**Chapter 881: The Heart of the Empire**
**Scene 1: Mern-13 Headquarters – Dagon POV**
Mern-13 Headquarters.
Dagon POV.
Dagon stood in the bustling command center of Mern-13 headquarters, the air filled with the low hum of consoles and the murmur of officers coordinating across the galaxy. When he saw Marshal Commander Blam enter, he immediately headed toward him, burning with impatience.
"Well, how do you feel after the procedures?" Dagon asked, his voice low but eager.
The clone shrugged, his new enhanced frame moving with subtle power. "It's hard to say. My strength and reaction speed haven't changed... I'll just have to get used to a new diet now. Out of habit, I ate a regular breakfast... I couldn't handle it. I felt like my stomach was going to burst. Same with the other guys."
Dagon nodded, his mind racing. "What about... well, do you understand?"
"Oh, as you requested, I said my head was a bit sore. They ran all the tests they could find—nothing out of the ordinary was found. They chalked it up to phantom pain from the concussions. They gave me some pills. Here are the results."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Dagon patted Blam on the shoulder and took the info card he handed him. "Excellent work."
"Thank you, sir. But may I ask? Why?"
"It had to be that way. Don't clutter your head with unnecessary information..."
Dagon couldn't tell him he'd decided to test the theory about the "chips" in the clones' heads. Frankly, he didn't really believe it, and now he'd received confirmation of this fact—or, more precisely, the absence of foreign bodies in the clones' heads. This was encouraging and opened up a wide field of activity for the future of the Empire's military.
"When is it planned to complete all the work?" Dagon asked, already thinking ahead.
"The doctors say it will take about three weeks to 'upgrade' all of Thirteen's clones, sir."
"Quite a long time..."
"As I was told, not all the equipment is ready yet and is just coming off the assembly line. The further we go, the faster and more extensive the 'modernization' will be. Rumor has it that in two months, the entire first generation will receive the necessary changes. In another month and a half, the second generation will follow. Things aren't SO simple with the third generation—if we start making changes now, the newest clones will be too young, and we'll have to wait almost four years for them to be ready…"
Dagon nodded, his mind already calculating the timeline. The enhanced clones would be the backbone of the new Empire's military, loyal and powerful beyond the standard template. This was the beginning of a new era.
**Scene 2: Observation Tower – Training Grounds**
Standing in the observation tower, I watched through binoculars as the militiamen conducted practical exercises on a makeshift training ground constructed from a landing pad between the barracks. A brilliant idea, it allowed us to practice almost real combat. The opponents were clones and occasionally reprogrammed CIS droids. But this was a rather expensive endeavor, so it was mostly the clones who were pulverizing the militiamen for several weeks now. Why not? Firstly, we were already in reserve, and secondly, there was no change on all fronts—that is, a lull. Only localized skirmishes between patrol squadrons and a couple of planetary battles reminded us that the war continues...
"How are things going, General?" I asked the commander of the Third Corps, Teiter Cordovskaya, without taking my eyes off the binoculars.
The blonde spat on the floor.
- They are dead, sir.
"I definitely like her optimism! This Teiten is truly an extraordinary individual. The other two brigadier generals, Orum and DeMarakesh, or as I mentally call them, Shtepsel and Tarapunka, are average--solid, but average, nothing special. But Brigadier General Kordovskaya is a completely different story."
-Do you think so?
"Without a doubt. They're of little use in a real fight."
⁃ But we train them, don't we?
"With all due respect, sir, it takes much more time. At least a year, preferably two. That's the only time it takes to develop a decent soldier. Although three years is ideal."
- We don't have that much time, Brigadier General.
"Hmm... Of course, it could be done faster" the woman muttered.
- How much faster?
-- I could make soldiers out of them in a month.
- A month? Are you kidding?
"Not at all, sir. But I'm afraid that to do that, I'd have to break them first, trample them physically and mentally, and only then mold the resulting mince into something digestible.."
"Confidence in your words and a fanatical gleam in her eyes... Strength, who did they push on me in the HR department?"
--..but I don't think it's necessary.
"And you don't want to say that after this you'll be sued and ostracized for your methods? Are these just her usual methods? Judging by the scars, she's seen quite a bit of fighting."
Or
What do you mean?
Cordovskaya crossed her arms over her chest, looking at me with some regret.
"What's unclear about that? This war will end sooner or later. I don't rule out a chance of a Most likely, either we'll win, followed by a lot of political and huckster talk. And then the army will be useless again, and everything will go back to its usual... well, old-fashioned path."
Dagon stood in the observation tower overlooking the training grounds, binoculars pressed to his eyes. The militiamen were being put through their paces on a makeshift combat field built from a repurposed landing pad. Clones and reprogrammed CIS droids served as opponents, turning the exercises into near-real combat simulations. It was a brutal but effective way to prepare them.
"How are things going, General?" Dagon asked the commander of the Third Corps, Teiter Cordovskaya, without lowering the binoculars.
The blonde woman spat on the floor, her voice blunt. "They are dead, sir."
Dagon liked her optimism. Teiter Cordovskaya was an extraordinary individual compared to the other brigadier generals. "Do you think so?"
"Without a doubt. They're of little use in a real fight."
"But we train them, don't we?"
"With all due respect, sir, it takes much more time. At least a year, preferably two. That's the only time it takes to develop a decent soldier. Although three years is ideal."
"We don't have that much time, Brigadier General."
"Hmm... Of course, it could be done faster," the woman muttered.
"How much faster?"
"I could make soldiers out of them in a month."
"A month? Are you kidding?"
"Not at all, sir. But I'm afraid that to do that, I'd have to break them first, trample them physically and mentally, and only then mold the resulting mince into something digestible..."
Dagon studied her carefully. The confidence in her words and the fanatical gleam in her eyes were unmistakable. "And you don't want to say that after this you'll be sued and ostracized for your methods? Are these just her usual methods? Judging by the scars, she's seen quite a bit of fighting."
Cordovskaya crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him with some regret. "What's unclear about that? This war will end sooner or later. I don't rule out a chance of a most likely, either we'll win, followed by a lot of political and huckster talk. And then the army will be useless again, and everything will go back to its usual... well, old-fashioned path."
**Scene 3: The New Empire**
The new flag of the Galactic Empire, I can't use the new republic since my family's crest was adopted to form the alliance starbird so I used the galactic alliance crest.
Crest features a stylized, sharp-winged bird emblem, representing freedom, with the 4 point sun of the Sith Empire and the Jedi symbol in it.
Blue and green.
And a new song.
" "Dedicate Your Heart!"
Created by the Japanese band Linked Horizon under the direction of singer-songwriter Revo.
'Luckily since a new galaxy they don't exist and its the only song I remembered that is basically also a war cry,' Dagon thought smiling at the new recruits.
'Eventually the clones will be phased out, even with their new life cycle and I know even after I win all my wars, the senate or the peace faction despite diminished with try to start a rebellion after the wars end and by that time an army of enhanced Jedi clones will be there' ensuring my reign and my children's reign and their children if they want.
Also any if any of their children's should they crazy will fail safe as well.
Dagon stood on the balcony overlooking the newly christened Imperial training grounds, the new flag of the Galactic Empire fluttering proudly in the wind. The stylized sharp-winged bird emblem represented freedom, with the four-point sun of the old Sith Empire and the Jedi symbol integrated into its design. Blue and green colors symbolized the unity of the new order.
A new anthem played across the grounds—"Dedicate Your Heart!"—its powerful lyrics and driving rhythm serving as both a war cry and a call to loyalty. 'Luckily since a new galaxy they don't exist and it's the only song I remembered that is basically also a war cry,' Dagon thought, smiling at the new recruits marching below.
Eventually the clones will be phased out, even with their new life cycle. Dagon knew that even after he won all his wars, the Senate or the peace faction—despite being diminished—would try to start a rebellion after the wars end. By that time an army of enhanced Jedi clones would be there, ensuring his reign and his children's reign and their children if they want.
Also any if any of their children should they go crazy will have fail safes as well.
The Empire was rising, and Dagon was its architect. The future was his to shape.