Ten years, six months, and twenty-three days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or the forty-fifth year, sixth month, and twenty-third day after the Great Resynchronization.
(One year, third month, and third day since the Arrival.)
He opened his eyes a second before Ordo's armored gauntlet slapped him on the shoulder.
Mereel Skirata, Null-7.
"Rise and shine, ARC Null-7," Null-11 winked at him, handing Mereel his beloved Z-6.
The Z-6 rotary blaster.
Mereel was crazy about that heavy assault weapon, but under other circumstances, he would have gone into action with a simple blaster rifle, which he handled just as well.
But this wasn't just a sortie behind enemy lines.
"I was having such a wonderful dream," he laid the weapon across his knees and stretched languidly.
"In a situation like this?" Ordo looked at him doubtfully, glancing at the other 'Nulls' who were doing final checks on their armor, weapons, and gear.
A habit Kal Skirata had drilled into them—nothing calms your nerves before a fight like routine preparation.
And the fight ahead was going to be serious.
"Yeah," Mereel nodded. "I dreamt about the time we first met Kal'buir."
A shadow crossed Ordo's face.
The other 'Nulls' also froze, hearing such a confession.
"Why are you remembering that right now?" Prudii asked, rechecking the number of power cells on his belt.
"I don't know myself," for some reason, Mereel felt no joy now. "Probably returning to Kamino brought it back..."
The 'Nulls' exchanged silent glances and continued their checks.
Mereel limited himself to his own weapon—everything else was in perfect order, he knew it even without checking.
But he couldn't get that dream out of his head...
The sickeningly familiar white and gray walls of the room, the doors of which slid open with a melodic chime.
Six 'Nulls' in identical dark-blue shirts and trousers, with curly hair on their dark faces.
Two stern, adult men in heavy-looking armor.
One wore blue-gray—that was Jango Fett, the donor from whose blood they had been created.
They were seeing the second one for the first time.
Gold-yellow armor of almost the same design as Jango's.
A short, graying crew cut.
A weathered, lined face.
No visible weapons.
And Oren Va, the Kaminoan bastard who was supposed to decide their fate after they'd been deemed defective.
The six 'Nulls' knew why they'd been brought straight here.
Jango Fett and this one in 'gold' would decide their fate.
The 'Nulls' had been created smarter and more talented than their brethren.
And so the puzzled look on the 'golden' one's face and the indifferent calm on Fett's gave all six boys the answer.
They were going to be killed here and now.
They had to act.
The Kaminoans had considered them normal only until they started training them in the program.
After gaining weapons skills and a basic knowledge base, all six 'Nulls' had understood how inefficient the Kaminoans' orders were.
And they had disobeyed stupid commands.
For that, they were slated for disposal.
They had divided their roles while the 'adults' were arguing with each other.
Oren Va was almost apologizing to Jango and the 'golden' one for intending to destroy the six 'Nulls.'
Mereel moved closer to the 'golden' one.
He showed the least threat in the children's perception.
On the contrary, he was trying to protect them.
But he had no say here—Jango Fett was the one who decided.
And that guy didn't waste words.
Mereel ingratiated himself with the one he would soon call Kal'buir, snatched the blaster from his boot, and, while continuing to distract attention, tossed it to Ordo.
And then everyone panicked.
The 'golden' one managed to argue for their survival against the other two.
Moreover, this adult clearly had some influence over Jango Fett, since he went along with the lie and assured the Kaminoans that the disobedient clones would be best used in reconnaissance.
An absolute lie.
Jango was trying to save them.
Clones he owed nothing to.
The 'Nulls' understood he was doing this to support the 'golden' one.
And the latter was the only one who saw them as children, not as a 'product' or 'defective goods.'
A vulnerability they had used as their last chance to survive.
Or, at least, to sell their lives dearly.
The first option worked.
Kal Skirata stood up for them, promising to give the Kaminoans a hell of a beating if any of the freaks touched the 'Null' boys.
So he became their father.
And their sergeant.
Papa Kal.
Sergeant Skirata.
And now, so many years later, they were returning to Kamino.
"Ten minutes until we exit hyperspace," Prudii reported, having looked into the cockpit of the upgraded freighter they were using for this mission.
It had taken a considerable chunk of their available budget to invest in this idea before setting out.
All they could do was pray the access codes would work.
And they had worked.
"We're expected, brothers," Ordo said seriously, as A'den helped him secure additional gear onto his armor.
"All the more fun," Kom'rk said, connecting the ultra-durable hoses for oxygen supply and carbon dioxide removal to his helmet. "We're making a grand entrance, right?"
