She entered this spacious hall only the second time in her life.
Perhaps even the last.
It depended solely on the mood of the master of this chamber.
This palace.
This planet.
For some reason, it seemed that her heels sounded muffled as she walked, as if she were not stepping on polished metal plates.
As if beneath her feet was a carpet, stylized to resemble reflective metal.
But the one who had inherited the name of her original knew that this was not the case at all.
Simply imagination was playing a cruel trick on her.
Approaching the massive chair in which a sentient, clad in a black mantle and examining a map of the galaxy, was seated, she silently sank onto one knee.
And bowed her head obediently, mentally explaining it as paying homage to her master.
She uttered no sound, knowing it was completely unnecessary to draw attention to herself.
The master of this palace, sitting before her, knew perfectly well that she had arrived.
But he had more important matters than spending time on her.
When the appropriate moment came, they would address her.
Because she did not belong to that cohort of sentients who had the right to interrupt the master of this palace from contemplation and reflection.
She did not think about anything, did not switch her attention to pondering any of her own affairs or problems.
Simply looked at the surface of the polished floor directly before her and waited for attention to be turned upon her.
How long she spent in the kneeling position, the clone of Ysanne Isard did not know.
She understood she would remain thus exactly as long as necessary, until she earned attention.
"You have worked well," after some time, a young and energetic voice sounded.
Quite unlike the one she remembered thanks to the memories of her predecessor.
The same strong, willful, commanding, intolerant of objections.
Just slightly younger.
"I thank you, Emperor," she continued to look at the floor, understanding that raising her gaze was not permitted.
The real Ysanne Isard might have been granted such an honor — to look into the ruler's eyes.
But not the clone.
The clone had not yet earned such permission.
"You are mistaken," declared the Emperor. "Look at me."
Ysanne raised her head, meeting the gaze of blazing orange irises dispersing the darkness beneath the hood.
"You have worked well," repeated Palpatine. "Hundreds of sycophants, cowards, pathetic fools, and simply enemies of my rule have been destroyed thanks to your labor."
Ysanne remained silent.
An inner voice made her understand that the Emperor had not finished his current speech.
Interrupting his words would be a display of her own outright stupidity, inadequacy.
Not to mention that it would offend the Emperor.
And she was by no means stupid and did not intend to spoil the Emperor's mood now.
"I never thought Isard could be so effective," continued the man, not addressing her, but as if voicing his thoughts aloud. "To think... Commanders of hundreds of ships, squadrons, fleets joined me not because I am their Emperor, but because they wanted to grab as many benefits from my resources as possible. Responded to my call because they intended to be close to my trough when my enemies rid themselves of me..."
Yes, it was good work.
For the benefit of her service.
She reviewed hundreds of thousands of personal files of personnel from hundreds of ships belonging to the Emperor's fleet.
Started with super star destroyers and ended with ordinary ones.
Every sailor and ensign, every lieutenant, executive officer, and ship commander — she studied them all.
Most of them — loyal sentients to the Empire.
Primarily — youth or junior officers.
Unfortunately — lacking the proper experience in warfare.
But at the same time — their loyalty to the Emperor — a key aspect in the work she conducted.
She helped cleanse the Imperial Starfleet of traitors and sycophants who came to Byss for spoils.
Studied files and intelligence data collected by Sate Pestage, acting under the guise of agent Blackhole.
Correlated them with facts.
And time after time sent to the Emperor's apparatus data on each identified internal enemy of the Empire.
Honestly, she thought that after the first dozen traitorous admirals she uncovered, who thought that arriving at Byss would allow them to avoid being exposed, Mas Amedda would not submit the remaining data received from her to the Emperor.
"You are mistaken," she did not see the Emperor's face, but felt he was smiling. "Amedda perfectly understood that he had a chance to rise, taking the place of Grand Vizier instead of Pestage, if he thoroughly tarnished his work with your help."
Isard frowned.
Mas Amedda used her data to use them against the Empire's cause?!
"I am surrounded by idiots," disappointment sounded in the Emperor's voice. "Sate Pestage thought I would forgive him for his connections with rebels and fleeing Coruscant if he presented me with as many troops and ships as possible. Without discerning whether they are worthy sentients or traitors who decided to temporarily change their rotten skins..."
The clone remained silent, understanding that questions were not being asked of her.
They were sharing reflections with her.
And that was worth a great deal.
"I note in you the same qualities that were in the Isard family, until they became close to power," continued the Emperor. "Drive, cunning, audacity, calculation... Cronal devised how to rid the galaxy of the rising 'Zann Consortium'. You creatively reworked his plan and extended it to all factions. Control not one force of the underworld, but all at once, force them to fight each other, nudging them towards it, not waiting for one side to mature to destroy the other..."
