, also engaged in a firefight with the Alliance Star Cruiser attacking it.
"Bow salvo!"
And again, two dozen halos of missile engines illuminated the bow of the 'Steel Aurora.'
"Enemy aircraft approaching the 'Aurora's' outer defense perimeter!"
"Launch our interceptors!" Kalian immediately ordered. "Turn left – ninety!"
And again, exposing the side to the enemy for a missile salvo.
The Mon Calamari Star Cruiser had already turned its bow towards them and was moving forward with all its might, unleashing a fiery hell on the 'Steel Aurora' with its turbolasers.
Kalian's gunners took aim at the enemy, concentrating all their power from the starboard side on the narrow "forehead" of the enemy.
Heavy turbolasers broke through the bow deflector shields and burned long black streaks on the armor.
By this time, the 'Steel Aurora' had already fired its fifth salvo, returning to its initial position in space.
And the damage inflicted on the enemy starship could be seen with the naked eye.
Through the holes in the hull, along with the superheated air, small debris and bodies were sucked out.
The gunners of his ship concentrated fire on the bridge and the upper deck, turning the bow of the Star Cruiser into a shapeless pile of expensive scrap metal.
When the fifth salvo, reinforced by the broadside fire of all the 'Steel Aurora's' turbolasers, hit its target, Kalian's enemy, from a warship with a brave crew, turned into a drifting dead hulk with a trail of melted metal fragments.
The sixth salvo simply tore off the ship's bow section up to the "fins," which could be considered decapitation.
The shapeless pile of scrap metal moved by inertia, individual weapon blisters trying to fire.
Well, one must give the Mon Calamari credit – they know how to build ships.
The energy redundancy, based on numerous generators located under the armor, allowed them to continue fighting even with the main power plant disabled.
But now it's not even funny.
"Turbolasers – fire on the remains," Kalian ordered. "Launchers – fire on the nearest enemy."
There were only two of them.
The Star Cruiser that was attacking the 'Binder' and its counterpart, engaged by the 'Bellicose.'
The latter was still resisting the 'Victory-III's' shots, but in response, it began to receive additional anti-ship missiles the size of a starfighter.
The deflectors, and along with them the hull of the ship, collapsed in a matter of seconds, the hull couldn't withstand it, and another Star Cruiser turned into heaps of dead metal.
Observing the detonation of his first defeated enemy, Kalian turned his gaze to the "Binder."
The enemy was maneuvering desperately and, for the moment, still holding together in a relatively orderly fashion.
Which was logical, considering that any of the "Victory"-class ships engaged in the battle outmatched the "Interdictor" in the weight of their artillery barrage.
"To the 'Bellicose' – provide support to 'Retribution' and 'Striving'," Kalian ordered.
"Message sent, sir!"
"Set course for the 'Binder'," the commander of the "Steel Aurora" ordered.
He didn't mind Fulik dealing with the enemy on his own, but in a situation where they had to operate behind enemy lines, it was quite dangerous.
At the very least, the prolonged operation of the gravity well generators could eventually pull unwanted "guests" out of hyperspace.
The very first salvo of anti-ship missiles melted the engine cluster of the enemy ship.
The detonation collapsed the aft deflectors.
Following this, Captain Kalian's destroyer sent a barrage of ion and turbolaser fire after the now-slowed Mon Calamari-manufactured ship.
The rear hemisphere of the star cruiser was engulfed in flashes of fire.
A subsequent volley finally charred the stern and burned out the engines, thus rendering the enemy ship a helpless invalid, moving forward by inertia.
The "Binder" intensified its assault, flooding the entire front hemisphere of the enemy with artillery fire.
The shields collapsed, all electronics shut down, and escape pods scattered in all directions.
Kalian grunted.
Three out of five in twenty minutes – quite fast.
"The fourth enemy star cruiser is destroyed!" the watch officer reported.
