Ten years, six months, and twenty days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or the forty-fifth year, sixth month, and twentieth day after the Great Resynchronization.
(One year, second month, and thirty-fifth day since the Arrival.)
"Approaching, Sergeant," THX-0333 reported as their camouflaged starship arrived at the destination point.
"Are you sure we weren't spotted?" Scorch asked the flamethrower operator sitting in the pilot's seat.
"Scanners are clear," Fixer said. "If they did see us, they definitely decided that a Raider-II-class corvette equipped with stealth systems doesn't pose any threat."
"Sergeant," Scorch's face lit up like a Jedi touching the Force, "Fixer has learned sarcasm!"
"Six-Two," the assistant commander of Delta Squad addressed him, "you know what you have to do?"
"Yes, sir," Scorch sighed sadly. "Shutting up now."
They had arrived on a mission in the Sumitra Sector in the Mid Rim.
Otherwise known as the "Tifron Sector," it stretched across a full quadrant and a half.
None of the clones knew the sector's history up to the Clone Wars, except maybe THX-0333.
But that wasn't certain.
What the Deltas knew before they became the Fourth Special Squad of Assault Commandos was that the Sumitra Sector had "distinguished itself" during the Clone Wars.
Sumitra Sector.
Notable points: Between the Sumitra Sector and the southeastern borders of the Dominion lie the Trans-Vulta and Odgoster sectors.
And the Mandalorian Sector is a bit farther north...
But who really cares about that?
That's fleet business—knowing where to send commandos.
The sector capital, which oversees more than twelve thousand planets and moons (only a fraction of which are inhabited by various species), took steps during the Clone Wars to secede from the Galactic Republic and join the CIS.
The king of the ruling dynasty, a Sephi, maintained neutrality, surrounded by corrupt officials.
He also ignored Jedi warnings that secession from the Republic could lead to military invasion.
His subsequent death delivered the planet Tustra, and likely the entire sector, into the hands of the Confederacy of Independent Systems—just as Supreme Chancellor Palpatine had predicted.
And that set off a chain of events the locals would rather undo.
But time machines remain the domain of science fiction, so the Sephi, along with the rest of Sumitra's population, drank deeply of all the "delights" of Imperial occupation.
First, a powerful military fleet was deployed here, and heavy garrisons were spread across the worlds.
Suppression of dissent was harsh, even brutal, which in turn led local independence fighters to join forces with the Alliance to Restore the Republic.
The latter set up a base in the sector, actively harassing Imperial nerves and communications.
In the end, after the Battle of Endor, the Sumitra Sector was one of the first to throw off the Empire.
It was also one of the first to experience an attack from Imperial Space.
Currently, Imperial forces have been driven from the sector, and local authority has been reestablished.
So "local" that a significant portion of known and developed worlds now survive only through smuggling, and various criminal organizations position themselves as leaders of entire worlds and systems, having bent them to their will.
True, intelligence reported an excessive number of Republic ships in the sector, including contraband vessels transporting goods for the New Republic under the Empire's nose.
But the Deltas were interested in the sector only insofar as their mission required.
They had arrived in the Ridjan system to check a lead.
According to intelligence data, the Alliance had once used the Ridjan system to store fuel and weapons in deep space, off the usual routes.
And officially, it had supposedly been mothballed long ago and ceased operation.
But the Deltas could see with their own eyes a colossal structure orbiting a dim gas giant, seemingly cobbled together from hundreds of pieces of various stations into a single system.
They could spot at least five docked MC80a star cruisers, with New Republic identification marks on their hulls.
And that's not counting the dozens of fuel transport ships waiting in the loading zone.
Add to that a dozen and a half Corellian corvettes and escort frigates forming an outer patrol ring, alongside no fewer than five squadrons of X-wings.
"Neutrality, huh?" Scorch snorted.
"That's exactly why we were sent here," Boss reminded him. "To verify intelligence and gather data."
There was also a second part to the mission, but that had to be postponed for now.
Dominion agents on Tustra had worn themselves out searching for Master Meilis, but the information obtained was not extensive.
The Master had led an underground cell opposing the Empire throughout the Galactic Civil War, fighting for the independence of the Sumitra Sector.
Consequently, she had certainly survived Order 66, though the Deltas had no confirmation of that.
