Grand Admiral

I am still alive and I wish you all a pleasant reading)

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

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

Well, we can conditionally say that coordinator Sergius can be trusted. At least in assessing the personality of the Moff and Captain I-Gor, he was not mistaken.

Well, now let's test his loyalty in a more serious matter.

Having informed Bravo-2 that I was interested in the crew of the ship on which Talon Karrde had previously served, I gave him half a day to prepare for the operation. This period was needed primarily so that our own naval intelligence officers could check whether the coordinator would send the information received to his former «masters». Didn't send.

But this allowed Captain I-Gor to prepare his ship for the upcoming flight.

It took me a lot of trouble to remember the place where exactly in the events known to me the Empire discovered the former commander of the Claw.

To independently search for information, I had only a few input data —what I was able to reconstruct from memory.

The captain's last name is Hoffner. He was found in a floating casino. Moreover, the establishment is not for the middle class. I also remembered that in the events known to me, the Imperials had to fire at an underwater casino in order to force the establishment to rise to the surface.

I had to spend a lot of time on my own at the computer before the scanty «clues» led to the result.

Planet Pantolomin. This world, almost completely covered by ocean, is located in the region of the Central Worlds, in the zone of influence of the New Republic. Sector Dolomar, Panto system. On the tactical coordinate network —in quadrant K-9. There are actually quite a few fashionable casinos and entertainment centers on the planet located on underwater tourist ships.

I just couldn't find out which of these ships Captain Hoffner was on, and whether he was present there now.

But Mr. Coordinator succeeded.

What he did not fail to inform me about at the end of the time allotted for preparation.

—Coral Vanda,— said the coordinator. — This is an amphibious tourist ship, for clients with high solvency. Captain Hoffner lives there in relatively expensive apartments. Spends indecently large amounts of money. Well known for his «big» gestures to staff. Passionate, arrogant. Does not play any machines or cards. However, he certainly participates in almost every game. Of course —with a sad result for your pocket.

To say that finding Hoffner in such a short time was a stroke of luck would be an understatement. But, I think, this is more a merit of the professionalism of Imperial Intelligence than an accident. The only question is whether the work of Imperial Intelligence in this context will become for me that very «act of betrayal» that will disrupt my plans.

— Is anything known about the other members of Karrde's crew? —I asked.

—Of the crew of the ship on which Karrde and Hoffner served, only these two remained alive,— answered the coordinator. —The rest either died in smuggler feuds or were killed by Imperial law enforcement.

—You did a great job, coordinator,— I said calmly. — As far as I remember, not so long ago the reputation of the Ubiqtorate suffered significant damage —the rebels struck Tangrene. We will not ignore this act. You and your people go to the Churba star system in the sector of the same name. On the planet New Cov, according to the information I have, there are agents of the person responsible for this crime. Your first priority is to contact the Governor and convince him to transfer some of the biomolecular mass being developed there to us in exchange for the fact that his planet will not be subject to Imperial invasion.

—Highly nutrient dense? —Sergius clarified. Having received an affirmative nod of his head, the coordinator became thoughtful. —If I remember correctly, it has been used in food additives for dry rations since the days of the Grand Army of the Republic in order to increase the nutritional value of food.

—That's right, coordinator,— I said. — Our armed forces are growing. And we need more food for our soldiers. Biomolecular mass will allow us to reduce food costs. Accordingly, the second task is to identify our enemy's agents and try to establish covert surveillance of them. Let's try in this way to reach their leader and commit an act of retaliation.

— Will there be instructions regarding the nature of the mission? — the coordinator clarified.

—Yes,— I answered. —Nothing should indicate our involvement. And at the same time, insurance is necessary to guarantee stable work in the future.

—I understand, sir,— Sergius assured me. As always, he's incredibly calm. Whether it's good or bad, we'll find out.

Having departed for the Crusader to complete his mission, the coordinator left me wondering.

***

Although the Crusader was retired at the end of the Clone Wars, the Victory I-class Star Destroyer was still in excellent condition.

Nine hundred meters in length from the bow to the stern engine nozzles. A first-class hyperdrive, making the ship one of the fastest in the entire Imperial Navy after all, even the Imperial-class Star Destroyers were equipped with second-class models. Quad turbolaser units, twin turbolaser units. Two squadrons of TIE fighters. Almost five thousand crew members, of which four hundred and two are artillerymen. Just over two thousand infantry, with a full complement of armored vehicles on board —walkers, droppods, transport ships... But as the pinnacle of military genius, only this type of ship carried on board the ultimate weapon of destruction — eighty launchers for proton torpedoes.

Such a fan of «troubles» if it happens to fall directly on one's head, will cause a huge number of problems.

It is not for nothing that both modifications of the victory were not written off as reserves when the Imperial ones became widespread. Yes, of course, the officers and crews of more powerful star destroyers stated that the only reason why the tiny victorys were not cut up was the need for someone to carry out patrol duty in remote sectors and hunt numerous pirates and robbers.

In part, perhaps this is so. But in one respect the crews of the victory were strikingly different from their «younger brothers» serving on the Imperials.

Mama's boys and other aristocratic upstarts, whose ranks grew less because of their services to the fatherland and more for political reasons, did not serve here. And even though everyone who had the honor of serving aboard the Victory knew that most likely their career would end on their first Star Destroyer, there was no one willing to shirk their duties.

