Chapitre 50: ...to each according to his need (III)
There he was...
I studied the relatively young man seated across from me.
Sergius, as he introduced himself—Ubiqtorate coordinator for the Morshdine sector.
Not long ago, he was an Imperial Intelligence operative.
And now he's offering me his assistance, while divulging some highly classified secrets.
And those secrets are far from ordinary.
"So, the Ubiqtorate has pledged allegiance to Grand Moff Ardus Kaine," I summarized, keeping my eyes fixed on the young man. He nodded in agreement. A man of few words, I must admit.
But also—he was focused, tense but not overly so, and constantly analyzing me. A dangerous intellect. I'll have to keep my guard up around him, as with everyone else. Whether this vigilance is temporary or permanent remains to be seen.
"Thank you, Bravo-2, for your detailed account," I said slowly.
But I don't like the way things are unfolding. If the leadership of every intelligence agency in Imperial space, without exception, has chosen the Grand Moff as their champion, they're no allies of mine. Yet, I must acknowledge that the Ubiqtorate, while maneuvering around me, left behind some valuable assets.
A full legion of stormtroopers on the surface of Tangren. That's significant—at least one of the fifteen garrisons remains intact. But... it's far from enough to defend the planet in the event of a large-scale assault and landing.
Woefully inadequate, considering how vital Tangren is as a target.
This is more than just a base abandoned by the Ubiqtorate. It's hundreds of manufacturing facilities on the planet, sustaining the Type II orbital repair shipyard drifting in its orbit.
And then there are the military supply depots—uniforms, rations, medicines, spare parts, fuel, and weapons, not to mention armored vehicles. Sadly, they're empty now. The scouts cleaned out everything that wasn't essential to the legion they left on the planet.
I won't say that the Ubiqtorate's actions, which effectively crippled the planet's defense systems, didn't concern me—after all, we can rebuild the garrisons, at least partially, using Spaarti cloning cylinders.
But what matters more right now is something else.
I have at my disposal, and under my exclusive control, a fully operational Type II orbital shipyard, capable of repairing and even producing ships.
This is a true gift, one that makes it easier to overlook all the complications the Ubiqtorate left me with.
So, what exactly do I have at my disposal?
Produced by the Kuat Shipyards, this shipyard, one of many once scattered throughout the Empire, is a structure resembling one face of a Rubik's cube. Nine nearly square cells arranged in the same plane. Each of these cells can accommodate a ship the size of a Star Destroyer. However...
** Imperial Orbital Shipyard Type II **
Only the central cell is fully enclosed on all four sides. The others are missing one "edge"—the side facing the exterior of the section.
Imperial ship repair and construction protocols dictate that the ship be docked parallel to the shipyard's "edges" and secured with connecting sleeves and special sliding rods to hold it in position. Imperial workers have often used this configuration to repair larger ships of the Imperial Navy by partially placing the ship inside the "cell," with part of it extending outside. Additionally, when larger ships required repairs that exceeded the cell's dimensions, the ship was docked to the shipyard's outer edges for necessary repairs.
And I must admit, I was in a state of euphoria at that moment.
Yes, I'll need to spend money to maintain this shipyard. Since it was previously under the Ubiqtorate's jurisdiction, the Imperial Ruling Council didn't see fit to include Tangren's upkeep in their budget. After all, scouts are expected to fend for themselves, right?
So, my preliminary discussion with the Imperial Ruling Council about the shipyard and base on Tangren left me feeling quite satisfied.
The base, the shipyard, and even the Victory-class Star Destroyer—are all mine. Under my control. Along with the legion of stormtroopers, the administration, and the Moff overseeing the sector—since Tangren is the only significant interest in this sector for the Empire. Fine, so be it.
But this shipyard... it's a genuine treasure. I was as excited as a child! Even though I knew that alongside the positives, the situation also had plenty of negatives. But first things first.
Equipped with a Class IV hyperdrive and the associated systems, the shipyard can be relocated to any part of the galaxy. Maybe not as swiftly as, say, a Star Destroyer, but still! The shipyards at Sluis Van, Bilbringi, and Kuat don't have this capability—they're stationary, if such a term can be applied to three-dimensional outer space. Thus, the shipyard can be "hidden" wherever I need it, whenever I choose.
The workforce consists of over four thousand skilled Imperial workers who have already begun inspecting the Star Destroyers in my fleet. Two hundred stormtroopers are stationed at the shipyard as a security force to repel any attacks. Certainly not enough to protect such a critical facility, but there was a whole fleet here before, and no one asked unnecessary questions. The situation has changed, and now it's up to me to ensure the shipyard's security. If the Golan II-class defense station, captured from the New Republic, can be installed here, it will be an invaluable asset—so significant that its importance can hardly be overstated.
