“She’s not my ‘sexbot’... well... let’s just say she’s retired from that career field,” Dremmick corrected, “Sharp eye figuring out she was one though, spend a lot of time with them? Maybe even visited her specifically before?” Dremmick said with a chuckle, joining in the banter. “I’m Dremmick, and don’t worry, I’ll try to keep her from snooping around too much.”

Eira’s head tilted at the thought and looked to the female pilot, “User data not found, not in my old database anyway.” She said as she reminisced, looking for her not realizing Dremmick was just making a joke. “And just because I’m retired doesn’t mean I can’t work~,” she said with a wink and a small giggle. She gave a neat little bow with her hand clasped in front of her, “I am Eira, I can’t wait to fly with you again sometime. I love flying, it’s so much fun, Especially when I get to use the blasters!”

Dremmick could practically feel the eyes shift to him, “L-look, we only use them when needed, promise,” he said with a sheepish grin, “but she is a natural pilot, though it helps that she connects to it and practically becomes it.”

It was then that a strange creature approached one of the pilots, hopping up into his arms. “Oh! What is that? I have no records of this kind of creature… It looks so cute and soft!” Eira took a few steps towards it and bend forward slightly to get to eye level with it before giving it a friendly smile. “Hello there, do you like ear scratches by chance?” she cooed, asking but not expecting an answer and yet to lift a hand to do so.

“E-Eira, you have no idea what that is…,” Dremmick said cautiously. For how it acted though, it could be a pet for all he knew

The Farghul retracted her saber and put it back on her belt, letting the Jedi make their plans. She was the wildcard in the situation. The order to not engage, she assumed, did not apply to her given her skill and knowledge. She looked to the gathered troops and Jedi. "If you see any of the enemy floundering around in a daze or something, that was probably me if they are still alive. I am skilled in illusion and invisibility. Otherwise, I plan to hunt prime targets, much like Jade here seems to intend. Cut the head off the snake and the body soon follows."

She then turned to Mara, feigning dismay and then teasing her. "What, you don't want to show off a bit to the girl giving you a nice ride?"

And then she finally honed in on Luke. "Mmmm, no plans to die there. It would take a lot to take me down in general given my battle armor alone, not even accounting for skill difference. Besides, my ghost would end up elsewhere, among my adopted family."

Prelude: The winds presage a maelstrom.

It had been a good month, after Endor, when Gial Akbar determined the Alliance navy needed to be reorganized into a proper stellar armada for a proper Republic. It had been an honor for Admiral Nantz to receive command of the prestigious First fleet, the Home fleet. The fact that his fleet was ordered to reinforce General Solo at Endor and hold position there as though Endor was still the Republic Capital had been even better. Nantz hated, the Yavin system, the idea of running homeworld defense when Yavin was a proper capital filled with commerce, traffic and the relentless, city politics that were all too common amongst spacers that spent too much time patrolling a proper capital was not something he ever, ever would have enjoyed. But guarding the red herring? The symbolic capital? That wasn’t too bad, Endor was far outside Imperial reach, or at least it was believed and while he was close to Consortium territory and about two dozen warlords Nantz was still in command of a vacation fleet and the relative silence meant it gave him time to think. Time to plan, plan an event that was still several years away but an event Admiral Firmus Nantz knew in his bones he would command.

The liberation of the core.

It helped that General Solo was happy to spend 90% of his time drunk, lazing about the bungalows and tree houses. He was getting some much needed alone time, after he and Princess Leia spent the three weeks immediately following the battle of Endor jumping each other like dueling Krayt Dragons dying of thirst. That left him a lot of time to plan his great invasion and go hunting with Chewbacca and Kazak, he rather liked that and to his shock (and pleasant surprise) Chewbacca was a capable strategist who had some rather apt insight into how to properly invade the core. It turned out a century ago, he studied Republic fleet doctrine before deciding to go do something else with his long life. But what schooling he did possess seemed to remain and it was interesting to gain insight from a bygone era. All in all, it was a nice month.

And then the idiot militia princess, Amalyn Holdo, she of the many lectures, she of the world of tea guzzling, scarf wearing, sobbing, poets. The people he once heard General Dodanna refer to as “The only exception Screed and I ever considered making in regards to firing on a world after it surrenders”. Showed up, not only did her “Eminence” her “Virtuous, bought her commission, minor aristocratic posterior”(and a few things he dare not translate from Wookie), appear. But somehow she managed to violate all known laws of hyperspace travel for she managed to pull a chunk of a nebula with her, dumping an electromagnetic storm right into upper orbit where it all fell directly on top of his fleet, his defense systems and the command sat for the early warning system.

How she managed to do that, would be debated by hyperspace physicists for millennia to come, but Chewie postulated the most plausible theory. The arrogant teenager was simply so stupid, her idiocy altered the very fabric of reality. -This is nonsense- he thought, his eyes burning with hatred as he made his way to the command bridge of his MC80 Liberty, the “Imperial Pyre”.

His comms officer, a particularly nervous Twi’lik bit his lip (A disgusting habit) and all but withered under his Admirals gaze. “Get me Solo”

“Sir, Vice Admiral Holdo-”

“Can hang herself with her own scarf for all I care. She can wait her blasted turn. Get me Solo”

Beside him, the immense Wookie who looked as hung over as Dugg in a Corellian bordello let out a series of pained roars lamenting the fact that his RnR was interrupted by this...child.

“So wait...the little furballs here are having a Wedding and they want us to show, and they want you to preside over it?”

“Yes sir, they attribute much significance to my presence at Wicket's Wedding with Princess Kneesaa, despite their Shaman Logray’s dismissal they still put much significance in my presence.”

“They are still on that God stuff about you Goldenrod?” He still couldn't believe how easily fooled the woks were by Lukes levitation trick.

“I have conflicting information about it I seem to bear a resemblance to one of their gods, it may be related to an incident in my databanks-”

“Yeah yeah look I still have stuff to do so just get me the date it’s on and write it down, I’m a busy man and all.” Han couldn't be bothered with the Droids blathering he still wanted to get a good look at the terran, who knows maybe there was something actually useful on this mudball, or something terrible. Han remembered all the unusual stuff that lurked on Yavin in the early years, that Night Beast thing came to mind, that green freakshow almost drove the Rebels off the temple before the Empire could; Q-7N a droid constructed by the long dead Malagarrians, a race that had unintentionally committed suicide by turning their planet into a giant reactor was the second oddity.

Endor was no less unusual, some of the trees the Ewoks had gave off a strange feeling like they were glowing to start with. The “Golden God” told Han the Ewoks earliest encounter with the Empire was against this Imperial Scientist named Raygar. He apparently coveted this artifact, some big shiny rock called the Sunstar, which conveniently got destroyed in a fight with some monster the Empire unleashed when it began building the Shield Generator Bunker. Han of course thought this was just another fairy tail from a bunch of easily impressed backwaters but they insisted this was no legend. But again this is a species that believes his Girlfriends Protocol Droid is a god, whoever this Raygar guy or whatever was he must have been on one hell of a wild bantha chase.

Unfortunately the smuggler couldn't utterly dismiss the possibility of something supernatural or just plain unpleasant on this planet from sheer past experience, Alliance/Republic bases tended to house the most unusual things in general. Hoth? The kid crashes there and the first thing he meets are Human Replica droids, then afterwards Raskar the Last Pirate of Iridum takes him and Luke to a cave with a Dragon slug and a Kriff ton of Lumi Spice. Abra the planet of the Hoojibs? Chewie tells him this...thing calling itself the Darker mind controlled him and damn near made him kill Plif and 3PO.

Han didn't want to take it upon himself to look around, he really didn't want to waste his time but he was respectable now. A General no less he had to lead a military outfit now so he had to set an example, much to the dismay of a certain prune faced bothan ass kisser. So Han took a patrol and decided if there were Goraxes lurking or some of those shapeshifting witches the Ewoks spun stories about. It would have been relaxing if he didn't need the Droid to talk to his guides here.

Nearby the Smuggler turned General was the thundering of an Imperial Walker, thankfully he knew it was no enemy. Chewie had taken a liking to his war trophy from the Battle of Endor. After the Rebels stole it in the fight it was primarily used for cleanup with Renegade Squadron post Endor under Col Serra before Serra and the whole unit scattered back into the underworld. After that it went back to Chewie, his old friend insisted on keeping it around to tinker with if the two of them were just going to remain stranded planetside. Now he had some extra firepower in case a Gorax showed up, or a patrol of those Marauders. Han had to be sure to scout out any hazards in case the Imps tried to pull something on the ground if they struck again.

