Grand Admiral

Nine years, six months, and sixteen days after the Battle of Yavin...

Or the forty-fourth year, six months, and sixteen days after the Great Resynchronization.

As soon as the de facto head of the New Republic finished speaking, Han Solo felt that the deck of the shuttle began to disappear from under his feet...

— What did you say? — he whispered, mentally thanking the creator of the ship for the fact that a chair was located a meter from the holoprojector, into which the New Republic general collapsed like mown grass. — Leia... Chewbacca... Lando... disappeared?

— We are sure that everything is okay with them, — Mon Mothma said hastily, but Han was no longer listening. In his temples, blood was pounding so hard that it drowned out all the sounds around him...

His wife and two closest friends had gone on some crazy journey that he hadn't liked from the very beginning, and disappeared... And not just disappeared, but most likely were in captivity with the Imperials!?

— Most likely, the Loyalty was badly damaged in battle and is making its way to our base... — Mon Mothma continued. But her words did not reassure at all. On the contrary, Han felt an inhuman rage begin to spread inside him.

Raising his head, he looked directly into the hologram's eyes:

— You can tell this fairy tale to your electorate as much as you want, Mothma, — he said with poorly concealed anger, — but I know a little bit about ships... And I know the location of our bases in that region of the galaxy. And Lando knows them too. And General Cracken even more so. Don't make me an idiot here! If their communication systems had failed, then Chewie or Leia would have contacted me through the Falcon's communication systems!

Judging by the fact that the head of the Provisional Council was only blinking, not knowing what to answer, she clearly did not expect Solo to react in this way. Or she didn't know that his wife had gone on a flight on his ship.

— General, — she said more calmly, — we believe that everything is okay with them...

— And what is your confidence based on, Mon? — Han clenched his fists. His teeth clenched so hard that enamel crumbs began to fall onto his tongue. — Do you have direct contact with the Empire, which reported that everything is okay?! Or perhaps you have any evidence? — he narrowed his eyes. — Something substantial to support your confidence in this?

— Han, listen, we believe... — the red-haired head of the Provisional Council stammered.

— Oh, you believe, — Solo grimaced. — I feel better... Much better!

— I understand your feelings...

— Stop loading me with vacuum! — he roared. — You have never been in my place, and you will never understand my feelings! I flew to this Hutt planet to talk to your nerf in an aurdium cage, and I only found a burnt-out villa of your agents and carefully laid traps in Grant's abode! His residence exploded as soon as I landed my ship! Two! Do you hear! I spent two days figuring out what happened there! For two days I reported to you personally about what was happening, and you told me that Leia was negotiating with Karrde! You've been fooling my brains for two days, forcing me to investigate explosions and fires instead of throwing myself into the Milagro system and starting my own investigation! Do you even realize that it will now be simply impossible to find her!? The standard hyperdrive on Imperial ships is second class! In forty-eight hours, any Imperial starship could have crossed a quarter of the galaxy! Leia, and with her my children, may now be in Imperial captivity! Do you have any idea what they will do to her?!

— Like no other, — Mon Mothma said in a firm tone.

— I'm sorry I don't believe you! — Han threw, jumping up from his seat and beginning to pace the compartment. — I have no doubt that with your help, this puffed-up, upright doormat recalled me from vacation and ordered me to return to Naboo! Are you doing this on purpose so that I don't start looking for my wife and friends!?

— Han, listen! Now is not the time to...

— Not the time? — Solo sneered. — Am I hearing this from you, Mon? Wasn't it you who told Leia that it was not time for her to learn the Jedi art? Wasn't it you who said before the Battle of Endor that Palpatine had made a mistake? And in fact, it turned out to be a trap in which we would all have died if it hadn't been for Luke?! Isn't it because of your sweet speeches that we almost died on that wooded satellite surrounded by man-eating bears?! Didn't you express doubts about the truth of my words that one of the Imperial Grand Admirals was acting against us?! Yes, you! And now I should believe your words?

— Han, all the Republican intelligence services are looking for them...

— Intelligence? — Solo chuckled bitterly. — The very one that for the second month cannot find the Imperial fleet, the commander of which bleeds us at every opportunity?! The very one that sanctioned the operation at Rugosa, where we lost an entire fleet and many of our supporters, as a result of which a significant part of the smugglers simply refused to work with us?! The very same intelligence that stated that Karrde is clean and friendly, and as a result, first he escapes from the Imperial trap at Rugosa, and then he arranges a meeting for Leia and General Cracken in the Milagro system, where they disappear, and he, I can bet, is alive and well and is sitting in his hole again?! Are you talking about that intelligence?

Mon Mothma pursed her lips, not finding what to answer to the fair claim.

— Han, I ask you to listen to the voice of reason, — her tone changed from official and business-like to pleading and almost fawning. — Now is not the time to commit acts that we will all subsequently regret...

Something inside the Corellian snapped. Like a taut string that could not survive the increase in tension, he suddenly somehow hunched over, ruffled up... His hand itself tore at the collar of his tunic...

— Here you are right as never before, Mon, — he said with a bitter smile on his lips, literally tearing off his suffocating tunic. — I'll probably listen to reason...

***

Pulling the blade out of the pilot's neck, Captain Steben allowed the mercenary's body to collapse on the deck of the ship, which still retained its Mandalorian design.

Exhausted, the scout realized that if he didn't find a foothold for himself right now, he would fall on the deck. Moreover — flat.

Putting the vibro-knife aside, the man lowered himself to the deck, practically ignoring the mercenary's Consortium body twitching in convulsions. With a disgusting squish, blood was pouring out of the latter's dissected throat in jerks. The legs helplessly floundered on the grate deck of the corvette, and the fingers, now and then clenching, scratched against the metal in helpless anger against the one who had turned the ship into a cemetery.

Steben sat for a few minutes, clutching his head in his hands, trying to catch his breath. He barely listened to the sounds of the dying man. Not the first and not the last. Neither for today, nor for his whole life...

However easy he was about death, his mind began to think clearly only after the last opponent was silent. Steben, tearing his head from his knees, checked with a kick of his foot whether the pilot of the corvette was really dead. A painful blow to the ear with a heavy boot would not have left anyone indifferent. But the pilot remained lying where death had overtaken him. So he was definitely dead.

Drawing air into his nostrils, Captain Steben grimaced.

Despite the operation of the life support system, the atmosphere inside the ship was literally saturated with a blood aroma with a characteristic odor. Well, yeah...

