Walking almost silently along a path winding between buildings, Ahsoka, trying not to take her eyes off the prisoner, was nevertheless miles away in her thoughts.
Just yesterday, her world had collapsed. Exile, the loss of her master, and the meaning of life…
And already this morning, as dawn was barely breaking, after spending the rest of the night in a stupor, her fate had taken a radical turn.
As soon as she woke up, she almost immediately sensed an incredibly powerful Force-sensitive being in the room with her. Half-asleep, the girl was delighted, thinking her former teacher was nearby! Only he possessed such a level of Force.
Turning her head, she stared in surprise at the familiar armored Jedi sitting in a chair by her bed. The girl listened to her feelings and realized she wasn't mistaken. All that power emanated from the Jedi Master. But she had never felt anything like that in his presence before!
"Awake? Good," Dougan leaned slightly forward. "There's something you need to hear…"
He spoke for a long time. And with every minute, the girl felt shivers running down her spine. With each new fact — bigger than the last.
At first, she thought the Jedi was joking. The attack on the Temple and the theft of the holocrons were the work of his subordinates? So her exile was also a consequence of his actions. But why?!
The man answered that question too. And every single one that arose in the girl's mind. Without concealment, he told her everything.
About the fate that awaited the Jedi Order.
About her former master's role in the deaths of her brothers- and sisters-in-arms. And even the younglings.
About the terror and fear that the Sith would unleash upon the galaxy.
About the numerous wars, conflicts, billions of casualties.
About the invasion of beings from outside the galaxy and the long, grueling struggle against them.
The Jedi (though what right did he have to call himself that?!) continued his story with tales of yet another Sith attempt to restore their Empire.
And finally, he outlined to the girl his desire to put an end to the conflicts in the galaxy.
When he finished, he placed his hands on his knees and interlaced his fingers. His entire posture indicated a waiting stance. He wanted an answer to a question that hadn't been asked.
"I don't know what reaction you expect from me," she snapped, turning away from the man. "You should be turned over to the Order Council and tried. You, not the Sith, are the main threat to the galaxy and the Jedi."
"Strangely enough, I don't intend to dissuade you from that," Dougan said unexpectedly. "I have a request."
"I'm not going to do anything for you!" the girl declared.
"And yet, I'm going to make it," the man insisted. "Last night, the daughters of the ruler of Pantora were kidnapped. You know Senator Chuchi, don't you? You don't have to answer; I know you do. Oli and one of my assistants will be going on a mission to free them."
"Why would you help the Pantorans?"
"Because I can. And also, a significant factor — the Order refused to intervene in this matter, considering the kidnapping of children an insignificant problem to get involved in."
"You're lying! The Council couldn't have!"
"Check for yourself," the man shrugged. "Baron Papanoida is expecting the assistants I promised by nine in the morning standard time. Do you think he would lie to you?"
"And what if what you said is the truth?"
"I'm asking you to join the mission to rescue the Chairman's daughters. And after that — if you don't want to join me, you're free to do whatever you wish."
The girl stared at the man suspiciously. There had to be a trick in his words. He, the author of such a large-scale plan, wouldn't take such a risk for no reason.
"I won't be much use," the Togruta declared. "I don't even have a weapon."
"That can be arranged," Dougan pointed to a small table next to her bed. Turning her head, Ahsoka was surprised to see two lightsaber hilts. Completely unlike her own weapons.
"I'd be happy to talk with you a little longer," the man stood up and walked toward the exit. "But I have business to attend to."
Sure that he had turned his back to her, Ahsoka leaped out from under the covers like lightning, pulling the weapons toward her with the Force. One of the hilts fit perfectly into her small hands. The room filled with the sound of an activated lightsaber.
"Thinking of killing me?" the man asked, turning his head slightly toward her.
"I would very much like to!" the girl hissed through her teeth. Holding the snow-white-silver blade before her face in her usual reverse grip, the Togruta wasn't lying. She indeed felt there was no point in trying to capture the man. She already suspected he had been hiding his true power in the Force all this time. It wasn't certain that he wasn't masking even greater potential now. It was simply too dangerous to leave him alive.
But something held her back, preventing her from attacking. Ahsoka caught herself thinking that, in reality, Dougan's actions made sense. As one of the probable lines of development of events. Even the theft of the holocrons, after his confession, she perceived as the right decision — in that case, at least they wouldn't fall into the hands of the Sith. One of whom was destined to become her former master.
Ahsoka barely believed that. Sure, Skywalker held radical views and often acted against the Code. But falling to the Dark Side? Killing children?
No, she didn't believe that.
"I know," Dougan said calmly, turning to face her. "Your emotions betray you. If you allow, I will teach you to be strong."
"And serve the Dark Side? No thanks, I'll pass!"
"To adhere to Balance in the Force," the man corrected her. "To draw energy from the Unified Force, without dividing it into two crude sides. To realize and master your own potential and use it for the good of the galaxy."
"Which by that time will be under your heel?" the girl squinted. "Never!"
"It's sad to hear that," the man admitted. "But we'll talk after we get back. You'll have time to think it all over. Lady Atroxa will give you some appropriate clothes — you're not going to rescue anyone in just your underwear, are you?"
The Lethan Twi'lek who ran the household turned out to be a friendly and attentive hostess. Ahsoka felt the Dark Side energy emanating from her, but like Oli, she chose not to voice her thoughts. It wasn't time yet. She needed to understand what was happening and only then act.
Baron Papanoida confirmed Dougan's words. The Council had indeed not taken up the case of the kidnapped girls. And that stung the former Padawan a bit.
The blood found on one of the figurines led them to Greedo — a Rodian bounty hunter who, according to Lady Atroxa, was based on Tatooine. At the same time, the Twi'lek was sure that one of Papanoida's daughters might be aboard a ship blockading Pantora. Where she got this information, she didn't bother to say. But Ahsoka guessed without explanation that Rick Dougan had a hand in unraveling this crime.
Their small group had to split up to get to both places at once. Oli, with whom the Togruta hadn't had a chance to talk properly, left for Pantora in the company of Senator Chuchi.
She herself, along with Lady Atroxa, headed to Tatooine.
It wasn't that Jabba Desilijic Tiure, the head of the criminal organization controlling vast territories of the Outer Rim, was glad to see such guests. After hearing their suspicions about his involvement in the kidnapping of the Chairman's daughters, the Hutt just laughed. However, upon hearing from the Twi'lek exactly whom they represented, he changed his mind about dropping them into the rancor pit. And ordered his underlings to bring the Rodian, who, apparently, had decided to "make some extra money on the side," bypassing his master's main rule — to receive money and jobs only from Jabba himself.
He didn't hold out for long — Atroxa only had to cut off one of his fingers with a lightsaber for the mercenary to start talking. He gave a detailed and thorough account of who had hired him and why. Where the prisoners were being held. And who else was involved in his sideline work.
As a farewell, the Hutt asked Atroxa to convey his boundless respect to Grand Moff Dougan. And that only further convinced the young Togruta that the Plan the man had spoken of was actually far more multifaceted than it had seemed to her at first.
Anakin had told her that Hutts were extremely vile and utterly cruel creatures who cared nothing for human lives. Only personal profit. They respected strength, and there was hardly a person or organization in the galaxy capable of making them obey.
So her former master had been wrong. Such strength had been found.