—The reactor compartment reports its readiness,— the commander of the Crusader, I-Gor, walked along the central platform, dividing the ship's conning tower into two parts, in each of which there were officers responsible for one or another direction on the ship. An elderly man, but in the prime of his life, listened to the reports of the officers. And even though he was pleased with the clarity of the reports, as well as the content of the latter, he did not show it.

— The engine room is in full readiness! —said another officer.

— The artillery is combat-ready!

— Rocket launchers are normal!..

Commander of the victory I-class ISD "Crusader", captain I-Gor.

There were reports from every combat unit of the starship, and everyone, without exception, reported their excellent condition.

This is good.

The Crusader had not been on campaigns for quite a long time, much less in battles, so the best that the star destroyer commander could do now was to properly set up the crew.

After all, they have a mission ahead of them —not the banal patrol activity that they have been engaged in in recent weeks, while the Ubictorat fleet impressively drifted in the orbit of Tangrene, and then completely disappeared in an unknown direction.

No, this time the "Crusader" had the honor of demonstrating to the rebels that they are not so invulnerable, resting on their laurels in the Central Worlds.

Standing in front of the central transparisteel porthole of the control room, I-Gor put his hands behind his back, piercing his gaze into the blackness of space, in which an entire squadron of starships was approaching the Tangrene orbit in an uncertain formation. Considering that the Crusader was moving away from geostationary orbit, preparing to jump at the given coordinates, their sensors worked ahead of the curve. Planetary controllers are able to identify a target only when it enters orbit —if the system does not have sensor beacons. In this case, they were absent. Due to the fact that each of them cost millions of credits, the Ubiqtorate in the past did not particularly want or like to spend money on the needs of the fleet. So, a little help to the dispatchers will not be superfluous —especially in light of the fact that the ships are entering from the side of the system's star. That is, the crews of these starships did not want to directly be in Tangrene orbit. And this may turn out to be a surprise for everyone.

—Watchman— I-Gor turned to the officer responsible for the real watch. — Contact the control tower. Please let us know that we have unmarked marks on our scanners. Classified as twenty Tartan-class patrol cruisers, one DP-20-class frigate, two CR90-class corvettes. They do not show hostile intentions. With them are two nominally civilian vessels —modified and armed freighters. Accompanied by a Strike-class medium cruiser broadcasting valid Imperial identification codes, I-Gor glanced at the tactical monitor. —Correction —only three armed freighters. The latter arrived along an unknown trajectory. We are within striking distance of the enemy. —We are awaiting orders to respond. Prepare turbolasers, pilots take seats in fighters. "yellow" alert level! — the last two phrases were addressed directly to the ship's crew.

—The message has been sent,— the officer said. Literally a moment later, he reported:

— We received a response from the Chimera control center.

—Read it,— I-Gor ordered.

——The goals are friendly. Do not open fire. Continue with the mission,— the watch commander read. Looking up from the monitor, he said:

— Signed —Grand Admiral Thrawn.

He delivered the new information with some aspiration and even superstitious fear.

—Lieutenant,— I-Gor turned to the watch commander. — End of the "yellow" alarm. Are our guests from Imperial Intelligence on board?

—Yes, sir,— he reported.

— Have the jump coordinates been calculated? —I-Gor clarified. The watchman responded with another affirmative report. —Crew! Attention! Prepare to break the light barrier! Our raid behind enemy lines begins now.

A moment later, the gray hull of the Star Destroyer disappeared into the blackness of the hull, heading towards its target.

***

At this stage, I did not intend to inform Bravo-2 about the true reasons for the search for Captain Hoffner. There is no full trust in him at the moment.

But I trusted even less the various kinds of mercenaries who arrived on Tangrene along with the acquired ships. If for the imperials honor is not yet a completely empty phrase, then the mercenaries and pirates will break the agreement at the first sufficiently significant amount that covers what I am willing to pay them.

There was certainly a significant risk of betrayal by Imperial Intelligence operatives. So far I have no reason to trust them, so other people will take over the capture of Captain Hoffner. Sergius himself and his fighters will go on a secondary mission. It was not without reason that he was informed about the search for the culprit of the attack on the Ubiqtorate base a fairly simple way to force him to contact his command and report on the situation as a whole. Let's see if it works, or if this person still does not intend to betray me.

From the outside it seems like these are stupid games and a huge risk of failure.

But, after all, we are at war —risk is always an integral part of war. Moreover, in this case I had a safety net.

Reliable, like a Swiss watch.

As before, I sat in my cabin aboard the Chimera, looking at the holographic map of the galaxy. In addition to dividing territories into spheres of influence of states, in a number of places there were tiny points —places of deployment of our starships. A slight modification of the standard data visualization system. Only for me —no one else has such information. The computer makes calculations based on data about distance, the presence or absence of major and regional hyperspace routes, and so on.

And now one of them was moving along the dotted line towards the planet New Cov.

Not a single state in the galaxy, not even the Galactic Empire at the peak of its power, had the technology to close its borders. There are not enough ships and equipment to maintain operational formations somewhere in space, devoid of planets and stars, to maintain the impenetrability of borders. Therefore, standard tactics were based directly on patrolling hyperspace routes and creating fortified worlds —fortress planets, from where fleet ships could go to the rescue at any moment.

The only currently effective way to prevent an enemy ship from moving across its territory is interdiction cruisers, which, with the help of their gravitational field generators, are capable of creating an artificial area of ​​gravity in places where there was none before.

