The astromech arrived about twenty minutes later.
In that time, I managed to learn a little more about what I'd inherited.
As Vitiate said, there would be no problems with financing at all.
The Republic credit, or datary, was a currency so ancient that it was no wonder Valkorion had managed to stash away a few hoards. By forcing the Republic to pay tribute after the First Galactic War, the Emperor siphoned enormous sums out of the Empire's circulation. Part went to developing Zakuul; another part went into the Emperor's personal accounts. Those accounts funded secret laboratories and other projects.
And when Zakuul took the Sith Empire and the Republic by the throat, credits flowed like a river. After Valkorion's overthrow, Arcann and Vaylin preferred to take tribute from conquered worlds in materials and precious objects. According to the Nathema zealots' reports, even from that form of taxation they still managed to saw off very decent chunks and send them into the vaults.
On this station, the Emperor kept only money. All jewels, noble minerals, metals, and works of art he ordered his obedient servants to hide on a planet where even life had been twisted.
Nathema. A secret research center and the Emperor's greatest treasury. It was there that billions of credits and thousands of tons of treasures vanished without a trace. A research facility had been built there, where the Emperor subjugated Vaylin's mind. There, too, he kept his most dangerous secrets.
The toad inside me was already mentally setting a course for Nathema. But with an iron grip of will I strangled greed at the root.
This station alone held hundreds of accounts in various untraceable assets within its electronic banks. Mentally, I applauded Valkorion.
No, he didn't stash credits like an owl in nameless accounts at unknown banks. He invested part of the money (a part—still sizable—sat on hundreds of bearer credit chips in the vault) into buying shares.
Rendili StarDrive. Kuat Drive Yards and their subsidiary Rothana Heavy Engineering. Corellian Engineering Corporation… and a dozen smaller companies. Valkorion's agents bought tenths of a percent in those companies. No, they didn't climb into boards of directors. They didn't seek ways to influence the corporations. Valkorion's agents simply bought shares and secured a percentage of profits from each company. Shareholders too small to draw attention during any redistribution of power. But over four thousand years…
One by one, I unfroze accounts at each company using anonymous access…
A couple of minutes later, it became hard to breathe.
If corporate laws and rules had allowed withdrawing passive income in full, I could have bought myself a couple of sectors without much trouble. With all their populations. And I'd still have change.
When Valkorion's agents purchased shares, always under one percent, those shareholders had no voting rights and couldn't dictate policy to corporate leadership. They merely received income from owning shares. At the same time, profits, according to the volume of held shares, were distributed proportionally, transferred into so-called "anonymous client accounts." A client could, at any time, in any place, absolutely confidentially, receive their profit. Very convenient.
But after Ruusan, when military contract income dropped, Kuat—and then the others—imposed a series of restrictions on "anonymous accounts." For various reasons, corporations banned withdrawing the full sum. And on top of that, they reserved the right to use money from accounts that had gone unused for a long time. Like Valkorion's accounts.
Then some squabbling began in the Senate, and the corporations were almost forced to offer clients preferences for using funds from "anonymous accounts."
That was how Valkorion became the owner of 0.40% of Rothana Heavy Engineering. Because the Kuat Drive Yards expedition and the development of that world had been financed precisely by money from his "anonymous account" at Kuat.
And that opened enormous prospects.
Without being able to withdraw funds from the corporations' circulation, it was still possible—just as anonymously—to place orders with those corporations.
Smiling broadly, I moved on to studying the fleet I'd inherited, forming my plan in the background of my mind.
Under my command were ten Harrowers. Every one of them faster than any ship in either the Republic or the CIS. Cloaking was an enormous advantage for moving into position covertly. However, as it turned out, the ships had no device coordinating their actions when the field was active. In plain words, the ships could not see each other, and colliding with one another under cloak was easy. All these years, the only thing preventing collisions had been a massive sensor network spread around the station. Ships and station, comparing coordinates via the sensors, maintained spacing. The "quietly fly in, bomb, and fly out" option didn't work. Besides, the cloaking lost its effectiveness when firing from under it.
I immediately remembered Palpatine's cloaking technology that Thrawn used to conquer planets. Before taking a world, he would send cloaked warships into orbit, and when the planetary shield activated, those ships remained inside the protected zone. Then, with his main forces, he would bombard the planet. The shields, of course, held the bombardment, but with the help of a Force adept Thrawn synchronized hits on the shield with shots from the cloaked ships. The latter fired without breaking their cloak. And the world's population got the sense that the Imperial had learned to punch through planetary shields.