She couldn't have come out of hiding under Imperial occupation—even the fact that she had left the Order long before Operation Knightfall and renounced her vows didn't matter much.
Her fellow Order member, the Arkanian Serifa Altunen, had followed the same path—abandoning the Jedi, disregarding all prior oaths.
But she had done so at the very beginning of the Clone Wars.
And despite the fact that her efforts were largely responsible for Arkania not joining either side in the Clone Wars, the Empire tracked down and destroyed Altunen.
Specifically as a Jedi. As a thought leader on Arkania. As an opponent of Arkania's integration into the Empire.
The Deltas knew this firsthand.
Because they had been part of the search team sent after the Arkanian.
Returning to Meilis, Dominion intelligence had found several indirect hints that the Sephi was still alive.
And she definitely did not sympathize with the New Republic.
Nor with the Empire, the Dominion, or even the Alliance, for that matter.
Self-determination for the Sumitra Sector was the main idea behind her underground activities.
If that's the case, then... maybe there was a chance to negotiate.
And somehow Grand Admiral Thrawn was certain that the mission at the fuel depot would help the "Deltas" find the Sephi.
As usual, the Grand Admiral didn't share the reasons for his confidence.
But the Deltas had not the slightest reason to doubt him.
"Docking complete," THX-0333 reported. "Sergeant. We're not the only ones who decided to use this inconspicuous docking node."
Boss looked at the scanners — their ship, still under stygium cloak, had docked at one of the emergency airlocks in the far section of the station.
And if you looked closely, about a hundred meters from their position, where one piece of wreckage was welded to another, almost blending into the ugly structure, sat another ship.
Characteristically — docked to another emergency airlock.
A very familiar ship.
"That's..." Scorch rose from his seat.
"Exactly," Boss nodded, putting on his helmet and activating his HUD. "That's Master Meilis's ship, the one she flew back in the Clone Wars. Let's move, brothers. First — the information core, then — we find the Sephi."
Blast it all, but Thrawn knew for certain the Deltas would find the Jedi here.
Because Master Meilis would sooner die than give her favorite light freighter to anyone.
A cargo hauler, with the firepower of an entire cruiser hidden beneath its rusted hull.
* * *
Operational summaries of the second phase of the counteroffensive can't help but please.
Eighty percent of objectives have been achieved.
Despite a schedule shift "to the right" and an obvious campaign delay due to fierce resistance from the Zann Consortium's allies on the ground, losses are below projections.
The eternal military dilemma.
What's more important — meeting campaign deadlines, or reducing your own losses?
A difficult question.
The deadlines were set solely so the campaign would be finished by the time of Palpatine's attack.
However, that last factor was calculated without accounting for the successful completion of the Iceheart's mission.
As a result, we have a slight surplus of time.
There is an opportunity to finish the campaign to eliminate Zann's and Cronal's allies with fewer losses and still reinforce the new borders by the time Palpatine finds out and starts acting.
The data from the Tion Cluster isn't encouraging, of course.
Admiral Woodstock is acting professionally, ruthlessly, with tactical and strategic initiative.
He's already struck at the forward fleets of nearby sectors in the Cluster, forcing them to withdraw from the administrative border.
He's launched raid groups into enemy territory, while preparing to throw his main forces against a specific sector.
Distraction on secondary fronts, concentration of force on the main one.
Textbook tactics.
Command efforts aimed at waging war for results, not for personal gratification.
This man deserves a closer look.
He will likely become one of the problems.
Not an annoying nuisance like Dobramu, but a real problem — like the Zeltron with the New Republic, or Admiral Arkh with the Galactic Alliance.
The elimination of Ackbar and the Imperial commanders led to predictably unexpected results — those who previously couldn't hope for promotion crawled out from the shadow of the Mon Calamari.
For the most part, these aren't particularly capable commanders, but among them are leaders who can rally the rest and push campaigns in the right direction.
Well, we'll take that into account too.
Leaning back in my chair, I closed my eyes and massaged them through my eyelids, pressing lightly with my fingers.
The gritty feeling under my eyelids gradually faded, and my vision cleared.
I need rest.
While the Guardian moves into position for the final phase of the campaign to destroy the Silri Syndicate, there's time to rest and recalculate the plan of action one more time.
Perhaps errors overlooked by the analysts in previous runs will be found.