The standard crew of a Crusader-class corvette is seventy sentients. This number includes gunners, mechanics, technicians, targeting system operators, various specialists and other crew members vital for the effective functioning of the ship.

And they were all now on board this corvette with a difficult-to-pronounce name. However, Steben, who was listed as only a fighter in a small — some five sentients — inspection and boarding group, never even tried to pronounce the name.

And now, he simply didn't have the strength for that.

He was too tired. How long had he been without sleep? A day? Two?

Looking at the wrist chronometer, in the dial of which there was a small window with the number of the current day of the week, the captain smiled crookedly.

Oh, really... The fifth day had passed.

The fifth day... No wonder he was tired.

It all started with him receiving an order to infiltrate the Zann Consortium militants on the planet Hypori. It turned out to be not so difficult, but not easy either.

The idea of ​​presenting himself as a supervisor of the Noghri, who was in the service of the Consortium, had to be abandoned almost immediately — there were simply no representatives of this race on Hypori. At least those who would be in the service of criminals. Therefore, he simply passed himself off as a mercenary looking for a better and more fulfilling place.

The recruiter on the planet Rishi, where the Consortium had a hiring point for various kinds of scum, didn't really believe such a fairy tale, but Steben was still hired as a fighter. The simplest soldier, whose lifespan in battle is measured in hours — and that, if he has any creative skills in improvisation and a well-developed sense of danger. Not to mention the instinct of self-preservation.

On Hypori, he was awaited by a merciless training session in order to identify the limits of his physical capabilities. It can be said that he made the right impression on his new masters, so that from the category of "simple meat," he was assigned to "not-so-simple meat." That is, to the composition of heavily armed and well-trained (by the standards of the Consortium, of course) landing fighters who were on board each of the criminals' starships, no matter what size they were. It seems that the Imperial past did not let Tyber Zann go, since he tried to implement on his ships the same order that was established on the starships of the Imperial fleet.

For some time, Steben was on the ship and, as they say, "did not shine," blending into the team and gathering as much information as possible. And it literally flowed like a stream from talkative mercenaries.

And from everything he had heard, several conclusions could be drawn.

First — those with whom he had to serve on board this starship were by no means veterans of the organization, but the same "soldiers of fortune" as he was. They had just signed their contracts for service earlier than him. That's why they knew more.

Second — they had no idea what was going on in the organization, who was in charge, giving orders, what goals were there, and so on. All that the militants knew, Steben knew without them: the Consortium had once brought the entire criminal world of the galaxy to its knees, after which the strong galaxies "united" in their desire to get rid of such a force. And they succeeded. All that the Consortium fighters now possessed were a few planets: Hypori, Salukemai, and Shola. Yes, the news about the latter was a revelation for Steben, but such information was not worth the days spent inside the organization.

After recruitment, the fighters were not allowed onto the surface of the planets, leave was not provided. The mercenaries could spend their free time on board their ships or at the stations, while this or that starship was flying for supplies to one or another criminal world.

No real clues. On Hypori, he could not find the location of the conveyor for the production of droidekas, but from the words of some mercenaries, he knew for certain that they were — because he saw them on the decks of the Consortium's starships.

The Noghri on the planet also confirmed the information that the droid production plant was and was successfully functioning. But Steben could not verify this on his own.

However, he managed to gather some information — about the number and armament of enemy ships. Both in the orbit of Hypori and in the two other worlds belonging to the bandits. However serious the blow to the Consortium that led to the fall of their greatness was, they still had a good fleet of three dozen capital ships and a hundred smaller starships.

And then came the order to terminate the mission and break contacts with the Noghri... The surprise knew no bounds. But Steben obeyed.

But getting off a Consortium ship was not so easy. Especially when it was directed to fly from Hypori to Salukemai.

Therefore, Steben began to act.

As they taught in the Intelligence Academy.

First, he disabled the main and backup long-range transmitters, removing several small but important spare parts from them, knowing for sure that they were definitely not on board the corvette. Then, before they woke up, he did the same with both hyperdrives.

Along the way, arranging a bloody harvest, killing one after another the crew members who could somehow organize the repair of the ship, which had stalled halfway with inactive critical systems. And the crew frantically rushed through the compartments and decks in search of a saboteur. Steben was also looking. He wisely did not emerge on himself in the process of the investigation. But he methodically reduced the enemy population — primarily his "colleagues" boarders.

And now, after five days without sleep, he was finally done. Leaving behind sixty-nine corpses, decks covered in blood, and the oppressive aura of a dead Mandalorian-designed ship.

"No," Steben shook his head. "No longer Mandalorian."

He could not find out where exactly the ships for the Zann Consortium fleet were being built, but he knew that there were no shipyards on any of the three planets controlled by this group. So, it was happening somewhere else.

And he really hoped that such information was in the bowels of this ship's computer. Otherwise, what was all this for?

Steben, with pain in his side, pierced during one of the hand-to-hand fights, got up. The bacta plaster was still holding, but he should get to the medbay.

Right after he finishes on the bridge...

The fleet scout reached the navigation panel. Pushing aside the pilot, whom he had killed with a blade strike to the heart, he placed him next to the one he had finished off by slitting his throat. He heavily lowered himself into the chair, feeling a stream of blood running down his body — the plaster had come off. He needed to see a medical droid.

Dialing in the well-known coordinates of Tangrene on the navigation panel, Steben activated the hyperdrive. Naturally, the ship didn't fly anywhere.

The scout, pressing the plaster to his pierced torso, limped to the stern. It was necessary to put the part back in place so that the ship could set off on a journey. Whether the captain survived or not, it didn't matter that much now, the main thing was that this corvette got to the Grand Admiral's base. And the Fleet specialists would rummage through its contents.

Oh, how it hurts.

A bloody fog appeared before his eyes. Steben injected another ampoule of adrenaline — he could not turn off in any case. The Consortium would definitely be looking for its ship. They should already be looking for it two or three days after the corvette didn't arrive at the base on time. It would take them a long time to follow the route, but they would find the ship that he had obtained with such difficulty. It was just a matter of time...

The bloody haze before his eyes receded. According to his estimates, he had no more than thirty minutes, after which he would simply black out from blood loss. He needed to hurry...

It took him fifteen minutes to reach his hiding place on the engine deck, from where he took out the necessary parts. He went to the hyperdrive compartment. He looked at the dead installation, the operation of which was prevented by an active fuse.

