Ten years, two months, and thirty days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or the forty-fifth year, two months, and thirty days after the Great Resynchronization.
(Nine months and fifteen days since the arrival).
Grand Moff Ardus Kaine's fleet emerged from hyperspace, mired deep in the Balmorra system.
A Super Star Destroyer escorted by two Imperial I-class Star Destroyers, twenty Vindicator-class heavy cruisers, and sixty Lancer-class pursuit craft.
A Lancer-class pursuit craft.
The latter, because of their low speed—only forty megalights—had once been considered among the slowest ships in a strike group.
If it had consisted of Imperials, whose sublight cruising speed reached sixty megalights.
But it so happened that Star Destroyers were not the backbone of Kaine's formation.
And the Vindicators and the Reaper had speeds comparable to the Lancers', so the age-old problem of speed discrepancies between Imperial ships practically did not exist at the moment.
"Begin the reformation," Ardus ordered, noting how, following his command, the capital ships reduced cruising speed, allowing the Lancers to take up positions in the screen around the destroyers and cruisers.
That was the task of this type of ship: to protect the line vessels from starfighter attack.
It was precisely strikes by fighters in combination with hit-and-run tactics that formed the basis of the Rebel Alliance's tactics and those of its "heirs."
It was precisely to destroy the accursed X-wings and wishbones that the Empire had revived the Lancer project.
When creating the armed forces of the Pentastar Alignment, Kaine paid great attention to restoring those weapons models that could most effectively counter the enemy.
Lancers, which had appeared on the galactic stage in the first months of the Galactic Empire's existence.
From this it followed (and was confirmed by Kuat managers) that the ships had been developed back during the Clone Wars to combat the enemy's numerous droid aviation.
But after the end of the Clone Wars the Empire refused to continue production of the narrowly specialized frigate and focused its attention on more universal starships.
The need for such a ship type arose again soon after the formation of the Rebel Alliance.
The reason was simple.
The Rebels initially did not have a large number of big ships to fight the cruisers and Star Destroyers of the Empire.
That was why they concentrated their armed forces on small and maneuverable ships suitable for use in Rebel hit-and-run tactics.
Armed transports, corvettes, frigates, fighters, and bombers—they became a true cancerous tumor for Imperial bases, garrisons, convoys, and deep patrols.
In its role as an escort ship protecting convoys from Rebel fighters and bombers, the Nebulon-B frigate performed well; several lost battles and lobbying in favor of restoring an anti-starfighter ship to the fleet led to Kuat Drive Yards receiving the task of developing and supplying the Imperial Starfleet with the somewhat forgotten Lancers.
Of course, there were other types of ships, but Kaine became interested in Lancers exclusively because he had close ties with the Kuati.
The appearance of Lancers in the Empire almost ten years ago led to the fact that never again were the Rebels able to repeat the success they achieved as a result of their Fey Hu campaign, which took place roughly a year to a year and a half before the Battle of Yavin.
Then, over nine months of campaign, the Rebels managed to destroy three hundred TIE fighters, with the irrevocable loss of only four of their X-wings.
That embarrassment needed to be corrected.
Thus the modern Lancer-class frigate appeared.
It carried two dozen quad laser cannons, which for many years after the ship's creation were considered the most advanced weapons in their class.
And it must be said, deservedly so.
Each cannon was placed in its own rotating turret, providing it a wide firing arc.
Each crew had its own targeting system and a generator separate from the main power system.
Some frigates, instead of twenty anti-starfighter cannons, were armed with ten four-barrel laser cannons of lower rate of fire and equipped with more primitive targeting systems. True, the latter variant did not catch on in the Imperial fleet.
Of course, there were drawbacks—low survivability, inability to stand up to large ships, low speed, which forced Imperial Star Destroyers to castrate their own performance characteristics to ensure safety.
However, the greatest problem was something else entirely.
One such ship cost nearly five million Imperial credits, which was excessive for a starship a quarter-kilometer long. As was a full crew of eight hundred and fifty personnel, a small landing force—only forty people, the inability to carry combat aircraft aboard or even on external racks, and low endurance—no more than a week.
Therefore, despite the great usefulness in destroying enemy aircraft, a replacement for the Lancer was always found.
That was why the series of ships the Empire received was relatively small compared to usual mass procurements.
Arguments about the expediency of Lancers lasted a very long time, continuing even after the first frigates entered service in the Imperial fleet and demonstrated impressive results.
And that despite the fact that Rebel pilots preferred not to meet a Lancer in open battle.
Serial production of Lancers began even before the Battle of Hoth and continued for no less than two decades.
After the Battle of Endor, these frigates could be found not only in the fleets of the Imperial Remnants.
The New Republic, whose pilots had once feared Lancers like a wild beast fears a forest fire, gladly adopted this ship into service.
But now their fleet does not have a large number of these starships.
