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[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Aboard the Star Destroyer Decimator
In orbit of the planet Mygeeto.


The pacification was finished. Paltry resistance to Imperial rule had been snuffed out almost as soon as it began. Now came the task of putting out the remaining fires and putting things the way they were. It was a task for someone other than Matatek Sel Vissica. Administrators. Engineering Corps. Prefects. Moffs. These were the people tasked with the aftermath. For a Knight of the Imperial Throne, there would always be another task, and soon. One did not take free time for granted.

The Selonian paced down the halls of the destroyer, slowed somewhat by the fatigue of a day's hard fighting. Her armored cuirass had a dullness of dirt, and even a singe of a glancing blaster impact across the back. Ahead, a sortie of mouse droids skittered sharply to the right to grant Vissica a wide berth. To her left, stormtroopers escorted a dozen utterly ragged-looking prisoners in binders. These were the unfortunate fools too close to the epicenter of the failed putsch. They'd been brought to the destroyer to be discretely terminated. Too important to die as martyrs. Far better to simply disappear.

"I am not to be disturbed." Vissica commanded the naval trooper posted as guard to her quarters, who simply gave a crisp nod in response. The heavy double doors parted, and the Selonian stepped past the threshold. A moment later, the doors sealed, leaving Vissica in her sparsely-decorated living space. With a grunt, she freed herself from her armor, throwing the catches open and shrugging out of the metal cuirass, which she let clatter to the floor. Next came her forearm gauntlets, similarly tossed aside. The only article that was handled with care was her weapon. The heavy metal cylinder of the Selonian's lightclub was placed upon a cradle at the head of the room, situated just beneath a framed picture of Empress Tarkin. Vissica took a few reverent steps back, and slid her haunches to the floor.

"Resume reading."

Holographic text lit up the dark with her command, and Vissica's dark eyes browsed in the faint blue glow. The Knights Archives were highly secure information, and indeed only a Knight could access the information. It was a vast volume, a part of which contained an abridged collection of writings on the force. Some of the content had been written by fellow comrade knights, but there was some material that had been transcribed from captured holocrons. It was all carefully doled out by the Knight General; there was still knowledge of the force too dangerous for even Knights to access. The Archives allowed Knights to the Throne to continue their training even in self discovery. It was an illuminating resource, one which Lady Vissica had been returning to with growing frequency of late.

"Close document."

The hologram faded, again returning Vissica's quarters to dim gloom. The Selonian took a deep breath, letting it exhale from her nose in a long draw. Her eyes slowly closed. The quiet and dark helped to slip easily into the senses the Force offered, and soon Vissica embraced the perception. There was her sense of herself, the bright locus in the dark. She sensed the guard beyond the door. The passing troopers. Plain and unremarkable people brought into focus by their proximity.

Vissica reached farther. There was Captain Wygraant, standing staid and calm on the bridge. This she could not see but only infer. She'd felt the working of his mind, and the sum of their combined experiences.And yet, the force offered more. So much more than this. A strong connection between two people could, according to the texts, be felt over great distances. Perhaps even distance itself was not a factor, and only a barrier erected by the rational mind to discourage from reaching into the expanse?

Vissica slowed her breathing. She pressed the pink of her tongue gently against the cleft of her lip, then let out another slow breath. She was far from this place. Everywhere. Nowhere. Reaching through the force to find life and presence where it might be discovered. People on the planet below. Living things a sector away. Nothing discernible but present. But this wasn't what Vissica was after. A pinched expression of conflict creased her face. The Selonian's flews drew up, revealing clenched teeth.

The smell of salt air. Glass, tinkling, crunching, a thousand shards. The scream of locked lightsaber blades, a timbre more intense than any training with Baastian Cain. A tawny yellow eye. A scar. Vissica could feel herself being drawn across a distance, not by her own command but by force of will. By the intensity of that shared moment. Something violent and vibrant grew in intensity, snuffing everything out beneath its shadow. It was so much to feel, and still Vissica poured herself into it. That burning emotion of the moment shared. It devoured every sensation she had left until everything around her was empty.

Everything, but not quite. Staring into the center of it, blinding herself to all else that surrounded her, Vissica pressed forward tentatively. There was so much she was unsure of, and all she could survey was indistinct. But she had a feeling that in this moment, she was not alone. In the center of that blinding intensity - a presence. A familiar one.

"Captain s'Ilancy."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Aboard the cruiser Khera'Va'ss'io
In orbit over the planet Nazzri





The nightmare was always the same. It crept into her subconscious like some angry wraith, trying to dislodge her peaceful slumber and tear her away from the reality of her existence now. And, it did an admirable job of just that. It grasped her soul, tearing her away from rest and slumber. It screamed at her and assailed her. It hounded her. Was there truly ever going to be a time when she could push it away? Each morning that followed she guessed that no, she would not be allowed that peace of mind. It was simply as all things were - a consequence of life. Or death. It did not matter how a being chose to interpret such a thing - it simply was. And who was she to deny it? It was part of the punishment. The price she had to pay for her survival.

"I aim to make you see again."

Were they prophetic words? She supposed that they were. Because every word in that sentence had been truth. Stark, undeniable, heartbreaking truth.

She could feel the cold of a biting, unrelenting wind. It brought with it angry flecks of snow that cut her to the core as much as any life-ending wound. She could see the brilliance of two saber blades - one blue, the other a pale yellow. Both came together in violence and leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. A feral euphoria washed over her, and she could remember the utter surety with which she had begun that terrible duel on Hoth. And in the end? She had been left broken in both body and mind. Her heart and soul had been split open by hands that had never once shown honest care. The hands of a man that thought so little of her, and had manipulated her to his own ends. She had been begged to turn from him, and warned of his poisons. Yet, still she drank hungrily from the falsehoods and lies and had allowed herself to be deceived.

Each shift of her awareness only took her through that defining battle on Hoth which had become a fixed moment in her memory. She had been shown the hearts of two men that day. Two men that had professed love, yet only one had been sincere. It had been a betrayal of so much of her life.

Even now, after everything, it haunted her dreams. She was taken from peace and pushed into that terrible time to be made to relive each swipe of the blade. Every word spoken was remembered with such crystal clarity that the Lupine could not help but feel intense shame. She had come so far, but it had all come undone by twisted intentions and hate.



* * *

High above Nazzri, Khera'Va'ss'io hung silent. His sleek hull cut a rakish figure as it orbited the glittering planetary jewel. According to the chrono, it was 0200 local standard. The ship's interior was quiet, save for the overnight staff going about their normal duties. After all, this was a routine stop that, while a fair bit further down the border, was like any of their other layovers. Nazzri itself was a quiet world, its' people doing as they always have. They kept to themselves, and seemed to take satisfaction in their partnership with the Alliance. They were a welcome participant and their support greatly appreciated.

Her meetings with the local military officials had concluded the day before, and their departure had been scheduled for the next day. Until then it was rest and preparation for the journey back up along the border.

In her own cabin, the Lupine was curled on her side in her bed, facing the bulkhead wall. In her mind she was set upon by the nightmare, and just as it was a month previous, it was relentless. She was atop the ion canon, locked together with Zem. Both buffeted by the winds on their perch, she felt herself move as she had before; their blades came over and around, and her off-hand pulled the killing dagger from its' hidden sheath in her saber hilt. The quick motion of her hand that flipped the glinting blade around, that minute step that brought them into the embrace of death...

Her eyes flew open as the knife pushed into his flesh, and s'Il stared up into the darkness of her own quarters. The violence of her memories had done well to jolt her into the waking world, but there had been something else as well.

A voice, hollowed through sheer distance.

She was not alone.

Her body moved quickly to sit up, and throwing the covers to the side, her legs swung over the edge of her bed to plant bare feet on the deck below.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Not just a presence, an awareness. Something faceless through the veil that responded to Vissica's call and reacted to her own presence. It was a feeling that was formless, but a feeling so intense that the hair raised on the Selonian's sleek coat in surprise. It was her. It was her! Unmistakably her! That sense of presence was so strong that Vissica reached out physically on instict, swiping her open paw through air where she expected to find a vulnerable neck.

Vissica tumbled out of her meditative pose, sprawling onto the floor. In a moment, that connection vanished into nothing. All she could feel in their wake was adrenaline and fatigue, vying for control over her body. She panted in bewildered breaths, eyes wide open as she looked through each shadow of her room, expecting to find a hidden interloper.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

And then it was gone. Whatever she had felt, whatever voice that had snaked through the darkness of her quarters, had vanished as easily as it came. It had been a familiar voice however, and s'Il frowned in thought as her mind pushed past the cobwebs of sleep to try and make sense of what had just happened.

She sat motionless, shoulders slightly hunched as her hands gripped the edge of her thin mattress until eventually one arm lifted, and she pressed two fingers into the inner corners of her eyes. Her body seemed to deflate in that moment, as though the rigors of simply being awake were too much to bear in the here and now. Had it been some strange convergence of thought processes? Her subconscious bringing together two memory strings?

The Lupine let her hand fall back down the the bed as she turned her gaze to the small, glowing chrono that rested on the nightstand.


0213


Her frown only deepened as she pulled her legs back up to slide them beneath the covers.

"Bantharot," came the sighed grumble as her head fell against the pillow once more.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Sleep.

Her body craved it in a way Vissica hadn't felt in a long time. It wasn't simply fatigue from the battle below on Mygeeto. It felt deeper, smothering her. The Selonian curled in on herself, propping her chin atop the thick of her tail. She drew in a deep breath, then fell instantly into slumber. Behind closed eyes, the frenzied prior moment fell into the sieve of her subconscious. She began to dream - vivid images flashing before her like they'd scarcely done before.

Ocean.

Sky.

The prismatic tumult of shattered glass.

The scream of lightsabers vying against each other.

Her enemy.

In this state of dreaming, Vissica poured her strength into overpowering the Jedi, but her blade wouldn't budge. The Knight then tried to withdraw her weapon for another strike, but the result was the same. The will over herself in this moment was nowhere. It was the construct of the dream, one in which Vissica had a surprising amount of self awareness.

"I am dreaming."

It was said as much to herself as to the duelist standing inches from her, also seemingly frozen in this moment like amber. But was that true? How could she be certain?

"I remember this moment. The duel on Manaan. Why are we here?"

If s'Ilancy was a construct in this dream, what would she even say to that?

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The terrible duel on Hoth had gone, replaced with a sensation of misted water droplets. Of the singing heat of two lightsaber blades held against one another. The scent of the sea filled her senses and s'Il drew still as she too became aware of the fluid surroundings around her. And around another familiar body that was so very close.

She blinked.

"It was you. Your voice."

She felt as though she was encased in mud, her body slow to respond, and a moment later she ceased the inward struggle to jerk away. Instead, she settled for keeping her broken gaze on that of Matatek Sel Vissica, Imperial Knight. She answered the Selonian's question with a demand of her own.

"Why have you called me."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The visage of s'Ilancy replied, and Vissica felt a strange clarity in this moment. The sound of tinkling glass, sea birds, and even lightsabers fell into silence. The words spoken in reply did nothing to either prove or disprove the speaker's presence. This may very well be nothing more than a conversation held within herself. Nonetheless, Vissica entertained the possibility, treating the words as if they were spoken by the woman she'd searched out.

"You interest me. I wanted to find you."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a flash of annoyance then, and s'Il felt her body further settle into the state that she had been drawn into. It was not ideal. But it was where she now found herself, and the Lupine closed her eyes as she let her head fall.

"And now that you have found me?"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"Where are you? I am not on Manaan, and I suspect you aren't either."

It was a desultory question. Idle curiosity to sate her before Vissica ventured into the heart of matters. She was genuinely curious just how far her reach had grasped, if it had done so at all.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was no harm in answering. If nothing else, at the very least she could be truthful.

"Nazzri."

She could not help but wonder just how creative her subconscious had become. In sleep, there was truly no telling the reaches that a person's mind could achieve when wanting to explain the currently unexplained.

One hand reached up slowly, brushing the backs of her fingers gently - motherly almost, even - along the whiskers that she knew she'd pulled from the Selonian's muzzle during their struggle.

"It seems even my dreams can forget to fill in the details."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"I do not know that planet."

That ignorance was telling, and Vissica turned introspective as her small ears flicked in contemplation. There was always a possibility she might have heard the name of the world in inconsequential passing, but it was far less likely that her subconscious would create a place of fictitious imagination. Selonians had no stomach for untruths of many kinds.

Vissica then recoiled from s'Ilancy's touch, the phantom tactile sensation resonating in her whiskers. s'Ilancy likewise believed she was locked in a dream.

"The Knights Archives are incomplete, but they contain extensive information captured from Jedi holocrons. I used that information to find you. To understand you. Our conflict on Manaan was too brief, and its resolution too bitter for my satisfaction."

There was a simple question burning on Vissica's tongue. One that would lead to many other questions.

"Who are you?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a kernel of intrigue that began to send out the tiniest of shoots. But, at the same time it was worrying. Knight Vissica it seemed had been far more affected by their duel on Manaan than she had, and the interest that she professed had led to mining old knowledge. Stolen knowledge.

That this was a simple dream was becoming less of a sure thing, and there was a shadow of concern that now passed over the Lupine's features both in the dreamscape and in the darkness of her quarters.

"That is not anything I could answer in a timely fashion," came the eventual response.

"But I can assure you that whatever you find of interest in me, I will fall woefully short of your expectations. Right now, I am just old and tired."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The Selonian Knight set to separating the germ from the chaff. She already knew a great deal about Loklorien s'Ilancy; such was the nature of obsession. She had no interest in a reeducation of the obvious.

"You were a Jedi Padawan and pupil of Master Mace Windu. You served in the outer rim sieges during the Clone Wars, surviving Order 66 as a fugitive of the empire in the company of the Jedi Zem'El Vymes and the Rebel leader Dan Thrule. You were instrumental in the founding of the Jedi sanctuary at Ossus and quashing General Thrule's insurrection. You serve in the Alliance navy, raised to the rank of Commodore, then demoted to the rank of Captain. I know all of this already."

There was a question that begged asking.

"You denied that you were a Jedi when we fought. Why?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The depth of knowledge held by the Selonian was both concise and deep. It grew the already budding concern she held, and to have her life so succinctly summarized was humbling in its' own way.

The shared dream existence had taken a worrisome turn, and the Lupine stepped back from Vissica. The skies of Manaan seemed to melt into the sea so that there was nothing.

"I fell."

As simple an answer as any, and one that she hoped would sate the Knight's curiosity. To be disturbed during a time of supposed rest was vexing enough without the added knowledge that the one who had sought her out had become so relentless as to scour old tomes for even older methods of communication.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The trappings of the dreamscape began to fall away, until there was only a perception of herself and of s'Ilancy. Freed from the embrace of lightsabers, the Selonian relaxed into a neutral stance.