He reached the installation, returned the mechanism to its place, while spitting blood on the deck. He reached the switchboard. He restarted the automation.

The Crusader-class corvette broke away, dissolving at light speed so abruptly that Captain Steben slammed the back of his head against the deck.

Oh, how hard it was to get up... And how he didn't want to... He had done his job... The ship and data had been obtained... They would reach Tangrene — Steben had deliberately plotted such a course in order to move along the most remote hyperlanes. This reduced the likelihood of the trophy being intercepted by other forces.

Well, that's it... He had done what he could... He only needed to lie down, gather strength and go to the medical droid. And everything would be fine...

He just needed to lie down, rest, close his eyes... He hadn't slept for five days... He had the right to a quarter of an hour of restless sleep...

Captain Steben closed his eyes, not noticing the pool of blood-red color accumulating beneath him...

He lost consciousness almost instantly, so he couldn't hear the sounds of the droid's manipulators clanging against the deck.

***

After the hologram of the young Jensaraii had finished his report, I looked at Captain Pellaeon, who was sitting next to me. Gilad, taking off his uniform cap, smoothed his hair. He sighed and looked at me.

— Sir, this will be a tough nut to crack, — he finally said. — Six Mon Calamari star cruisers...

"Well, at least he didn't say once again that it's impossible," I said distractedly, mentally thanking myself for preferring to use reconnaissance just before attacking the enemy positions.

— So, Mr. Fodeum Sabre De'Luz, — the three-dimensional projection of the young man twitched, as if I had slapped him. — The enemy has increased the number of escort ships at the Hast shipyards.

— Exactly three star cruisers, — the sub-Jensaraai confirmed. — And this is as of my previous appearance in the system.

— It's not scary, — I said as indifferently as possible.

I was running the information I had in my head.

So, the enemy has driven six Mon Calamari-made star cruisers to the Hast shipyards. Our old acquaintances — MC80s.

Against my seven "Imperial" ones — worthy opponents. But the enemy also has four "Golans" — two of the first model, and one each of the second and third. Not to mention the numerous patrol fighters based on the surface.

I do not take into account two orbital repair shops of the first type — they do not pose a danger. As well as both Imperial I-class star destroyers, seven Mon Calamari MC80-class star cruisers, five Nebulon B-class escort frigates, and two dozen CR90-class Corellian corvettes. All these ships are currently fully restored in terms of the integrity of their hulls and propulsion systems, but are not combat-ready. The armament on them is minimal and will only be delivered on the twentieth day of the month. And a certain number of transport ships. In fact, I am sure that the latest freighters delivering everything necessary for the full armament of the starships are already on their way and will soon be in place. Well, we will take them too. The first question is in the last details: whether the standard weapons will actually be provided.

The problem is that the conditional opponents against my fleet are not everything. Literally two days away at first class hyperdrive from the Hast shipyards is the planet Dac. The homeland of such races as Mon Calamari and Quarren. Both races are excellent engineers and shipbuilders, which is confirmed by the participation of the latter in the construction of starships for the Confederacy of Independent Systems during the Clone Wars, and the Mon Calamari... What is there to say? They build almost the entire capital fleet for the enemy, and that means something.

And also, Dac is the base of the sectoral fleet of the New Republic. Not as powerful as, for example, the Second Fleet based on the planet Elom, but still — too strong for us. And it's in full strength, and that's just a few dozen capital ships alone, not to mention cruisers and other "small stuff." Contacting them is more trouble than it's worth.

Therefore, the operation on Hast should not take a long time: a day and a half, no more. Everything that we cannot take with us will have to be destroyed, and even better — critically damaged. So that the enemy could neither abandon these ships, nor would the restoration take a long time.

An additional "bonus" from the attack on the shipyards is also the fact that there are now twenty medium GR-75 transports produced by the bankrupt shipbuilding company "Kallofri Shipyards," which went bankrupt almost ten years ago. At the moment, they are almost unloaded, because they delivered spare parts necessary for repairing ships to the shipyards. And by the twentieth day there will be even more of them. And, most likely, they will arrive together with the escort ships.

Well, I had certain "trumps" for this operation. Phoenix — an Acclamator II-class assault cruiser, filled to the brim with landing craft and boarding shuttles, which our stormtroopers are eager to put into action. Or Dragon — a heavily modernized Venator. Yes, it would have been possible to take plasma drills and droidekas with us, but the time for their wide application had not yet come — I did not rule out the option that some of the opponents would manage to escape, despite the presence of three ships with gravitational field generators in my fleet. And if so, then the surprise, which is being saved for the Sluis Van shipyards, can be spoiled. However, in a small version, we will try out our technology on the Republican ships. Testing in a combat environment...

— Continue the operation, Mr. Fodeum Sabre De'Luz, — I said, looking at the owner of Elegant Lady. Now he and his ship were loading up with supplies on Dac in order to make their last trip to the Hast shipyards until the military finally took them over. If Lieutenant Rederick's last report turned out to be correct, then it would be possible to lure some of the "freelance" workers at both shipyards into service. Well, we'll decide that on the spot. — Upon arrival in the Hast system, report on the situation immediately — whether there are any changes or not. The fleet will arrive later, — I, of course, was not going to specify when exactly this would happen. — And we need to be aware of the latest news. Your girlfriend should stay on Dac...

— Sir!? — the young man jerked.

— Provide her with communication means, — I said. — Captain Pellaeon, transfer to the captain's account funds sufficient for the purchase of some decent freighter that a single sentient can pilot.

Pellaeon looked at me in surprise.

— As you command, Grand Admiral, — he said, realizing that extra questions were not needed. Especially in front of witnesses.

— Your girlfriend, — I again addressed the Jensaraai, — will receive a legitimate basis to stay on Dac and continue to gather information. Is a caravan of transports with weapons forming there?

— Yes, — the man replied. — Ten medium freighters...

— The size of the escort?

— I-I don't know, — the young man stammered. — I'm flying earlier than them because of my duties for unloading and removing some of the personnel, and the escort forces are not advertised.

— In that case, your girlfriend will find out, — I decided. — As soon as she becomes aware of this, she will inform us and leave Dac. If she doesn't blab, everything will be fine.

— And after that, Vex and I will be free? — the guy asked hopefully.

— Yes, — I answered. — Unless, of course, you have a desire to continue working together.

