Empress Teta, Empress Teta System


    Koros Sector


    If there was anything to expect from an essentially blind jump into the Galactic Interior, it was definitely not an affluent Separatist-aligned superpower in the Deep Core. But the Empress Teta Star System was exactly that; seven inhabited planets ruled by the city-world of Empress Teta–named after the eponymous monarch who united the star system five millennia ago–which I daresay rivalled Coruscant itself in culture and might.


    In fairness, when our young Givin astrogator plotted the hyperspace translation, he did specify the system would act as a safe harbour, but few in the 28th Mobile Fleet could have expected the grandeur of Empress Teta. Many of us had hardly even heard of Empress Teta before–myself included–nor did we ever expect Operation Starlance to even touch the Deep Core. How could we? We were Outer Rimmers, and the Galactic Core was as foreign to us as the stars to a fish.


    And did I forget to mention the star system was Separatist? The seven words of Empress Teta were still ruled by the Tetan Monarchy, but a lot can change over five-thousand years, and the current Emperor Alor Keto was no more than a puppet of the Galactic Mining Guild. A more or less powerless figurehead beholden to one of the oldest, largest megacorporations in the galaxy. And while Empress Teta was a name I’ve never heard before, by contrast I was very familiar with the Mining Guild. The Guild, after all, dominated billions of resource-rich Outer Rim worlds; it simply never really occurred to me that not even the Core could escape the pervasive grasp of corporate greed. Not to this extent.


    Which was why when we arrived in a super-system expecting a fight and preparing to lynch our Givin astrogator, we were pleasantly surprised to find friendly faces and open arms. Well, friendly as the Mining Guild gets. See, the Mining Guild was a subsidiary of the Commerce Guild, which had squarely aligned itself with the Serenno Government in order to oppose their main business rivals, the Corporate Alliance. Silver lining was that this specific branch of the Mining Guild had no idea about the conflict brewing in the Rim, having been isolated in the Deep Core for so long.


    Or rather, they had no idea how the war was going on at all. They only knew there was a war because Empress Teta had been occupied by a GAR Sector Army.


    I glanced out the porthole of my small stateroom aboard the Chimeratica, a steaming cup of tea–one of the few delicacies the droids aboard this ship had mastered the creation of–cradled between my hands. Empress Teta spun lazily, the shining golden lines of the capital city Cinnagar cutting concentric circles through her hazy purple atmosphere. Cinnagar was the largest of Empress Teta’s cities, spanning half the globe. From afar, the entire planet seemed like a massive eyeball staring out towards the stars.


    It was a lethargic feeling, I had to admit. We had been informed the vast majority of GAR presence in the star system had been redeployed elsewhere, and due to the apparent impenetrability of the Deep Core, left only a token force behind; one which was quickly getting overwhelmed by our fleets and droid armies. Without any major threats nearby, this was the first time in a long while the 28th Mobile Fleet could catch its breath. We were making the most of it.


    “Master,” Hare made her presence known, lifting up a datapad, “The newest reports have come in.”


    “Thank you,” I received it distantly, setting down my cup on the desk. “How long do you think we have before the Republic responds?”


    “Should I call the tactical droid?”


    “I’m asking you.”


    “...Not as long as we keep our presence secret.”


    I smiled, syncing the datapad to the stateroom’s holoprojector, “Call the tactical droid.”


    “And food?”


    “And food.”


    Hare bobbed her head, servos whirring as she spun around and hopped away, no doubt on her way to the galley to hammer more culinary knowhow into the droids stationed there. Tea was one thing, dinner was another.


    Returning my attention to the datapad, I selected the first report, and leaned back.


    “Chimeratica, Kronprinz,” Diedrich Greyshade’s recorded voice started, tinged with a note of pride, “The Third Battle Division had pushed all remaining Loyalist elements in-system to the outer planets, particularly around Ronika and Phoros. We believe they are attempting to maintain a foothold in order to facilitate a larger counterattack on reinforcements from Coruscant arrive…”


    Letting the oral report continue on, I casted my attention towards what was written on the datapad.


