Extra for power stones.
***
Who had brought the plastic tray of caf in flimsi cups and a pile of appetizing buns from the galley to the Gozanti's mess hall remained a mystery to Boss.
Delta Squad, having removed their helmets, started snacking.
There were only five of them on the ship, so the possibilities weren't exactly endless.
The captured clone was out of the question immediately, since he was lying unconscious in the med bay.
Scorch and TNH-0333 sat in the far part of the compartment, discussing in detail and with professional know-how the improvised modification of the Flamer that the sergeant wielded.
The standard weapon of Imperial assault commandos and flamethrower operators had been altered so much that the original design was barely recognizable.
If Boss were the weapons manufacturer, he'd take that toy from TNH-0333, strip it down to the last screw, refine its ergonomics, and put it into mass production.
Just the "fire spit" function alone was worth putting that thing into production.
The standard flame stream could reach a distance of ten to fifteen meters and burn everything in its path.
TNH-0333's modification, however, sent the "spit" precisely at the target without scorching the ground between the shooter and the mark.
A pinpoint, though not always accurate, shot.
But damn, how those enemy soldiers burned...
A sight to behold.
No wonder Scorch liked it.
"I bet the mercenaries are still fighting," Fixer chuckled, settling into a chair next to the Delta Squad commander.
Or, as they were listed in the Dominion Armed Forces—Fourth Special Assault Commando Squad "Delta."
The cunning Grand Admiral, by adding a fourth member to their squad, had merged the names so as not to offend anyone.
As the supervising officer had said, it was ordered to revive the army's practice of assigning units their own designations alongside the official ones listed in accounting documents.
It turned out amusing.
The Fourth Special Squad didn't have to be disbanded, and the Deltas kept their name.
"That's their job," Boss replied dryly, picking up a cup from the tray and taking a sip of hot caf. "We have ours; they have theirs."
"No argument there," Fixer agreed. "What do you think about the fact that squads with letters from the old Tion alphabet will soon reappear, just like in the GAR?"
Which meant the reports would feature various "Alphas," "Betas," "Sigmas," "Gammas," "Thetas," and so on.
Not to mention that Thrawn had obviously decided to use the prestigious names from the Clone Wars era.
Boy, would Niner and Kova be surprised when they heard that somewhere in the galaxy, commando squads "Omega" and "Yayax" were enthusiastically kicking Dominion enemies' asses.
I wonder how long they'll stew over their names being reused, or will they just accept it?
Or maybe they'll pull some dirty tricks?
"That was command's decision," Boss said dryly. "Did you check everything before we jumped to hyperspace?"
"As always. I don't know why Thrawn needs that old bucket—the Falcon, I mean—but a fact is a fact. Still, the necessary 'improvements' have been made to perfection."
"We have an order—we carry it out," Boss cut him off, looking at the contents of his cup. "Though, you could report the success to command instead of me."
"No, thanks," Fixer shook his head. "My hair starts turning gray when the Grand Admiral gives me that intense stare. Even if he doesn't look like Vau and talks like a Jedi, the fact itself... We're lucky to serve under determined officers, it seems."
"Yeah," Boss chuckled, searching his memory. "Remember that crazy Jedi woman?"
"Which one?" Fixer clarified.
"Sephi, the one who played with fire. What was her name..." Boss pretended to be trying to remember.
"Don't traumatize my clone heart," Fixer begged. "Don't tell me you forgot."
"Of course not. I was just trying to remember what happened to her. Master Meilis was on the active search-and-destroy target list right up until our desertion, I think."
"Yeah, but as far as I recall, of the ten squads sent after her, not a single one came back."
"She was a tough lady," Boss agreed. "Who do you think would have won an ass-kicking contest—her or Marek's clone?"
"I think I wouldn't want to be within a couple of kilometers if they ever met," Fixer said honestly. "But why'd you bring her up?"
"I was talking to Lady Spitfire before departure," Boss admitted. "She mentioned in passing that the Dominion is recruiting former Jedi. Arligan Zey supposedly agreed to join. And you've seen what assets they have yourself. Scorch says when they found Maul and Obscuro, the whole corridor was littered with pieces of Dathomirian witches. They lost one of their own but carved up fifty crazy women. I don't know how many guys they'd have lost if the Shadow Guard hadn't stopped them."
"As I understand it, they were formed specifically to take out elite enemy soldiers who can use the Force. Like we're an army special squad, they're the Jensaarai Order's special forces."
"More like Thrawn's personal liquidators," Boss grimaced. "I checked out the bridge after that Jensaarai and his students finished working there."
"And?"
"I was at a slaughterhouse once."
"And?"
"It was less bloody than the bridge and its surroundings."