The technology for hyperspace travel in this galaxy was highly dependent on gravitational fields. The ships could not jump, overcoming the light barrier in the planets' gravitational zone, and could not continue their flight in the zone of its influence —the protection of the navigation computers was triggered, warning the ships from colliding with solid bodies. Quite... controversial point. Based on which it can be assumed that in this galaxy a starship moving at superluminal speed is still vulnerable to kinetic influence. Interesting moment. My knowledge of the astrophysics of my native universe is too superficial to judge the logic or absurdity of such a phenomenon; the phenomenon is critically small, so I'll have to take it on faith. And subsequently study this area of ​​science in a galaxy far, far away. This is what I actually do in my free time.

Hyperspace routes in a galaxy far, far away are like roads in the world I know. There are only five key «routes» in the galaxy —the Parlemian Trade Route, the Corellian Run, the Corellian Trade Spine, the Rimma Trade Route and the Hydian Way. As can be seen from most of the names, they were primarily created and served as trade relations at the dawn of the formation of a huge galaxy. They began to be used for the transport of troops already at a much later period, when certain territories of the galaxy began to rattle weapons. But these are just five main ones —there are thousands of times more secondary and regional routes. And some are completely unknown to most of the population of the galaxy.

Using hyperspace routes allows you to move around the galaxy much faster than flying directly from planet to planet. Highway driving and country road driving are the most appropriate comparisons to describe the option of using a hyperspace route or flying directly. Therefore, a collision arises —if the distance between two planets, say, a thousand light years «in a straight line» can be crossed (depending on the type of hyperdrive), say, in a week, then using a hyperspace route that runs «in a roundabout way» and along for which the distance is five to six times longer, you can achieve the desired goal in a couple of days. For some reason, at that moment I came up with a comparison about traveling between two settlements along a road that runs around the forest separating them and through the forest «directly».

One way or another, navigation computers and hyperdrives allow you to significantly speed up your movement around the galaxy. The higher the hyperdrive class, the faster the ship moves in hyperspace. Most starships in the galaxy have both a main hyperdrive —on the Chimera, for example, it is of the second class, and a spare one —of a much worse class, and its use significantly increases travel time.

Why not only install hyperdrives of the «normal» class on ships? Well, because it's insanely expensive. A significant part of the cost of battleships is precisely the cost of hyperdrives. The larger the ship that must be moved by such an installation, the larger the installation itself. Therefore, there is a linear relationship between the size of a starship and its hyperdrive. So, if the projection scale is correct, then the hyperdrive on the Chimera is the size of a nine-story building and this is only the installation itself, without taking into account the accompanying systems. It goes without saying that any freighter will not accommodate a similar hyperdrive and there it will be much smaller. But the freighter itself can sometimes be hundreds of times smaller than an imperial star destroyer.

If I understand correctly, moving between planets also includes the presence of departure coordinates —the starting point and arrival coordinates —the end point. The better the hyperdrive, the more intermediate coordinates it can calculate. Yes that's right. Another comparison with highways —to get from Vladivostok to Moscow, you will either have to enter some cities and towns along the road, or, if there are detours, rush past them. The second class of hyperdrive is inferior to the first only in the speed of movement, but works, in general, the same way. It costs orders of magnitude cheaper, and in terms of maintenance it is a little easier. Considering that the Empire, after its reorganization from the Galactic Republic, assumed that they would no longer have to play «races» with the shortfalls of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, «economists» from the Imperial Senate considered that it was easier to install second-class hyperdrives on battleships —cheaper, but , essentially the effect is the same.

This is precisely the main tendency of the imperials in the military-industrial aspect —cheaper, but more in quantity. The New Republic does the opposite, but I already mentioned that.

So, depending on the size, brand and class of the hyperdrive, it can calculate a certain route between the starting and ending points, including «intermediate coordinates» in it. The better the hyperdrive, the more of the latter you will miss, without the need to enter real space and adjust the course. On fighters of the Grand Army of the Republic equipped with a hyperdrive, this threshold was in most cases ten coordinates. Modern X-wings of the New Republic and their other spacecraft use much more advanced versions of hyperdrives, which allow pilots to make much longer jumps. The range of this depends directly on the volume of the fuel tank.

Another interesting point is that a ship in the process of a hyperjump can stop it at any time —both in known and unknown space for navigation. The latter is especially dangerous —outside of the studied hyperspace routes it can be so dangerous that there will not even be traces of this kind of «experimenters» left. Luckily for me, the region of space in which the ship I needed was located

Meanwhile, having once again looked at the dotted line indicating the movement of the "Crusader" he sighed and shifted his gaze a little «to the north» where there was another similar trajectory.

The decision is inconsistent and rather desperate, incompatible with the actions of Thrawn himself. But necessary.

Activating the holoprojector, I sent a call aboard the second ship, moving towards the planet Pantolomin.

—Grand Admiral Thrawn,— the commander of the Nemesis greeted me with a barely noticeable nod of his head.

—Captain Von Schneider,— the exchange of pleasantries was also part of the traditions of the Imperial Navy. —Plans changed. You are instructed to exit hyperspace as soon as possible and set a course for the planet Pantolomin in the Dolomar sector.

— Resort planet, sir? — the commander of the Nemesis clarified.