"Change of orders," Kalian said into the commlink, addressing the commanders of all ships. "To the Interceptors – attack the enemy strike craft. Not one must leave here. Dispatch rescue shuttles to capture enemy escape pods and downed pilots. There should be no witnesses to our presence here on the battlefield."
The last enemy ship managed to hit "Striving" – one of the fighters managed to destroy the right deflector field generator, which towered above the superstructure.
Well, that's unfortunate – the ship lost equipment.
But not its shields.
Now the enemy had a unique opportunity – to witness that Dominion ships were significantly different from Imperial ones.
On the latter, the deflector field generators were located not only in the two "spheres" above the superstructure but also housed long-range communication systems, sensors, and various antennas.
The destruction of such a "sphere" threatened the ship's defense.
But not in the case of the "threes," for which these legacies of the past were no more than attachment points and locations for first-tier equipment.
The deflector field generators had long ago, by analogy with Mon Calamari ships, been hidden under armor.
Along with the deflector boost generator from the MC80a, installed on the "Victory" model "three."
"Striving's" defenses were not harmed in the slightest.
Only the scanning systems.
And the enemy understood this very quickly.
But it wouldn't save them now.
"Captain Kalian to all ships – destroy."
The turbolasers of the "Steel Aurora," along with those of five other ships, merged into a single storm of death that washed over the last star cruiser.
White-green, all-consuming energy gnawed holes in the enemy ship's hull.
The hull plates, heated by the incandescent plasma, swelled into bubbles, tearing apart like an overripe boil, adorning the space around the ship with myriads of debris and dead bodies.
The cannons continued to destroy bulkhead after bulkhead, compartment after compartment, as the anti-ship missiles engaged.
The remaining structural ribs, bulkheads, and decks of the ship were scattered by a series of explosions that merged into sequential detonations.
The starship was torn apart and deformed like crumpled paper.
Baradium warheads exploded, vaporizing metal and flesh, disfiguring and destroying everything in their path.
The beating of the fifth Mon Calamari star cruiser ceased only when a fiery flash appeared in its place, vaporizing the remains of the crew and the ship's hull.
"Execute final orders," Kalian said. "Rescue survivors, destroy those attempting to escape."
He was silent for a second, then realized.
"Did we get their identifiers?"
"Yes, sir," his communications and cryptographers assured him. "All ships identified, their transponder signals recorded in a repeating cycle."
Good.
"Good work," he praised the crew. "Combat watch remains at their posts, we are shifting to 'yellow' alert. Everyone else – stand down. Rest. Captain Fulik," he looked at the commander of the "Binder." "Deactivate the gravity well generators."
"Yes, sir," the Sullustan replied eagerly. "Thank you for coming to our aid. My guys have enough motivation, but we're short on weapons. I wish we could get to the shipyard soon and become 'Dominant.' Then the fun will really start..."
"I'm sure it will," Kalian nodded, not wanting to discuss the dream of all "Interdictor" commanders – to have their ships modernized according to the "Triple" project.
He had enough that this half-hour battle had thoroughly exhausted him mentally.
And, thanks to the artillery and missiles, it was already over.
He had no doubt that everything would go perfectly and all traces would be cleaned up.
Only one thing remained.
The commander of the "Steel Aurora" walked over to the holographic projector and manually dialed the encryption channel.
It took some time for a secure communication connection to be established.
"Grand Admiral," he saluted upon seeing Thrawn's hologram. "The unit entrusted to me has completed the assigned task. Five star cruisers from Lantilles have been intercepted and destroyed. Their identification data has been recorded and recognized. The data transmitted by agent 'Bravo-Three' proved to be fully accurate."
"Excellent work, Captain," Thrawn said.
The holo-projector blinked with the indicator of a received file.
"You have been sent the coordinates of a temporary base of operations behind enemy lines," the Supreme Commander informed him. "You and your people need rest before the next assignment. Make good use of the time provided."