— No, thank you, — Fodeum Sabre De'Luz said. — Just stop holding my mother hostage, and we'll say goodbye.

Of course, we'll say goodbye. But after the operation is completed, you will be very surprised by the fact that your mother is not at all a hostage, but is voluntarily cooperating with us. And she is very skilled at figuring out the identities of enemy spies. Not to mention the fact that my cooperation with the Jensaraai people will continue in the future. Right after Mara Jade completes her mission on Vjun. Captain Schneider has already complained about her, saying that the lieutenant forced him to get out of hyperspace early and send out scout droids to study the system and the approaches to it. It would not be true to say that the commander of the Nemesis was pleased with the fact that I remained on the side of the red-haired beast.

Unfortunately, you can't rush on Vjun. If there is any knowledge about the Force there, then this will help to properly attach the Jensaraai to us. If not, then at least get everything possible and necessary from there.

— You will get what we agreed on, Mr. Fodeum Sabre De'Luz, — I said calmly. — That's all.

The hologram melted, after which silence hung in my cabin.

Chimera and the fleet, including the Colicoid Swarm that had joined us, were now in the Pakoony system, near the NL-1 outpost. A quiet area of ​​space, which at the moment turned out to be not very popular. The flow of pirates and just adventurers who expressed a desire to serve my cause was gradually decreasing. The pirate fleet, unrestrained and ugly, somehow "stirred up" the logistics routes of the New Republic. And lately they have begun to consolidate around Captain Tiberos, who will eventually turn into a pirate admiral. Of course, if he doesn't cross the boundaries of what is permissible, as, for example, he did with the pirates on the planet Lok. Well, we'll get back to that.

And now it was necessary to take a number of steps.

— Inform the fleet that we are departing, — I ordered.

— Jump to Munto Codru? — Pellaeon clarified.

— Exactly, Captain, — I confirmed. — This system will become our springboard to the Hast shipyards. Tell our paratroopers to be ready to advance.

The official route to the Hast shipyards passed through the Mon Calamari sector — at least the Imperials used this route in their previous attack. Using this route now is suicide. The New Republic holds in the sector not only a fleet, but also cruiser minesweepers. If we get caught, we will undoubtedly be dealt with. And the operation will be disrupted.

Therefore, an alternative route was chosen — instead of the Mon Calamari people's sector, we will start from the Munto Codru system. This will save us one to two days of travel, and instead of the twentieth, we will arrive on the eighteenth or nineteenth. Which coincides with the arrival dates of our comrade-Jensaraai.

And, if it weren't for the customs of the local inhabitants of Munto Codru to kidnap children, this planet could have become an excellent place to relax. And if in most of the galaxy kidnapping is considered a crime, then here it is nothing more than a local custom and a traditional way of doing business and making money. Oh, how many wonderful discoveries this galaxy holds for me...

It is located just halfway between the Pakuuni and Dac systems. Most of the planet's land was covered with rocky mountains surrounded by extensive forests. A significant area of ​​the world's surface is also hidden under oceans. There is a simple but functional spaceport. The planet is famous for its beautiful castles, for which, in fact, it got on the astrogation maps at all.

Honestly, the local architectural sights are so vividly described in the tourist guides that part of me wanted to go to the planet and admire the castles. They were built not by the locals, but by representatives of a vanished civilization, which added even more charm and mystery to them.

During the Clone Wars, the planet was in the Separatist space, although it escaped the fate of becoming a battlefield for space or land forces.

The Empire and the New Republic have not paid attention to this remote system, which is actually thrown beyond the edge of the galaxy. For this reason, Munto Codru plays a role in my plans. Not only for passage to the Hast shipyards — I wouldn't send a stormtrooper unit to the planet with landing craft and the necessary equipment for that. Kidnapping other people's children and using them to gain their own benefit is quite vile from a moral point of view, but only from a human one. For the natives, all this is the norm. And if so, then this world will serve as a point of retreat for me. It was not for nothing that I indicated its coordinates in the chip that I gave to Pellaeon in case of my death. The original Thrawn kept his secrets and clone in the dungeon under the Thrawn Hand Fortress on the planet Niraun. I don't know the way there yet, so Munto Codru will be a great alternative for storing my secrets.

In the bowels of ancient castles, which the locals mostly prefer to avoid, superstitiously believing that they are inhabited by ghosts. Well, stormtroopers in snow-white armor just look like them. And to take control of one of the abandoned castles... Well, that's an easy task.

I remembered this planet when I was thinking about the children of Leia Organa-Solo. There was such an episode in the Expanded Universe when they were kidnapped in the specified world. It wasn't locals, though, but Imperials. But that's a different story.

The plan is as simple as everything good. Unfortunately, it is too early to claim the ideal. I hope that only for now, and not completely.

The paratroopers are acting in two detachments.

The first secretly takes control of one of the castles and equips a base there, where a backup plan will be created. Even without my participation, as such, but if it happens that I die, this galaxy will still shudder. Properly.

The second detachment, reinforced with heavy equipment, will seize an empty castle in the capital city, where the kidnapped children of the local chiefs will be brought. And they will be there under protection and in complete order until we return from the Hast system. After that, I will meet with the locals and ensure their loyalty. One way or another.

Well, now we move on to the second part of our preparation for the invasion of the Hast shipyards. Everything is according to the canons of sabotage operations from my native world — reconnaissance, followed by distraction. And although this trick has already been used by me in the past, the real operation and cover have not been carried out in the same sector. Which should have confused my opponents.

— Contact the Striking, — I said, referring to the Strike-class medium cruiser based in the Pakoony system.

— Sir? — Pellaeon's eyebrows crawled up. Well, yes, of course, I can do this personally, given that the ship is in the same star system with us and is drifting at a distance of a couple of hundred kilometers from us, near the NL-1 outpost.

— We need a distraction, Captain, — I explained. — No matter what forces the New Republic military has in the sector, we don't need to contact them. Therefore, the Striking will carry out an intimidation action on the planet known as New Alderaan.

— Wouldn't it be better to entrust this event to the Imperious and Captain Shohashi? — Pellaeon grumbled.

— If I wanted to destroy the remaining Alderaanians, who are so conveniently located on one planet, I would certainly do so, — the frankness made Pellaeon flinch. — The task facing the Striking is precisely to attract the enemy's attention to New Alderaan. And as a consequence — a distraction from the active fleet.