Ahsoka had heard that Dougan had managed to forge a treaty of alliance between the Republic and the Hutts. The latter were putting in enormous effort and spending millions of credits setting up refugee camps in various corners of the Outer Rim and participating in restoration work on worlds destroyed during the war. Activity fundamentally uncharacteristic of Hutts. Under other circumstances, the Order would certainly have investigated this suspicious activity. But now, in the thick of the war, the Jedi were busy on the battlefields.
"What thoughts are tormenting you, little Togruta?" Lady Atroxa's voice broke into her reflections.
"I… a lot on my mind," the girl tried to avoid answering.
"I understand," the Lethan smiled. Noticing that the Rodian had slowed down and was trying to look around, she gave him a hard slap on the back of the head. Hissing in pain, the mercenary returned to a brisk pace. "I experienced something similar after my captivity on Korriban."
"And how did you cope?" Ahsoka inquired.
"They tortured me," the Lethan shrugged. "For years. They shattered my consciousness and glued it back together. Relentless ideological indoctrination. When I tried to resist, they tortured my body. And it all repeated, over and over…"
"Brrr," picturing the scene, the Togruta couldn't suppress a nervous shiver. "So I'm lucky that Dougan just talked to me…"
"Indeed?" the Twi'lek smiled. "He… is much better than the one whom I and the other Hands served before."
"Really? It seems to me that someone who plans a war across an entire galaxy can't be better than anyone."
The Twi'lek laughed.
"Believe me, if you'd met Vitiate, you'd pray to all your gods to get as far away from him as possible. He was the real monster. At least, he was."
"And what did he do?"
"Sucked the life out of several planets for the sake of his immortality," Atroxa began listing. "Started a War between the largest states in the galaxy for total extermination, intending to reshape the Unknown Regions to his own taste. Should I go on?"
"Well," Ahsoka swallowed the lump rising in her throat. "Compared to him, Dougan really is just a dear."
"See," the Lady Sith smiled. "It's not all as bad as you think."
"Mass murder and war are not the way of the Light Side."
"The Emperor isn't an adherent of the Light alone," the Lethan corrected the girl. "He doesn't limit himself in the tools to achieve his goal. Balance in the Force is our philosophy, which has its roots in the distant past. And it's the only one that truly serves the greater good, not the selfish motives of specific Orders."
"Yes, he mentioned that. The Order of the Je'daii," Ahsoka recalled. "I'm not sure I'm ready to just abandon my principles and learn to shoot Lightning or indulge in anger."
"I would be immensely surprised if you immediately accepted the new philosophy," the Lady admitted. "All of this is too fundamental to act rashly. It takes time."
"No, I really understand the need to put an end to all wars and disagreements," the girl said. "But is that even possible?"
"The Lord's motives are, of course, idealistic — conflict is inherent in the nature of beings," Atroxa acknowledged. "However, uniting the galaxy under the rule of one thoughtful and active leader, protected by an army and fleet ready to intervene in any illegal actions and nip them in the bud — isn't that enough motivation for the galaxy to take the blinders off?"
"Enforcing peace under the threat of military intervention?" Ahsoka flared up. "That's barbaric! Such actions will only turn those you intend to bring to peace against you."
"Actually," Greedo unexpectedly piped up for both of them. "There's sense in her words. Many races respect strength greater than their own. Mandalorians, Vikuei, Hutts, Rodians, Duros, Barabels, Trandoshans…"
"No one asked you," Ahsoka snapped. "How much farther?"
"One more block," Greedo said with a drooping head.
"Then get moving," Atroxa advised. "But for the solidarity — thanks."
"It won't give me back my finger," the mercenary snarled.
"But it'll teach you not to talk back to those who are stronger," Atroxa remarked. "You said it yourself — your kind respects Strength."
"And I do too!" the green-skinned one squeaked. "You don't need to kill me!"
"Once we're done with the hostages, we'll revisit this issue," the Twi'lek promised. However, Ahsoka was sure — the Rodian wouldn't survive the night.
Still, he had confirmed the Twi'lek's words.
The galaxy truly respected strength and decisiveness. The problem was that neither the Jedi Order nor the Republic itself operated that way. They treated the symptoms of problems but rarely ever reached the root of the issue. At a time when the Separatist question should have been dealt with radically, the Republic was waging a bloody war. And yet, even Anakin had said that if they concentrated all their forces, the fleet could break through enemy lines and crush their strategic centers. Then the war would be over in a few months.
Unfortunately, despite commanding an enormous number of shipyards and factories, the Republicans couldn't afford such a risky idea, constrained as they were by the opinions of Senators and politicians who understood nothing of war. Still, they held the military back, dictating their will. And that only prolonged the conflict, during which millions of citizens died.
The girl caught herself thinking that, despite her intuitive objections, she agreed with Atroxa. A strong, centralized authority with the constant backing of the army — that was a guarantee of stability. How many problems could have been avoided if the Republic had armed forces and knew how to use them? Would piracy and smuggling have flourished? Would the Trade Federation and the Banking Clan have been able to maintain their own armed forces? Because those had only appeared among private entities as a response to the lawlessness happening all around! Would that lawlessness have even existed in the first place? How many sentients would have turned to violence and crime if they knew that combat groups would be on their trail with no mercy shown? And there would be an honest, impartial court — not years-long legal battles where the one with more money and connections always won.
While they were flying here, Atroxa had told her about the first Eternal Empire, practically a utopian state where Force adepts stood guard over the law. Where droid armies worked for the good of the population, who lived in prosperity and peace. She told her about the Eternal Fleet, which for centuries safeguarded peace and tranquility in the state and later kept both the Republic and the Sith Empire under control, receiving tribute from them in exchange for security. Yes, there were terrible pages in history — when Arcann, the son of the Immortal Emperor, seized the throne. And then utopia turned into a nightmare for years — until the Hero of Tython subdued that power and brought peace back to the galaxy. And who had broken that peace? The Republic and the Sith Empire, Darkness and Light, who cannot coexist knowing of each other's existence. But centuries of peace and prosperity under the Eternal Empire of Zakuul confirmed Dougan's concept — by serving the unitary Force, its adepts could establish order in the galaxy. Or at least in some part of it.
Ahsoka felt a wave of heat wash over her.
Was this real? Had she actually come to the conclusion that despotism was the best thing this galaxy had in store?
Where had that come from in her head? Maybe she was just succumbing to someone's influence?
Or maybe...
The Togruta went cold.
Or maybe, no longer bound by obligations to the Order, freed from the burden of dogma and the Jedi Code, she was actually starting to think for herself. And beyond the Jedi worldview, it turned out the galaxy really did need a strong hand?!
The young Togruta never got the chance to finish working through that question.
"It's here," Grido said, pointing at an unassuming, typically Tatooine-style building. "One of the Pantorans is inside. But you need me!"
"What for?" the Twi'lek asked, not understanding, examining her lightsaber in her hands.
"If you show up there without me, they'll suspect something's wrong!" the Rodian babbled quickly. "But this way, I'll say you're CIS representatives transporting a hostage..."
"Hmph," the Lady Sith uttered. "Well, let's try. You do realize your chances are inversely proportional to the number of problems we run into?"
"Yes, yes, yes," the Rodian faltered. "So, are we going?"