"It will be done, sir," Kalian saluted the hologram, which was beginning to fade.
Bringing up the received information on the screen, the young star destroyer commander frowned.
"What is this planet Horn?" he voiced his sincere bewilderment aloud, but in a half-whisper, so as not to raise unnecessary questions among the destroyer's crew. "And since when do we have a garrison, production bases, and a staging point there?"
He could only hope that the base commandant would clarify these questions.
Although...
Knowing Thrawn, that was unlikely.
Moff Nivers' face was contorted with rage.
"Captain," he hissed venomously. "It seems it's time for me to contact your command."
"That's your prerogative," Steben shrugged. "You have the right to appeal any of my actions that you deem contestable through administrative procedures..."
Nivers practically exploded, a stark contrast to the operative's calm demeanor.
"I am a Moff!"
"Thank you for reminding me, but I haven't forgotten your rank..."
"I manage the Korva sector!"
"I remember that too."
"Then what in the blazes are you doing?!" Nivers roared.
"Working," Steben said calmly.
He still enjoyed working in counterintelligence.
But when it came to communicating with officials from a position of normal interaction, he felt like hanging himself.
However, it was part of the job.
He had to approach it stoically.
"Then please explain to me, what in the blazes is the Dominion Security Bureau doing blocking access to several systems in the sector!"
The Moff's indignation was understandable and logical.
"Classified information," Steben knew this argument wouldn't work with this particular person in this specific situation.
But he continued to use it.
What could he do – it was his job.
"What 'classified information' in the blazes!? You've blocked several trade routes!"
"I wonder if an official can choke on their own saliva?" Steben thought, watching the man spray the aforementioned liquid.
There were many ways Nivers could die without external intervention.
The question was, which would be faster – a heart attack, a stroke, choking, or his bloodshot eyes exploding?
"Don't exaggerate, Moff," Steben advised. "Counterintelligence isn't touching your precious trade routes."
"Oh, really, you scoundrel?!" Nivers snapped.
"I give you my word – no pickets or customs," the counterintelligence officer smiled friendly.
"Are you mocking me?"
"Not at all," the operative lied.
"I'm going to call the Grand Moff right now, and we'll see how you sing then, you formalist!" Nivers threatened, reaching for the holo-projector. "You've completely lost control! Scoundrels! How am I supposed to transport goods and equipment through the sector if you're blocking planets?!"
"You should decide who you want to complain to," Steben advised. "Grand Moff Ferrus is, of course, a significant figure in the Triumvirate, but he is not my superior. He is merely a civilian administrator. Perhaps you've forgotten, but I report to Colonel Astarion..."
The Triumvirate was the name given to the three most influential sentient beings who ruled the Dominion after the death of Grand Admiral Thrawn.
The aforementioned Grand Moff Ferrus was responsible for the internal political and civil aspects of the state.
Colonel Astarion – for the work of law enforcement services and Dominion counterintelligence.
Vice Admiral Pellaeon – for the Armed Forces, intelligence, and foreign relations, remaining the Dominion's voice on the galactic stage.
And Nivers couldn't help but know that Ferrus could actually do nothing to Steben – perhaps just wag his finger.
Astarion – could.
He could wag his finger, punch him in the face, demote him, fire him, and even send him into battle first.
In a situation with a subordinate's misconduct, the colonel could use any of the above legal or illegal methods of influence on the subordinate.
But there was a nuance.
The colonel was aware.
And Nivers couldn't help but understand that a simple operative wouldn't take such bold actions as imposing a ban on visiting a star system if he hadn't coordinated his actions with his superiors.
Therefore, the Moff preferred only to threaten, menace, yell, and spray saliva, but he understood that his superiors would not interfere.
Because counterintelligence matters were not under Grand Moff's control.
And with a very high probability, Felix Ferrus was aware of why the ban on visits was imposed.