Simpler — if only to chew it to molecules. I, of course, am not going to do this. Let him think with his own head, an Imperial commander of that rank has it not only to eat and wear a uniform cap.

Located on the opposite side of Pakuuni in quadrant T-6, the planet New Alderaan was a centralized place of residence for Alderaanians from all over the galaxy who had survived the destruction of their native world at the hands of Grand Moff Tarkin and the Death Star's superlaser.

It was founded, according to Imperial intelligence data that became the property of the Imperial Space after the defeat of the warlord Zinj, shortly before the Battle of Yavin IV, as a temporary base. And then the settlement grew, becoming a place of residence for refugees...

Seven years after the specified battle, the warlord Zinj sent his forces here and actually razed the settlement to the ground — that's how the location of the planet, which was not known to a large number of sentients outside this world, was revealed. An interesting fact — after Zinj's defeat, the Imperials did not raid here. Obviously counting on the fact that no one would be smart enough to found a settlement here again...

There is no point in commenting on subsequent events, it was enough that the settlement here still appeared. And it prospered, it must be understood, since a criminal organization known as the "Black Sun" founded a one-day company there to sell airspeeders. And in fact, a simple fraud was committed, as a result of which the locals were left without money. And the promised vehicles did not appear...

The reason for the attack on New Alderaan is simple — this planet is close to the Mon Calamari sector, and therefore, as soon as an Imperial ship appears here that begins to attack military facilities such as defensive structures, and TIE fighters begin to patrol the sky, shooting down local defense forces, a Republican ship will inevitably appear here to drive away, and ideally, destroy the enemy. But this takes time. Therefore, it is necessary to calculate it with pinpoint accuracy.

— Sir, — Pellaeon ran a hand over his face. — The Mon Calamari will not send their entire fleet from Dac to defend New Alderaan. The proportionality of the threat from one medium cruiser...

— On the contrary, Captain, — I said. — You do not take into account the fact that the command of the sector fleet is made up of Mon Calamari. And they are incredibly friendly with both the Alderaanians and their princess, Leia Organa-Solo. I have studied this race, — and I didn't even lie. But I paid less attention to the art of people from Dac than to the aspects of their psychology and reports about the actions of commanders from among this race during military battles. However, even in the few works of art of the Mon Calamari, I found many interesting things. Which raised a question for me: did the original Thrawn really study art, or were the works of various races for him nothing more than the results of the embodiment of the collective unconscious and the peculiarities of thinking? Because, to my surprise, I found parallels between the peculiarities of the Mon Calamari's actions in battle and in art. — Have you ever had the opportunity to watch the ballet "Squid Lake," Captain?

— No, sir, — Pellaeon said.

— Do not deny yourself this pleasure, — I advised. No, in fact, even apart from the analysis, it is a truly fascinating work of art. In my past life, I didn't really like to go to theaters, citing my employment in the service. But here it so happened that culture and war intertwined... — A worthwhile work of art. Which sheds a lot of interesting light on the physiology and mindset of our opponent. Tell me, Captain, have you ever heard that young Mon Calamari, despite being amphibians, can drown underwater?

— No, sir, — the commander of Chimera said restrainedly.

— Meanwhile, that's the case, — I continued. — Like many other races, the young populations of the Mon Calamari are unable to resist such a detrimental effect as panic. It is she who destroys young Mon Calamari in their natural habitat. "Squid Lake" perfectly demonstrates this innate threat that has taken root in the unconscious of the entire race. The ballet uses spheres of water inside which actors from Dac perform all the action. I compared several holorecordings, including the one that was shown at the end of the Clone Wars at the Opera on Coruscant. An interesting fact is that this particular performance was attended by then-Chancellor Palpatine and the galaxy-famous Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. It seems that you met with the latter during the war, Captain?

— As with many others, sir, — Gilad grumbled.

— So, — I continued. — Regardless of the place and time of the demonstration, even when the actors of the troupe and the director changed, the sizes of the spheres of water always remain unchanged. If you extrapolate them to the ratio of the sizes of the actors' bodies and their position during the performance relative to the surface of the stage, then none of them is higher than thirty meters. This fact stems from the fact that it is at about this depth that the Mon Calamari feel confident. In all their work, which I managed to study, the peculiarity of their psychology of thinking is traced — they are phlegmatic, do not fall into anger in their main mass. In their culture, sharp or rapid transitions are not welcome, which indicates the fluidity of thinking and its inertia. This race came out of the oceans, but at the same time, the land for them, despite millennia of evolution, continued to be something new, mysterious and uncomfortable for a long time. They prefer a humid environment, and therefore mainly fight on ships of their own making or modified to suit their biological characteristics. It's interesting, isn't it, that even in the mentioned ballet, they use water as an environment for demonstration, although they feel quite comfortable in the humid environment that could have been organized for the performance.

— Sir, how will knowing their psychology help us win at Hast?

— Patience, Captain, — I advised. — You'll understand everything soon. The Mon Calamari are by nature inquisitive, but at the same time conservative. Take, for example, their orbital shipyards. On the one hand, this is a demonstration of the desire to explore space and care for the ecology of their planet — because assembling ships in orbit is much more environmentally friendly and productive due to the absence of the planet's gravity in the same values ​​as on the surface. And at the same time, the Mon Calamari did not place their slipways simply in space, outside the orbit of Dac. What do you think, why?

— So it's easier for logistics services to operate? — Gilad suggested.

— Not true, — I answered. — The Mon Calamari did not originate from predators, but from much more peaceful ancestors. Rare representatives of them tend to attack, as a symbol of showing initiative. For the most part, they will run away if they are threatened with imminent death. Instincts for peaceful races are always more difficult to overcome than for descendants of predators. That is why the "Mon Calamari Shipyards" are located in a geostationary orbit, and not in space — in order to facilitate retreat in case of great danger.

— As far as I remember, the Mon Calamari, in particular Admiral Ackbar, are known for almost legendary quality of determination and dedication to their cause, — Pellaeon said.

— Correct, Captain, — I said. — It's not for nothing that I am confident that one day you will become an admiral.

Pellaeon looked down in embarrassment.

— Let's continue, — I said. — It's not for nothing that the Mon Calamari are considered stubborn. If their people have decided on a course of action, it was not easy to divert them from this decision. Including, this is reflected in their idealism, which turns into an obsession with things that from the very beginning seemed hopeless. Their courage and self-sacrifice are demonstrated when the need arises. And consequently, we transfer everything said earlier to the situation with the Alderaanians. An unfairly destroyed friendly world — Alderaan. Refugees who are attacked by the enemy. Their compatriot, who has achieved a high position in society and is unjustly accused of treason. Add to this the idealistic desire of the Mon Calamari to do everything strictly according to the rules and intolerance towards those who break the law — we know about this from a huge number of examples throughout the galaxy, when the Mon Calamari dislike smugglers and are completely negative towards pirates. In this case, an attack by an Imperial ship on a "defenseless planet" will be regarded by the opponent as an act of piracy or a crime. Under such conditions, the idealists Mon Calamari, famous for their conduct of war "against evil," will certainly throw at least a couple of star cruisers from their arsenal against our medium cruiser. Given that we have an informant on Dac, we will know for sure when and in what composition a convoy with equipment will leave. By calculating the time at which it will be easier for the Mon Calamari to recall several starships from the convoy and throw them at the Striking than to continue endangering New Alderaan while waiting for the arrival of a detachment or a connection from Dac itself, we get a weakening of the enemy's escort. Given the difference in time between our attack and the departure of the convoy with weapons, we find that we will not have to fight simultaneously with both the shipyard guards and their reinforcements.

— As soon as they find out about the attack on the Hast shipyards, they may send reinforcements, — Pellaeon noted.

— It is for these purposes that our Jensaraai's girlfriend, a lady nicknamed "Vex," will remain in place until the end of the operation, — I explained. — The supply caravan will leave at the latest today or tomorrow. It will take them two to three days to reach Hast. It will take us less, thanks to a jump on another route. Consequently, both the attack on the shipyards and the attack on New Alderaan can be disrupted exclusively by the forces of the convoy. Which we will divide.

— Sir, but the patrols in the sector...

— They do not pose a threat to us, — I explained. — Thanks to the efforts of Councilor Fey'lya, the main forces are always at the bases, so as not to allow us to attack them and break them up one by one. As soon as reports of attacks come in, the Mon Calamari will spend more than one hour before coordinating their actions with the headquarters on Coruscant. However, I am sure that the vaunted organizational and analytical abilities of the Mon Calamari will give us a head start of two to three hours, no more. But by this time, the escort and the caravan will already be on their way. The laws of physics do not allow them to catch up with them and arrive at the same time. Therefore, the fleet arrives at the Hast shipyards at least a day before the arrival of the escort.

— The ships at the shipyards may not be ready for flight, — Pellaeon noted.

— That is why our goal is to capture, not destroy, transports with parts, — I reminded. — In a day, shipyard workers are able to bring a ship and de-energized stations into order after a serious battle. It won't take much time for our specialists to prepare everything necessary for departure. Surely our technicians, with the support of local workers, will be able to install spare parts on almost assembled starships. However, the protocol for repairing ships is the same everywhere — first internal work, then external. I am sure that we will get the ships with unpatched holes. We'll survive this trouble somehow.

Captain Pellaeon, after sitting in complete silence for several minutes, said:

— Do I understand correctly that you did not just order the concentration of most of the landing forces and assets on board the Colicoid Swarm and Phoenix?

— That's right, Captain, — I said. — The former has an impressive air wing, albeit of obsolete droid fighters. The droids from its landing wing will serve us well in the issues of attacking escort ships and clearing starships at the repair walls. And Phoenix simply has impressive hangars, which allows you to place a large number of landing craft inside the ship. And this, in turn, predetermines the fact that the capture of repaired ships will be relatively quick.

— And Dragon? — Pellaeon inquired. — It won't withstand a linear battle...

— It doesn't need to, — I noted. — The task of our modernized Venator is that it will rid us of the threat of orbital defense stations. If it manages quickly enough, then the six Mon Calamari star cruisers from the escort forces will also become ours faster than Admiral Ackbar is acquitted.

— I would like to believe it, Grand Admiral, — Pellaeon said. — If we win, we will immediately be hunted on an unprecedented scale...

— Not "if," but "when," — I clarified. — And yes, Captain, you are absolutely right. No one and never will forgive us such impudence. To the misfortune of our enemies, the role of the victim has already been determined. And be calm — it's not us.

Judging by the skepticism that flashed in the eyes of the commander of Chimera, he was not sure.

Well, history will judge us, dear Captain.

***

— Good morning, Princess Organa-Solo, — a caressing and well-modulated voice of a man in an Imperial uniform greeted her immediately after the girl opened her eyes.

Leia, barely realizing who was in front of her, with a quiet scream backed away, pressing her back against the bulkhead of the cabin that she occupied on board the Loyalty.

— Don't touch me! — she said in a slightly trembling voice. — I won't tell you anything anyway!

— I'm sure that's the case, — an Imperial officer in the uniform of the Imperial Security Bureau said in a bored tone, sitting opposite her. — Let me introduce myself. Lieutenant Colonel Astarion, counterintelligence.

— You already know my name, — Leia forced a crooked smile. — If your arrival is a manifestation of an act of friendliness, then I would ask you to leave me, since it is necessary...

— At least — take vitamins, — the lieutenant colonel, ignoring the Alderaanian princess's shocked face, handed her a small plastic container, inside of which were several dozen smaller cells. And inside each one — tablets, capsules...

— Are you planning to poison me? — she squinted.

— We planned to take care of you and your current pregnancy, — Astarion sighed. — You have a deficiency of a number of elements, trace elements, certain hormones are not in order... In general, the medic droid prescribed you a course of medications, — the man put the container he had brought aside. — It's up to you to use them and take care of your children. If necessary, you will be provided with any analyzer to make sure that no one is trying to pump you with drugs, neuroleptics, "truth serum," and so on down the list.

— And are you trying? — the princess asked in a tone full of sarcasm.

— You're making the Empire of Evil out of us, — her interlocutor noted. — You should know better.

— And is it possible to think that the Empire did not destroy worlds, did not exterminate peoples...

— Princess, — the Imperial said as calmly as possible. — There is no your usual audience here. You can stop engaging in populism. Both you and I know the "sins" of each of our sides. If we continue to throw rancor crap at each other, we will not achieve anything constructive.

— So you want to recruit me?! — Leia flared up. Before the Imperial replied, she quickly said:

— Know that you will not break my spirit! I fought the Empire and will continue to do so! I will not betray the New Republic!

— What? — the Imperial was taken aback. Then, realizing what she was talking about, he burst out laughing...

— Is my patriotism a joke to you? — she frowned.

— No-no-no, — the man said, after having laughed. — Just... Sorry, it's not ethical to say this, but during your speech, you had such a focused and inspired look on your face that I was already thinking about whether I should tear the ISB chevron from my shoulder and stand under your flags...

— Really? — Leia lit up.

— No, of course not, — the man said with a laugh. — Honestly, I don't know how you do it, maybe before, — he described a circular motion with his index finger towards her stomach, — a pretty face and figure worked, maybe something else, but as for me, your inspired talks are frankly not working. Well, that's your business. I came to ask...

— What about my friends?! — the princess interrupted him. The main thing was to seize the initiative in the conversation. She needed to take advantage of the fact that there was a military man in front of her, who was used to answering questions...

— Are you serious right now?! — the lieutenant colonel frowned. — Were you not taught the culture of communication with sentients at all on Alderaan?

— With sentients, not with Imperials, — Leia flicked her nose. The Imperial rolled his eyes...

— Are you seriously trying to annoy me right now? — he inquired.

— I want to know what happened and what is happening now with my friends, — the princess said demandingly.

— Lady, you are an Imperial prisoner, a prisoner of war, you are not supposed to ask questions, — the Imperial shook his head.

— Here is a minute of international and military law for you, Lieutenant Colonel, — Leia smiled radiantly. — The Empire has not declared war on the Alliance to Restore the Republic. And it did not declare it to the New Republic, so I am not considered a prisoner of war...

— So, I am fully entitled to throw you through the airlock into a vacuum, — the lieutenant colonel said with a smile. — After all, in this case, the provisions on the fight against pirates and criminals come into play, and after all, the Empire considers you to be one of them. Are you hinting at this with your masterful knowledge of military jurisprudence?

Leia was taken aback. Somehow the conversation had gone astray...

— So, what about my friends? — she asked quietly. — I ask you to answer.

— You were still taught politeness in the Royal House of Alderaan, — Lieutenant Colonel Astarion chuckled. — As you know, General Cracken shot himself. A stupid bravado — no one here will cut anyone into pieces for the sake of a scrap of information, we have enough informants in your government...

— What are you talking about? — Leia gasped, but the Imperial seemed not to have heard her.

— General Lando Calrissian is undergoing treatment in a bacta chamber. I think in a couple of hours he will be absolutely healthy, and you will be able to meet and talk in person...

— Your agents are in our government? — Leia inquired a little louder. But the Imperial ignored her again.

— A Wookiee named Chewbacca... — the counterintelligence agent took off his uniform hat, looking at her with sad eyes. Leia's heart clenched. The twins, reminding of themselves for the first time, stirred. — He gave us a lot of trouble. He destroyed a squad of stormtroopers with his bare hands before he could be neutralized.

— Is he dead!? — Leia felt detached... Was the most devoted friend of their family just dead like that...?

— If he hadn't been stunned, then yes, he would definitely be dead, — the lieutenant colonel smirked. — Now, for the sake of general safety, he is chained up and is in his apartments. You will meet him later...

— Karrde and his people? — the Alderaanian princess asked a new question.

— And what interest do they arouse in you? — the counterintelligence officer was surprised. Moreover, so naturally, genuinely, that Leia did not doubt his sincerity. Her rudimentary abilities for the Force were also silent, not informing her that the girl was being deceived.

— You attacked them and probably killed them, — she said, pursing her lips. — I just want to know...

— Will someone be able to inform the New Republic about what happened to you in the Milagro system? — Lieutenant Colonel Astarion chuckled. The girl nodded almost imperceptibly. — No, princess. Karrde and his subordinates played their part in the ambush and are no longer needed. At the moment...

Leia felt everything contract inside her.

Talon "The Claw" Karrde lured them into a trap?! General Cracken was right about his role in everything that happened?! No, it can't be... How could that be?!

— What will happen to us? — she asked in a dull voice.

— You'll stay with us as a guest, — the lieutenant colonel shrugged. — Anticipating your questions, I'll say right away — no one will torture or interrogate you.

— Since when does the Empire miss chances to get information from high-ranking representatives of the New Republic? — she asked. And an unpleasant assumption crept inside her, based on the words of the lieutenant colonel.

— Since the very time when the information itself flows into our hands, — he smiled. — I'm sorry, princess, but you and your rulers are clearly mistaken in that we are finished. The Grand Admiral kindly provides you with a place in the front row so that you can enjoy the beautiful spectacle of the collapse of everything you have created...

They have spies at the very top of the New Republic. They simply do not need to torture them, as Grand Moff Tarkin and Darth Vader did to her on board the first Death Star. They receive information almost firsthand...

That's how they manage to strike at the New Republic and remain unpunished! Someone with high clearance is passing on all the military and political secrets of the New Republic! That's why the Imperials are always one step ahead! That's why they are aware of all the steps that she and her comrades are taking against them! Spies in the highest circles of the New Republic! They and the information broker Karrde, whom she trusted so blindly, are doing all the work!

Oh, why, why didn't she trust Han's suspicions!? Why did she believe that Karrde could be on their side!?

But... even the fact that the information broker is a traitor does not cancel the fact that someone in the highest circles of the New Republic is supplying the Imperials with information! But who?! Who has such high access to military and political secrets that...

Leia felt something snap inside her...

No, it can't be Mon Mothma. The head of the Provisional Government dislikes the Empire and stood at the very origins of the Alliance, like her father and the long-vanished General Garm Bel Iblis... They can't...

"But Councilor Fey'lya can," the inner voice whispered. "Bothans always walk over heads in pursuit of the next portion of power."

And the puzzle came together... The councilor, who, thanks to the military failures of Admiral Ackbar, managed to take the place of Supreme Commander of the New Republic, thereby gaining all the military secrets of the state. He is a member of the Provisional Government and knows about all the steps taken by the former rebels, aimed both at stabilizing the economy, establishing domestic policy, and countering the Empire. He tried to push the inclusion of the corrupt and cooperating with the Empire planet New Cov into the New Republic. Yes, the opposition of Leia and General Cracken tied his hands and feet, but now...

Oh, Great Force... Fey'lya found out about their mission and "sold" them to the Imperials in order to remove his political opponents! Not only did she, Chewie, Lando and the newly repaired Imperial Star Destroyer fall into the hands of the enemies of the New Republic, but also huge funds... Most of which General Cracken took from the budget of the New Republic intelligence. And now his illegal agents were left without funding... Yes, the Empire doesn't need to fight with Republican spies at all now!