    [0611 hours] Initial engagement made with hostile reconnaissance ships near Phiris. Four enemy scoutships destroyed, two escaped. No damage taken. Phirisian local government renews oaths of loyalty to Tetan Monarchy.


    [1146 hours] Pursued enemy force to Ronika. Encountered heavy resistance. Weisser Sand and Andraste sustained moderate damage but remain operational. Planetary installations captured.


    [1855 hours] Engaged the main enemy fleet over Phoros. Heavy planetary resistance encountered, including surface-to-orbit artillery. Significant battle ensued, resulting in the destruction of three enemy heavy cruisers and four destroyers. Our fleet sustained light to moderate damage. One casualty; light cruiser Gollerus destroyed by surface-to-orbit artillery.


    [2009 hours] Search and rescue of friendly survivors successful. Requesting a single auxiliary redeployed to Phoros. Continued resistance from Phoros confirms Loyalist local government. Requesting Tetan reinforcements, preferably with royal mandate from His Majesty Alor Keto.


    [2200 hours] Intercepted enemy communications indicating regrouping effort near planetoid Keres II. Please advise.


    I closed my eyes, letting the ambient hum of Chimeratica’s reactor envelop me. That relative peace continued until the stateroom’s door was launched open and two heavy metallic footfalls alerted me to Tuff’s presence.


    “Do you recommend any captains with potential?” I asked without turning around.


    Tuff didn’t respond immediately, his harsh photoreceptors digging into the back of my skull, “Captain of Habatok-Two. Rame Cartroll.”


    I frowned, recalling the vessel in question, “That’s a light corvette, is it not?”


    “You requested potential,” the tactical droid replied, “Captain Cartroll participated in the Battle of Atraken and Battle of Quell with distinction.”


    “If you say so,” I didn’t think too hard about it, “Give him Unicorn, Centaur, Shadow Price, and Anemone. Request the Tetan Guard for ten of their Supremacy-class cruisers and a royal mandate from Emperor Alor Keto demanding Phoros’ unconditional surrender. If they decline, request again but through the Mining Guild. Is there an auxiliary stationed on the way to Phoros?”


    “Rimma Express is currently resupplying over Tryast.”


    “Captain Cartroll will rendezvous with the Express at Tryast before reinforcing the Third Division. Notify Kronprinz and inform her that she’s allowed to respond to the field at her own discretion.”


    “As you command. Is that all?”


    I paused, “...“How long do you think we have before the Republic responds?”


    Tuff’s photoreceptors darkened, “The Second Strike Division is already raiding the Agricultural Circuit south of Coruscant. There is no cause for concern; Commander Shive is extremely capable. If Coruscant does not respond soon, the Core Worlds will starve within the month.”


    With the war shutting down many of the major hyperlanes from the agri-worlds in the Outer Rim, the Agricultural Circuit now supplies upwards of 80% of the Core Worlds’ imported meat and produce. Just south of Coruscant, the ‘Ag Circuit’ was a crescent-shaped region bordering the northern demarcation of the Deep Core, over a hundred agri-worlds starting from Cal-Seti in the west and Xorth in the east. If we wanted the GAR to notice us, strangling their food supplies would do more than any anaemic raid on Coruscant would. After all, Dua Ningo had already raided Coruscant, and I wasn''t a copycat. Not to mention that sort of trick only works once.


    All we had to do was sit tight, let fleeing Loyalists notify the wider galaxy of Empress Teta’s secession, raid the agricultural spacelanes, and wait for the GAR to react. Meanwhile, we’ll fortify Empress Teta to the teeth. It was efficient, and it was effective.


    “Good,” I nodded firmly, “Thank you. Dismissed.”


    Calli Trilm was raiding the Arrowhead, that I was sure of. It was an eight day hyperspace transit to Empress Teta, and that meant the 28th Mobile Fleet had been off the grid for a good week while the 19th Mobile Fleet was operating in the Galactic Interior. Since the local GAR Sector Fleet had recently departed Empress Teta, it could be surmised the 19th Mobile was the cause behind the act. Our job was now to draw the Sector Fleet back, in order to split some of the pressure.