—That's right,— I confirmed. — At the underwater casino «Coral Vanda» there is a person who I need. His name is Captain Hoffner. This man was involved in the attack on the Ubiqtorate base on Tangrene. I need him alive. Special instructions —no one should know that you came directly for Hoffner. Our main enemy is the information trader. If he finds out the true purpose of our raid, he may understand that we intend to deprive the rebels of a valuable source of information. In his face. This can lead to irreparable consequences.

—I understand, sir,— the Nemesis commander assured me. —I will begin the mission immediately. Should I tell Mistress Jade about this?

Good question. Her participation is a great way to test loyalty. And at the same time, in case of failure, if Hoffner lets slip even for a moment that he actually knows about the location of the Katana fleet, Jade may act very rashly. What a pity that you can't be completely frank with anyone. We have to use —in the dark— until the coincidence of our interests is confirmed. Or should I still take the risk?

—That's right,— I said. —Send her and several stormtroopers under cover aboard Coral Vanda to search for and capture the target. As soon as you receive confirmation from them, arrange everything as a regular raid and robbery. I'm sure there are quite a few credits on board the Coral Vanda that will be useful to us.

Judging by the constriction on Von Schneider's face, he didn't really like the idea of ​​participating in the raid as a simple robber.

—I understand the order, sir,— he said. —Will you allow me to perform?

—Get started,— I said, turning off the holoprojector.

Well, bets are in, bets are no more.

—Grand Admiral, sir,— the comlink came to life in the voice of Captain Pellaeon. — The arriving ships were checked by inspection parties and do not pose a threat to us. They are ready to dock with the external components of the orbital repair shipyard for thorough inspection and necessary repairs. The mercenary ships are staying outside our guns for now in accordance with filtering protocol —until we determine that they pose no threat to us.

—Excellent, captain,— I said. arrange for this. And also inform Messrs. Ferrier and Vayne that I will meet with them in an hour.

—Yes, sir,— said Pellaeon.

—Captain,— I recalled the data from the report of Captain I-Gor. Okay, Gilad, if you haven't noticed this yourself, I'll do it for you. — Three civilian freighters have arrived. But we invited only two guests. Who's third?

—Just a minute, sir,— Pellaeon's voice sounded annoyed. —Our cryptographers are trying to verify his identification data. They are undoubtedly fake, we are looking for matches using engine signatures in the database... Ah! There's a clue! «Wild Ewok». Pirate ship. The captain is someone named Tyberos. Wanted for crimes across seventy sectors of the New Republic.

— Are there any messages from this ship? —I asked.

—No, sir,— replied Pellaeon. Quiet swearing was heard. Nothing drastic, just swearing. —Sorry, sir. Apparently, they realized that we had identified them. They send a message: arrived to work for the Empire. There is a signature of Captain Tyberos. Destroy the ship?

—No, captain,— I sighed. —Invite them all for a meeting at the Moff's residence on Tangrene. Without escort and weapons. Tell the Moff to arrange surveillance of their ships. And yes, arrange for a shuttle to be prepared for me. By the time of the meeting, I want to have information about our potential employee on hand.

***

There's something ironic about flying into the Imperial Moff's residence accompanied by a company of Imperial stormtroopers. But just six years ago, these guys were chasing him throughout the Mid Rim in the hope of properly punishing him for attacks on imperial aristocrats and pirate business. And at the moment, they themselves are offering jobs to those who until recently were considered trash. Moreover, if you believe the gossip in the pirate community, a pretty good reward was promised.

The commander of the "Wild Ewok" the pirate Tyberos.

However, if this is not the case, then you can always «go wild» —Tyberos has done absolutely nothing to the current imperial government. But the New Republic suffered greatly.

Looking at the poser and braggart Yazuo Vayne, as well as Niles Ferrier, who never stopped tarring his crappy cigar, Tyberos thought that turning the heads of these two annoying subjects would be a fairly easy way to make life easier.

But, apparently, they work for the Imperials. And Tyberos wanted to work for them. So, we'll have to accept the inevitable.

Therefore, he was glad that he was sitting in a respirator mask. Its history is quite interesting —it was received from a Mandalorian renegade warrior, whose skull was crushed in his youth, when he performed in the fighting pits at gladiator fights. Since then, he has not parted with his trophy. As with two claws made of an alloy of beskar and a number of other metals. His first battle trophies, which he has kept for more than ten years. Ever since he was left on the street, having lost his parents.

He found nothing remarkable in the imperial building where they were being taken. Simple, angular, made of gray duracrete. Boredom, in a word.

Tyberos practically did not react to the commands of the stormtroopers, without any participation he laid out from his things a couple of blasters, throwing knives, a flail with a folding handle, several grenades, another blaster, a mine, a stiletto, several fuses, a noose, and fighting gloves. It was only when they demanded that he surrender his main weapon, the Klevtsy, that he was not particularly happy. Looking at the stormtrooper, towering over the considerable size of the soldier in snow-white plastoid armor, he looked him up and down. Then he looked at a couple of soldiers nearby, pointing their blasters at him. Again at the stormtrooper standing in front of him. With a heavy sigh, very reminiscent of the hiss of the respirator of the late Darth Vader, who was an idol for him in some moments, he placed his weapon on the table next to the metal detector. He obediently walked under the scanners, wincing as they beeped.

The stormtroopers tensed, instantly moving a few meters away from him and raising their blasters in unison so that he would be in the crossfire if it came to a firefight. Judging by the sounds, Niles Ferrier, standing not far from him, fouled the air. Yazuo Vayne pointedly held his nose.

—Weapons on the table! —the stormtrooper demanded. all!