I should pay attention to the New Republic.
Fey'lya has undoubtedly realized his attack on Karthakk failed, and therefore will try to get revenge.
The captured Bothan never spoke — the psychological processing only made him withdraw into himself.
Well, that was anticipated too.
After all, he's an experienced saboteur and agent; other people's suffering doesn't touch him — otherwise he wouldn't be the one the most influential representatives of the Bothan people backed so strongly.
No matter.
Now Isard is in my arsenal, and the prisoner has become her problem — along with a number of other tasks I personally oversaw in her absence.
Did I regret giving the Lusankya to Ysanne and turning a warship, one of three at my disposal, into a mobile headquarters and command center for Dominion Intelligence?
No, I don't regret it.
Even after rearmament and upgrades, the Lusankya is weaker than her sister ships.
In defense, she's self-sufficient, considering her escort, but sending her into attack — not worth it.
We have other ships to fight with.
But she'll need a long time to recruit a crew.
For now, droids are enough to manage the ship, but for combat, such crew members aren't the best solution.
Self-analysis is a useful thing.
Especially when it doesn't turn into self-reflection.
My actions have slowed.
Due to the increase in the number of enemies and operations.
This thought haunts me.
Yes, the destruction of Exar Kun freed up the task force's resources to begin the hunt for Cronal.
Let Agent Cross amuse himself; he's in good company with Mace Windu and his apprentice, Jaden Korr.
I need to know how things are in the Corporate Sector at this moment.
Cronal is clearly ignoring Palpatine's order to attack the Dominion — not a single attempt to break the blockade has occurred since the order was given.
Either Cronal has "gone AWOL," or he's preparing.
In any case — Cross knows where to start the search.
Let him work.
He wanted this himself.
Ahsoka Tano, just like the Shadow Apprentice, and just like Darth Deimos and Gantoris — are my strategic reserve for the operation against the Silri Syndicate and Darth Ziilenlos.
The forces needed to finish this are already assembled and moving toward the Chimaera.
It will all be over soon.
First the Syndicate, then the Consortium.
After that, I'll be at ease about my rear lines, the Dominion's security, and ready to work against Palpatine.
It would be fortunate if the Altisians show reason and help with the search for the Eye of Palpatine.
Otherwise, the search will have to proceed according to the backup plan, which I don't like.
Because it involves bringing in the Ismarek family — Roganda and her son, who pulled the Eye out of obscurity in the events I know of.
Given that the boy is under agent surveillance and capable of controlling mechanisms, letting him anywhere near Dominion technology is like shooting yourself in the foot with a Verpine shotgun.
As long as an alternative exists, I should use it.
Do I believe that Sedriss is genuinely acting without the Emperor's approval?
Partly.
I am convinced that the Executor is indeed suffering from madness following his failures.
But at the same time, I do not underestimate Palpatine.
He was smart enough not to build all his superweapon projects simultaneously, but to redistribute resources.
That's alarming.
As is the fact that Lumiya, Carnor Jax, and the Yuuzhan Vong are cooperating.
I should monitor Jax to understand whether he is still subordinate to Isard, or has recovered and is working for Lumiya.
Another problem...
And these are only the ones I know by name.
The number of enemies isn't decreasing — significant effort is required for that.
Therefore, I need to study yet another future conflict.
Grodin, who in Rukh's absence is acting as both bodyguard and adjutant, reported that the time for the scheduled meeting had come and the guest was waiting.
Good.
I didn't summon him secretly for nothing; he came aboard during a brief stop at the Dominion's border.
And he will leave immediately after we stop at Horn to replenish our supply of combat droids.
"Grand Admiral," the Zygerrian nodded in greeting.
"Agent Sagaal'Shan," I replied in the same tone. "You will have a personal assignment. Maximum security clearance."
Which means — if you fail, you have no right to stay alive and be captured.
But, since the Zygerrian is a mercenary spy, the tasks need to be set separately for him.
And well paid.
"I'm listening, Grand Admiral."
"To my knowledge, you have been involved with artifacts and art objects in the past."
"Mostly — involved in their search and acquisition," the Zygerrian clarified. "Often — by completely illegal means."
"The methodology of your work does not interest me," I explained. "But you are right about one thing — it concerns art objects and valuable artifacts. I need to replenish my collection," I pointed to numerous projections of various works of art, depicted in yellow hues of light.