And the presence of a couple of interdictor cruisers and several "Marauder"-class corvettes (old, but not useless) hinted that the counterintelligence actions were authorized by the Dominion Armed Forces headquarters.
"Scoundrel," Nivers sank into his chair, hitting the tabletop with all his might. "You're behaving worse than pirates!"
"Perhaps so, sir," the captain agreed diplomatically. "But my duty requires it. Access to the Galaanus system will not be opened. Until an order comes from above."
"And what am I supposed to do?" Nivers began to calm down. "Your interdictors are pulling all ships moving past out of hyperspace! Inspections, searches, interrogations of freighter crews! This is outright tyranny! Private contractors are refusing to move along this route after the very first trip!"
"Then refuse it," Steben shrugged.
"This route is twice as short as all the others!" Nivers insisted again. "The shortest route in this part of the sector!"
"Leading to the northeastern borders of the sector and the metropolis," the operative thought mechanically.
"I can't help you, Moff," he spread his hands. "Service interests require keeping this system away from prying eyes."
"You could have warned us in advance!" Nivers grumbled aggressively. "I've just started establishing logistics in the sector, connecting the planets, and you're pouring sweetener into my fuel tank. Right behind my back!"
"And again, I can only apologize," Steben said calmly. "It was not expected that the outer systems would attract your attention. That's why counterintelligence chose them."
"Not just chose them," Nivers spat out. "You classified all information about the planets in the Galaanus system."
"That's true," Steben didn't contradict the facts.
"Why couldn't you have informed us in advance?!" Nivers flared up, jumping up again.
"Secrecy protocol."
"To hell with your secrecy!" the Moff roared. "We're doing the same job! Turning this dead end into a prosperous province. Settling it! Building! Bringing order!"
"I understand," Steben said. "But our work is different. Yours is to make this sector better. Mine is to make it safer."
"And to keep secrets," Nivers growled.
"Including that," the operative nodded.
"Do you understand how many logistical routes will have to be recalculated?" the Moff asked. "How much more expensive will transportation become? The sector's budget will have to be revised, more money allocated, because freight prices will skyrocket!"
"I understand."
"If you understood, you would have informed us in advance where I shouldn't be going and laying routes!" Nivers bellowed. "Even now, we've encountered one problem. And I wouldn't be surprised if you have several more systems in the sector that are 'forbidden for visits without special permission'."
"Perhaps," Steben shrugged.
"Can you at least tell me if there are other such systems in the sector or not?"
"Classified information."
"May you burn in the Void, Steben!" the Moff of the Korva sector pleaded. "You can't do this! Can you just tell me which systems I shouldn't send ships to and rely on planets?"
"No, I can't."
"But we have to work together!"
"We are working!"
"What the blazes?!" Nivers threw up his hands. "Why does counterintelligence work openly with Moffs in all sectors, but you've created Imperial Palace secrets here?"
"It's the job," Steben shrugged. "And, if it's not a secret, in which sectors have counterintelligence officers met Moffs halfway and informed them about the existence of 'forbidden systems'?"
"In Mieru'kar, for example," Nivers threw out. "I spoke with Brinkan just this morning. He advised me to contact the local DBS representative to clarify the situation."
"How interesting," Steben narrowed his eyes. "It seems I have colleagues who can't keep their mouths shut."
"No, you have colleagues who understand that with limited budgets and sector development policies, we need to work together, not waste resources spending days reaching remote systems and finding disgruntled fleet personnel who aren't happy serving in the wilderness and catching their own citizens who make a living by freight!"
It sounded very convincing.
But in practice...
"So, Moff Brinkan is aware of the existence of 'forbidden worlds' in his territory?" Steben clarified.
"His DBS branch didn't make a secret of it," Nivers stated. "They just advised not to go into a couple of systems. They hinted that they were protecting fleet secrets, and that's it! That's how you do collaborative work!"
"More like digging a hole," Steben thought.
