The Hand of the Empress

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Star
Wars

THE HAND OF THE EMPRESS

It is a time of peace in the galaxy...for some.
The treaty signed by the GALACTIC EMPIRE and the
ALLIANCE OF FREE PLANETS has split the known galaxy
in two. Those within the Alliance have begun to taste freedom
for the first time. The subjects within the Empire are not so lucky.

An open intifada against the rule of EMPRESS
MIRANDA TARKIN has begun on the remote world of
POLMANAR. To serve as an example, the Empress has sent
one of her sinister agents, a dreaded IMPERIAL KNIGHT, to crush
the insurrection under heel.

Isolated from the forces of peace and justice
in the galaxy, the rebels of Polmanar face an enemy
unlike any they have ever seen before....

[Reikkel Orgern]

Baaspuar, Nyora Prefecture
Polmanar, Greater Javin
During the Spring Intifada



The Gods turned furious within days, and the sky became the color of blood. Everything burned. The crops, the livestock, the homes, the people. If this was the way of salvation, then what would remain of the people to be redeemed?

Sasthi cowered in the crumbled remnants of what had once been her schoolhouse. The young girl posted up against the point where two walls intersected to form a corner. It was all that remained of what had been a classroom. A sliver of structure that now only served to keep her out of sight from the dozens of clapping white boots just beyond it. She peeked around the corner at the sound of a woman's wail. A stormtrooper pulled her along the ground by her hair as she screamed at him, eventually hoisting her to her feet where she was shoved against a wall to stand with other people. Too many people.

She'd heard enough of what came next to never want to hear it again. Sasthi cupped her hands against her ears, squinting her eyes shut. No matter how hard she tried, she could still hear the shots. A chorus of murder in monotonous quick voices all singing the same word. And when murder wasn't indignity enough, there were the ones in caps and jackets close by to pilfer the dead of anything of value they carried. Not a simple coarse robbery. It was methodical. Meticulous. Treasures and keepsakes sorted and arranged. Filed away and impounded.

Sasthi turned away from one crime to another. A trooper set fire to a bundle of processed partisans, raking their murdered and robbed bodies with a flamethrower until it no longer mattered where one corpse ended and another began. The people became a community in death. United in ashes and blackened bones. A skull rolled free from the burning pile, kicking a trail of cindery sparks as it bounced along the road.

A deafening roar overhead caused Sasthi to redouble in her cowering, covering her head. She expected to be erased in that next second by the indiscriminate thunderclap of a dropped bomb. Better that way than like these people.

When it became clear that she wasn't dead, the young Polmanarian girl peeked her grubby, soot-stained face around the ruined cinderblock edifice. The smoldering skull was still there, grinning with it's frozen half-faced smile. Sasthi wondered who it belonged to. She hadn't seen anyone in her family in a day...

K-THONK!

Sasthi screamed as the metal foot stepped from behind the adjacent building, pulverizing the skull as it stomped along the road. She looked up at the towering walking tank on it's two legs as it stared at her with holes for eyes. It's guns trained down on her for a moment, then forgot her as streaks of red spat out from the rubble across the street. The walking tank turned it's head, and killed someone else instead.





* * *


"Target eliminated." The AT-ST gunner commented, watching the skeletal remains of a house cave in under the force of fire from his main cannons.

"Keep up the pressure." Captain Orgern commanded, standing perched halfway out of the egress hatch in the top of the walker. "Anyone remaining in this zone can be assumed hostile." He pressed macrobinoculars to his eyes as he surveyed the carnage that used to be the city of Baaspuar. In the distance, another TIE bombing run had begun. Entire city blocks fell to their foundations under the weight of indiscriminate proton bombing.

Just as the action platoons on the ground began to round up a fresh batch of partisans, three speeders burned around the corner of the adjacent street.

"Technicals!" the driver shouted, tapping the right side of the gunner's helmet to indicate the direction he should traverse his guns. It was too late. The makeshift attack vehicles sped by the troops. Gunners wearing goggles and balaclavas fired repeating blasters with tripods welded onto the backs of the speeders flat beds. Some stormtroopers were cut down in the fire. Others were caught in the open and were run over as the speeders danced away from the AT-ST in a hit and run. Captain Orgern trained his macros on the fleeing trio. Too far for his guns, and moving behind covver. He then pulled them down from his eyes, and spoke into a wrist comm.