"First, we announce ourselves spectacularly," Ordo warned. "We'll only have a few minutes before the enemy realizes the ships he's detected don't belong to the Dominion. Then they'll try to blow us to pieces before we want them to."
"You think that Sith doesn't know the tactical tricks from the Clone Wars?" Jaing asked, securing an extra set of thermal detonators to his hip.
"He's over four thousand years old," Mereel reminded, securing his own gear with Prudii's help. "Maybe he had more important things to do than study every battle in that time."
"Yeah," Jaing agreed, "but Ziilenlos can't not realize the Dominion won't fall for his trap that easily. He practically set Silri up for the kill. Thrawn doesn't seem to be rushing to attack Kamino, even though, logically, he should have gotten the same data we did."
"I agree," Mereel nodded. "Silri describes Ziilenlos as smart and cunning. How could he not understand that Thrawn didn't die? The Dominion's tactics remained just as effective as they were under him."
"Exactly," said A'den. "It stayed exactly the same. Exactly the same. How many tactical ambush options did Thrawn come up with when he wasn't hiding? Ten? Twenty? A hundred? Just the camouflaged asteroids on the Dominion's borders and for blockading Coruscant—those are non-standard tactics that no one has been able to overcome."
"Maybe Ziilenlos suspects, if he doesn't know, that Thrawn is alive," Kom'rk said. "But in fact, from what we've seen, the Dominion hasn't come up with anything new regarding enemy destruction. Just the Grand Admiral's old developments. To me, that's a telling confirmation that Thrawn is dead. For those who don't know. Would such an effective commander hide his talents and keep winning in the same old ways?"
"Let me just remind you," Prudii interjected, "that we don't know any more than anyone else about what Thrawn is doing. We've only seen a few of his operations, and yes, they're in the known galactic style. But no one's saying he hasn't cut loose fully in those sectors the 'HoloNet' doesn't reach. He himself said he's waging war against the 'Zann Consortium' and its satellites—the sectors in the galaxy's northeast."
"And let's not forget, we're genetically sharper than most humans and other races," Prudii reminded them. "A certain fact seems obvious to us—because we know for sure that Thrawn is alive. But put yourselves in the shoes of those he hasn't had a nice chat with?"
"Thanks, I'll pass on that gift," Mereel muttered. "I don't need nightmares at night on top of everything."
"Still—we work on the worst-case scenario," Ordo warned. "Ziilenlos might know Thrawn is alive. And the trap is designed for him."
"With that blue-skinned guy, I'm not even sure anymore that we're not part of his plan," Mereel muttered.
His brothers supported him with silent nods.
One way or another, none of them wanted to stand by and watch one of the most dangerous assets in the galaxy fall into the hands of a talented warlord.
Or to wander the galaxy for the rest of their days.
Kal Skirata had instilled in them that their home was Mandalore.
They had to do everything to get back there.
And if that meant sticking their heads into a rancor's mouth, they'd do it without hesitation.
"Remember—our job is to make as much noise as possible and distract the enemy from Rothana. The 'Omegas' and the others will get us a good ship, take our people home, and prepare the necessary evidence to clear our Clan before Mand'alor. We'll handle Kamino. Not another clone will be created here. But first—we stall for as long as possible. Until Niner sends the signal, we're underground. We operate wherever we can, keep in contact on the encrypted channel, and fray the enemy's nerves as much as possible. The main priority—don't get caught and don't die."
"You know," Prudii said unexpectedly, "I have a suspicion that if Thrawn hadn't stirred up this akk dog's nest, we wouldn't have had to get tangled up in all this."
"And you're against settling the score with the Kaminoans?" Jaing asked.
"Technically, they're victims in this situation," Mereel reminded, looking at the crate with the portable grenade launcher.
Would he have enough strength to carry it, or should he ditch some of the other gear?
"Do you believe that yourself?" Kom'rk grinned. "These guys were secretly creating clones for their own army, including 'Alpha'-type ARCs, to oppose Palpatine, but they couldn't handle the 'Zann Consortium'?"
"And they couldn't handle their clone uprising against Palpatine either," Prudii chuckled. "Am I the only one getting the shakes like I've never had in my life?"
"You're just getting old," Mereel clapped him on the shoulder. "It's not for nothing I put pills on your nightstand every morning. Biologically, we'd be eighty-four by now, you know..."
"Actually, we're fifty-five," Jaing corrected him. "We're in our prime!"
"Well, good," the commandos donned their helmets on command and looked at each other. "We'll do everything we can—and a little more, to destroy the enemy fleet, get our people back, and shut down this cloning nest once and for all."
"It wouldn't hurt to add a 'We'll come back in one piece' to that speech," Mereel added with a chuckle.
The others answered with chuckles but no comments.