    Because unlike our comrades, we had a way out if things went awry. Right at this moment, the ‘4th Battle Division under Vinoc was retracing the hyperlane that took us here, capturing any obscure Republic worlds that laid on it. In fact, according to his report… his fleet had just discovered a world called Prakith.


    [0530 hours] Discovered mass shadow on Nexus Route, preliminary scans indicate industrialised system at galactic coordinates -44.579, -88.820, -7.393 in grid square K-10. Will extract to investigate.


    [0900 hours] Confirmed hostile star system. Data raid indicates GAR designation ‘Prakith System’.


    [1402 hours] Launched coordinated attack on outer system installations. Enemy fleet presence confirmed near the third orbital body, designated ‘Prakith’.


    [1846 hours] Ambushed main enemy fleet. Successfully neutralised two enemy battlecruisers and four heavy cruisers. Superficial damage taken. Pursuit ongoing.


    [0230 hours] Enemy fleet jumped further south. We have declined to pursue further. Ground forces have been deployed to secure key enemy installations on ‘Prakith’. Moderate resistance; discovered incomplete fortifications and graving docks. Possibly interrupted an ongoing fortress world construction.


    [1200 hours] Star system secured. Conducting mopping-up operations to identify and secure any remaining enemy assets and intelligence in-system. Data raid indicates location of ‘5th Deep Core Armada’ fleet headquarters in Odik System further south. Requesting additional support and reinforcements for assault.”


    “What the…” I mumbled beneath my breath.


    Vinoc conquered a budding fortress world with only fifty-one warships? But this was concerning indeed, because it confirmed further GAR presence deeper in the Core, and considering this mysterious ‘Odik System’ was to be found even further south, there was a high likelihood the GAR already charted the Nexus Route, if not entirely in its entirety. Still, it was an issue, because right now the Nexus Route was our only way out of here, and unless we secure all of it, the 5th Deep Core Armada could raise an interdiction net south of us and shut the door.


    However, the Mining Guild also told us the vast majority of the 5th Armada went north, to fill the vacuum left by the Core Reserve Armadas. Considering how easily Diedrich and Vinoc were able to beat back the garrisons in the Deep Core, I was inclined to believe that. However, it only took a single interdiction mine to screw us all over. I pondered the feasibility of sending Vinoc what’s left of our limited resources to sustain his campaign for a long while, before finally deciding otherwise.


    We only had just about two-hundred ships, though more were being folded into our ranks by the day, courtesy of the Tetan shipyards–the Koros Spaceworks–and volunteer vessels from the Tetan Guard and Mining Guild. Their loyalty was questionable, however, and I wasn’t inclined to dispatch them too far from Empress Teta. With a good fraction of our warships away raiding the Ag Circuit, I didn’t feel confident enough to overstretch our meagre forces chasing rumours in the Deep Core, and especially not with an impending Republic counterattack on the horizon.


    I toggled the holoprojector to record my voice, “...Crying Sun, Chimeratica. Your orders are to hold position and complete the fortifications in the Prakith System. Erect an interdiction field and intercept any enemy forces attempting to travel back up the Nexus Route. Over.”


    Opening Krett’s report next; it was a brief thing detailing his successes in the neighbouring star systems of the Koros Sector. Just as preying on economic trade routes was the sort of thing Horgo Shive seemed to excel at, it appeared diplomacy and negotiation was as much the Neimodian’s forte. With our ships stretched thin, he only had ten ships in his small squadron. But that was enough for him.


    The worlds of Keeara Major, Symbia, and Kuar had all renewed their pledges of loyalty to the Tetan Monarchy under Krett’s pressure, confirming their status under Empress Teta’s sphere of influence and thus the Separatist Alliance. Five major systems and eleven worlds now flew the flag of the Confederate Hex in the Deep Core, the heart of Republic territory. A veritable hermit state in the most treacherous reaches of the known galaxy, right under the shadow of the supermassive black hole of the Galactic Center.


    And most importantly, it was a hermit state that, technically, wasn’t separated from the rest of Confederacy at all. So long as the other end of the Nexus Route–Yag’Dhul–wasn’t compromised, trade and supplies could technically continue flowing into this new Separatist star sector. You know, coming into this whole Operation Starlance, if there was one thing I wasn’t expecting to do, it was nation-building in the Republic’s backyard.


    Talk about making the most of a terrible situation.


    I dispatched the last of my orders, and prepared to seek an audience with Emperor Alor Keto and his Mining Guild masters to secure further commitments. I had flirted with the idea of driving a wedge between the Tetan Monarchy and the Mining Guild, as the Mining Guild was affiliated with the wrong side of a growing Separatist schism. The Tetan Monarchy might be grateful for the help with dislodging the overwhelming corporate presence in their bountiful star system, and end up supporting the Raxus Government with its riches and influence.


    On the other hand… I was a fleet commander and not a politician or court noble… cough.


    In any case, I already had my hands full trying to build up our defences before the Republic came knocking in force. I’d rather not meddle with courtly politics and involve myself in a power struggle between a venerable monarchy and a galactic megacorporation. Besides, this branch of the Mining Guild was already as isolated from the rest of the Commerce Guild as they could be. The only news of the outside world they get is from the person who controls the only way out–which happens to be me.


    The holoprojector blinked, chiming to alert me to an incoming communication. Curious, I accepted the transmission, and the stark figure of a Givin Dodecian appeared on my desk.


    “Dodecian Illiet,” I greeted our chief astrogator, “News from the front?”


    Dodecian Illiet was the commander of the forces who aided us in the final stages of the Battle of Yag’Dhul, and the commander of the seventy Wavecrest-class frigates the Body Calculus deigned to loan us. Since his frigates were most useful as scoutships, as soon as we made ourselves comfortable at Empress Teta, Illiet had taken his division–along with most of our intelligence frigates–to trailblaze alternative spacelanes out of the Deep Core, which would prove useful in the case that the Nexus Route ever gets compromised to say the least.


    “We have discovered a possible alternative to the Nexus Route,” Illiet said immediately, forgoing the usual ‘greeting maths’, “It follows an old, collapsed hyperlane known as the Daragon Trail to Vulpter, from which we could jump to Xorth.”


    “That would… put us out of the frying pan and into the fire,” I said, “Is there any other way?”


    Dodecian Illiet could only give me a look of what I assumed was annoyance, “We were also investigating an interdiction checkpoint maintained south of Empress Teta, leading even deeper into the Core–”


    Illiet’s hologram glitched, blinking in and out existence for a few seconds, indicating the poor connection. Illiet had taken our intel frigates and dropped them around the Deep Core in order to use as hypercommunication relays, as there would be no other way to communicate. In fact, I couldn’t contact Illiet at all, since his fleet was nowhere near any known relay and constantly on the move, not to mention the sheer astrogational chaos of being only 1500 parsecs away from a supermassive black hole.


    As such, it was a one-way connection, with Illiet dropping behind frigates like breadcrumbs in a forest. And if anything happened to the Givin fleet, such as ramming straight into a freak mass shadow, there would be no way for us to know what happened. But the Givin were confident enough, and I saw no reason to protest. They were in their element, after all.


    There was also a second reason for dropping around intel frigates, and that was to create what was essentially an early warning system around Empress Teta; a metaphysical bubble that would alert us of any fleet approaching Empress Teta from any direction. Even more so as these frigates were concentrated around potential spacelanes.


    In its current iteration, PRIESTESS was only able to inform us of any incoming and outgoing communique from Coruscant–useful for gauging the macro-level situation in the Republic capital world, but not so much for reliable military reconnaissance. Doubly so with the delay–factoring the receival, filtering, and decryption of transmissions, of which the vast majority still end up mundane and useless. Vinoc’s mystery fleets at Odik remain at large, and playing in the GAR’s backyard meant contending with possibly dozens of minor spacelanes at their disposal but not ours.


    “–Leading to a world that only exists in our databanks as ‘Tython’,” Illiet continued once the connection was restored, “We advise towing a new hyperspace and hypercommunications relay to this star system.”


    “Is ‘Tython’ valuable in any way?” I questioned, “It must be, right? Considering the Republic maintained an interdiction checkpoint leading to it…”


    Hold on. An interdiction checkpoint? On this side of the spacelane?