Only a few dozen, which by the time of the Dominion's attack on Sullust were not undergoing maintenance and, as a result, did not become trophies of the late Grand Admiral Thrawn.
The fate of these ships is unknown, but Kaine assumed that Pellaeon surely found a use for them.
And under other circumstances Ardus would have readily contacted Thrawn and arranged to buy back a significant portion of the trophies to make up for his own losses.
As expected, the built Dragon-class heavy cruisers were suitable only for the role of stationers.
And even then—with great strain.
Because of holes in the continuous front of Imperial Space and their huge losses, the New Republic, time and again, struck Kaine's stationers, destroying them one after another.
And on the communications lines of Imperial Space, an unrestrained nightmare was unfolding.
Any convoy not protected by at least a couple of destroyers was inevitably attacked by Mon Calamari star cruisers, which did not even attempt to capture starships.
They simply destroyed them—both the transports and their escorts.
In a similar manner—but with the aid of their beloved X-wings and A-wings—the New Republic caused trouble in the rear even for the Grand Moff himself, time after time disrupting prepared offensives.
The Pentastar Alignment's second line of fleet was melting away before one's eyes, and this greatly displeased the Grand Moff.
And it pleased Executor Sedriss even less, as he literally monitored the offensive actions of the Pentastar Alignment and Imperial Space in real time.
And more and more often he pointed out that Emperor Palpatine was ceasing to be satisfied with what was happening.
The goals of the operation, defined for the Pentastar Alignment, had not been achieved even halfway.
Bespin, Balmorra, Sullust, Sluis Van, Eriadu, Thyferra—had still not been subdued, which caused Emperor Palpatine well-founded doubts about the Grand Moff's professional suitability as commander of the armed forces entrusted to him.
Yes, exactly so.
Despite everything, Palpatine continued to believe that the Imperial Remnants were not self-proclaimed territories...
But parts of the Empire, in the hands of those sentients to whom he, Palpatine, had entrusted their administration.
And that was very, very unsettling.
Because one did not need a psychiatrist's diploma to understand: Palpatine's conviction that it was precisely he who allowed Grand Moff Kaine to govern the Pentastar Alignment, just as he did the other warlords—their Remnants—was nothing more than a severe form of illness.
Palpatine preferred to live in some invented reality of his own, which diverged radically from what was and is happening at the present moment in reality.
And that was no longer even cause for concern.
The last such alarm had sounded in Kaine's head when he had first learned Palpatine was alive.
And what he intended to do with Thrawn.
Therefore, watching his own fleet reform into battle order, Ardus gave a bleak, mental smirk.
It seemed Grand Admiral Thrawn had found the best way out of the situation.
He died and escaped all this mess.
"Launch the fighters," Kaine ordered. "As soon as we reach firing range, send them to attack the enemy starships."
While the enemy starships were occupied fighting the Pentastar Alignment's fighters, Kaine's heavy ships would reach the range of confident destruction and topple the Rebels.
Quickly, cleanly, and as bloodily as possible.
***
"Scramble fighters!" Admiral Duplex commanded when it became clear on the tactical display that the enemy forces had closed to a range of one hundred units from his forward starships.
"X-wings have left the hangars," reported the commander of the flagship Star Destroyer.
"Maintain the defensive formation," the Zeltron ordered, looking at the tactical monitor. "The enemy must not even suspect that we were prepared in advance for his arrival."
The presence of Kaine's two Star Destroyers and twenty heavy cruisers did not frighten him.
His six Republic-class Star Destroyers and four MC80b star cruisers would have been quite enough to stop those forces.
But, as expected, Kaine had brought an Executor-class Super Star Destroyer with him.
The Reaper shone with the stern beauty of its hull and the enormous crown of working main engines, because of whose size and intense operation it seemed as if a true conflagration were unfolding behind the Grand Moff's flagship.
But the greatest problem for the fleet was the numerous Lancer-class pursuit craft.
Two glances at the ships' formation were enough for Argentis to understand exactly what Kaine had in mind.
He had brought these ships with an entirely understandable and exceedingly logical goal.
The Grand Moff had drawn conclusions from past battles and now used light forces to screen heavy cruisers, destroyers, and his flagship.
The cruisers were divided into detachments of two pennants each.
At the same time, their detachments were "guarded" by three frigates.
In total, half of the Lancers were occupied ensuring the heavy cruisers' safety from fighter attacks.
Another four ships accompanied each of the destroyers, also lowering the chances of New Republic fighters and bombers destroying ships in the beloved dashing raid of X-wings.
The remaining twenty-four Lancers were distributed along the Reaper's port and starboard sides, blocking approach routes to the flagship's vulnerable directions with their rapid-fire guns.
Active defense, by which Kaine intended to neutralize the New Republic's advantage in fighters.
Attempts to attack the Pentastar Alignment's starships with fighters would end as soon as they entered the zone of confident destruction of the Lancers' laser cannons or the destroyers' and heavy cruisers' broadside artillery.