So, I have a personal base with shipyards under my command, where I can operate as I see fit.
Not to mention that the shipyard has a remarkable invention—a crystalline gravity grid. This device can detect objects cloaked by an invisibility generator. In well-known events, the rebels attacked the Bilbringi shipyards precisely for this reason—such technology exists there too.
But, of course, there are negatives. When aren't there?
A shipyard can't function fully without three essential components—skilled personnel, a resource base, and spare parts.
The workers are still at the shipyard, and they have no intention of leaving—they're comfortable here, and the work is well-paid. No one wants to lose a cushy job because of a demanding boss. But soon, questions will arise—if the Ubiqtorate has left, who will pay their wages now? Unfortunately, no one in the Empire is willing to work for a simple "thank you" and a kind smile. Forcing someone to work without their will is a costly endeavor.
It's clear that I'll have to finance the base myself. Out of my already stretched budget. The Imperial Ruling Council has already "delighted" me with the news that, even if they wanted to, they couldn't allocate additional funds—they barely have enough for themselves. They also subtly hinted that the promised Imperial I-class Star Destroyer, which is currently being completed at the Bilbringi shipyards, might be needed elsewhere. They implied that I should manage with the resources I already have.
That leaves me with just over fifty million Imperial credits. Not good.
What's worse is that Tangren doesn't have its own facilities for producing fighters and interceptors—those are made by entirely different enterprises. That's a problem. I'll need to establish connections with the manufacturers to replenish my depleted fleet. Not to mention, two squadrons of surface-based TIE fighters are more of a joke than actual defense.
Tangren also lacks its own resource base—while they can produce armor plates, deck plates, and other ship components in the foundries on the planet's surface, raw materials are required for that. Ore. Which was previously supplied in small quantities by the Ubiqtorate, just in case of repairs. Where they got it from, and from whom, is unclear. Without ore, even minimal production is impossible. No production means no repairs. No repairs mean delays in getting ships back into service.
There's still a small stock of spare parts for some ships in the shipyards and warehouses on Tangren, but after the upcoming repairs, those stores will be depleted. New spare parts will be needed—you can't fight without them. But I'm not keen on rushing to Bilbringi, where all that is available.
Well, part of the problem can be solved by sending a convoy of Star Galleons there, escorted by warships, and requesting the necessary parts. But we won't get much—other Imperial fleets need repairs too. And no one in the rear likes to deplete their supplies, especially if it doesn't benefit them directly.
The bottom line is that my fleet has gained a Star Destroyer, I have a mobile space shipyard capable of repairs and construction, but I also have funding problems, resource issues, and troubles with the Ubiqtorate.
Because I refuse to believe they just "left" without a reason.
"Why did you tell me all this, Coordinator Sergius?" I asked, glancing at Captain Pellaeon, who was seated next to me.
Gilad clearly displayed a sense of distrust towards our guest. This wasn't surprising—there was an overwhelming amount of "Distrust" for the Imperial Security Service and Imperial Intelligence among the Empire's army and navy. It was unreasonable to expect anything different.
However, my primary concern now was the motives of this man, along with the Imperial Intelligence operatives who had arrived with him on the shuttle. Sergius was straightforward—he was still the Ubiqtorate coordinator for this sector, a title that had not been stripped from him. But why had he come here to lay bare the information that the Ubiqtorate had defected? Even the Imperial Ruling Council seemed to believe that intelligence had decided to "cede" Tangren to me as a fleet rear base, while they themselves remained "mobile" to avert further attacks on their own bases. It seemed reasonable—especially for Council members who were preoccupied with their own behind-the-scenes struggles.
"I don't want to be discarded, Grand Admiral," the man said plainly, watching my reaction intently. "The Ubiqtorate has left Imperial Space, relocating to the Pentastar Alignment. We—the operatives and I—were essentially abandoned. This is not how you treat those who have faithfully served the Empire."
"As if you would have done any differently if you were in their position," Pellaeon muttered.
"Perhaps," the man agreed. "Or perhaps not. They made their choices, and I am left with mine. Therefore, they have betrayed me and my operatives. I still wish to serve the Empire, but I have no desire to serve the Ubiqtorate's leadership anymore. That's why I reached out to you directly. You requested Imperial agents to be assigned to you. The Ubiqtorate refused. I doubt your need for professional spies has suddenly vanished."