The light in the transport's hold switched from red to green.
One minute left—and they'd be in orbit of Kamino.
"To your stations, brothers," Ordo commanded. "We need to put a little effort into making this pile of junk get where it needs to go."
Without further words, the commandos began to disperse throughout the ship and take the positions assigned to them by the plan.
The old freighter raced with all its might toward the planet, from which it would never escape.
* * *
The moment Aurelia Meilis crossed the threshold of the compartment for the second time, she declared from the doorway:
"I don't think you decided to take me home using an Executor-class Super Star Destroyer."
"By no means," I agreed, indicating the seat opposite me. "Have a seat, Master Jedi."
"I am no longer a Jedi," the Sephi stated, sitting down and folding her hands on the table. "To what do I owe the honor, Grand Admiral?"
"Do you think we have so many reasons for personal meetings?" I asked her.
The Sephi's blue eyes widened for a moment, but she almost immediately composed herself.
"So you agree?" she clarified.
"To your ultimatum?" I clarified. "No."
"Then... why am I here?"
"To keep me company," I explained, taking a cup from Colonel Tierce, who was sitting to my right, and offering it to the Jedi Shadow. "I decided to pass the time with a pleasant conversation until we reach our common and cherished goal. At least for the first part of the journey."
"A goal?" wrinkles appeared on the Sephi's pretty, deceptively childish face.
"Yes."
She took the cup.
"Our common one?"
"It's written on the screen," I confirmed. "Read it and you'll understand everything. If you have any questions, I'm ready to answer them."
Sephi, quite correctly assuming that she was about to face something she'd rather not get involved with, activated the screen.
Anyone else in her place would think it reckless to go alone, practically into the maw of the unknown.
And on top of that, being the commander of a rebel unit.
Incidentally, there's a substantial bounty on her head — fifty thousand credits.
Many Imperial remnants who caused problems even for the leadership of the New Republic were valued much less.
It didn't escape me that the woman's lips tightened slightly as she read what was written.
Then, fully composed, she set aside the personal device and looked me in the eye without fear.
"So, you've dug through my past," she said. "What of it? What part of this was supposed to discourage me so much that you could exploit my weakness?"
"Nothing," I admitted. "I'm merely demonstrating the capabilities of Dominion Intelligence. As you can see, unlike our Imperial colleagues, we managed to uncover your distant kinship with the house of the last king of Tustra, Alaric. After he was killed by Master Yoda — due to the machinations of his relative — all representatives of the main and collateral royal branches were purged…"
"They were all killed," Aurelia clarified.
"That's what I said. Only the organizer of King Alaric's death survived — a senator from the Sumitra Sector, who was also his nephew. The latter was arrested, and, what a coincidence — he died in an Imperial prison a few years after the end of the Clone Wars."
"That's well-known information," the Jedi Shadow replied calmly.
"Yes, but the question arises — why did you wait so long for your revenge?" I inquired.
She didn't deny it.
"It's not so easy to infiltrate Coruscant when the Jedi hunt is in full swing," the woman said. "It took time to prepare everything, calculate, reconnoiter, and carry out. The traitor deserved punishment."
"And also — the last male representative of the royal dynasty died," I continued. "Thus, the path to the throne opens for one who is of royal blood but is a woman. Under the conditions of Imperial occupation, the hardships that befell your people and the entire population of the sector due to King Alaric's rash action, only active steps for the sector's benefit and the normalization of the situation overall could give you the right not only to take the throne but also to hold it. The sector's population remembers that your king, Alaric, sided with the CIS because of, I quote: 'extreme levels of corruption.' Though corruption in the Senate and the Republic as a whole had always flourished. Your… king was simply trying to justify his nephew's actions, who sold himself out completely to Count Dooku."
Her lip twitched slightly.
"After ceasing to be a Jedi, you returned to the devastated worlds of the Sumitra Sector, decentralized and subject to Imperial Moffs. Who, with all their black souls, took revenge on Sumitra for its participation in anti-Republic activities on the side of the CIS. That's when you formed a unit to fight them…"
"I don't recall signing up for a lesson in recent history," the Sephi said.
"Sometimes I give them entirely for free," I had to explain my altruism. "Especially for those who were left without support from their comrades immediately after the Empire attacked your camp and killed Alpha-66. I kept wondering — why then didn't the commandos kill the fighters in your camp, if they were freely prowling through it?"
The Sephi's features sharpened.
"And I was also interested in the reason why you, the commander, leader of a partisan detachment, the face of the rebellion and resistance to the sector's occupation, are acting alone," I continued.
"I am a Jedi Shadow," she reminded. "I'm used to it."
Sounds unconvincing.