Without a word, the Twi'lek shoved the prisoner in the back — go on. Throwing a quick glance at the Togruta, the Twi'lek smiled approvingly, noticing that she, like the Lethan, had hidden her weapon in her gauntlet. No need to advertise the presence of Force-users here. At least not until everything went to hell.
Inside was... dirty. As always in places like this. During her apprenticeship, Ahsoka had tagged along with Anakin to similar shady establishments more than once.
And the faces of the sentients here suggested they were more trouble than they were worth.
"Stay alert," the Lady Sith whispered. "And don't let them seize the initiative."
Meanwhile, Grido, having approached the counter, snatched a drink from one of the criminals present and demanded he bring the prisoner out.
"Looks like everything's fine," Ahsoka thought.
"What are you doing here?" one of the patrons approached the Rodian, his demeanor indicating a higher place in the criminal hierarchy than the Rodian himself.
"Plans changed," the mercenary tossed out. "We've been ordered to move the prisoner."
"Oh? And by whom?"
"The client. Said her father's looking for the girl and her sister — we need to hide them better."
"You're being shady, Grido," the criminal said suspiciously. "And you're acting nervous... Who are these two women?"
"Representatives of the client," Atroxa took over the conversation. "And if you don't want trouble, do as you're told."
"Is that so?" Grido's comrade feigned surprise. "Well, I was told to keep the girl here. And somehow I doubt the Trade Federation hires kids as mercenaries..."
He didn't get to finish.
A blinding crimson slash of a lightsaber cut him open from the shoulder down to... well, the part of his body where his species might physiologically sit.
The moment the first enemy fell, the Lethan launched herself like a whirlwind, unleashing her fury on the thugs who had just realized they'd stumbled into a situation with an uncertain ending.
Ahsoka lightning-fast deflected a blaster bolt fired at her, redirecting it into the floor. The next aimed shot — from the Weequay that Grido had sent to fetch the prisoner but who obviously hadn't made it that far — she sent back to its owner. With a hole burned through his right eye, the thug dropped dead.
The Togruta shuddered at the bloodcurdling screams that flooded the establishment as Atroxa, crashing into the group of villains, mercilessly carved them apart. Slicing bodies to pieces, she destroyed every threat like a deadly natural cataclysm.
And a few minutes later, it was all over.
"Y-you monsters, Jedi," Grido whispered, having miraculously survived the chaos. The Rodian, having watched the carnage from behind the bar counter he'd ducked behind as soon as the fighting started, now crawled out of hiding. A blaster pistol was in his hands, but its barrel was pointed at the countertop.
"We're not Jedi," Ahsoka said in a choked voice. But no one was going to explain the difference between Force adepts to the mercenary.
"Bring the girl," Atroxa demanded, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. "Before you join them."
Grido pushed his weapon away, then slowly, looking back over his shoulder with every step to see if the two killers with lightsabers would attack, disappeared into the back room of the establishment.
"Was that really necessary?" the Togruta grimaced, turning her eyes away from the carnage.
"Yes," the Lady Sith answered shortly. "For the same reason you didn't leave him alive," she pointed at the victim of the former Padawan.
"That was... a reflex," the girl tried to explain. "Deflecting CIS droid blaster shots back at the target."
"And why did you train yourself to do that?"
"To neutralize the threat," the girl frowned. Wasn't that obvious?
"Every one of them," the Lethan indicated the bodies. "They were a threat. Which we neutralized to complete our mission. If they'd wounded one of us or revealed our identity to anyone, they would have inevitably caused us future trouble. Sentients don't change, and in the future, you will certainly face the consequences of your overly merciful decisions."
"And him?" Seeing Grido emerge from the back room, Ahsoka wondered about his fate. "Isn't he a threat?"
"Here she is," the Rodian said with a panicked look, pushing a tall Pantoran woman toward them — her hands bound behind her back, a gag in her mouth. "I hope our deal still stands?"
"You're a very bad mercenary, Grido," the Lethan deftly untied the Pantoran and removed the gag from her mouth. "You should have shot first."
"Who are you?" the Pantoran girl's frightened gaze shifted from the Twi'lek to the Togruta.
"We'll take you to your father," Ahsoka hurried to reassure her. "I'll escort you..."
"I'll do it myself," the Lady Sith said unexpectedly. "And you finish things here however you see fit."
With those words, the Twi'lek, taking the Pantoran by the arm without ceremony, stepped outside, leaving Ahsoka alone with Grido and a dozen corpses in various states of disfigurement.
You didn't need to be a Sith to understand — the Twi'lek had let her decide for herself whether the mercenary lived or died. The dilemma before the girl put her in an awkward position.
"Please," Grido babbled. "Don't kill me. I'll keep quiet. Silent as a bantha. I'll... I'll fly away from here, change my name, and never remember what happened here," the Rodian clasped his hands in a pleading gesture and took a few steps toward the Togruta.
Her Master had always said mercenaries couldn't be trusted. They'd sell their own mother for a handful of credits — and those were the best of them. Grido was even worse — local scum who'd commit any vileness for money.
But at the same time, he was unarmed. Jedi didn't do that. He was defenseless and posed no threat. She just needed to extract a promise of silence from him.
"Fine," the girl forced out, hanging her weapon hilt on her belt. "You'll do as you said. And it'll be better for you if no one ever finds out about this."
"Yes, of course, everything will be fine," the Rodian rejoiced.
The girl swept her gaze over the scene of the massacre, sighed heavily, and headed for the exit.
Doubts gnawed at her inside, but Ahsoka decided she'd done the right thing. Maybe she was no longer a Jedi, but she was still bound to serve the Force. She owed nothing to Dougan. He and his servants were wrong. The galaxy didn't need to be fixed by allowing the irreparable to happen. War was destruction, not a healing procedure. She would return to Coruscant and turn him over to the Council. Not to rejoin the Order, but so that evil wouldn't go unpunished. And the traces left in this cantina would serve as irrefutable proof...
The first thing she heard was the dull thud of something falling beside her. Glancing down at her feet, the girl was horrified to discover a belt with activated thermal detonators lying at her heels. And judging by the blinking indicators — there was very little time left.
"Die, you damned Jedi!" Grido stood by the counter, aiming a blaster at her. The very same one he'd found while hiding during the cantina's clearance.
She didn't stop to think about how to act. Instincts took over.
With a Force push, she hurled the detonators away from herself into the pile of mutilated bodies. At the same time, she parried the blaster shot, redirecting it into the mercenary's chest. As her next move, she lunged outside, blasting the cantina door open with the same Force push.
The blast wave hit her in the back, throwing her several meters. Buried in the sand, the girl groaned, feeling several small fragments digging into her back.
Biting her lip, she slowly rose to her feet, glancing at the establishment blazing with bright flames. Its roof and most of the walls had collapsed, burying the bodies of the slain thugs under the rubble. The Togruta reached out with the Force toward the ruins. The hope that the Rodian might have survived the blast proved dangerous.
"To be honest," Atroxa spoke from the darkness, stepping into the light from the shadow of a nearby building. "I thought you'd just run him through with your blade. But an explosion, I admit, solves absolutely every problem. And it looks great, by the Hutts."
"I wasn't going to kill him," Ahsoka admitted. "But the moment I turned my back, he threw grenades at my feet and tried to shoot me with a blaster."
"Is that so," the Twi'lek slipped back into the darkness, effortlessly hoisting the unconscious Pantoran woman onto her shoulder. "I thought you were smarter."