Quite simple and at the same time inventive—the presence of the Reaper allowed the enemy to attack the New Republic's Star Destroyers and cruisers without fearing fighter attack—thanks to the Lancers.
Thus Kaine intended to deprive the New Republic of its advantage in fighters and realize his own superiority in shipborne turbolaser and ion artillery.
But Grand Admiral Kaine clearly had not accounted for three points.
The first was the New Republic's ten Golan II orbital defense platforms, which by themselves possessed enviable toughness, artillery, and, though small, still an air wing.
The second...
The thing Kaine was about to run into as soon as he reached a distance of fifty to sixty units from the defenders.
And the third...
The reserve forces that would arrive in the system as soon as the trap on the Reaper slammed shut.
The shipboard computer counted down the distance to the enemy.
On the New Republic destroyers and cruisers they had already opened ranging fire, so as not to allow the enemy even the thought that they intended to defeat not the Lancer-class frigates, but were not supporting the Imperials' confidence that they had managed to drive the Republicans into a trap from which they could not escape.
The New Republic starships held strictly assigned positions, using "fairways" to conduct fire.
For now, this allowed the necessary "legend" to be maintained.
The enemy had practically bought it—TIE fighters had already pulled away from the Imperial ships by four units and were about to close to the necessary range.
Sensors reported minor hull damage on two of the lead Lancers guarding the Reaper's bow.
The ships, having moved out of the line of fire, changed positions, taking cover under the deflector shield of the Pentastar Alignment's Super Star Destroyer.
"Sixty-five units!"
The report from the ship commander dissolved into the dead silence reigning on the Republic's bridge.
"Launchers—load," Argentis ordered. "Golan platforms, prepare to strike the Reaper as soon as the first ships detonate."
"Yes, Admiral!"
The time of retribution was inexorably approaching.
All that was needed was to disable the Reaper—at least for the time it took the rest of the fleet to deal with its escort.
Fey'lya had ordered the ship and Grand Moff Kaine captured.
That was clearly no simple task.
Because destroying the enemy would have been far simpler and safer for the entire New Republic fleet at Balmorra.
"Sixty units!"
"Fire all weapons!"
The New Republic ships' disposition was such that it created the impression for the enemy that they intended to set him under crossfire, and therefore the situation should not arouse suspicion.
As did not the fact that only now all ten of Argentis's ships—six Republic-class Star Destroyers and four MC80b star cruisers—had only now shifted to a full-scale artillery duel.
From behind their sterns the Golans joined the firefight, launching hundreds of turbolaser bolts and proton torpedoes.
The enemy, seeing the New Republic ships' renewed activity, responded in kind—and not without success.
Along the same fairways the ships of Admiral Duplex had used, streams now poured back in the opposite direction: no longer golden-scarlet turbolaser energy, but white-green, accompanied by white-blue flares of shipborne ion salvos.
The New Republic ships' deflectors began to crackle under the sheer volume falling upon them.
Several fighters turned into fireballs, becoming accidental victims of the artillery duel.
"Begin withdrawal under the cover of the orbital stations," Argentis ordered quickly.
Now all that remained was to lure the enemy deeper into the system, closer to Balmorra's orbit.
And Kaine, like any Imperial who had endured defeats for a long time, would not resist such an "invitation"...
"Sir," the flagship commander addressed Ardus. "The enemy is beginning maneuvering and withdrawing to second-line positions."
"I see," Kaine said dryly.
He stood on the central dais, hands clasped behind his back, and watched the enemy's actions intently.
"Shall the fleet be ordered to pursue?" the ship commander уточнил.
"Do not hurry," Kaine said slowly.
"But, sir, they're retreating!" the officer pleaded. "We must catch them and finish them!"
Grand Moff Kaine said not a word, only gave the man beside him a contemptuous look.
"Do not rush events," he ordered. "What is happening here is not accidental. The enemy has not launched his fighters, so..."
In the next instant, with a sharp hiss, the silence on the bridge was broken by the sound of an activated lightsaber.
From the corner of his eye, Kaine noticed the movement of a crimson blade near him, and mentally appealed to higher powers (in whose existence he had not particularly believed until the Emperor reappeared).
A figure like a black shadow, motionless beside the bulkhead to the right of the central viewport, with a careless movement of his hand flung aside a beheaded body.
It crashed down into the "pit," and the head rolled after it.
What happened drew a cry of surprise and fear from the watchstanders in the pit, who recoiled from their stations as if scalded not simply by boiling water, but by evaporating liquid saturated with radiation in such volumes that flesh instantly slides off the bones.
"Was it worth it?" Kaine asked the figure whose face he could not even make out due to the shadow of the hood covering his features.
All he could determine about this being was that it was a human, clearly male, and, judging by the color and condition of his skin, he had not yet crossed the threshold of maturity.