Understandable — she didn't expect to be exposed so quickly.
The bluff didn't work, but as a true Shadow, she would act until the very end.
Commendable.
And foolish.
"But they struck, didn't they?" I asked rhetorically, steering the conversation back to the tragedy of Alpha-66. "Why act from a position of strength and create heroes of the fight against the ruling regime, when just one piece of biography is enough to destroy the trust between you and your fighters? Remind me — who do the Sephi and other inhabitants of Sumitra blame for the idiocy that led first to secession from the Republic, then to joining the CIS, the subsequent occupation of the sector by the Republic, the merciless orbital bombardments of cities to suppress the rebellion against the Empire?"
"King Alaric," the Sephi replied dryly.
"And the entire royal dynasty," I continued, developing my thought more fully. "So it's no surprise that you concealed your past, claiming that you didn't remember anything because you were taken for Jedi training at an early age. But after the Order's collapse, its archives fell into the hands of the Empire, and from there into the Ubiqtorate. You were on the wanted list; logically, your personal file — the official one where you were a simple Jedi researcher — was in the hands of agents and Imperial intelligence leadership. While hunting for Alpha-66, they discovered you. You probably didn't even know about their first appearance in your camp — they identified you, realized that the psychological profile of a Jedi researcher didn't quite match a ruthless and uncompromising terrorist. The commandos didn't dare a direct assault — they acted smarter. I think Alpha-class clone commandos were at work. They're more resourceful. When they appeared the second time, they killed Alpha-66 and planted data from the Jedi archive among your subordinates. Where it was indicated that King Alaric had been friends with Grand Master Yoda for more than two hundred years. That he voluntarily gave his youngest daughter to the Temple, barely ten years old, but the Grand Master himself was impressed by the girl's reasonableness, the strength of the Force in her, and her ability to divide the world into 'good' and 'bad.' Plus, she didn't take her father's surname — meaning less attention would be drawn. But of all the children, you were the most suited for the position of future ruler. And Alaric thought that he shouldn't leave a small child, a contender for the throne, on Tustra, where passions ran high among royal relatives. He enlisted Yoda's help — no one would mess with the Jedi. Having gained wisdom in the Order, knowing the truth about herself, the girl could become the best ruler and elevate the sector, pulling it out of the decline it had fallen into under a permissive government made up of royal relatives."
"Jedi don't reveal their past to children…"
"Oh really?" I said in surprise. "Count Dooku would disagree with you. So would Quinlan Vos. Aayla Secura. I could continue this list indefinitely…"
No, I can't.
But my bluff is more successful than hers.
"Do you take pleasure in digging through other people's dirty laundry?" the Sephi clarified.
"Not at all," I replied. "I'm simply telling a story that Lieutenant Colonel Tierce, who is present here, became interested in. Isn't that right, Lieutenant Colonel?"
"The pure truth," he replied, not taking his eyes off the Sephi.
"Well, we already know the end of the story," I said. "The Sephi are a good-natured and peace-loving people, but not toward those who caused the deaths of millions and millions of their kin. The unit left you. You're on your own. No, you still have some support — not all of your people are so vengeful. They still associate you with your partisan unit, because they had the sense not to disclose what they learned. Otherwise, it would completely undermine faith in the Sephi in any of their own leaders. Your people are wonderful, Lady Meilis. And cruel, placing the blame of parents on their children."
"I doubt there is anyone of my species in your circle who would share our deep psychology with you," said Aurelia Meilis. "It's just a guess…" she stopped short, looking at the holographic projections that had appeared between us. "Sephi art? And what do you need it for?"
"It allowed me to analyze your people more deeply than you want the galaxy to know about you," I explained. "Otherwise the puzzle wouldn't come together — your current loneliness, the lack of support from the population for the last of the royal line, Windu's knowledge of you as a Jedi Shadow personally, while in his entire life he had never known any of them. All of this made you special in my eyes. And in two days, the mosaic became complete."
The Sephi was silent, looking into my eyes through white-blue holograms of magnificent floor vases, sculptures of exotic animals, and jewelry.
"If you wanted to humiliate me, you won't succeed," she said. "You can't do it more than my relatives did more than thirty years ago."
"I do not engage in humiliating my interlocutors, Lady Meilis," she even smirked, thinking it was a joke. "I am merely leading you to your own request. Why do you need a sector where you and your family are hated and anathematized for one wrong action? Dominion support would not mean freeing the sector from the clutches of corrupt officials or the predatory actions of the Empire, the Alliance, or the Republic. In fact, you intend to bring an army of conquerors and stand at its head. How long will your regime hold without constant support from our armed forces? Until you raise a new generation that can personally assess the changes you've made — if they are positive, despite the bloody takeover — you won't last."