She remained silent again.
No one was asking her.
"This is good," uttered Palpatine. "Truly good work. I think you are right — Cronal got carried away with his own combinations and forgot why it all began. The embedded inquisitors will stir up this swamp, not allow them to gain sufficient strength that would pose a great threat to my fleet and dominion..."
The clone silently listened to the Emperor's words.
"You are worthy of being called Ysanne Isard," said the ruler of the Galactic Empire. His eyes flashed malevolently. "But, before you begin work, I want to ask you a question, Ysanne."
"I am at your complete disposal, Emperor," this time a response was expected from her.
And she could not disappoint the Emperor's expectations.
"My strategists, those of them whom you did not accuse of treason, recommend attacking the Dominion," the Emperor revealed. "While Imperial Space and the Alignment, as well as other withering fragments of my Empire, are advancing on the rebels, the Dominion is sitting aside. Pellaeon, though a fool, is accumulating forces. Why do you think they should not be destroyed now? Especially in light of what our agents discovered about Pellaeon's double game in transferring his ships to the disposal of the New Republic, which cost me Kaine and his fleet."
"Pellaeon fulfills the role assigned to him," calmly answered Isard. "My agents have already advised him how to use the vice admiral to weaken the Alliance. In the near future, Pellaeon will spend his forces in war against Mon Mothma and her henchmen, and also — bleed himself in battles with criminals. Who, according to Cronal's promises, should have already clashed in war with each other, but this has not yet happened. For reasons unknown to me. But, I think that you know what is unknown to me. And Cronal, in fact, is not playing his own game, but indeed has conceived something global," from Palpatine came a meaningful chuckle. "I assume that with the death of Ardus Kaine, Your Imperial Majesty has a need to absorb the Pentastar Alignment and fight the rebels calling themselves 'New Republic'. Rebels and criminals in the north and east of the galaxy are about to begin exterminating each other — the inquisitors will push them in the right direction. The Dominion will lose its most excellent commanders and they will have no slightest possibility to resist you. It will suffice to simply beckon with a finger, and all worlds of the Dominion will fall at your feet. Developed, intact, with developed infrastructure and concerned that no one and nothing can protect them against the armada you possess. As a result — the Dominion will eliminate crime, intervening at the right moment in their artificial feud. Simultaneously — eliminate the threat of a flank attack from the Alliance, forcing them to transition to defense and thereby allowing you to obtain the necessary time to complete cleansing your ranks, to take control of all remnants of the Empire in the galaxy at once."
"A deeply thought-out intrigue and manipulation of the opponent," from the Emperor's voice it became clear he was pleased. "Yes, you truly are better than the Iceheart. Not only an agent, but a strategist. This I like. From now on — you are a member of my inner circle. You will resolve routine matters that require your participation while I am busy conquering the young Skywalker. At present — continue cleansing the army and fleet of traitors. This displeases Executor Sedriss, as it postpones our operation 'Shadow Hand'... Do you have anything to object to this remark of the Executor?"
She did not even ponder the answer.
Because she had long ago calculated all risks.
"What is called Imperial Fragments, regardless of how exactly they name themselves, is a gathering of traitors," calmly she said. "That Cronal discovered the substitution of moffs and warlords with clones and reached the 'Zann Consortium' to take control of the process, still means nothing. Traitors are still in their places. And, moreover — some of them once entered contacts with Grand Admiral Thrawn, supplying him. Though officially they avoided this, as Grand Moff Ardus Kaine did?"
"Kaine was a traitor and he was lucky that he died," irritably uttered Palpatine. "But... Who are the other traitors? Baroness D'Asta?"
"My agents report at least two identified leaders of the Fragments, whose connection with the Dominion is difficult to deny," uttered Isard.
"And you have evidence?" Palpatine's voice sounded like an icy waterfall that drenched her from head to toe.
"Yes," simply she answered. "Therefore I believe that we should allow the traitors to perish in battle with the rebels from the New Republic, which is preparing to transition to a counteroffensive. Let them all be exterminated, but bring benefit on the battlefield."
"And at that — the rebels will reclaim part of the galaxy!" objected Palpatine, who was clearly beginning to lose patience. "It seems I erred, thinking you capable of strategic thinking! You propose leaving the Fragments without support so they perish in battle with the rebels?! This is folly!"
"Perhaps I am not as smart as I would like, Emperor," agreed Isard. "But I see, unlike Executor Sedriss, that the more the New Republic and Alliance fight the Imperial Fragments, the more they rearm and fill their armed forces with the newest weapon models. As my spies report, Fe'liia gave the order to build hundreds of the newest Republic-type star destroyers — the upcoming victory in the Humbarine sector and captured industry will help him do this by the end of the current year."
"And you propose retreating so they capture territories reclaimed by Kaine, and at that — build more ships?!" Palpatine flared up. "And by the time you finish cleansings in my Armed Forces, they will have hundreds of new star destroyers! And the abandoned territories will have to be reclaimed from an already more combat-ready opponent! Where is the plan for my triumph here?"
"In that, Your Imperial Majesty, that the democrats will build these ships only in one case," calmly uttered Isard. "If they cannot win while armed with old Mon Calamari star cruisers, then, out of fear of defeat, they will support Fe'liia's initiatives for modernization of armed forces and laying down new ships. If senators calm down and see that existing forces allow them to repel troops of the Alignment and Imperial Space to starting positions, then they will block this bill and, as always, embezzle most of the funds under plausible pretexts."
Palpatine leaned forward.
"And by the time my forces are cleansed of filth and represent a mighty fist, they will be celebrating victory over the traitors from the Fragments," triumphantly he uttered. "And in ranks will be war-torn, tired starships..."
"Which your fleet will easily destroy," confirmed Isard. "This is my plan. Destroy the rebels from the New Republic easily and even filigree, subjugate territories of the Pentastar Alignment, Imperial Space, simultaneously with burning out the contagion of traitors collaborating with the Dominion... And the entire galaxy will understand that their best option is to repent before you and surrender."
"It resembles a plan," with unexpected doubt uttered Palpatine. "But Mon Calamari and the Alliance will pose a problem."
"Exactly until you break Luke Skywalker," uttered Isard. "Their icon, their hero of the Rebellion, who will declare to the entire galaxy that he was mistaken, and strength is in the Empire... This will convince any doubting idiot even in the remotest corner of the galaxy. And whoever does not understand immediately — your fleet and army will visit them, forever eliminating the homeworld of the doubters."
"This plan will require a large number of ground forces," declared the Emperor. "Your cleansings rid me of traitors, but they were experienced commanders and warlords. Not to mention that among army units regular executions occur... What do you propose to replenish these multi-million losses from your work?"
"Cloning," answered Isard.
"Kamino is in the hands of that Dathomirian mongrel Silri," irritably uttered Palpatine. "To reach it, thousands of ships will have to be lost!"
"I know this, Your Imperial Majesty," confirmed her awareness the clone. "But I did not mean the Kaminoans."
"Who then?" frowned the ruler of the galaxy.
Isard looked at the galaxy map, unerringly found the appropriate point in the Deep Core and pointed at it with her finger.
"Planet Khomm. Every its inhabitant is a clone. And, as far as I know, precisely based on their equipment were developed the notorious Spaarti cloning cylinders."
"Hmm..." the Emperor clearly pondered this question. "Khommites... This is a strong enemy. They only pretend to be peaceful exotics, but, when something threatens them — become merciless. Moreover, as Sedriss reports, as soon as Khomm learned of the capture of the Galactic Core by the Empire, they hired an army of Ailonian Nova Guardsmen. It was assumed not to touch them — as losses would be too great."
"From my humble view — and obtaining cloning cylinders capable of creating copies of people on industrial scales — this is a worthy reward," expressed her opinion Ysanne. "Moreover, this campaign, in my opinion, will allow you to elevate the most competent among young commanders to replace executed admirals."
Palpatine chuckled softly.
It seems the Emperor is pleased with her work.
"Excellent," he uttered. "The best plan I myself could not develop. By my decision, 'Lusankia' is returned to you. It is fully crewed, selected specifically for your future and present work. Continue cleansings in the armed forces."
"With your permission I would like to turn my attention to scientists engaged in superweapon projects," proposed Isard. "In my view they are too long occupied solving a series of tasks and have already postponed deadlines repeatedly. From the planned quantity of super-dreadnought star ships of Eclipse and Sovereign projects, only the first ship from the paired series is built, and even that is in finishing. The second Eclipse is barely grown on the slipways... Sovereigns..."
"Softly investigate this matter," Palpatine's voice instantly turned icy. "Amedda decided from something that it was not worth informing me of these delays... Well, time to remind him where his place is."
Isard remained silent.
"From this day report to me personally," demanded the Emperor. "I want to know in what condition my armada is. And not in the rosy promises of Mas Amedda, but in real numbers. All who attempt to sabotage or slow projects — execute as a lesson to the rest."
"It will be done, Emperor," bowed Isard.
"And now — free," Palpatine waved his hand, as if sweeping trash from the armrest of his throne. "I have more important matters."
Ysanne rose to her feet and silently left the throne room.
Much work ahead.
The Empire demanded cleansing from all personnel interfering with the plan's realization.
***
Lumiya looked at the body of the man hanging before her in chains, covered with a crust of dried blood.
"Well," she uttered. "You, it turns out, know how to endure pain..."
Carnor Jax, raising his eyes, looked at his teacher with a murderous gaze...
And remained silent.
"You also know how to keep your pride in check," noted Lumiya in the tone of an experimenter observing the torments of a laboratory test animal. "To think — and I thought all previous training remained husk for you..."
Jax looked at her with a scorching gaze, but continued to maintain silence.
"Very good," declared Lumiya, casually patting the student on the cheek. "A little remains, and you will be ready. Or die, but definitely learn the lesson. And be more attentive to those you bring into my lair."
Turning her back to her captive, she calmly left the cell in which Jax had languished for the last weeks.
Disappointed that the student did not even attempt to strike in the back, using at least a minute of the teacher's weakness, she ascended the steps to a higher floor.
A short journey through corridors, and she was already in a spacious hall, where one sentient patiently awaited her.
A tall, imposing man who preferred to hide his appearance behind a shapeless cloak with a hood.
Bad taste, but what to do — allies are not chosen.
At least — potential ones.
Whether he would be a real ally, or occupy Jax's place in the torture chamber, would be decided by this long-delayed personal meeting.
Because she absolutely disliked one feature of this sentient — he was completely undetectable in the Force.
This unnerved, irritated, and worried.
But most of all disappointed that Carnor Jax brought him to her refuge, absolutely knowing nothing about this.
He succumbed to some blind pride and did not even resort to the Force to understand the intentions of the sentient whom he decided to drag across half the galaxy into her refuge.
This imposed certain difficulties.
Would have to abandon this base and seek a new one.
Because it was not in her plans to demonstrate her lair to someone completely unrelated.
Jax once again did everything not as he should have.
It seems instead of a student she faced another disappointment.
"I ask you to excuse me," she uttered in a mundane tone. "Small problems with pests who somehow cannot learn their place and do what they are told."
"Yes, pests, this is a great trouble," agreed the man. "My people have some experience in fighting large pests. If you wish, we gladly will help you..."
"I thank you for the concern," coldly answered Lumiya. "With my problems I will manage myself."
"Of course," the man courteously inclined his head. "I ask to excuse if my offer somehow offended you or hurt your feelings. Nothing like this I did not plan..."
"I willingly believe, Messenger," agreed Lumiya.
In service in Imperial Intelligence she learned, besides everything else, a simple truth.
The more courteous a sentient is with you, the more intricate his phrases, the deeper the pit into which he intends to push you.
"So," uttered the lady-Sith. "You wanted to meet with me. My student fulfilled your desire."
"For which I am infinitely grateful to him," smiled the negotiator. "Finally we found someone worthy to help him take control of the remnants of the Galactic Empire."
"Indeed," indifferently commented Lumiya on the words of others. "Interesting offer. But everything in order. Before we begin discussing details, I would like to know the following. When you say 'we found', I want to know who these 'we' are."
The messenger courteously bowed.
"Yes, of course. I ask to forgive me — I told everything to your student, but, apparently, he showed himself not from the best side, withholding this information from you," if the moment were appropriate, Lumiya would certainly clap her hands, noting the subtle art of contrasting teacher and student, which this sentient attempted to apply.
Introducing discord between allies...
A rather interesting representative she encountered.
"With this misunderstanding I will handle myself," clarified Lumiya. "Move to details."
"Yes, of course, how else could it be?" smiled the messenger. "When I say 'we', I mean the race to which I belong. We are peaceful travelers who by fate were exiled from our home. Now we live in darkness between stars and want only one thing."
"What?" asked Lumiya.
"That those who destroyed the Galactic Empire, this exemplar of order and stability, burn in righteous fire of purification, as well as other enemies of the Empire," in the negotiator's voice sounded expressive notes, but Lumiya perfectly discerned skillful falsehood.
In the end she herself repeatedly applied this technique to mislead an enemy with a tearful story.
"Commendable," she evaluated. "This truly is a worthy goal. But why did you decide that this interests me?"
"The ruler of my people came to the conclusion that from all living in the galaxy, only you are worthy of his attention and support," even somehow excessively modestly sounded.
Unbelievable.
"Flattering," absolutely without emotion and habitually lied she. "Well, let's sort it out. First I would like to know your name. And the name of your race of peaceful travelers."
If the negotiator caught sarcasm in her words (and it is difficult not to notice), he pretended as if everything is as it should be.
"I ask to forgive my lack of manners," once again he shuffled in cloying courtesy. "How could I overlook such a thing. My name is Nom Anor, and I represent the absolutely peaceful race of Yuuzhan Vong, who can help you become the first Empress in millennia of galaxy history..."