"I have watched for a long time how this worm and others like him infect you with doubt, Grand Moff," the voice of the Dark Side adept assigned to Kaine directly before the Reaper left the yards rang with fury, but radiated such ice that gooseflesh on one's skin nearly froze over. "Since when have Imperial commanders stopped demanding flawless execution of orders from their subordinates?"
This sentient had not even bothered to give his name, introducing himself only simply as an Inquisitor.
But Kaine could swear he had not seen this man before among the Inquisitors he had managed to lure to his side.
Obviously, this was someone from among the Emperor's assistants—servants—spies—executioners.
And he was here solely to execute anyone who stood behind failure to carry out the Emperor's orders.
His hint was easy to understand.
First, the ship commander was killed.
Simply for expressing reasonable initiative.
Next, Kaine himself might lose his head.
"This was not disobedience," Ardus objected. "Regulations..."
"The time of regulations has passed," the Inquisitor hissed. "The Emperor is losing patience, Grand Moff! Delay is unacceptable."
From the standpoint of grand political goals, the Inquisitor was absolutely right in his words.
While the Pentastar Alignment was battering its head against the First Fleet's defensive lines, in the rear the enemy was amassing resources and forces and strengthening the defenses of those worlds Kaine was supposed to seize.
First and foremost—Balmorra, Bespin, and Thyferra.
Executor Sedriss did not explain the reason the Emperor needed these worlds conquered.
But one did not need to be a genius of tactics and strategy to understand it.
Balmorra was one of the most important producers of military equipment in the Empire's past.
Thyferra was the only supplier of bacta in the galaxy.
Bespin was the largest of the known suppliers of tibanna.
Sullust, Sluis Van—major shipyards capable of repairing and building line-class ships.
Though the latter was not certain, given that the extent of the damage Thrawn inflicted on those worlds during his last year's military campaign had still not been determined.
And Eriadu... Eriadu was a nodal strategic and trade center needed to control the southern sectors and the southeastern parts of the galaxy.
Without control of Eriadu there would not be the slightest possibility of advancing further competently.
"Regulations never become obsolete," Kaine declared. "The truths set down in them were forged by thousands of losses and oceans of spilled blood..."
"Spare me an unnecessary lecture, Grand Moff," the Inquisitor replied with undisguised contempt. "Do your job, before I have to take everything into my own hands."
"And you won't," Kaine thought with cold clarity. "If you could, you'd have gotten rid of us long ago and done what you demand of me. But you won't remove me until we either win or lose. So that in the first case you can take all the laurels, and in the second—justify the military failure with our executions."
"Do not interfere with my command," Kaine stated. "And then we will, without doubt, achieve success."
"Then what are you waiting for?" The Inquisitor's smile literally oozed self-satisfaction and revulsion toward its owner.
"First officer," Kaine addressed the next officer by seniority. "Assume command of the Reaper."
"Y-yes, sir," came the trembling voice of the new commander of the flagship Star Destroyer. "W-what are your orders?"
Kaine stared at the Inquisitor, trying to find his eyes in the darkness of the hood that concealed most of the latter's face.
Failing to do so, the Grand Moff shifted his gaze to the central viewport.
Only to become witness to the destruction of several dozen TIE fighters.
At which no one had even fired.
"All ships, reduce speed and recall the fighters," Kaine ordered, sharply raising his voice. "Increase scanner sensitivity. Watch for distortions..."
To port of the Reaper, one of the Lancers exploded.
A bright flash of light literally snapped the small ship in half, and the fragments formed by that action detonated in view of internal explosions.
"What is happening, Grand Moff?!" the Inquisitor hissed.
A moment later a chain of explosions raced across the Reaper's bow, making emergency sirens howl.
Another frigate flared like a new star, breaking apart before the eyes of witnesses.
The Star Destroyer holding position off the formation flagship's starboard side, while turning, burst into flame from the main hangar and two main engines.
But its misfortunes did not end there.
Losing the ability to maneuver, the ship began moving on inertia, struck one of its escort ships, and literally rammed it with its side.
Another loss in the formation was marked by an explosion in the superstructure of the second Star Destroyer.
A second later, a powerful blast tore off the bow section of one of the cruisers, while another at that time was completely deprived of its superstructure.
But worst of all—ruptures appeared again and again.
"A large number of self-propelled objects detected!"
"Multiple low-power magnetic fields registered!"
Reports, like the ruptures in the Reaper's armor, followed one after another, growing with each second.
"Grand Moff!" the Inquisitor barked. "What is happening?!"
It seemed he had already asked that.
"What the enemy has prepared for us," Kaine answered sharply. "We've been dragged onto a minefield!"
***
The surviving enemy TIE fighters were pulling in toward a Star Destroyer.
Toward the one that had detonated second, and now its superstructure resembled a burning multi-story building hit by massed heavy artillery fire.
The first Star Destroyer, which had taken a charge of magnetic space mines straight into the main hangar, had withdrawn from the battle zone to a considerable distance, from where it occasionally exchanged disproportionate salvos with the nearest New Republic Star Destroyer.