"Why?" she repeated my own question. "You have such a good understanding of the abilities of the Force-sensitive, you speak of them so expertly… What do you know about Force Visions?"
"Images of possible futures," I described in my own words, without going into details that could give food for thought to this suspicious and sharp-witted individual.
"If simplified, then yes," she nodded. "But it's not just pictures of what will happen. It's also sensations of what is happening. The emotions of sentient beings. Their feelings. The most varied spectrum — the stronger the connection to the Force, the more vivid the visions. And, as you correctly noted, I have a strong connection to the Great Force."
"And what did you see in the Force?" I asked.
"Death," she answered shortly. "Death will come to the Sumitra Sector. Ruthless, merciless, unconditional. Suffering, destruction, devastated planets, lost to the Force… An enemy that I cannot detect in the Force at all will invade my home. And turn it into scorched wastelands, where the planets will become sets for a holofilm of horrors. But the worst part is that I cannot understand who is behind it."
"Palpatine?" I clarified.
"Nowhere near that level," the Sephi shook her head. "I can feel when the Dark Side influences something. It's impossible not to feel. But my visions are free of the Dark Side. Whoever attacks the Sumitra Sector, the Force cannot identify them… And worst of all — I see only thousands of survivors out of the billions inhabiting the sector in the future. And where the Force once was, it is as if it has been ripped out by the roots… The visions are unequivocal — after the arrival of this unknown enemy, only dead worlds will remain of the sector's thriving planets. Dead in every sense."
"The fragmented political power of the sector won't allow organized centralized resistance," I nodded. "And… what makes you think that I, with the ysalamiri in my hands that repel the Force, am not behind these devastations?"
"Your question already contains the answer," she explained. "Repulsion is not uprooting, not destroying the Force itself. Where the ysalamiri pass, there is no dead wasteland left, distorted, as if of artificial nature, alien to the worlds I know… Sorry if I disappointed you, but you, Grand Admiral, are clearly not the one who will bring oblivion to my home sector."
"Not at all disappointed by that fact," I admitted. "You are ready to kill thousands to come to power and unite the sector against the approaching threat… Don't you have a more peaceful plan?"
"Shadows are not taught diplomacy," Meilis reminded. "We are created to destroy resistance and corruption."
"And you see no other way out of the situation, do you?" I clarified.
"Not the slightest. The population won't support me, the governments won't submit, the remnants of scattered armies won't swear allegiance. The moment I try to act peacefully — then my past will surface. And hatred of the royal family will outweigh the obvious benefits."
"In that case, at the present moment, invading the sector and subjugating it is completely pointless," I said.
"That's roughly the same conclusion I reached after our previous conversation," the Sephi smirked. "Decided to show off your knowledge and better motivate your refusal?"
"Refusal?" I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "No, not at all. I am not inclined to refuse you in the subjugation of the Sumitra Sector. In my plans, this territory should become a buffer zone, allied with the Dominion, where the population from across the galaxy can purchase Dominion goods and sell us what is of interest to our state."
"And also serve as that bottleneck cork that cannot be bypassed to attack the Dominion?" the Sephi clarified, perfectly understanding the realities.
"Exactly," I agreed. "There is no place in my plans for territories that the Dominion only supports to avoid isolation from the entire galaxy. We need allies who will depend on us. You offer me your natural resources, which you don't have. You offer me an army, which you essentially don't have. I, in turn, give a real army, a fleet, and the ability to suppress discontent in the sector in the shortest possible time. We have experience in such operations. The Dominion will use Sumitra as a free economic zone, and also as a buffer to protect our southern borders. We will also support you until you can create your own elite, loyal to you."
"But you yourself said that invading the sector is pointless! You're contradicting yourself."
"Not at all. For now, we will only intensify our intelligence operations," I explained. "We will prepare the ground for a change of power. Then, when Sumitra faces the danger you speak of, the last descendant of King Alaric will come to the rescue. And with him — the Dominion forces, who cannot stand aside and watch the innocent be killed."
"But for greater effect, at best thousands of sentient beings will have to die," the Sephi's features hardened.
"You were ready to kill them to come to power," I reminded. "But that way you would become a bloody tyrant that everyone hates. But if there is a chance to leave the victims on someone else's hands — why not use that option? Then you will be a liberator, not a conqueror. Yes, not all of the sector's people, but a significant part, when choosing between total extermination and coming to the aid of Alaric's heir, will choose the latter option. Your people think in terms of the lesser evil."
"And you use our weaknesses against us," the former Jedi Master observed.
"We use," I corrected.