"To the dark side." Vissica inferred.

And yet, she recalled the details of the duel so vividly. There was no trace of the anger and hatred needed to draw from that wellspring.

"You returned to the light, then. Why make this distinction?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She had reached the limit of her patience for now. The revelations thus far were monumental enough despite the admittedly brief interactions between the two, and s'Il gave a scowl. She was tired, after all. She needed rest. She needed to process the words that had been spoken to her.

Her thoughts began to unwind themselves from the connection, and from Knight Vissica. She took another half-step back, untangling herself from the intertwined tendrils of two minds.

"Let me be."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica awoke, though the time on the chronometer indicated immediately that she'd slept for quite some time. The Selonian yawned, beginning the process of stretching out from her slumber. She felt leaden and her muscles ached with prior exertion. Her sleep hadn't been as restful as she hoped.

The Selonian spent time cleaning and polishing her armor. With the task done, she clasped the cuirass around her, retrieved her greatsaber, then exited her quarters, heading for the Star Destroyer's bridge.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The morning hours came with particular vengeance, and s'Il groaned as she removed herself from the comfort and warmth of her bed. Except... except that her dreams had taken an unexpected turn. Even as she set about her normal early morning routine - sonic shower, pulling on her uniform one bit at a time with steady and deliberate movements, stepping out into the small living area to momentarily stand in the silence that reigned within this small sanctuary.

Then a step toward the small desk, and she reached out to key the compact terminal to scan over the night time reports that were beginning to trickle in. It was nothing out of the ordinary, and the Lupine let her eye pass over each portion.

Khera'Va'ss'io and his crew were ready to be gone. They would pass up along the border, returning to their normal routes.

Five minutes later found her on the bridge, lowering her frame into the familiar depths of her chair as KHER busied himself with the procedural details of their path back. It wasn't particularly taxing she knew, but he was quiet for the time being, and she appreciated the silence that came about from his tasks. So too did Mr. Raghus, who sat comfortably in his pilot's nest. Samus had by now trundled his way to the bridge, looking as though he'd been awake for long enough to find himself an early morning breakfast. Sometimes a person did not need to look for tells when they could smell the aroma of spiced biscuit cakes and Arkanian ginger honey.

s'Il watched as the tall blonde made his way to KHER only to deliver a jovial clap to the droid's narrow, metal shoulder. Leaving KHER to recover in the wake of his good moods, Dage turned his chipper gaze to her as he approached.

"Fine morning, yes?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Ah, Lady Vissica."

Wygraant turned on a heel at the distinctive sound of the Selonian's approaching gait behind him.

"We've mopped up the last feeble scraps of resistance in the remote outposts. We are once again masters of Mygeeto."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica ignored the statement, pushing on her own path in her distinctly direct manner.

"Prepare a long range probe for launch. Target the Nazzri system."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Despite being accustomed to his Knight's sudden segues, the command caught Wygraant off guard. He glanced past to see if Commander Belgen had been in earshot. He was not.

"The Nazzri system? I don't understand."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"I do not require your understanding," Vissica countered with even-tempered finality as she pushed past Wygraant to survey the planet below, "only your compliance."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"My lady," Wygraant began, treading carefully over tactful ground, "the Nazzri system lies well across a highly monitored section of the border. It's highly likely the probe would be detected and intercepted."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Wygraant's words confirmed what Vissica suspected. She nodded.

"I understand. Launch the probe."

[Rolth Wygraant]

There was to be no more arguing the point. Captain Wygraant gave the faintest of nods.

"As you wish, my Lady."

He pivoted to the crew pit below, snapping a gloved finger.

"Prepare probe for launch."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Contruum System



There was a peace in space that contrasted sharply with the actions of those that inhabited the velvety blackness, as though it was some sleeping giant content to do nothing but exist in repose while beings from all over went about their daily lives, skipping from planet to planet, world to world, home to home. Some lived peacefully, some chose to make war. It was always the way of life and living.

The quiet of the inky darkness enveloping the Contruum System was no different, and the moment of stillness was broken by the crack of a silent thunderclap as a dusty green beast burst through the seam of hyperspace to settle easily into much more calm surroundings. What had once been starlines were now glittering jewels in a sea of black.

Khera'Va'ss'io banked starboard in a lazy arc, his hull slipping easily through the nothingness as he set his course to the orbiting shipyard over Contruum.

On the bridge, Captain s'Ilancy sat patiently, her eye ahead of her, staring. She had spent much of the trip through hyperspace as such and content to allow Dage the freedom to make sure that all was as it should be.

Inwardly her thoughts were jumbled, trying to piece together a coherent string that would explain the previous night. It was not so much the act of it, but rather the reasons behind the actions taken to seek her out. From what she could gather at this point, the Selonian had become desperate to right some sort of percieved wrong that'd been done, and it was that sort of drive and motivation that fed the worry she could not help but feel growing.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

With the order given, Vissica promptly left Wygraant's company for the seclusion of her quarters once again. Again, the darkness enveloped her as she drew to her haunches. The Selonian worked through the sensory exercise of the previous day, finding it less difficult and taxing to do so now that she knew where to look. After a few moments, she again felt that familiar presence so close and yet so far away.

"Why have you abandoned the Jedi?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Samus was standing beside Raghus, both relaxed enough to trade words with interjections of muted chuckling. Her XO sent a quick look over his shoulder to her, making sure that she was still where she needed to be, and the Lupine afforded him a simple nod as she turned her eye downward. The small readout on the arm of her chair glowed as she scrolled through the incoming ship reports. All the same, all rote, all as they should be. With the shipyard looming ahead, there was a comfortable ease to be found in the knowledge that KHER was seeing to the more mundane aspects of check-ins and manifest reviews.

It was when she looked up that everything grew dim. Samus and Raghus were pushed away, though they did not seem to care as the fell away. Even KHER and each of the small tick and whirs of his ever-moving servos faded out.

And again she was pulled from the moment only to be unceremoniously dropped into another state.

In that moment there was a flash of frustration in the face of Vissica's tenacity.

"Do you not have some other poor soul to grind beneath your heel?"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"You interest me." The Selonian replied flatly across the void in even monotone.

"You did not answer my question before. The light is with you, but you hold yourself apart from your Jedi past. Why?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Narrowed eyes, a pinched expression.

"What you told me earlier of my life was broad strokes and basic information that anyone could find.""

There were still some things that she would hold close to her chest. Whatever the Knight wanted, she would have to earn it.

"What else do you know about me."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"Admittedly little."

There was disappointment to the Selonian's projected voice.

"I know you are not human. I know you once traveled with a smuggler named Sanis Prent. I know that Director Esalis has been pointedly interested in you as well. There was a scientist, now presumed defected to the Alliance, who seemed to know a great deal. Colonel Karrnage. Do you know him?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I am aware of him."

Everything was still basic. Still mostly common knowledge. She pulled in a long breath, the air feeling almost stale in her lungs as she furrowed her brow in thought.

An exhale, then a blunt statement.

"Manaan affected you."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"Yes."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was an honest admission, that much was easy to discern, and the Lupine's next query followed almost immediately on the heels of Vissica's affirmation.

"Why."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"It is unfinished."

There was something deep inside Vissica's chest, pulling her with the power of a gravity well. She tentatively licked her flews.

"You defied the Empire. You should be my prisoner. It is as I said when we fought before."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I defied nothing."

She felt herself lean back in a seat that she was only half-aware of sitting in. Two forms in the distance could be made out, but they were ignored for now.

"The Empire broke the terms of the agreement by slowing their evacuation and sabotaging a kolto refinery."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"Plead your case before the Empress," Vissica replied dismissively, "What becomes of you after your capture is not for me to decide. I promised you in chains. A Selonian keeps her word."

She wasn't interested in digging heels in a shouting match, however. Vissica tactically withdrew.

"Colonel Karrnage's niche field of study was in paraxenobiology. The study of extinct, rumored, and artificial species. Why did you attract his interest?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The shapes in the background were drawing close, their forms becoming more crisp as she recognized the hurried, long-legged gait belonging to Samus and the more fluid strides of Raghus.

"We are through here."

A hand grasped her shoulder, and the Lupine felt her body being given a light shake.

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Captain!"

One moment she'd been there, and the next her eyes had unfocused, her entire posture stiffening. At first he'd thought nothing of it and continued his bickering with Mr. Raghus, but it didn't take long before a second look caused puzzlement to flit over his features. Oh, he was used to the old girl going off and getting lost in her thoughts as she seemed to've made a sport of it, but this was something else, and Samus pulled away from the pilot's nest while tugging on the Farghul's jacket cuff, an unspoken order for assistance.

Still she was unresponsive, as if the trance she was in held her prisoner, and grasping her shoulder, the blonde delivered a firm shake.

"Lok!"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The connecting bridge that had intruded into her thoughts was abruptly severed, and her eye focused on the concerned face of her second in command. A moment of disorientation swept over her before she screwed her eyes shut, and s'Il leaned back in her seat.

"I'm fine," she sighed with a slightly hoarse tone, as though her vocal chords had gone unused for decades.

"Just... thinking."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica fell out of her meditation a moment before the chime on her quarters sounded. She took a moment to gather her poise, righting upwards to a two-legged stance.

"Enter."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Captain Wygraant strode through the threshold, gloved hands clasped behind his back before he squared before the Knight.

"The probe to Nazzri was launched as you requested, my Lady. I regret to inform you that the Alliance security grid detected its approach and it was neutralized, as I warned."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The Selonian's tail slid along the deck, undulating once with a thump.

"Destroyed?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant spread his gloved hands slightly.

"Unable to say. We've simply lost contact with it. It's more likely the probe would have been disabled, to give the alliance a chance to glean any useful information about where it may have launched from or what intelligence it has already gathered."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The news didn't seem to change the Selonian's expression in the slightest, though Wygraant was far from adept at reading such an alien face. Vissica's whiskers spread in array slightly, nothing more.

"Thank you, Captain. Prepare a shuttle. I will be departing shortly for Coruscant."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Coruscant?"

Wygraant would suspect Lady Vissica took great delight in throwing him curve balls, if only she betrayed anything of the sort along that alien snout of hers.

"My Lady, the campaign on Mygeeto..."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"...is finished."

Vissica hooked her fingers under the bottom seam of her cuirass, anchoring her hands in that resting state.

"Their infrastructure has been crippled, and the ringleaders of the uprising have been killed. If further demonstration is required, bombard a city to its foundations."

The Selonian stepped past Wygraant, swiveling back before she left the room.

"I trust you are capable. Don't violate that trust."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Velm System



Another day had passed, and with their business on Contruum concluded with relative ease, Khera'Va'ss'io had moved on. His route was much the same as it always was; comfortable, predictable, and for the most part quiet. As the old Lupine cruiser burst from hyperspace into the Velm sector, s'Il watched from the viewport walkway, one hand on the railing as she took in the busy section of space before them. Velmor had become a bustling center of activity that boasted a large amount of trade, and the Alliance was a willing partner in helping the economy here grow and prosper.

Samus stood beside her, his own eyes trained on an invisible point far ahead of them.

She knew that he was still worried from the day before, and opted to address his unasked question.

"I will be well."

[Q. Samus Dage]

With his hands clasped behind his back, Dage took his eyes down to her.

"Is that so? I've seen you 'think' enough times to know that what that was... well, it wasn't thinking."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I was preoccupied."

A wave of her hand, and the Lupine let out a long breath as she half-turned to face him fully.

"It is nothing to be concerned over."

A voice from behind them interrupted, and KHER stiffly moved around his station to travers the expanse of the bridge, moving to stand at the bottom edge of the walkway stairs.

Captain, I am receiving a priority message from Nazzri.

A frown, and she looked past Dage to her ship's avatar.

"Priority?"

An Imperial probe was detected and neutralized as it crossed the border. The reserve forces there intercepted it.

She stood in silence as her thoughts returned to that first, initial contact. What had seemed inconsequential to her had apparently not been the case for Knight Vissica, and the Lupine couldn't help the frown that pulled down the corners of her mouth.

"Have they been able to find where it came from?"

Yes Ma'am. The Star Destroyer Decimator.

Her frown instantly deepened into a full scowl.

[Q. Samus Dage]

He too had turned to face KHER, and as he listened to the conversation there was a nagging feeling in his mind that whatever had happened to Lok the day previous, it was not too much of a stretch to think that an Imperial probe crossing the border and headed for Nazzri was connected. Somehow. At KHER's announcement of the probe's origin though, the lanky blonde could not help the crooked flash of a grin as his eyes shifted to the Captain once more.

"Your new friend missing you already?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The scowl remained as she looked up to Samus. A moment of silence, then she spoke.

"He is not my friend."

He at least put his hands up in a show of surrender, and the Lupine moved to step past him. She descended the stairs quickly, pushing past KHER on her way to the bridge's exit.

"I will be in my office; handle the transfer requests," came the final order as she disappeared through the door.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"ST-576, now clearing launch bay, setting approach for hyperspace entry."

The pilot and systems officer of the lambda class shuttle went through their pre-jump checks, communicating with the mother ship along the way as the shuttle moved past Mygeeto and the star destroyer. In the passenger cabin beyond, Vissica ignored the chatter. Her eyes slid closed as her face became completely impassive.

"Was your decision to renounce the Jedi born out of disagreement?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Fingers that had been furiously typing words on the translucent keyboard hovering over the aged wood of her desk froze mid-sentence. Eyes that had been narrowly staring ahead at the thin inset monitor suddenly found themselves staring through and past the letters glowing onscreen. Again. Again. For the third time she was disturbed.

"You are becoming meddlesome."

Unconsciously she bared her teeth.

"I am not here for you to simply bother when you feel bored of terrorizing others."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"I am not as capricious as you give me credit for being."

Vissica frowned at the insinuation, her small ears blading momentarily against her broad head.

"I respect the Jedi, or at least, I respect what they were. Your break with them makes me curious."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"My reasons are my own, and I have no desire to inform you of them at this point in time."

The brutish honesty displayed by the Knight was at least admired, and s'Il allowed herself to slowly lean back in her seat. The soft leather creaked under her weight.

"That I've received word of a probe coming from the Decimator tells me well enough that you are willing to bull past convention to get what you want."

There was no need to bring up the intended recipient of the message that she had been so furiously writing before the interruption.

"Are you worried that we will not meet again?"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

s'Ilancy's confirmation was welcome news, and the Selonian's whiskers raised.