It seemed as if the ship's crew were too lazy to fire from all barrels, while the Republicans energetically hammered it with salvo after salvo.
But the first part of that impression was false.
The ship had been heavily damaged by magnetic mine strikes, and scanners showed that two-thirds of its artillery was either destroyed or powerless because of the detonations.
It also slowly, without correction, rotated along its long axis, and from a dozen breaches in the armor, like blood, flame spurted into space.
No escape pods were visible; without doubt, the damaged ship's commander believed he could cope with the consequences of the blasts.
The second destroyer was also in poor shape—its superstructure was torn open, the ship was practically uncontrollable, and it had already caused the death of an escort ship.
The loss of two large ships, several cruisers, and escort frigates, coupled with numerous mine detonations on the Reaper's hull, was cause for a small celebration...
If not for Kaine's still greater number of heavy cruisers and corvettes, which were conducting barrage fire, striving to destroy as many mines as possible rushing toward the ships.
The return of the TIE fighters and their "peeling off" from the Star Destroyers could mean only one thing—Grand Admiral Kaine had decided to use his fighters to shoot down the self-propelled mines.
Hard to detect until activation, they were not a big problem alone, but that was the point: they sought to inflict as much damage as possible by attacking en masse.
Old, but, as it turned out, effective even in modern times, developments of the Balmorrans were smashing the enemy fleet selflessly and very efficiently.
The Balmorrans claimed they would not even have paid attention to old designs hundreds, even thousands of years old, if not for Grand Admiral Thrawn's attack, when he had decided to lay his grasping hand on the databanks of Balmorran weaponsmiths.
Now they had their own score to settle with the Imperials and with anyone who wished to attack the planet for their base purposes.
"The enemy has begun maneuvering," the commander of the First Fleet flagship destroyer reported belatedly.
"Yes," Argentis agreed. "Because of the Lancers and the flagship Reaper, they moved at lower speed than expected, did not send a forward group..."
"The mine barrier was only triggered halfway," the officer reminded.
"I see," Admiral Duplex said dryly. "Not good. But it won't get better. Fleet—advance to the boundary of the minefield and bombard the enemy until complete suppression. Inform Second Division to enter the fight—if Kaine pulls out of here now, we'll miss an excellent chance to crush the Pentastar Alignment's strike fist once and for all."
***
The Reaper, which now held at a considerable distance behind the other ships of the formation and played at being a shield for frigates and heavy cruisers, conducted massed barrage fire against the New Republic's ten line ships.
The latter changed position in space again and advanced forward—twenty units closer than they had been at the moment the Pentastar Alignment ships arrived in the Balmorra system.
The mighty giant had already lost part of its armor and artillery on the port side, but was still able to show the enemy how strong and merciless it was.
The remains of the burning second Star Destroyer and the battered, but still spirited first of its brethren hung several dozen units behind, mute witnesses to the source of the damage.
The crews of both destroyers honestly tried to save their starships, but sometimes circumstances prove stronger than human intentions, capabilities, and resources.
It was precisely them that the New Republic Star Destroyers and cruisers were pounding first and foremost.
And the Reaper itself was under residual attack by magnetic mines that simply refused to leave the Super Star Destroyer alone.
The heavy cruisers exchanged fire with the New Republic starships, and the frigates, a fine specimen of a hunter of small craft, were forced to shoot down barely visible self-propelled mines to minimize the hypothetical damage these products of Balmorran gloomy genius could inflict on the invasion fleet.
An outside observer—and the participants themselves—could have made an entirely correct conclusion about what was happening.
"You've lost several ships and are preparing to retreat?!" the Inquisitor asked with disgust.
"Do you have a plan for crossing the mine barrier?" Ardus Kaine asked. "No?"
"My task is to watch the Emperor's will be carried out, not to put it into practice," an excuse bordering on an admission of helplessness in the matter of tactical assessment.
And delivered, like any other phrase connected with mention of the Emperor, in a lower voice, on the edge of a threatening whisper.
As always—Palpatine's servants were doing their utmost to keep secret the fact of his rebirth.
"Then I advise you to use your brain as well," Kaine did not mince words. "We've lost two Star Destroyers, four heavy cruisers, and ten frigates—and only just reached the range of confident destruction. Not to mention the Reaper has taken serious damage!"
"Those are your miscalculations, Grand Moff!" the Inquisitor roared. "Correct them! Immediately!"
"That is exactly what I intend to do," Kaine said indifferently. "I'm withdrawing the ships from the system."
"You dare not! Balmorra must be taken! Here and now!" the Inquisitor practically shouted into his face.
"Here and now, at most, I can end up with a Super Star Destroyer damaged beyond combat usefulness," Kaine objected. "And I'll lose most of the fleet! First—on the minefield, and then the First Fleet's starships will finish us. There's only one way out of this trap—pull back and regroup. Conduct thorough reconnaissance and return here better prepared than this time."
"Do not test my patience, Grand Moff," the Inquisitor grabbed at his lightsaber hilt, which scared the new ship commander to the devil, as he still kept glancing toward the pit where his predecessor had found his final resting place.
"Nor you mine," Kaine said harshly.
Security troopers present on the bridge, though without any desire, still reacted, training their weapons on the Inquisitor who had drunk the blood of everyone present.
The latter looked over the blasters aimed at him, after which he turned and showed Kaine a brazen smirk.
"I'll cut them down without even breaking a sweat."
"Maybe," Ardus agreed reluctantly. "Or maybe not. In any case—it's wiser to retreat, regroup..."
"New contacts on scanners!" someone shouted from the pit.
"Identify!" the Grand Moff ordered at once, understanding perfectly whose ships—rather, their affiliation—would be reported.
Anyone's, except those belonging to the Pentastar Alignment's allies.
"Sixteen MC80a Liberty-type star cruisers, sir," reported the newly minted commander of the Super Star Destroyer. "They've blocked our withdrawal route to the acceleration zone."
And consequently, however bluntly, the enemy had managed to cut them off from the possible and most obvious route out of the Balmorra system to the operational base in the neighboring sector.
"Well," Ardus said slowly, studying the newly arrived ships reforming beyond weapon range, "it seems, Inquisitor, your wish has come true."
"Which of the ones I listed?" the Palpatine envoy's nervousness was so clearly audible that it almost brought a smile to Grand Moff Kaine's face.
"You wanted to fight to the end," the ruler of the Pentastar Alignment reminded him. "Here it is, a fine chance to die with pride."
"There will be no death!" the Inquisitor declared in a not entirely confident voice, casting a glance at the golden-scarlet hurricane the newly arrived New Republic starships unleashed on the Pentastar Alignment's formation. "We have an excellent chance to prove ourselves and destroy them all!"
Kaine smiled bitterly, assessing the hologram of the Super Star Destroyer rapidly shading in red hues marking damage on his flagship.
"I'd call it an excellent chance to take a few enemy star cruisers into the grave with us," the Grand Moff corrected.
He looked with a smirk at the Inquisitor swiftly darting toward the exit from the bridge.
"Well then," he announced to those remaining on the bridge. "Now we can fight the New Republic..."
Though the outcome of this battle could differ little from what he had voiced to Palpatine's envoy.
But at least now they could send their TIE fighters toward the newly arrived New Republic ships without fearing they would start blowing up on mines.
The scanner showed the approach of four squadrons.
Asyr Sei'lar, in thought and mild surprise, tried to scratch her eyebrow—and, to her great surprise, she succeeded.
The woman looked at her fingers in surprise, not understanding why she had not hit the faceplate of a flight helmet.
And only now did she realize how, probably, stupid and funny she must look from the outside.
A "hasty admiral," not understanding why she was not packed into a flight suit with the enemy approaching.
At times she forgot herself, losing touch with reality...
And mentally returned to the times when everything had been rather simple—one only had to put on an orange suit and fly out through the hangar doors in an X-wing...
But now it would not work.
And not even because by the will of command (the initiative of President Fey'lya, who had decided to bolster his political rating by honoring the surviving members of Rogue Squadron and promoting them) she had turned from a simple pilot, albeit of an elite squadron, into an admiral commanding an entire fleet of star cruisers operated by her brave and glory-hungry compatriots.
But for the simple reason that on Bothawui, her beloved homeland, she was considered a hero.
Not even that—a HERO, worthy to stand in one line with those famed Bothans who had helped obtain the plans for the second Death Star.
Of course, at home they did not like to remember that all of it had turned out to be merely the Emperor's machinations and, in fact, the Bothan heroes had helped lure the Rebel Alliance's forces into a trap at the forested moon in the system of the gas giant called Endor.
Now she would have to lead tens of thousands of her compatriots into battle against the Reaper and its escort.
The sensors, which reported the sudden disappearance of deflector shields on two Pentastar Alignment heavy cruisers after concentrated fire, showed no emotion.
The Reaper itself, turning along a wide arc, altered course, swinging its stern away from the ambush Admiral Duplex had organized for it.
"Movement of a modified TIE interceptor detected," her ship commander reported. "It is moving on a course that takes it away from the Super Star Destroyer and the entire fleet."
Asyr looked at the tactical hologram, where the indicated ship's trajectory was marked.
"Track it," she ordered.
From the starship's behavior it was clear it intended to slip out of the mess, laying a steep arc to end up beyond the battlefield.
The order for the fleet was extremely simple—capture the Reaper and Grand Moff Kaine.
The first was not going anywhere, and the second...
The second was clearly not aboard that interceptor—Kaine was not one of those cowards who run at the first opportunity.
Meanwhile the Reaper, opening fire from its forward guns on the approaching craft, began a slow turn to starboard; its companion cruisers fell behind, sheltering under the neighbor's deflector field.