General Cracken, who committed suicide, actually cut off his organization, its illegal part, from Coruscant. He alone knew how to contact the most significant spies in the enemy's rear. And now he is dead. And the funding of informants has been terminated. Therefore, the supply of Imperial secrets, which is already a thin trickle of information, ceases completely... The Imperials got a ship, Fey'lya's political enemies, huge funds, on which they can build another Executor...

It is not difficult to guess what will happen in the future. Fey'lya will push the planets connected with the Empire into the New Republic. New Cov, Rendili, Brentaal IV, which were discussed at the last meeting of the Provisional Government before her departure... A supplier of biomolecular mass and two former Imperial shipyard planets... On which the Republic will definitely place new orders for the construction of starships or for their repair... Or...

Leia turned cold...

More than half of the starships of the Republican fleet are currently disarmed... The clumsy Sluissi are not able to endlessly play the role of a transport gateway for converted starships... Borsk Fey'lya will transfer them to Rendili and Brentaal IV, turning them into another transport hub... Not now, not today, not tomorrow, but he will push through the Provisional Council the adoption of these planets and systems into the New Republic... Disarmed Republican ships will arrive there... Yes, the Empire doesn't actually need to do anything anymore! In one fell swoop, they will get several hundred ships of their opponents! Data on the numerical composition of the fleet! They will hack the computers of starships and get all the information they need! Places of basing of ships! Training centers! Outposts! Warehouses of ammunition and equipment! Suppliers of weapons and ammunition!

Fey'lya provided them with everything they needed to destroy the New Republic from within...

Leia groaned quietly. This is the end. Everything they fought for, everything will be destroyed. The New Republic, based on the principles of confederation, will collapse by itself as soon as the worlds and sectors that are part of it realize that they have been betrayed and Coruscant is not able to protect not only them — but itself.

— I've actually come for this, — the lieutenant colonel's voice sounded muffled, as if coming through a layer of cotton. — You have arrived at a place where you will be until the Grand Admiral deems it necessary. Your chambers, as well as the apartments of your friends, are already ready. Unfortunately, the commander did not find the time to meet with you personally, but I assure you that this will happen. However, I cannot say when exactly. Business, you know...

Grand Admiral... Han was right again. A Grand Admiral is at the head of the Empire. They really didn't kill someone or they missed someone... They are finished.

— And what is your commander so busy with that he could not meet with the princess and the general in person? — she asked with pain and tears in her eyes, looking at the counterintelligence officer.

— The same as always, — he shrugged, smiling modestly. — He proves to the New Republic what it means for a bunch of rebels and criminals to fight against a career soldier of the Empire, who is not blinded by the ideas of human-centrism and contempt for the enemy. Or, in simpler terms, he is destroying your faith in your own strength.

Leia burst into tears. In the current situation, this was the only thing she could afford.

***

— Processing has begun, Grand Admiral, — Lieutenant Colonel Astarion reported in a calm tone.

— Who is chosen as the target? — I inquired.

— Princess Organa-Solo, — the counterintelligence officer replied. — Her state of pregnancy, hormonal bursts, and other related changes in thinking and perception of information are fertile ground for sowing in her the seeds of doubt in the highest circles of the New Republic government. Already now, realizing the powerlessness of her position, she is beginning to look for the "guilty" in her situation. The uncertainty of what happened, coupled with Fey'lya's political ambitions, makes him, according to my calculations, the most suitable candidate for "traitor in high places." While she is pregnant, she is easily susceptible to various kinds of threats and half-truths. Which we will use.

— The main thing is not to overdo it with the processing, — I said. — She is pregnant, but not deprived of intellect. In addition, she will not exist in such a position forever. Continue to use hints and half-truths. The princess will draw the necessary conclusions herself.

— In my opinion, it would be more correct to isolate her from other high-ranking prisoners, — Astarion admitted.

— In the case of repressive interrogation methods, yes, loneliness would break her psyche. But I need her to be sane. Continue to process the princess, demonstrating a reasonable attitude towards her and our opponents. Sow the seeds of doubt in her about the adequacy of the continuation of armed confrontation. This will not succeed immediately, but we will reinforce the idea that we are fighting exclusively with the military and criminals, civilians are not of interest to us.

— And what to do with the other prisoners? — the lieutenant colonel of the ISB inquired. — Karrde, Calrissian, the Wookiee?

— Keep the last two away from the terminals with information and do not allow them to see the sky, especially the night sky, — I said. — They should not see the star pattern until the necessary map in the observatory is ready.

— Our pilots have already begun to model the night sky of Sluis Van IV, — Astarion said. — During the arrival of the next caravan from the prince-admiral, I will go to the planet to personally control all the changes and the correspondence of the model to the original. However... sir, sorry, but I don't understand why we continue to mislead her. According to your words, you intend to meet with her and talk...

— Of course, — I smiled. — Immediately after the New Republic finds out that there are their prisoners of war in the Sluis Van Hegemony, including Leia Organa-Solo, who will be tortured by order of Prince-Admiral Krennel.

— The New Republic will not leave it at that, — the lieutenant colonel's hologram shook its head.

— Of course not, — I smiled. — After they become suspicious of Krennel's participation in the attack on Hast, General Lando Calrissian and the Wookiee Chewbacca will heroically escape from captivity and tell about the prison on Sluis Van IV, the New Republic fleet will visit Krennel to restore justice.

— And we will be there to put an end to the conflict, — Astarion said understandingly. The counterintelligence devil is quick to grasp things.

— That's right, Lieutenant Colonel, — I said. — We will solve two problems at once. And with the help of the princess you processed, we will not only receive certain preferences in the exchange of prisoners with Coruscant, but also send our man to the New Republic government, so that one cunning Bothan will not be able to properly strengthen himself at the top.

— In this operation, many things can go wrong as we plan, — Astarion said.

— That is why there is always a backup plan, — I said. — And a backup for the backup...

— What will be the instructions regarding Niles Ferrier and Talon Karrde? — the counterintelligence agent inquired.

— Squeeze everything we need out of them, — I said. — Get rid of the hijacker, he knows too much. And "The Claw"... He will still play his role in the backup plan to undermine the faith of the population of the New Republic in their government. Do not pity him, but keep him alive until a escape is staged for him. But first, I will strike at the military personnel of the New Republic at the Hast shipyards.