Nine years, four months and nineteen days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or forty-fourth year, four months and nineteen days after the Great Resynchronization.
The distance between the planets Myrkr and Weyland is just under three hundred and fifty light-years. And you can cover it relatively quickly by the standards of a galaxy far, far away—in a few days if you press it.
"I will order you to move at maximum speed," Captain Pellaeon voiced his decision.
"There is no need for such haste," I said, settling into a chair on the bridge of the Chimera. The green surface of Myrkr slowly floated before my eyes. The world we are leaving today but not forever. "Weyland has been waiting for us for many years; it will wait a few more days."
"Of course, Grand Admiral," while Lieutenant Tschel and the troops on the surface, with the help of Karrde's people, collected the Ysalamiri and delivered them aboard the Star Destroyer, I had plenty of time to familiarize myself with the military regulations of the Galactic Empire. And I must pay tribute to those who created them—they are written extremely accurately, as befits a document regulating the activities of military organizations. There are no double interpretations; everything is clear, understandable, and effective. You look at what is written and feel filled with faith in order, clarity of organization, and...
And all this is in the past.
Career military personnel with extensive experience in fighting make up just over forty percent of the modern armed forces of the Imperial Remnant. The crews of starships are made up of newcomers who have just graduated from various educational institutions of the Imperial Armed Forces. It is clear that their effectiveness is slightly above zero. Now some of Thrawn's actions to increase the coordination of the forces subordinate to him become clear.
Along with the elite of the army and navy who have died in recent years, many military traditions, diligence, and much more have remained in the past. Now it is clear why the Imperial Navy, which in its best years numbered millions of warships—from Super Star Destroyers, destroyers, to gunboats and auxiliary vessels—fell into decay so quickly. After the death of Palpatine, in the hands of ambitious military leaders who had the same plans as I do now—to build their own states—they found themselves with trained military personnel, a sea of equipment, and a desire to fight. It is not surprising that during five years of incessant civil strife, the Imperials, on their own, destroyed everything they had.
It's a pity that this happened, but there is no point in being sad about it—what happened is gone. We have to deal with what we have now.
"Tell me," Pellaeon said quietly to me, "do you really think that Karrde will want to work for us?"
"On the contrary, captain," I said. "Our mission had as its goal exactly the opposite."
"Sorry?" Pellaeon widened his eyes. "I thought that we just needed his help..."
"And we got what we needed from Karrde," I pointed to the metal cage in which Ysalamiri sat on a perch made of her favorite wood. For Chimera technicians, assembling such devices was not a troublesome task. And now almost all lizards have become the owners of their own cozy houses. "Otherwise, he can only cause problems."
"From a simple smuggler?" Pellaeon expressed skepticism.
"Don't underestimate this kind of intelligent contingent," I said. "Karrde is not only a supplier of goods but also a trader of information. Highly respected in his community. If necessary, he will be able to organize all this rabble, not dangerous in itself, but huddled in a flock... They can hinder us."
"Then perhaps the problem should have been solved radically?" the captain clarified. I winced. In fact, the regulations of the Empire did not provide for such free communication between senior officers. But too much time has passed since the letters of the law were fulfilled to the last dot. However, I couldn't help but give Pellaeon a fiery gaze; I had to remind him of his subordination. The captain, in general, is a smart man; he immediately understood what was happening. "Admiral, my gunners can raze his base to the ground in a couple of minutes, and the rest will be finished off by ground units..."
"You didn't listen to me carefully, captain," there's no point in even reacting negatively to the officer's words. Pellaeon thinks within the limits of his knowledge. If he knew what I know, in particular, what role he could play in the future of the events known to me, he would not be so categorical. "Karrde is in some ways the unofficial leader for most smugglers. Previously, this entire process was led by Jabba the Hutt from Tatooine, but he was killed by the rebels. The criminal empire found itself without a leader. Everyone stole as much as he managed and his competitors allowed. But Karrde is the first among them. He supplies them with work and organizes transportation. An ideal intermediary between performers and customers. This means that if something happens to him under the current circumstances, the entire criminal world will turn against us. Of course, if we are directly involved in his problems."
"And we didn't cope with this," Pellaeon stated confidently.