And without another word, she trudged back the familiar route toward the spaceport.
Left alone, Ahsoka noticed onlookers scurrying between the buildings and hurried to hide in a nearby alley. No need to be seen near the smoking, blazing ruins of an establishment that contained at least four chopped-up corpses.
Stepping across the warm sand of Tatooine, the girl took both lightsabers from her belt — Dougan's gift. They were clearly made with care and resembled her old saber quite closely. She sensed several crystals inside each hilt, a rarity even among Council members. Each of those 'little stones' probably enhanced certain aspects of a Force-user — she'd heard about that back when she was still a youngling. Which directly indicated that Dougan hadn't just handed her whatever weapon was lying around. He'd surely made it in advance and kept it, waiting for the right moment to pass it on.
But if he'd said her exile was an accidental side effect, then who had he been making these sabers for if she was supposed to stay in the Order? The girl channeled the Force into the blades and received a pleasant response from the crystals. No, the weapon was definitely meant for her. So he'd been planning to win her over to his side for a long time?
Riddles upon riddles, and no answers.
Wincing from the stinging wounds on her back, she sadly caught herself thinking that even faced with death, Grido hadn't missed his chance to show his treacherous nature. If the war hadn't honed her self-preservation instincts, she would certainly have died — if not from the detonators, then definitely from the blaster.
And this after she'd shown him compassion?!
Or was it weakness? Her inability to do what needed to be done when it needed to be done. To eliminate the danger to avoid it in the future.
Was all of this really true? Even Atroxa had put the former prisoner to sleep so she wouldn't remember the ship they'd take her home on. Foresight.
Sighing, the girl called on the Force to dull the pain. In the future, she needed to be more careful. Or stop acting like a teenager and at least wear cloth armor. Another mistake from her past — sacrificing protection for mobility. And look where it had led!
Ahsoka, having covered considerable distance, returned to the ship's landing pad. Her body ached and throbbed, the wounds bleeding and causing immense pain.
Glancing at Atroxa's solitary figure, lounging by the ship's boarding ramp, Ahsoka just nodded silently.
No.
She wouldn't turn them over to the Council and the Republic.
She would give them a chance to fix the galaxy, let them break the vicious cycle of the Sith-Jedi conflict. And she would try to avoid the fate of being zipped into a body bag.
* * *
"Are these numbers real?" Aayla looked up from reading the report at the Duros sitting across from her, above the datapad. "Too optimistic to be true."
"General," Rivas Nuodo lounged in his chair, the picture of carelessness. At first meeting, you'd never guess he was the head of a private military company. "If I tell you we've prepared three million recruits, that's how it is. You can count them one by one if you want."
"I'll trust the paperwork," the Twi'lek snorted. "Still, you're worth your money."
"Well, I should hope so," the Duros snorted. "So don't worry — all arriving ships will be fully crewed."
"As if I had anything to worry about," Secura said, burying herself in the reading again.
Only a week had passed since she'd taken command of the Tenth Systems Army. Temporarily, of course, while Dougan was on leave.
Lord Dougan, she corrected herself. She shouldn't forget where she stood in the hierarchy of the Eternal Empire of Zakuul.
Five hundred Marauders and the same number of Hammerhead-class cruisers, which had arrived the previous day, had literally saved the situation. The hundred and fifty starships remaining after three sectoral armies had merged — that was far too few to even hold the territories still under Republic control.
Things were even worse with the ground forces. Consolidating the available legions and regiments, the bottom line came out to only four clone corps and two volunteer corps. The first was led by Matthew Mantrell, who had replaced the commander killed during the skirmish at Nexus Ortai. A native Christophsian, a man with a grim appearance. During Trench's last attack, he'd lost his entire family, killed under Vulture droid bombs. Since then, his unit, alongside the clones, had fought on the front lines, leaving behind a minimum of casualties and a maximum of scrap metal.
Deezy Azmo, a Rodian who commanded the Second Volunteer Corps of Christophsis — made up entirely of his fellow species, natives of the same planet — was not much different from his human counterpart in his desire to destroy as many droids as possible. Rodians made up the second-largest population on Christophsis. Given their natural hunting instincts (it was no coincidence that Rodians had founded the GenoHaradan bounty hunter organization, the first of its kind in the galaxy), it was no wonder that like a deadly whirlwind, specializing in airborne operations, they led most attacks.
Fifty-four new corps of Christophsian volunteer line infantry, having only recently completed grueling training under the guidance of the Nuodo Private Military Company, were currently undergoing final preparations before being transferred to new bases. Armed with Republic weapons, trained to fight on Republic equipment standard-issue to the GAR, this was a massive army capable of crushing any CIS resistance in the shortest possible time.
Or the Republic's, Aayla reminded herself.
The Lord's idea was incredibly simple.
The hit-and-run tactics that both sides of the conflict had been using were now becoming a thing of the past. Both the Republic and the CIS, after the bloody battles on Ryloth and Geonosis, had come to the conclusion that their controlled planets needed their own military bases. The newly appointed Grand Moff had adopted this concept before anyone else. That was why, by the end of the first year of the war, fortified outposts had already been established on most planets, where clone personnel would soon be replaced by Christophsian volunteers.
"I take it you won't refuse further training orders?" Aayla inquired.
Even though reinforcements had already arrived from Kamino aboard two dozen Acclamators — hastily ordered from Rothana Heavy Engineering — even eight fresh, full-strength corps were clearly insufficient for proper combat operations.
The Lord demanded that clones make up the core of the army's strike force. Twelve corps of line infantry, each one made up entirely of clones of the Mandalorian mercenary Jango Fett — that was a significant force.
The 327th Star Corps, which was still her personal strike unit under Bly's command, was currently finishing medical treatment at the Christophsis Medical Center. Later, when the Lord returned, Aayla, as befitting a Jedi General, would go forth to spread good and establish democracy on the planets in her area of responsibility. Rear Admiral Kreeves, who, like most freshly minted officers assigned to the newly formed strike squadrons, was currently finishing the outfitting of his unit. As before, despite the arrival of two hundred Venators and Acclamators in the army, he still remained on the bridge of his Victorious. And they would be working as one team going forward.
The 156th Assault Corps, led by Clone Marshal Commander Ventor, and the Mace strike squadron under Rear Admiral Demetrius Zaarin were, by the Lord's order, commanded by Siri Tachi. Another find. Modest in appearance, the girl had managed to surprise even Secura, who was seasoned in matters of passion. After Rick had opened up to them, revealing the subtleties of his Plan during the flight from Kamino to Christophsis, Obi-Wan Kenobi's former lover had accepted her new status — subordinate of the Eternal Emperor — without much enthusiasm. But at the same time, she unquestioningly followed orders and was now preparing with her people to attack one of the planets bordering Hutt Space. If she was as swift and tapped into her emotions as she had been in the Defender's captain's cabin after the Emperor's explanations, the CIS wouldn't even have time to launch its new secret clone production facility.
Sometimes Aayla wondered what had happened to them both, that bound by duty and oath of allegiance to the Republic, they had both joined a Jedi who openly stated that all the dogmas and beliefs of the Order and the state would have to be left in the past. Not that she regretted it — finally, she had gotten what she wanted.
A broken heart and simmering passions had found their sustenance. Yes, most likely he had done something to their minds while both women were recovering in the bacta tanks on Kamino. Otherwise, it was hard to explain the ease with which they'd made such a decision.
But she was happy. Yes, even if she was one of many women sharing his bed — the Lord didn't hide that. Among Twi'leks, such relationships were considered normal, and demanding the imperial body for herself alone would have been at least foolish.
The 63rd Assault Corps, led by a clone with the extremely strange name LeshKa, and the Spear strike squadron under Rear Admiral Makati, had received its general in the person of Seras Keto and was currently finishing its complement. Assembled from the remnants of the ground forces of the 14th Sectoral Army, this unit was currently stationed on Ryloth — until the Grand Moff settled the frictions with the locals. Master Windu had promised to withdraw the troops as soon as the planet was retaken from the CIS. But given that most of the oversector was currently under Separatist control, doing so was, to put it mildly, unwise.
The 89th Corps under Marshal Commander Zorgi, along with the hastily recomplemented Shield strike squadron under Rear Admiral Oswald Teshik, was currently engaged in low-intensity fighting on Geonosis, continuing the pacification of the rebellious locals, who kept trying to cause some sort of trouble. General Soara Antana, who had suffered a severe injury during the second invasion of the planet, though she was maintaining the situation at a "stable but serious" stage, in Aayla's opinion still needed help. This was partly because, despite a severe concussion, the Jedi had returned to the planet after spending only a few hours in the medbay aboard a Republic medical ship.
It was for this reason that the 217th Corps, hardened in battles on the territory of the 15th Sectoral Army and led by Marshal Commander Riviriv, was currently loading onto Acclamators, to be escorted by Commodore Zsinj and his Marauders from Arrow-1 detachment under the command of Sia-Lan Wezz, who had recovered from a severe wound, to accelerate the operation to force the Geonosians into peace. The Lord had especially emphasized the importance and danger of this world, ordering not to level it to the ground and, where possible, to take measures to preserve the droid factories that kept being discovered. And while Secura couldn't be certain about Antana, Sia-Lan Wezz had survived her injury only thanks to the Lord. He had surely pulled the same trick with her as with the Twi'lek herself.
Much more problematic was deciding which of the Jedi arriving in the army should be given command of the new corps. Hastily trained clones who had never smelled tibanna could easily pay a huge price for their first combat experience.
The 305th Landing Corps under Marshal Commander Mifispi, together with the Stiletto squadron of Rear Admiral Tigellinus, having picked up Jedi Knights Kento Marek and Roan Shrine, had already departed for Exsarga, whose mining industry the CIS had seized in record time after the Battle of Geonosis. The battle promised to be fierce, so Aayla had ordered the Third Volunteer Corps of Christophsis under Spin Kotor, which had only just completed its training, to hastily move out in the wake of the 305th Corps. Stiletto 2 and Stiletto 3 under Commodores Syn and Grunger would cover the transports. Unlike the ground forces, in space near Exsarga, the CIS had no forces stronger than two dozen of the Munificent under the command of tactical droids. The newly arrived Jedi would also join the ground forces — Kay Justice, Salmara, Saydem Fort, and his Togruta apprentice Deran Naluan.
77th Reconnaissance Corps, despite having barely arrived from Kamino, had experienced clones among its ranks — from those who had been undergoing treatment on their homeworld. The Dark Woman, who had descended like a bolt from the blue on Tatooine's inhabitants, had peremptorily taken these soldiers, sullen and unsociable with other clones, whose clone marshal-commander Micky, already nicknamed "Furious," was a veteran of the First Battle of Geonosis. Vice Admiral Pellaeon and his Hammer Fleet, supported by Arrow 4 and Arrow 5 squads, would deliver these men to Doom-Bradden, where the Separatists had established a full-fledged base protected by a strong fleet. The planet held no particular interest in terms of resources or anything else. But the fact remained — this world was currently at the spearhead of a breakthrough on a unified front. If the CIS managed to hold this bridgehead, they could raid the rear of the 10th Sectoral. The battle was expected to be extremely heavy — no wonder the Jedi Tholme, T'ra S'a, and Mo, whom the Council had sent among others, had gone straight from Coruscant to the rendezvous point.
Reinforcements…
Things weren't simple with them either. Despite the truly vast area of responsibility, the Council had allocated only three dozen Jedi as reinforcements. Moreover, alongside skilled fighters or Jedi aces, those who had only an indirect relation to the war were also supposed to arrive in the army.
The Master had ordered that, until his return, all reinforcements be sent either to the front lines or to secondary bases, which were now the former centers of sector armies — Ord Pardron, Ryloth, Kymmet — planned to be turned into fortified outposts, nodal defense points in the sectors. And while the first and last planets posed no problems, the inhabitants of Ryloth categorically objected to the presence of Republic troops, bases, and equipment in their world. But the Emperor had promised to deal with all of that.
How exactly — Aayla had no idea. Perhaps the same way as on Christophsis. It was no coincidence that the entire population, in a single surge, idolized the man, erecting in the center of the capital, on the site of the government quarter where Dougan's forces had been stationed during the defense, a massive citadel — one glance at the blueprints of which was enough to understand that this was clearly not the Christophsians' design.
"You'd have to be an idiot to refuse," the Rodian snorted. "Elder Aisel mentioned twenty to thirty million recruits. And that's just an indecent sum."
"Thank the Force, it's not us paying it," Aayla sighed.
Where the locals got such enormous sums of money to finance the construction of a fleet for the master, train an army, build space stations and repair docks in their system, she didn't know. The Master hadn't wished to tell her about it. So it had to be that way.
"In that case, you'd better return to your people," she said. "And oversee the recruit selection."
"As you command, General," Nuodo said, saluting playfully, and left her office.
The Twi'lek watched him disappear through the door, then leaned back in her chair wearily.
Soon this base on Ord Pardron would lose its primary importance. Yes, all the infrastructure and a full garrison of five volunteer corps from Christophsis would remain here — they had already arrived and were being quartered in the barracks. But as soon as the Citadel on Christophsis was ready, all command of the system army would move there.
For now, she had to finish processing the information prepared for her by the army staff.
The larger the structure in the army, the more bloated its staff. That was how it was everywhere in the Republic. But not in the "Gent."
The staff of the 10th System Army was headed by General Jin. The elderly man wasn't just renowned as a brilliant strategist and tactician — he never stopped confirming his loud reputation. Working alongside the recently arrived Jan Dodonna and Adar Tallon, geniuses of space tactics and strategy, he had managed to transfer Colonel Gentis under his wing, who had only recently moved to staff work after an unequal bloody slaughter of his clone unit against the CIS's most ruthless mercenary squad, "Burning Embers." Another acquisition of the staff was Major Rom Mok, an excellent officer and engineer who built strategies to counter CIS forces based on the weaknesses in the enemy soldiers' construction. Mara Cross — an operations officer who had previously served on the Hammer Fleet staff. Despite her young age, the girl had an excellent grasp of the operational situation at the front, what you might call "keeping her finger on the pulse," so any staff reports she compiled were accurate and understandable after the first reading. Shaddai Potkin, despite being a Jedi and, in theory, supposed to lead a combat unit, had nearly left the Order due to a psychological trauma she had experienced. However, after a long private conversation with the master, she had changed her mind, transferring to staff work and heading the threat assessment department.
But the jewel of the staff was a special operations unit formed just yesterday. And the beings who composed it were all the more interesting.