"Bombardment order. Quadrant three. Grid six seven five to six seven four. Commence."

[Rolth Wygraant]

The crew pit on the bridge of the Star Destroyer Decimator was a quiet buzz of activity. With Wing Commander Karnel fully committed to managing the dispensation of his TIE fighters on the tactical board, the bombardment officers were working in fast coordination with comm technicians, receiving orders and acting upon them.

"Bombardment order." Technician Max Jarnaal pivoted on his seat at his terminal, tapping Gunner Stavus Wesk on his shoulder.

"Call it." Wesk replied, not turning to look at the Technician, but rather keeping his eyes fixed to his grid scope.

"Quadrant three. Grid six seven five to six seven four. Thirty second salvo, concentrated burst."

Wesk sighted in the requested section of Baaspuar city, feeding the coordinates of the bombardment order to the next available turbolaser batteries. A standard bombardment called for four.

"Batteries eighteen, twenty, twenty one, and twenty six, aligning to target."

The gunner waited for each gun emplacement to coordinate positioning before giving the order.

"Now firing."

Amid the sporadic bursts of turbolaser fire raining down from Decimator, a new volley flared from the destroyer's starboard gun row. Burning through the stratosphere and into the heavier atmosphere, the bolts of heavy weapons fire shook the ground as they impacted, shattering buildings and anything caught in their explosive radius. Sheets of fire lifted to the sky within the city as nearly an entire square kilometer succumbed to the onslaught.

"New bombardment command." The comm technician moved on to another target in the queue...

[Reikkel Orgern]

"They hit the market!" Grather shouted needlessly, as if no one else around him could see the splash of dozens of turbolaser strikes.

"Ryner? Calo?" Mr. Matasilu called on his wrist comm, meriting a reply of only static.

"Karabast! They've all been fragged." Another fighter assembled on the rooftop factory gawked in shock. Everyone was sure of one thing - nothing could have survived a bombardment like that. The raider speeders were certainly lost, as was anyone unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"They're gonna kill us all!" Wyjek panicked, clutching his rifle to his chest as he took in rapid, deep breaths.

"Take it easy, kid." Mr. Matasilu put a hand on Wyjek's shoulder. "We're gonna be okay, you hear me? We hold the line. You and me. We're in this."

Krasst, and he is just a kid...Matasilu thought. They're all kids. What in the name of the gods are we doing?

Thump.

Everyone paused what they were doing, almost questioning if they heard it.

Thump.



Thump.

The old man knew that sound. His jawline tensed as he glanced left and right.

"Walker! Nine o'clock!" the fighter spotting for the mortar peeled off his macros, screaming the warning down at the rest of the men. About two clicks away, a grey, bombed-out husk of a building revealed a threat that slowly and inexorably moved past.

It was a walker. Not the light all-terrain armor the Empire had used to soften up infantry on the ground. What was headed for them was terror on earth.

"GO! GET OFF THE ROOF! LEAVE THE MORTAR, GET OUT OF HERE!"

Matasilu only stared at the metal beast. He remembered from his childhood. The look in the eyes of a reek when it was preparing to charge.

This beast had no eyes, but it was looking right at him.

Matasilu closed his eyes.




* * *


"Target, maximum firepower!" Colonel Stragg gave the order in clipped military timing. Traversion and elevation were dead-on. Through his scope, he could almost see the faces of the insurgents on the rooftop.

KR-KOW!! KR-KOW!!

And then, where once men stood, a flash of orange that became a dull shroud of grey.

Pushing his periscope up, Stragg nodded.

"Continue the assault. Inform Lady Vissica that the way is cleared for her advance."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The doors to the prefecture capitol building were sturdy. Cut from old growth kalo wood, the beams were easily ten centimeters thick. Lovingly stained and carved, they served as a sign of the respect this seat of governance warranted. They'd lasted two centuries. In generations past, the same doors had been used to nail proclamations and edicts. The gouges left by the nails had not been repaired. It remained a sign of that age-old tradition. Though proclamations and edicts had long ago become electronic in nature, everyone needed to see the nail marks to be reminded that those in office once delivered them and debated them face to face.