"Of course," the Zygerrian nodded. "Where and what must I do?"
"Proceed to the Koornacht Cluster," I ordered. "I need artifacts of the Yevethan race, as well as complete data on their forces, fleet capabilities, army, and defense forces."
The Zygerrian didn't even flinch.
"I will do everything in my power, Grand Admiral..."
Well, another operation is beginning to be prepared against the backdrop of ongoing campaigns.
* * *
The Fourth Special Operations Squad advanced through the factory's technical corridors, among pipes and cables.
Remaining unnoticed by either sentries or surveillance systems, the Deltas, even without using their camouflaged black Katarn armor, managed yet again to stay undetected.
The main objective was complete — they had obtained a copy of the data from the information core.
And, judging by the fact that it was encrypted with New Republic military codes, and the latest generation at that, there really was something very, very interesting in there.
Fortieth was currently cracking the encryption on the move.
"Fixer, found anything?" the squad commander asked, stepping over a large pipe with a nearly worn-off inscription reading "flammable!"
"Work files are too well encrypted, Sergeant," Fixer replied. "But I did get access to the surveillance cameras."
"Go on."
"Meilis is here, sir. She hasn't shown up on the cameras," logical, otherwise an alarm would have been raised — "but I managed to spot the reflection of her armor and a blurred face on one of the fuel line pipes. The Observer missed it, or the whole garrison would be on alert. She passed this way less than an hour ago."
They had been searching for the Jedi for nearly five hours now.
The signal devices left near the approach to her spaceship were silent.
They hadn't been disabled, removed, or bypassed — no one had approached them since their insertion.
The Deltas were following the trail.
And the longer they searched for the Jedi, the less Boss thought it was a good idea.
Sending clone commandos after a Jedi to invite her for negotiations was generally a stupid plan.
But orders aren't discussed.
Walon Vau once said that in the army, the one who shows initiative should also be the one to carry it out.
Generating ideas and then cowardly sitting on the sidelines, dumping their execution onto others' shoulders — that's not the Mandalorian way.
"I don't like this, not one bit," Scorch muttered on the squad channel, placing another signal beacon behind the team.
Naturally, they wanted to know what was happening in their rear.
But when you're moving through a pile of scrap metal containing ammunition, weapons, and no less than fifty-seven percent of all tanks filled with fuel, only a complete di'kut would lay mines or even signal devices.
In the first case, there's a high chance of ending your life spectacularly and brightly; in the second, of alarming every sentient on the station.
Considering the crews of the docked cruisers refueling before departure, if their presence was discovered, the Deltas would have to fight several thousand Republic soldiers.
And Sephi.
Lots of Sephi.
Judging by the chevrons on the uniforms — government troops.
And in that mass of data Fixer copied, there's clearly an explanation of how the local authorities are connected to the New Republic.
"Or maybe we should just leave a note and fly away?" Scorch suggested.
"Six-Two, just shut up," Fixer said.
"I'm constantly worried, Fortieth, you know? You remember her, right? I hope this pretty lady doesn't give us too hot a reception. And I'm not talking about when she treated us to roasted meat and wine after Pammant..."
"Scorch," Boss said.
"Shut up, yes, Sergeant?"
"You're catching on."
"I'm learning from you."
The group continued moving, approaching a fork in the technical tunnel.
From here, the fuel lines branched in three directions.
But that was just one perspective.
In reality, the pipes converged at this manifold, then diverged to all the docking bays.
They had come from docking area number three.
Two more pipes led to landing zones one and two.
The third pipe, the largest and consequently with the greatest capacity, led to the main fuel reservoir.
The refueling station operated non-stop.
Automated harvester ships collected fuel from the gas giant's atmosphere, purified it, and offloaded it into several main reservoirs.
And from those, fuel was transported via pipelines to the starships docked at the cargo area.
"Right," Fixer bent over a brand-new Dominion-made datapad, which had replaced his old work tool. "I've sent the pipeline map to the HUDs. Which way, Sergeant?"
"If I were a Jedi saboteur, who infiltrated a fuel station belonging to the government I'm fighting against, which supplies the New Republic's warships for some unknown reason, where would I go?" Scorch mused.
Boss surveyed the cluster of pipes receding into the distance, marked with signs reading "flammable," "explosive," "poisonous," "toxic," and others.
He didn't want to go in there.
At all.
"We're heading to the main reservoir," Boss ordered.
"I wouldn't want to test the durability of our new armor against the contents of these pipes, Sergeant," Scorch said. "I'm suddenly not so eager to meet that little brunette again..."
"We have our orders — and we will carry them out," Boss interrupted him. "Besides, we initiated the search for Meilis ourselves."
"So we'll deal with it ourselves", he finished the thought silently.
And for the umpteenth time, he thanks the creators of the Katarn armor that squad members can communicate without a single extraneous sound escaping from under the plating.
"Commander, permission to ask a question?" THX-0333 addressed him, speaking for the first time since the Jedi search mission began.
"Yes," Boss said, keeping his DS-17 trained on the end of the tunnel visible in the distance.
"I don't understand the reasons for the duality in your behavior," Thirty-Third said bluntly. "You say she might be dangerous to you. But you yourself wanted to meet her. Knowing what you're saying now. Why strive to find her then? That's a contradiction."
"And then some."
Scorch's tongue is loose.
"Boss, let me explain?" Scorch cut in on the channel.
"Initiative and initiator."
"He opened this MRE — let him chew it."
"Thirty-Third, Master Meilis," Scorch began cheerfully, then sort of deflated. "She's not an ordinary Jedi."
"Yes, you mentioned that. Colonel Selid's memories indicate that Jedi had unique characteristics that posed a problem, preventing the development of a purely effective method of fighting them without involving Inquisitors."
"Thirty-Third," Boss appealed to the second sergeant, not taking his eyes off the path. "Colonel Selid is dead. His memories — are your memories. Stop separating them. Consider his past as your own as well."
"That's illogical, sir."
"Exactly. But you're a man, not a droid, to divide the contents of your head into 'mine' and 'not mine.'"
"We knew plenty of good guys who went crazy from that," Fixer added.
The only thing he didn't mention was that all the incidents were linked to Spaarti clones and "GeNod."
Given THX-0333's origin, which he had told them about, clonic madness could be expected on any front.
"I'll take that into account, sir."
"Well, I should hope so."
"So anyway," Scorch continued. "I already said — Meilis can manipulate fire."
"Like a flamethrower operator?"
"Only she doesn't need a flamethrower. She creates the flame herself. And controls it using her Jedi powers," Boss explained.
THX-0333 was silent for a few seconds, gripping his DC rifle.
This time he hadn't taken his favorite weapon, but there was a good reason for that — carrying a flamethrower onto a fuel plant was a very stupid idea.
"Jensaarai can create illusions," he declared. "Perhaps the flame and its control are also an illusion."
It seemed the flamethrower operator was offended that someone else also knew how to greet enemies with "hot" welcomes.
"You should've said that at the Pammant shipyards," Fixer muttered. "I'd like to see your 'illusions' then."
"Pammant?" Thirty-Third repeated.
"Exactly," Boss confirmed. "The planet with the CIS shipyards in the Mon Calamari sector. We paid a visit there during the height of the Clone Wars."
"More precisely — to waste one of the Subjugators," Scorch clarified. "You've heard of them, right?"
"I am informed," THX-0333 confirmed. "Heavy cruisers, reaching five kilometers in length. Four were built. The lead ship was equipped with a super-powerful ion cannon, which it used to disable entire Republic fleets. It was sabotaged during an operation to capture it."
"Not exactly," Fixer corrected. "Five ships were laid down before the Republic put an end to the construction. The lead ship was the Subjugator. It was armed with a three-hexalon launcher. Jedi blew it up, preventing it from bombarding Coruscant with that filth. The ship you're talking about is the Malevolence. The Jedi finished that one too — supposedly reprogrammed the main computer, and instead of jumping to hyperspace, it rammed an uninhabited moon. The third was also armed with a monstrous cannon. And the Jedi killed that one too. The fourth we turned into scrap metal. The fifth — again, the Jedi. But it wasn't built at Pammant anymore — by then the planet had been blown to pieces."
"But that one wasn't our doing!" Scorch declared.
"Colonel Selid believed there were only four..." THX-0333 seemed at a loss for words. "I... thought so too."
These are the ships in question. This image shows the Malevolence, also known as the Malevolent, also known as the Malefic (depending on the translator's brain damage).
The general appearance of all five ships is exactly like this, with significant variations in armament from pennant to pennant.
"Secrecy," Boss explained. "GAR intelligence established that the Confederates had gathered scrap metal after the Malevolence's crash and decided to build a second ship of that type. Master Meilis and I were sent to verify this information and gather intel. At Pammant, before it even left the slips, Republic agents were working, but they went silent, and no one knew anything about the Malevolence's appearance. When we got there, we realized the massive orbital dock where these behemoths were built was busy working. And the ship was nearly complete. Meilis ordered a diversion — by the time we returned to the Republic, reported, the top brass believed us and showed concern, sent a team and devised a workable plan — the second Malevolence would have already destroyed several dozen worlds. The situation was complicated by the fact that the leader of the CIS, Count Dooku, and the commander of the droid army, General Grievous, were present on Pammant. They were overseeing the ship's acceptance and security was too heavy. Meilis lured them to the surface to distract them. We wreaked havoc on the ship, then she flew back for us. But she wasn't satisfied that we had only burned the ship to a crisp. Although in the state we intended to leave it, it would have been easier to scrap it. She wanted it destroyed. And the shipyard building these ships too. Grievous and Dooku came flying after her. What happened then..."
Boss plunged into memories against his will.
Yes, the second Malevolence was that mission where everyone thought they wouldn't make it back to base.
Especially when...
"We fell back to the reactor level because we were cut off from the landing bay," Fixer continued. "There was nowhere to run, so Meilis said she'd blow the reactor."
"And I was out of bombs by then," Scorch explained.
"In the end, while we held off the droids for about fifteen minutes, Meilis melted the reactor's containment shell," Boss said. "We were down to minutes. Dooku and Grievous had vanished; we made a break for it. You love flamethrowers, don't you, Thirty-Third?"
"It's an effective weapon, sir."
"I've seen you direct a wave of fire ahead of yourself. Only, to avoid getting burned, you have to wait until more comfortable conditions are created to continue the path," Boss said. "Now imagine our retreat."
"Sergeant, can I tell it?" Scorch asked, practically bouncing in his armor, eager to share the story in vivid detail.
"Go ahead," Boss allowed, deciding he'd already talked too much today.
"This doesn't bode well."
"We covered her, and she walked ahead," Scorch said. "A wall of fire that melted every droid in the corridor instantly. But she made sure we could move without fear of armor damage. She literally parted the flames with her bare hands and the force of her will. I remember it like it was just now. The fire raging all around, the temperature sensor screaming, and she's just walking at a brisk pace, arms spread apart. In the hangar, we found the freighter you saw at the emergency airlock and left the ship in it. We flew away under the fireworks display at the Pammant shipyards. You can't describe a sight like that in words — you have to see it. Though," Scorch grew somber, "when Pammant was torn to pieces, it was probably an even more beautiful sight."
"Sounds too fantastic," THX-0333 said. "Even for a Jedi. I haven't come across any records of pyrokinesis. It might be some kind of trick."
"Bitter, huh?" Scorch asked sympathetically. "I get it, brother, I couldn't believe something like that was possible for a week myself. We worked with Jedi before and after that — never saw abilities like that in anyone else. But take my word for it, Meilis definitely knew how to pull those tricks with fire control."
The Deltas fell silent.
The clones sank into their memories, not forgetting to keep the corridor under surveillance.
The silence was broken first by TX-0033.
"She's an extremely dangerous opponent."
"Now you understand why Scorch would prefer to be far away from here," said Fixer.
"I also understand that such a subject could be useful for the Dominion armed forces. Manipulating flame is a strong asset in battle."
"Plus we're looking for her at a fuel processing plant. You catch the irony, Thirty-Third?" asked Scorch. "Ah, but that meat she treated us to on Coruscant was delicious. I hope she cooks something like that again. Thirty-Third, have you ever been treated by a Jedi to home-cooked nerf meat on a spit?"
"No," he promptly admitted.
"Well, Meilis cooked for us. Delicious…"
"Let's hope she doesn't cook us," Boss grumbled, seeing their journey through the fuel pipe tunnel was coming to an end. "And one more thing, Fixer. You know what I want right now."
"I understand, sir. Six-Two?"
"Not a Gungan, got it. I'll shut up now."
Stepping out into a large room filled with pipes and cables, the squad looked around.
In the center was a massive tank that could easily fit a Victory-class Star Destroyer.
The main reservoir, responsible for supplying most of the military docking nodes.
Boss glanced up at the catwalks, but no one was there.
The Katarn's sensors weren't picking up anything either.
But instinct kept warning him that things could go very wrong at any moment.
His gaze fell on a pipe beneath his feet; it looked old, a thin stream of gas escaping from a valve.
The clones silently moved away from it.
The absence of intelligent life sharpened their instincts to a razor's edge.
They paid no attention to the service droids, and the tin cans returned the favor.
Their simple minds were created solely to perform their assigned tasks, not to evaluate who was wandering around the facility.
Someone had saved a lot on security.
He'd have to remind that someone he was wrong.
Surveying the area using various HV filters yielded nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Besides the four clones, there wasn't a single living soul here.
"Blast, she didn't just dissolve into thin air, did she?" Boss finally broke, realizing they'd have to start the search from scratch. "Fixer, check the local computer for anything useful."
"Roger, Sergeant."
The squad leader pulled off his helmet, feeling inexplicably short of breath.
Failure seemed to be weighing on his psyche.
Because he never would have exposed himself like this before.
"Sergeant," Scorch addressed him, "I don't want to upset you, but you're standing right over a fuel pipe. Please step off it, it's making me nervous."
"Six-Two, this whole place is one giant fuel tank!" Fixer clarified, finishing his download from the local terminal. "Nothing, Sergeant. Nobody's even tried to access it."
"Well, well, well, and who do we have here?" a voice suddenly came from behind and above.
Boss spun around instantly, raising his DC-17, barely stopping himself from pulling the trigger.
Two levels up, on a service catwalk, stood a beautiful Sephi woman with black hair and piercing blue eyes, wearing black armor with crimson stripes.
She stood relaxed, her youthful face serene, but in her hand she held the elongated hilt of a double-bladed lightsaber.
Inactive, for now.
And Boss would have sworn she wasn't there a few seconds ago.
He'd personally checked that spot!
A thought surfaced: the Sephi wasn't particularly fond of using a lightsaber.
But her black-and-red armor...
And the fire on her left hand left no doubt that everything could go down a terrible path in an instant.
"Nice to meet you, Master Meilis," Boss began the conversation. "Truly glad to see you again."
The Sephi raised her eyebrows in a silent question.
"We're Delta Squad, ma'am," he introduced them belatedly.
It wasn't like they'd worked together often enough for a Jedi to remember them for life.
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?"
"Pammant, ma'am," Boss clarified, noting out of the corner of his eye that his soldiers weren't making any moves. "The second Malevolence. We blew that scrapyard to pieces together."
But everyone was alert, their eyes and DC-17 muzzles fixed on the Jedi.
Well, this was certainly a fine setting for a "reunion" and a "friendly chat."
Master Jedi Aurelia Meilis.
The Sephi's expression didn't change a fraction.
"Let's say that's true," she said slowly. "And what of it? I've worked with and met many commandos. They usually tried to kill me. Why should I think any differently of you?"
"Our mission, ma'am, does not involve conflict with you," Boss revealed a sliver of the truth. "We were to deliver a meeting proposal from our command."
Naming names in this situation would have been incredibly foolish.
Especially Thrawn's name.
"The Empire has taken an interest in me for years," Meilis reminded him. "I see no point in meeting with scum."
"We don't work for the Empire, ma'am," THX-0333 joined the conversation. "We're the Fourth Special Assault Commando Squad of the Dominion. The Empire is our enemy."
"As if that interests me. I still haven't heard a reason why I shouldn't blow this place up along with you."
Boss decided lying or withholding information would be a bad idea now.
A bead of sweat ran down his forehead.
He lowered his blaster rifle, and the other soldiers did the same on his order.
"The Dominion is recruiting former Jedi for service. One of the Jedi supporters, Master Umakk, was sending out a summons…"
"I saw it," she said, wiggling her fingers as the flame on her hand took the form of a Mon Calamari. "I haven't expressed any desire to cooperate with anyone. I have my own interests. And the interests of my people. I doubt they align with the intentions of the Dominion's commander-in-chief."