The new department was headed by former Mandalorian mercenary Kal Skirata. The elderly man, despite having previously trained clones for the Grand Army of the Republic and having collaborated with the Bureau of Special Operations for the past year, had somehow easily changed his place of service. And he had brought his unhinged brood with him.
Null-class Advanced Recon Commandos. Those the Kaminoans had deemed defective and were going to dispose of. They did this not because the children came out deformed or drooled in formation, giggling stupidly. The Kaminoans had modified the donor's genes, creating the "Nulls." And those, in turn, turned out quite… specific. They only obeyed Skirata, only carried out his orders. Rumors had it that when the "Nulls" were about to be frozen after the Battle of Geonosis a year ago, they had seized the barracks and held them against the entire security service until their demands were met — Skirata was brought back into the army and placed under his command.
Aayla had already had a rather unpleasant conversation with General Zey, the former commander of the commandos. Having lost his best operatives, he was somewhat disappointed. But when he learned that in exchange for this six-man team, Secura would transfer him two full commando groups — the last ones trained on Kamino — his dissatisfaction immediately vanished. The Jedi even let it slide that some of them had severe injuries replaced with cybernetic prosthetics. He was glad to have received at least something in return for the loss of such a valuable resource.
The Twi'lek understood Zey's joy perfectly — the "Nulls" always did only what they wanted, or what Skirata ordered. And if they didn't like an order, they might just ignore it. A different matter were the obedient commandos from the "Alpha" generation. Of course, no one told Zey that every clone in these squads served the Grand Army only for appearances. When the time came, they would make their moves.
The "Sector Governance Decree" granted Dougan, and also Secura as his substitute, very broad powers. And while commando missions used to be assigned only from Coruscant, now each of the Grand Moffs could afford to have their own clone commando units, requesting their transfer from the Bureau of Special Operations. It had to be admitted, the master had pulled it off.
Besides the "Nulls," the special operations department was also joined by Jedi Knight Etain Tur-Mukan, a former Padawan of Zey himself. And along with her, several commando groups arrived on Ord Pardron.
Delta Squad.
Omega Squad.
Aiwha Squad.
Ion Team.
Vevat Squad.
Yayax Squad.
Considering that, by Dougan's order, two new squads had also been included in the new unit — Hurricane Team under Alpha's command, and Laskovyi Mai Squad under Balda's leadership — this was a truly formidable force. Of course, the last group still needed to be brought up to full strength — but that wasn't a problem.
Given the reputation of each squad and their merits to the Republic, Aayla continued to marvel at how widely her master had cast his nets.
Several arriving Jedi also joined the "Specs." John Antilles — a former Padawan of the Dark Woman. Larant Tarak — a member of the Order's "Gray Paladins" group, who didn't use lightsabers, preferring conventional blaster weapons. Sian Jeisel — one of the few who had left the Order in protest against the start of the war. But had returned, yielding to Master Windu's persuasion. Dass Jennir — an excellent warrior, but at the same time, extremely unsociable.
These were the beings who were to deliver pinpoint, yet immensely painful strikes across a vast territory. However, they showed no dissatisfaction with the assigned tasks.
Aayla returned to the list of Jedi reinforcements.
Running her eyes over it once more, she stopped at a familiar name.
Xiaan Amersu. A Rutian Twi'lek who had once helped her former lover, Quinlan Voss, regain part of his memories. And a close friend of Secura herself. So close that Aayla knew perfectly well about the feelings that kept manifesting themselves between Xiaan and her secret lover — A'Sharad Hett, whose name was also on the list. She should inform the master that keeping these two together was extremely dangerous. Hett was unstable by his aggressive nature — and the lack of control over him could negatively affect the future.
Having verified from the datacard that each of the arriving Jedi had received their assignment, the Twi'lek allowed herself to relax a little.
Exactly three minutes later, Mara Cross informed her of some problems that had arisen.
* * *
"Kuh!" Barely keeping her feet from the explosion of a heavy shell that shook the entire bridge, Racha Sitra addressed her fellow Jedi again. "If you don't hurry, we'll be wiped out!"
"Racha, I'm sure the Valley is somewhere around here! I just need another half hour, an hour at most!" The hologram of Qu Rahn, a Jedi researcher like herself, flickered as a new stream of turbolaser bolts raked the Hammerhead's hull.
"Another half hour and the Separatists will be the ones extracting you from the planet!" the girl said. Meeting her colleague's gaze, the young Jedi researcher smoothed her trembling lekku tip and opened a channel to the assault shuttle's pilot. "Lodbrok!"
"I'm here, General Sitra," the recon team leader responded.
"Finish your mission immediately and return to the Swift."
"As you command, General."
"Racha, no! We can't," Qu Rahn protested. "I've tried so long to get here!"
"Well, you'll get here later," the Twi'lek cut him off. "We weren't sent here to explore planets, but to find that damn listening post!"
Honestly, Racha still didn't understand why she, a Jedi researcher, had been summoned to the front. Yes, she was a non-trivial researcher, like Qu Rahn, and one of the best swordsmen in the Corps, but to fight? Command units?
If this had happened at the beginning of the war, she could have explained her reluctance to the Council. And most likely would have stayed in the Temple.
But now, when the Supreme Chancellor had integrated Order members into the military hierarchy of the Grand Army of the Republic, she couldn't refuse. So, grabbing her meager belongings, she set off for her post.
The mission assigned to her, Qu Rahn, Malorum, Master Simms, and her Padawan Noira Na, seemed simple. Survey a number of systems on the border of Hutt Space to find a communications intercept post set up there by the Separatists. Republic intelligence had reported its existence after several convoys passing through Hutt Space were shot up by Separatist raiders the moment they entered Republic space. Of course, it could have been dismissed as a coincidence, if such attacks hadn't been repeated five times in different parts of the sector.
Given that only the convoy commanders and Order members knew the schedule and course, the question naturally arose that the Separatists were eavesdropping on Republic communication channels. And such a threat had to be dealt with as quickly as possible.
She and Qu Rahn were assigned to check the Ruusan system. The Hammerhead, fresh off the slips under the command of Captain Voss Parck, had taken clone scouts from the 212th Reconnaissance Corps aboard — which had only recently arrived from Kamino under their clone marshal-commander Sinilian — and set off for the coveted target. The other Jedi had also begun surveying their own search zones.
A sense of foreboding had struck Racha as soon as they entered the Ruusan system. A dozen reconnaissance shuttles and fighters had launched from the hangar decks to investigate the planets and their moons one by one for any possible Separatist presence in the system.
At first, everything went as usual — the clones worked, scanning one celestial body after another. Siri had already thought this wasn't the system they needed, but her reflections were interrupted by two events at once.
First, the commander of the scout group sent to Ruusan's moon, designated Ruusan-2 in the galactic atlas, came on the line. Iv'an (stress on the first syllable) reported that CIS fighters were following on their heels. Given that there wasn't even a whiff of tin cans in the system, it turned out that something valuable for the Separatists was hidden in the depths of this gas moon.
Qu Rahn, who had joined her on this mission, had gone to Ruusan's surface with the scouts to test a long-standing working theory of his.
A thousand years ago in this system, Jedi and Sith had clashed in a deadly battle for control of the galaxy. Ruusan had endured seven offensives, after which the Sith were finally defeated — at least, that was the belief until recently. History says that after the deaths of a hundred Jedi and Sith, in memory of their sacrifice, in the Valley where the last bloody battle of those times took place, Order members and the grateful peoples of the Republic erected a monument to the fallen heroes. Unfortunately, time had been merciless in preserving accurate information about this cultural heritage site.
As a result — no one in the Order knew exactly where this Valley of the Jedi was located. Even the information that it was on Ruusan was merely Rahn's own conjecture. Which he intended to test.
Just before the scouts from Ruusan-2 returned, three Separatist frigates of the Munificent class entered the system, setting a course to close with the lone Hammerhead.
And a space battle began.
Racha thanked the creators of this beautiful ship, which calmly withstood the concentrated fire of three opponents simultaneously while suffering minimal losses.
"The enemy is using the standard 'Triangle' formation," Captain Parck informed her as she drew level with him at the cruiser's forward viewports. "See, two ships are positioned above one. This allows them to keep us under crossfire, while we're forced to concentrate our turbolasers on only one target to achieve an acceptable result. Ultimately, if General Qu Rahn doesn't return to the cruiser's board, I'll have to order a retreat without him."
"I understand, Captain," the Twi'lek assured him. "No one wants to risk their new ship in their very first battle…"
"It's not that," the officer shook his head negatively. "The ship is just a tool. But the people on it are far more valuable."
"And here, I suppose, I agree with you," the Twi'lek said.
The man cast a disapproving glance at the silent general, then sighed heavily.
"Bridge," he leaned toward the console and activated the intercom. "Launch everything we've got."
Throwing another look at the Jedi, Voss Parck just shook his head and muttered quietly:
"Maybe the fighters will buy us more time."
* * *
Throwing the "Ethereal Fairy" to the left, Garen dodged a burst from the pursuing droid fighters. With quick yet carefully measured movements, he guided his fighter between a cluster of asteroids to shake the pursuers off his tail.
"Blue Leader," came a voice in his earpiece. "We've lost visual."
"I'm fine, Fakir," he reassured his wingman. "I've got a few tin cans on my tail, but that's fixable. Continue your mission."
"Yes, sir," the clone responded.
Turning to the Great Force, Jedi ace Garen Muln immersed himself in it completely, encompassing the entire battle picture with his mind.
His squad's mission was extremely simple — conduct reconnaissance among the Vergesso asteroids, where CIS forces had been spotted. Engaging in battle was not recommended until the enemy's strength in the region was clear. And given the recent front breakthrough, there could be an entire fleet in this sector, which even a strike squadron might not be able to handle.
However, Captain Sagoro Autem, who currently stood on the bridge of a Venator-class Star Destroyer, held a very different opinion.
"General," after the briefing with Aayla Secura, the captain had approached him with a proposal. "It seems to me that reconnaissance by a single destroyer and four Marauders is a rather wasteful affair, don't you think?"
"That's the task set before us, Captain," Garen had been surprised. "Reconnaissance, and nothing more."
"And so, if we spot a couple of Separatist frigates, we'll retreat?" Othem had pressed his point. "Not tear them apart for spare parts, using our numerical advantage?"
"You're not averse to a fight, Captain," the Jedi had noted.
"The more of their ships and droids we send to the smelter, the faster this war will end," Sagoro had said coldly. "It always seemed to me that you Jedi wanted that more than anything."
"You're absolutely right in your conviction," Muln had confirmed. "And yes, we'll turn any enemy target we can into scrap metal. The responsibility is mine."
At first, everything went as usual. They emerged from hyperspace at the edge of the asteroid field, launched cover squadrons, and began scanning space…
Fakir was the first to spot the enemy ships, masking their presence behind huge rock formations. Twenty Munificent-class frigates surrounding a Lucrehulk. A truly unpleasant surprise.
And then, the Republic learned that the enemy had "jump bases" in the asteroid field — hastily equipped landing pads for droid fighters. Which activated the moment Republic pilots slipped through the defensive perimeter.
A fight for survival began.
Their own ships could do little to help them — no one would venture into a belt of space boulders the size of a good planet, risking being crushed every second. Therefore, the indiscriminate turbolaser fire that the Republic starships concentrated on the CIS ships' location was more demonstrative than effective.
A familiar craft with the Republic emblem flashed before his eyes.
"Turr!" the Jedi called the Red Squadron commander. "You've got two on your tail!"
"Thanks, General!" the lieutenant's cheerful voice came through the earpiece. "Won't be long."
And the next second, before the Jedi ace's eyes, Fenrir's V-wing darted between two converging boulders. Through the Great Force, Garen could sense that the pilot was fine — his spark of life was shining. But the droids were smeared across the asteroids' rocky surface.
"Not bad, Lieutenant," the Jedi praised. "But risky."
"Not at all, sir!" Red One objected. "These Nimbus are just candies. The Separatists can never keep up with them. By the way, are you planning to shake those Vultures off your tail?"
"Why?" Garen was surprised. "They're not bothering me."
"Really? I thought those laser bursts flashing around your 'Fairy' were starting to annoy you."
"Just a little," finally emerging into a relatively rock-free space, Garen executed a descending, expanding spiral, forcing the pursuers to break off their coordinated attack. And as soon as he was sure that each fighter had decided to catch him at a specific point in the next loop, he sharply engaged the braking thrusters, spinning his ship around on a dime in the opposite direction.
"Now the fun begins," he said with a smile, catching the first Vulture in his sights.
* * *
"Captain Othem," a young officer opened a channel to the flagship. "Our fighters are returning."
"Yes, we see that too, Lieutenant Nida. Prepare to get out of here as soon as we've recovered all fighters aboard."
"With all due respect, sir, I wanted to propose a different plan."
"Fight two dozen Munificents that are coming at us?" the senior officer was surprised. "I'm not averse to a fight either, but they'll sic their fighters on us. The frigates are staying in the rear, and from this range, our turbolasers will just scratch their paint…"
"My plan revolves around our corvettes' concussion missiles," Lort noted. "Lieutenants Monti and Kaine are already on standby."
"Hold on," a miniature figure of Captain Sagoro Autem appeared over the holoterminal on the bridge of Lort Nida's Marauder. "Did I understand you correctly? Bury them in missiles when they come out of the asteroid field? Like they pulled off at Bothawui?"
"Not quite, sir," the young man admitted. "We're going to destroy the asteroids."
"What?" Sagoro was taken aback.
"We don't have enough missiles to hold off their fighter wing," Nida explained. "But we can turn the asteroids in the enemy fighters' path into fragmentation munitions. A missile explosion will turn any asteroid into thousands of small rocks…"
"Which will shred the tin cans at blaster-bolt speed," Othem finished, stroking his chin. "Risky and bold, Lieutenant. Proceed."
"Yes, sir!" the young commander of the Marauder smiled with satisfaction.
To be honest, he had never regretted accepting the offer to transfer to the 10th System Army. Of course, living on Coruscant and sitting around in an office, not risking his hide, was certainly safer for his health. But how could you call yourself an officer if you'd been aboard a ship only about ten times, and in a real battle only three?
He liked the Marauder. Swift, dangerous. An excellent support ship, capable of dismantling any enemy ship up to Star Destroyer class on its own. And when it came to covering the main forces from the enemy's annoying and ubiquitous small craft — truly indispensable.
"Launch concussion missiles," the lieutenant ordered the bridge crew.
"Yes, sir," a dark-skinned man echoed.
A Christophsian, Lort recalled. One of those who had realized that the galaxy's fate couldn't be decided only by the hands of clones and Jedi. Those who had survived the occupation and the brutal Separatist raid. Who had endured the bitterness of losing loved ones and gazed with tears in their eyes at the smoking ruins of their cities.
If before, serving on the Consular, Lort had noted the excellent training of clones, knowledge and skills that ordinary beings couldn't even come close to, now… No, these guys weren't eating their rations for nothing. Yes, they weren't as identical as clones, but they were diligent and ruthless. For them, war wasn't a job they were created for.
It was a duty, without which they would have to wade through blood if the Separatists gained the upper hand.
And Nida completely agreed with them. As did the commanders of the other Marauders — Conan Antonio Monti, Ardus Kaine, and that unsmiling giant Barrow Oikunn. Lort recalled that the latter was one of the few survivors after General Grievous's orbital bombardment of his homeworld. They had served together on Coruscant for a time — as had Monti and Kaine. And then, Grand Moff Dougan had offered them the bridges of their own ships.
Should an honest officer refuse such an offer? Never in his life.
Meanwhile, leaving reactive trails behind them, dozens of concussion missiles from each corvette streaked toward the stone giants, between which the first groups of Vultures had already appeared.
The very next instant, the edge of the asteroid belt turned into a hell of fire, ash, and deadly debris.
Half an hour later, having destroyed several hundred space boulders and thousands of droid fighters, Captain Othem's squadron, having expended the remaining concussion missiles on the enemy's forward frigates and scored numerous hits, retreated to base. They would need to return here with larger forces and clear this strategically important area of Separatist filth.
* * *
"You needn't thank me, Senator," the door to the lounge, where Rush Clovis was drinking alone, opened, admitting a familiar Jedi figure. "Neither for saving your life, nor for helping expose the embezzlement."
"And yet, I am in your debt," the banker said quietly. "If you hadn't come to our aid…"
"Do you really think the mercenary was going to kill you?" the Jedi smirked, settling onto the sofa opposite.
"It seems to me his weapon spoke for itself," Clovis said in bewilderment. "First the murder of Padmé's handmaiden, then the attempt on her own life, finally the attack on my residence…"
"What if I told you all of this was a carefully staged performance?" the Jedi inquired unexpectedly.
"Nonsense!" Rush waved his hands. "Who needs such elaborate methods of provocation?"
"Count Dooku," the Jedi shrugged. Reaching for the table where an opened bottle of Corellian whiskey stood, he filled a clean glass and leaned back against the sofa again. "Think about it yourself.
"If there's logic in this, it escapes me," Clovis admitted. "Though one could assume the Count doesn't want Padmé and me to inform the Senate about the Banking Clan's machinations. After all, then it would become known that the Confederacy hasn't paid a single percent on the loans..."
"Completely wrong," the Jedi waved his hand. Leaning forward, he removed his face mask and placed it on the table. Returning to his original position, the man still concealed his face, thanks to the shadows cast by his hood. "Any more attempts?"
"Perhaps then you, Master Jedi, will enlighten me?" the banker squinted, growing tired of this charade.
"With pleasure," the other snorted, taking a sip of his drink. Then, with a deft motion, he tossed a tiny information chip into the banker's hands. "Here is the complete information on the accounts through which Republic money was funneled. With this, you can easily prove to the Senate that the clan leadership is profiting from embezzlement. Of course, the money is no longer there—the leadership either cashed it out or moved it elsewhere. Either way, two annual budgets of the Republic are already gone. However, when all this comes to light, I think the Muuns will make up the shortfall to avoid further damaging the Banking Clan's reputation."
"Where did you get this?" the banker asked skeptically.
"You gave the senator one chip, I gave another," the man shrugged. "After all, we're all doing the same work."
"I'm not so sure," Clovis weighed the chip in his hand, as if debating whether to accept the Jedi's help. "Why are you helping me?"
"It's simple," the Jedi took another sip. "You're an idealist who wants to restore transparency and functionality to the Banking Clan. It seems to me that by presenting this evidence, you can convince the Senate to put you at the head of the Banking Clan."
"Yes, that's exactly what I planned," Clovis admitted. "But I don't think they'll support me."
"They will," the Jedi stated confidently. "Among my acquaintances are influential senators whose opinions others heed."
"Is Padmé Amidala one of them?" Clovis asked with a hint of jealousy.
"Senator Amidala is a thing unto herself," Dougan said vaguely. "But I think she will support you. In memory of the past."
Clovis felt a surge of adrenaline at the tone the Jedi used.
"Listen," he rose from his seat. "I won't allow..."
"No, you listen," the Jedi said with a threatening edge. Rush felt goosebumps run across his skin under his clothes. Never in his life had he been so afraid of what was happening. Yes, he had heard of the mythical Force and the inhuman abilities of the Jedi—and had even witnessed it firsthand on Scipio. But he never thought it would happen like this...
"You're just a pawn in someone else's hands, Clovis," the banker felt his legs give way and sat down, unable to tear his eyes from the darkness beneath the Jedi's hood. "Your idealism is being used to try to ruin the Republic. In the end, this will cause a loss of trust in you from the Senate, the Republic, and the Padmé Amidala you adore." The Jedi stood. Like a black shadow, he walked to the door and locked it from the inside.
"Now no one will disturb us, Clovis." The banker found the strength to glance at the Jedi. To his horror, he saw two burning eyes the color of molten aurodium staring at him from the darkness of the hood.
"W-who are you?" he asked with a faltering tongue. "What do you want from me?"
"I am the one in whose hands your fate lies, Clovis," the man seemed to speak with the voices of thousands. This cacophony of sounds pounded his ears, causing incredible pain. "Serve me, Clovis! I will make you the head of the Banking Clan, help you bring order to it and restore the system's operation as its creators intended."
"Th-that's all I want," the banker said.
"All?" the Jedi asked mockingly. "What about Senator Amidala?"
"I... I don't even dare to hope."
"Serve me, Clovis, and you will get everything you need," the man said with emphasis.
The vibrations emanating from the Jedi literally tore fragments of his life from his memory, assembling them into a grotesque picture of what was happening. Yes, he was right. Clovis is an idealist, striving to fulfill his dream—to make banks the one true regulator in the galaxy. And now the work of his entire life could come to fruition. This terrifying man could give him whatever he wished. Whatever he needed. But gods, how hard it was to concentrate...
"Just agree, and the pain will stop, Clovis," the man said, as if reading his thoughts. Or perhaps he really did read them?!
It was pointless to resist such a powerful being.
"I... I agree, my lord! What must I do?"
"You have made a wise choice, Clovis," Dougan praised him. And miraculously, the pain splitting his head vanished. "Immediately after your victory in the Senate, secure Padmé Amidala's support in working with the bank accounts. Do not show her the chip I gave you. And," he couldn't see the man's face, but felt he was smiling, "do not be afraid to put yourself in the path of her husband's fists."
"She... is married?" Rush felt as if struck by lightning. How? When did that happen?
"It doesn't matter," the Jedi cut him off. "Stick to my plan, and this marriage won't last long."
Rush felt a puppyish delight that his new ally was already ready to help him in a vital romantic struggle.
The former senator slid off the couch onto the floor, kneeling before the black figure.
"I will carry out all your instructions to the letter, my lord."