But as strong as kalo wood may be, and as powerful a symbol as old nail gouges were, a dread certainty had reached it's zenith in Baaspuar.

Neither of those things would survive the Galactic Empire.

And if the Empire could kill indomitable symbols, then what would they spare?

Those austere, heavy doors blew into the atrium like ten million flaming matchsticks, stunning and blinding some of the last to resist. Through the hell of the aperture created by explosion came Imperial Stormtroopers, a tide of white that could crash upon the people of Baaspuar without ceasing. The fighters of the intifada held their posts. What use was there in running now? Each stormtrooper cut down in a hail of fire only served to be stepped over by two more. The atrium became thick with bodies. A slaughterhouse where men and women once governed each other.

The freedom fighters knew they'd lost. They'd known it days ago. This was only the protracted end. As the crush of stormtroopers within became inevitability, they began to secure the doorways further into the capitol. Beyond them, a looming figure approached in silhouette from the smoking remains of those kalo wood doors.

Lady Vissica surveyed the destruction. Two dozen of her own troops. Twice as many of the insurgents. The Selonian's dark eyes passed over each with the same amount of cool indifference. And just like that, she began to walk once more, flanked by four of her troopers, leading her further into the building where the distant sounds of blaster fire could be heard.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

By the time the Imperial advance had reached the office of the First Minister, the nerve of the resistance fighters had failed. As the final set of doors breached open with a flash of a charge, half a dozen guards laid down their weapons, joining the heads of state in placing their hands over their heads. Stormtroopers poured through the doorway, surrounding everyone in a flurry of clapping synthetic heels against marble tile.

The Selonian Knight made her entrance last, passing through the door as if she owned the building. Her gimlet eyes fixed upon the leader of the Baaspuar government.

"Your insurrection is at an end, First Minister Olmaer."

The First Minister looked deathly tired in his dirty suit. His skin was pallid, save for the dark under his eyes. A far cry from the firebrand on the local holostream who had helped to incite the uprising.

"What choice do we have, Knight? The Empire unleashed their beasts on us. If you are after my surrender, you have it."

Desperation wore heavily on the First Minister's face. He approached Lady Vissica with upturned hands.

"You've taken everything else. I pray this will satisfy you. Please...leave my people be. Give us mercy!"

Olmaer placed a hand upon the Selonian's armor plaintively, only to have the hand brushed aside by a webbed paw.

"Only the Empress grants clemency, First Minister. For your treason, I am tasked to hurt you."

Vissica's eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly.

"And I shall continue to hurt you."

Just as the First Minister realized that no mercy would come to his world, an Imperial officer stepped through the blasted doorway. He moved close to the Knight, cupping his hand as he whispered something unheard in Vissica's ear. The Selonian straightened her posture, then looked back to Olmaer with a low, quiet growl in her chest.

"Then again..."

A pink tongue slowly passed over Vissica's muzzle.

"...perhaps you are more fortunate than I thought."

With that, Lady Vissica turned a heel, exiting the office with no explanation. Four of the troopers hurried to move in lockstep with the Knight, who was already walking in stride with the officer who had delivered unexpected news to her.

"Bring my shuttle."

The scourging of Polmanar now seemed such a small thing.

"Signal my destroyer to expect me."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Lady Vissica's lambda class shuttle touched down in the secondary hangar bay of the star destroyer Decimator. The senior staff were assembled with a guard retinue, dutifully awaiting the Knight's return. They may as well have not been there at all. Captain Wygraant, Commander Karnel, General Tyffe. The Selonian passed them all by without even the slightest regard.

She kept walking, taking the tram and the lifts that would bring her to her private office, just aft of the bridge. The Navy troopers flanking the entry stood stock still, and these too were ignored as the heavy doors hissed open, then slammed closed upon her entry.

Wasting not a step, Lady Vissica followed the message that was given to her on the planet below. A simple command. One that carried infinite possibility.

Her clawed toes pressed against the raised dais in the center of the room, and immediately the Selonian knelt in submission. She heard the subtle hum of energy as a hologram coalesced in the air before her, yet Vissica dared not look at it. There was no mistaking who was on the other line of communication.

"What is thy bidding, my Empress?"

[Miranda Tarkin]

Arms clasped behind her back, Empress Miranda Tarkin's full gaze fell to the kneeling Imperial Knight.

"Your campaign on Polmanar has come to an end." The Empress' voice resounded through Vissica's office.

Back on Imperial Center at the palace, Miranda had been watching the events unfold with real time updates in the situation room surrounded by her generals, admirals and members if Imperial Intelligence. Once the capitol building on Polmanar had been stormed, she immediately sent word to Lady Vissica, knowing that the battle had been won. Intelligence had come through Director Esalis' office just hours before, and there was only a small window of opportunity to exploit this new information. Time was of the essence.

"The Decimator will remain in orbit as our forces continue to stabilize the planet. But you have a new mission." Miranda paused to allow a moment of triumph. Hands braced together as she was one step further in realizing her dream.

"You will go to the Jankok system and bring me the Jedi Tarkin," she commanded with steeled grace. "Your files are being updated with the acquired intel on her and the Jedi she's traveling with. I care little for her companion or the students but my sister must be brought back to me alive."

She had great plans for the two of them, but first she needed to capture Navaria. Her sister had been a ghost since Doldur with dozens of empty leads and infochants trying to make quick creds on false information. Not even a Bounty Hunter could draw her out! But Navaria's luck had finally ended and this time, there would be no escaping her Imperials Knights.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The word of the Empress was law. There was no room for questioning, for protest, or anything other than devoted compliance. Though Vissica wished to personally oversee Polmanar's subjugation reach it's conclusion, her Empress had other plans.

Selonians held no religion, but truth and obedience were secular sacraments that Lady Vissica held like a zealot.

Empress Tarkin's next words were her new commands. As earnestly as she wished to conclude her affairs here, the desire to see the next task done burned equally bright within.

You will go to the Jankok system and bring me the Jedi Tarkin

Eyes that were still cast downward in deference widened at these words. Vissica whispered in reverent reply.

"Navaria Tarkin."

Princess of the Empire. The only other being in the galaxy to share the bind of blood with the Empress. The Selonian needed no introduction to her. Her story, her parting, and her fall...they were chapters of her gospel.

Chapters that remained unfinished.

Vissica's words remained weighty with awe and a burning eagerness.

"By the grace of your leadership, I will give my utmost to see her returned to you."

This was perhaps the most important command she had ever received from her Empress. Vissica's senses were clear. She had been chosen for this task. The Selonian raised her head to implore her Wise Leader.

"My Empress...guide me so that I may be unstoppable in your name."

[Miranda Tarkin]

With the current cold relations that Miranda had with her mother, the thought had crossed her mind to use Lise against her Jedi twin. Miranda always fell short of implementing the idea and it confused the Empress if it were her familial obligation that made the decision for her, thus the idea never reaching any fruition or specifics. The anger she felt towards her mother's withdrawal from life could easily be changed by bringing her sister home. They could be reunited as a complete family unit. Something that Lady Vissica appreciated being a Selonian.

"You have complete authority to have anyone accompany you. Also, the one she travels with? I may care little for her but Navaria Tarkin cares a great deal. You can use this to your advantage in apprehending her, but I'd advise caution. She was able to survive an encounter with the monster that tried to kill my husband. Do not underestimate her abilities," she cautioned.

Lady Vissica was there on Pallaxides and witnessed first hand the damage wrought by the Empress' former assassin. It was a testament to Navaria's skill that her sister could defend against that walking nightmare.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"I shall not rest until she is at your side..."

And again, Vissica bowed low in supplication, her head nearly to the ground.

"...My Empress."



*** Moments later ***


The doors to Vissica's chamber parted, and the Selonian moved directly toward the bridge with long, purposeful strides. The urgency of her gait caused the Selonian to hunch forward slightly, and she made a direct line for Captain Wygraant, who had returned to his post of command.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Whatever had diverted Lady Vissica's attentions from the planet below, they had been urgent enough to cause her to completely ignore embarkation protocols. Captain Wygraant turned at the sound of the Selonian's bare feet thudding the deck. Hands clasped behind his back, he offered her a curt nod.