"Force Visions are a vague thing," the Sephi reminded. "This extermination could happen tomorrow, in a year, in the next century. It's quite possible that neither you nor I will live to see that moment. Especially you."
Tierce tensed up but did nothing.
"Explain your thought."
I'm sure this is not a hint that the path of a military commander means risking one's life on the battlefield surrounded by dangers, each of which could end a mortal journey.
Something else is here.
"Chiss don't live longer than humans," she said. "I would assume you have a confident ten years left, maybe fifteen, before the average lifespan of your species is exceeded and old-age changes begin, leading to natural death."
"I'm flattered that you are familiar with the biology of my species."
"Several Chiss served in the Jedi Order," Aurelia Meilis explained. "I was acquainted with them and sometimes noted what they said about their people and the Ascendancy."
Curious.
We'll file that thought away.
Now the bargaining I planned should begin.
I wonder what names I will hear?
And what will the updated terms of cooperation be?
"I am familiar with the name Nuru Kungurama," I said. "But I doubt a Jedi Master, a Jedi Shadow, communicated with a boy-padawan. So there was someone else of my race."
"There was," Meilis narrowed her eyes. "And perhaps I will be able to find her. If you don't put off your brilliant plan indefinitely. The galaxy is full of threats that could cause trouble for Sumitra. So much so that Dominion intervention would be required."
"You're suggesting simulating a serious threat to your sector so that the announced scenario is implemented ahead of time?" I clarified. "Thereby you want to do everything possible so that Sumitra is ready for an external invasion and your vision doesn't come true."
"It's a pleasure doing business with you, Grand Admiral," the Sephi smiled warmly. "You understand me."
But I don't like that this is already the second former Jedi who understands me and can catch my thoughts.
Either I've become predictable, or the 'characters' in my story are getting more and more perceptive.
That's both good and bad at the same time.
"I can arrange it," her eyes widened, and a smile appeared on her lips. "Especially since Emperor Palpatine and his pack will destroy the disobedient anyway. I will do everything in my power to ensure as few civilians suffer as possible."
"And in return, you want to get from me the coordinates of a secret Imperial prison with clone commandos lying in stasis, waiting for someone who could free them?" Meilis clarified.
Now it was my turn to please the interlocutor with a slight smile.
Two days is a very long time to remember such details, but one should make allowances for the fact that this was information from the depths of the mind, containing flashes of memory that weren't important even when I was fascinated by this universe.
And yet, maybe it's worth asking specialized professionals to share their knowledge in that part which could also be useful to me, a non-Force-sensitive?
Pity, of course, if this fact is a symptom of senile dementia in Chiss physiology.
But even that fact can be overcome.
At least I hope so.
"We are already heading for Egon-IX," I revealed.
For a moment, confusion appeared on the Jedi Shadow's face.
"Were you able to recover the deleted data?" she asked.
"No," I answered truthfully. "The Dominion simply has excellent analysts and very detailed data on the Ashen Worlds. Finding traces of an old Republic prison in that sector isn't the biggest problem — you just need to know where to look."
"So," the Sephi licked her lips. "I have no trump cards to be an equal partner with you…"
"On the contrary," I assured. "I have many enemies strong in the Dark Side. Sith, their followers…"
"Fallen Jedi," the Jedi Shadow prompted.
"And not only fallen ones," I continued her thought. "The Dominion has the Jensaarai Order, whose training is built on a simplified version of Jedi Shadow training. And there are analogs of what you and your acquaintances used to be. Not to mention that we are interested in finding both Sith and Jedi artifacts to make our Order stronger than those reincarnations of Sith and Jedi that already exist in the galaxy. I think you wouldn't mind serving me for a while and helping in these endeavors, to earn a reputation as an ally to whom the reins of an entire sector could be entrusted."
"Entrust and not fear the fact that he will betray," Meilis smiled tightly.
"The most terrible rumors circulate about Jedi Shadows," I confirmed. "For example, those where you betray loved ones to destroy the Dark Side of the Force or those in whom it was noticed."
The Sephi's face became an impenetrable mask.
"How good that I am no longer a Jedi, isn't it?" she smiled tightly, emphasizing the middle part of her sentence.
"I would even say it's excellent," I nodded in agreement, and finally dismissed the holograms of Sephi art objects. "And since we've agreed, while Lieutenant Colonel Tierce gives you the documents to sign, which already outline the stated terms of cooperation and mutual obligations, won't you share the rest of the information? My assault units will be interested to know in advance what we will face by the end of this day."
The Sephi bit her lower lip and broke into a smile of capitulation.
"You even intended to prepare documents in such a short time," she shook her head. "Truly — having you as an enemy is signing your own death sentence."