"Master Windu doesn't think so," Scorch blurted out.
This time, undisguised surprise appeared on Aurelia's serene face.
"How interesting," she said. "Windu is alive?"
"And well, ma'am," Boss confirmed. "He spoke to me personally before we left. He said if you didn't believe us, we should tell you something to refresh your memory."
Steel glinted in her blue eyes.
"Did he, now?"
"Yes, ma'am. He also said: 'The Darkness did not retreat. The Shadows have always stood against the Darkness. It's time for the Shadows to return.'"
The Jedi didn't say a word, but the features of her pretty, almost adolescent-looking face seemed to sharpen.
"Well, well," she snorted. "Looks like the master of 'Vulnerable Points,' who missed the danger right under his nose, decided to hit a sore spot. But then again, as always, he's far too arrogant if he thinks old oaths mean anything to me."
"Does anyone understand what's going on?" Scorch asked quietly. "Sergeant, if you have anything else to tell her, could you do it in a way that doesn't make her pissed off? I'd like to keep living."
The Sephi glanced at the demolitions expert, then looked back at Boss.
Her gaze remained cold and intense, as if she were trying to look inside his skull.
Unpleasant feeling.
"I remember you guys. You must be the Chief," she pointed a finger of her free hand at Boss.
"And you're Stub, you're Fixer, and the last one is Sev," her slender finger with crimson nail polish first pointed at Scorch, then Fixer, and lastly THX-033.
Boss was momentarily taken aback.
They said Jedi had excellent memories, so what the Hutt was she butchering their names for?
Then it dawned on him.
Right, he wasn't an Alpha or a Null to be a genius.
Just a simple soldier.
Just a little smarter than a regular trooper.
Well, maybe more than "a little"…
"I'm Boss, ma'am," he said, then properly introduced the members of his old squad. "The fourth soldier is THX-0333, a sergeant who joined the squad after we lost Sev on Kashyyyk at the end of the Clone Wars. I hope we've passed the 'loyalty check'?"
The commando noticed how the woman's fingers tightened on the lightsaber hilt when he didn't immediately mention Sev's name, but relaxed when the sergeant explained the fate of their lost comrade.
But she looked at THX-0333 with suspicion.
"We trust him as we trust ourselves, ma'am," Boss clarified.
"Good for you," the Sephi said. "For me, trust holds much greater value."
Did she have to say that right here and now?!
"Ma'am," Scorch spoke up. "Do you still roast nerf meat using that recipe? With Corellian spices, soaked in blue milk…"
"Uh… Why?"
"Just asking. I'm really hungry."
The flame on Meilis's hand went out, and she covered a smile with her palm.
But a second later, when she landed in front of the clones in a single leap, the Sephi was all seriousness again.
"Well, I can see you really are who you claim to be," she said, looking at the clones once more.
"Is it hard for you to tell us apart?" THX-0333 asked in surprise.
"We are clones," Fixer reminded her.
"You might look alike," Meilis agreed, nodding towards the other sergeant. "Well, except for this one. But in the Force, each of you differs slightly from the others. Again, except for Thirty-Third. He stands out more against your general background."
"Show-off," Scorch joked, feigning offense.
"So, you're only here on the station to find me?" the Master Jedi clarified, not letting go of her lightsaber.
"No, ma'am. We completed our primary mission earlier," Boss said without going into detail.
Just because they shared a past didn't mean he could blurt out classified information.
"I understand," she nodded. "I have a mission too. Would you mind helping an old battle buddy?"
"I wish I were that 'old,'" Scorch grumbled.
"Oh, so besides jokes, you've learned to give compliments too," the Sephi smiled. "And your love for explosions hasn't faded, has it, Scorch?"
"Negative, ma'am," he replied. "I live in the hope that in my old age, when my joints are crippled by arthritis and I confuse an information port with a power socket, I'll die in the most beautiful explosion of my life, the biggest one I can possibly arrange."
"How touching," the Sephi said phlegmatically. "So, Boss, how about earning a little trust before your negotiations with your superiors and helping me blow up this base?"
"Blast!" the Delta leader cursed to himself. "This mission is definitely not going to be easy."
Then again, they were ordered to deliver information and Master Jedi Meilis.
Nobody said the fuel depot had to survive.
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