"Ah. Lady Vissica, the bombardment of Baaspuar is proceeding according to plan. I am -"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"Your bombardment is no longer necessary, Captain."

Vissica cut off Wygraant immediately, crossing her arms over her breastplate.

"The retribution campaign on Polmanar is finished. You will now coordinate restoration of the peace with our troops on the surface."

[Rolth Wygraant]

To say that Captain Wygraant was at a loss for words was putting it mildly. Lady Vissica's sudden course correction was unprecedented. He exchanged a sidelong glance with Commander Belgen, who stopped at a respectful distance to the side.

"I...wasn't aware of a change in the tactical situation on the planet."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The Selonian's dark eyes narrowed with impatience, and she expelled a short puff of breath from her nose.

"The Empress shows Polmanar her mercy, Captain. Restore this planet and her subjects to her rule. I have duties elsewhere."

[Rolth Wygraant]

The Selonian's brusque nature meant squeezing out details was more tortuous than divining blood from stone.

"Elsewhere, my Lady? Shall I prepare to redeploy?"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"No."

Vissica turned away from Wygraant, stalking across the command deck of the Decimator to approach the wide vantage viewport at the fore of the bridge.

"I will be leaving you here. Contact the Fearless. I will speak to Captain Felline."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Swallowing his exasperation, Wygraant offered a slight nod with downturned eyes.

"As you wish, my Lady."

He nodded into the crew pit at the comms officer, an unspoken order to carry out the Knight's demand.

[Vance Felline]

"Plot course headings with an eye for one kilometer distance at the smallest from all objects."

"Aye sir, one kilometer distance at the smallest."

He sipped his caf and settled gratefully into the chair provided him by some of the pluckier engineers and bridge officers; it was handily placed on the walkway above the tiny station pit, and it retracted into the floor when decorum and higher-placed officers of Starfleet visited his lowly ship. He knew most had some sort of similar amenity, but there was a definite sense of a prideful, staid acceptance of discomfort in the Fleet and Felline was not a Captain who liked to 'rock the boat', if one would forgive the pun.

It was early in the cycle, and the bridge crew were bright and awake, most likely because their shift would be done soon and the first shift crew would be coming to relieve them. He remembered fondly the burst of energy he'd get from thinking of how he'd fall into his bunk when the end of a shift was near.

Now? He looked at caf a bit sourly; Captains had no set schedule or shift, and though he did have preferred hours on the bridge, simple chain of command necessities brought him out of his cabin and working at all times of the cycle.

This was one of those times.

"We have the vessel on scan, Captain. Closest asteroid is one point four two kilometers distant and moving away."

"Very good," he answered, drinking from the steaming mug. He'd have some tea later on to make up for the sheer distaste of drinking caf.

"Shall we call for the Lady, sir?"

Felline glanced over at Kiril, his Vice-Captain, and pondered the question for a moment.

"I'm not getting up," he finally decided. "And I'd rather not deal with the consequences of waking her too soon."

Kiril nodded, both amused and horrified. Amused at his Captain; horrified at the thought of a grumpy Lady Iscandar.

"Captain, we're getting a transmission," an ensign called from the communications pit. "From the Decimator, sir. Captain Wygraant and... Lady Vissica."

Felline thanked the stars and any and every god he could remember that he was not assigned to Lady Vissica. Iscandar may be somewhat difficult to work with on occasion, but to be sure, her bad days did not leave a trail of Imperial casualties behind her. He could almost hear Kiril beside him doing the same.

"Put them through," he said, reluctantly standing. "Bring us out of the asteroid field for a clearer signal, helm."

"Aye sir, bringing us out of the asteroid field."

He stood, the chair slowly retracting into the deck. He stared after it for a long moment before drinking the rest of his caf in a few swift gulps and handed the mug to Kiril, who passed it off to an ensign. The holoprojector hummed to life, and he bowed and stood at attention to the static-riddled and flickering images before him.