—What a weapon this is,— Tyberos said peacefully, taking out several more vibroknives from the secret pockets of his shabby vest. —Just pickers to scratch back.

—More,— demanded the stormtrooper. It's unlikely that he knew for sure, but he certainly guessed that things weren't so simple with his secret weapon. Looks like these guys are smarter than they seem at first glance.

Tyberos defiantly raised his leg, shod in an armored boot, after which he pulled out another pair of throwing knives from the boot. Without waiting for the stormtrooper's epiphany, he pulled out another blaster from his second boot. And only after the attack aircraft did not even try to move or lower the weapon, he unhooked the soles from both boots, demonstrating that he also left custom-made portable mines.

—This is all? — the stormtrooper clarified.

—If you want, you can crawl under my trousers and look for a large-caliber gun,— suggested Tyberos, openly enjoying the fact that the stormtrooper did not understand humor.

—Either you yourself will remove the blasters from a secret holster, or we will do this, but from your corpse,— the stormtrooper warned. Judging by the markings —the colored shoulder pad —he is clearly the commander of these snow-white assholes.

—Okay, okay,— Tyberos assured him. —Just do not to cry, «pupa», okay? (no other way to translate this)

The stormtrooper commander pretended not to notice the insult.

Republican fighters called the latter «pupas» in mockery of the identical armor of stormtroopers. They say that someday the soldiers of the Stormtrooper Corps will crawl out of their cocoons and turn into excellent targets for rebel blasters.

Seeing that the stormtroopers were not ready to continue practicing humor, Tyberos defiantly unfastened his waist belt and put his hand into his pants. Having touched the right holster, secured between the legs, where even during a routine search the security officers tried not to go, there were secret blasters —small ones, also called «lady farts». But if they are thoroughly modernized, their power is excellent.

Having unloaded his weapon from both his right and left holsters, the pirate smiled.

—If you want, you can check for yourself whether I left anything unnecessary there,— he suggested.

—Walk,— the stormtrooper took a step to the side, nodding his head over his shoulder. There, where the narrow corridor went. —You two,— he turned his gaze to Ferrier and Vayne, —too.

Accompanied by several stormtroopers, they were directed along the corridor to some room, next to which another squad of «pupas» was located. Hmm, who are they so afraid of?

—Captain Tyberos,— said one of the stormtroopers standing at the door. Addressing the pirate. — you are waited. 

—What should we wait? —Niles Ferrier muttered with a claim to his opinion.

—Yes,— the stormtrooper answered laconically. —Wait.

Looking at the losers with mockery, the pirate stepped through the door that opened in front of him.

The room he found himself in did not have the usual brightness for the Imperials. The lighting panels are deliberately dimmed so that twilight falls on the corners of the room. Tyberos had no doubt that some surprises were deliberately hidden in these dark recesses, like secret guards or bodyguards of the intelligent one he intended to meet. But these are clearly not stormtroopers —even in the semi-darkness their snow-white armor would be visible.

—Have a seat, captain,— through the twilight one can make out a rectangular table, at which sat a reasonable one in an officer's uniform of the empire. Judging by the snow-white jacket, it's clear that someone imagines himself to be a grand admiral. Yeah, this guy has a lot of self-importance. After all, everyone knows that twelve of Palpatine's guard dogs were killed by the rebels. However, ambition prevailed among the Imperial military after the Battle of Endor. And what, exactly, is the difference?

Tyberos walked over to the only unoccupied chair and sat down on it, crossing his legs.

—So? — he asked with a slight mockery. —What's next?

—I'm interested in the same question, captain,— the unknown intelligent said in an insinuating but authoritative tone. —What's next?

—I would like to get a job,— Tyberos shrugged.

— Is the Imperial base on Tangrene like a recruitment agency? — the stranger clarified.

—Judging by the fact that the Empire is spreading information that it hires pirates and smugglers, yes,— the criminal grinned. as I heard, you need privateers.

— And from whom did you receive such intriguing information? asked the unknown person.

—Rumours,— the pirate explained. —Here and there. They say that the Empire gave the rebels a hard time in the Dafilvean sector. This is great news. Worthy of my interest in your proposal.

and what are your motives, captain? — asked the owner of the white jacket.

—I love my craft,— said Tyberos. and when, in addition to the reward at the trough itself, they also pay extra for it, that's generally wonderful.

—Indeed? — the unknown person specified. —Is there anything else you want to say?

—I want to,— said Tyberos. all this semi-darkness annoys me.

—It would seem —for what reason? — the unknown man grinned. — After all, your mask is equipped with night vision.

—It's not for nothing that Imperial Intelligence receives its allowance,— Tyberos laughed. — Although they are not finishing it —the mask is broken. The visor processor failed in one of the last battles, so, as you can see, I am without such miracles. And its repair is very, very expensive. I hope you will give me an advance so that I can repair it.

— Are you so sure that you will be provided with work? —the stranger was surprised.

— Why, actually, not «yes»? —Tyberos was surprised. — Rumors that a certain imperial military leader dislikes the rebels so much that he is ready to give them a «light» at any opportunity is not such a secret. A series of raiding operations a couple of months ago. Attack on the rebel base on the planet Ord Pardon. And even bombing with asteroids —you definitely dislike the current owners of Coruscant. I admit, me too. Therefore, I am ready to hunt their transport starships and diplomatic ships for a small amount of credits. I heard they have a bad habit of using disarmed combat starships as cargo ships. I've always wanted a Mon Calamari star cruiser.

— And I thought your biggest dream was to become a champion in gladiator battles throughout the Outer Ring,— the unknown person noted. Tyberos narrowed his eyes. — As you can see, Imperial Intelligence really doesn't get its salary for nothing.

— Have you decided to show off your erudition? —Tyberos chuckled.

—If I wanted this, I would tell you the facts from your biography,— the unknown person calmly noted. — About how your father, a gladiator in illegal battles, was stripped of all his titles and expelled in disgrace. And only because he lost in battle to Aurra Sing. It is curious that later it was she who became your mother. I still think you shouldn't have hidden from your employer that your desire to slaughter the rebels arose because of the murder of your parents a little over seven years ago. After all, it was then that you began your activities as a gladiator, and after the murder of your parents during one of the Rebel Alliance operations in the Outer Rim, you switched from robbing Imperial outposts and convoys to striking at the rebels. I won't be mistaken if I say that you stopped your activities because your ship was badly damaged during the last battle and now you need help in order to restore your warship and continue to play on the nerves of the rebels?

—You know a lot,— Tyberos remarked. He felt neither anger nor irritation from what he heard. I've been sick for a long time. And his mother... taught him a lot. However, she is not the only one.

—On the contrary,— noted the reasonable one sitting opposite. —Something that particularly interests me remains a mystery to me.

—So I understand that you won't make a secret of your interest? — the pirate asked the unknown person.

—Of course not,— he said. —Tell me, Captain Tyberos, have you inherited Force sensitivity from your mother?

The pirate felt everything inside him go cold. Wanted to swear dirty. But he tried to remain calm. Instead, he tried to concentrate, as his mother and Emand had taught him, to penetrate the mind of his interlocutor, to understand what he wanted from him —to hire or continue the glorious work of the Inquisitorium, to hunt for the weak gifted...

But instead of a confusion of thoughts, he only came across the fact that, in principle, he could not sense the presence of a living, intelligent being in front of him. It was as if there was a droid sitting in front of him... No, not like that. Droids can also be felt. If only there is Force here!

The pirate tried to direct his feeble efforts to the space around him... And he realized that he was in a room where, with the exception of a tiny space located literally where he was sitting, the Force seemed to be absent.

—I see you've already figured it out, Captain Tyberos,— the light in the room slowly began to gain strength. The pirate covered his eyes with his palm, which allowed him to avoid instant blindness. Squinting, he discovered a man sitting opposite him... No, not a man!

Very similar to a human, but with a blue skin tone and glowing scarlet eyes. In the arms of this sentient, a lizard was dozing rhythmically, which the imperial stroked on its belly, like a pet.

Tyberos realized that the last conclusion was not actually like that when he looked around —in the former dim corners there were cages with the same creatures. And in one corner a gray-skinned humanoid with his jaw thrust forward was squatting. Looks like a bodyguard, and even with a weapon.

«What kind of menagerie is this»? — the pirate was taken aback. There was little that could throw him off balance. But the fact of not being able to use the Force was scary. Yes, he is weak and, unlike the Jedi and Sith of the past, he could not use it constantly. No matter how much Emand struggled with his training after the death of his mother, nothing worked out. Apparently he is not that «gifted».

—I don't think an answer is required, right, Grand Admiral? —Tyberos asked.

—Not required,— he confirmed. — So I understand that the Force helps you in your activities?

— A little,— said Tyberos. Apparently, the Imperial did not know about Emand's existence. Well, that's good. I wouldn't want to expose my old friend. —So what now? Will you kill me?

—For what? — the blue-skinned «man» was surprised.

—The Empire hated the Jedi,— Tyberos noted. —My mother feared all her life that the inquisitors would come for her.

—But didn't come? — the imperial clarified.

—No,— the pirate agreed.

—Have you decided to become a Jedi? —he asked a new question.

—Nope,— Tyberos broke into a grin. —Vice versa. I dream of meeting them face to face someday and...

— And? — the imperial looked at him with curiosity.

—... break their skulls,— Tyberos finished.

— And what is the reason for such an attitude towards them? — the non-human seemed interested.

—I hate Jedi,— Tyberos explained. —Mother hated it, and I hate it. But they seem like good hunting targets to me.

—How about that? —The blue-skinned man grinned. —So why haven't you dealt with Luke Skywalker yet?

—Someday,— the pirate shrugged. —I'm too weak in Force to fight him on equal terms. But if I get my hands on some knowledge of the Sith or ancient Jedi, then we'll see who wins.

—Well, the answer is accepted,— said the exotic. —However, let's get back to discussing the reason why you are here.

—Yes, it wouldn't hurt,— Tyberos grinned. —So, do I have a privateer patent?

—You will receive it,— said the Imperial. —But only if we agree on the terms of cooperation. Otherwise, I'm not interested in you.

«What a funny imperial» the pirate chuckled to himself.

— And what will the conditions be? —he asked.

—Don't rush,— Thrawn advised. —This concerns not only you, but also the rest of our guests. However, I must admit, you intrigued me. What would you say if I told you that I have a way to teach you the Jedi arts?

—If you now pull out your lightsaber and start levitating, I admit that the Empire has something to surprise me with,— Tyberos chuckled. However, remembering Emand's warnings, he added:

—I'm afraid I have to refuse. I'm happy with what I already have. I am sure that your proposal will be burdensome for me. I prefer to act like an ordinary corsair. Damn lucky, but a corsair. I'm not interested in becoming a Jedi.