"... Do you even understand that I have to pay the full freight for a canceled trip!? It's stipulated in the contracts! 'Cessation of transport due to circumstances beyond the freighter crew's control!'"
"I understand your pain and concerns about the budget, Moff, but I can't help you," Steben stated. "Secrecy protocol..."
"I'm not asking you to reveal what you're doing there!" the Moff said peacefully. "Just tell me where the path is blocked, and that's it. I'll save money and time, and your picket detachments won't be bothered for trivial reasons. Do you really want to get away from your work, fly to me, and listen to me yell throughout the residence? Not only that, but with your secret secrets, you're also violating your own secrecy! Do you think you can really make the crews keep quiet and not tell anyone that they were intercepted by fleet personnel somewhere and interrogated for two days? Hell no! I've already been informed that a couple of crews are blabbing. It's good that the governors, at my request, shut them up by throwing them in the brig until they sober up! Do you see what happens when work isn't coordinated in the same territory?!"
Steben put on a thoughtful expression.
"Weellll..." he drawled. "There is, of course, a certain logic to it. Too much work is needed by no one..."
"Well, of course!"
"And we didn't account for the fact that the crews of detained ships would blab," Steben sighed. "It was assumed, of course, that no one in their right mind would go there."
"And that's always how it turns out," Nivers confided. "I also sent caravans and scouts with good intentions. I thought about finding new deposits, starting development, and so on. And it turns out that I've spoiled your secrecy, and I also have to pay budget money for unfinished work!"
"Yes, I overdid it," Steben admitted. "Well, I don't think it will do much harm if I say..."
Interest appeared in Nivers' eyes.
"I think you'll only have to change this route," he smiled. "Otherwise, the sector is free for flights."
"Phew," Nivers wiped the sweat from his brow with relief. "We can consider ourselves lucky. One planet, then?"
"One system," the operative clarified. "There are two planets there."
"And have you scanned them?" Nivers inquired. "Is there anything valuable there? I could start mining there under your protection. It would be for the good of the entire sector!"
"There's nothing of economic interest there," Steben stated. "Otherwise, we would have chosen a different system. The military is very meticulous in this regard – they don't need planets for their purposes that are of any interest to the population or civilian authorities."
"A pity," the Moff sighed. "Well, thank you for that."
"You're welcome," Steben smiled.
"I thought I could optimize work somewhere. But," he spread his hands, "nothing can be done. Military matters are a priority. Let them do whatever they're doing, I'll remove the route from the lists," the Moff continued to voice his thoughts aloud. "And it promised to be profitable and efficient. Wait a minute," the Moff frowned. "What would be better: to completely isolate the route from transport, or just the part that goes to the Galaanus system? I just don't want the military to cross paths with my carriers at all. If they see a couple of destroyers adjusting their courses, they'll start talking. During the Empire, you know how many secret bases rebels discovered that way? Although, how would you know. You're so young..."
Steben chuckled mentally.
"It's better to do it completely," he recommended. "Transport of equipment and soldiers is carried out along this route. We try to ensure they don't intersect."
"I'll handle it," Nivers promised. "Military matters are a priority. Let them fly and fear nothing – there will be no civilian ships there anymore. Not a single one."
"Thank you for your help, Moff."
"You should have said so earlier," Nivers grumbled. "Just let me know if you decide to change the location. The route is attractive, so if you don't need it, I'll gladly use it for civilian transport."
"I'm afraid not in our lifetime, Moff," Steben stated. "As long as we need ships, armor, soldiers, and weapons – the base will remain there."
The Moff sighed resignedly.
"You're clearly not going to make my life easier, guys," he said. "Well, we'll work as is. All the best, Captain."
Closing the door to the Moff's office behind him, Steben, with an impassive mask on his face, moved towards the exit.
He urgently needed to contact the colonel and report everything he had heard and said in advance.
Talkative counterintelligence officers are not liked a priori, but it's worst when you find out about their chatter completely by accident.
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: Granulan