"Lady Vissica; Captain Wygraant," he said, keeping the Knight's name first to keep from hurting her pride. They were also suitably amazing ways to start off a conversation like this: a greeting and acknowledgement and a subtle question without being rude.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"Captain Felline."

The Selonian's whiskers rose briefly as she reciprocated salutation in a cool, emotionless tone.

"Prepare your corvette for immediate departure. You will deploy to the Jankok system."

[Vance Felline]

He bowed once more.

"Of course, Lady Vissica," he answered. "We will be delayed, however. We are presently within an asteroid field —"

The hologram fizzled and spat, Wygraant and Vissica's forms breaking up and reappearing. Felline fell silent, and waited for the signal to strengthen.

"Apologies, sir. Highly active radio and magnetic substances in the field around us."

Felline simply nodded and waited.

"Signal's becoming clearer."

Lady Vissica did not look pleased by the interruption. Wygraant, as ever, looked as nonplussed as was humanly possible.

"— We are presently within an asteroid field. We will make way once we are clear."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"Asteroids do not concern me, Captain."

An edge of urgency gave steel to Vissica's words as she bared her teeth momentarily.

"Do not delay. Your mission has been given by the Empress herself."

If that was not enough to give Felline pause, Vissica continued.

"I will be joining you. Clear the field, and prepare to receive my shuttle."

[Vance Felline]

They certainly concern me, Felline thought to himself. If he allowed himself no concern, chances were the Knight would have a considerable delay in looking for another ship to carry out this mission.

"I am Her Majesty's servant," he said with a bow. "We will be, barring any unforeseen circumstances, exiting the field in seventeen to twenty five minutes. We will send you our coordinates and telemetry presently."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Lady Vissica replied to Felline's ETA only with silence, pausing mid-turn only for a moment to level a pointed glance at Captain Wygraant, before she fully turned from the hologram, and towards the bridge's exit.

Captain Wygraant was left as the sole man on Decimator's side of the line. He offered the corvette captain a curt nod, one that spoke an unsaid understanding.

A moment later, the holo feed terminated.

[Vance Felline]

Twenty minutes later, having exited the asteroid field and entered hyperspace, Captain Felline found himself standing outside the quarters that had been claimed by their "personal" Knight.

He pressed the communicator pad, and waited for her voice to ask for his identity, but instead the doors opened. He steeled himself and entered the quarters.

They were spartan and undecorated, and not as large as one might have expected for such a personage as her Lady Iscandar, but Felline was familiar with the Knight, and after his first initial sense of surprise, scolded himself for having expected otherwise.

"Mon Capitain," Iscandar said. She was sitting cross legged on a small dais in the middle of the quarters, facing the viewport, wearing a simple under tunic and comfortable trousers. She had not turned to face him.

"My lady," he answered. "We have been called out of the system."

"In ze midst of an operation?" she asked, remaining unmoving.

"The Empress herself commanded," he said. Her head slightly turned.

"So it was Vissica."

"...yes, milady. I was only told to make our destination the Jankok system, and to await Lady Vissica's shuttle after our arrival. We estimate no more than three hours in hyperspace."

Iscandar remained silent for a moment.

"Thank you, Capitain," she said finally. "You are dismissed."

"Milady," he said, clicking his heels and bowing to her.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The nature of shuttle berths on a ship as small as a Raider Corvette was that they were always done by airlock. Vissica's Lambda-class shuttle pivoted to the Fearless, showing its belly as her wings drew up. Moments later, a dull thump and a hiss signaled a successful seal. Two stormtroopers stood at the threshold when the doors opened. Beyond them, Captain Felline and Lady Iscandar stood.

"Captain Felline. Comrade Iscandar."

Vissica greeted each coolly, tucking her fingers underneath the bottom seam of her armored cuirass.

"Are we ready to depart?"

[Palara Iscandar]

"Of course," Palara answered, turning and striding to the bridge with Vissica taking her right side and Felline staidly placing himself at her left and behind slightly. Even if he wasn't of high nobility, sometimes he did things so naturally that Iscandar had to remind herself of that fact.

The airlock hissed as the doors closed and the retracted floor paneling slid back into place. If one listened closely, one might have been able to hear the shuttle disengage from the hatch.

"We only need a destination."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Eagerness spurred Vissica onward, and only decorum held her leash.

"The Jankok system. Immediately."

Her eyes squared onto the Twi'lek.

"Celebrate, comrade. The Empress has given us a sacred task. We are to apprehend Navaria Tarkin."

[Palara Iscandar]

"Ah, yes. We have the coordinates in the computer, and I can give the order to jump now, if it pleases."

"Make it so, Capitain," Iscandar said. "Go to ze bridge. I shall speak wit' Vissica in my quarters. Remain silent as to our mission."

Felline bowed once smartly and picked up his pace, passing the two Knights and making his way to the bridge-lift.

"We can nevair be sure of 'oo is listening, Vissica. While I believe zere are no compromised crewmembers aboard, such assumptions 'ave ruined operations in ze past. And eef we are chaseeng such prey as zis, I will leave nozzing to chance."

The trip to Iscandar's spartan quarters was short. Nearly all trips on a Raider-II were short, especially relative to many other ship designs and classes in the fleet, due to its small size. Once the doors shut behind them and the locks engaged with an echoing clang, Iscandar gestured idly with a hand, levitating two large, plush cushions from a recess in one corner to the dais that dominated the room's design. Iscandar gestured to one while she sat cross legged on the other.

"'Ow good eez z'intelligence pointing to ze Empress' sister being on Jankok?" she asked. "Surely ze Jedi would be more reluctant to let 'er leave Ossus for such a vulnerable location?"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Uncertain how to appropriately negotiate the offered furniture, the Selonian perched atop the cushion, dropping her haunches and forepaws to rest.

"The Empress has vouched personally on the validity of the information." Vissica rumbled gravely. "Considering this, I would treat it as reliable."

The unsaid truth was that Vissica was not given the means to which the intelligence was gathered. Nor did one venture to ask such a question to their Empress.

"There is apparently a humanitarian crisis unfolding on the planet. Perhaps the Jedi view this as an opportunity to demonstrate compassion. Such opportunities prove compelling to Jedi teachings."

The Selonian's tail thumped the cushion as she thought about their upcoming mission.

"With sufficient speed we may run her to ground and isolate her if she is among friends. I have studied Jankok. It is sparsely populated, with only one city hosting a spaceport."

[Palara Iscandar]

"Of all ze Jedi zey could send, zey send Tarkin? I do not doubt you or our Empress. Ze Jedi are not fools, zough; zere are more zan enough Jedi to send zat we do not 'ave such interest in. It is rare zat our foes make such an error as zis, if it is an error at all."

Iscandar frowned, and closed her eyes, falling into her training as an Inquisitor easily. While she felt much more at peace with her duties as a Knight, the fact remained that Atrapes himself had trained her as an adept hunter years before the Knights had been conceived. It was less putting on her old Inquisitorial persona, and more a glimpse of the Inquisitor wearing the Knight's mantle.

"It would 'ave been good to bring ze Dominator," she said after a moment. "To lock down ze port and keep a watch over ze planet. Not to mention ze Stormtroopers and Walkers. But per'aps we can make ze lack a strength, or call in a nearby destroyer or cruiser. Ze problem is, I do not know much of Navaria Tarkin, so I cannot anticipate 'er decisions."

She opened her eyes and pressed her fingers to a small control panel at the edge of the dais. A moment to search the database, and a hologram of Jankok appeared, with a wall of text next to it.

"We 'ave options. We can use ze port as a lure, per'aps; once we 'ave declared ourselves to ze planet, ze Jedi Tarkin will most likely attempt to flee to ze port. As long as we control ze port, she will be trapped. If we 'ad Stormtroopers, we could 'ave used zem to blanket ze port and zeir senses with danger, making it 'arder to anticipate or sense us.

"We could destroy ze port and run 'er to ground, as you said. We must be careful zough, as she could simply 'ide, forcing us to comb ze planet. We do not 'ave ze resources for zat. We must find 'er and force 'er to run, wizzout completely disappearing. Also, if she finds anozzer ship zat was not in ze port, such as a smuggler's ship or a shuttle, she could escape zat way. You 'ave studied ze planet: what are ze odds of a smuggler's 'aven or undocumented shuttles?"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"The possibility cannot be ruled out." The Selonian admitted sourly.

