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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."