—Well, that's your business,— said the Grand Admiral. There was some disappointment in his voice. —If you think about it, contact me.

—Definitely,— Tyberos almost laughed. But he continued to remain calm.

—Now call Messrs. Ferrier and Vayne here, and make yourself comfortable,— said the non-man. —Let's talk about business.

***

It's a damn shame that this guy just thinks he can trick me.

An offer to study is nothing more than a test. It goes without saying that I am not going to give a two-meter giant who looks like a man with gray-green skin (I wonder who his father was if his son turned out to be that color?), and even with some kind of sensitivity to the Force. And even though he is now sitting in his cabin, in the range of the Ysalamiri, I hope that the old clone could not figure out a way to bypass their influence. He's somehow quieted down lately. Somehow he didn't even want to be interested in the reason why his abilities didn't work on Wayland. I wonder if the madman has already figured out that this is connected with ysalamiri or not? I'll have to check it out when the opportunity arises.

Looking at the trio of criminals sitting in front of me, I threw it at Captain Pellaeon standing next to me.

—Go ahead,— I allowed.

—So, gentlemen,— the Chimera commander cleared his throat, starting to improvise. — The Empire offers you privateer patents...

—Pass right away,— said —Sniff. —I'm a car thief, not a thug.

—Rukh,— I said quietly. The gray-skinned bodyguard rose behind the hijacker, defiantly cutting off some of his stubble with his blade.

—The next time you want to interrupt an Imperial officer,— I said softly, —will be your last, Monsieur Ferrier. Take my word for it —my patience with you tends to rapidly diminish. There will be no more educational conversations with you. It is clear?

—Y-yes,— the hijacker nodded his head energetically.

—Excellent,— I smiled. — As moral compensation, we will thank you for giving one of the CR90 corvettes to the Empire for free.

Ferrier ground his teeth, but remained silent. I wonder how many times this technique will work? And why doesn't the hijacker just leave? Probably his business on the market for selling stolen ships is not very good.

— Therefore, I suggest you leave our meeting and go to inspect the ships you brought,— I suggested. —Given your exceptional audacity, the settlement with you in this transaction will be based on the subtraction of the cost of ships repairs from a third of the market value of the hijacked starship.

—Not a ship, but ships? —Ferrier clarified, wincing.

—That's right,— I said. —Objections?

—Nothing,— the chubby man smiled tensely and walked dejectedly to the exit of the room.

After the door closed behind him, I turned my gaze to a couple of pirates, sincerely happy to see the hijacker leave.

—Go on, captain,— I suggested. — As close as possible to the text of the patent.

—So,— said Pellaeon, spitting aside the rules of decency and his own pride began to read from the deck the draft privateering patent I had developed. —You are invited to become privateers in the service of Grand Admiral Thrawn,— the pirates looked at each other. It looks like they caught the subtext of clarifying the work for me personally. — The target of privateering is any military and merchant ships of the rebels calling themselves the —New Republic— and their allies, as well as their infrastructure. You are prohibited from conducting privateering or other illegal activities on the territory of Imperial Space... the captain paused. He looked at me, then again at the text, sighed, making up his mind —until you receive the appropriate order. Damage to your ships received during military operations will be repaired at the imperial shipyards for a proportionate part of your fee. You are instructed to deliver captured ships for inspection by the prize court to places indicated to you by your coordinators. After inspecting the ships and assessing the cargo they carry, you will be paid half the cost of the starship and its cargo.

Actually, this is almost all that I could come up with, drawing from my memory my knowledge from the past of my home world. Somehow I didn't go deeper into this topic.

—Now you can ask questions,— I suggested.

— Is this how you and your subordinates will evaluate the captured «prizes»? —Captain Taberos clarified.

—The prize court will be headed by the Moff of the planet we are on,— I said. —He and his specialists will evaluate the ships and goods you have delivered. Accordingly, if you do not agree with their assessment, please provide information indicating the discrepancy. Corresponding to official markets, of course.

—Uh-uh,— Yazuo Vayne scratched behind his sharp ear. —Forgive my darkness, of course, but... why should we engage in piracy for you if we can calmly continue such activities on our own?

—To begin with, Captain Vayne,— said Pellaeon, —our intelligence will provide you with the data we have on the movements of enemy convoys, the composition of their escorts and their combat value. Without such information, any of your raids on enemy transports of this kind will be tantamount to suicide. Even though your gang is large, I can bet my salary that if I encounter several cruisers, and especially if there is a interdictor cruiser, your fleet and its crews will suffer significant losses. While we can not only provide you with comprehensive information on large convoys, but we ourselves will, if necessary, send our starships to hold off the enemy's linear starships, while your people rob transport and take them right out from under the noses of the rebels.

—What prevents us from simply attacking single ships or small convoys that we can handle? —Captain Tyberos asked a question.

— And how soon will the rebel search ships follow your trail? —I clarified. at the moment, they are strengthening the escort of their starships, and therefore, single and small pirate squadrons will either be left without prey or will be killed.

—The galaxy is big,— Vayne said meaningfully. — There will always be a rogue trader...