"Perhaps caution is the better tact. You and I will launch on a landing craft discretely, and search the settlement for signs of the Jedi. The Fearless can remain hidden in the lagrangian point of Jankok's moon, ready to be recalled for bombardment or pursuit as we see fit."

[Palara Iscandar]

"Against a foe like Navaria Tarkin, caution is no vice," Palara hummed, her eyes still unfocused. "I agree. As an added precaution, we should 'ave ze shuttle return after we disembark, some distance away from ze port, and we should not display z'Imperial Crest. Ze longer we can search unnoticed, ze better off we will be should we discover ze Jedi and her companion."

Palara gave a wry smile at the stormy roil of emotions in Vissica's heart.

"It will not be a lie if we are not caught out and questioned. Should it come to it, I shall bear ze burden for you."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"No burden is necessary." Vissica's brows knit with warming annoyance.

"A Selonian understands well how to abstain and omit. We accord ourselves with integrity, but we are not guileless, comrade."

As often happened with the Selonian Knight, the annoyance ebbed, no grudge was kept, and she returned to the task.

"Your plan is sound. Instruct Captain Felline accordingly."

[Vance Felline]

"Capitain. Ready a shuttle for myself and Vissica, wiz a standard crew. Zey will return to ze ship after we disembark. Come out of 'yperspace far enough zat we will not appear on zeir scanners."

"Of course, Lady Iscandar. It shall be done. We are presently underway, and will arrive in twenty four standard hours."

"Good."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The Planet Jankok
The following day


The shuttle had spirited the two Knights to the planet under the veil of a moonless night. Taking care, the ship eased towards the surface, but didn't put down. The ramp lowered, and two shrouded figures leapt from the still-gliding shuttle. Once they were safely on the ground, the ship picked up speed, heading back up into the night.

Away from the eyes of caravan tents or the port city, Lady Vissica and Lady Iscandar began their lonely foot approach. In the dry air, the glow of civilization could be seen readily in the distance, but it was a distance of over a dozen kilometers. That was as close as they could dare risk.

Clad in a shapeless tunic without a stitch of Imperial marking, Vissica pressed a set of trinocs to her eyes, sighting in the range of the settlement and adjusting focus. She then passed the instrument wordlessly to Palara, and eased her lengthy frame down to four feet.

"We should arrive in the settlement before first light."

[Navaria Tarkin]

Jankok (https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Jankok) was a world that held little interest to travelers but in recent years, the native Srrors'toks (https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Srrors%27tok) had been amicable to further trade by word of mouth through family tribes settling on other planets. That brought slightly more traffic through the system which used to be nil. In the past, beings came to Jankok with purpose. Now the planet was slowly building its reputation for exotic fruits and plants used in medicines. Over the years since the Rebellion became the Alliance, the Srrors'toks created a modest spaceport around a growing settlement.

Due to an unexpected frost, crops had died and a good portion of the populace suffered from illness and frost bite. Srrors'toks were not made for cold. Botras bound Srrors'toks had reached out on behalf of Jankok to Jedi passing through the system and pleaded for help. Their need was communicated back to Ossus and Navaria Tarkin immediately coordinated with the Alliance Supply Fleet and managed to enlist one light freighter for use. Alliance resources were stretched thin to offer much else for this categorized low priority crisis. There were too few seasoned Jedi on Ossus as well. Master Vymes opted to stay behind to oversee operations as Navaria took lead on Jankok.

It also served to let her Padawans get some field experience. Bryna Belargic and Cleo Némain were here to assist with a half dozen Alliance medical personnel to distribute food, clothing, and tend to the injured. They would remain in Ryn'Krk, the unofficial capital of Jankok, for another day and leave. It would be unwise to linger longer when the settlement was on the mend and able Srrors'toks had taken to speeders to deliver supplies to the outlying smaller settlements.

Navaria was making the most with the time she had left here while her students rested. She passed out blankets, bandaged wounds and helped Srrors'toks to water inside the large Alliance Medical Tent that was erected near the spaceport.