The flagship dreadnought, which with my light hand received the name Retvizan—after a battleship of the Russian Empire—had the superweapon Vitiate had mentioned. The Requiem: a massive laser cannon, a budget Death Star. It might not destroy a planet, but it would wipe an entire squadron in one go.
Another major upgrade was full automation. Valkorion's scientists, using the Slave Circuit program as a base—the one used on the Eternal Fleet—installed an analogous system on the Harrowers. Now the entire squadron obeyed either commands from the station's throne or its analog aboard the flagship dreadnought.
No crew.
The commander's will was carried out by the automation—and the "owner" controlled it. The only contingent aboard consisted of skytroopers, who in critical moments performed crew functions. But the skytroopers' primary task was planetary landings, boarding actions, and counterboarding. No possible human errors, disobedience, or anything of the kind. Only flawless adherence to the embedded program.
Well then. Very… clever.
With interest, I opened the file that concerned notes on the Slave Circuit program. Interestingly, it was tagged as connected to Rendili StarDrive.
Diving into it, I felt that conquering the galaxy was getting simpler and simpler.
The Katana Fleet. Created by Rendili StarDrive for the Republic as the foundation of the reborn Republic Navy, two hundred ships were equipped with the Slave Circuit system, kindly provided to Rendili engineers by Valkorion's servant. The intrigued Rendilians suspected no catch, and all two hundred vessels received Valkorion's Trojan horse.
It was his servants who infected the crews with the hive virus that drove people mad. Under that pretext, the entire fleet departed to "random coordinates." Led by the flagship Katana, in whose captain's chair sat the Emperor's agent, the fleet erased every possible trace and arrived at the appointed place.
Whose coordinates, naturally, were present at the end of the agent's report. And the agent's name—Hart—appeared in many reports from the last thousand years…
Something familiar stirred at the edge of memory—something connected to the first Sith—but no matter how I tried, I couldn't recall it.
So I continued contemplating my newfound wealth.
The station archives held countless schematics of the Sith Empire's military hardware, the Eternal Empire of Zakuul, even the Old Republic. Dreadnoughts and cruisers, battleships and corvettes, walkers and artillery installations. No wonder the Empire tore the Republic apart—the Imperials knew everything about their enemy, down to the alloys in Republic commando armor.
In one separate section I found records on the Force—abilities, rituals, and techniques, only a small portion of which were familiar to me.
In another section I ran into descriptions of all known hyperlanes.
In a third, information on crystals and lightsabers…
As often happens with me, scattered pieces on the fringes of my mind snapped into a single picture and sank into my perception.
"R3," I addressed the astromech. "We can access the Holonet from here, right?"
The droid beeped affirmatively.
"Excellent," I smiled. "Look up information on the Jedi Order selling old military hardware…"
***
Two hours later, after reducing my cash reserves by three hundred million credits, I bought from the Order, through a personal manager at Rendili StarDrive, twenty-seven Hammerhead cruisers, thirty-two Thranta corvettes, and a bit more than three hundred Aurek fighters.
"Rendili StarDrive is delighted that its clients remain faithful to the choice of their ancestors," my personal manager—a Mirialan girl—chattered. "Ferry crews have already been dispatched to Coruscant to transport the ships to Rendili."
"Wonderful," I said over the voice channel. "Now I would like you to record my requirements for the modernization…"
The girl smiled charmingly, and the tattoos on her face climbed toward her eyes. No matter how hard she tried to act light and casual, I could tell she was collected and somewhat nervous. After all, it wasn't every day one of the oldest clients—more precisely, I presented myself as a descendant of a client—made contact.
The decision to buy ships from the Order came the moment I realized I had sufficient funds. Unfortunately, nearly twenty major ships had drifted off somewhere toward the Outer Rim.
Still, what remained was more than enough for me to form two or three strike fleets.
Rendili StarDrive took up the proposed order with great enthusiasm. For ferry crews alone they gouged more than ten million from me. Another ten million went to developing the modernization project. New power and drive systems, armaments, electronics, shields, control and navigation systems…
The Rendilians asked for a week to prepare a precise rebuild plan for the Hammerheads and the Thrantas. In that time, engineers would inspect my ships and draft estimates. That approach suited me, given that modernization funds flowed from my "anonymous account" at Rendili.
Unlike the Harrowers and the Katana Fleet, I didn't plan to outfit the former Jedi Order ships with the Slave Circuit. Those ships were to become a fighting force meant for the war against the CIS. Like in the Republic Navy, they would be crewed by clones. For now, to be honest, I had only a weak idea of how the Order and the Senate would allow me to keep forces capable of giving the CIS fleet a bloody nose, but that was a secondary issue.
In the end, I could always hire a mercenary army and replace clones with them.
Half-listening to the manager, catching only that after installing this or that system my ships would be faster, stronger, more powerful, I approved the use of another three hundred million from my account with the company.
That concluded the first stage of assembling the fleet of my Empire.
Leaving R3 in the throne room, I accepted the Emperor's offer and headed for the trophy storage.
On the way, I could only guess what trophies the Emperor kept on the station.
Obviously, they weren't animal parts taken on the Emperor's Friday hunting trips with the Dark Council between sauna sessions and shashlik with whores.
Valkorion had long since lost his humanity, sacrificing it for the sake of the Force and the galaxy. Palpatine, for all that, still had mistresses and didn't mind "sticking the pig." Back on Zakuul, Valkorion managed to seduce the captain of his guard into productive sex twice, and that's where Arcann, Thexan, and Vaylin came from. But I'd never heard that, as Vitiate, he'd been into women.
That was why I was stunned when I saw a female figure kneeling on one knee before the Emperor's ghost the moment the doors to the trophy hall parted. Dozens of meters separated me from them—the ghost and the girl were in the center of a spacious room filled with two rows of gray-silver carbon-frozen slabs holding beings.
Around the perimeter of the rectangular storage area stood a dozen massive installations in which I easily recognized stasis capsules. From one like that, in the game, my character and his strike team extracted Revan at the Maelstrom Prison. One capsule was empty. Obviously, it had held the one now kneeling before the Emperor.
Dressed in a blue-gray dress that hugged a thin waist and somewhat broad shoulders, the girl wore dark red hair with a copper sheen to her shoulders, with a ridiculous ponytail at the back of her head. She had her back to me, clearly facing the Emperor.
"And here is the Jedi," Darth Malgus emerged from behind the nearest carbonite slab—practically soundless despite his size—wrapped in a black cloak with a hood, his eyes burning with molten-gold fury of the dark side, and with the characteristic whistle of a respirator feeding air into his damaged larynx.
In the same second, my lightsaber snapped into my hand. The red and yellow blades ignited at once.
"I have waited thousands of years, hoping to taste the sweetness of killing a Jedi," Malgus rumbled, gripping the hilt of his massive blade with both hands.
"You'll wait a little longer," I answered simply.
I caught the Sith's lightning, thrown with his right hand, on my blade, activated in time. Electric discharges danced along the energy arc. With a small flick of my wrist, I let the lightning run into the grounded floor.
Distracted by dealing with the lightning, I barely managed to bring my blade up. Otherwise, Malgus's crushing strike threatened to cleave me in two. As they say—from shoulder to a—
Holding the blade with both hands, I could barely withstand Malgus's monstrous strength. Seeing how hard I struggled to resist him, the Sith slammed his heavy boot into my chest with relish.
The shield field and the fabric armor's shock absorption softened the blow, but I still flew back toward the entrance, fighting to pull in the air knocked out of my lungs.
Meanwhile, like a machine of death, Malgus continued his advance. His face—laced with dark veins, eyes blazing with molten gold—glared at me with hatred. And Malgus, as an extension of that hatred, came at me fast and deadly, like a vonkstr.
With each step, he rained down a hail of heavy strikes, forcing me into a tight defense. No chance to go on the offensive. And, to be honest, I wasn't even thinking about attacking. I just needed to withstand his pressure, understand his attack style.
And, strangely enough, it was working out for me.
The fight wasn't like the stiff swordplay I'd demonstrated on Yavin 4. Not everything was that bad.
My sequences and combinations grew softer, more precise, more elegant. My Niman successfully countered Malgus's Shien, which I could not have expected at the start of our clash. Malgus's sweeping, fast, monstrously powerful blows were parried by me with enviable regularity.
Obviously, absorbing Exar Kun's spirit was making itself known. Which could only please me. Turns out I hadn't lain half-dead in the Great Audience Chamber for a week for nothing.
And still, about five minutes into the duel I began to understand that I was simply getting physically tired. We circled through the storage like lethally dangerous dancers, showering each other with strikes, with dizzying acrobatics avoiding each other's blades…
Malgus, like a terminator, unleashed all the dark side's fury upon me. As if in a trance, he ground me down relentlessly, shifting from quick-fight tactics to a methodical siege. I couldn't help but agree—on his end, it was the correct strategy.
Competing physically with a two-meter giant, whose ears were made of muscle and trained for killing, was out of the question.
Constantly moving through the storage as we fought, I didn't even notice when I'd crossed it and ended up at the far end.
And though Niman—the expanded knowledge of which I'd inherited from the now-dead Kun—easily parried the ancient Sith warrior's attacks, the weak link in this fight was still me.
Shifting from pure fencing into saber combat accompanied by Force techniques, I tore one of the carbonite slabs from its plinth and hurled it at the Sith. Malgus didn't even twitch, slicing the slab in half and then flinging the pieces aside with the Force.
"Enough!" the Emperor's ghost boomed through the storage.
Malgus, as if someone had turned off a faucet, instantly lost the deadly aura of the Force around him, and he hung his deactivated blade on his belt.
"As you wish, Master," the giant bowed briefly to Vitiate, frozen a couple of meters away.
The Emperor assessed me. Still holding my ignited lightsaber, I could barely breathe after the clash with Malgus.
"I see Exar Kun's knowledge benefited you," he noted. "Few can boast that they lasted against Lord Malgus for more than a few minutes. You managed to surprise me."
"Good to hear," I said, my voice still breaking from lack of oxygen. Seeing no one was about to attack again, I deactivated the blade and returned it to my belt.
"Would someone explain what's happening?" I asked.
With a smirk, Valkorion gestured for me to follow him.
***
"The station's self-destruction didn't kill him?" Walking to the ghost's right, I asked, nodding toward the silent statue of a Sith warrior following us.
"After the fall into the shaft, Malgus was found by my guards," the Emperor explained as he marched toward the storage's central section. "They froze him in carbonite and brought him to me on Zakuul. I thawed him and placed him in stasis, and kept him there until Darth Acina went to war with the Republic after the Eternal Fleet's destruction."
I glanced at Malgus. The giant didn't even twitch in my direction.
"My servants arranged for him to end up with Acina, who decided to free her former lover and use him against the Republic," Vitiate continued. "She did not know that over all those years I broke Malgus's will and made him my servant." The Emperor met my eyes. "And now he will serve you."
"Me?" I actually stopped, stunned.
Valkorion slowed unhurriedly, clasped his hands behind his back, and said, "You have proven your usefulness in our cause, apprentice. My expectations were met—and more. You are to build your Empire," he reminded me. "And that is impossible without an experienced, ruthless warlord. And it so happens no one compares to Malgus. He will lead your armies to victory and become a loyal companion in creating a new Empire."
"Thank you for this honor," I bowed to Valkorion and resumed walking. "But what guarantee is there he won't betray me and you?"
"He simply won't be able to," Valkorion said with a chuckle. "His will has been broken, crushed, and made subject to me. And since you are my apprentice, my will in this world, he will obey you."
"I obediently accept your gift, Master," I lowered my head again.
"That is not all," Valkorion noted.
The three of us returned to the storage's central section. Now I could see that it was circular, with a dais inside holding medical equipment and an operating table. Nearby, with her back to us, stood a female figure.
"You exceeded my expectations in the fight with Kun," Vitiate said suddenly. "I believed you would only significantly weaken the ghost, and I, with your help, would reclaim my power. But you surprised even me," pride sounded in Valkorion's voice. "And without much trouble you killed a potential rival and an obstacle to my plans." The Emperor made a gesture, and the girl turned to face us, revealing a painfully familiar face.
"You know who she is," the Emperor stated the obvious. "She knows that from now on she belongs to you. So," he concluded, "in this journey she will accompany you as well."
"Kira," he addressed the red-haired Jedi girl of the past. "My child, allow me to introduce Rik Dougan, my apprentice. From now on you obey him. His desire is law for you, his will is the continuation of my will."
"As you command, Emperor," the girl sank to one knee before us. Extending her hands, she offered me her lightsaber pike. "My weapon is yours, my lord. What are your orders?"