"Remind you that the Empire was crushed by a group of ragamuffins who had barely four squadrons of fighters and obsolete bombers by the time of the Battle of Yavin?" I looked at the commander of the Chimera. "Perhaps we should stop underestimating the enemy? And then we will win."
Pellaeon remained silent, clearly considering my words.
"Sir," he broke the silence. "But then what do you intend to do with Karrde?"
"To destroy his organization, forcing his own associates to turn away from him," I explained. "You see, captain, Karrde positions himself as a neutral party. But that doesn't happen. He has already chosen those with whom he sympathizes, and, unfortunately, it is not us. He needs the empire only to conduct his affairs, but in his heart, he is on the winning side. And he considers rebels as such. The disorganization of the New Republic allows smugglers to find holes in the law and opportunities to continue their activities. It's hard to believe, but even we are now dependent on them. Smugglers have access to our territories; they deliver cargo, food, and luxury goods to our planets. They know our defense systems and loopholes, which they will definitely take advantage of if we just push them to the wall. Therefore, as an organized force with clearly defined goals and a clearly identified leader, they are a threat to us. But when they are divided into numerous groups, each of which pursues only a single goal—their own profit—these are acceptable methods of cooperation for us."
"Are you hoping that Mara Jade will play a role in the breakdown of Karrde's organization?" the captain suggested.
"That's unlikely," I sighed. "Mara Jade is an asset of a different kind. She has an exaggerated sense of gratitude to those who are significant to her and help in difficult times—and therefore she believes in Karrde and his ideals. Our meeting planted seeds of doubt in Jade's mind. Talon will continue to seek information about Jade's past. His employees, having learned that it is well known to the highest officers of the Empire, will begin to grumble and assure him of the riskiness of maintaining such an asset. And Jade herself not only received the first call that her employer is not as clean as he wants to seem, but she will not calm down until she satisfies her curiosity—until she finds out everything about Karrde."
"Do you think he has something to hide?" asked Pellaeon.
"A smuggler? Who trades with both the Empire and the New Republic but carefully pretends that he is equally indifferent to all sides of the conflict, but provides his services on credit to the rebels, but not to us?" I clarified. "I'm sure of it. However, the question is how far this will serve our purposes."
"Do you want to lure Mara Jade to our side?" Pellaeon understood. "Since she's an idealist, can Karrde's dirty laundry force her to leave him and hand over his secrets to us?"
"Bravo, captain," I smiled. "Yes, this interesting young woman is an extremely valuable acquisition for us. But no, as soon as she leaves Karrde, he will diligently hide all his secrets and change locations. He is smart enough not to fall for such simple traps. No, all this artisanal bravado should serve many purposes. And, given that Karrde is sufficiently aware of my personality, as is Mara Jade, then both will certainly think about it—if it was done so crudely, then is there some kind of catch? And if Karrde, not finding confirmation of his speculations, calms down, then Mara Jade will never."
"Sorry, but I don't understand what use it will have," admitted the Chimera commander.
"She is the former Hand of the Emperor," I explained, noticing how the officer's eyes widened. "An elite agent of the ruler himself. The one that hunted unscrupulous imperial officials, officers, and other threats to the Galactic Empire. Her qualifications are higher than those of various types of army or naval special forces units that are under our command. To implement what I have planned, I need a lot of time, money, and all the resources that we can possess. And you don't always have to wave your flag if you want to achieve your goals. Therefore, where we do not work by force, it will be by cunning."
"If she joins us," Pellaeon clarified.
"Not 'if,'" I clarified. "'When.' Give her time, captain. Her worldview, everything she values is all connected with us. Once the strings tying her to Talon Karrde are broken, she will return. Of course, you shouldn't trust her right away. Or perhaps it's not worth it at all. But this will become clear over time. Well, now," I turned the chair so that I could see the bridge watch. "Order to set a course for Weyland. The time has come to forge our victory, captain."
"Yes, Grand Admiral," Pellaeon answered briskly, heading towards the 'pits.'
Smiling furtively, I rose from my chair. Nodding to Rukh to follow me, he headed to his cabin.
** The bridge of an Imperial Star Destroyer **