—No one limits you in your independent search for goals, gentlemen,— I noted. — The main thing is that they are not imperial. This is purely your initiative. You will earn ten, twenty thousand credits from his cargo,— I continued. and you will end up with more problems than you can solve. While I am ready to help you get rid of both the «tails» and the problems from the imperial government. You will become official privateers and will no longer be pursued in Imperial Space. Neither you nor those who follow your example and even if this is only written with a pitchfork on the water, I don't think that the Imperial Ruling Council, receiving a small «share»— from the pirate enterprise, will be disappointed. Because the caravans of the New Republic are valued at tens, or even hundreds of millions of credits. And now the conversation is primarily about the cargo they transport. Nobody even mentions ships with such assessments.

—So I understand that you will take the warships for yourself without any compensation in our direction? —Captain Tyberos clarified.

—If you and your people take part in his capture, then you will be entitled to a reward commensurate with the costs and losses,— I explained. —If we act on our own, then the prey, like its cargo, is ours. The patent applies exclusively to joint operations or your individual activities. Military starships of imperial design and construction are categorically transferred to our protectorate. And you, accordingly, are entitled to compensation for your efforts.

-What about the crews of captured ships? asked Captain Vayne.

— According to the terms of the privateer's patent, they are prisoners of war and must be handed over to us as soon as you reach the meeting place,— I said calmly. Judging by the looks of both pirates, they are somewhat disappointed. But Pellaeon nods his head approvingly. —Those that survive the boarding, of course. No one is asking you to sacrifice your people in order to capture more prisoners. If there is an attempt to rebel during the ferrying of ships, the same applies. I think it's worth making a reservation right away —violation of any clause of a privateer's patent will, depending on the severity of the violation, be punishable by part of your share or the death penalty.

An extra precaution in case the noble pirates suddenly consider the living crew an annoying obstacle to the transfer of crews to our side. Why not just kill them all? It's very simple —the officers of any captured ship are a valuable source of information. And also free labor.

—Slick,— Captain Vayne grinned. — That is, do I understand correctly that first of all we should capture, and not destroy, ships of the New Republic?

—You understand correctly,— I agreed. — As already mentioned, at this difficult time for their logistics, our enemy also uses warships for his own purposes.

—Yes,— the half-breed scratched his ear. —What about the cargo? Can we buy back part of the captured cargo from you if we need it?

—Yes, you can,— I agreed. —In the event that this cargo is not military grade and we do not need it. In this case, we reserve the right to take back the military loads as our share of the stock.

— How will especially valuable information be paid for? —Captain Tyberos asked.

—In proportion to their value,— I replied. and only if they were not obtained from prisoners of war after the capture of ships.

—Judging by the fact that you personally issue privateer patents,— said Yazuo Vayne, —the rest of the Imperial Remnants are not aware of such an initiative. The question is looming —how quickly will we be sent to Kessel if we find ourselves in Imperial Space outside your spheres of influence?

—I think it was clearly told to you that the territory of the Empire is closed to your «trade»,— I said a little more harshly. —For attacking imperial ships and territories, you will be executed as soon as my ships find you. No negotiations, repentance or apologies —justice is here and now. It is enough that you will also act on tips from Imperial Intelligence.

— Do I understand correctly —providing us with such information will also entail receiving your share of the cargo and ships, even if you did not participate in the raid? — Vayne clarified.

—If we provide you with information, then we are already participating,— I noted. — If you don't want to share, then look for goals yourself. In the latter case, the loot, with the exception of warships and crew, is purely yours, and we will buy it back from you if we need it.

— So I understand that, as in the case of ships, you will not give the full market value for «prizes»? — Vayne clarified.

— As in the case of stolen ships, the valuation will be based on half the market value of the «prize»,— I explained. —In favor of reducing the cost for each damage. That's why the chief engineer from our shipyard will be in the prize court —his people will have to fix the damage.

—Let's summarize,— suggested Captain Teberos. —Everything we loot from the rebels will have only half the value. We act on your tip or with your participation —you take part of the «prize» for yourself. You take all the warships and cargo for yourself permanently, and you pay us no more than half of their market value.

—So far everything is correct,— I said. —If something doesn't suit you, you are free to leave.

—No,— Tyberos grinned. —Everything suits me just fine. Rarely does anyone pay the full cost of goods and ships obtained through criminal means. Half is quite a lot of money. Especially if you work on a big scale. The question is different —who will sell goods that neither you nor we will need?

—There is no such thing as unnecessary cargo,— I noted, thinking that in our sector there was a convenient port where any cargo could be sold. The main thing is to have such a person (or —not really a person —who can do this without attracting attention). —In any case, if such a situation occurs, we will resolve it amicably. Are there any other questions?

— Will other pirates or pirate groups be involved in privateering? — Yazuo Vayne asked.

— Are you afraid of competition? —Captain Pelelon clarified with a slight mockery.

—I'm afraid that our agreement will become known from unreliable elements,— an eloquent glance towards the departed Ferrier. and then the New Republic will be honored to equip a battle group for our souls.

—So much the worse for them,— I said calmly. —If you can lure the rebel ships into an ambush, honor and praise be to you.

— And yet, I don't trust Ferrier,— Tyberos said openly. —Slippery guy. More than once he had been caught stealing the ships of another for the sake of one group. If they press him and offer him a lot of money, he will easily rat us all out.

—Of course,— I smiled. —Mister Ferrier loves only two things in this life. Money is the first one.

—Which one is the second one? — Yazuo Vayne asked with a smile.

—His own life,— I said coldly. — And right now it is under a big question.

The smiles on the pirates' faces became very wide. And happy.