The indicators of the Rogues, now led by Wes Janson—the second survivor at Distna among the original squadron roster—accounted for the changes, guiding his pilots over the formation flagship's bow at a significant altitude above the collision plane.
But soon the good life ended, and the pilots found themselves in the very center of the apocalypse.
Ion cannons, salvo after salvo, poured out waves of bluish energy, and laser cannons turned the tides of that ghostly sea into fireworks.
One of the ion bursts only by miracle did not clip Janson himself and his wingman.
But that did not mean the ion cannon shot passed without consequences for the Rogues.
The scanner screen lost the signal of Rogues Five.
And then the Reaper stabilized its position, turning one broadside toward Admiral Duplex's ten ships, and the other—less damaged by mines and the previous bombardment—toward Sei'lar's cruisers.
"Fire on the flagship..." Asyr ordered hurriedly. "All fighters—attack the Reaper. Cruisers—fire on the escort."
Explosions blossomed on the hull of the nearest Lancer, and within a couple of minutes the ship vanished in a blinding flash.
The breach in the Super Star Destroyer's protection allowed the Rogues to surge forward, avoiding a meeting with the frigates' rapid-fire guns right at the ship's bow.
Which did not change the fact that there were still far too many Lancers for a comfortable fight on the New Republic's terms.
Far ahead, a tiny spark flashed, then between it and the bridge of one of the heavy cruisers thin crimson threads stretched... and the viewports of the Vindicator's superstructure were blown out, debris and air sucked into space.
Three Mon Calamari star cruisers, seeing the enemy's confusion, concentrated their fire on the heavy cruiser that had lost control due to heavy damage.
The squadrons passed over the twisted superstructure, sweeping away TIE fighters that rushed to intercept them.
Having torn the cruiser's cover away from it, the New Republic pilots continued their swift raid and worked the Super Star Destroyer's starboard side with torpedoes.
Then they broke off, turned around, and added the engines of the uncontrollable heavy cruiser to the list of victims, scattering away in a merry flock farther from the Lancers' fire.
Having withdrawn into the safety zone, the Rogues repeated their raid on the Reaper, slamming still more proton torpedoes into it.
And lost four pilots in the process.
Asyr shook her head.
It seemed there would no longer be the magnificent pilots in this unit that had served under the late Wedge Antilles.
And legendary returns from hard missions without personnel losses, it seemed, would be no more either.
And the heavy cruiser's situation was getting worse and worse with each minute.
Its deflectors were stripped away by the fire of Mon Calamari star cruisers' turbolaser artillery.
The hull gradually began turning into scrap metal, surrounded by torn-out chunks of structure and plating.
Judging by the tactical hologram, Admiral Duplex's ships pressing from behind were tightly working the Reaper's stern, exchanging fire with the dozen heavy cruisers that had risen to defend the Pentastar Alignment's Super Star Destroyer from that direction.
Kaine had really gotten going.
Around his flagship, like angry insect-ants whose nest had been carelessly stirred with a stick, numerous squadrons of TIE fighters swarmed.
And all of them were set in a remarkably determined and hostile fashion toward the New Republic fighters.
"Send in A-wing reinforcements!" Asyr commanded.
Three RZ-1 squadrons, which had until then been circling near her star cruisers, sprang into motion and developed a speed X-wings could not afford.
The wedges of nimble A-wings smashed into the enemy formation through gaps the New Republic star cruisers had torn in the Reaper's defense; the pilots did not have to aim carefully...
The resemblance to a swarm of enraged insects intensified: now TIE fighters, two and four at a time, began chasing the agile, high-speed New Republic fighters.
Next, to the accompaniment of a jaunty whistle (authored by Wes Janson) over the comm, Rogue Squadron arrived in the battle zone, having already cracked one enemy heavy cruiser like a nut from the rear hemisphere of the Reaper.
The Rogues efficiently broke into pairs, and each pair acted smoothly, as if a single whole.
They did not have the combat experience the previous roster of this unit could boast, but the Bothan woman knew for certain that Janson had spent no little time welding together a unit staffed partly with veterans who had previously served under Antilles's command and partly with pilots selected from other squadrons.
In this case one could only sympathize with the doomed TIE jockeys whose course had crossed the path of these pilots.
Even if as a unit they were not yet fully seasoned, Kaine, too, did not have every pilot an ace across the board, as had once been suspected during the war against Grand Admiral Thrawn.
Asyr worried with all her heart for each pilot's fate, greedily staring at the fighter battle, but with an effort of will she returned herself to reality.
She needed to command the battle of the capital ships.
Unfortunately, the fact that she had survived at Distna and endured captivity in which there had not been a drop of humanism, had its own drawbacks besides the obvious widely publicized popularity.
She would never again sit at the controls of an X-wing.
Sei'lar comforted herself with the thought that it had to be so to accomplish the tasks set before her.