"I wanted to make certain that our link was real, and not a figment of dream and desire. The probe was tangible enough to accomplish this."

The Captain's next question was considered carefully.

"Am I worried we will not meet again? Yes."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"The Force does not always give us what we want. What we need, yes. But want? That is hardly an occurrence."

She fell silent then, as if struck by her own words. There was a moment of consideration, however it soon moved on.

"As it stands, I have a healthy enough notion that you would not be so civil as you are now if we were in one another's company. So please, forgive me if I do not rush to soothe those worries."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica let the lecturing slide off her back. It was a desultory lesson, distracting from something else the Captain had said.

"Perhaps not. But we need not be adversaries, Loklorien s'Ilancy. You could come peaceably. Clemency comes only from the Empress, but if we were united in common purpose, it is possible."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I have no desire to be anyone's adversary; it is far too exhausting."

A hmph, and she closed her eyes. Thoughts washed over the words spoken to her, and the Lupine felt an inward sigh fighting to escape. She allowed it, but only accompanied by a question.

"And what sort of common purpose is that?"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"To restore peace and order to the galaxy."

Vissica's tone was reverant and hushed.

"It is what the Jedi stood for once. Before they lost their way to stand for nothing."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"In that case, I suppose that I could make the same offer to you."

It was unmistakable, the tonal shift and seriousness that the Knight's voice now held. It was also something that induced a sense of caution in her. That one would be so committed to the end result of peace that they were willing to use violence without a second thought... complete control was something no single government could have, and to think that was folly.

But, Vissica's last sentence at least pulled her back into the conversation, and she couldn't help but give a nod. Not in agreement, but rather acknowledgement.

"Everyone stumbles a bit."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The Selonian gave a slow and grave shake of her broad head.

"The Alliance is dissolute and decadent. They are full of the same sickness that killed the Republic. Lasting peace and order can only be achieved through one way, with one ruler."

Again came the refrain.

"Why did you part from the Jedi? Did you sense their own dissolution? Their lack of purpose in the galaxy? They used to represent something greater. Are you still on that search?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Goodbye, Matatek Sel Vissica."

Expelling a long breath, the Lupine pulled away. She was unwilling to speak of such a delicate thing to the Knight, and that the question continued to be asked was beginning to grate on her. Everything seemed to loop around to that query, and each time s'Il shut down in the face of it. Now was certainly no different.

She let her essence ebb into nothingness until the only one left inhabiting the dreamscape was Knight Vissica.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The shuttle snapped into realspace with a crack, cruising through the outer coronas of star traffic that constantly filled the approaches to Imperial center. The Knight opened her eyes, tensing and relaxing in a silent stretch as the crew in the cockpit negotiated their expedited approach.

"ST-576, requesting priority clearance to security administration district."

Clearance was granted, and the shuttle slipped beneath the bow of an orbiting Destroyer in permanent vigil. Two TIE fighters escorted the ship down towards the heart of the Empire's state security apparatus. Less grand than the Imperial Palace or the Citadel, the headquarters of Imperial Intelligence purposefully didn't draw many eyes. It was fortefied yet nondescript, a relatively squat and brutalist building set somewhat apart from other nearby structures.

"Inform the captain of the guard that I request an audience with Director Esalis."

The Systems officer nodded to Vissica's command, already patching a channel.

"Yes, my Lady."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

* * *


She had stared at the letters on the screen for far too long after removing herself from the other-worldly presence of Knight Vissica. They were terse, frustrated words that she'd typed, and perfectly conveyed her level of aggravation. But, they were also impersonal.

A huff through her nose, and s'Il reached over to grasp a thin stylus. A moment after that she swiped a hand over the translucent keys to cast them away. A crisp piece of white paper was pulled to sit in front of her, and what she had previously been writing was now put to actual, physical form. Digital representations were always so... detached, and she despised them when it came to things such as this. It was not especially long, but it was certainly to the point of matters. The recipient would no doubt understand the depths of her exasperation. She hoped. There was no surety with which she could guarantee such an understanding, but she could certainly trust that her frustrations would be noted.

But, it was not a missive that would be sent directly. Rather, she chose to utilize channels that were far more neutral. And to some, far more archaic.

No, this letter would be delivered by her normal courier to Jovan Station, with explicit instructions to only be opened by a single individual on his next visit to the station.



* * *

[R. S. Esalis]

Imperial Center
The office of Director Esalis



It was not every day that an Imperial Knight came to her office on such direct lines. The times were far fewer that it was an individual such as Matatek Sel Vissica.

R. S. Esalis had received the call for her attentions with a quiet, unemotional acceptance that betrayed nothing. She sat at her desk, choosing to busy herself with the normal day to day duties of her station - something to pass the time, at least. There was no curiosity at the reason for this seemingly sudden visit, and she certainly did not ask. No, the clouds would clear of their own accord - all she needed was to be patient. It was not a difficult task, and so Esalis waited.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The double doors to Esalis's office slid open, and Vissica pushed through with long strides, gathering herself to full height before the Director's desk.

"Director Esalis."

[R. S. Esalis]

She refrained from looking up, instead keeping her eyes on the datapad that she held firmly an unrelenting grasp. The fingers of her off-hand idly splayed, working in tandem to scroll the report that she was reading. There was a moment that hung in the air, passed in silence as she listened to the greeting. And then, the 'pad was gently set down to tick ever so slightly atop the glassed, black surface of her expansive desk.

"And you are Knight Vissica."

She leaned back in her seat, both hands coming together to intertwine slender fingers.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The selonian's meaty tail thumped on the ground behind her as she hooked her hands underneath the bottom of her armor cuirass.

"I need all the information you have available on Captain Loklorien s'Ilancy of the Alliance."

It was a straightforward request, born without any maudlin pleasantries.

[R. S. Esalis]

Was this some sort of joke? Some sort of prank that somehow her subordinates had managed to pull the Selonian Knight into?

Esalis immediately scowled, her crystalline blue eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. She had no time for such foolishness at her expense. Again she picked up her 'pad, intending to return to its' contents.

"Get out."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica's hands released from their perch, lowering to her sides in a dangerously deliberate motion.

"You would defy a Knight of the Empress?"

[R. S. Esalis]

"I serve the same Empress that you do."

Her voice held steel, and the Director's hardening gaze cut through the Knight before her. The very name of Loklorien s'Ilancy was enough to sour her entire day. Losing two individuals she'd sent out to collect the Lupine, and even a third - an agent - had left a decidedly bitter taste in her mouth. That she had also lost her old teacher, Erasmus Karrnage, was simply the icing atop the entire cake made of Sithspit.

"Unless you have something of use for me, I am not interested."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"I know she was recently in the Nazzri system."

The Selonian's voice was cool gravel as she kept careful check over her emotions. Despite the Director's combativeness, she needed her cooperation.

"There is more. I can communicate with her at will."

[R. S. Esalis]

"Can you, now."

She continued to stare at the Selonian Knight, still unsure if this was some poor attempt at ugly humor that the Knight General might have put this bruiser up to. It was out of his character though, and the notion was banished almost immediately.

"I've lost three individuals after sending them after her, one of which was a senior operative."

She continued to hold the 'pad; not ready to set it back down, but also not ready to return to its' contents.

"A word of caution, Knight. That woman is far more resourceful than you think. Just because you can use some old Force power trick to talk with each other does not mean that she will be placed in stuncuffs and sent to the executioner's block by evening time."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"The failure of your agents to apprehend Captain s'Ilancy is immaterial, Director. I am well aware of her resourcefulness. She has eluded me once already."

Vissica's words ended in a rumbled growl.

"I do not intend to lose her a second time. That is why I have come to you. I require information about my quarry."

[R. S. Esalis]

A stern look, but the Director chose to hold her tongue for the moment. The directness of Knight Vissica bordered on disrespect in the face of a superior, and for a brief moment Esalis entertained the notion of telling Atrapes to reign in his attack dog. It was a fleeting thought however, and with a long, exhaled hiss of breath she finally set her 'pad down onto her desk where it gave a quiet tunk atop the smooth surface.

Both hands came together then, elbows on the armrests of her chair.

"What sort of information are you hoping that I have, specifically."

It was true that there was a decent amount that she had, and she was not about to simply hand over the extensive file she kept on the Lupine Jedi simply because it was demanded by a lone Knight.

There were procedures to follow, and protocols to observe, after all.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"I have several requests."

The Selonian blinked heavily, raking her tongue over her muzzle.

"To begin, I wish to understand what Colonel Erasmus Karrnage was working on in relation to her. His field of expertise was in paraxenobiology. I know already that Captain s'Ilancy is no baseline human."

[R. S. Esalis]

"Mm."

Knight Vissica had very obviously done a thorough initial investigation.

"Colonel Karrnage was trying to prove a theory of mine."

Two fingers came apart, then tapped together before repeating the action.

"Which he did. And then he promptly disappeared."

It was still a contentious subject, but she moved on.

"But you are correct; Captain s'Ilancy is not human. Have you any theories on what she might be?"

She was curious to see just how much digging Knight Vissica had done.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

A low drone of a rumble sounded in Vissica's chest. She tensed and relaxed her hands.

"You are playing coy, Director."

Exhaling audibly in a hiss from her nose, the Selonian nonetheless played the game for now.

"When we fought, Captain s'Ilancy's eye color shifted from blue to gold. This coincided with a heightened amount of strength. Certain metamorph species exhibit similar tendencies, such as Felacatians. However, I do not believe she is a Felacatian."

[R. S. Esalis]

"Of course I am 'playing coy'."

That Knight Vissica had seen the first stages of the Change was interesting.

"You come to me with no warning, without official word. Rather, you simply drop into my lap and expect to be given free reign of confidential files. There are rules, Knight Vissica. In this Empress' Empire, we have an order that we adhere to. As a Knight of the Imperial Throne, I would hope that you already know and understand this."

Her hands came apart.

"Now."

Gripping the edges of her armrest, the Director of Imperial Intelligence rose slowly, taking her time in coming to her full height. And while she was certainly not as tall as the Selonian, there was a weight and finality to her posture.

"I will not be bullied in my own office like those who serve beneath you. You wish to know about Captain s'Ilancy? I will tell you what I know, but only on the condition that you act in the manner befitting one of your station."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"I must have Captain s'Ilancy." Vissica pressed, tightening a hand to a fist to the point of her callouses creaking.

"If this requires protocol, then you have it...."

Her hand slowly relaxed open as the Selonian gave a reluctant but deeply deferential nod of her head.

"...Director."

[R. S. Esalis]

There was a moment of silence shared, and in that moment Esalis gave an eventual slow nod.

"Thank you."

Once more she lowered herself to sit.

"Tell me, Knight Vissica. Do the Selonians have a bogeyman that they tell stories of? Any angry, yellow-eyed monsters that steal cubs in the night? Or perhaps you have heard stories from others about bed-time stories that are told to younglings to make sure that they go to sleep without fuss?"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"No." Vissica replied dismissively, her flews drawing up slightly in disdain.

"Stories are fiction. We have no taste for it."

[R. S. Esalis]

"Stories are the gateway to truths."

Esalis lifted a finger in correction; or lecture. Either worked for her.

"If you do not listen to the stories, you cannot know what to look for."

The finger lowered once more.

"Captain s'Ilancy is a Lupine. One of the last, in fact. She is not some Clawdite Changeling or Felacation that can be dismissed with the wave of a hand. Her people were created. They were made specifically to hunt Force Users."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Instantly, Vissica's almond eyes widened. Her entire posture stiffened as she drew in a sharp breath.

"I know this name. This species. Lupine. I know it."

The Selonian drew a hand to her chin as her dark eyes flicked left and right in thought. Thoughts upon thoughts.

"Tell me more about them. The Lupines."

[R. S. Esalis]

So she did know of them. But, there needed to be a baseline. An understanding of what exactly was known.

"Before I tell you, you must tell me what you know of them. I will admit that my knowledge is only what I have gleaned from old journals that have been recovered, but they are without equal in the knowledge that they have provided."

Her icy blue eyes narrowed.

"They are penned by the good Captain, after all."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"All I have is gleaned from a prisoner. She was taken from the throne world Pallaxides. We thought her connected with the attempt on the life of the Empress's consort, but I am no longer certain of this. Her name is Bryna Van Derveld."

Vissica was so close to a breakthrough here. She needed more.

[R. S. Esalis]

"Van-Derveld."

It was a name familiar to her, but only through the journals. A moment later her hand lifted to wave dismissively at the air.

"Interesting."

Esalis stared for a few moments as she thought on her next words.

"Captain s'Ilancy spent much of her time in exile, from what I have been able to gather. Her time was spent in solitude, with the occasional visit by her Life Partner."

A brief shrug was given then.

"An unfortunate existence for one such as her."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"Was any of this time spent on Cathar?"

Vissica raised her chin from her hand, pivoting to glance back at the Director.

[R. S. Esalis]

"All of it, actually."

How much did the Knight know?

"Our official records of her whereabouts go dark after an encounter on Akuria where, ironically enough, she was joined to her Life Partner by an Imperial Station commander."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"Dan Thrule."

Vissica was breathing more heavily now, her armor cuirass rising and falling noticeably.

"These journals. May I see them?"

[R. S. Esalis]

"Return tomorrow."

There was a level set to both her eyes and tone of voice.

"I have much to tend to here, right now, as you can no doubt see."

And truly, the mountain of 'pads and flimsis was substantial enough to warrant a second look. It was more than apparent that the Director of Imperial Intelligence was a woman most busy.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica's focus threatened to melt her hot heart through her breastplate. She was so close to a true breakthrough. The Selonian stared down at Director Esalis with unblinking coal eyes.

"Tomorrow. I will be prompt. Until then, Director."

With that, the Knight pivoted her stance and exited the office.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Vjun



Khera'Va'ss'io dropped into realspace with little to no fanfare, his hull muddled against the dark, starry expanse of the void that he called home. Ahead hung Vjun, a world that by all accounts was a harsh place to make one's living. And yet, so many had found a way to make a living despite the hardships of a planet bent on being as inhospitable as it could.

In her quarters, s'Il sat tiredly at the small desk that butted up against the small sofa in the compact living area of her quarters. A folder holding a smattering of flimsis rested in front of her, and in her hand she held a datapad. Thumbing through its' contents, the Lupine rested an elbow on the desk's surface, eye skimming the aurabesh displayed. Most of it was much the same; readiness reports, detailed listings of the activity along the border and where potential trouble spots might flare up. The quiet was undisturbed, and allowed her the peace needed to simply exist.

Of course, it was not long before her thoughts strayed, and slowly she let the 'pad down. A moment of curious thought passed, and with a groan, she reached out, leaning forward so that she could tap the holoprojector that'd been built into one corner of her desk.

It would be early morning on Ossus, according to one of the many wallchronos she kept along a wall.

A sequence of numbers that she knew by heart was quickly typed, and the call was placed. Now she only had to wait.

[Zem Vymes]

A hologram formed out of nothing, showing a man sitting cross-legged on the floor. He looked up at s'Ilancy, and smiled.

"Loklorien."

The smile seemed to fade slightly, as if he could sense something unsaid.

"What's wrong?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A frown settled across her features as she pulled in a long breath.

"I... have a problem."

Her hands came together, fingers folding around each other as she leaned back in her seat. There was a silence that fell, as she sifted through her thoughts in an attempt to best broach the subject of her concerns.

"Do you remember at the Temple, those old telepathy lessons? The ones that Master Tiin would sometimes have?"

[Zem Vymes]

Master Vymes raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly.

"Vaguely. Projection, shared experience bonding, that sort of thing. Why?"

Lok was mining ancient history in a sense. They were lessons carried onward to Ossus, but only piecemeal.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a moment as she considered his answer. That he remembered them in some form was good, and hopefully it would help.

"What about the Imperial Knights. What do you know of them?"

[Zem Vymes]

"Oh, those."

The Jedi Master's expression turned somewhat distant, thinking back to a moment.

"I had a run-in with one on a mission to Zeltros, perhaps a year ago. Baastian Cain. He was a formidable adversary, but it was strange. There was no darkness in him. He wasn't driven by the dark side, like the Sith or the Inquisitors. He simply saw things from a different point of view."

Zem shook his head, a look of regret taking hold.

"A shame."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her brow furrowed in though, mulling over his words. What he spoke of seemed to corroborate the feelings she had been receiving from Knight Vissica, but it did nothing in terms of settling her.

"I am being contacted," she looked away then, past the hologram and towards the far wall.

"The Knight I met on Manaan... "

A hand reached up to press into her temple, as if to alleviate a phantom pain.

"... she is relentless, and the lengths she is willing to go to to do this worries me."

[Zem Vymes]

"The Selonian?"

Zem leaned forward slightly, his demeanor shifting.

"Contacted, you mean by..."

That would explain her earlier question.

"She's reaching out to you. Why?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her frown shifted to a dark scowl.

"She says that she wants to know about me. About why I... am not a Jedi."

Of course, there was also the obvious.

"And well, there is also her promise to deliver me to Coruscant."

The hand fell away then, as the Lupine returned her eye back to Zem.

"Her continued interruptions are becoming bothersome."

[Zem Vymes]

"She's searching you out."

Zem could only conclude the obvious, given what he knew about their previous encounter.

"You're worried that there could be danger there? I am too. The Imperial Knights aren't the Sith. They're something new. Something we didn't expect."

He looked at Lok, searching that face he knew so well.

"What do you want to do?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

And that was the worst thing about all of this.

"I... don't know. I don't know what I can do, either."

That Knight Vissica possessed such drive to fulfill her 'promise' and was actually making good on it; it was enough to throw her into spiral of uncertainty. But, it did not mean that she could willingly accept it.

The frustration returned, and like a whip her hand came down, palm slapping the desk's surface.

"Dammit I am tired of this. I just want some peace, Zem."

Her eyes clenched shut.

[Zem Vymes]

"Let it go, Loklorien. There's nothing this Knight can do to you."

Zem shook his head.

"The war is over. Your family is safe. Whoever this Knight Vissica is, surely she'll tire herself out when she realizes this is all futile."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I don't think she's the type to tire herself out over this."

One eye cracked open as she stared at her hand. Fingertips scratched mildly along the metal surface until they tucked themselves in beneath a waiting palm.

"And I worry that something will happen."

[Zem Vymes]

It wasn't a warning without merit. Zem trusted Lok's feelings implicitly. The Jedi Master downturned his eyes, weighing the matters in his mind.

"All we can do is be vigilant, Lok. What else is there? Spring a trap? A preemptive attack? You know I can't advise those things."

Zem shook his head.

"I should come to you. Maybe there is something I can do at least. To keep Knight Vissica silent."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"No, stay where you are. I think it would be best for now."

It was a difficult thing to say, and the Lupine wished that she could take the words back, but she also had a suspicion that any attempts at silencing the Selonian Knight would only lead to something more unpleasant.

"Just, watch over the children. Please."

[Zem Vymes]

Zem gave a nod.

"You have my word they'll be safe. May the force be with you."

He smiled. There was more to be said here.

"I love you."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"Your quarters, Lady Vissica."

The junior officer escorting the Imperial Knight stood at the threshold of the doorway, extending his hand into the temporary apartment in the Intelligence Bureau's campus. Vissica glanced around the room with disinterest.

"It is adequate. Do not disturb me."

"Yes, my Lady."

The Selonian strode through the way, allowing the door to close behind her. She glanced at the single bed, dresser, and lavatory cubby, then eased down to sit on the floor. There was much to think about, but even more to take in. She wasn't satisfied yet; not hardly. A feeling beyond her drew Vissica's attention, and the Knight fixated her attention on a blank space of wall.

"The link is becoming easier. Why is that, do you think? Our combined relationship to each other? A matter of purpose? Destiny?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

They would be in orbit over Vjun for two days, and it would be time spent in audits of the ship's supplies. Certainly nothing particularly adventurous or interesting, but it was something that was necessary and had to be completed. At the very least, KHER made the whole thing much easier.

Tucked away in the back of the mess, she idly picked at the diced nuna and perabeans atop a small bit of rice. In her other hand was a flimsi, but the sudden narrowing of her vision jarred her enough to let it drop to the table.

Again everything around her seemed to dim, the noise shifting low as if coming from a great distance.

A long breath slowly escaped from her lips.

"There is nothing about this that is destiny. That it grows easier for you only means that it grows more unbearable for me."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica leaned forward. Her thoughts projected with more intensity.

"There is a way to end this. You know it."

However, the Selonian had no illusions about her nemesis and her willingness to take that option.

"I want to know about the Lupines, Captain."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

So strong was the connection that s'Il couldn't help but lean back, as though the hot, rancid breath was splashing over her face in angry waves. Which was nothing to say of this new question. It should not have been surprising however.

"What would be the point of me telling you about them?"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica unclasped her armor, carefully setting the cuirass aside.

"You're one of the last of your kind. An endangered species. Your fire is nearly out in the universe. You don't wish their story to be told?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"If their story is to be told, it will not be by one such as yourself."

Knight Vissica knew enough to grow her worries exponentially. What else did she already know?

"It matters little anyway. The state of my people is immaterial. I will warn you now, that your misguided obsession will not end the way that you think."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The Selonian's whiskers quavered slightly.

"Perhaps. It is not my intention to make idle boasts or threats. I may fail. If I do, I will be dead. Are you equally committed?"

Vissica didn't wait for an answer.

"You escaped the Jedi purge and spent a great deal of time in hiding on Cathar. You aren't the only Lupine to choose the world as a place of hiding."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"No of course I'm not," came the snapped reply.

Now it was she that pressed in, choosing to allow her presence to encroach upon the Selonian in suffocating fashion.

"I have fought stronger than you, Knight Vissica. I have waded into battle with one who defied death for a millenia, and I destroyed him. I will warn you only once - let this go. You are trying my patience."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The intensity of the projected thought pushed Vissica's ears flat against her head in response.

"We both know that I will not, Captain. There are only two outcomes. Either you surrender to me, or I will die. There is no other way. All that remains is how we arrive at one or the other."

The Selonian attempted another query.

"Who is Bryna Van Derveld to you?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

While she'd certainly never heard the name Bryna, she did know Van-Derveld. It was enough to narrow her eyes.

"The House of Van-Derveld is a cursed House. You would do well to forget about it."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The change in demeanor gave Vissica pause. She flicked her tongue briefly below her nose.

"That would appear so. She was apprehended on an Imperial throne world, under suspicion of attempted assassination of the royal consort."

The Selonian glanced at a raised paw, as if inspecting her claws.

"I would have thought the likelihood of two Lupines in hiding on Cathar to be too unusual to be coincidence."

With that, the Knight glanced back to the Jedi, as if gauging her response.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Impossible."

The word leapt out swiftly to fill the air between them, and s'Il felt her shoulders tense.

"There are only two Van-Derveld's left, and neither are named Bryna. Whatever game you've decided to play this go around, I am not amused."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"The other being her father."

The Selonian's small ears perked.

"Tell me about him."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

What was the Knight going on about?! Had she gone mad? Was there some sort of brainrot that afflicted Selonians that she'd not known of before? It was enough to send pangs of frustration through her senses as she felt herself dragged down some Hallesmutt-cursed hole.

"I do not know what you're talking about."

And it was the utter truth, spoken with a healthy note of exasperation woven into her voice.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

It was highly likely she was lying, but Vissica decided not to press the issue. Being able to communicate over great distance was feat enough. It was another feat entirely to discern emotional cues at that distance.

"Perhaps you do not."

The Knight withdrew from that question, averting her eyes in thought.

"I thought the survival of your species might be important to you. Important enough to settle an ancient grudge. Is this why the Lupines are nearly extinct?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"It does not matter why we are so few."

Collecting herself once more, she let out a long breath as her thoughts returned to their center.

"What I need from you now, is for you to stop. And think."

There was a slight pause, then she continued.

"These questions that you ask of me, do you truly think that I would be willing to answer them? That I would tell you of myself and my people when you have made plain that you've no other wish than to see me delivered to Coruscant as your trophy?"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"You speak of this as if it's the end. It need not be. It could be a beginning, Captain s'Ilancy."

Vissica leaned forward, almost pleadingly.

"With the Empress's clemency, you could be reborn as an agent of change, and help preserve order in the galaxy. I have pledged only to apprehend you. The terms of that end are up to you. If you wish to fight me, then I will fight you. If you are willing to consider other possibilities, they are there for you to discover."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I've heard this - how is the saying? This song before... ?"

It was nothing new, what the Selonian was now telling her. Even if Zem had not sensed any darkness in the Knight that he had faced, did not mean that the others were devoid of it.

"I do not wish to fight you, nor do I wish to join you."

Again the tiredness crept into her voice, and the Lupine felt her shoulders sag by a fraction of an inch, as if her next words were useless, yet still needed to be said.

"I just want to be left alone so that I can do the job I am supposed to do. And when that is done, I want to go away and be left in peace."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"There is no alternative."

Vissica's tone now was somber.

"Delay it as you wish, but you will have to make that decision. Others may pay the price for your refusal. You may be indifferent to the suffering of House Van Derveld, but I believe there is someone to whom you are not indifferent."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Those last words sent an unsettling pang to fire through her senses, and s'Il felt her body tense. In many ways she was not surprised that the Knight had ventured beyond the single being, choosing to explore those around her. The threat to herself was one thing, but to bring others into this...

"Choose your next words carefully, Selonian," came the low, unnatural growl. Each word was laced with an underlying tone of caution that cut viciously across the vast leagues that separated them, and there was no denying the sudden shift in the very essence of the Force that enveloped the Lupine in their shred state.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"Of course, Captain. My people always do."

Vissica's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Be assured, I mean everything I say."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a weighty silence that settled between the two, and s'Il became dimly aware of the Kaleesh cook, still ensconced behind her counter, staring her way.

"If you are quite done?"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The timing for once was mutual. The Knight gave s'Ilancy a nod.

"For now. I expect to have other questions later. Until then, Captain."

Vissica allowed their link to fall away, leaving the Selonian with a head full of possibilities to consider. She weighed them as she drifted to sleep, eschewing the bed in her quarters for the floor beneath it.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She felt drained, every ounce of strength sapped as her body fell back against the thinly cushioned backing of her seat.

And yet, there was a spark that burned deep as the Lupine stared down at her uneaten food. Her eyes narrowed, and ever so slowly, the exhaustion began to fall away as resolve and determination took its' place.

Her eye lifted then, and she looked to the Kaleesh a distance away, the old woman staring sternly back. A gnarled and weathered hand, still strong and firm, rose to set itself palm-down on the clear protective shield that hung over the food trays, and giving the Captain a slow blink, Idiri Su'ul Ahan'war punctuated her silence with a ponderous nod.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The next morning, Vissica promptly returned to Director Esalis's office. She paused at the reception desk, squaring to face the officer on duty.

"I am here to see Director Esalis."

The Selonian was eager to make good on her promising lead. Hopefully she would soon find something tangible to use in her pursuit of Captain s'Ilancy.

[R. S. Esalis]

The office was the same as it had been the day before. The large and almost imposing desk like a monolith that contained so many machinations through osmosis. What it had born witness to through so many years had in a way given the piece of furniture a life of its' own. And sitting behind it, Esalis was as ever-present as always. For as foreboding as the desk seemed, the feeling of a quiet dread could be found in the body that claimed it.

The glossy surface had been cleaned, and it was bare save for a thin leather journal and a small black onyx carving.

The Director's voice was level as the door whisked shut behind the Selonian.

"You are punctual, Knight Vissica."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The comment had the Selonian momentarily taken aback. Vissica blinked, her whiskers quavering.

"If I was not, I would be forsworn."

Humans held their words so cheaply. Vissica had to remind herself that they didn't always mean what they said, even when they didn't intend to lie.

"It is no matter. I am here. You have this journal?"

[R. S. Esalis]

One hand moved up to place a palm over the worn leather in a show of protection.

"I am not here to simply provide you with some passing fancy, Knight Vissica."

There was a warning held tightly within the arms of those words.

"This journal, it is mine. If you wish to read from it, you do so in the confines of this office. Am I understood?"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The musteloid deferred with a dip of her bullet-shaped head.

"I accept your terms, Director. I assure you, Loklorien s'Ilancy is not some passing fancy to me."

[R. S. Esalis]

There was another silent spell before the Director shifted, her wrist twisting so the her hand pivoted the journal around to face the Imperial Knight.

"Loklorien was young when she wrote this. Her penmanship is shaky and in some cases almost unreadable, but one becomes used to the ticks. Everything on these pages was penned before the Purge, mind you."

Another slight shift slid the leatherbound tome closer to the Selonian.

"But that is only for mild context. She wrote mostly about old stories that I would guess are generational parables and how she believed them to apply to her own life."

A slight hmph.

"If anything, I suspect what you find here will be a foundation to understanding the old mindsets of her people."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica's much-larger forepaw met at the journal, hovering in the no-man's-land of the middle of the Director's desk. Carefully, the Selonian rested her broad, calloused fingertips over the calfskin cover. She didn't have the same tactile sensitivity that Esalis likely had, but even so, Vissica could clearly tell that the cover was old, yet supple. Yet that was not what immediately captured the Selonian's attention. There was a connection on contact. A feeling - indistinct but clearly there. Her black eyes widened slightly, and Vissica quickly stole an upward glance to see if Director Esalis felt what she did. A moment later, the Knight checked her own feelings. The Director could read the words backwards and forwards no doubt, but this was for Vissica alone. She briefly withdrew her hand, turning it upwards to inspect as she drew her thumb across the two webbed fingertips, as if trying to physically isolate this feeling. A sudden desire to breathe rose in her chest - she had been holding her breath. Vissica exhaled, wetting her lips gently with her tongue as she returned her hand to the journal to gently open it up.

[R. S. Esalis]

It was interesting to see the Selonian's reaction to even just a touch of the old leather. Was it worrisome? Not necessarily. But it was certainly something to take note of. She'd already lost plenty of people to the endeavor of catching Loklorien s'Ilancy, and so the thought that she was watching a potential have such a reaction...

The journal opened up to one of the earlier pages, where the writing and writer were not so sure of their agency or being. Shaky penmanship, tenuous linemarks. Of course the further along in the journal one looked there was a confidence that had been gained, and it was easily evident in the writing, but in the early days it was... fear?


http://i255.photobucket.com/albums/hh126/silancy/journal-page.jpg (http://s255.photobucket.com/user/silancy/media/journal-page.jpg.html)

"Third day of Moon's Ending

I moved into my own room at the temple today. It's small but private. Master Windu said it was for the best. I'm glad to be alone, since the other padawans don't interest me with their little groups and stuff. My old roomate, Oa, was nice enough. Still though, it's nice to be the only one in a room. I can write and not worry about anyone trying to look over my shoulder.


Fourth day of Moon's Ending

I had a dream about Dat'ya again. He was sitting at the kitchen table and reading. I was behind him, but he ignored me. Then he said that I was getting old and growing up. He also said that I looked like Dama and it made him cry sometimes at night."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

There was a sense here of imposed isolation, a separation sought willingly. Vissica knew from exhaustive Imperial study that Jedi Master Mace Windu was as unconventional a teacher as he was a Jedi. Was this regimen of segregation a part of his teaching, or did it point to something else?

She continued reading. A few words broke from Aurrebesh into a script unfamiliar to the Selonian. She glanced up to Esalis.

"These words here. What are they?"

From the context of the other words, she surmised that they must be names of people, or perhaps titles.

[R. S. Esalis]

The Director never let her eyes leave the Knight.

"It has taken my linguistics offices a fair amount of time to decipher the occasional peppering of her more... unreadable notes. Even so, they've only been able to piece together a small, bare bones version of the language she uses. Much of the complexities are still lost on us, but a few things we were able to translate."

Finally she looked back down to the open pages.

"Dat'ya and Dama - Father and Mother, respectively. She wrote about each one often throughout the journal with enough frequency that we were able to figure those out relatively quickly. The others... " her hand waved to the air above the book, "... Akha'ba tu'ek... is a bit harder. I'm told that the 'ek', when it is used at the end of a word, may signify reverence or importance. The rest of that little phrase I'm afraid we've not deciphered yet."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica listened intently as she cradled the book in her broad paws. She relaxed her eyes, letting the strange script blur in her vision. She stooped her head down until her nose almost touched the parchment, then drew in a breath through her nose. The smells were old. There was little there that still remained of the author. The Selonian carefully turned the pages.

"I will ask her of these words."

Vissica peered over the pages at the Director.

"I would like your linguistics notes, and a copy of this journal. There must be something in these pages I can use. She has taken great care to preserve her past here. If she cares of it, she will not sever herself from it."

[R. S. Esalis]

There was a moment of consideration before the Director finally offered a conciliatory nod.

"I will provide you with what you wish."

Still though, it felt all the same... like every other time that she sent a body out to find Loklorien s'Ilancy; destined to fail. She let herself lean back in her chair, eyes calmly upon the Selonian.

"However, do not be surprised if your searches prove fruitless, Knight Vissica."

Her hands came together, fingers lacing.

"I wish you luck."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"Luck is an illusion. There is only the force."

The Selonian's small ears pressed slightly flush. She inclined her head, as if to signal that she at least understood the intent behind the Director's words.

"We shall see."



* * *


She did not dawdle. Once her shuttle had lifted off from Coruscant, Vissica left the company of her pilot for the solace of the cabin. It was but a few moments more before she found the object of her curiosity through the force.

"What is the meaning of Akha'ba Tuek?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Thankfully, she was in her quarters when the stabbing spike of intrusion slid in to her awareness. The stylus she held grew still, the movement a halting one that seemed to rock her entire body into an unnatural stillness.

Akha'ba Tu'ek

There was a short amount of silence that filled the mindscape between herself and her intruder.

Akha'ba Tu'ek

Finally.

"Why does it matter."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Earnestly, Vissica turned the question around.

"I was hoping that you could tell me."

She paused, inclining her head slightly.

"You wrote of it once, many years ago. Does it have to do with your mother? Your father?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"It is nothing but a silly bit of wordplay that does not translate to Basic very well."

She supposed that there was no real harm in answering the question. Knight Vissica was relentless, and had - it seemed - stumbled upon a scrap of writing from long ago. Did it surprise her? No. The Imperial Knights had set themselves up in the old Temple, and so she supposed that somewhere there was a small portion of her old journals left to find within its' walls.

The thought of it, she vaguely remembered writing a page of musings over being allowed her own quarters, and doodling a few House Crests. She couldn't help the light chuckle, masking it behind a hmph.

" 'Cask of the lost blood', would probably be the best interpretation. It is meaningless and something that warrants no further thought."

Akha'ba Tu'ek

It did make her wonder though, the fate of House Kasch, and what had befallen them on Rattatak. None knew. Perhaps one day she would find out?

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

There was something unsaid here. Wordplay, metaphors, and the like. It was distasteful to Selonian aesthetics, but Vissica had to overcome the limits of her sensibilities. Thoughts creased her heavy brow and for a moment, she said little.

"Cask of the lost blood. Does this refer to cursed houses of Lupines?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"It does not."

And it was the truth. What was perplexing however, was the steadfast determination that Knight Vissica possessed to keep these little contact points going.

The Lupine let out a long breath then, he eye unfocused and her stylus still unmoving.

"As I said, it is nothing but word play, and not even very good word play, at that. Now. Is there anything else? I have reports to finish."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"Why did you write of it, when recollecting a dream of your father?"

There wasn't any implication assigned to Vissica's question. She was asking herself as much as she was asking s'Ilancy.

"You are different from so many Jedi of the old order. You came into Master Windu's tutelage far older than most padawans. You lived among your people, learned their language, their customs."

She paused.

"Were your parents still alive when you left for Coruscant?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The avenue now being sought was one too close for comfort, and the Lupine couldn't help but scowl in the not-quite-dreamstate. It was worrisome, this new line of questioning, and she had to wonder exactly what it was that the Selonian Knight had gotten a hold of. A journal, that much was known. An old one too, if she was to go by the knowledge being laid out before her. One that had been written during her time at the Temple; though, she'd written many during her time there, so exactly which one was currently escaping her recollection.

"I have never lived alongside those of my own kind," she began coldly, a tone of bitterness lacing the undercurrents of her tone.

"You are assuming an awful lot in regards to my upbringing, Knight. One journal is a poor insight into a being's core, and whichever one of those old books of mine that you have, I would not treat it as such an open window."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The Selonian's demeanor changed. Her eyes widened at the admission.

"Interesting. You pay an extraordinary amount of reverence to the culture of a people you never lived among. What did Master Windu have to say of this? Did he encourage it?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her patience was at an end, and though unaware, she had slapped her stylus down to the surface of her small writing desk.

"You are beyond the proper bounds of whatever... this... is. It is unbecoming."

The indignation raised now was not so much one of a captain or once-Jedi, but rather an Apex. A High Blood. To have such queries placed upon her was improper. It was informal and chaotic to her own innate demand for order. It was a deep-rooted Losstarot trait, and it came to the forefront of this intrusion with a particular vehemence.

"What we know of each other at this point in time does not allow you some sort of secret knowledge into who I am. You are unworthy of that enlightenment, Knight Vissica. Your blood is fouled and it is a wonder that I can stomach your scent, even now."

Her free hand came to rest on the desk, palm down as her mind pulled from the Force, her thoughts twining themselves into a wall that was unwilling to allow any more intrusion.

"Su wehg ne'ss'talo, Un'rehn'ehl*."

A bare moment later, the connection was severed with such force as to cause the Lupine to rock back in her chair in both suddenness and intensity.














*Be gone, Unclean One

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The trauma of the severed connection sucked the breath from Vissica's chest. She gasped, black eyes widening in the dim light of the shuttle cabin. The Selonian tried to catch her breath, and to still the thumping of her overstimulated heart. She tried to stand, faltered, then collapsed to the deck in convulsions. The troopers posted to her detail immediately converged on her, rolling the large alien onto her back. Vissica's mouth frothed, and the nictating membranes half obscured her rolling eyes as she spasmed.

"Pilot, we have a medical emergency. Lady Vissica has collapsed. Signal the Decimator to have a medical crew on standby!"

[Rolth Wygraant]

One Hour Later...


They had very nearly lost her.

Lady Vissica's shuttle had signaled for an emergency midpoint rendezvous, and skidded for a hot landing in the main bay. Thanks to the efforts of the troopers with the shuttle's medical kit, they were able to keep the Selonian alive long enough to have her rushed to the infirmary, where the medical droids plunged her into a column of bacta. The diagnosis was a murky one - atypical cardiac trauma. A strange affliction to befall someone at the paragon of physical fitness.

Captain Wygraant watched the Selonian as she slumbered in the bubbling vat. A breathing mask was fitted tight against her muzzle, and vitals probes inserted at various points on her lengthy frame. It was disconcerting to see her in such a peaceful and unguarded state. She swayed in the liquid, muscles occasionally twitching but remaining otherwise more serene than he had ever seen her.

"What happened?"

[Reikkel Orgern]

Captain Orgern's cap was tucked under the crook of his arm. He didn't make eye contact with Wygraant, obviously as transfixed by the strange sight as the Star Destroyer skipper was.

"I debriefed the troopers. One minute she was meditating. The next, she was on the floor. They were able to induce metabolic stasis. Her heart stopped cold."

He shook his head. At best, he felt ambivalent on the turn of events. It was a dangerous but not implausible thought that he might be better off if the Selonian didn't survive. Orgern's hand tightened around a datapad in his grasp. He held it up for Wygraant to take notice.

"She had returned from Coruscant with this. It looks like a journal."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant took the journal from Orgern, giving it a cursory glance. A few lines in, and his expression changed.

"Loklorien s'Ilancy."

He looked up, a perplexed expression on his face as he met Orgern's own.

"Post guard on the infirmary. Have your men inform me at once when Lady Vissica is conscious."

Orgern clicked his heels, offering a curt nod as Wygraant exited the room.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

* * *

She had sat in her chair, leaned up against its' backing for the better part of ten minutes. Her eyes stared into the far distance as she felt her chest constricting, as if trying to collapse inward. Her entire body felt unresponsive, and the Lupine eventually screwed her eyes closed as she willed herself to simply remain unmoving, to allow allow her own metabolism to counteract whatever was happening.

Fifteen minutes.

Thirty minutes.

Eventually she was able to stand, though unsteady on her own two feet, and with great effort moved to her small bunk. She tugged at the duty jacket she wore, unclasping the polished buckles and pulling the garment free. Her undertunic came next... there was a terrible feeling of suffocation that spurred her actions, and as she lowered herself to sit, she couldn't help but lift a hand up to her chest, as though the action would help her heart to continue beating. Her breath was short, she felt deprived of oxygen...

And yet, to the credit of her species, she did not succumb. Rather, she simply persevered.

Forty-five minutes.

One hour.

Sat on the edge of her bed, she hunched over slightly, eyes open to stare at her boots still firmly planted upon the deck, one hand over her chest, and the other having reached out to rest upon the manufactured surface of the small nightstand.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Captain Wygraant returned to his office, bringing the journal of Loklorien s'Ilancy with him. With few clues to gain insight into Lady Vissica's mysterious affliction, the Captain had little else to go on beyond what he held in his hands. He began to read, finding himself somewhat lost in the weeds by the accounts of a young padawan in the twilight days of the Republic. What did this have to do with Vissica?

A chime interrupted his reading. Rolth set the pad off to the edge of his desk as he pressed the intercom button.

"Yes?"

"Captain Wygraant, we are receiving a coded transmission from our diplomatic attache on Jovan Station. A courier message has been delivered, for your eyes only."

Now that was peculiar. In the era of HoloNet transmissions, who sent physical messages? His eyes drifted back to the datapad, with its scans of pages from a physical journal in age-yellowed ink. He began to think on this - to consider all the variables before him. Was all of this related, or had he simply been under the shadow of a force adept or too long?

"Has there been any update on Lady Vissica's condition?"

"No sir. The medical droid has stabilized her, but she is still unconscious."

The affair on Mygeeto had been concluded. Until the Admiralty had use of them elsewhere, Wygraant had a longer leash to carry out his duties at his best discretion. He had to believe that Vissica would trust his instincts here.

"I see. Inform the helmsman to plot a course for the Hydian frontier. Send an advance notice to Jovan station before we jump to light speed, and inform them of our arrival. I want this to be done above board."

[Kes Akiena]

* * *


Jovan Station



He was in his office, closed off from the rest of the command hub, and for the time being, everything was blissfully quiet. The ever-present hum from outside, of his staff communicating with one another, as well as with the ships outside had become a rather soothing sound, and one that - so long as it was unbroken by harsh tones - meant that all was as it should be.

Which was a very good thing for him.

A majority of his own duties had been completed, and leaning to the side, Kes reached for the drawer that held his newest prized possession. It slid open at the touch of a finger, and almost reverently he pulled the slim, plastic-covered book out. Bright colors and pristine artwork was soon set before him; a first edition copy of Captain Coruscant, issue 21. It had the first-ever appearance of Nexuman, and he had spent months scouring the depths of HoloBay, and even Endor Marketplace for the rare collector's jewel that he was now staring down at.

Reverently, the redhead placed both hands on either side of his new treasure, basking in the glow of ownership.

Until the door chime sounded, and his head snapped up.

The person on the other side didn't even wait for a reply it seemed, and the door whisked open mere milliseconds later as he quickly moved a pile of flimsis over to rest atop the comic, obscuring it from sight.

[Kiimiti Taassaurra]

"Commanderr, jI have a..."

Preita'rrou Kiimiti Taassaurra froze in her tracks, as if her brain was catching up with her actions to warn that she was considerably south of protocol. The Cizeri officer's eyes widened and she immediately swallowed her words, changing tack as she wrung her white-gloved hands.

"Oh. Um, ss-ssorrrjy ss-ssjirr. Arre jyou b-bussjy?"

[Kes Akiena]

"Not at the moment, come in."

He waved her the rest of the way into his office, one hand gesturing for her to approach.

"What can I do for you?"

[Kiimiti Taassaurra]

With visible relief, Kiimi passed the threshold, remembering to take a breath. She collected herself with another breath, and smoothed her gloved hands down the hemline of her jacket before starting again.

"We've rrecejived jinbound c-c-communjicationss frrom an jImperrjial desstrrojyerr. Thejy arre headed ourr w-w-wajy."

[Kes Akiena]

"Is that so."

Not exactly alarming, but not entirely expected, either. With the Empire having sent their own diplomatic party to take up residence, a destroyer occasionally visiting was bound to happen. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on either side of the stack of flimsis, hands coming together to twine fingers atop the pile.

"Ship's name and ETA?"

[Kiimiti Taassaurra]

Back in the professional saddle, Kiimi dispensed information more or less professionally, finally allowing her fidgeting hands to drop to her sides.

"The d-desstrrojyerr rregjissterrs asss the Decjimatorr, and wjill b-be arrrjivjing wjithjin one dajy. Thejy clajim thejy arre on a mjisssjion rrelatjing to the jImperrjial embasssjy, and d-decljined to prrovjide furrtherr detajilss."

[Kes Akiena]

Decimator.

Of course.

"Well then."

That there was really no real reason given for the visit, other than something to do with the Imperial presence aboard the station... it was damned frustrating on its' face. But, he simply nodded. His relationship with the Decimator's skipper, Rolth Wygraant, was professional at best and at least from his side of things nice and minimal.

Another second of silent thought passed before his features creased into an easy-going smile.

"Then I suppose we'd better prepare Spire Two to receive them."

[Kiimiti Taassaurra]

The comms officer gave a stern-faced nod.

"Ya ve. The Trrade Admjirraltjy alsso wjisshess to be jinforrmed of jImperrjial arrrjivalss. Sshall jI jinforrm them asss well?"

[Kes Akiena]

"But of course."

The Trade Navy and the Alliance were in this endeavor together, and it went against everything the station stood for to keep one or the other out of the loop.

"Make sure that they understand the information on this visit is less than extensive, and that they only know as much as we do."

He let out a breath then.

"And while you're doing that, I suspect I should inform Mr. Harth; or his aide, Ms. Sevon."

[Kyryanu Sevon]

* * *

The receiving area of Spire Two was sparsely populated, with only a scant few deck crews and maintenance personnel littering the area. Most had vacated, as the normal civilian traffic had been diverted to the other Spires for the duration of Decimator's visit.

Standing with her own small retinue of underlings, Kyryanu Sevon stood patiently, black-gloved hands remained at the small of her back, clasped together with ease. She'd been given leave by Mr. Harth to deal with this matter, since he was currently off the station for the time being, and so she approached the news of this visit with her normal quiet demeanor. No doubt it had to do with the antiquated letter that had been hand-delivered by courier four days previous. That was still in her office. She was not so simple as to bring the thing with her here. No, there was a level of procedure and protocol that always needed to be adhered to. It was what separated the Empire from the rest of the scrabbling governments of the galaxy.

However, it'd not stopped her from staring at the thing when she was alone. The name it bore on the back of the envelope had triggered a memory a bit too close to home.

"What do you think is in the letter?"

"I couldn't tell you, Mr. Lei."

Carston Lei stood slightly behind and to the side of her, his close-cropped dark hair matching dark brown eyes. He stared at her, then at the other two in attendance. They both shrugged, but said nothing.

"No wild guesses?"

Her lips pursed in the beginnings of annoyance, and her eyes shifted upwards before her upper body twisted slightly, affording him a cautionary stare.

"None. Whatever is in that envelope is for Captain Wygraant, not us."

[Rolth Wygraant]

The Decimator had docked a half hour ago. It was enough time to issue orders to keep a close watch on the pair of Cizeri galleons that had arrived in-system at the same time of their approach. They had maintained polite distance, but it was clear enough that they were patrolling space in order to keep an eye on his ship. No difficulties were expected, however, so Wygraant saw fit to grant two days of liberty to his crew. There were extensive limits on what that meant in a place like Jovan station, so he didn't expect any trouble to come of it.

As the heavy airlock doors of the spire cleared way, Captain Wygraant took the first steps aboard. His guard detail of two stormtroopers was a beat ahead of him. They stopped just past the threshold. Captain Wygraant moved past his guards, and stood shoulders-squared toward the officer assigned to greeting detail. It was curious, he noted, that it was not Ambasador Hask.

[Kyryanu Sevon]

She watched the Captain with a note of curiosity, but only in so much as was necessary. In the back of her mind she was off somewhere else, enjoying a bit of time to herself in the quiet of idle thoughts. This posting, here on Jovan, had become actually quite enjoyable. There were enough distractions to keep her occupied, and enough duties to fulfill that she was kept relatively busy. Each and every thing that she did was completed to exact specifications, and there was a certain bit of pride that she retained, knowing that her work spoke well for her. She was loyal, but perhaps most important, she was not... unstable.

"Captain Wygraant."

Taking a half-step forward, she nodded respectfully.

"Mr. Harth wishes to express his regrets at not being able to greet you personally."

Behind her, she knew that her underlings were standing stiffly at attention.

A thin, almost not-quite-there smile drew the corners of her lips the slightest of ticks upward as she completed the process of formality.

"Welcome to Jovan, Captain."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Tight-lipped, Rolth took the briefest of glances left and right of Sevon, as if to take stock of the venue that was supposedly bidding him welcome. His first visit since the partition wasn't on enjoyable terms, and this visit seemed to promise little better.

"Hmm. Quite. I've granted eligible crew a day's leave. No doubt they will take better advantage of the welcome than I can. I trust you already know why I'm here?"

[Kyryanu Sevon]

She gave him a curt nod.

"I know, yes."

With a slight sidestep, she bade him to walk with her. Her own small gathering of underlings parted to allow a path leading from the receiving area of the spire.

"It is not exactly something that is of the normal conventions," her own perplexed feelings on the matter bled ever-so-slightly through into her tone, "... but we are equipped to handle such matters. If you have worries over propriety, then I would like to put those concerns to rest now."

The two began the trek from the Spire.

"For what it is worth, Sir, about all the information I can give you is that the envelope is quite... old-fashioned."

[Rolth Wygraant]

The younger Sevon spoke in a distinctly diplomatic sort of way. That wasn't quite the compliment it appeared on the surface. She wasn't so much as marking conversation as she was framing a legal document in her head to be read aloud. It was difficult to walk in cadence in a conversation that meandered, and captains spent so much of their time in conversations while on the hoof, so to speak. Still, one didn't serve in Death Squadron and survive by externalizing their distaste. Captain Wygraant was an officer and a gentleman. He kept his upper lip stiff, and his lower one buttoned.

Eventually, Sevon got to the point. Rolth nodded with a neutral "mm," finding the quirky medium fitting.

"Yes, well I think I'd say the same thing about the sender."

They were skirting the limits of the sort of conversation they could have about the issue in open public, so Wygraant tabled it for the point they were within the Consulate and it's safe room. He picked a safer topic.

"While we are docked, the Decimator is capable of tending to resupply and personnel rotation. You'll have your staff pass their needs to my executive, Commander Belgen. Are there any other matters we can assist in?"

A melange of aliens disgorged from the central spire access that would take them to the concourse. The Captain held his ground until they cleared.

[Kyryanu Sevon]

She gave him a shake of her head as the last of those heading for the main concourse trickled away.

"None. Myself and the rest of my staff will see to everything necessary."

Everything now was routine and rote. It was something that she'd done enough times before. The offer - for one of her tenure - was mostly out of formality, and it was with that very same formality that she responded with. Protocol within protocol, after all.

A lift arrived, and thankfully vacant, she gestured for him to enter. Following close behind, the rail-thin brunette let her features rest in curious thought as the doors closed and they were sent downward to the Ambassadorial level. It was honestly a rather impressive renovation that the Alliance and Cizerack had performed, and the workmanship put into the entire level had been nothing short of admirable. Each government seemed to have their own allotted space, and the Empire had been graciously offered one of those plots. The consulate itself mirrored much the rest of Imperial aesthetic, and as their lift slowed to a stop, she again motioned for the Captain to exit first.

While not quite as populated as the other levels, there were still groups of delegates and ambassadorial staff milling about.

"In keeping with convention, I suppose it is my turn to offer you and your crew any necessary assistance while you're here."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"We've had something of a medical incident en route to this rendezvous, but I don't anticipate needing to escalate it to the station's services. One of our, er - crew, has suffered a heart condition. With luck, they will make a quick recovery."

Again, there was painfully little else that could be said here. Fortunately, they were nearly at the one place on the station which they could speak with candor. The troopers guarding the open blast door entrance of the Imperial Consulate stood to attention as they approached. Wygraant gave a casual tap to the brim of his cap, and passed the threshold. The moment he was inside, he pulled his cap free from his thinning blonde hair, and began to work his gloves off his hands.

"When was the Khera'va'ssio last docked at this station, Miss Sevon?"

[Kyryanu Sevon]

It was as though a constricting banded python had been been cut loose, and for her own part, Kyryanu allowed a small bit of stiffness to leave her shoulders. This time, she led the way through the consulate, further into its' depths. Down a short hallway and into one of the far rooms that had been reserved for sensitive meetings.

She tugged at her own black gloves, first one hand, then after a moment's hesitation the other. She'd not exactly introduced herself, but the Decimator's captain was one who knew to do his homework well enough to know a few of the more poignant details of her dossier.

The jointed metal fingers of her prosthetic momentarily gripped the back headrest of the closest chair as she moved deeper into the room and her ultimate destination, a small lockbox that rested at the far end of the glossed table.

"About three weeks previous. Captain s'Ilancy generally tends to stay for a minimum of two days, and only leaves her ship to meet with Commander Akiena. Her crew spends more time on the station than she does."

[Rolth Wygraant]

His attention rested only momentarily on the prosthetic hand before returning to Kyry's eyes. He'd only known of Khendon Sevon through intermediaries and reputation, but it was all shaded by a dark cloud. Before his fall from grace, the Director of Project Nightmare had been an especially chilling agent of the Empire, with a penchant for pet projects. Wygraant idly wondered if he was glimpsing some of the fallout in the flesh.

"Do they make port at Jovan regularly? If so, when will they be expected?"

He knew, of course, that such timetables were at the whim of circumstance and a Captain's judgment. Since Captain s'Ilancy had sent her missive here in care of the Consulate, she likely expected him to be reading it more or less now. Wygraant wondered if the timetable was already out the window to begin with.

[Kyryanu Sevon]

"Fairly regularly, yes Sir."

With a smooth motion she pulled the chair back, then stepped to the side.

"As for when their next scheduled layover is, I'm afraid it's not for another week."

One of the many perks of her posting was becoming familiar with and even - to an extent - included in the comings and goings of the many ships here. Whether they be from the Pride, the Alliance, or others, it seemed that those who now staffed Jovan took seriously their mandate of inclusion.

Now though, her tasks were minimal, and Kyryanu performed exactly as she was expected.

One hand clutching both gloves, she swept both behind her as she put more distance between herself and the Captain.

"If you wish for privacy, I will wait for you outside."

[Rolth Wygraant]

He dismissed her polite overture with a small wave of a hand.

"That won't be necessary. I'll view the document now, if you will."

[Kyryanu Sevon]

It wasn't exactly what she'd expected, and she stood for a moment in time, staring at him before halting her stride and turning to face him. Most of those she dealt with preferred to read their messages in private, and each time she had obliged. But now was different, and she gave a gracious nod. Her prosthetic came around from where it had been at the small of her back, and she graciously gestured to the lockbox that still rested at the head of the table.

"It has been keyed to your thumbprint. The letter is inside."

She was nothing if not professional, and making certain that sensitive documents were protected had become second nature.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Captain Wygrant passed his thumb over the biometric reader. The catch broke with a soft click, and he opened the lockbox immediately. Inside was an envelope, with his own name scrawled in what appeared to be ink. The back was sealed with a wax stamp, with care that was almost artistry. Rolth respected it as much as he could, plying a fingernail beneath the wax until the seal cleaved from the heavy paper backing.

He opened the envelope, drawing out a tri-folded sheaf of paper, which he carefully smoothed out before squaring it under his vision to read.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

I do not expect you to find this letter particularly enjoyable. As I write, I myself find none. My patience for such activities is admittedly very small, as corresponding with those in the Empire is not a practice that I engage in. As well, I know some of your views on the Force and those who use it, so I have the suspicion that what I speak of now will be met with the same amount of enthusiasm I currently possess. But at this point in time, it is imperative that you listen to my warning. I do not send you this lightly, and I hope that you are able to mitigate in some fashion what is happening.

The Selonian, Vissica. Her convictions are admirable to a degree, but she has gone too far, even for her. She dabbles in old ways that are dangerous and may destroy her if she continues. This is not some missive or plea for peace on my own behalf; I know better than to do that to you. But rather I implore you to curtail this foolish notion of hers. Her pride and need to fulfill a promise will kill her if she does not stop.

It is a high chance that you will have little - if any - success, but I am compelled to caution you either way, for her sake.

What she is doing is something that even the old Masters respected enough to be wary of.

I wish you luck, and I truly hope that she has not passed by the time you read this.






- Loklorien s'Ilancy

[Rolth Wygraant]

Few people that Captain Wygraant knew spoke to and about their enemies the way Loklorien s'Ilancy did. Even before he laid the letter on the table next to the datapad with the scannings of her journal, Rolth knew the letter contained her words. Nevertheless, he looked at both, finding the writing style to be similar enough to erase any suspicion or doubt.

It didn't escape Wygraant that he now had a severe dilemma on his hands. Captain s'Ilancy's ship would arrive within the week. Although he intended to leave before that, how would he explain this to the Knight? The weight of the thought sank Rolth into a chair, and he tossed the letter on the table.

[Kyryanu Sevon]

She watched him read, trying to decipher his expressions. To his credit, Captain Wygraant held himself to a standard that not many could boast of. She had become somewhat adept at reading reactions, but the man was as a faceless creature. There was a tension in his shoulders that seemed to build however, and she latched on to that small tell.

He lowered into his chair, the letter dropped to the table in what she suspected was exasperation. At least, to her that was how it looked. For a few seconds she watched him, knowing that the silence was only going to become more annoying. Well, for her it would be; there was no telling how he would feel of it.

Her stance shifted to rest her weight largely on one leg. Both hands came up then to settle atop the headrest of the chair at the opposite side of the table from the Captain.

"Sir, if you would permit, may I offer some personal advice?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

He didn't meet her eyes, instead staring ahead at the neglected letter, which had collapsed back into it's fold so that its contents obscured themselves from his sight.

"By all means."

[Kyryanu Sevon]

Her tone became a shade darker, her expression clouded by unseen stormclouds.

"I know who has sent you that letter, and I feel it my duty to recommend you stay as far away from her as possible. There have been enough people who've stood against her that are forever changed, and it is not a change for the better."

The fingers of her remaining hand gripped the headrest tighter.

"My brother was one of those people, and I am still trying to salvage the pieces of our family name from the madness he fell into after his encounter. No one knows where he is now, and it is probably a good thing."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"I'm well aware of who and what Captain s'Ilancy is, thank you Miss Sevon. There are more pressing things to fear than her."

He drummed his fingers on the table, trying to find a rhythm to match his thoughts. He stopped, laying his palm on the letter, sliding it back to him to read again. His eyes then met Sevon, and he inclined his head slightly.

"Right now, I'm trying to avoid a war."

[Kyryanu Sevon]

She merely nodded in response, fairly certain that what weighed on his mind was what he felt to be most important.

His last words confirmed that, and there was a fleeting look of mild confusion that passed over her face.

"War, Sir?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

He let her question die on the vine. It would take too long to answer to Kyry's satisfaction, and it would do too little good to humor her. Rolth stood up, tugging the bottom hem of his jacket down sharply as he did.

"I have some other business to attend to on the station. I will return within the day with a sealed diplomatic cargo. You will have instructions for dealing with it at a later time."

He paused, looking at the junior diplomat almost apologetically.

"I'm sorry. From here on, I think that the less you understand of what I'm doing, the better for you it will be."

[Kyryanu Sevon]

She didn't question his words, and instead gave only a small nod.

"Very well, Sir."

His non-answer was glaring though, and she felt the tempting rise of curiosity over this whole endeavor. Except... it was not her place to pry. Rather, Kyryanu only made sure that her services were assured. Ultimately she had no interest in skating the line of interaction with Captain s'Ilancy, but this quandary in its' whole was... different.

"And your letter?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant paused, looking to both the neglected letter and the datapad on the table.

"Secure them both. Place them with the parcel I will entrust to you. It may be necessary to preserve them, and I think that will be acutely important."

He gave a pained look, met Kyry's eyes, and softened it as he began to sheathe his hands once more into gloves.

"I must speak with the station commander. Can you make the arrangements?"

[Kyryanu Sevon]

"I can."

Another nod, and stepping back just a small bit, she moved forward to skirt the table. The chair he'd vacated was pushed in, and carefully she slid the folded paper once more into the envelope. Together with the 'pad, she replaced them in the lockbox, keyed the lock to a numbered cypher, and closed the lid. A delicate cla-tack sounded as it sealed shut.

"What sort of timetable shall I give him?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

Gloves now situated, Wygraant fitted his cap snugly atop his head.

"Promptly."

[Kes Akiena]

* * *

The request had come through the normal official channels from the Imperial Consulate, a simple message that he knew to hold a note of immediacy. Still sitting in his office, Kes had sent his return message quickly, knowing that expediency was the preferred speed. Both for himself, and apparently Captain Wygraant as well. Miss. Sevon's words had been to the point and there was no misunderstanding the need for swift action. Or at least, a swift acknowledgment.

His desk had been cleared, and he now waited for the inevitable visit that was to come. However long that visit lasted he had no idea, but he did what he could to keep an open mind. Whatever the Imperial Captain had in mind to discuss he could not guess, and the redhead settled for simply browsing a datapad of future scheduled berths as he waited.

[Rolth Wygraant]

The chime issued, and given the necessary clearance, Captain Wygraant entered Commander Akiena's quarters. He took three strides in, squared his feet, and clasped his hands behind him.

"Commander Akiena. I'll be brief to the point. I have a special request to make of you."

[Kes Akiena]

The 'pad had been set down, and Kes took in the concise manner with which Rolth Wygraant spoke.

"Well, I suppose I can do what I can... "

The fact that the Captain had eschewed the normal greeting and disapproving stares was not lost on him, but he chose to say nothing. There was an air of urgency about the Imperial that was practically visible.

"... within reason, of course."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"A member of my ship's crew has an urgent medical need. Their need is somewhat unique due to her particular species, which we are less than prepared to accommodate on a warship."

It was an admission of some small profundity, and the Commander likely understood it. The Empire had few if any species in its ranks beyond humans.

"We are soon to be recalled to an assignment in our territory, and we have few opportunities to accord her sufficient medical care. I was hoping she could be remanded into the custody of your medical staff until she recovers."

[Kes Akiena]

It was a request that for him, required little to no time to think on.

"Of course, Captain."

The nice thing about Jovan was the experience that each and every person aboard brought to the table, and the medical staff was certainly no different. And when that staff was headed by a Durwi...

Reaching over, he pulled a flimsi and a stylus close, using the datapad he currently held as a stabilizing back before looking back to Wygraant.

"The doctors here are capable enough, I give you my word. What's your girl's name?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

The Captain stiffened slightly, not used to speaking casually of his Knight, even when it was initiated by someone else.

"Her name is Matatek Sel Vissica."

He paused, taking a breath.

"Of Selonia."

[Kes Akiena]

He got the M written, but his stylus froze as Wygraant finished the name.

He blinked, a sudden scowl descending over his features as his eyes traveled back up to lock with the Imperial's own steely gaze.

"Knight Vissica."

He would never refuse to help, even if the request came from Captain Wygraant, but there was a bit of a quandary that now formed within this equation. Perhaps it was his close friendship with Lok that allowed him a certain amount of knowledge; it was absolutely no mystery about what had transpired on Manaan, at least. He was no fool.

His voice pitched lower, concern lacing each word spoken.

"I feel it necessary to inform you that a certain individual will be arriving for her regular restocks in a week's time, if you take my meaning."

[Rolth Wygraant]

He shouldn't have expected Akiena to approach this unawares. Wygraant nodded in confirmation the the use of Vissica's title.

"I've been so informed by the Consulate. The Knight is aware of her duties and responsibilities, if that is what you are implying."

[Kes Akiena]

"Call it concern," came the careful reply as he finished writing the name.

"I think that the both of us would prefer to avoid an incident on this station, for much the same reasons."

He let out a long breath, staring at the name he'd just written. There was no real need to voice the thoughts that both were no doubt having in the moment.

"My staff are professionals, Captain. We will make sure that the Knight is well cared for. Do you have a return scheduled? Or will she be returning to Imperial space by some other means?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

"When your doctor sees fit that she is stable, I will have a shuttle dispatched for her return," Wygraant inclined his head slightly, "Rest assured, I have no interest in upsetting our understanding here any more than is unavoidable."

[Kes Akiena]

The 'pad, flimsi, and stylus were gently dropped to his desk.

"Good to know, Captain."

His hands moved then, to clasp together.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

He inclinded his head more sharply.

"That should conclude our business."

Rising, he cinched the slack out of his gloves.

"Give my regards to Captain s'Ilancy when she arrives."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

* * *

One Week Later





It was still somewhat slow going, but for the most part her body had healed. She'd endured the concern of her first officer and the ship's small medical staff in stoic silence, though, and she had turned over a majority of her duties to Samus. He'd insisted, after all, and for once she did not argue. There was a fatigue that still lingered, and while physically she was recovered, the exhaustion from being subjected to the Force in the way that Knight Vissica had continued to push upon her was unceasing. She spent a large portion of her time in her bunk, sleeping fitfully. At the very least, there'd been no more intrusions from the Selonian.

Their arrival on Jovan was as it usually was, and Samus handled the docking procedures with ease. It was a ritual that he'd become familiar with; that they all had.

Except that this time, there was something different awaiting her. Something not exactly expected.

Kes had sent warning when they were still a day out, and there had been a small amount of time that the Lupine strongly considered skipping her normal resupply on Jovan. In the end however, her orders overrode her first instincts, and now Khera'Va'ss'io sat docked at Spire Four.



Slowly, with a pair of datapads tucked under one arm, she began the familiar trek through the umbilical. KHER kept pace a step behind and to the side, his waspish head staring straight ahead.

Are you sure this is wise?

"I'm told she is in the infirmary."

That is not an answer.

"It is answer enough."

I do not like this.

"Then that makes both of us, but we are here because it is where we're supposed to be right now, and I'll not disobey my orders."

The rest of their short journey onto the station proper was made in silence.

[Untaaura Verratoa]

As the lock opened on the spireward end of the umbilical, Major Verratoa and no fewer than a dozen Jaani'saar stood at parade rest by the ramp. The Major gave a single percussive foot stamp before displaying the Cizeri open palm salute. That too passed, as she smoothly ceased the salutation.

"Captajin ss'jIlancjy. Command hass jisssued jyou a guarrd ssquadrron forr jyourr durratjion aboarrd the sstatjion."

There was a slight skew in her ears, and she clarified.

"Sshould jyou rrequjirre jit, of courrsse."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The surprise was evident in her eye as she looked from the Major to the assembled Jaani'saar, then back to the Major.

Bringing in a deep breath, the Lupine let it out while sending a sideways look over her shoulder to KHER.

"Well then," she turned back to the Major. She'd never had a detail posted to her in such a fashion before, and there was a moment that passed in silence before she found her voice.

"I would greatly appreciate that, yes."

The diminutive Major was a familiar sight - insofar as one could be familiar with an individual through stories told. There was no mistaking the ear, or the scarring from everything Teagan had told her of the Cizerack woman who'd once been on Ossus.

"Thank you, Major Verratoa."

[Untaaura Verratoa]

Verratoa replied with a tidy, military nod.

"Wjill jyou be sseejing the," she paused to correct her word choice, "patjient? Doctorr Vek hass kept herr jin bacta sstassjiss. jI am told sshe can be rrevjived."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The was a bit of quiet as she thought on that notion, and s'Il gestured for the Major and her marines to join her. Once more in motion now, the Lupine maintained her slow pace. There was still the slightest of flutters in her chest that seemed to come from nowhere, but the distinct tightening that they brought with them made her sure to not move too quickly. It was a strange feeling, to be unable to move at the pace that she was normally comfortable with. She knew however, that the Force had been far less kind to Knight Vissica, and for a brief moment in time, despite the guard posted to her, and the extra steps taken to ensure her safety, there was relief that what she'd written in her letter to Captain Wygraant had not completely come to pass. Where the Selonian went from here was up to her, and s'Il deeply hoped that her endeavors to initiate contact through the Force had been sufficiently stopped.

Yet, the possibility remained that there would be no deterrent. Not even a brush with death. And indeed, from Vissica's own mouth she had professed as much. It was disheartening.

As the group passed through the normal customs area, s'Il finally ventured an answer.

"I think that I should."

Each word was slow in coming, but the weight each held was plainly understood.

"I wish to conclude my duties first though," she gave a look to the Major, who had taken up position at her side, kindly matching the slow pace set by the Lupine.

[Untaaura Verratoa]

There wasn't an immediate reply, save for the few and quick sidelong glances between a few marines. It betrayed how wound-tight in anticipation they were for something happening. The Major did no such thing. Her only tell was a momentary tightening of her jawline.

"Asss jyou wjissh, Captajin."

She pivoted back to her squadron.

"Haar'ai eirr'uho!"

The marines peeled off into columns of a half dozen men that stood at either flank of Captain s'Ilancy. The Major moved to stand at the Lupine's side, sharply pivoting a heel once she did so she faced forward and abreast.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her stride was not a fast one, and s'Il used the time during their short journey to the Command Hub to take stock of her protection. It wasn't anything that she had expected, and truth be told, she felt grateful for the gesture. The Marines of the Pride were no simple fighting force; she had learned that lesson painfully well during the Sieges.

"I have heard quite a bit about you," she started, voice low and level, eyes still trained ahead of her.

[Untaaura Verratoa]

There wasn't anyone else the words could have reasonably been directed toward, and Major Verratoa focused on keeping her stride cadence while hazarding a sidelong glance to her charge. Cizeri conversations rarely drifted too far above or below one's station. If Captain s'Ilancy had been Cizeri, this would have been a bit too familiar. Since she was not, it was merely awkward. And she'd developed a recent tolerance for awkward.

"jI have alsso hearrd about jyou, Rrou'a."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I feel I must thank you, for doing all that you did."

Down a corridor, around a turn, and onward toward a bank of lifts that sat waiting to whisk them up, deeper into the station.

"Not many on Ossus would, considering her... parentage."

[Untaaura Verratoa]

Yep, definitely awkward. The Major relented a half step to give the Captain enough tether to ensure she was covering her at all times. Though they were far from the infirmary, the Jaani'saarr officer wasn't going to let an incident happen on account of lack of readiness. That thought kept her from dawdling too far on the Captain's words, but even Untaaurra couldn't shrug them off completely.

"Whateverr the parrentss majy have done, the chjild jiss blamelesss, Rrou'a."

Her cadence faltered for a moment as Untaaura fixated eye contact.

"No one sshould everr have to be punjisshed forr bejing borrn who thejy arre."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"On that, we agree."

She stepped onto the lift, followed closely by KHER, thirteen marines, and room for one more. Still her datapads were nestled beneath one arm, and her free hand beckoned the Major in.

"For that, I thank you."

In this time and place, the Major's discomfort was evident for anyone whether they had the gift of the Force or not, and s'Il opted to observe decorum, instead. She would say nothing more on the matter here.

[Untaaura Verratoa]

"Rrou'a." The Major tidily nodded in return for the Captain's thanks. It wasn't safe to dwell on this topic of conversation, and Untaaura was in the sort of company that made this level of candid speech dangerous. Fortunately, the Captain either picked up an unspoken tell or decided to let the conversation fall into a lull when on the lift.

In a lift full of thirteen marines, the air closed up in a hurry. There were the usual smells of salvenol lubricant, sweat, and the trace of chew tabac. One of her marines was wearing perfume. She'd upbraid the offender for it on her own time. The Captain and her droid smelled clean, which was a relief. You never knew what alien oddity you might share a lift with on this station, and it sometimes required patience and fortitude to endure the noxious ones.

"The Sselonjian. What can jyou tell me of herr?"

It was useful talk. Anything Untauura might need to have a tactical advantage if she needed it - even against a creature in a jar.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Singularly driven, to the point of obsession."

The words left her mouth without thought, and a bit of a dark tone.

"She is strong in the Force, Major. Make no mistake. Even hobbled, she is dangerous."

Her nose picked up the barest scent of chewing tabac.

Such a terrible habit.

[Untaaura Verratoa]

In other words, not much beyond what she'd already been given. Verratoa checked down to the squad sergeant with a glance, and he nodded while muttering "Condjition Jaarryuh."

"We'll be warrjy," Untaaura reassured her charge, as the lift feathered its downward acceleration a moment before the heavy doors hissed open. The group moved as one again.

"The Marrjiness developed counterrmeassurress, afterr the Rrepubljic Warr. Ssmall unjit tactjicss dessjigned to engage and defeat Jedji jin combat. jIt'ss a parrt of ourr advanced tactjicss currrjiculum."

There was the part that wasn't being said, of course, and Untaaura's ears flicked.

"Of courrsse, we haven't had anjy prractjical experrjience deplojying thesse new tactjicss. Jedji have been harrd to come bjy jin mjy ljifetjime."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A rueful henh escaped her lips, and s'Il gave a half-nod in agreement. The Major was certainly not wrong.

"As much as I'm sure you may be curious to know how such tactics perform, I hope you won't think me too out of line when I say that you do not need to test them."




* * *



Her meeting with Commander Akiena and K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei had gone as they always had in the past; nothing so out of the ordinary as to keep her longer than normal. He had glossed over the matter of the Imperial Knight for the most part, choosing to - to her relief - not delve into specifics until the matter of their usual topics had been fully discussed, parlayed over, negotiated, and finally agreed upon. There were of course the requisite stocks that every ship required, but ever since she'd taken on an actual ship's cook in the form of the elderly Kaleesh refugee, Idiri Su'ul Ahan'war, her need for actual food had grown. It had made their stops at Jovan a bit more labor intensive, as Ahan'war always demanded meat and produce; which of course meant opening up her dealings a bit wider to include the Pride's merchant's guilds. Which made the K'ohta'rrou's presence necessary.

Kes had passed along Captain Wygraant's regards, and she'd accepted them with a thin-lipped grimace, accompanied by a nod of acknowledgment.

But now, once more in the lift with the Major and the rest of the Marines, s'Il found herself in a bout of silence, her thoughts turning inward as the group ehaded for the infirmary.

The Force did not care for those that abused it, and the Lupine had found herself dragged along into a venture that would tax anyone's inner strength. She had already defiled herself once. To tempt the wrath of the Living Force was to invite death.

[Vek Vek]

The collective nerves in the infirmary were drawn bowstring-tight. Conversation was kept to a minimum, with clipped and to-the-point directions passing between Doctor Vek and the skeleton crew of nurses and medical technicians on duty. The two rows of a half dozen beds lay empty of patients, and it was clear from the way the orderlies were packing equipment carts that the infirmary would soon be empty of almost all staff as well.

"Captain s'Ilancy. Presumed. Rank insignia prominent and noticeable."

The Durwi approached the tawny-haired woman at the head of a small phalanx of armed Cizerack. His posture stiffened as he sniffed, partially sheathing his bulbous eyes momentarily in nictating membranes before they retracted.

"I am Doctor Vek."

In lieu of an unsanitary handshake, the physician simply gave a curt inclination of his head.

"You are expected. Have made series of extreme and unprecedented precautions in advance and, ahem, under duress. Dislike interference in my domain. Nautical reference, I run a tight ship."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

They even talk alike. Hive brothers indeed.

Seeing Doctor Vek was like looking into the recent past, and she couldn't help the slow frown that began to turn down the corners of her mouth. And, so long as he did not lift a suckerpop into her field of vision, all would be well.

"Doctor."

Her voice was level and respectful.

"How much improvement has your patient made since being transferred to your care?"

[Vek Vek]

"Gradual."

Vek escorted his guests into the clinic, heading towards the back of the facility which served as an intensive care and surgical ward.

"Subject brought into care already in metabolic stasis. Imperial treatment prior to transfer more than competent. Bacta immersion encouraging myolar resheathing and subcellular genesis. Level of cardiac trauma observed - severe. If not for immediate treatment, would have expired."

The Durwi tapped a few buttons on a holo-bracelet cinched over the sleeve of his coat, which brought up a three dimensional scan of the Selonian's heart.

"No discernible pathogenic presence or genetic defect. Pressure stress and cardiomuscular connection and fascia indicate severe overperformance strain."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She stared at the holographic representation of Knight Vissica's heart finding herself unsurprised by the Doctor's assessment.

"Mm, yes."

The mumbled tone of her voice held a strange undercurrent of tightness, and the Lupine grimaced, lips thinning into lines as she took her eye away and down, to stare at the glossy tiles of the deck below their feet. Her hands shifted, a single datapad still tucked between her side and upper right arm.

"Can you wake her."

[Vek Vek]

There was a tightness in Vek's expression. The nictating membranes over his large eyes flicked closed and opened again.

"Yes. Anticipated you would ask. Will accept, conditionally."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The hands that had shifted moved carefully to grasp one another at the small of her back, careful to not dislodge her datapad. His cautionary behavior was not unexpected, and the Captain nodded graciously. She had learned well from the past that it was best to do as a Durwi physician wished.

"Your conditions?"

[Vek Vek]

"Your weapons."

Vek opened a palm.

"You may retrieve when concluded."

The Marines behind s'Ilancy shifted their feet, and the Doctor turned his head to regard the obvious officer.

"The rest must wait in the clinic proper."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She could hear the uncomfortable shift of feet, and half-turned to level a reassuring look to the Major and her marines before once more looking back to Doctor Vek.

"I carry none, Doctor."

For what she knew thus far of Major Verratoa, the other woman would be dissatisfied, but would comply regardless. She was a military woman, and her standards were no doubt unparalleled.

Again her eyes went to the razor-tipped spearhead of her escort.

"Major?"

[Untaaura Verratoa]

Reluctantly, Untaaura gave a single nod.

"jIf that'ss what jyou wjissh, rrou'a. We'll hold a perrjimeterr jin the cljinjic."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The hesitation was plain to see, but s'Il did her best to reassure with a steady look and a returned nod.

"Thank you, Major."

Her attentions back on the Durwi, she squared her shoulders.

"To your satisfaction?"

[Vek Vek]

The Doctor inclined his head.

"Acceptable."

With a last glance at the marines, he pivoted on a heel, heading into the surgical ward with a gesture for Captain s'Ilancy to follow. Inside, the surgical beds were white and silver structures illuminated in bright cool light. Past the beds and the diagnostic equipment, three columns of blue liquid could be seen. The middle column was occupied with a lifeform that barely fit within. A mask was fitted to the slumbering selonian's muzzle, and her chest and arms were pierced by numerous intravenous lines and monitors, hooked up to a separate diagnostic machine.

"When you are ready to begin, will administer graduating dose of surepenephrine to counteract sedative."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She stared at the unmoving form of Knight Vissica. It was a strange contrast, to see the Selonian in such repose. It was foreign and almost unsettling, even. The Lupine stared for a short while, silent as she let her mind drift to memories of Manaan, and to the unwelcomed episodes of intrusion that had led to this point in time. She frowned, then scowled, then let out a long breath as her body protested at having to continue standing.

The Captain turned away then, moving to the closest bed. Tucked smartly beneath it was a simple rolling stool which she pulled out. Slowly she sat, and the datapad she held was set atop the bed beside her. Was this the best course of action to take? Was this the right thing to do? The Force it seemed had no desire to advise her in this moment, and s'Il settled for merely hoping that she was doing what she was supposed to do.

Another deep breath, and she let it out with a sigh.

"I am ready."

[Vek Vek]

The Doctor nodded, and began administering stimulants from the terminal adjacent to the bacta banks. A soft series of hisses, clicks, and whirring sounds pulsed every three seconds, dispensing miniscule amounts of drugs through the lines. Vek monitored the Selonian's vitals, watching as the pulse slowly strengthened and quickened.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The stream of bubbles that purged from Vissica's respirator started to increase in frequency as she took larger breaths. Her languid limbs and tail began to twitch, then move in the slightest bit of deliberate control. The Selonian's eyes slowly cracked open, sheathed by nictating membranes that allowed her to see clearly in the bacta and beyond.

THUMP

A splayed, webbed hand pressed suddenly against the glass as her eyes fixated exclusively on one person only. The stream of bubbles from her respirator rushed upward in a cloud.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Sitting still, s'Il met those eyes unflinchingly.

She showed no irritation, no frustration, nor even any anger. Instead was a calm, serene posture that was at the same time exhausted. One elbow moved then, to prop up on the bed she sat beside, so that she could lean her weight upon it.

The dagger of intent coming from the bacta tube was unmistakable, and the Lupine let her mind empty of everything except the intent of calm. Her thoughts went outward; not to overwhelm, but to settle. To smooth over the potential of a rising tide. It was nothing so specific as direct communication, but rather a feeling. Of warmth, of comfort, of an intent to assuage the emotions that had brought the Selonian to where she was now. She would only make her situation worse if she continued, and indeed she would destroy herself, and s'Il was determined to keep that from happening.

Like a gentle blanket of calm, the Lupine let her awareness drift over Knight Vissica in the hopes that she would stay herself.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica's fingers began to curl inward so that her claw tips could try for purchase against the glass of the bacta tank. When none could be found, and she determined that she couldn't penetrate the barrier, the Selonian relented, returning her fingertips to rest against the glass. She reluctantly turned her attention from Captain s'Ilancy to the other figure in the room - an alien she did not recognize. The room she was in looked like any Imperial infirmary, but her senses discerned little resembling a familiar feeling of place or recognition. She again settled on s'Ilancy. Here her feelings met an unanticipated feeling of calm. It was a strange sensation from their previous encounters. More frustrating was that she could feel that her own state of being was weakened. Had she been injured? No. Her other hand raised up, splaying against her chest as she recollected her last memory. Pain, cold, and separation.

"Am I in a dream?"

The vocabulator in Vissica's rebreather produced a reproduction of her voice that sounded tinny and confined, clicking between the soft hiss of air being pushed into her lines and the burble of bubbles beyond.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"No dream."

Her voice, unlike Vissica's, was pure and unfiltered.

"You are on Jovan Station, Knight Vissica."

Fingers tapped on her leg in a steady rhythm, and she continued on.

"You have been placed in the care of Doctor Vek," her head angled in a respectful nod to the Durwi, "... who has been kind enough to make sure that you are safe in your recovery."

She wanted to stand, to move closer to the bacta tank, but for now she knew that it would be best to stay sitting.

"What was the last thing that you remember?"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica closed her eyes, the hiss of her respirator drawing more air on a deeper breath that slowly exhaled.

"Our last contact ended abruptly. Before I could reflect on what was said, I..."

The Knight's eyes opened again.

"I don't know. Pain. Cold. Voices. I cannot remember what they said."

There was a long period of silence. More breaths.

"Why am I here?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

So her memory was a miasma of disoriented sensory inputs; not shocking. The Force had placed a harsh punishment upon the both of them, though the Selonian had earned the most ire. She seemed almost lost, trying to fit together pieces of a puzzle that was still half-thoughts and half-images. For her part, s'Il simply answered the questions asked, while keeping mindful to pose her own, simple as they may be.

"The Decimator does not have the equipment to sustain you, and for your sake, Captain Wygraant made the decision to have you transferred here. This station is more than capable of keeping you alive despite your best efforts to end yourself, Knight Vissica."

Her tapping fingers grew still, as her gaze remained on the Selonian.

"The Force exacts a terrible price on those who use it in the manner that you have, and even I was not spared."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"Wygraant delivered me here?"

That was a surprise to the Selonian, and she wasn't certain what it meant. She doubted that it ended as tidily as s'Ilancy said.

"The Empire has advanced medical facilities. Why would he trust the Alliance? Why here?"

She focused her attention on s'Ilancy again.

"Your ship, the Khera'va'ssio, it is ported from this station, is it not?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I would suspect that you are here because it was the closest port that had the capabilities to deal with the severity of your... affliction. He made the right choice, girl."

The question of her ship was one that she found peculiar, and ever so slowly the Lupine pushed herself upwards to her feet. She let out a thin, almost reedy groan as her body protested, and bending over slightly, wheeled her stool closer until it very nearly bumped into the edge of the transparisteel plating of the bacta tube. When she resumed her seat, she did so with a rather ponderous, tired air.

"My ship docks here regularly enough, but that is all."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she craned her neck upward so that she could stare up at the Selonian.

A minute of silence hung between the two as she thought on her next words. When she spoke, her voice was soft.

"Would you like me to tell you exactly why you are where you are, and not out here?"

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Wygraant and his motivations would be a topic to deal with later. There were more important matters.

"It appears that the Citadel archives on certain Jedi techniques are incomplete. The consequences, as you say, were not mentioned."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Sometimes such things shouldn't have to be," came the swiftly snapped response, like a teacher correcting a student.

"You tapped into an aspect of the Living Force that is deep, primal, personal, and very very powerful. It is folly to expect that such an action would have consequences any less than a possible death."

Her features had become a stern mask, and she barely kept herself from lifting a single finger in some show of illustration.

"Neither of us was spared the repercussions of what you did, though the graces above allowed me a lesser portion of what you have done to yourself. The energy and soul which a being uses when attempting such contact is considerable, whether you realize it or not. I would hope that now, in that bacta tank, you might have some inkling of the severity with which I speak."

She pursed her lips then, broken gaze not leaving Vissica as she pivoted the subject a small bit.

"How many years have you been in this galaxy."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

There was no sufficient rebuttal to s'Ilancy's scolding, so Vissica did not provide one. When the admonishing turned to a question, she answered it.

"I am twenty two cycles."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Twenty-two. Still so young. It was a shame, to see such a being sent down upon a path diverged from that of her own; or was it? Really? Her own life thus far had been largely spent shackled to a lie, and even when she had discovered the deception she had stayed the bent and twisted way. While she had eventually been pulled back to the straight and true, the fact remained that she had not turned away her tormentor when his mask had fallen. Instead, she had begged for more... begged for love from a man that had no capacity to give such a thing.

"Arguably not long, then."

It was the only response that she felt suitable in the immediate aftermath of the Selonian's answer.

"How many of what's left of the old texts within your Citadel have you studied."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"I do not know the exact number," she confessed, "but I have read what I could over the past year and a half in the Empire's service. Unfortunately the archives are incomplete, as you know already. Many of the writings and holocrons were spirited away by Jocasta Nu and those like her. Darth Vader may have hunted her down, but the lost works were not recovered."