"Prepare?" I said in surprise. "No, not at all. All the documents for our agreement are on your datapad. The second file after your biography, Lady Meilis."
Aurelia passed her palm over her face.
"Is there anything you haven't foreseen, Grand Admiral?"
"Of course," I agreed. "Do you need a break before we move on to planning the assault on Egon-IX? Our chef simply can't decide whether you'll choose fish or fowl for lunch."
For a moment, it seemed to me that she would have a fit of hysterics.
Not about fish, not about fowl.
About the Jedi Shadow.
She laughed too much like a villain, leaning back in her chair.
* * *
The chirp of the holocommunicator made Han tense up, but only until the nails of his wife, whose head was currently resting on his chest, dug into that very part of his body.
"Don't," Leia whispered quietly. "You're on leave."
"Actually, we're at war, and this is the commander's frequency," the former smuggler reminded.
"Still — you've been suspended," the former Alderaanian princess reminded.
It's better not to argue with a spouse when she's from a family where even a sneeze could result in a fountain of superpowers and a dying star.
Doubly so when the spouse is studying her brother's recordings and preparing to become a Jedi.
And the path from her hand to your heart is only separated by a not-so-muscular chest.
"I have to," Han admitted.
Leia giggled.
Just like a girl.
"If someone on Yavin had told me that you would be the one reminding me of my duty to democracy, I would have laughed in their face," she confessed.
"Me too," Solo replied seriously. "Sweetheart. Bel Iblis is my commander. And like any Corellian, he's not known for patience."
The last words had been spoken to the back of his wife's head, which had relocated from his chest to the neighboring pillow.
"Do what you think is best," she said quietly, her nose pointed at the bedside table.
Right.
One phrase, and yet how many consequences it could hide.
Mostly negative ones.
After all, everyone knows: if a girl tells you "Do what you think is best," DON'T DO IT!!!
Seriously, man, don't, it'll only get worse!
But with his general's rank bars, Han Solo simply couldn't do otherwise. The blood stripes on his trousers would have blushed with shame at such behavior from a brave soldier.
Reaching for the communication device, Han activated it.
As expected, a miniature figure of a displeased Garm Bel Iblis appeared.
"Han, your leave is canceled," he said.
"Already figured that out," Han grumbled. "Reason?"
"We have information that the Dominion intends to seize a critical strategic resource that will turn the tide of the entire war."
"I take it not in our favor?" Han clarified, feeling his mood plummet faster than Alderaan.
"Exactly, Han," Bel Iblis nodded. "We've already dispatched ships — scraped together everything we could from the surrounding area. You'll lead them..."
"Couldn't it be someone else?" Han grimaced. "The combination 'Solo versus the Dominion' usually means heavy losses on our side. I don't want to be spat on in Congress again."
"We don't have any free commanders!" Bel Iblis snapped. "I'm on Lantilles myself and about to move against Moff Getelles, who's received reinforcements from Coruscant. Admiral Arkh is busy stabilizing the borders after losing our positions in the Nilgaard sector and won't make it in time. All hope is on you, son!"
"Words like that are when everything goes straight to hell," Han grimaced, but he was already out from under the covers, pulling on his pants. "Can you at least tell me what the target is and why the urgency?"
"All the data has been verified and re-verified by our intelligence. The source is trustworthy. And what's more, you have a personal stake in giving it your all to win this fight."
An involuntary reaction nearly caused an injury — the zipper of his uniform trousers came way too close...
"Tell me more about that!" he demanded.
Even Leia turned her face toward the projector, intrigued by Bel Iblis's words.
"The future of the free galaxy is at stake, Han," the Supreme Commander of the Alliance warned. "All available reserves have been gathered under your command. I've pulled some units from secondary fronts, so..."
"General," Han addressed his commander in an icy tone, miraculously getting his foot into his boot on the first try. "Who's the source?"
Bel Iblis licked his lips.
"Galen."
Han hadn't practiced Huttese in a long time, but even Leia gave him a thumbs-up in approval.
"The little bastard made contact?" Han forced out, buttoning his shirt through every other buttonhole.
"Han, he regrets what he did," Bel Iblis cautioned. "The Dominion manipulated him..."
"Oh, come on," Leia scoffed. "The whole Dominion? Not Thrawn's ghost, not even Pellaeon?"
"So Leia's with you?" Bel Iblis clarified.
"I didn't go off to relax with Zeltron babes, I went to my family!?" Solo retorted with justified surprise. "Who else should be with me? Who do you take me for, General?"
"Son, we're all on edge here," Iblis explained. "The information Galen gave us... Mon Mothma has taken to bed with a heart attack. Madine is tearing up the ground and incompetent staff into little pieces. If Congress finds out we did nothing because we trusted our prejudices, then..."