Something must be sacrificed to reach the вершина власти.
And it did not matter whether it was a political arena or military command.
Even if she did not share the mentality and pragmatic approach of her compatriots, she would have to become something more than a simple pilot to change Bothan society.
To make it better.
To apply every effort so that Bothans would cease to be hated across the galaxy by other sentients.
She had gone through captivity that changed her and gave her a new purpose in life, one she had never even thought of as something real and feasible.
To destroy the entrenched reputation, convincing everyone that...
Asyr cut off her thoughts, noticing that the fingers on her right hand were beginning to tremble.
Catching them with her left hand, she stood like that for several seconds, calming the nerves that had flared up.
The shakes came upon her when she remembered captivity in the Dominion too often.
Despite the fact that she remembered everything perfectly, every detail that had accompanied her there, she still could not understand the cause of her trembling.
After all, there had been no torture or abuse.
She had been interrogated and sent to a holding place where each day resembled the next.
And then she had simply been taken out of there together with other Bothan prisoners and exchanged, with Fey'lya as intermediary.
So where did the nervous tremor come from?
Having calmed her body, Asyr shifted her attention to the unfolding battle.
Admiral Duplex's ships pressed the Reaper's formation from behind, hers—from the front.
The trap had snapped shut, and soon the battle would end.
Without doubt—with the long-awaited victory of the New Republic.
***
"Captain Makeno," Grand Admiral Thrawn greeted him, to the surprise of the naval special forces detachment commander, having met the unit at the ramp of their shuttle.
"Detachment! Attention!" the captain barked, and his four troopers snapped to attention.
Thrawn ordered at ease, and the troopers relaxed.
But from the outside it looked as if they had simply begun to breathe, while remaining as tense as strings on a musical instrument.
"Your detachment has performed well in the current campaign," Orsan walked slowly with Thrawn along the landing field, lost in guesses as to what the Grand Admiral himself needed at the special forces base.
And he had clearly arrived here in secret, because the Chimaera was not visible in orbit.
But several guardsmen standing near the shuttle and indifferently watching the nervous special forces troopers forced Makeno to think about the reason for the Supreme Commander's appearance at the base.
Clearly not simply to praise them for work against the ground units of Moff Harsh in the Bosh sector.
And not for the boarding actions against Corporate Sector starships in the same region of the galaxy.
From experience, Makeno knew that the guardsmen, Thrawn's appearance, and this aura of secrecy were connected with each other in some way.
"Thank you, sir. Dominion above all!"
"Undoubtedly," Thrawn agreed. "After your work, your detachment is due rest, Captain."
"We are ready to carry out any assignment, sir."
"I have no doubt, Captain, that you are," Thrawn agreed. "However, your next assignment will require maximum output from you and your subordinates."
"We always work at that tempo, sir."
"Of course," the Grand Admiral nodded. "But this time it is different. You are facing a nonstandard operation in a conditionally neutral world."
"Swapping in for storm commandos again, or what?" a displeased thought flashed through Orsan's mind.
Ground operations on planets and moons—those were tasks for the guys in black armor.
Naval special forces meant ships, stations, asteroid bases...
And if the operation was nonstandard for him and his men, then it definitely meant something connected with ground actions.
Not particularly pleasant, of course, but what can be done?
Not the first time.
"I understand this is not quite your profile, however recently the storm commandos have suffered heavy losses," Thrawn explained. "Time will be required to restore their numbers."
"As if naval special forces are doing great," Orsan thought tiredly.
At the moment there were only several dozen special forces squads of five people each.
Many of the troopers were currently undergoing recovery or rehabilitation—operations do not pass without a trace.
Not to mention the large number killed and maimed during combat missions.
After all, special forces are no longer recruited from the best wolfhounds as in the past, but from less qualified personnel.
The personnel hunger was the scourge of the Dominion Armed Forces.
They fought it, sometimes even successfully, but it had to be understood that the quality of new troopers was always lower than that of veterans who had been through more than one campaign.
"Yes, sir."
"Therefore, you and your men will face a mission beyond the Dominion," Thrawn continued.
"Consider it already done, sir," Orsan assured him.
"I have no doubt, Captain, in your unit," Thrawn continued, stopping at the edge of the landing pad, in the shadow of a thick stone barrier five meters high separating one landing pad from another. "Now directly about the assignment. Your participation and that of your troopers will allow us to increase the number of naval special forces units in the necessary volumes within a few weeks."
"Are we being assigned as instructors for recruits?" Captain Makeno frowned.
Not that he was bothered to share his experience, but to train those brainless kids who know nothing and have nothing...
"And yes, and no, Captain," Thrawn said mysteriously. "You and your subordinates have been chosen as the sole donors for the GeNod-Dominion cloning program, under the Naval Special Forces track."
"Bantha fodder," Orsan whistled mentally. "Now that's what you call a reward for our deeds."
"My detachment is ready to deploy at any time, sir!"