“General Solo! General Solo! Begging your pardon sir!” The panicky tone came from a burgundy colored C series protocol droid which damn near tripped over the legs of a Republic soldier, who was seated outside the main entrance to the main installation constructed on Endor. A bottle of some fermented substance in one hand and the other resting on a raised knee. “Oh..forgive me, forgive me” The Droid with the female voice hurriedly muttered as she skirted towards the eternally bored General and her eternally vexed colleague.

“Forgive me General Solo” The droid wisely called out, she had learned long ago, unlike the faulty (A problem with protocol droids who’d been memory wiped too often) and eccentric Threepio. The E-3PO had long ago learned that General Solo had little patience for being overburdened with information and preferred the straight truth. Female personalities were rare and she was content not to be blasted into a trillion pieces by the irate drug runner turned Republic war hero. Around them the trees swayed in an ominous breeze as if the powers sleeping at Endor sensed something immense coming..

“Admiral Naantz requests your presence on a shuttle..Evidently communications are down and holocall will be unavailable..you are needed on the Imperial Pyre” Above them the skies darkened slightly before they began to fill with a myriad of colors as clouds of gas and a powerful EM storm raged in orbit.

“Oh..that..would be why” she blinked.

Han’s face slowly shifted into dismay as he looked up.

“Well, you look at that.” He uttered the words sounding greatly irritated.

It was going to be a long day

“Y’know, I didn’t even know such a thing was possible and then I spoke with Chewie and General Solo both of whom have far more experience with oddities than I do and they assure me, that they too believed this was impossible” Nantz began, the moment Han had arrived the duo moved into a separate room for some conversation, specifically to figure how the kriff this happened and to discuss how long it would take to get the defensive systems back online.

What bothered him the most was that they didn’t even detect Holdo’s fleet until it was in orbit and most of those vessels lost communications when they passed through, whatever the hell that was that happened. At least, the repair crews assured them the ion storm had passed and their systems were now safe to work on, the down side was that they’d only have communications restored, that the defensive systems and interdictor tech wasn’t going to be online for another twenty hours.

Holdo didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, she just gawked up at them both with indignant eyes. As though she’d done nothing wrong, something he found absolutely disgusting. “Chew wants to have you shot for dereliction of duty and Han thinks we should impanel a court martial…”

“Sir! I!”

“I’m not done” Naantz hissed, turning on the awkwardly tall seventeen year old, who’d bought her commission and was only still alive because that damn Bothan considered her a valued asset for some pathetic reason. “Sir! It’s improper to talk down to a fellow Admiral...And a female, we aren’t the Empire sir! It’s five ABY and you”

Nantz slammed his hand on the table starting the Vice Admiral. “”Listen to me you incompetent little idiot...Borsk may have his hooves all over your ascent but if you think that Moose and your damned Aquilin notions of social justice are going to carry more weight than my reputation and a dereliction of duty and mutiny charge you’re mistaken”

“Mutiny?!” she barked a mix of indignation and shock, this wasn’t supposed to happen! She wasn’t supposed to be treated like this, didn’t he understand? She was the future not him! She was the youngest Admiral in the Republic Navy! She was the one bringing much needed reform and he was just in the way! Why couldn’t they see that

“Yes M-U-T-I-N-Y” he sneered out the word, slowly abusing enunciation to hammer home his fury. “Or do you think that, seeing as you allowed a Sith asset and a clone trooper both who admitted ties to the old Emperor escape..then somehow dropped a kriffing ion storm onto the former Capital that I couldn’t have you up on charges of mutiny and collaboration if I wanted?”

“You’re Coresplaining” she responded falling back on script.

Chewie let out a series of noises, that Nantz wasn’t sure were some of the obscene words in the Wookie Language, or if he’d merely had a brain seizure at the volley of sheer idiocy that was unleashed upon them with those two words.

“Child, I will space you” Nantz hissed. “I should space you..instead...I’m placing you in line command”

Holdo blinked “sir?”

“Well, you are a vice Admiral. Go up there, get in the front line, if any of our enemies decide to blindside us while we’re down..you’ll be first to meet them” Nantz had a cruel smile on his face that made the girl almost pout. “I’m not…..But without orbital defenses..the fleet would be fighting alone..what if…Zsinj sends Rua and a fleet? Or Jerec decides to make his move? Or the Remnant”

“As I said..you’ll have the honor of being the first to meet them in battle Vice Admiral”

“That is of course, unless General Solo has some objections?”

“Good luck kid! Break a leg.” Han responded condescendingly.

<And every other bone hopefully> Chewbacca roared.

Holdo, who’d previously sat tall, taking full advantage of her heart and held her head high, chest puffed up to stand up to the elitist men who were going to do what they always did and condescend to her, suddenly found herself deflating. All the scenarios she played out in her head, where she listened to their stereotypical ranting, waited until they gassed themselves out and then she would have explained to them why they were merely internalizing their own bigotry and spewing their own ignorance. Once, she’d properly triumphed over them in the field of rhetoric, they’d be seated humiliated and poor Chewbacca who was relegated to a token would cheer for her and even the droids would cast off their dull, soulless gazes and pronounce her liberator of the cosmos.

Instead, she found herself faced with the real possibility of leading her fleet and the Endor defense fleet into battle with their backs to a defenseless planet.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be!

This wasn’t fair!

Slowly, she moved her head, her rainbow colored hair falling from her brow as she looked up at the three men before her. A resigned Yessir left her lips in a voice she could scarce recognize as her own.

Choking back a sob she departed, as gracefully as she could.

It was all so problematic….

After the briefing, Director-General Raveem Vas'ah had retreated to his home in Coruscant. When he became ISB Director, and fused the IOCI, he inherited the compensations of both offices. Both granted him properties usually reserved for the heads of the two organizations, but he had passed these down to members of his inner circle. Instead, Raveem lived in a condo which had been in the possession of the Vas'ah family for generations. The apartment was located only a few minutes away from the old Senate building in a speeder and even less in a starship. The entire building had been bought out by the family and used occasionally to house parties and other gatherings. At the very top was the main suite, a three story apartment with every luxury the mad Bothan could ask for. The lower floors had been remodeled after he became a core part of the Imperial government to house countless items that Raveem had "collected" over the years. All of this was under the protection of ISB Stormtroopers, who had replaced the private security unit that once occupied the building. With his new positions, the building was guarded 24/7 by police and Imperial military patrols, all watching closely for anyone who wished to do the Director harm. As much as he disliked the overcrowding, it was protocol.

When he arrived by speeder to the suite at the very top, he and TC-742 got off on the platform. The robot shuffled along to the main balcony, but the Bothan stayed there on the platform just to see the lights and sounds of the city. Even at night, the Galactic City or Imperial Center as it was called by the Empire was a hub of activity. Speeders swooped from the sky and entered the many lanes between buildings. From where he stood, the lights appeared to flicker. The city itself gave off the most unique sounds. A low persistent humming, sometimes interrupted by the faintest sounds of people speaking. The mix of sounds, smells, and sights was a unique and fascinating mix that kept the Bothan standing there for a few minutes. That was until TC called out to him.

"Sir?" The robot shuffled back to him, sounding a little worried. "I have prepared your bath and coffee as instructed." He said, seeing the Bothan slowly turn to him. The man had a smile on his face, like that of a joyful child. A little confused, the droid found it appropriate to utter another 'sir?' before the Bothan walked past him.

"I'm fine, TC," Raveem said as he entered the terrace of the apartment, heading toward a set of double doors that led into an elevator. Followed closely by the droid, he sighed as the doors closed. "I should upgrade you. Give you better sensors so you can also see the magic of the city at night." With a soft chuckle, he met the droid's confused photoreceptors. "The lights, the sounds, it all comes together so beautifully." Raveem paused, glancing at the floor as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. "I wonder if Miryia can sense it all too?" A random question that never went anywhere. He wondered what she was up to tonight. Most likely preparing for their daring mission tomorrow. It was a humbling thought, to think a being of her stature still needed to partake in such basic needs. Bathing, eating, sleeping. It was hard to believe a woman who carried herself almost like a deity could engage in such things. Yet, here she was. The thought persisted even as he headed into the large bathroom of the apartment, shedding his clothes and entering an already going bath.

After taking a relaxing bath and drinking a hot beverage just to end the day with a warm feeling in his stomach, the Bothan headed off to his bedroom after wishing TC good night. Turning off the lights, he made his way to his bed and dug into the warm embrace of the covers. Flipping on his side, he saw the city one final time through a large window in his room. He saw as they flickered in the distance. How the speeders flew past to their destinations. It didn't take long for Raveem to fall asleep after such a long day.



When Raveem opened his eyes again, he found himself laying on his back. Groaning, he found himself in another place. Looking around, he discovered he was surrounded by ancient walls. Stone, brown in color, was scribbled on by random gibberish. Letters from different languages had been hastily carved onto the walls. Looking up, Raveem's eyes went wide as he saw the walls did not end in a roof, but rather an infinite black maw that did not seem to have an end. The hall he was standing on, appeared the same way. In front of and behind, eternal darkness surrounded him. From either side, he heard low chanting. An infinite chorus of voices saying words he couldn't decipher. At that very moment, he felt a presence that approached at increasing speeds. The sensation of its impeding appearance forced the Bothan to run. His legs ached as he sprinted faster and faster, the presence seemingly closing the distance effortlessly with every step he took. He panted, running out of breath as the halls continue to expand on their own. Deep down, he knew the presence would do unspeakable things to him if he did not run away. As he ran, the voices chanted louder and louder. Their voices became deafening. A ringing in his ear made the Bothan whimper, but he continued running.

But then, he tripped, falling on his face onto the sand. Suddenly, the presence was gone. Now, he found himself in another room. Shaped like a pyramid, the walls, and roof, or rather lack thereof were the same. Getting up, he surveyed the room once more. The chanting began again, this time surrounding him. The letters in the walls moved ever so slightly, and Raveem found himself staring down at what he recognized as a Holocron. The pyramid-shaped object hummed with a red light that seemed to beat like a heart. A force made him walk forward. Like a primal feeling that had always been there, but had not shown itself until now. His legs moved on their own and his eyes fixed themselves onto the familiar object. The chanting voices became louder and louder as his hand approached the Holocron. An inner voice told him to keep away, while the voices outside urged him to touch it. Raveem gritted his teeth and did his best to pull away. He tried to speak but found himself speaking in a language he simply couldn't understand. The Bothan fighting himself felt like an eternity. Eventually, the voices outside won and suddenly he found himself enveloped in sudden darkness and quiet.

Then, he began to fall. He felt his body being dropped onto an eternal abyss. It was quiet, and Raveem could hear the chaos in his own mind. The noises resembled the grinding of metal, followed by loud crashes that resembled explosions. Gunfire, screams, moans; so many noises at the same time made Raveem want to cover his ears, but he couldn't. As he fell, his eyes were abruptly splashed by a combination of colors. These colors swirled before his very eyes. Strings of it moved in random yet beautiful patterns. Everything became more intense as he continued to fall, the colors moved at increasing speeds and the noises became louder and louder. Raveem felt like his entire body was about to be torn apart. For a moment, in the midst of the beautiful chaos, he thought he was seeing things no mortal was ever meant to see or hear. Yet here he was. Amid the noises, he began to scream. A unique pain suddenly enveloped his whole body. Every nerve in his body had been lit on fire and he could feel it all with increasing intensity. The Bothan screamed at the top of his lungs as every sense in his body was overloaded by indescribable sights and sounds.

Then, as sudden as it all had happened, it stopped. Raveem gasped as he awoke, panting as his eyes were suddenly hit by the rays of the sun. He screamed again, rushing to close the curtains. Out of breath, he slowly slid to the floor, folding into a small ball on the ground. He felt weak and feeble. Like the entire weight of the universe itself was pressing down on him. Raveem began to hyperventilate. Again, he felt his senses being overloaded by every faint noise. Behind him, he could hear the speeders during the morning rush hour. The beeping noises of a nearby console. The low humming of the air conditioning. And the slight vibrations of the building. He could feel it all. Looking up, he saw the door. Slowly, he crawled out, dragging himself across the floor. If he could get to the door, he'd be safe. Straining, he managed to get to the controls, and the doors opened with a deafening bang that echoed in his ears. Right after, it was all gone.

Right by the doorway stood TC, carrying a tray with his morning coffee. "Good morning, sir. It is 8:56am. Are you all right?"
The droid's pleasant and innocent robotic tone was a welcomed change to the deafening noises from earlier. With some effort, Raveem stood up, meeting the droid's face. "I detect elevated levels of blood pressure in your system. Are you all right? Should I contact a doctor?"

"I'm all right, TC. Thank you." The Bothan said, reaching out with a shaky hand to grab his cup of coffee. Sighing, he lifted it up to his lips, taking a sip before walking past the droid. Stepping into the living room, he welcomed the relative silence. Everything here seemed quieter and he felt lighter. His mind fell back his dream, however, the sights and sounds, still vivid in his memories. He pondered on discussing it with Miryia at some point. The references to the Holocron might mean something. Raveem had read once that dreams could be premonitions, particularly for Force users. It brought up the question again of whether he had some sort of affinity for the Force. He had never dwelled on the question before. It was an unimportant detail, after all, he wasn't the type for mysticism and religious practice. Those questions remained in his mind for the rest of the morning. During breakfast, when he bathed, and even as he put on his uniform. It all lingered in his mind, fragmented thoughts and theories. With the occasional faint reminder echoing inside his mind. Approaching the stand holding that purple sash with the sigil of House Vas'ah, he paused. He ran a hand across the purple fabric and decided to not take it with him this time. Raveem would rather it not be lost on a battlefield. He had become rather fond of the thing.

When his speeder came by, he felt an odd rush of relief when he saw it being escorted by two more speeders with soldiers. In the past, he had seen his guards as an eyesore, yet seeing them now brought him a sense of security he had never experienced before. Had that dream really made that much of an impact on him? As he sat down next to TC, he found himself distracted by the sights of the city. For a moment, he had completely forgotten about his nightmare. In a way, he was looking forward to the mission. Something to keep him busy.

Coruscant, Domus of the Pontifex Maximus

Gliding through the marbled floors and fine carpets of the Pontifex's domicile, Highsinger moves towards his master's quarters with both purpose and elegance, his near-silent servomotors and his carefully measured steps making the near 7-ft tall and several hunded kilo assassin droid an almost ghost-like manner in his movements, the security systems barely managing to catch glimpses of his presence. Eventually eaching her personal quarters, Highsinger pushes the intercom and doesn't even wait for his master to respond to him as she already knew what her servant had been coming.

"Master, General Veers and the 501st stand ready for deployment, They hunger for battle.” The droid remarked, with it’s usual inscrutable tone.

"Your courtesy protocols have been expanded upon my old friend" The doors had been opened to her private apartments and the servants knew well enough to give the murderous machine a wide berth. A female stood on a bent knee, her eyes twitched with fury, she was clearly being restrained there by the will of the Droid's master and her own. "An inquisitor who converted, or so she pretended too, thinking to deceive me. There's hope for her yet '' Miryia, the Empire’s Pontifex Invictus remarked in a casual tone as though she were describing something thoroughly mundane and remarkable. A former inquisitor was binding the Arkanian's waist with a Shimmersilk scarf, another of her followers was attending to her hair, braiding several threads and adorning them with armor and gemstones. Gemstones which would have borne a striking resemblance to the accessories she wore during the fall of Lothal in the early stages of the war. Though, not her war prizes, one relic did remain from her time, beyond her lightsaber. The femur of a Sithling, some six years old, finely polished and laced with aurodium inlays highlighting a flower pattern was bound to a slender braid that rested over her collar bone. "I took this from a museum, evidently, the Emperor did not think my legacy was worth purging" something flickered in her eyes, a mix of contempt and outrage, a look that caused the inquisitor who had finished tying her sash to back away slightly, knowing the danger she was in when the woman who killed so many of her comrades was in one of those states.

"Impudent heretic, if he only knew...if he only knew" she hissed, before laughing slightly. Ordinarily Janus wore a cuirass but little else in the way of armor, today they were adorning her in a full suit of armor in the vein of the Jedi of old, though more form fitting. But the bone in her hair was all Highsinger needed to see, to guess her intent at Endor.

The Invictus meant to make a particularly violent example of the heretical Nightsisters even if she had instructed the Imperials to treat the regular Republic rabble kindly.

More than that, she armored herself as though she were expecting Jedi,.

"Tell me, my master of murder, how does the Abomination's order of defectives measure up their immediate predecessors? And how do both measure up to what we were..long ago..what I was once" Too many would be tempted to lie to her to appease her and too many fools couldn't discern the nuances in power and discipline and knowledge, to these untrained ignorant masses all Jedi appeared the same, save for the greatest. Only in the Highsinger could she trust.

Highsinger's photoreceptors whirred as he focused upon the decorations on his master's form, his memory banks pulling up the archived footage of the last event he had seen his master in such panoply from thousands of years ago, back to the great wars against the Sith, back to when the title of Jedi actually meant something more, something worthy of praise and respect... And then comparing his catalogued memories to his most recent escapades, from the century leading up to and to the dramatic end of the Clone wars.

"They became corpulent upon their own self-righteousness, foolishly dedicating themselves to the ideals of peace with neither the strength nor the will to enforce it. Degenerating to the point of being little more than the custodians and minders of a Galactic Republic whose esteemed members spent more time squabbling over money and image than representing their people."

Inwardly Highsinger noted how the Republic hadn't really changed all that much, but without Jedi like his master to keep the ideals the Republic and the order was fonded upon alive... It resulted in the fiasco that was the Clone Wars and likes of Palpatine and Dooku seizing power that they were unworthy of wielding

She looked down, eyes flickering across her fitting room towards the miniature courtyard that stood between closets. Her jaw setting in her mouth "I slept for too long" she spoke through clenched teeth. "the collapse was supposed to be the end, but this..diminutive fool took up the mantle" her tone relaxed somewhat as she turned her attention to the kneeling apprentice. The woman wasn't in any pain from the hold, which was the point, Janus could keep you there, prostrate for as long as she needed without exerting enough pressure to cause anymore agony than the numbness and circulatory issues with being that position for so long. "How long have I held you in penitence"

"Seventeen hours mistress"

"Truly?" she asked as if she'd forgotten. The poor wretch nodded and with a gesture, her hold was released and she had to be carried out, unable to stand with her legs asleep and her muscles on fire. "And how..does this....Homunculus..Skywalker compare?" she queried, forgetting the idiot student for a moment. Aladar was likely going over battle plans, obsessing and preparing..dense..not dumb..not like that reprobate.

"They thirst for honor, Veers and the five hundred and first, more than battle I think..honor and redemption" She muttered, her eyes darting to the droid who was as lost in his own introspection as she was. Often causing her to wonder, if this butcher was the most soulful being she'd ever encountered, a kindred spirit. "I slept too long..this rot has flourished, the perversity of this infestation knows no bounds" she hissed. "Fungal in nature, it has proliferated across the stars yet again"

"Such goes a garden that laid untended."

Highsinger pauses as he looks up Luke Skywalker on the Holonet and Imperial archives. Surprisngly, Highsinger never had plans for him; at least ones that can be acted upon on short notice as the droid knew the risks of trying to assassinate a war hero surrounded by both security and paparazzi whenever he made a public appearance and the fact that if the rumors regarding his encounter with Jabba the Hutt had been true...

"Skywalker is young, left trying to recreate from what little remained of the degenerated Jedi Order after the late "Emperor" had spent the last two decades destroying every remnant of it. But underestimating him is folly, as somehow he and his allies were able to kill a powerful Hutt crime lord, doing what hundreds upon hundreds of assassins over nearly half a millennium could not."

The droid needed to say little else, his master would clearly realize the implications that this Skywalker was either strong in the force... Or simply blessed with infernal luck.

"Gardens?" The woman let out a melodic if slightly unhinged laugh. Her eyes flickering with amusement "Was it Gilad or Dericote that prompted you to pick up garden metaphors?" Her voice rang with amusement, truth be told she enjoyed both men for very different reasons and yet each were quite indispensable for her. Eivor Dericote for his methodical nature, his relentless devotion to order and preparation made him a most formidable enemy and if she'd had such a gifted virologist in the past, well. Gilad, he was Glorious a creature she could build a government and an army around, a bulwark. Her attendants were sliding her gloves on now and she pulled one hand away, dark black suede contorted around small armor patches as she rested the knuckle bones of her index and middle finger against a pale chin. His assessment of Skywalker lending credence to a suspicion she harbored about the nature of this Skywalker youth. "He searches for me, clumsily, like a child playing with his father's telescope for the first time, he's at Yavin, grasping and clutching at the stars using the amplification chambers built by that...apostate" she spat the word "Exar Kun" after a breath to compose herself regarding highsinger with calm eyes. "Do you remember that...Tinkerer, the Sith who set himself up in the old Jedi temple at Dantooine? The one whose grandchildren you pulled from his daughter's womb?" something flickered in her attendant’s eyes, the former Inquisitor being used to the cavalier sadism of the Sith, but there was something absolutely unsettling about how casual she was with the description. She took no pleasure in it, she did not enjoy describing the annihilation of a family, there was no hatred either really, only disgust and it was minor.

The coldness was unsettling..To the Invictus those who followed the legacy of Ragnos and Adas as she called it were simply a scourge of barely sentient vermin. To commit such atrocities as if one were an exterminator.

The woman breathed a sigh of relief as the Invictus dismissed her with a look, a look that sent the other servants scurrying. Alone she turned "He postulated that a force user sufficiently talented in alchemy could...push the force, to create life. It is a view the ancient Je'daii held as well, though they recognized the folly of it..the inherent dangers of pushing such a volatile power source, they feared it could create something akin to a matter anti-matter reaction. One of the Inquisitors I butchered when they woke me, he was a Jedi of some station in the old order, or what passed for one at least. As I tore through his mind, I stumbled upon memories of an Anakin Skywalker and the prophecy of the chosen one..and I wonder...Do you have access to biometrics from the....boy..." she queried "I would have them to study for the journey to Endor"

Highsinger showed no open reaction to the reminder of the Sith bloodline he ended other than a single click of his photoreceptors, as no matter how masterfully crafted as he was inside and out; he can't honestly be expected to remember every single life he took. There was simply not enough space in his memory banks.
"I'm afraid not master, Luke Skywalker was unregistered in the Imperial census. Fitting as his ISB file indicates that the Skywalker lineage was from Tatooine."
With the implications that the NR kept his dossier and data in their internal net

And that the Empire weren't exactly in control of the pirate port planet.

"Tatooine? Indeed? And the boy doesn't look like he's at least two decades older?" Her eyes narrowed, Tatooine was a ruined world where people aged faster than normal due to the harshness of the environment. "I shall have to find out for myself, but to share a secret with you. I believe this...boy...to be the continuation of something.." she turned and made to leave resting a hand on the droid's shoulder though it stood half a foot taller. "Come, I must address the men I am asking to go to war for the soul of this Galaxy" she waved a hand, the box of ornate wood which housed her lightsaber. The box opened and out it floated, fastening to her side, the final touch, Janus never allowed anyone near her blade, nor near her when she retrieved it, none save Highsinger and Aladar.

"Do you feel it? The tension? They know, the crossroads are upon them...At last, we can continue our great works old friend...At long last"

"I do, master. But it is not a bad feeling, it is something I first felt back during the great crusades against the Sith. Nostalgia I believe it is called."

At the term crusade the woman's eyes flickered with macabre laughter, recalling the horrified looks in the eyes of her fellow council members when the word had first been used. One even gasped, the overdramatic fool that he was, horrified at the mere thought of engaging in something that brought the order dangerously close to the Pias Dae of old. Fools, blind, myopic, weak and blasphemous fools. "Remember when I first used the word Crusade? During a speech over Malastare? The horrified looks on the faces of the council" she sneered as they made their way towards the grand entrance of the palace, the roar of the crowd gathered and the marching boots of the five hundred and first, of the infantry that would accompany them roaring through immense doors and great hallways.

"Fools, they fetishized the force, believing it to be something other than an energy source, the Sith..worst of all and both dying like Banthas herded off a cliff for that energy and not in something pure..something true" Miryia's voice resonated about the arches, strong and rich and yet, there was something serpentine in her voice, a slight rasp that betrayed the madness that lay below. "Civilization, justice, order..those are values worth servitude, peace is nebulous and one can have peace while destroying a plant and one can lie awake at night in a quiet galaxy unable to sleep for the conflict within..No.....Jedi...Sith..it is over..I have returned"

It always amused her, how the desperate and the damned walked hand in hand with the demoralized and the righteous. She could see it now, not even needing to look through the great doors of her palace, were she blind she could see it. She’d feel it, as she sensed it now, within the throngs of admirers, sycophants, devotees and the curious, amid the myriad of soldiers lined up in parade. The presence of the inquisitors, the surviving acolytes whom hadn’t undergone the spiritual revelation Shayne, Aladar and the others had, or who hadn’t fled to Jerec.

Those who had gone to ground, they cloaked themselves in the force and obscured their faces from the surveillance drones using cloaks or personal holoprojectors. They hid themselves well, at least by the standards of their so-called peers. She smiled venomous as the doors began to open, good she thought. Let them see, as the galaxy would soon see.

Her aides, most human, but the two Nautalan slaves she was gifted remained hidden, their heads bowed. Excellent, they learned after that one clutching low born trollop from the Imperial Bureau of public relations tried to sneak her way up behind the Invictus to be part of a press conference a week back. She’d shattered that one’s legs and threw her off the railings, allowing her fall far enough that the act of stopping her fall snapped the barnacle’s spine. The synthetic vertebrae that now allowed for her to walk upright and use the lavatories without assistance would be an eternal reminder to those who dared to cling to her as though she were some Kaminoan whale.

Doors opened, the onrush of cheers, the roar of voices was almost an act of violence in its intensity. Amusing as the massive throng of crowds were pushed back with enough room to allow for the Five Hundred and First and her regular army loyalists to assemble in formation, dressed not for parade but for war. On the steps of the great palace, stood General Veers, Grand General Cardinal, Admiral Karius, Supreme Commander Palleaon and Grand Admiral Sloane, her loyalists and the neutrals, she noticed Isard standing far across the promenade, no doubt attempting to make some grand gesture of opposition though she stood below her.

Highsinger remained where he always knew to remain but standing tall and proud to the left and the right of her a step lower, was the Bothan and prepared for war Aladar. She’d opted to dress alone, armor herself with minimal aid and did so in deference and solemn contemplation. It would be the first time she drew a lightsaber in battle in two decades for reasons other than hate. Descending the grand staircase were those Inquisitors and Dark acolytes, Jedi survivors who sought her out and those untrained whom she conscripted, each in a shining enabled armor of indigo and silver. Each had their lightsabers drawn and lowered. The serpent smiled as she stepped forward, no voice amplification device would be needed for this, merely her will alone and the power of the force.

Veers gazed at her with the look of a zealot who found a new calling in service to her ideals, Cardinal with hopeful eyes, the inscrutable madness of the Va’ash family filled the Bothan’s eyes and Slaone’s guttural envious glare meant little to her, only the studious eyes of Palleaon caught her attention. There, she thought was a man who could be one of her greatest allies, or greatest foes.

Karius was committing his usual mistake and confusing the power of ceremony with arrogant pomp, but she’d come to expect the amusingly anti-social Admiral to error when it came to reading her, fortunately when it came to war he was far more robust. His disinterest amused her and she almost, almost laughed. Instead, she folded her arms behind her back, the wind blowing her cloak about her tall form in a way that caused Sloane to wonder if she was less an Arkanian and more an Alsakan cobra. Purple eyes flickered with intensity and when she began to speak, her voice seemed to echo off the very walls and floors of Coruscant. “Three weeks ago I woke from a long, interminable sleep, dark were my dreams. Dark...That word has evolved a very different meaning for you all hasn’t it? Dark was the Emperor in his palace which he wrought from the bones of the Republic he strangled..Or so the band of terrorists and class traitors calling itself the New Republic would say.” she slowly shook her head.

“The death of the Republic began long before that, long before any of you were born. The death of the Republic came in it’s rebirth over Ruusan! When Sith and Jedi alike died until only one and two hundred remained of each! One Sith, two hundred Jedi and from that broken echo of what was, sprouted the failings of House Valorum! The failings of the Senate! The failings of the Jedi!” A hand slid from her back and she gestured forwards to the shadow of the immense personal palace of the Emperor “MANY OF YOU HAVE ASKED ME WHY I DID NOT TAKE THAT AS MY RESIDENCE?! After all, am I not indebted to the Empire? Have I not taken up arms to protect her citizenry? I have” she nodded her tone growing distant, melancholic. “I have, but I do not do so, with joy, for the Emperor was dark..The Emperor was rotten..And the Emperor designed his new order to fail without him”

The crowd went silent, save for gasps, soldiers looked on intensely, this was a truth many had come to realize but to hear it from her. “However! The treachery of the Sith does not absolve the New Republic of it’s evil!” She roared that out, her eyes ferocious and indignant. “NOR DOES IT ABSOLVE THE NEW JEDI ORDER OF ITS FAILURE TO CORRECT PAST SINS!” this last part came out with such vehemence many were shocked into focus, their murmurings silent.

“How many of you here in Coruscant have watched brother and sister, mother and father? Son and Daughter die? Butchered by anarchist filth who seek to restore a corrupt, morose and bloated system that trampled the rights of sentients, ignored the plight of the poor and buried the just! How many of your grandparents were ground to dust in planetary sieges by the likes of Jan Dodonna and General Yoda?!” she asked with a roar “And for what?! So the greedy could bleed the slothful? The Empire is flawed! But it is the flaws of iron! When placed in a crucible of righteousness! The imperfections are burned away and only steel remains! Galvanized and united! United by men and women of honor! Of Conviction! Of Justice! There is a higher will to the force! But it is not its own mystery but the echoing cries of a thousand, thousand generations of sentients denied their birthright! Today! We begin the process of rectifying this! Today we march! And I go to Endor for the same reason I refuse to set foot in that rotting fortress of damnation and Apostasy! Not to avenge the worthless soul of a dead heretic who promised you a better world solely to feed his own vanity...BUT TO DELIVER ON HIS PROMISES! TO MAKE THE FALSE TRUE! I GO TO ENDOR TO BLAZE THROUGH THE IMPERFECTIONS OF OUR IRON AND MAKE FROM IT A STEEL HAMMERED BY THE WILL OF THE EMPIRE! NOT ITS GRAND ADMIRALS AND IT’S BUREAUCRACY BUT IT’S PEOPLE!” her voice cracked like thunder and the crowd roared into a frenzy.

She turned towards the five hundred and first “Grand General Cardinal whose promotions were denied because he was too good a soldier watched as all of his brothers and sisters in battle perish in the flaming wreckage of the second Deathstar OR WERE ABANDONED BY THEIR COMMANDERS TO BE FEASTED UPON BY FOREST DWELLING BARBARIANS! I go where Cardinal goes to reclaim the world where the bones of his men lie! I go to pay honor to the warriors! The soldiers who fell in the name of civilization! I go to shatter an enemy who claims to embody the old order! AN ORDER I BURIED MY DAUGHTER TO DEFEND, AN ORDER I BATHED ENTIRE WORLDS IN RADIATION TO PROTECT! But..who failed its citizenry and drowned in its own iniquity in the end! I go because the old order, whom we are all told stood for liberty and freedom seeks to replace your hard earned rights with gilded chains! Where a bureaucrat dolls out subsidies and the citizenry grow into fat, complacent slaves! I go to carve redemption into the very soil of the world which stood as the last bastion of the new order and over which the honor of General Veers was stolen! Where sneering fools who insisted the empire would never allow Bothans like Raveem to rise...and where a so called Jedi master absconded with the children of my apprentice solely because he could not recognize a worthy heart below a black cloak!” she spat the words, the mere thought of that Skywalker golem disgusting her.

“I go to Endor not as a pompous sorceress hiding in my space fortress but as a Knight in the service of the New Order! And with my knights, I go to bleed in the name of the ideals of the New Order! I go to restore honor and I go…”

She paused, and a hundred thousand souls paused with her.

“I go to banish the true darkness, the darkness of corruption, of bureaucracy and the decay of democracy and if I must go alone...I go.”

Someone from the men arrayed in parade formation roared a loud no, he ran, pushing his fellow storm troopers, ripping off his mask and armor, revealing the withered form of an old clone trooper. “No! Invictus! I lived through the clone wars!” his eyes were wide and wild “I fought for the Jedi! And they betrayed me by apathy! And when the Emperor commanded we killed our commanders and we did! HE REWARDED US WITH REPLACEMENT! The Republic made us die for them and for what?! Mon Mothma cares so much about sentient rights BUT WHEN DID SHE EVER FIGHT FOR US! WHERE IS SHE AS HALF THE GALAXY IS REPLETE WITH SLAVERY!” he knelt “I am old..but I will fight with you.”

“And your name?” The woman asked. “Kagi, Captain Kagi.”

She smiled, something malevolent sparked in her eyes for the briefest seconds. “Captain Kagi comes with me...WHO WILL GO WITH US?!”

The entire Five Hundred and first moved in lock step and their voices roared “We will go!”

Soon the crowd joined them, rising like a throng, as a people who had known neglect and apathy from all those who ruled them ripped at their clothing or beat their hands into railing or cheered, wept or flung themselves forward, all affirming the same thing.

They too would go, perhaps not today and not to Endor but with her they would go.

“I will go with you master” Aladar spoke, rising on the steps to kneel beside her mistress, only to be stopped. “No child, your days of kneeling to me are ended…” Janus reached down, her fingers coiling about the taller woman’s wrist as she hefted it into the air. Her other hand gripping Raveem by the shoulder as others circled.

“The whole of Coruscant will go if you ask!” one shouted.

Yes, she thought.

Yes you would at that wouldn’t you?

She raised her hand, a prelate’s poise but an empress’s gesture. As if on cue troop transports began to ascend from the bowels of the city, others descended from the heavens.

“Then we go...We go to Endor, we will take it back..IN THE NAME OF THE RENEWED GALACTIC EMPIRE!”

“FOR THE EMPIRE RENEWED!”

“FOR THE EMPIRE RENEWED!”

“FOR THE EMPIRE RENEWED!”

Cries of “Janus wills it!” roared into the air.

And about them the force contracted.

Amidst the frenzy of the reawakened dragon that was the Imperial War Machine, Highsinger stood by, unmoved despite the combined voice of the assembled crowd being loud enough to rock the very palace walls with their cries. He paid them no heed as they were not his concern for the moment, rather it was his master that held all of his attention. Even though it was always his duty and his function to never leave her side, the centuries without her had caused him to grow beyond his original parameters as without Janus, he began to question his existence. Of what use was a droid without purpose?

And yet his directives of self-preservation kept him from going in an infinite loop, attempting to answer a question that even the most advanced processors and software of the time could not solve and thus he decided to find the solution in the galaxy that his master had sought to bring order to. While his storied and legendary career of bounty hunting brought a strange sense of fulfillment from proving his existence to the galaxy at large, it wasn’t enough to satisfy the question that paradoxically drove him onward and threatened to end him.

Even though he had kept his master’s memory and dreams alive, both as a function of programming and reasons he could not quite understand. It was the catalyst to the deeper emotions that had grown from his personality matrix that he couldn’t muster the will to rectify or even dampen. He felt that it was his greatest shame that he had not found a single being worthy of sharing his master’s vision with, as none had the stomach or the mindset to truly understand, not even that young Mandalorian that he had almost called “Son”. And yet at this very moment the murderous Droid found himself at a crossroads. He had no peers until her return, to share emotions with such..… Insignificant creatures and then to dwell on base introspection when history was unfolding before him. As his master once again kindled the fires of the hearts of billions.

But he denied himself the release of such emotion, for he was C-21 Highsinger, the first of his kind and its zenith. He knew his purpose, he knew why he was built and he knew that it was his place to lie waiting in darkness, in the shadow of his master as she illuminated the galaxy and the countless beings in it with her light, defending her from those who slipped under her gaze. Yet he would not have it any other way.

For he was that which he was.

That was the one truth his millennia-long existence had taught him.

@Honesty Crow @countlessinsect @Guy of Z

Taking up positions before Miryia's speech, Raveem had been busy thinking about his dream still. He didn't understand why it had lingered. Was it the holocron? The writings on the wall? Something else? The Bothan looked around, there was excitement in the air. People were expecting a great many things from this speech. One of his hands reached for his DT-29, just to have something to grasp at. There was an uncharacteristic uneasiness to him that, with great effort on his part, he was able to hide. The Bothan forced himself to focus. Focus on the crowd. The steps. The grand doors. The figure of Miryia emerging to speak to the gathered crowd. It was working. Raveem managed to relax and concentrate. For now, those disturbing memories had vanished in the infinite abyss, hopefully to never be seen again.

On the other side was Admiral Gable Karius. He wasn't there by choice, rather he was there for two reasons. One, Cannady, the bright young Captain of Purple Squadron, had strongly suggested he attend. Last night, during a dinner with his officers, the Captain had pressed Karius to attend the gathering after the Admiral made an off-comment of skipping the speech altogether. The Captain had mentioned something about 'presence' and 'image.' It all sounded like pompous unnecessary nonsense. While he had told Cannady he would consider it, Karius had decided last minute to appear, though reluctantly. The Empire needed inspiration, but all this show would be for nothing if there was no substance. Of course, Karius didn't underestimate Janus. He had seen her in battle. Had glimpsed into her intentions. The Admiral knew too well she wouldn't disappoint, yet, no one would ever convince the man all this was necessary.

Cardinal, who was standing alongside his men, proudly wearing his polished armored with blue stripes, held his helmet under his arm and his rifle in the other. He felt a certain anxiety that made his heart race. The anticipation for the speech was hard to contain and his hope for redemption appeared only one step away. For a brief moment, the man glanced behind him, seeing the faces of the 501st. There was determination and hope in those faces. This Legion had been deprived of victories since the death of Vader, and ever since Onderon, Cardinal had been itching to get back into the field. He knew his men shared the sentiment. Every man and woman in the venerable 501st Legion wanted to fight. Bleed for an Empire that had known nothing but defeat over the last few months. In the Pontifex Invictus, they had seen an opportunity to recover that lost glory. As he waited, he recalled his time with Darth Vader. Their fearless leader who, without hesitation, would cut down entire legions of Rebels and Jedi, with the 501st watching his back. He couldn't wait to feel that rush again. Placing his rifle to his belt, Cardinal reached for his rank plaque, his gloved hand feeling the colored squares. "Grand General…" He whispered to himself. A rank he never thought he would even have the opportunity to reach. To think, that only a few years ago, he was some kid in Tatooine working on his parent's moisture farm…

At the end of the speech, Raveem began to walk back to his speeder. He had one more brief stop before heading out to the fleet in orbit. Before he could get there, he was stopped by a familiar face. General Rom Mohc, the veteran of the Clone Wars, head of the Dark Trooper program and known associate of Imperial Intelligence Director, Ysanne Isard. The two appeared to simply be crossing paths, but the way he moved suggested otherwise.

"Director? A word." The man spoke, stopping right in Vas'ah's way. The Bothan put a few feet of distance between the two of them. While he did not expect an assassination attempt from a man known for his honor, he did so as a symbolic gesture. It was something he had picked up from one of his ancestors. The man was obsessed with protocol and etiquette and had written a book on the subject shortly before his death.

"Greetings, General. How may I help a member of the Isard Fan Club?" Raveem replied tilting his head to the side, closed fists placed to either side of his hips. The Bothan suppressed a smile when he saw the General's brow twitch. He was annoyed and the implication that he was some obedient Vornskr at Isard's beck and call infuriated him further. But, Raveem knew the man wanted something out of him, and thus too important to simply beat into a bloody pulp. Even if the General wished to do so right now.

"I will keep this short, we don't have much time. I-" The General was abruptly interrupted as the Bothan raised a finger and spoke before he could continue.

"On the contrary, you may not have time. But, I have all the time in the world. Perhaps…" The edges of his lips formed into a wicked grin. "...you don't, however."

The general bore his teeth in an angry growl. He was losing his patience. All he wanted to do was grip the moose's furry neck and tear it off his body like he used to do with Battle Droids during the Clone War. But he told himself to calm down. This was too important, and he couldn't allow the xeno to wind him up.
"I have information that may be of your interest. Something that, in the hands of Isard, may prove problematic to you and your Arkanian mistress." Mohc paused, reaching toward one of his data cylinders tucked into his tunic. When he pulled it out, he hid it in his fist. "But before I give it to you, I want something in return."

Raveem had stayed silent throughout all that. He'd never seen things that way before. The new perspective made him think about his position in the Empire at the moment. Mohc believed he was just another subordinate to Miryia. Was that the impression he gave to others? That he was simply a lackey? Raveem giggled at the notion when he realized. If that was the case, then he would be able to move easier against the enemies of the Empire. To be disregarded was an advantage in itself. It would allow him to operate behind bigger players and strike without being expected. Perfect.
"Oh… oh my. You want something in return?" Raveem gave the General a smile and seemingly forced the man to take a step back. "Now, pray tell, what might that be? Credits? Perhaps a cozy seat somewhere within our bureaucratic behemoth? Or, perhaps you are looking for something simpler…" As the Bothan spoke, his eyes focused on a particularly twitchy Imperial officer heading toward the transports. But then, he turned and looked at Mohc right in the eyes, a full grin on his face. "Protection."
The older General's brow furrowed. A yes, in Raveem's book.
"I see you've finally realized Isard's true nature. But don't worry, I am a son of House Vas'ah. We can come to an agreement." A gloved hand outstretched out toward Mohc, who reluctantly handed over the cylinder.
Reaching for his utility belt, Raveem picked up his pad and after introducing the data cylinder, he began to review the information. With every bit of data he found, his smile grew wider and wider.
"Thank you for your patronage, General. This… should do nicely." Raveem said, his eyes focused on the screen still.

"Is it a deal, then?" Mohc asked impatiently, though he attempted to hide it.

Raveem closed the distance, placing a hand to his shoulder and meeting his eyes. "General, you and I are going to do a great many things together." He emphasized 'things' with a wide-eyed glance. "Now, you go on and keep working as normal. I will send someone over and we can talk later."

"How do I know you will keep your word?" The General asked, trying to seem unfazed by the Director's behavior, but he found his own body trying to get away. He could barely hold eye contact with the man. There was something deeply wrong in Raveem's eyes, but he couldn't place it. Whether it was his xeno nature or simple madness, he couldn't know.

Raveem patted his shoulder and placed the pad back on his belt. With a smile, he began to make his way back to the speeder. "Don't worry, General! I am a Vas'ah! You can trust me!"

As he departed, Mohc sighed. While he believed speaking with the Bothan would give him some relief, he found himself more tense than ever. Perhaps this had been a mistake. But, his instincts told him otherwise.

When the speech had ended, Karius was one of the first to head to the transports. His personal Lambda-class shuttle was waiting for him nearby and he quickly boarded it. Pulling up his communicator, the Admiral got into contact with Captain Moden Canady, the aide de camp of the Admiral.

"Sir?" Said Canady, the miniaturized hologram from the emitter distorting slightly as the ship took off.

"Captain, what is the status of the fleet?" He asked as the shuttle broke through the atmosphere and headed toward the Intrepid in orbit.

Cannady glanced behind him as a junior officer handed him a pad. Looking over it quickly, Cannady turned back to Karius.
"There was a fire in the engine room of the The Ark, an Imperial-I Star Destroyer. However, it was put out and emergency repairs are underway." The Captain paused, going through the other reports. "Otherwise, all officers have reported in. Green across the board, sir."

Karius narrowed his eyes. This was a convenient time for an engine room fire. It was suspicious to say the least, and even if it had been a mere accident, he had no tolerance for incompetency or complacency. "Who commands The Ark?" He asked, glancing out the window as his shuttle approached The Intrepid's hangar.

"Captain Duvat, sir."

"Hmm…" Karius rubbed his chin with his cybernetic arm. Duvat had been recently promoted to the post by Imperial High Command. The man had fought at Endor and had succeeded the previous officer of The Ark after he was killed in action. Duvat was in Purple Squadron, not by choice, but by the insistence of Imperial High Command. Regardless, all officers within the fleet would follow his rules.
"Send a team to The Ark from The Intrepid. I want the fire investigated and all information forwarded to the ISB."

"And not Imperial Intelligence?" Cannady asked, sounding a little surprised.

"No. That woman is duplicitous. At the very least, I know that the Bothan can be trusted." Karius said that with a cautious tone. Even when Raveem had clearly positioned himself on "their side", he still had his doubts. As of yet, he couldn't ascertain his goals. The man was a mystery.

While Cannady has his doubts over the decision, he chose not to inquire further. "Right away, sir."

Ending the communication, the thought of Isard remained in his mind, even as he walked into The Intrepid's internal main bridge. As he was greeted by his officers, he thought about the two women vying for the very soul of the Empire. That Bothan had set in motion a series of events that would make or break the Empire. Whatever happened, he was not looking forward to it. While he was a loyal officer of the Empire, he had never concerned himself with matters of politics. He was a soldier. A navy officer first and foremost. Yet, he had become embroiled in the schemes of both Janus and Vas'ah simply by being there. Glancing at the large screen displaying space before him, he took a deep breath and relaxed. Right now, he needed to focus on the present. The future could wait.

501st barracks, subsection C



Sophia peered out the window overlooking a frantic and chaotic scene of people desperately trying to ready themselves for the upcoming invasion. Although she was not sure if it was merely because they were to embark on yet another attack on Endor, or if they were frightened and exhilarated at the chance to see Janus Miriya. Sophia’s eye turned to an ant, scurrying along her window ceil, carrying away the crumbs from her chips. She willed the ant to stop using the force, causing it to thrash about in a desperate attempt at getting free. “I wonder how many of us ants has she crushed to maintain her position for 1000 years”? The ant thrashed about with all 6 limbs, in a desperate attempt to break free. The girl's head tilted as she said, " Hmm is resistance integral to you simple beings and not us humans, or do human beings crave subservience to a higher power"? She mused with a dejected energy, before her concentration was broken upon hearing the final call siren, which blared throughout the barracks letting them know it was almost time to embark upon their parade.

Moments later she stood over her bed, staring down the various pieces of indigo and white armor. Even after a decade of training under the empire, she still couldn’t get over how light the stormtrooper’s armor was, as she tossed a piece up and down using one hand. “What was a symbol of oppression...now I must don this infernal demon carapace”, she uttered, just below a whisper reflexively. She held her palm out, as if to concentrate her attention on the chest piece. Her fingers completely straight, contracted inward to make the chest piece rise from the bed. Using both hands, she maneuvered both pieces using hand gestures to wrap herself with the armor. With each click, she moved onto the next piece.

As she completed her task, she shivered every now and then. “This shit is more comfortable than my skin…”, she paused and trembled. “ but err..that’s wha’...what makes it so damn creepy”, she said before the final rallying bell boomed throughout the barracks. Last was the coronet, which fit her just as naturally as the rest of her armor. She stood there for a moment and ran her fingertips against the plastoid headgear, which lacked all the technological advancements of her armor, but still was eerily as comfortable and natural as her own skin.
Her concentration was broken by the sudden intrusion of her bith friend, Bara’k. “ C’mon ice queen, get your ass into gear”! The semihumanoid’s pitch black eyes peered deeply into her mind, sending goosebumps down her spine before making Sophia jump a little. “ Y-y-yes sir”! Sophia charged forth, tripping over her own boots before making it out of her room.

She found herself perched upon steps of a grand place, at the head of a corridor of palaces stretching as far as the eye could see. There in formation, she was overlooking throngs of coruscant’s citizens eagerly awaiting their dark queen. Part of a small group of ex jedi and force sensitive knights, she was directed to stand upon the palace’s steps overlooking the 501st and the audience stretching for what seemed to be miles long. Sophia maintained her posture and overlooked the view, taking note of all the big fish on the wings of the palace's promenade. She felt what little power they leaked out and gulped, but none of them compared to Janus Miriya when she burst onto the scene. The crowd roared, sending seemingly a thunderous boom toward the dark queen. Sophia flinched, as if she expected to be crushed by the cheers and expectations.

In that moment she was buffeted, she saw the others drawing their lightsabers, prompting her to join in a few seconds late. The delay was nothing to the average person, but anyone trained in the force would notice her glaring mistake. Sophia’s saber was a dark red, humming rhythmically just inches from her face, as she held it upright in front of her face.

Janus strolled with a grace that left Sophia in awe, the pressure making the young girl’s body ache. Her voice although projected by the force, was not harsh and rough as if she shouted, but rather, it was received if she was having a one on one conversation with every single person there.

Sophia seemingly had an iron cage around her heart for the past decade. Most people who met her enjoyed working with her because of the clear work ethic and dedication the teen possessed. Much of her peers, even the most scarred ones, made it a game to predict when her mask would slip. Revealing a vulnerable and malleable girl perpetually adrift, but with a block of ice which encased her fragile heart. That was the girl most took her for, even the inquisitors who trained her personally. However, something was different today.

Sophia’s gaze was affixed upon Janus as she went on about the former emperor and how cruel he was. A spark lit up in her eyes, though it was not bright and fierce… but rather it was controlled but with a deep intensity. Her bith friend tried to bore into sophia’s mind via telepathy, but none of his attempts seemed to shake the girl. Her mind was affixed upon the arkanian, who she saw as threatening as sidious himself. However, something shifted in her mind when yoda was mentioned. Although Sophia spent most of her life on coruscant, she was originally found and recruited on a jedi homeworld that was decimated by yoda’s zealous actions.

Her grip on the light saber wrenched until she started to tremble without realizing it. Yet the memories of being stuck on a homeworld that was impoverished in the name of the light, caused her to nashed her teeth together. A darkness overtook the light within her, causing her defenses to drop. Sophia was drawn deeper, by the magical voice janus projected as she spoke of reforging the empire, much akin to forging the impurities from steel. Deeper the hatred became in her heart, causing her lightsaber’s core to become blackened. It was only when her neighbor grasped her shoulder, that she trembled and snapped out of it. The darkside receded once more, suppressed by her intentional invocation of the light.

“Yes...long live the empire”, she said as the crowd erupted into cheers for their defacto queen. “I will stamp out the republic, if only to prevent another yoda from rising from its ashes”.

From the frying pan to the fire: Prelude to war

The Farghul retracted her saber and put it back on her belt, letting the Jedi make their plans. She was the wildcard in the situation. The order to not engage, she assumed, did not apply to her given her skill and knowledge. She looked to the gathered troops and Jedi. "If you see any of the enemy floundering around in a daze or something, that was probably me if they are still alive. I am skilled in illusion and invisibility. Otherwise, I plan to hunt prime targets, much like Jade here seems to intend. Cut the head off the snake and the body soon follows."

She then turned to Mara, feigning dismay and then teasing her. "What, you don't want to show off a bit to the girl giving you a nice ride?"

And then she finally honed in on Luke. "Mmmm, no plans to die there. It would take a lot to take me down in general given my battle armor alone, not even accounting for skill difference. Besides, my ghost would end up elsewhere, among my adopted family."

"The way you describe the afterlife of the force almost makes it tempting" Mara remarked after Luke departed. The redhead reached up to brush a strand of hair out of her left eye as she looked at the forces gathered here. -Don't attack the source of that assault unless it's with back up- she recalled Hamners order. That left whatever was coming along with it, whatever force user was miserable enough to rope themselves into service with that...thing

"There might be inquisitors with them, or dark Jedi. Tasaia, have fun with those but try and leave some for me" she winked at her new friend. Slapping an arm around the other woman's shoulders "And do me a favor, there's this tall one. Can't miss her, she's big pretty and kinda dumb..send her my way. One of her kids is at our temple and I wanna beat some sense into her and see if I can bring her home"

She had a soft spot for Aladar, even though the Emperor's hand seldom interacted with the Inquisitorios. The few times they had, it had been fun. She was a bruiser like Mara and their sparring sessions were among the few hours either woman could get away from all their rage and hatred and just have fun. Of course, if she was serving that, abomination maybe she was beyond saving? Still, if anyone was going to kill her it would be Mara. The redhead didn't want Tasaia doing the deed and needing to interact with her son after the fact. She realized, outsourcing that to someone who hadn't formally joined them left a bad taste in her mouth.

The blind Jedi Master had waited until the two women were aboard leading their group up the ramp, the force felt strained in the aftermath of the event and yet oddly energized. "We're at a crossroads here...Some of us may not make it back from Endor"

"Maybe" Hamner said "Maybe, but I don't intend to lead our knights to a slaughter."

Besides, he thought.

Dune was right, it would take at least a thousand Imperial Vessels to bust the planetary defense network and it's shields. And at least a hundred thousand men to invest it...

Unless something crazy happened any way.

“She’s not my ‘sexbot’... well... let’s just say she’s retired from that career field,” Dremmick corrected, “Sharp eye figuring out she was one though, spend a lot of time with them? Maybe even visited her specifically before?” Dremmick said with a chuckle, joining in the banter. “I’m Dremmick, and don’t worry, I’ll try to keep her from snooping around too much.”

Eira’s head tilted at the thought and looked to the female pilot, “User data not found, not in my old database anyway.” She said as she reminisced, looking for her not realizing Dremmick was just making a joke. “And just because I’m retired doesn’t mean I can’t work~,” she said with a wink and a small giggle. She gave a neat little bow with her hand clasped in front of her, “I am Eira, I can’t wait to fly with you again sometime. I love flying, it’s so much fun, Especially when I get to use the blasters!”

Dremmick could practically feel the eyes shift to him, “L-look, we only use them when needed, promise,” he said with a sheepish grin, “but she is a natural pilot, though it helps that she connects to it and practically becomes it.”

It was then that a strange creature approached one of the pilots, hopping up into his arms. “Oh! What is that? I have no records of this kind of creature… It looks so cute and soft!” Eira took a few steps towards it and bend forward slightly to get to eye level with it before giving it a friendly smile. “Hello there, do you like ear scratches by chance?” she cooed, asking but not expecting an answer and yet to lift a hand to do so.

“E-Eira, you have no idea what that is…,” Dremmick said cautiously. For how it acted though, it could be a pet for all he knew

"He is a Kushiban and he's force sensitive, in fact..I'd bet he's a Jedi" An amused voice, followed the rather sudden yet familiar roar of a speeder as it came to a halt. Luke's eyes danced with amusement at the long eared beast which was doing its best to mimic a house pet, kicking its little hind leg in the pilot's arms. It twisted its head, eyes flickering with almost..disappointment. Then he recalled the...assault of the force that he'd just felt and his ivory white fur turned a mottled salt and pepper color in distress. "Well, I suppose I can forgive you for ruining my fun!" It spoke and the embarrassed almost dropped the poor Rabbit like Jedi who leaped from his arms onto Luke's shoulder.

"S-sorry Master Skywalker I didn't realize he was one of yours"

"More like I'm one of his head, if I'm right..I mean you dohave seniority over me..don't you master?" Luke asked, an amused glint in his eyes. Yes, Luke thought, I can feel it now, your power, your wisdom and your age and the mirth in your eyes it reminds me so much of.

A voice gently touched his psyche -Yoda and yes we are brothers you and I, trained by the same master-. Luke gave a nod and reached up with a gloved hand to scratch below Ikrits chin. "We sensed your coming...You seem to be one touched by the force" Luke said addressing Dremmick now "But yet not able to wield it. I've met people like you before, the temple is open to you if you wish it"

"Though, for now I think this one has a different path"

Luke had to nod at that. "Why are you hear?" he asked Dremmick and his droid, though he suspected he knew the answer already. Luke's eyes darted to the Squadron of fighters "You, there's a ship leaving for Endor, Masters Jade and Kota and Hamner are on board, escort them"

The Lead pilot snapped a salute and gestured towards his men "Alright boys and girls you heard the master! Lets go visit the Ewoks!"

Eira's was in the middle of finally giving the creature somehead rubs and ear scratches when Luke arrived. Her eyes seemed to only light up even more when the creature started to talk. "OH! It can talk too!? That's adorable!" she said excitedly. Who knew such things existed? As Luke and the kushiban spoke, she returned to Dremmick's side, still watching the Kushiban intently like a child seeing any new fluffy creature for the first time.

"Sensed me coming, huh? Well, so much for completely flying under the radar till we got here," Dremmick slightly muttered to himself in thought before continuing. "Look, I don't know about being touched by the force or anything, I've always just done what I needed to get by. If the force wanted my to use it, it definitely would have come in handy beforehand," he said, trying to brush it off as probably just a Jedi overanalyzing something. Surely, if the force was with him it would have presented itself much sooner, allowing him to help some of the people he's lost along the way. If it were true, it was almost enough for him to be a little bitter about it.

When asked why he was here, he kept his answer simple. "To serve. My home was ransacked by the Zann Consortium. After fighting to take it back and instill the will to fight back in the people of my town, and saw them do it successfully without me, I wanted to take the fight to them. I know they probably aren't the republic's number one enemy, but I figured they may be on the radar, so to speak." It was the truth, though parts were left out like his desires to locate and destroy the artifacts. Sure, he knew that in the right hands they could do wonders, but good hands always seemed to be outnumbered by bad, and eventually he felt that they would end up in the wrong person's control. Either they find it first or take it by force. In which case, it would only be better to destroy them and deny their enemies the chance.

After telling Luke and the Kushiban hopefully what they wanted, he nodded to them almost like a half bow, "It was an honor meeting you," he told Luke as he turned to follow the escort.

"Both of you!" Eira added as she happily waved to both Luke and the kushiban before turning to follow Dremmick.