"Get to the point, General," Leia said coldly, wrapping herself in a robe and sitting down by the holocommunicator. "What's going on!?"
"Good to see you, Leia," Bel Iblis gave a weak smile. "What's going on is exactly what your husband said in Huttese."
"That's a very imprecise description of any situation," Solo remarked, tucking his shirt into his pants. "Can we have more specifics?"
"Kamino, son. The planet is under Dominion control."
Han couldn't tell what made the sound — his dropped jaw, Leia's bedside table flying into the wall, or interference on the comm line.
"Looks like our relay is acting up," Han said, hoping he'd misheard.
Hoping very hard.
"I wish that were the case too, Han," Bel Iblis admitted. "But Galen is absolutely certain the Dominion wanted to capture him to clone him and create an army of Force-sensitives. Maybe Thrawn didn't capture those ships at Sluis Van for nothing — he was waiting for the clones on Kamino to mature. And then..."
"The Second Clone War," Leia shuddered. "If the Dominion gets even one clone like Galen..."
"That's not all, Leia," Garm added quietly. "Galen already tried to break through Kamino's defenses but couldn't. However, he's picking up strong disturbances in the Force coming from there. And he has a theory that..."
"Luke might be there," Leia swallowed. "That's why we couldn't find him. After Thrawn's death, they didn't let him escape! They took him to Kamino and decided to clone him!"
"If that's the case, why do they need Galen?" Han didn't understand. "If Vader could make Marek's clones, the technology exists..."
"Almost all the clones were unstable except for Galen," Leia explained, familiar with the situation. "Maybe Luke wasn't a successful project for them, and they needed a clone that was already stable."
"So that's why they were hunting Juno," Han realized. "To lure Marek out. Then they drove him crazy using his ship as bait."
"They lured him out from under the Alliance's control," Leia rustled as she dressed. "We're being led by the nose again!"
"Something bothers me," Han shook his head. "Something feels... off. Like there's a piece missing to make it all fit. Or maybe more than one link is missing from this chain... Who verified Galen's information?"
"General Madine," Bel Iblis answered. "Honestly... Galen made contact a long time ago — over two weeks now."
"And you kept quiet?"
"We were verifying! We used our agents, spy satellites to see if there was a trail or if it was another trap. But there is a trail. Huge numbers of enemy caravans are passing through Trogan and Columex. Coming from the southeastern part of the galaxy. Passenger ships, freighters. They only stop at Dominion planets. They don't unload. They're guarded by stormtroopers..."
"Trogan and Columex could be transit planets for transporting clones," Leia gasped, now practically dressed in her legendary white suit.
With the lightsaber Luke had built for her on her belt, next to the blaster Han had given her.
"If that's the case, we're too late," Han shook his head. "They're not running empty ships, are they? So they're either moving clones off Kamino or moving equipment to a safer location."
"As soon as Admiral Arkh is free, he'll strike the caravans, and we'll know more," Bel Iblis reported. "But Kamino needs to be neutralized now. It's not easy to move millions of clones on medium freighters. Especially if they're moving incubators or other equipment, having figured out our attack. The picture is coming together — for the first time in months."
"For you, maybe," Han said skeptically. "Me, I'm... doubtful. Why didn't Galen come to me or Leia?"
"Maybe because he didn't know where you were?" Bel Iblis suggested. "Leia dropped off the grid entirely, you were on secret missions with Chewbacca, you shut down your old comms... He contacted Madine. Though he claims he tried to reach Leia through the Force."
Han glanced at his wife.
"Now I understand why I felt so awful recently," she winced. "It was like I was being crushed by the Force..."
"I think we're rushing," Han said.
"You're not the only one, dear," Leia agreed with him. "But if Luke really is their prisoner, then..."
"We'll save him," Solo assured her.
They always came to each other's rescue.
Too much bound them together.
And if they'd previously had no clue where Luke Skywalker could be, now at least there was hope...
Though it rested on Galen not trying to deceive them.
"Before we fly into the sarlacc's mouth, I want to meet this little bastard," Han declared. "And question him myself. Him and Madine. I don't like that they got chummy so fast. And no one except Leia can even roughly tell if this clone is lying or not."
Bel Iblis nodded in agreement.
"I knew you'd say that," he said. "I don't want to fly straight into a trap either. Even when the stakes are this high. At the rendezvous point when you arrive, Galen and Madine will be waiting for you, along with every Jedi we've managed to gather."
"Jedi!?" the Solos exclaimed in unison.
"Well, yes," Bel Iblis replied, slightly surprised. "You didn't think our agents hadn't found and recruited anyone from among those who survived Order 66!?"
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