"My needs are not the issue," I remarked. "The issue is your loyalty, coordinator. The Ubiqtorate never leaves anything behind that could harm them. Yet they left you and a group of operatives. It's a non-trivial action that raises more questions than answers."
"I agree, it does appear like they're attempting to embed their agents with you," Sergius stated bluntly, voicing the very thought on my mind. "Moreover, I'll say this—the Ubiqtorate has tasked me with providing them information about Imperial officers who have expressed a desire to serve under your command. Considering that all orders for transfer approvals will pass through encryption and decryption channels, it's not hard for them to gather such data on their own. From anywhere in the galaxy, from any Imperial Remnant."
"So, you believe they assigned you an 'empty' task just to maintain the appearance of continuing your service?" I clarified.
"Precisely," the scout agreed. "'Carry on as usual, but stay out of the way.' The simplest method to subtly eliminate an unwanted agent."
"Let's assume that's true," I nodded slightly. "But to what extent can I trust you and your operatives?"
"The fact that the Ubiqtorate is unaware of your requests to the Imperial archives regarding the separatists' army and equipment," Sergius said, catching me off guard. "All of your archive inquiries passed through relays in the Morshdine sector, and I was responsible for relaying that information to the Ubiqtorate. But when I realized that my superiors were planning their own game, I stopped forwarding your requests. They don't know that you were researching General Maximilian Veers' personal records, or about your inquiries into buzz droids and much more."
But these are hardly pleasant surprises. I would even say they're far from it. Even Pellaeon was looking at me with newfound interest. Another oversight. Only Rukh remained indifferent.
"Let's say that's the case," I didn't even attempt to justify myself. In this situation, any excuse would sound ridiculous. A Grand Admiral with the authority of Supreme Commander doesn't need to explain his actions. "In summary, you're effectively offering to work for me. This could raise a number of questions, including from the Imperial Ruling Council. Generals don't typically assemble teams of spies."
"In these times, everyone gathers allies," Sergius noted. "Grand Moff Ardus Kaine is no exception. So why should you be any different? Especially considering your recent military successes. I won't lie—every other person believes your victories warrant attention. Perhaps I'll surprise you by revealing that the Imperial Council is discussing the possibility of declaring you Emperor, to unite the Imperial Remnants under a single command."
I can't say I was terribly surprised—this part of the Council's maneuvering had long been known to me. They need someone to solve their problems, especially after proving their incompetence in military matters. It's not a desperate solution—one could even call it pragmatic. If not for the fact that I knew, albeit without specifics, that some of these same Council members would align themselves with the Reborn Emperor Palpatine in about a year, I might have actively sought common ground with them.
Now, however, searching for allies and like-minded individuals among the advisors is a waste of time. Besides, it might inadvertently reveal my real plans, leading to significant complications. That's not why I've been maneuvering like a snake, searching for anything valuable that can be snatched and secured, so that not even the slightest part falls into Palpatine's or the New Republic's hands. No, all of it will serve my purposes. Whether now or later, I will be the one to take these "treasures."
"No, I'm not surprised," I said calmly. Pellaeon's eyes widened. And who could blame him? When your commander—cold-blooded, pragmatic, and seemingly indifferent—receives an offer to become the ruler of an interstellar state, and he reacts as if he'd just been informed that the cleaning of the Star Destroyer's nozzles had been completed, you'd naturally start questioning his sanity. "The decision is logical. So, I take it my candidacy isn't the only one for the throne?"
"There are many contenders," said Sergius. "But you and Grand Moff Kaine are at the forefront."
"I see," I said. "Well, let's move on to more pressing matters... Captain, are you alright?"
Pellaeon, clearing his throat, nodded, signaling that I should ignore him, after all, who hasn't had more important things to worry about than leading a fractured Empire?
"Are you prepared to serve me?" I asked the Imperial agent. He squinted slightly, fully understanding the underlying implication of the question. Serving the Empire and serving the Grand Admiral may not be entirely synonymous. This choice required careful consideration, weighing the pros and cons.
"Yes," he said, with a slight twitch of his eye. Was it really that simple? A hasty decision, or... Yes, most likely "or." The scout had probably anticipated something like this before our conversation. Hence, the question hadn't caught him off guard. "I and the agents under my command are ready to carry out your orders, Grand Admiral."
"A wise choice," I acknowledged. "Your commitment will be noted. However, we have much work ahead. The first thing I'd like to hear from you is information about the Moff of the Morshdine sector and the commander of the Star Destroyer that remained in Tangren orbit after the Ubiqtorate's departure. Their personal traits, loyalty, reliability, and competence. I'm sure you can easily recall the old reports you previously filed with your superiors..."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone