Chapter 84 - Chapter 24

The young woman, with the arrogance and disdain for those around her typical of Kuat workers, tore her gaze away from contemplating the Aurebesh text on her datapad screen. Looking over the Jedi sitting across from her (at least, the lightsaber on the belt of the frankly vulgarly dressed Twi'lek indicated her affiliation with the Order), the temporary head of Rothana Heavy Engineering, Nora Pifel, lowered her eyes to the text once more.

She had received her post quite recently — not even a month had passed since she had assumed office. It had been an extremely painstaking and long road to the heights of power. One that had required great agility, the ability to latch onto those who could help at the right time, and to get rid of unnecessary and compromising acquaintances. Yes, she'd had to grease some palms here and there, and warm more than one bed, but natural beauty, a sharp mind, and an unerring ability to see opportunities had done their job.

In particular, her work as a personal sales manager, first for the 13th Sector Army and then for the 10th System Army, had given her an enormous push forward. For that, she had to thank Grand Moff Dougan, and honestly, it was precisely for a meeting with him that she had been preparing, having learned that "some big shot from Ghent" was flying to Rothana.

But instead of a personal visit, the extravagant Jedi had sent his bedwarmer… in the sense, his deputy. And how simple it would have been if the Jedi were more… human, you know? But no, they lock themselves up in their Temple — you can't drink with them, you can't sleep with them… And yet, there were many popular figures among them, close acquaintance with whom might have hinted to the management of Kuat Drive Yards that the young and sharp employee should be made the full-fledged head of RHE, not just the "acting" one.

"If you read it a sixth time, the meaning won't change," Aayla Secura declared.

The Jedi sat in the chair opposite, legs crossed, like some common boulevard… well, all women of this race behaved like that. And it wasn't as if the rumors about their availability were exaggerated. Any wealthy man (or woman — Nora added to herself, recalling her villa on Kuat) could afford to have a whole staff of beautiful and attractive exotics from Ryloth to satisfy all their needs. And the women of this species were by no means opposed to such treatment. By representatives of any race and gender.

So the actions of this sexy Jedi, her demandingness and principles, slightly baffled the young woman. A representative of a non-human race simply shouldn't behave like that towards a human! Where was the fawning respect, the servility before a representative of the titular race of most of the inhabited worlds of the Unknown Regions?

Was Nora a xenophobe? Partly, yes. Her upbringing did not allow her to treat other races as equals. However, using them for her own purposes did not interfere with such a worldview. Which led to the logical conclusion: the lot of other races was to serve humans. Even the Republic's leadership understood this — it was no coincidence that the Commission for the Protection of the Republic had organized the deportation of most of the alien population from Coruscant. Even if they were representatives of those races that were part of the Separatist movement, Nora considered this only the first swallow. Ideally, all aliens should be expelled beyond the Mid Rim — the Outer Rim Territories was the right place for them.

"Listen, Knight Secura, I have, of course, been informed of the Chancellor's decision, but you must also understand: Rothana is not the property of the Republic, and such actions…"

"This is a security measure, Director, nothing more."

"We have enough of our own planetary forces to repel any attack," Nora remarked coldly. She didn't like what was happening at all. "It looks more like the Republic doesn't trust us and seeks to take control of our facilities…"

"Let's not resort to politicking," Secura asked. "The Chancellor has approved the transfer of Rothana and all its production complexes to the direct management of the Ghent System Army command. This decision has been discussed with your leadership on Kuat. So, all this current indignation is just beating the air, which is pointless."

"Try to understand me correctly too!" the girl raised her voice. "Stationing four hundred thousand clones on the planet is no simple task!"

"Not clones, but volunteers," the Jedi's cold tone was irritating. What did this insolent alien think she was doing?! "We need the clones on the front lines. The fighters from Christophsis will handle security on the planet just fine."

"But their number is four times the number of our own law enforcement forces and Rothana security officers combined!"

"Really?" the Twi'lek feigned surprise rather poorly. "Then a half-million-strong contingent will handle any possible threat."

"You're going to bring an entire armada here!" Nora continued to fume. "Two hundred Hammerheads! That's completely out of line…"

"Your corporate fleet of fifty battleships is far too weak a defense," the Jedi girl countered.

"Sufficient to keep Rothana's location a secret from the entire galaxy for decades," Nora snarled. "Now you've brought here nearly half a million people — soldiers and starship crew members, each of whom could compromise the secrecy of our location! The Separatists are scouring the stars to find their way here! And you, so to speak, are making their task easier!"

"Well, well… And here I thought your security system — including a hundred Golan-type platforms around the orbital shipyards, gravity mines along the entire approach route to the planet via secret hyperspace routes from Kamino and Molavar to Rothana, an IFF recognition system, and over ten thousand Small craft on the planet and in orbital hangars — was more than adequate protection for a single planet," metallic notes appeared in the Jedi's voice.

"You are quite well-informed about our defense systems," the girl grew wary. "For what purpose did you collect this data?"

"All information was provided by Kuat Drive Yards," the Twi'lek shrugged. "It's described in the supporting materials for the 'Ice Fang' project. The very one under which RHE built a fleet of ships and military equipment for the Grand Army of the Republic for over ten years. It seems," the blue-skinned woman tapped her finger theatrically on her lips, "this contract is still in effect, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Nora forced out. The realization that she had messed up with her "bullying" of an Order member sobered the girl up a bit. She needed to keep herself in check — she could lose even what she had now. The Order owned shares in Kuat Drive Yards — the parent organization of Rothana Heavy Engineering. And their word meant a lot to the Kuat family. Hutt take this policy of pleasing shareholders!

"In that case, I see no obstacle to you fulfilling the demands of Grand Moff Dougan," the Twi'lek's eyes gleamed. "They are simple and will not require any expense from you. The military contingent is provided for by the System Army. No need to worry about feeding half a million extra mouths. Isn't that right, Colonel Ameron?"

Nora had almost forgotten that in the office, besides herself and the Jedi, there was another individual. And, it had to be admitted, quite a striking one.

Over two meters tall, the man was clad in armor of red metal — gleaming in the rays of artificial light — worn over a matte black jumpsuit (whereas ordinary soldiers wore simple chrome-plated armor). He wore no helmet, so his masculine, completely clean-shaven face could be seen in every detail. Brown-eyed, with stern features, a strong muscular neck, and a square jaw, he gave the impression of a confident and uncompromising killer who could massacre the inhabitants of an entire settlement for breakfast, then drink a cup of caf without leaving the scene.

Nora had encountered this type of man more than once — Rothana's security service abounded with such individuals. But they were unquestionably inferior to the colonel in size. And his heavy, oppressive gaze made everything inside the girl that could contract shrivel up.

"Correct, General Secura," a low bass rumbled through the office. The man, standing behind his commander, made not the slightest movement. Nora nearly shuddered with revulsion. It felt as if this man was on a short leash held by the alien. How disgusting.

"Perhaps you'd be so kind as to share your plans for Rothana, Colonel?" the corporate head inquired caustically.

The man, practically nailing her to the back of her chair with his gaze, walked over to the desk and placed a small holoprojector on its surface.

"Admiral Zaarin's fleet is still being assembled at Christophsis and will arrive at Rothana no earlier than in a week. That time is sufficient for my eleven corps to take key positions and strategic nodes on Rothana under protection," the Colonel said.

Nora's eyes widened. Were they…?

"Four corps we will deploy for the defense of the orbital shipyards — roughly one legion at each. Also, our people will take control of the Golan defense platforms. This will allow us to react quickly to any invasion attempts," the Christophsian continued. "Three corps will handle the protection of the mines, the ore-processing plants, the smelting workshops, and other industrial facilities. Another two will be directly responsible for guarding the assembly plants for ground equipment. The final two corps will guard the administrative and residential buildings. Director," he looked at the Kuat native. "Inform your subordinates that, as of today, the hyperspace relay stations and all other communications centers will be under the control of my men…"

"But…!"

"I wasn't finished," the man interrupted her. "We are also taking over surface patrol functions, the installation of anti-ship artillery, planetary shield generators…"

"The Planetary Defense Forces handle that!"

"As long as we are on Rothana, your corporate soldiers will only perform police functions and maintain law and order, nothing more," Romulus cut in. "The defense of the system is now our task. And any contact with the outside world will only be made after receiving the appropriate authorization from me personally or my deputies."

"And what about the corporate fleet?" the girl asked in bewilderment. Confusion reigned in her head. How had the management of Kuat Drive Yards agreed to this? It was one thing to reorient all of RHE's work to the needs of specific system armies — the ones closest to Rothana — and quite another to allow outsiders direct control over the defense capability of an important strategic world!

"Until Admiral Zaarin and his fleet arrive, their task remains the same," Secura chimed in. "Then they can withdraw their ships to long-term parking and stay out of the way."

"This is nonsense!" Nora cried out. "You are effectively occupying our planet!"

"We are following the orders of our command," the Colonel remarked coldly.

"You don't seriously think that Grand Moff Dougan decided to seize your planet right under the nose of the entire galaxy, do you?" the mockery in the Jedi's voice was too obvious.

"You try it," Nora snorted. "Our second-generation Mandators will turn any invasion fleet to dust."

The barb she had aimed at the Jedi had every reason to exist.

The Mandator-class Star Dreadnought had been realized in metal about two decades before the start of the current war. There were only seven of them in the entire galaxy — even Kuat couldn't afford more, despite its almost unlimited financial resources. For the first time in a thousand years, the Military Academy on Anaxes — the Republic Fleet's training ground — had assigned a warship the class of "dreadnought," something that hadn't happened in the past millennium.

The enormous starship, clad from bow to stern in heavy armor that even ultra-modern turbolasers couldn't penetrate, though it had a slow sublight speed and wasn't particularly agile in hyperspace, was ideal for protecting corporate assets. Superbly armed, it had caused quite a stir in the galaxy as soon as the first ship of the series left the slipways. The Trade Federation was seething with bile — after all, its own Lucrehulks could no longer stand up to such a vessel. Nor could any starship in the galaxy, to be honest. The scandal was a big one. Especially when the existence of seven such giants became known. The matter was only hushed up after numerous bribes to senators and promises from the company's management that these ships would be used exclusively for the defense of Kuat's assets: three in the Kuat sector itself, and one each in the Azur, Ixtlar, Alsakan, and Humbarine sectors, where the company had interests. Unfortunately, only four of these ships had survived to the present day. The Humbarine dreadnought had been destroyed during a devastating attack on that sector by General Grievous's armada, after whose invasion not even living witnesses remained. The ships from the Azur and Alsakan sectors had participated in the blockade of Foerost and were severely damaged during the endless battles. Kuat had profited handsomely from the loss of those ships — no wonder that after the destruction of three vessels, they had offered the Republic to continue maintaining the siege with the last Mandator from the Ixtlar sector — in exchange for generous gratuities. No one had offered the Republic a larger number of such star monsters — because Kuat itself needed forces for its own protection.

Besides, the indestructible might of Kuat itself needed to be restored.

That was precisely why Rothana Heavy Engineering had received the order to create a new version of this ship.

The Mandator II-class Star Dreadnought that replaced them had even heavier armor, improved armament, and an enhanced hyperdrive. It was faster than its predecessor, and the updated armor and defense systems had turned it into a dangerous opponent. Now even the super-heavy turbolasers with which the Republic's new projects — the Predator-class Star Destroyers — were armed, were not the greatest threat to it. And not at all because it itself had hundreds of such mounts in its arsenal. Its enormous hull could withstand any enemy attack — that is, if the enemy managed to penetrate its deflectors, whose power was the envy of any ground-based reflecting screens produced by the CIS.

The Mandator II-class dreadnought was the future guarantor of Kuat Drive Yards' power. For now, only two existed — and both were in a relatively finished state; months were needed to complete all the work. But even now, these monsters guarded the jewel in the glittering crown of Kuat Drive Yards — the Rothana system. Any enemy that came here would be crushed like a parasite.

The exception, of course, was the new dreadnoughts of the Confederacy itself. The appearance of the Malevolent on the galactic stage had shaken the minds of Rothana Heavy Engineering's management, forcing them to spend colossal sums to complete both of their own dreadnoughts. The ease with which that ship and the fleet following it had dealt with the Mandator in the Humbarine sector had shocked everyone without exception. The eight-kilometer Kuat dreadnought had perished, struck down by the enemy's ion main battery, despite the enemy being smaller in size. The Kuat people had breathed a sigh of relief at the destruction of General Grievous's flagship — they could now cut the budgets for completing the Mandator IIs, which had swollen to exorbitant proportions. And, as soon as that was done, it turned out the Separatists had a sister ship of the deceased Malevolent — the Sovereign. Even without the ion cannon capable of disabling entire squadrons, it was still extremely heavily armed with heavy turbolasers. A battle between such giants could last for hours, if not days. So Kuat once again opened a credit line to complete its own Star Dreadnoughts. No one had any doubt that if the unthinkable happened and the Sovereign ended up in the Rothana system, the two giants — no matter how great the Separatist vessel's advantage in the number of guns — would be able to stop it. For the same reason, Kuat kept its three first-generation dreadnoughts.

What was there to say about a potential threat from two hundred Hammerheads? Yes, their combined power would be enough to knock down the shields, but by that time their numbers would be so significantly reduced that they certainly wouldn't be able to inflict irreparable damage on the mastodons.

Getting no reaction from the Jedi or the Christophsian, the girl sighed and asked:

"Is that all?"

"I do," the colonel declared. Instead of a military salute, he nodded, picked up the holo-projector on which he had been showing the future deployment locations of his subordinates, and silently left the office. Nora watched his lean and muscular figure (not even armor could hide the abundance of muscles) with her eyes, then shifted her gaze to the jedi.

"Something else, Knight Secura?"

A slight smile played on the Twi'lek's lips, and playful devils danced in her eyes.

"Of course," she chuckled, taking an information crystal from her clothing. Although, where would there be pockets in her outfit? That clothing only covered what needed covering.

Taking the data storage from the jedi, the girl instantly inserted it into her Computer. Some schemas and drawings flashed across the screen.

"Excuse me, but what is this?" Nora frowned. Instead of an answer, a schematic of a spaceship appeared on the screen. Triangular in shape, with a squat superstructure in the aft section and a bisected bow section. A hemisphere peeked out from under the hull, very reminiscent of Raith Sienar's solar ionization generator — at least, those samples that were known thanks to ubiquitous Kuati industrial spies.

"Blueprints of a new warship that Rothana is to build for the Tenth Systems Army," the Jedi declared.

"I thought I knew all the types of ships our company produces for the Grand Army of the Republic," Nora said in confusion, quickly scanning the technical specifications of the ship. Even a quick glance at the schemas made it clear that the new starship, although inferior in size to the Venator and even more so to the Predator, had an incomparably greater number of weapons. There were over thirty twin turbolaser turrets alone, grouped into batteries of four. Their well-placed positioning, with a slight offset relative to the destroyer's sides, allowed firing at an enemy ahead using all main caliber guns. And that did not count the single turbolaser cannons with which both sides were studded. Overwhelming anti-aircraft armament, fairly spacious hangars...

A case where the creator had fully realized the traditional triangular shape of the Galactic Republic's capital ships for maximum target engagement efficiency. Combined with anti-aircraft cover and a spacious starfighter wing, this warship was head and shoulders above the Venators, not to mention the Acclamators. And vague doubts tormented the girl: had a worthy competitor to the Predators been developed at Kuat...

"This ship was not developed at Kuat," Aayla replied.

"Yes, I see," Nora responded. "Raith Sienar's characteristic creative approach is hard to miss. And his solar ionization generator, used as the main power source, speaks for itself. However, I see that part of the schemas have been removed. The ship lacks a central Computer..."

"Take my word for it — it's there," Aayla chuckled. "It will just be installed in a different location. Your task is to start producing these ships instead of the Venators and Predators."

"I certainly have an idea that the Tenth Systems Army is peculiar in matters of equipment procurement," Nora said slowly. "But to produce ships without any prototypes..."

"Don't worry, prototypes have already been built and performed excellently. Are there any problems with executing this order?"

"I don't see any particular difficulties," Nora shrugged. "But such ships will cost more than the Venators and even the Predators. In the quantities you are requesting, we can, of course, build these your..." — she checked the ship's name on the Computer monitor — "Ravagers. However, the sums that Jent will have to pay for construction are simply enormous... forgive me, but I'm not sure that even the Jedi Order has such reserves of credits."

"By a happy coincidence," the Twi'lek smiled charmingly, "Jent has access to a numbered account opened many years ago at the Kuat Drive Yards corporation."

"I highly doubt that," the girl smiled. "A stupid joke. Especially coming from a jedi," Nora thought as she entered into the Computer the numbered account data dictated by Secura as the payment source for this strange order. Numbered accounts had been used many hundreds of years ago by small shareholders. Now, when most shares were distributed among specific individuals — including the Jedi Order as one of the shareholders — such an approach was no longer used.

Yes, the account was very old. Since then, Kuat's programs had changed hundreds of times. But the Computer obediently accepted the balance inquiry. A simple procedure — if the client didn't have the money to pay for a long-term contract upfront, the conversation would be completely different.

The Jedi, for her part, confirmed the transaction, allowing Nora to learn...

The native of Kuat felt sweat break out on her forehead.

"As you can see, judging by the number of zeroes in the account," Aayla Secura said slowly, "Grand Moff Dougan can buy not only the fleet we need, but also Rothana Heavy Engineering along with all its technical personnel. And you, as well."

"Y-yes..." her throat tightened with tension. What a staggering amount of money! Forget RHE! With these funds, half of Kuat's shares could be bought out! And hundreds of future generations could live in luxury! "I... I will inform the shipyards to immediately clear the slipways of the hulls of the Venators and Predators being built there."

"By all means," Aayla smiled.

* * *

"Why me?" Ahsoka wrinkled her nose as if she had eaten a sour fruit. "I don't need this for free."

"That's what Rick said," Oli shrugged. "If you want, you can contact him and tell him everything you think about this idea."

"What makes you think I have direct access to him?" Ahsoka asked in bewilderment.

"Hm, I thought he kept his women on a short leash," the girl gave the Togruta a bored look, taking a bite of a piki—a fairly common fruit. Alcohol was made from it; at least, several younglings had been expelled from the Temple for such experiments.

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" Tano asked with a sigh.

"Ex-act-ly," the Emperor's apprentice mumbled with her mouth full, working her jaws diligently. "Don't touch what's not yours..."

"At least you're not trying to fry me with Lightnings anymore," the Togruta lamented, rubbing her buttock. Oli had "accidentally" hit her there during the Hypori cleanup, perking up the former friend who had been disheartened by the endless droid slaughter.

Good thing that with Dougan's departure, they didn't have to languish on Hypori—the "women and Twi'lek team" stayed behind to finish off the Separatists and hunt for General Grievous (few believed he died after the orbital bombardment of his base; at least, the Grand Moff forbade thinking otherwise until every last piece of his body was found): the 178th Reconnaissance Corps of Knight Xiaan Amersu, the 190th Assault Corps of Master B'ink Utrill and her padawan Rennax Omani, and the 212th Reconnaissance Corps under the command of Racha Sitra. The one who worked hardest on the surface was Larant Tarak—after all, it was essentially her oversight that had led to heavy losses in ships and personnel. No wonder the "Gray Paladin" was trying tooth and nail to complete what she had started, in an attempt to rehabilitate herself in the eyes of her superior, Grand Moff Dougan.

At first, Aayla Secura had also been cutting down droids on the planet alongside them, but Dougan had sent her somewhere on a separate assignment, while the 327th Star Corps, severely depleted, along with the 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th Corps, were transferred to Christophsis to recover after the bloody meat grinder. Ahsoka and Oli returned with them to the headquarters of the Tenth Systems Army. And, as Dougan's adjutant, the red-haired Mara, reported, each of the girls had their own assignments.

Oli was sent straight to the Citadel to see Master Fay—to continue her training.

But as for Ahsoka...

"It's just my break," Oli informed her. "And Master Fay explained that it's irrational to waste my power getting rid of a little pest like you."

"Very funny," Ahsoka grumbled. The girls were standing on a small balcony of the Citadel overlooking one of the inner courtyards. They watched the commotion below—in the luxurious garden of ch'ala trees, a large pack of children was rampaging. A few young sentients sat apart from them, dressed in traditional jedi robes. "I have no idea why I have to bother with these children."

"Maybe the Emperor is nurturing your maternal instinct?" Oli laughed.

"Very funny," Ahsoka repeated. Racking her memory, she added, "I don't recall any cases of half-breeds from unions of humans and Togruta... You were a padawan under Jocasta, you should know..."

"I do know. But I'm not telling. I frankly don't give a damn." Oli popped the last piece of fruit into her mouth and wiped her hands with a napkin. "My break's over."

Without saying goodbye, the girl turned on her heels and disappeared into the corridor of the Citadel.

"You're so difficult," Ahsoka sighed.

Yes, Oli had become calmer. The outbursts of rage, during which entire X-wings flew around the hangar, had passed. But... Tano would never admit it in public, but she had begun to genuinely fear Starstone.

They would never be friends again—that was something she couldn't even dream of anymore.

And apparently, the girl truly hated the Togruta for her relationship with Oli's teacher. Oh, Force, if anyone knew that losing your virginity to a specific man could bring so many problems!

It was easier to cure an STD than to convince Starstone that sex with Dougan was like an "achievement." Like, I can, I know how, I practice. The Emperor's apprentice took everything too close to heart. She needed to ask Rick to talk to her. Let him finally fuck her, before Oli learned some Sith spell and destroyed half the galaxy in a fit of jealousy!

Though... She wouldn't impale everyone the Emperor had fucked on a lightsaber, would she? That list of victims would number in the dozens...

Yeah, the Dark Side was waving a friendly hand at Starstone. And smiling.

Sighing heavily again, the Togruta proceeded to the turbolift and descended to the level where the park was located. No matter how much she avoided the assignment, she still had to carry it out.

Running into a couple of Nikto jedi at the park entrance, the girl smiled at their greeting. How nice that in Jent, no one cared at all that she was an exiled padawan from the Order. Perhaps because the Systems Army itself stood apart from the rest of the galaxy, simmering in its own juice, so to speak, or because Dougan had gathered under his wing Order members who mostly had their heads on straight and weren't so bogged down by jedi dogmas.

Silently proceeding to the young Order members waiting for her, Ahsoka approached a young woman—the clan instructor—and greeted her quietly.

"Oh," Du Mahn smiled, "padawan Tano. Hello."

"Glad to see you, Instructor," Ahsoka made a slight bow. "Only I'm no longer a padawan."

"Yes, I heard about that," the woman's smile faded. "I'm so sorry..."

"Don't be," the Togruta smiled. "What's done is done."

"Indeed," Du nodded.

They had known each other for a long time. Almost immediately after her appearance at the jedi Temple over ten years ago, Ahsoka had ended up in the Hawk-bat Clan, which Du had already been leading at that time. Now she had a completely different group of children under her, but back then...

Du Mahn had given Ahsoka a lot. She taught her to feel the Force, fostered the girl's development in every way. While many mentors aimed to knock the nonsense out of children, making them calmer, Du preached a completely different approach to training younglings. Allowing them to remain themselves.

Nurturing individuality in younglings was often held against the mentor by other jedi, who chose their padawans from among the young Order members. Few wanted a rebellious padawan instead of an obedient little pet who would absorb with an open mouth all the little that an adult jedi could give them up until the Trials.

Ah, if only Du could be introduced to Nadia or Kira—then the Hawk-bat Clan would truly become a "wild gang," as they were often called in the Temple. And what those two dozen brats could learn from ancient Order members...

"How is the new generation of jedi?" she inquired, pointing to two dozen toddlers of various species running all over the park, constantly trying to climb the ch'ala trees. Carefree, unaware of the horrors of war, of death...

"I won't say you were better or worse than them in your time," Du smiled. "After Master Yoda assigned you as a padawan to Anakin Skywalker, practically all the remaining clan members were snatched up by other masters and knights. Only Chase was left..."

"Really?" Ahsoka was surprised. "But she was one of the best in the whole clan!"

"Not all jedi like rebellious and stubborn padawans," the instructor said sadly. "Same with Chase. She was one of the most capable jedi of her time, but... Anyway, I decided she would make a fine padawan with me."

"Is that so," Ahsoka giggled. "I can't imagine Chase Piru as a mentor."

"And you'd be wrong," the jedi remarked in a mentor's tone. "Not everyone believed in you either—that anyone would even dare to teach you."

"That's true," Tano instantly became despondent. It wasn't easy to remember that all the jedi who had crossed the girl's path fled from her as if from the rakghoul plague.

"And so Chase managed to reveal herself in a new field," Du smiled, pointing to a tall black-skinned girl with a long braid standing near a tree, on whose branches a human girl of about six to eight was squealing and laughing wildly. As nimble as a squirrel, she flitted from one branch to another, bursting with resonant laughter, and cheerfully exchanged words with Chase, who stood by the tree begging her to come down and stop clowning around. "Well... it doesn't work with everyone."

"And who is that youngling?" Ahsoka asked.

"Sophia," Du Mahn sighed, "my biggest headache. After you, of course."

"Is that a compliment?" Ahsoka smiled.

"Of course," Du replied seriously. "To outdo you in mischief, you'd have to try hard. Although Sophia is only seven—at her age, you were a real docile nuna. It was later, in your teens, that some wild thing bit you..."

"No one bit me," the joke was as old as the hills, but its sound still warmed her soul. It evoked memories of bygone days. "I just grew up..."

"That's for sure," Du smiled. "When you left the clan, you were small—about a meter and a half tall, no more. And now look how you've shot up in a year..."

True enough. Leaving the Temple still an awkward teenager, Ahsoka had blossomed as a representative of her species by the time of her exile. She had rounded in the right places, grown taller... Indeed, it was clear why Dougan hadn't driven her away then. Not an awkward angular teenager, but a young woman. It was nice when that was noticed. During the war, you didn't really look at yourself. And even if you did, you didn't notice how you changed...

"So what are you doing on Christophsis?" Du asked.

"I... uh... I'm serving in the army."

"What?" the woman was taken aback. "But you were expelled..."

"Like any other citizen of the Republic," the Togruta shrugged. "The future of the galaxy isn't indifferent to me. And Master Dougan invited me to join. I didn't refuse."

"Hm..." the instructor was silent for a moment. Then, lowering her voice slightly, she added, "You know, not everyone in the Temple likes your commander."

"I wasn't particularly popular there either," the girl retorted. "You can't please everyone."

"That's not what I'm talking about now," Du shook her head. "They say he's fond of using Dark Side techniques."

"Fond... Ha! Professional!" the Togruta mentally snorted with laughter.

"Yes, I've heard something like that too," Ahsoka said in a neutral tone, keeping her eyes on Sophia. Something about the fidget attracted her. Either her spontaneity, or her zest, or her ability to draw an audience—the entire clan had already gathered around the flowerbed where the tree grew, in whose crown the girl was playing. Listening to the Force, Tano noted that this particular human whelp possessed an extraordinary connection to the Force.

"And how many midi-chlorians does Sophia have?" she asked the mentor.

"Around eleven thousand," the woman said with a hint of pride.

"Wow! Even among masters, there are those with a much weaker connection to the Force," the Togruta assessed.

"Yes, she has a great future," Du agreed. Then, watching the girl hook her legs around a branch and hang upside down while continuing to swing, she quickly and with a touch of concern added, "If she doesn't break her neck first!"

Together with the jedi instructor, Ahsoka approached the flowerbed, where Du Mahn, stepping up to the fidget, gently tapped her on the head with her knuckles, asking if anyone was living inside her skull. The Togruta smiled, remembering that the mentor had done the same with her.

"Get down before you get hurt," Du said sternly but softly. The girl laughed, slid off the branch, flipped in the air, and landed on her feet.

"You see!" a ringing voice echoed through the entire garden. "And you were scared! Even the uniform isn't wrinkled!"

With her hands on her hips, Sophia proudly stretched out first one leg, then the other, showing off the absence of wrinkles on her pants. At the same time, she didn't forget to cast a triumphant look at her clanmates standing around the flowerbed.

"Next time you'll tear your pants," grimaced Chase, who was standing nearby. Catching eyes with her former friend, Ahsoka smiled at her. But she pretended not to notice. "And you'll be strutting around naked in front of everyone..."

"Won't tear them!" Sophia made a face, sticking her tongue out at the padawan. "You're mean!"

"Am not!" From the pursed lips of the black-skinned girl, Ahsoka realized she was at her limit. Soon the "kettle would boil over," as her clanmates used to say when describing Chase's hysterics. With or without reason.

"Are too!" the girl stomped her foot, crossed her arms, and stared off in the opposite direction with an offended look. And as soon as her gaze landed on a specific being...

"Ahsoka Tano!" a shriek, more like a volley from Geonosian sound weapons, painfully struck the montrals, momentarily disorienting even the commander. The Togruta, stunned by what had happened, hadn't even time to recover before thin little arms were already hugging her legs. "I'm Sonic, I'm your fan."

"Sonic?" Ahsoka was surprised. "I thought your name was Sophia..."

"Sonic!" The girl furrowed her brow angrily. "Sonic! Sonic! Sonic!"

"She's not very fond of that name," explained Du, who had walked up. Stroking the girl's head, the mentor explained, "She once ran away from me during a tour of Coruscant. We searched for her for four days, exhausted, but it turned out she was all the way on the lower level."

"I was exploring!" the girl replied angrily. "I need to know what world I'm growing up in!"

Ahsoka, seeing the absurdity of the situation, couldn't help but laugh. It was so hilarious—hearing completely logical and correct things from children.

"And how did they find you?" she asked the girl.

"They didn't!" the girl grumbled. "Mandalorians brought me back and dropped me off near the Temple."

"Is that so?" Ahsoka giggled. "What a storyteller you are."

"Yes, she loves to do that," Du smiled. Ahsoka noticed that the girl pursed her lips, clearly disagreeing with everyone's opinion, and realized something was about to happen. You can't be so harsh with a child. So what if she likes to fantasize...

"She lies without blushing," Chase poured fuel on the fire. "She's been buzzing in everyone's ears about how she spent all that time in some dive on the lower levels where Mandalorians gather, and the owner of that dump is a Toydarian."

"It was true!" the girl stopped hugging her idol and stared at the padawan with malice. "They fed me, didn't hurt me, and asked where I lived and how I got to the lower levels!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Chase waved her hand. "And then they gave you a ride to the Temple."

"YES!" Ahsoka noticed with alarm that Sonic had clenched her hands into fists. And the Force... My god, how could they not see it?

"Stop lying," Chase sighed. "You just came back to the Temple right before the attack on the Temple that the Mandalorians were involved in, so you made it up..."

"I DIDN'T MAKE IT UP!!!!" the girl screamed.

Ahsoka surrounded herself with a protective cocoon of the Force at maximum, neutralizing the sound waves that the little one, amplifying many times over with the Force, was using as a weapon. It caused everyone standing nearby to fall to the ground, futilely trying to cover their ears and ear holes with their limbs. However, it helped little.

Because the gifted monkey was magnificent in her hysterics.

She stood on the flowerbed, continuously shrieking in her high-pitched voice. And in an instant, she laid out everyone present with a Force Scream.

Nadia had told her about a similar technique used by adepts of the Dark Side. At the peak of their emotions, some individuals could use sound waves, emanating from their rage-filled scream, to send their enemies into shock or even kill them. Not to mention destroying surrounding objects.

But Grell had said that only a handful could use such an ability—the most powerful and learned Sith Lords. And that statement didn't square with what a little girl, a youngling, a member of the jedi Order, was doing.

But facts are stubborn things.

Despite her progress in comprehending the Unified Force, all Ahsoka could oppose the little one was a Barrier that she fueled with all her might. She couldn't even move—all her strength went into maintaining the defense.

Her consciousness flared with fierce rage. Ahsoka, meeting the raging girl's eyes, smiled at her as if to say, "It's okay."

"I believe you!" she shouted. And how could she not trust the child's story when she knew the details of that very attack? It was incredible that the girl had been in the Mandalorians' lair. But could a child make up something that matched reality?

Sonic, seeing that among the sentients surrounding her there was at least one who didn't doubt her truthfulness, abruptly stopped her cry, just as she had started it. A ringing silence fell over the garden. Though... it had to be admitted, now it looked more like a battlefield. Wrecked flowerbeds, uprooted trees, sparking cleaning droids that had been unlucky enough to crawl out of their niches in the midst of the bacchanalia with the firm intention of tidying up...

And in the middle of all this chaos—a seven-year-old girl, smiling sweetly at the Togruta.

"Want to play?" she offered.

Ahsoka, looking around at the younglings and jedi slowly getting to their feet, most of them with blood flowing from their ears, felt a shiver run down her spine.

"Of course we'll play, Sonic," she assured her. "Just don't scream anymore. The Grand Moff won't like it very much if you collapse his residence."

"Our brains will burst faster," Chase commented louder than necessary. Ahsoka noticed blood coming from the girl's ears—her eardrums had apparently burst. Well... that would teach her not to bully a child.

"You won't scold me, will you, Mentor Mon?" the girl asked guiltily, looking at the jedi who was wiping blood from under her nose. "I tried... but I'm bad with peace..."

"Oh, of course not," Du smiled gently. Ahsoka shuddered, seeing that the whites of the mentor's eyes had turned red. The blood vessels seemed to have burst, filling her eyes with blood. "We flew here to help you after all..."

"Then I'll play," the girl laughed, instantly dashing to another part of the garden. Leaping straight into a hole left by an uprooted tree, she enthusiastically began digging in the dirt. She was completely uninterested in the fact that her clanmates were experiencing some of the most unpleasant moments of their lives. Over there, a Zabrak boy was even spitting blood.

"They'll be fine," Du said quietly, nodding toward the younglings. "It's happened before..."

"Why didn't you stop her when Sonic started calling on the Dark Side?" Ahsoka asked.

"It's practically impossible," the jedi sighed sadly. "Last time, she got upset when one of the younglings said you were expelled from the Order because you were a criminal..."

"That's the official version of the Order," Ahsoka shrugged. "As I understand it, something bad happened?"

"Yes and no... Then their conversation turned to Master Dougan actually being a Sith Lord... And he, like you, is her idol... In short, the camp on Bogden 3 needs to be rebuilt from scratch."

"What... the hell," Ahsoka stopped herself just in time, remembering that Du couldn't stand swearing in her presence. "So that's why you flew here?"

"I spoke with Master Yoda," Mon replied evasively. "He advised visiting you."

"I don't see the logic..."

"You know the Grand Master," the jedi smiled. "He never speaks directly. He just hinted that Master Dougan knows how to control his emotions. And has some experience with the Dark Side. You understand, in the struggle for the lives of future generations, it's worth trying all methods."

"So you want Master Dougan to help Sonic learn to control her emotions?" Tano realized the meaning of what was said.

Chase, standing nearby, just snorted contemptuously and walked away. Du watched her go with a sad look and said:

"Well... it doesn't work with everyone."

"Don't be upset with her. She's disappointed that she didn't become a Jedi Knight's apprentice and isn't participating in the war. Give it a little more time, and she'll understand that her gift is teaching..."

"Doubtful, honestly," Ahsoka thought. "More likely Sonic will take her apart at the DNA level."

"The Grand Moff is currently absent," she reported. "But I think when he's free, he'll be able to give the girl some advice..."

"Or, more likely, he'll win her over to his side, and none of you will be able to do a thing about it," she added mentally.

"You see," Dju said with a sad smile. "It's not just about Sofia."

Ahsoka looked at her former mentor in surprise.

"Dju, you're not saying that...?"

"Exactly that, Ahsoka," she said with immense anguish in her voice. "All the children in the Hawk-bat clan are especially prone to the Dark Side. And every single one of them is unusually sensitive to the Force... That's why our training base was located outside Coruscant — there are plenty of opponents in the Order to raising children like this."

The strongest of their generation.

Of course, all of them — each of the seventeen children in the clan — are inferior to Sofia, but not critically: the weakest has about eight thousand midi-chlorians, and the strongest just over nine. Their potential is greater than that of any of the current Knights or Masters...

"And we're all screwed," Ahsoka thought sadly.

A full eighteen extremely gifted Force adepts, and who can easily wield Dark Side techniques... The Jedi themselves presented Dougan with a most valuable gift. Nearly two dozen "solid middleweights," so to speak.

Searching her memory, Ahsoka couldn't recall a single clan among her peers that could boast such a level of Force sensitivity. Clearly, such adepts were needed by the Empire — they would fit perfectly into the ideology of the Imperial Knights. They just needed to be polished...

All that remained was to make sure the kids didn't blow up the planet before his return.

* * *

The details, shadowed at the top, became distinctly clear upon approach.

The Fury, piloted by its permanent pilots — Fives and Joker — was slowly, almost leisurely, approaching the massive bulk of the Lord, frozen in the midst of endless space. The meeting place — a remote and lifeless star system that you wouldn't even find on star charts — was in the area of responsibility of Adi's army and was clearly chosen by Kirvan as the meeting place for a reason. The vast empty spaces of the system allowed the crew of the Separatist dreadnought to control all the space around them. The only thing that could prevent the Lord's sensors from detecting uninvited guests was a dying pulsar nearing the end of its existence.

The dreadnought kept a respectful distance from it — enough to react if Republic ships suddenly appeared in the system, using the star's electromagnetic interference. Its weapon systems were activated in anticipation of uninvited guests. Yes, Kirvan had prepared for the meeting.

But he underestimated just how often life had dunked my head in shit. Did he really think I'd fly here unprepared?

"Cloaking systems are operating normally," Ann reported, looking up from the instrument readings. "They can't see us..."

"I don't like all this sneaking around," Khem Val grumbled. "We should engage this bastard in open combat and tear him apart!"

"Well, if you're so smart, you can start singing the 'Indomitable Union' right now," I suggested. Seeing the lack of understanding on the faces of those in the bridge, I sighed in resignation. What can you expect from the natives? "Distance to target?"

"Two minutes," Joker replied without turning his head, guiding the corvette practically scraping the hull of the enemy starship.

Viewing this monster up close was... fascinating.

Especially considering the fact that the enemies on board had no idea that the coveted enemy — that is, me — had arrived an hour early.

After Hypori, a setup from Sidious could be expected anywhere and in any form. The fifteen-hour time frame I'd been given to travel to the meeting point, to arrive on time, could only be covered on the Defender. I'd bet this was no accident. Sidious wanted me to fly headlong to save another Jedi. On a ship that was the least suited to facing Kirvan's four-kilometer dreadnought.

But screw you. We're not exactly amateurs either.

And even though I left Christophsis on the Defender, a completely different transport was waiting for us near the target.

The commandos had been sent here almost immediately after I received the "quest." It was thanks to them, who scouted everything out here practically on their bellies, that we had the opportunity to cause trouble for the enemy ahead of time.

The electromagnetic energy emitted by the pulsar hid the very fact of the Fury's exit from hyperspace from the dreadnought. Even though Sienar had done a good job masking the engine emissions during that process, I really didn't want to risk the element of surprise. So we shielded ourselves from the enemy with the pulsar, then, switching to stealth mode, flew around the star in a wide arc and were now approaching our destination.

"Huge bastard," Alpha lamented. "It's going to take a lot of baradium to blow that thing up."

"An entire fleet couldn't gut it," Hevy responded. "Though they did give it a good pounding."

Listening to the echoes of their conversations, I curiously examined the traces of the recent battle.

While not fatal, Gallia's ships had well and truly shoved turbolaser bolts up the Lord's tailpipe.

Almost all of its hull was mottled with traces of energy burns. Dozens of turbolaser cannons and turrets had been silenced. Laser welders sent sprays of fire into space, fusing together giant sheets of metal — a significant part of the hull near the bridge was exposed, damaged in the past battle. Droids were making repairs — well, right, they wouldn't just be lounging around while waiting for trouble to land on their durasteel asses.

Wide sections of the hull bristled with exposed frames and trusses — repair work there remained unfinished, providing access to the dreadnought's innards for swarms of multi-legged droids, on whose shoulders the task of restoring the ship fell. However, despite the fact that our presence was hidden from sensors by the Fury's cloaking technology, I cast a Force Cloak over the entire ship to save the surprise for Kirvan. It was too early for him to know the guests had arrived.

Something else was surprising. The massive starship, seen through the prism of the Force, resembled an awakened anthill. I could sense hundreds, if not thousands, of organic beings on board. Which was strange for a CIS warship, whose crew consisted only of droids. And if the organics were concentrated in one place, one could say they were slaves or prisoners. But the sparks of life wandered all over the ship, so it was practically impossible to be mistaken — there was a contingent of sentients on board. Crew? Technicians? Mercenaries? Pointless to guess — we'll board and find out then.

"Approaching the emergency airlock," Fives warned. The Fury, rounding the giant's hull, approached the bridge, extended on a massive "stalk." The place from which the aura of the Dark Side emanated. Kirvan was waiting for me on the bridge — and next to him, a tormented spark of life from the Tholothian pulsed.

"Everyone get ready." Alpha pulled his helmet over his head. The clones of his squad not occupied with flying the ship did the same, adding a final check of their weapons and equipment. The Force-users limited themselves to checking their comlinks.

Glancing at my wrist comm, I noted with satisfaction that all operation participants were connected.

Without unnecessary fuss, the clones and Force-users proceeded to the airlock compartment.

"We work fast, comrades," I reminded them. "In and out. A twenty-minute adventure."

"Yes, sir," Echo responded.

There was no need to repeat the plan right before the landing. Everyone, without exception, knew it by heart.

As soon as the interceptor docked with the emergency airlock, our entire squad swung into action. The entry hatch swung open, giving us access to the dreadnought's interior.

Finding the auxiliary console and connecting the astromech to it turned out to be a minute's work. Little Brother, sticking a probe into the receiving slot, began boring into the enemy operating system, uploading the ship's schematics to the strike team's computers while simultaneously calculating approach and withdrawal routes.

Alpha, having obtained the necessary information, along with his men, almost immediately ducked into a side branch of the service corridor. Only Joker, Simi, and my ever-present astromech droid remained on board the Fury — to guard what was possibly the squad's only guaranteed escape route. Besides, the astromech was our only guide through Kirvan's flagship.

I, meanwhile, took command of the operation's main strike force: both Dashades, Hexid, and Kaili, who had gone quiet in anticipation of the fight. We were about to stick our heads into the beast's lair. So it wouldn't hurt to use Battle Meditation.

Opening myself to the Force as usual, I expanded my sphere of perception, absorbing the other Force-users. A storm of emotions, conflicting moods... Precious seconds had to be spent turning the squad into a cohesive organism. Yes, it was time to stop the practice of grabbing whoever was nearby. I should either train all of my Hands for collective work using Meditation or assemble a full-fledged squad whose fighters would get used to each other, so we wouldn't waste time in the future calming minds unaccustomed to this kind of Force use.

Kirvan's Dark Side aura was felt literally everywhere on board the dreadnought.

We made our way through bundles of giant metal beams, cables, wrecked bulkheads, and melted support beams, wrapped in Force Cloaks to hide our presence.

I could feel his sticky, raging presence in the vast mass of metal and wiring. Like a beacon's guiding light, it became a reference point in the tangle of corridors and passages. From the outside, it looked much simpler — just a few dozen decks to get through, no big deal. But to do it without being detected was no simple task.

We had to slow down several times, and even stop altogether, when battle droid squads appeared on the horizon. They couldn't see us through the Force Cloak, but even while visually hiding our presence, we were still tangible. If anyone from the squad collided with them, an unnecessary brawl would start. While small groups of droids could be destroyed without much harm — as we'd seen, the tin cans didn't maintain constant contact with command — we didn't want to tangle with large groups.

The Lord was designed very thoughtfully, considering the shortcomings of the Malevolent. Every communication line was duplicated — and more than once. Every turbolift had a twin. The interior spaces were surrounded by more than one ring of service tunnels and compartments for the droid repair contingent. And it added a certain margin of safety to the dreadnought's main nodes — while on Republic ships any hit to the hull that breached the skin threatened decompression and the disabling of the compartment, on the Lord you had to dig through a couple of rows of auxiliary compartments to reach the desired target. A pretty smart approach — the outer hull could be damaged entirely, but the delicate innards of the starship would continue to work with the same efficiency. And repairing external damage didn't introduce any chaos into the crew's activities — simply because repair droids worked in the outer sections and didn't even intersect with the crew. This design concept allowed access to any point on the dreadnought via several routes.

We used a service turbolift to reach the deck we needed. Moving like ghosts from cover to cover, we approached a droid patrol guarding the exit from the service turbolift from behind. Armed with short-range E-5 carbines, half a dozen B-1s stood motionless with their backs to the turbolift, not even reacting to the arrival of an apparently empty cabin. They just stupidly stared at the lack of passengers and continued chattering about some nonsense. Brainless creations.

A narrow catwalk led from the turbolift platform to their position, which we covered in seconds. Ignoring the droids, we easily flowed around their flanks, then slipped through the wide-open corridor doors. There was a temptation to dump all six morons into the turbolift shaft abyss, but who knows what consequences that might have?

After passing the first row of service compartments, we approached a bulkhead leading to an adjacent corridor and almost came nose-to-nose with a large squad of B-2s, which, like statues, were standing in the corridor we needed for no apparent reason. There was nothing here that would keep a hundred super droids so close to the combat bridge.

I smirked secretly. Well, of course, there wasn't.

Kirvan, even if he was a Sith bastard, wasn't wasting time either. I bet similar squads are waiting for us in almost every room near the target. An ambush we were bound to walk into as soon as we appeared on the bridge. Simple and effective.

"I assume we have no alternative?" echoed a question in my mind, authored by Kaili.

"The shortest path is through them," Hexid echoed.

Through the Battle Meditation, I could feel the desire of the Zabrak and the Dashades to tear into the enemy's battle formations and chop them into small pieces. Honestly, after so many minutes of dreary "stealth," I wanted to send a few "tin cans" to the scrap heap myself. But... too early.

Eliminate the threat before it appears? Logical. But it would alert the sentients on the bridge.

Ignore it? It would cost us dearly if things went wrong. Which, as usual, they would.

"Khem, Ak'gal — you stay here," I ordered. The gray-skinned Dashade grumbled for form's sake but obediently separated from the squad. His impatience to finish off the enemy was practically rolling off him in waves. But nothing to be done — an order is an order. Ak'gal understood this without words, so in complete silence, he called his impatient kin to calmness.

Going back, I touched my comlink.

"Little Brother." The astromech droid beeped softly in response. "We need an alternative route."

The mechanic was silent for a second, then my wrist comm blinked, having received updated data. Projecting a miniature hologram, I carefully studied the proposed route. Well, maybe we'll get lucky this time.

The squad, obeying my mental order, followed me.

The only alternative to the compromised route (besides going through the "main entrance," of course) was to go back a bit, descend one deck, and then use a technical tunnel for service droids. However, even in this case, a joyful encounter with battle droids wasn't guaranteed — no matter how hard Little Brother tried, he couldn't track the movements of all enemy fighters. The dreadnought's surveillance system was undergoing maintenance. For whatever reason.

Or it was disabled on purpose — because activating it without the bridge finding out about our tricks was impossible. Yeah, the Seppies seemed to have upgraded their security system too. Getting smarter, the devils, right before our eyes.

Reaching the coveted hatch, we ducked into it one by one.

Descent, a short crawl through a not-very-wide tunnel, and an exhausting climb back up. And all this in terrible cramped conditions. Even Master Yoda in the third episode had it more comfortable escaping from the Senate.

Finally, the passage widened, joining several others in a space large enough for the three of us to stand. So, a collector between decks, from which droids could reach various ends of the level where the bridge was located.

The guiding fire of Kirvan's rage indicated that the Baron was located about fifty meters ahead and to the right. So, it seemed we had bypassed the bridge from below and emerged on the opposite side from the original entry point. Only this time, we weren't between the "buffer" levels, but in rooms directly adjacent to the bridge. According to the map, auxiliary systems were located here... Excellent.

Opening the exit hatch slightly, I noticed several B-1s stationed near control terminals. The droids were stupidly monitoring the readings on the monitors, occasionally getting into short conversations. It took a few minutes to figure out what exactly this room was responsible for.

Duplicate control systems for bulkheads, fire doors, gravity, and everything else that depended on crew comfort. Although... what comfort for droids? Even the air on starships whose crew was droids was an unnecessary luxury. I remembered reading a explanatory document from Republic Command about this. The gist was that some time ago, a bill was passed banning the use of starships without an atmosphere breathable for most sentients in the galaxy. Strangely enough, the lobbying of the Trade Federation and the Techno Union couldn't break this initiative — despite their obsession with robotic crews. So they had to build starships with systems they didn't need. Of course, after leaving the Republic, the need for this disappeared, but as it turned out, droids weren't the most productive commanders. So organic commanders started appearing on bridges. Who, naturally, needed an atmosphere.

It turned into a vicious circle — when they wanted to dismantle the atmosphere generators, they couldn't; when they could, they no longer could. So it wasn't just me that life punished at every opportunity in this galaxy.

The door to the room opened, and another droid entered. As far as I could see, there were no droid squads behind it. On the contrary, several elements of the combat bridge that were familiar from memory came into view. So, the path was clear. But still, we'd have to break through with a fight. Well, it happens. Especially since we've already wasted a bunch of time — no time to come up with something new. About twenty minutes left until Kirvan could carry out his threat and kill Adi.

"Let's go," I commanded quietly. Both girls nodded affirmatively. So, they were ready for what was coming. I just hoped my Cloak would hold on Kaili. The girl herself didn't possess such skills, so I had to hide her from detection. Hexid, even though she was an extremely experienced Force adept, could only hide herself, but she couldn't repeat my trick with another living being.

So I'd have to deal with the enemy myself. No point in prematurely revealing my cards to the enemy by showing that I wasn't alone. Let it be a big surprise.

Using the Force, I blew out the hatch, which, like a cannonball, crumpled a couple of B-1s in its path and slammed them into the door control panel. The remaining five droids looked in surprise at the figure in a black cloak bursting out of the service tunnel. An instant — and a lightsaber blazed to life in my hand.

"Uh-uh," the nearest droid drawled, addressing its comrades. "Don't we have repair droids like that?"

It never heard the answer. The energy blade cut it to pieces, after which I sliced apart the first one who managed to raise a weapon at me, and spun on the spot, cutting another in half at the waist. The other two, realizing they were outnumbered, tried to flee through the door, but the golden blade cut them both down in mid-flight.

Alarm buzzers howled. Well, well, they woke up.

Little Brother shrieked into the comlink, reporting that he'd been cut off from the ship's systems.

"It's fine, we're proceeding according to plan." I didn't know if he heard my answer, because only static came from the device's speaker. So, they're jamming communications too.

Making a hand signal to both girls — stay behind me — without much ceremony, I kicked down the door leading to the bridge with the Force and roared:

"Kirvan! Where are you, you venomous scum? I've come."

* * *

A smile, more like a predator's grin, cut across the Baron's lips. The shout with which the Jedi had pulled him out of his meditation was a call to battle. To merciless slaughter. To murder and violence — the most wonderful things a Sith could desire. Especially when your opponent was a Jedi.

Not some run-of-the-mill pale face, of which he had already killed plenty. Not Master Yoda with his saccharine but deceitful speeches, designed to cloud the mind and make you deceive your own nature. A put-on aura of wisdom, behind which only complete ignorance hysterically hid. And fear of the new.

But a true warrior. A killer by nature.

"You came after all," the Baron exulted, seeing that the armored man, as soon as he appeared on the bridge, instantly dispatched the nearest droids the moment they turned their attention to him. A good opening statement.

"Well, you did call me," Dougan shrugged. "Squealing like a teenage girl seeing a new gadget. How could I miss that? You look like shit, Adi."

The Tholothian, her face bearing the marks of recent beatings and torture, couldn't answer him. Suspended vertically not far from where the Baron had been meditating, the Master even looked pitiful. Once beautiful and full of life, she now hung like a meat sack. Who didn't have long — if she didn't die from internal organ ruptures, she'd still face death at the end of the duel. Long and agonizing. Of course, because Kirvan had had more than half a standard day to indulge his burning sense of revenge. And he knew how to cause pain to others. And desired to do so endlessly.

"She suffered all the time while you were getting here," the former Jedi related. "By the way, you got here faster than I expected. Another of your tricks?"

"And you thought I'd charge a tank with my bare ass?" the Jedi chuckled. He didn't take his eyes off the bridge crew — two dozen droids who, by the Baron's order, were not supposed to interfere in the upcoming battle. Not that they'd be any use anyway. "No, Nax, I'm not as stupid as you. Luring me aboard your oversized trough just so I could get my ass kicked... Yeah, it takes long practice to be that big an idiot."

"Dun Moch won't work on me, Jedi," Nax smirked. "Using Sith weapons against a Sith is idiocy."

"Why don't you give me a lecture too, moron."

Behind the Jedi, the door panels slid open. A squad of super droids barely appeared in the doorway when the Jedi blasted them back into the corridor with a powerful Force Push. Then, without even looking behind him, he threw his lightsaber, which destroyed the door-locking mechanism. With a monstrous clang, the panels slammed shut. And after them, a blast-resistant durasteel plate descended, cutting the bridge off from the rest of the ship. "What, afraid to face me one-on-one? Or are you at that age where you can't handle things yourself without help?"

Kirvan laughed, catching the double meaning of the words.

"Every time your name comes up, Dougan, I come to the conclusion that there isn't such a big difference between us," the Baron said. "We are both ruthless killers. I kill hypocritical Jedi, you kill pathetic imitations of Sith..."

"You're comparing apples and oranges," the Jedi scoffed. "Stop the sophistry; that's not why I'm here."

"Oh, right," Nax laughed. "You flew here like a loyal dog of the Senate and the Order, to save one of your own..."

"Says the one who was ordered to lure me here so I wouldn't dismantle your crazy cyborg for parts," the Jedi said sarcastically. Strange, but since his appearance, he hadn't moved an inch from where he'd first stood. Although Jedi usually tried to close with the enemy — all their strength was in close combat, due to the lack of Force techniques capable of striking an enemy at a distance. "You should keep your mouth shut, Dooku's bed warmer."

"How pathetic you are," Nax sighed. No, his aristocratic pride wouldn't allow him to continue the conversation with an outright boor and scum, which the one the entire galaxy praised had actually turned out to be. Unclipping his weapon from his belt, he gave an almost imperceptible nod to the OOM droid acting as the Lord's captain. "It's time to put an end to our prolonged confrontation."

"It could be simpler," the Jedi unexpectedly said. "Give me Adi, and you can go to hell."

"A good offer," Kirvan clicked his tongue, casting a glance at the luxurious captain's chair, turned with its back to the Jedi. The trap in which Adi dangled was positioned so that she could be struck without even getting up from the chair. "But it would give me much more pleasure to finish you off than to make a deal. Although... you can save Adi's life if you join us and become Count Dooku's apprentice..."

"Are you kidding me?" the Jedi laughed. "I hate you imbeciles so much that when I see you, I lose my appetite."

"Too bad for you," the former Jedi declared. That was the code phrase.

The chair turned, bringing a new participant into the action onto the stage.

"I think I'll sharpen my teeth on this Jedi's bones," said a giant, clad head-to-toe in Mandalorian armor. "But first — I'll tear him apart."

"Well, I'll be damned if I ever drink anything but birch sap with pulp again!" surprise rippled through the Force from Dougan. Though he wasn't exactly stunned. "Durge, you immortal-faced bastard, you're after me too? I thought you croaked in the Karthakk system."

"You Jedi can never finish anything," the Gen'Dai said wearily. "Can't even kill your own sworn enemy."

"Your voice sounds tired," Dougan said cheerfully. "Tired of playing second fiddle?"

"After my resurrection, I've grown weary of mindlessly killing stupid Jedi," Durge replied. "It doesn't bring the same pleasure anymore. All is decay... But smashing Mandalorian brat skulls — now that's the real deal. And gutting you."

Nax smiled furtively.

Durge was a legendary mercenary who had lived for several hundred years. Every day of his life he had dedicated to destroying sentient beings. He particularly enjoyed exterminating Jedi and Mandalorians, toward whom he harbored an almost religious hatred. According to Count Dooku — who had assigned the mercenary to him during the hunt for Dougan — the reason lay in the Gen'Dai's past. A past the Baron had no desire to know about. And what the hell difference did it make? The Count had provided every opportunity to get rid of this Jedi once and for all. And if that meant accepting help from someone — so be it. Durge would wear Dougan down — that was his specialty. And the killing blow would still be Nax's.

He had no intention of trusting Durge. After his miraculous rescue and lengthy recovery, the bastard seemed reborn. Less insane. Which was infuriating.

"You know," the Jedi said to the mercenary, "when wine no longer heats you up, food tastes like rot in your mouth, and even all the whores in the galaxy can't quench the fire eating you from inside — there are only two options. Either you stole some cursed Aztec gold, or you caught the covies. In my opinion, both options suck."

"You're talking nonsense, Jedi," Durge rose to his feet. A huge vibroblade glinted in his hand. "I've met your kind before. You bore people to sleep with your tedious speeches. But this is a fight to the death!"

"I prefer to screw like it's a fight for my life," the Jedi replied guilelessly.

"Another windbag," Durge declared. Then, without much fanfare, he drove his cleaver into the torso of the battered Adi Gallia. The girl, unconscious, didn't even stir from the fatal wound. "Hopefully this will make you stop flapping your tongue."

"That was a damn stupid move, you bitch," the Jedi hissed, raising his blade above his right shoulder.

"What can I say, Jedi scum," Durge shrugged, wiping the blood from his blade on the dying woman's robe. "Vibroblade to the liver — even Jedi aren't forever."

Kirvan watched with curiosity as Dougan effortlessly parried the blaster shots the mercenary aimed at him. He caught precisely the moment when the Jedi was about to lunge into an attack and forced him onto the defensive. All for another surprise...

The deck shuddered beneath everyone's feet, marking the dreadnought's transition into hyperspace. Dougan lost concentration for an instant, and a pair of blaster bolts slammed into his breastplate. Which, unfortunately, held.

"No one can help you now, Jedi," Nax grinned, lunging toward his target.

Simultaneously, the door panels behind Dougan exploded inward, and battle droids flooded the bridge.

* * *

A wave of hatred flooded every cell in Kylie's body. She shuddered, feeling through the Force the frenzy Dougan had so easily slipped into. Staying behind him, she seized the moment and dove like a fish toward one of the consoles.

Hexid, without hesitation, dropped her camouflage and engaged the war machines. The Emperor, consumed by battle fury, crossed blades with the enemy commander like a hurricane. The massive mercenary, meanwhile, made no move to approach them, instead hosing his target with blaster fire while laughing uproariously.

"So he's not alone!" the giant's laughter boomed. "Now this is getting fun!"

Fighting wasn't her task. Even after Kosa'an's training, the girl — though possessing a decent level of lightsaber skill — didn't consider herself a professional combatant. Her job was healing.

And that's exactly what she needed to do now.

Keeping out of sight, she made a short stab with her lightsaber, disabling the device holding Adi. The barely-alive Jedi crashed to the floor like a sack. Without ceremony, Kylie grabbed the Tholothian by the ankles and dragged her away from the chaos.

Hiding behind a massive terminal, she propped the dying woman's back against the console's base, opening herself to the Force.

Master Gallia's condition was frankly dire.

The mercenary the Emperor had called Durge clearly knew this species' anatomy. He had managed to damage virtually every vital organ. He had done everything to make Adi die slowly and excruciatingly.

Still, the Master was unconscious — that alone saved her from instant death when the vibroblade struck. And the fact that a spark of life still burned within her argued that all was not lost. But she had to hurry.

Under different circumstances, had the situation not been so critical, Kylie would have preferred to put the girl in stasis — thank the Force, Kosa'an had taught her that technique. But then the Tholothian would have no chance of survival. Hell, even fleeing the battlefield would cost precious seconds.

She pressed her hands to the wound on Adi's side, rapidly kindling the embers of rage within herself. Only Dark Side techniques could save the Master now — Jedi healing was certainly more powerful, but not when time was measured in seconds.

Thankfully, the space around her was saturated with boiling emotions from which she could draw power. Rage and malice, the anticipation of murder... it was terrifying to think this was where she found the energy to force the regenerative abilities of a half-dead body back to life.

Thank the Force that Adi's brain and heart were still alive. Because even Kosa'an couldn't raise the dead.

Kylie froze in position over the wounded woman, acting as a conduit for the Force, draining it from the combatants. Emotions fed her, allowing her to concentrate on damaged organs, restoring their integrity at almost the molecular level.

She couldn't recall the exact name of this technique in the heat of the moment. The healer channeled Force into the body that was pulling further from death with every passing second. The edges of the severed kidney fused; the liver, split in two, knit itself back together. The intestines expelled less and less of their contents into the abdominal cavity with each moment...

There was no need to open her eyes to feel the progress. The Force told her that Adi's broken bones were beginning to mend. Cracks and fractures disappeared before her eyes. The hole in her left lung, which had formed long before the knife strike, closed up, and a few seconds later, the still-unconscious young woman took a full breath — without the wheezing and gurgling that had been there at the start.

Placing her left palm on Master Gallia's head, Kylie felt a subarachnoid hematoma pressing on the brain — another "greeting" from the long torture. Streams of Force rushed into that part of the body as well, reducing the pressure, forcing the body to successfully flush out the accumulated blood and cleanse the soft meninges...

Adi winced almost imperceptibly. Her faltering spark of life was now gathering strength, slowly but surely turning into a small blaze. Kylie felt that with each second of brain damage repair, the Master's confused consciousness was becoming whole again, regaining its familiar form... Just a little more time, and the Master would come around...

At the edge of her awareness, Omas sensed a certain unease in the Force. Immersed in it with her entire being, the girl was under monstrous strain, channeling the raging ocean of passions and emotions. Perhaps it was a warning from the Force. Just a piece of the battle, not worth such close attention...

"K... Kylie?" she heard a faint whisper full of astonishment. The girl opened her eyes slightly and smiled at her now-conscious patient.

"You're awake," the girl said happily. Removing her hands from the Master's body, she felt a slight dizziness. For the first time, she'd had a chance to apply her knowledge in practice. And in such a difficult case... Kosa'an would be pleased... If only that persistent sense of danger, dizzying her, would stop...

A hissing sound — an activated lightsaber — reached her ears. Very close. But, exhausted, she couldn't even move. Just the glint of a crimson blade reflected in Master Gallia's eyes...

A brief flash of pain.

And then darkness.

* * *

Omas's death cut through the battle meld like a knife. Like a wild scream, it burst into my consciousness, setting my teeth on edge with its grinding pain.

And that momentary weakness nearly cost me my life.

The red blade of Kirvan's lightsaber, which had slipped from my field of view for an instant, reappeared, carving a deep furrow across my breastplate (damn ancient piece of junk... and I thought cortosis was indestructible). But my body had already twisted away from the strike's trajectory at the last moment, and my own lightsaber blocked the next lunge while my armored fist, dipping under the former Jedi's guard, shattered his jaw with a characteristic crunch.

Nax staggered back, and at the same instant, a Force Push hurled him sideways — straight into the thick of the fight Hexid was waging. The Zabrak tried to catch the Baron with one of her blades during his dizzying flight, but he sped past so fast she only sliced a piece of cloth from his cloak.

Ducking, I evaded the electric bolo Durge was trying to loop around my neck. The pain of losing an ally gave me strength, so I unleashed all my fury on the armor-clad mercenary, practically cooking him inside his suit — smoke billowed from the joints. Disoriented but not dead, the enemy followed his companion. No point trying to finish him off now — the bastard's tougher than a cockroach. No brain, no vital organs. His entire body is independent nerve clusters that can keep living even when one part is separated from another. Yes, he's dangerous, but right now I was more interested in the bastard with the red blade who'd appeared from nowhere, casually kicking Kylie's decapitated corpse aside with his foot. He wore armor vaguely reminiscent of clone armor — Phase II, to be precise. But the Sith blade in his hands ruined any comparison. Which he was already raising over Adi — I couldn't see her, but I couldn't be wrong about the Force.

Spinning into motion like a whirlwind, I rammed the bastard like a battering ram, planting my heel into his helmet. It didn't do much damage — just disoriented him. And only for an instant.

The next second, I had to parry a brutal vertical strike from the crimson blade. The physical power behind it was astonishing. As was the fact that my opponent suddenly deactivated his blade and vanished into thin air.

"Rick, are you here?!" Adi gasped as I yanked her to her feet.

"You can kiss me later," I shot back. Grabbing Kylie's sword from the floor, I paused for a moment, my gaze lingering on her peaceful but dead face. Her expression was as if she was glad this had happened. Hell!

How could this happen. She was so young...

"Who was that?" Gallia asked, referring to the recent killer.

"No idea," I grunted. The Force — oh, you treacherous bitch — stayed stubbornly silent, no matter how hard I strained to detect the assassin. But nothing. He was excellent at masking himself not just visually but literally wiping his presence from the Force. What kind of elite coprophile had appeared on Palpy and Co.'s side? Why don't I remember anything like this?

Meanwhile, Hexid, surrounded by a Barrier like a heavy tank, was holding off the relentless attacks. Droids, Kirvan, Durge — all of them had made her their sole target. But the girl absorbed every blow with little harm to herself.

Tapping the comlink's keys, I heard the same static. Then, glancing at the chronometer, I noted with grim satisfaction that only a few minutes remained.

"You're full of surprises!" Kirvan called out. Taking advantage of Hexid switching to passive defense, he vaulted over her and landed before me. Our lightsabers clashed, showering sparks across the bridge.

"You have no idea how many," I hissed through clenched teeth, launching into the offensive.

Now I was ruled by white-hot rage. At myself for falling into the trap on Hypori. At Amidala and Tyrell for showing up so inopportunely in the middle of the battle, their presence keeping me from (to preserve the secrecy of my true abilities) smearing Grievous across the bridge. At Sidious for setting this trap so cleverly, bringing in a perfectly trained killer whose appearance had cost a young, beautiful girl her life.

I drove these thoughts through myself again and again, nurturing my own Dark Side. And it answered my call eagerly, making every Juyo movement several times deadlier.

A simple double strike — upward, then downward — carried enough force to make my opponent's wrists and shoulders tremble, nearly costing him both arms. The flare of our blades locked in a clinch was blinding. Kirvan stepped back uncertainly and landed in the center of a telekinetic storm. Without ceremony, I used his momentary weakness to hurl objects at him from all sides, hoping to lower his guard. For a moment, it worked.

Then Kirvan straightened up and waved his left hand, shoving the objects away. He parried a merciless blow that would have split him in two, and another that would have neatly taken his head off. Dropping low, he attacked me with a treacherous thrust to the gut, then snapped his sword up, hoping to catch my mask's lower edge with his blade's tip and pierce my throat. The golden blade blocked the strike, but only partially. For a moment, we separated, circling each other warily.

"You're good," Kirvan said. "But you won't survive this meeting."

"Same to you," I hissed. "Believe me, neither Durge nor your pet assassin will save you..."

"Ahh," Nax drawled, keeping an eye on Adi, who had joined Hexid and was grinding super battle droids into scrap metal. Both women kept an eye on their flanks — who knew where else that bastard might pop out. "Did you like my little surprise? Jack-14 was sent personally by Darth Sidious — for you."

Racking my memory, I found nothing even remotely resembling such a character. Was this something I didn't remember from the universe? Or was this little shit something new?

"You'll need more than that to kill me," I said. The Force told me the moment, and dodging a treacherous strike from the side, I sent the assassin flying with a kick, grazing his spine with my blade as he went. "You of all people should remember that from Kamino. There's nowhere to run here."

"I'm not planning to," Kirvan chuckled. "I'm well aware you can do far more than you show. So my job is just to delay you until the ship reaches the rendezvous point with Count Dooku."

"Oh, I'm scared," I said, suddenly finding it funny. All this just so the Count could join a little private party? So he's not even here? Got cold feet, or is it beneath his dignity?

I repeated the question to the Baron and got a caustic laugh in return. Along with another series of what he thought were devastating strikes, each of which I parried almost yawning.

"The Count entrusted me with killing you," he said. "Darth Sidious approved my plan. The jump to Serenno is just insurance. Your death is the top priority in my master's plans. And even if I lose, you still won't survive. There are hundreds of thousands of battle droids aboard. Ten thousand perfectly trained mercenaries. And they all have one order — destroy you if you emerge victorious from our duel."

"Clever," I admitted — it really was clever. A plan within a plan, with yet another plan inside that. "Did you ever stop to think how many men I brought with me?"

The surprise that flashed across the Baron's face told me I'd hit the mark. My blade easily pierced his guard, punching through the light armor's breastplate near his navel. Knocking his sword aside, I approached the Sith, who was clutching the hole in his belly, and grabbed him by the hair.

"Let me let you in on a secret, you bastard," I whispered into his ear. "Right now, almost every commando in my army is aboard your dreadnought. Alphas, Nulls, Omega, Delta... Not to mention my Hands, who just finished having fun with the Jedi in a very interesting place and gladly rushed over here to infiltrate your toy with the commandos. And while you and I have been playing here, they've already taken control of every key point on your goddamn ship — backup command centers, fire control centers, life support."

I twisted his head to the side, showing him that the corridor was nearly clear of B-2s, and the only ones left in the fight were Durge and the assassin who had come to help him.

"Know why the droid stream dried up, even though you stuffed them into almost every compartment? Because two ferocious Dashades are in there, cutting your tin cans open like sardine tins. And by the time we arrive at the rendezvous with Dooku, the entire dreadnought will be in our hands."

"Im... possible..." the Baron forced out.

"Perfectly possible, moron," I assured him. "All your droids and mercenaries — except the smartest ones — have been floating in vacuum for a while now, courtesy of the Nulls, who already opened every airlock on the ship except the ones in the superstructure. And your whole 'brilliant' plan just went bantha shit. But thanks for steering us straight to Count Dooku. I didn't get to kill Grievous," I grabbed Kirvan by the neck, hoisting him overhead with a jerk, "so I'll settle scores with Tyranus. And with this ship, we'll blow your whole top brass to hell."

"There are... thousands of ships... they'll stop you," Kirvan rasped. The fingers closing around his throat made it hard to breathe. Through the Force, I felt him desperately calling on the Dark Side. Well, try to prolong your miserable existence, asshole!

"I don't give a shit!" I roared. "I'm so sick of all of you! That idiotic Council!" His trachea gave way under my fingers with a disgusting crack. "You Bane-lineage bastards!" Blood sprayed from his torn throat, coating my mask's visor. "Lying democracy!" My fingers touched his spine. "I'll kill every last one of you, you scum."

Pulling his torso down with my left hand, I grabbed his spine with my right, and with all my strength and all the Force, I tore it upward, ripping it from his body to the deafening crunch of breaking ribs and vertebrae.

And almost immediately, as Kirvan's life-light went out in the Force, his body was ripped apart by a flare of the Dark Side, throwing me and everyone else present to the sides. What an asshole! Still causing trouble even after death! The whole visor's covered in blood!

Wiping my mask with bloody fingers, I looked at the trophy clenched in my hand.

"Well, shit...," escaped me as I saw the spine snapped at shoulder level, with my would-be killer's head dangling lifelessly from the top. Damn. Was hoping it would come out like a Predator's. No luck. No dice.

The unprecedented execution had slightly dampened my rage. Apathy washed over me — the constant companion of prolonged communion with the Dark Side. Watching Durge and the killer (missing his right arm) flee the bridge, I grinned. Run, bastards. You're on the same ship as us. You won't get far!

"Sir!" Alpha's voice came through the comlink. "Do you hear us? We've restored communications!"

"Good job," I said matter-of-factly. "Did you destroy the jammer?"

"Not exactly. There was some tricky piece of software that blocked all systems except bridge controls. It activated as soon as the alarm went off."

"Yeah, I remember something like that," I said, approaching Adi and Hexid, who were sitting on the floor amid a sea of wreckage, and helped them both up. I nodded to the Dashades who had appeared in the corridor, pointing toward Durge and the cripple sprinting to the turbolift. "Find and terminate!"

"Maybe eat them?" Khem patted his belly.

"Do whatever — even fuck them in the skull," I shrugged. The two grinning predators took off in pursuit. Turning to face the bridge, I pulled off my mask. Couldn't see anything anyway through the blood-soaked visor.

Surveying the bridge — which had been torn apart during the fight — I snorted, staring into the blackness of the panoramic panels.

"Any casualties?"

"Bald got shot," Alpha reported. "Nothing serious — patched him up already."

"Well, glad we got through that without problems," I said. At least one day went according to plan. Almost, I added mentally, looking at the dead body. Kylie... Force, you soulless bitch!

"Actually, there are problems," Kira's voice came through the comlink. "Have you looked out the viewport lately?"

"I just did," I said, raising my eyes again to the huge transparisteel panels. "Space looks like space..."

"Except we're supposed to be in hyperspace," Celeste said slowly.

"What the...!?"

"Sir, this is probably our fault," Alpha said cautiously. "The jump was interrupted when we rebooted that strange program."

Taking a deep breath, I tried to summon all my composure to avoid storming over to the main computer where Hurricane Team was working and strangling everyone there. Okay, calm down. It's not all bad...

"What is that?" Hexid said in surprise, drawing attention to a massive, clearly artificial space object that had appeared in the dreadnought's field of view as if from nowhere.

Throwing a tired glance at the object, I felt an acute need to sit down.

"God," I exhaled. "You've got to be kidding me!"