You're a Criminal as Long as You're Mine

[Baska Tankreyd]

As they headed to their quarters, Baska considered the Admiral's suggestion. Exploring the area might be good and was something she would have done when younger and not as proficient as she now was with the Force. In the end, she considered that staying by Bismarck's side was the most prudent course of action. She would get the opportunity to get a solid lay of the land as they traveled across the various locations of the festivities and she would also use down time to do more research on the estate as well.

"Given the situation, I will stay with you, Admiral. As you mentioned, retrieving my own belongings will take only a short time, so it will not put any wrench in your schedule."

***

Present time, aboard the Ruby Wolf.

They had departed over a day ago from the Scythe, wasting no time once the Admiral had gathered the few things he needed for their trip to Granta VII. They had spent several hours going over their plan after entering hyperspace. They weren't exactly sure how both their missions were connected but they certainly were, which made sense for them to investigate together, and given her extensive experience with the underworld, it was a safer option.

The Cult of Miranda had been a local religious movement on the planet for several years. The population had seen benefits from being in the far reaches of the Empire, and what had started as a fraction of farmers idolizing the Empress had turned into a loose but larger spirituality. The Empire had let it be for it fostered reverence and had generally kept the peace. Things had recently changed as whispers of unrest had reached Imperial Intelligence, following disruption of trade in the system, which often stopped by Granta VII due to mining resources making it a solid refueling station, besides its practical location for the distance sector.

It had seemed odd at first, even for imperial orderliness; but when a second and eventually a third shipment had got disrupted on their way to Sillesk, and nowhere else, something was definitely amiss and targeting the Admiral's territory. The scouting mission had talked of general unrest with an increase in visiting smugglers and mercenaries, as well as a change in the Cult of Miranda's fiercest supporters, threatening a schism among the worship, which was why Baska had been assigned for if such a thing started, it could cause trouble for the Empire, and a previous cult devoted to the Empress rebelling was unacceptable.

As much as Baska had never thought she would be entering the Empress's service, or even profess allegiance to any faction, becoming Miranda Tarkin's Hand had given her direction and the work was always challenging her in new ways, including helping mentor her in the ways of the Force, something she had barely ever done with anyone before, too demanding and a loner to even consider taking on an apprentice. The Empress was a brilliant woman and Baska had come to understand what her people saw in her; but she also felt protective of the ruler.

Her ship had enough space to accommodate two people aboard, and they had mostly crossed paths in the galley and the hallways since then. She had spent most of her time between her quarters, on the opposite side of where the two spare ones, one allocated to the Admiral, was, and the cockpit. But as they still had a few more hours left before reaching their destination, she had decided to go through some of her daily training. The reason there were only two spare quarters was that years ago she had turned the other two into a large room that served as extra storage for specific things and training space, instead of just doing that in the cargo bay.

She had probably kept busy for at least two hours nonstop, practicing her telekinetic skills - which never were as good as she wanted them to be - and then had spent time with her blades, always making sure that she was as proficient with both hands, something she had worked on since her early days in the underworld and that had become all the more important when her late master had broken her main hand on several occasions early on in her training to force her to get stronger.

Moving onto her lighsaber practice, she let the crimson blade come to life. She sometimes wished she got to use the weapon she had created on her own more often; but she knew that it was always a calculated decision given how her kind were considered in the galaxy. But their upcoming mission meant she would have it on her person. Completing a round, she looked up and caught the Admiral standing in the door frame. She didn't know how long he had been there. Switching the lightsaber off, she clipped the hilt back at her belt.

"Anything I can do for you, Admiral? Did you want to have a look at more weapon options?"