"So what's your point?"
"Either the Jedi we worked with and know aren't the most capable, or the Jensaarai are stronger."
"Do we even care? We're on the same side; that's what matters."
"Can't argue with that," Boss agreed, finishing the contents of his cup. "Will we reach the relay on time?"
"In five minutes."
"Is the special comm program for the Guardian ready?"
"Of course. Or is it just me, or are you planning something?"
"Besides reporting to Thrawn?" Boss clarified.
"I've known you since birth. You're not this talkative for no reason," Fixer explained. "You're planning something. And you remembering Master Meilis, too..."
"I want to ask Thrawn to organize a campaign to find her," Boss admitted. "She's a pragmatic Jedi. She could fit in with the Dominion."
"As far as I remember, our task after delivering the package will be searching for the commando clones and ARCs we're still in contact with," Fixer said.
"We can combine them," Boss suggested.
"Are you sure searching for a Jedi using the Grand Army of the Republic's clones is a sound idea?" Fixer clarified. "Our face, to the Jedi, is associated with anything but a friendly chat over a cup of caf."
"I know..."
"In case you've forgotten, our face is the last thing most Jedi saw before they died."
"I remember. I just want to suggest it—she's a good fighter. And if you recall, she threw fire with her bare hands..."
"Ah," Fixer laughed quietly. "You just don't want to admit you want more flamethrowers on the team."
"No," Boss grimaced in annoyance. "We just need backup in case everything goes wrong!"
He rarely showed emotion, so it was clear he was genuinely out of sorts.
Though, given what they were about to do, it was no wonder his nerves were on edge.
"We've got plenty of those lizards on board," Fixer reminded him. "And the ship itself is pretty good, actually. Every corner is monitored by cameras, everything is perfectly controlled through the VID..."
The Delta commander sighed and set the cup on the table.
"Time to start," he said, rising and scanning his squad's soldiers with a glance. "Everyone ready?"
"As always," Scorch replied. "Sergeant. One question. Not asking for myself—a friend was wondering..."
Fixer silently showed him a fist.
"If everything goes to hell, like it usually does, can we fry the Jedi-boy to a golden-brown crisp?" the demolitionist of the squad inquired innocently.
"The order says otherwise," TNH immediately noted.
"You know, there used to be fewer moralists and rule-followers in this squad," Scorch sighed.
"Six-two!" Fixer reminded him.
"I was just asking."
"We work as soon as the connection is established," Boss cut off the rambling. "Check everything again—including the medical droid. The entire plan depends on how beautiful a picture we show. Does everyone remember that? No need to repeat?"
Silent nods—the most eloquent answer.
"Good," Boss summed up. "But... just in case it gets too hot—put him down for good. Better him than any of you."
"The order was different," TNH-0333 stubbornly stated. "Our task is to carry it out at all costs."
"'Too hot' is a term that refers to the category of situations where carrying out the plan becomes impossible," the demolitionist explained to the squad's second sergeant.
"For example, when circumstances indicate that the target's survival threatens the assigned mission," Boss added. "We're Deltas. We either do it right, or we make sure it doesn't go badly."
It sounded good.
Not exactly how the Deltas used to operate, but it sounded almost like a unit motto.
"Let's begin," Boss ordered, checking the charge in his weapon.
As always—everything was ready.
* * *
I desperately wanted to ask, "Where's the hidden camera?"
But from the ladies' faces, I could tell this was no joke.
"I double-checked the data in the med bay," Iceheart declared. "The pregnancy is confirmed, fetal development is normal, no abnormalities detected."
"You dug through my medical records?" Jade's voice was as warm as a blizzard on Hoth.
"I was purging critically important information," Isard clarified. "You did a decent job cleaning up the examination data and the medical droids' memory on the Crimson Dawn. But those specific droid models have an unadvertised manufacturer feature: data backup in case the platform fails. I confiscated the backup storage, verified that no one had accessed them and that there were no signs of intrusion or data tampering. Then I copied all the information except for your examination records onto clean media, returned them to their place, and covered my tracks. The secret of your pregnancy is preserved. The circle of potential confidants is also established: Ahsoka Tano knows for certain, Asajj Ventress suspects, your bodyguard Rukh," she looked at me, "and also Guard Commander Grodin Tierce, who heard what was discussed here and almost certainly suspects Jade's pregnancy. I recommend making them responsible for ensuring her personal security. The rest are not informed. The information is here."
Iceheart placed several data plates on the table—cheaper and less capacious than data chip media.
"Thank you," I said, putting them in the pocket of my tunic.
I'd need to review this soon.
"Thank you," Mara said in a choked voice, looking at Isard. "But I don't need protection."
Iceheart merely gave a polite nod in return, as if to say she hadn't done anything out of the ordinary.
Just work.
In reality, it wasn't like that.
The news that I had a child was that "weak" link that enemies could easily use against me.
The Alliance, the New Republic, the Imperial Remnants, Palpatine, any of his subordinates, the still-not-openly-revealing-themselves Yuuzhan Vong scouts...
Anyone.
A child is a means of manipulating its parent.
The Skywalker clan practically ate a rancor on that kind of thing, given the abductions and exploitation of their children in the events I knew about.
They were kidnapped from almost the moment of birth right up to adulthood to be used for others' purposes.
And, I must note, it always ended very, very badly for the kidnappers.
As far as I remember, none of them survived.
But those were the Skywalkers.
The Force itself "plays favorites" with them.
In my situation...
"Lady Jade," I looked at Mara. "Given the circumstances, you are relieved from active missions. From this moment until further notice."
"But...!" the Hand began, but meeting my gaze, realized arguing was unwise. "Yes, Grand Admiral."
Hmm... And I was expecting a hysterical outburst.
Interesting.
Looks like the hormones hadn't fully overpowered the conditioned reflexes ingrained during my time in this galaxy and her service under my command.
I suspect she herself understood: this was where it all would end.
Yes, I could tear into her properly for not telling me earlier, for not considering the threat to the child given the confrontation with Kun…
A lot could be said now in "concerned father" mode.
And I probably wouldn't have held back if the news about the child had been confirmed by Isard.
The shock would have been quite… fresh back then.
Life hits you hard, and always in the head.
To be honest, I thought both women were more inclined toward service than maternity leave.
Isard distinguished herself in that regard.
I know for certain she isn't infertile — the medical examination data from her recovery after Ciutric confirms it.
So she took precautions.
But Mara…
Interesting.
Because her personal file stated that Palpatine had also done his part there — not surgically, but pharmaceutically.
And that explained why, in the events I knew of, Ben Skywalker was born only seven years after Mara and Luke got together, following an interesting voyage to Nirauan.
I'll need to look into this.
Because I suspect that Chiss fertility regarding humans is quite… superior compared to what hormonal drugs can achieve.
Or Lady Jade is holding something back.
Either way, this matter needs to be discussed somewhere else, at another time, and in private.
"Lady Jade," I said, looking at the Hand. "Proceed to your quarters until further notice."
Her face showed she wanted to object, but the red-haired hellcat overcame the temptation to cause bigger problems and obediently left the conference compartment.
Leaving me and Isard alone.
It even seemed cooler in here.
"For what purpose?" I asked.
And I was ready to answer a counter-question.
"There are several reasons," the Iceheart said, apparently having anticipated the subtext. Not surprising, really. "I could say it's simple female rivalry over a man. I could say I wanted to spite her by leveling her self-esteem. There could be a thousand and one reasons I told her I was also pregnant. But none of them would be the truth."
"That's exactly what I want to hear."
"I needed time," Isard said. "The news of a counter-pregnancy disoriented Mara. She couldn't verify the truth of my words with the Force because Vice Admiral Shohashi had placed ysalamiri cages quite densely on his ships. Logical on his part, given the opponent's disembodied nature. That made Jade act exactly as I predicted. She went to the medical section designated for gynecological examinations, to check whether I had been there, had undergone tests, and so on."
"That would be a logical impulse for a pregnant woman who couldn't have done such a thing while working undercover."
"Exactly," Isard nodded. "That's how I understood that Jade herself wasn't lying. Even experienced veterans of the Imperial Navy — let alone the Hand, who had everything she needed at her disposal — don't know that such a section exists on ships. It's not on the schematics, and its very existence is hard to explain. Only a medical droid can direct someone there by setting appropriate criteria during a routine exam. If you don't actively investigate it, you won't know that it's located far from the main medical bay and is usually locked. Women who can't use the regular infirmary generally aren't kept in the fleet."
So I learned that ships have a gynecological medical section.
Which isn't on the schematics.
Brilliant.
Smacks of idiocy.
Or else Lira Blisstex is a secret champion for comfortable service for women on Star Destroyers.
"So I got confirmation that Jade is indeed pregnant," Ysanne continued. "Then I did what I already said — I cleaned the data, restricted the circle of those in the know, and prepared everything necessary to remove her from harm's way."
"According to your plan, I wasn't supposed to find out she was pregnant?" I clarified, looking her in the eye.
"I would venture that such information during active combat operations is a happy but distracting factor," she declared. "According to the comprehensive psychological profile of the Chiss, which I studied on Byss, your race tends to take exceptional measures to protect offspring. I decided I could remove Jade from active operations without drawing attention, place her in the best clinic under false data. Thus parity would be achieved — the child would be safe, the mother too, and nothing would distract you from solving the current problems."
Now I fully understood the reason for that strange request — to put Jade under Isard's command for an extended period.
If Mara had realized what was going on…
Stop.
She's not stupid.
She understood.
Or at least guessed.
Only…
"Jade feared you would eliminate her and the child out of competition," I said.
"The real Isard might have done that," the heterochromatic woman smirked. "I'm not that much of a monster. I have a sense of self-preservation — and an understanding that my death would not be easy or painless once you found out."
Not "if."
"When."
She was certain I would find out everything if the Iceheart acted inhumanely.
"However, I have no desire to risk myself just to, for example, see Vice Admiral Shohashi's satisfied face and his big butcher's cleaver before I die," Isard continued. "I sided with you to work, not to fight my own. At least — not against you and those who work for the good of the Dominion."
"For internal enemies, we have Colonel Astarion and his subordinates," I reminded her. "As well as the Jensaarai Order."
"I think you understand perfectly that I won't sit idly by if, in the course of my work, I discover enemies within the state that our 'colleagues' missed," her thin eyebrow rose. "But I won't act on my own. Of course, I'll help them."
I could even understand her reasons for keeping Mara's pregnancy from me.
In fact, Isard hadn't really hidden it at all.
With her logic and cool head, she approached solving the problem in the most efficient way for the Dominion.
And for me too.
She was absolutely right — the Chiss aren't Spartans; they don't divide children into "good" and "defective." Birth rates, as far as I recall, aren't exactly high, so parents in the Ascendancy cherish and pamper their children (within the acceptable bounds of a militaristic society).
The situation with Mara needs to be resolved in the least bloody and burdensome way possible.
A line from a song came to mind — one with not many rhymed stanzas:
"My friend just dropped a problem."
An association, nothing more.
Doesn't really apply to the situation.
The political officer once told me that in any conflict, both sides are at fault — to some degree.
I have to understand that, by default, children aren't conceived without actions from both sides.
So throwing my hands up and complaining about how she didn't take care of this or that would be childish.
There's a problem — we'll solve it.
We have too many problems as it is, even without this situation.
And they need to be solved before it's too late.
Interesting fact.
I didn't hear a single complaint directed at me in the context of what happened.
Not from either of them.
Not a hint.
Let's file that thought.
And check something.
"Are you sure you want to participate in the operation against Exar Kun?" I clarified.
"Yes," Isard confirmed her intentions without hesitation. "I'm ready to begin preparations right now."
Her tone hadn't changed.
Her expression remained the same.
No nervousness.
No hidden aggression.
And no questions in the vein of: "So how do we go on from here?"
Interesting situation.
What I had thought would be the heaviest emotional moment hadn't even surfaced.
At least not openly.
But fate had another surprise.
My comlink gave a quiet, encoded beep.
Better not postpone it.
"You have the necessary time and all available resources for preparation," I said, hinting that I wanted to be left alone.
"As you wish," the Iceheart said without unnecessary words or actions, simply stood up from the table, offered a perfunctory farewell, and left the compartment.
Let's file that thought.
Her personal attitude toward me hadn't changed.
Now, back to work.
Connecting the comlink to a portable holographic projector, I saw the tiny figure of the Delta Squad commander, looking at me with his helmet off.
"Sir," he addressed me. "The squad is ready to carry out the assigned task. Awaiting your command to commence. We await further instructions and a specific mission objective."
Well.
If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, then Muhammad must go to the mountain.
"Proceed," I ordered. After a couple of seconds' thought, I added:
"If the prisoner poses a lethal threat to your squad or jeopardizes the operation — eliminate."
I don't need victory at any cost here.
Even if the "card" of Galen Marek's clone doesn't play, I have other options.
"Roger, sir," the commando saluted. "We're on it."
* * *
Hormones do terrible things.
Mara was ready to cry, scream in rage, draw her lightsaber, and chop a few targets into tiny pieces.
But she couldn't understand the reason for such a bouquet of desires.
So she did what seemed to her the best idea under the circumstances.
Changing into more comfortable clothes, she sat on the couch, habitually stroking her rounded belly — which no longer made sense to hide with the Force or clothing — and then began eating sweets.
All the while half-reading documents on a datapad and half-listening to Ahsoka, who was sitting across from her.
Ahsoka, as her only friend, had received a brief summary of what had been said within the conference compartment she and the other sentients had been left in.
"You know, I'm glad it all worked out like this," Ahsoka said unexpectedly, interrupting her story about another lesson from her Sith training. "At least now I don't have to hide your belly. And if you want to know, it's not even that big, considering the timing and what Isard said about the rapid growth of Chiss offspring. By the way, that matches what I was told by…"
"You don't have to try," Mara asked her, chewing a chocolate candy. "I don't need comforting."
"Really?" the Togruta smiled.
"Absolutely."
"And it doesn't bother you that Thrawn hasn't given any indication — by word or deed — of how to go on from here?"
Mara thought, then nodded affirmatively.
She lied, of course.
But she wasn't going to cry on someone's shoulder.
She wasn't a teenage girl suffering her first unrequited love.
She was an adult woman almost thirty, with no childhood, no youth, no socialization, who only knew how to spy, lie, carry out secret missions, and enjoy the power her position gave her.
Isard, the heterochromatic bitch, knew where to strike.
"Bitch," Mara thought, biting into another candy.
"And because of your complete, absolute, unshakable calm, you're tossing back sweets one after another?" Tano clarified.
Mara froze for a moment, then sent another candy into her mouth and nodded affirmatively.
"That was the last one," she said in a tone that inspired no confidence.
"I believe you, of course…" Ahsoka glanced at the door that had opened without warning. "Well, well, well. Familiar faces. Did you get the wrong cabin?"
Mara, who had already bitten the candy, swallowed it with effort.
Big one.
Even her throat hurt.
"I'm where I should be," Ysanne Isard said in a calm tone, the bulkhead closing behind her. "Don't you need to prepare for the mission, Lady Tano?"
"As a Jedi, I'm always ready. For what, I don't know; I have no intel, but just in case, I'll die for peace in the galaxy," the Togruta joked, smiling.
Isard looked at her as if she had a pair of Death Stars for eyes.
The Togruta's return gaze displayed a pair of her own: Luke Skywalker and Wedge Antilles.
Mara looked from one to the other, then sighed and, addressing her friend, said:
"Ahsoka, could you leave us?"
"No-o-o," she drawled. "Ever since my Padawan days, I've been curious about all sorts of gossip and other people's family secrets."
"I'll keep that in mind," the Iceheart's voice had the temperature of freezing stars. "Leave the room."
Tano looked at Jade.
"If it's not too much trouble," Mara smiled.
The Togruta sighed, stood up, and headed for the exit.
"Just like the Skywalker family," she grumbled. "Running around with secret pregnancies like nobody notices."
Drawing level with the Iceheart, she leaned toward her ear and whispered loudly enough for the whole cabin to hear:
"Hurt her — and I'll take you apart atom by atom. Slowly."
Ysanne slowly turned her head, looking the Togruta in the eye.
"Leave," she ordered. "Before I decide to digitize you, analyze you, and toss you out without a second thought, like defective goods."
Ahsoka, showing defiance with her entire demeanor, left the cabin.
"She remembers slights, but doesn't hold grudges," Mara said.
"Tell her to prepare a thicker notebook," Ysanne said, indicating the spot where the Togruta had just been sitting. "Mind if I sit down?"
"Do you need my permission?" the Hand was surprised. "I recall that when you needed secrets from my head, you didn't ask whether or not to torture me. You just tortured me."
"Don't confuse me with her," the Dominion's Director of Intelligence grimaced, settling down opposite. "And don't overdo it on sweets. That's not what the child needs. And you'll have to work harder to shed the extra weight later."
"Thoughtful Isard," Mara laughed softly. "I'll mark this day in red on my calendar and remember it with nostalgia."
"As you wish."
The Iceheart's voice was as indifferent as her expression.
"So?" Mara raised an eyebrow.
"We don't have much time to talk," Isard warned. "Very soon, the technicians will figure out the cause of the interference with the surveillance cameras in the corridor, so let's talk quickly."
"You hacked the Guardian's security system?"
Well, what else to expect from an Isard clone?
She sees the goal, believes in herself, has the means.
"I need to speak with you without prying eyes," she explained. "And Thrawn doesn't need to know about it."
"Then you should have kicked Ahsoka out of here with even more venomous remarks," Mara advised. "Then no one would have found out."
Wonder how the Iceheart neutralized the guards on the deck? Lethally or non-lethally?
"Tano won't say anything," Isard stated authoritatively.
"Are you going to get rid of her too?"
"I don't kill my own."
"A-a-ah… Did you tell Krennel that too?"
"Krennel was a tool. I was a tool. Sometimes one piece of equipment breaks another."
"You know, your idioms are annoying."
"That's all your hormones and bias against me."
"So now everything is my fault?" Mara flared up, tensing.
Well, if this bitch came to argue, she picked the wrong one.
Let's see how easy it is to scratch out those pretty eyes!
Too bad the ysalamiri completely block her cabin; otherwise, we could have danced the dance of competing females.
"I'm sorry," Mara choked on her prepared caustic comment, cautiously touching first one ear, then the other with her pinky. "I didn't mean to offend or provoke you."
"Did you spray hallucinogenic gas in here?" Mara advanced a theory for what was happening.
"No," Ysanne replied. "I truly apologized."
Now she was scared.
"Who are you?" Mara easily drew a hidden blaster from her sleeve. "And what have you done with the Iceheart?"
"Outplayed and destroyed her," the clone replied. "And Eric Shohashi skinned her like a rancor dressing a downed bantha."
Mara exhaled noisily.
"Fine, tell me why you came," she said. "I'm tired of this verbal sparring."
"I have a proposal for you."
"If it's for my hand and heart, you really have the wrong cabin."
Ysanne tilted her head slightly, like a biologist examining a microorganism under magnification.
"I want to ask you something."
"I'm not lending you money."
The Iceheart closed her eyes, and Mara didn't miss that she resorted to breathing exercises to calm down.
"Are you done?" Isard asked, looking at her.
"Now I am," Mara really had no intention of deliberately provoking Isard anymore.
It just wasn't interesting.
Like telling jokes to a wall and expecting it to laugh.
"I'm listening," Mara said.
Then something happened that Thrawn's Hand never expected.
Isard extended her hand to her.
"I propose a truce," she said.
Her voice was calm, measured, not a hint of anger, hysteria, panic, or gloating…
Like talking to a droid.
And to be honest, that scared Mara more than all her memories of dealing with the real Isard.
"It's not like we're at war," the red-haired girl looked carefully at the offered limb.
No jewelry, no synthetic flesh, wires, hidden weapons, stun contacts…
Maybe some contact poison?
Yeah, probably.
And she took the antidote before coming in.
No trace of her being here.
First eliminate her, then Ahsoka.
"I'm proposing to extinguish a nascent conflict before it manifests," Isard said, sizing up the situation and silently withdrawing her hand. "I think you understand why I'm doing this."
Mara understood.
But she wanted to hear it.
"Not a clue."
"You and I are no longer just subordinates to him," the Iceheart stated the obvious. "Or rather, no longer just subordinates. You are carrying his child under your heart, while I…"
"Oh, well, you're quite the leader in seducing grand admirals," Mara smiled. "Xenophobia didn't stop you?"
"I have Isard's memories, but I don't live by her criteria," the clone declared.
"And?"
"This is not the situation where we should behave stupidly and draw attention to ourselves," the Director declared. "The situation is too tense. You and your child are the number one target for hitting him where it hurts."
"I doubt it's that important to him."
"Otherwise, you wouldn't have witnessed what he said regarding participation in the mission against Kun," Isard countered.
Go on, talk more.
I can analyze and draw conclusions later.
Even if you're a droid in a uniform, you still have slip-ups, misstatements, and mistakes — the key is to notice them.
"I'm capable of working."
"If you really thought that, your friend wouldn't be casting illusions, and you wouldn't be hiding your figure under a cloak."
"That's… none of your business."
"You're mistaken. The security of the Dominion is my job."
"We're not talking about the Dominion."
"Do you really want to argue about the meaning of idioms?" Ysanne asked.
"I'm still waiting for you to outline your devilish plan," Mara admitted.
"Plan for which occasion in life?"
"The one concerning my elimination. Mine — and my child's."
"Our child," Isard corrected. "There is no such plan. Only a plan to ensure your safety. But it won't be needed."
"Is that so?"
"Thrawn will handle it himself."
Mara shuddered inwardly.
"Handle it himself" that means providing security, not eliminating some troublesome red-haired woman who overplayed her commander provocations and… performed her female functions.
Right?
Or not?
Or…
"What in the nine hells do you need all this for?" Mara asked. "Talking to me, making some sort of agreement."
"I'm not interested in female squabbles," Isard said.
"Oh, right. You're above all that," Mara smiled.
"I see no point in it," the Iceheart corrected. "What's done is done. And we're not children to play on each other's nerves."
"Technically, you're only a few years old," Mara scratched the back of her head. "A decade, maybe."
"Yes, and my life is short," Isard reminded her. "Whether a cure for clone aging appears or not, I want to live a full life."
"Preferably with a blue-skinned humanoid warming your bed, with a grand admiral's uniform hanging serenely on a chair beside it?" Jade clarified.
"That's an interesting scenario," Isard agreed. "But I'm not interested in playing dirty."
"Since when?"
What is this, a day of righteousness?
"Do you know that the real Isard loved Palpatine?" the clone suddenly asked.
"Um-m-m…" Mara hesitated. "There were rumors she was his mistress. But when I was his Hand, it didn't interest me much. Now I think… Didn't it disgust you? He was like a shriveled scrotum. The Emperor, I mean."
"I understand you take pleasure in saying to me what you couldn't say to the real Isard's face, but it doesn't bother me," the clone shared. "And I'm not interested in her personal life."
"Still?" Mara couldn't resist. "Come on, tell me!"
"No."
"You're being nice today!"
"I'm permanently not mean," Ysanne cut her off. "But if you want an answer, maybe you'll share the story of how exactly you bypassed the medication course you were on…"
"One-one," Mara's voice, though not freezing, cooled the clone's ardor.
"The real Isard admired the Emperor," Ysanne continued as if nothing had happened. "She saw him as the brightest star in the galaxy. A star she attached herself to. She admired his magnetism, his allure. She melted at the thought that one look from him could thaw the ice in her soul. She admired the values he proclaimed. And dying for those values became the core that prevented her from bending. Quite the opposite. In memory of her love, she began a crusade against his murderers. And if she had been a little more restrained, she wouldn't have made such childish mistakes."
"Oh, look, self-analysis has arrived," Mara grinned. "Ever thought of writing a book about Isard? With such juicy details, you could buy the biggest vault in the galaxy for the auridium ingots from sales."
Ysanne calmly looked Mara in the eye.
"Why did you tell me that?" Mara asked quietly.
"Thrawn is my brightest star in the galaxy," she answered simply.
"So... you love him?" Mara almost choked on the words.
A supernova seemed to explode in her head.
How could THIS thing love?
Feel?
It was a machine in flesh.
Iceheart was...
THROWN OFF BALANCE?
The question had caught her off guard, and a nearly physical wave of surprise rippled from her.
Mara almost howled with frustration!
What the hell was wrong with those disgusting ysalamiri?
Oh, how she could use the Force right now to seize the moment and learn something intimate!
It was unlikely she'd ever get another chance to make Isard lose her composure with this question, and the woman certainly wasn't in a hurry to open up.
Such an opportunity, wasted!
She could have learned what Isard was really plotting and foiled her plans.
Isard pulled herself together, running her hands down her hips as if straightening the trousers of her scarlet uniform.
"Yes," she answered curtly. "I suspect you do too."
"Ysanne Isard 'suspects,'" Mara said slowly. "Doesn't know, but suspects... No, there's no way I'm erasing this day from my memory, even if I wanted to."
"We're alike in that," Iceheart blurted out.
"We're nothing alike," Mara cut her off.
"I was brought to my current state by a game, by trying to understand the Grand Admiral and the mechanism that turned the enemy's killing machine into what he himself is. You, it seems to me, were brought here by an adventure. You decided to test how far his patience with you extends."
"It seems to me your 'suspicions' are a little too close to the truth," Mara narrowed her eyes. "Did he tell you?"
"No," said Isard.
"So he ignored your questions about me?" Jade was stunned, not even trying to hide her surprise.
"I didn't ask," Isard explained.
"That sounds like you don't care how it turned out."
"The mechanics of conceiving a child are known to me," what the hell?
That bitch was smiling too?
What a defective clone Isard had turned out to be!
Not like her at all!
"You know what, I don't believe you," Mara admitted. "One minute you say let's not argue or divide things, the next you declare that Thrawn is a light in the galactic darkness for you... It doesn't add up. The Isard character wouldn't share what she considers hers with anyone."
"Correction," Iceheart raised her index finger. "Even the real Isard put up with Palpatine having an endless number of concubines."
"Oh... wasn't it just Roganda Ismarek?" Mara clarified.
"No. Roganda was one of the few who grasped the seriousness of the situation and knew how to keep her mouth shut about the spicy details," Isard explained. "Those who lacked such common sense were 'lost' in the Imperial Palace."
Mara shuddered, remembering the stories about hundreds of people vanishing in the Emperor's residence.
True, those stories were told in the context of the staff.
But wasn't that a convenient legend to cover up the real dirty dealings of the Emperor's servants?
She wondered if the rebels, when they took the Palace, had found any bodies, or at least remains.
"But we're not talking about Palpatine," Mara reminded her.
"Exactly," Ysanne agreed. "Correction number two," she extended her middle finger from her fist to join her index finger. "Thrawn won't put up with scandals under his nose. If we start dividing things, we'll end up with nothing."
"He won't give up the child."
"Of course not," Isard said calmly. "He'll give up you. And me."
"Separating a mother from her child isn't the best idea," Mara paled.
"Sending your woman into enemy territory, where the only defense against a sadist and mass murderer picking through your brain is thoughts of puppy-dog loyalty to your master—that isn't a guaranteed success either," Iceheart admitted.
"Ah... how did you manage it? He would have sensed your lie. He always senses it," Mara swallowed the lump in her throat.
"I didn't lie."
"Ah...?"
Bewildered, Mara instinctively reached for her blaster.
Well, this was something.
"When I thought with admiration about my master, I didn't picture any specific person," Ysanne explained. "No images of Thrawn or Palpatine."
Jade felt her palms go sweaty.
She knew exactly what picture of adoration and genuine emotion you had to show to make Palpatine arrogantly believe that your every thought was only of him, her beloved.
And that was truly terrifying.
It seemed Isard really wasn't... a machine.
Which meant she wouldn't back down.
"Why didn't it work for you?" Mara asked.
And Isard understood the subtext of the question perfectly.
"That's personal," she said, but a muscle twitched in her face. "And I'm not going to tell you."
Oh, how she missed the Force.
This "friend" was being shady.
"You do realize that no woman is dearer to a man than the mother of his child?" Mara clarified.
"For a time, yes," the clone nodded, and for a moment Mara thought she saw pain flash in her eyes. No, she imagined it. She definitely imagined it. She imagined it, right? "Those are echoes of our animal nature. But after a certain time, the psychological bond weakens."
"We'll see about that," Mara thought.
"So that's why you want a 'truce' for this period?" she realized, looking triumphantly at her rival.
"For the most part, to avoid destroying what's been created," Iceheart corrected. "This isn't the right situation."
"Maybe you won't get another chance," Mara remarked. "Unless, of course, while I'm rotting away somewhere, you get busy and repeat my success."
"Well, that would take me out of working for the Dominion's benefit at the most crucial moment," Isard noted with a slight smile that sent chills down your spine.
Hey, knees, stop shaking!
It's just Isard's smile.
I agree, it's scary as hell, but we're not giving up!
"And it would also be unfair to you," Isard suddenly dropped on her.
"There should be a line about fair competition now," Mara Jade winced.
"There will be a line about how I will destroy anyone who threatens you or the child," Isard said seriously. "So, I'm asking you to sit quietly wherever you end up, do what you need to do to take care of the little one. I'll just be working for the Dominion's benefit. After all, it's not for us to make the choice. And dirty tricks will eventually come to light. And Thrawn's wrath will be swift and terrible."
Was his smile scary?
Pfft!
That was nothing!
Promises like that made the blood run cold!
"It seems to me it would be better for you if something happened to us," Mara suggested.
"I'm certain nothing can replace a loss like that," said Isard. "I don't want to be around because I was pitied. I'm not a consolation prize. I'm not the one who was called because there was no one else. And you think the same way."
"Well... Technically, I did turn out to be the backup plan," Mara looked down. "You weren't there, I was around... So yeah..."
"If that's what you think, you're dumber than I thought," Isard unceremoniously rose from the couch. "If so, I hope the child inherits your looks and the father's brains."
"That sounded insulting," Mara admitted. "But no. It's just my fear, Isard. That I'm just your replacement."
"And mine is that I'm just a toy that got picked up and put to work until it breaks," Iceheart unexpectedly opened up. "As you can see, we both have things to worry about."
"Any minute now some ragged old man will run into the cabin, start bowing and saying that we're actually blood sisters, and an evil Sith uncle separated us, but the Great Force willed it that we live similar fates and meet, sharing love for the same man," Mara batted her eyelashes.
Isard stared at her for a while with an unreadable expression, then advised:
"Don't watch old Alderaanian melodramas. They make you stupid. And the plot is terrible."
"Completely agree," Mara sighed, extending her hand. "Truce."
Isard perfectly copied the pose Mara had struck when examining her gesture.
"Absolutely sure there aren't any hidden poison injectors?" Iceheart asked without a trace of a smile.
"Just poisonous sarcasm, and the cover of a pubescent brat's behavior," Mara admitted in an even tone, stepping out of the dim-witted bitch persona.
Isard silently shook her hand.
"Take care of yourself," she unexpectedly pulled the girl close, embracing the red-haired fury. "If you need my help..."
"I know your comlink number, but I'll try to forget it," Mara promised, crossing the index and middle fingers of her free hand. "Hand-on-a-Thrawn's-honor."
Shocking Mara with another good-natured half-smile, Iceheart left her quarters.
Sitting for a few moments in a jumble of feelings, Mara shook her red mane.
"No," she said decisively. "I definitely need to get checked for some sophisticated poison. I just don't believe it!"
Her gaze drifted blankly to the table, and anger appeared on her face:
"The bitch! She stole my candies!"
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