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    …Nah. I’ve been watching too many holodramas–I watched none in the past two years–there was no way this ‘Tython’ was home to some flesh-eating virus or marauding alien species, right?


    “Our scanners indicate the world is a rich paradise world,” Illiet said, “With some signs of civilization, albeit abandoned. But we have no intention of making landfall. We require this star system as a forward base to continue trailblazing potential spacelanes.”


    A paradise world with signs of an ancient, abandoned civilisation? Oh boy, talk about a Pandora’s Box. Fortunately, Illiet had enough savviness to see the demerits of making landfall and catching some sort of flesh-eating–or rather bone-eating–disease. Or maybe he just didn’t give a shit. He must’ve seen hundreds of paradise worlds in his lifetime.


    “I’ll bring it up with the Koros Spaceworks,” I promised, “You’ll have your relays.”


    “You are wiser than most of your kind,” Dodecian Illiet nodded stiffly, but approvingly.


    Before he cut the connection, I hastily raised my voice; “One more thing. With what we know from PRIESTESS, how long do you think it will be before we see the Republic at our doors?”


    Dodecian Illiet paused, his brief period of thought comparable to a supercomputer running at full tilt from my perspective, before saying; “How goes Commander Krett’s progress?”


    “All the neighbouring star systems have already submitted,” I answered readily, “The Deep Core sectors are falling into our lap without a fight.”


    The Dodecian nodded steadily, as if he had expected such a remark, “Then you can expect a Republic fleet within the week.”


    My lips thinned imperceptibly, “Is that not too soon? My tactical droid inserts that it will be a month before the Republic begins rationing. The GAR will use as much time as they have to muster a new fleet; surely a month is not an unreasonable time frame?”


    “Your droid is erroneous. It fails to account for the political factor. The GAR does not have that much time,” Illiet explained, with more than a little haughtiness, but moved on the elaborate nevertheless, “Coruscant is weak, and its authority ailing. Not only had Eriadu been scorched, but there are now three Separatist fleets in the Core, and basic subsistence will be a luxury within a standard month. The vast majority of Republic systems remain with the Republic not out of Loyalism, but out of indifference. The Republic is the default option, and systems without a reason to secede will remain with the Republic. That has changed, and joining Separatist Alliance emerges as a potential alternative, whether borne of fear or rationalism. The news of Empress Teta’s secession could be censored by Loyalist media, but not the entire Koros Sector.”


    “The Republic fears other systems may follow in Empress Teta’s footsteps,” I summarised, internally wondering if this was a great boon or bane, “And the GAR must act swiftly to dole punishment, lest the wound cut by the Tetan Secession festers even further.”


    “Correct,” Illiet approved, “The necessity will only compound as the Deep Core is brought back into the Tetan sphere of influence, courtesy of Commander Krett.”


    Not to mention the sheer loss of face caused by a world as influential and venerable as Empress Teta seceding. But that was obvious enough, and left unsaid between us. With a brisk nod of gratitude, I bid farewell to Dodecian Illiet–whose mission to secure us a way out was even more critical than ever–and cut the connection.


    “...” I fished out my comlink, “Hare. Please get me a line to Commodore Horgo Shive.”


    ?


    Coruscant, Coruscant System


    Corusca Sector


    “I want you to meet someone.”


    That was what Iskat Akaris had told Barriss, and she considered it proof of her efforts to befriend the outwardly aloof girl. Outwardly. Because Barriss knew better. The red-skinned alien may seem thorny from afar, but in reality Iskat was just… lonely. Closed. Who wouldn’t be? Being the only one of her kind in a Jedi Temple that regularly paraded panoplies of species and races from distant worlds. After unintentionally grievously injuring and driving a fellow initiate out of the Jedi Order. After witnessing the slaughter that was Geonosis, watching the light in her friends’ eyes fade away in her hands. Who wouldn’t be indeed, wearing a cloak still stained with their Master’s blood?


    A Jedi Temple’s Room of a Thousand Fountains was probably Coruscant’s greenhouse,, harbouring exotic fauna and flora from over a thousand worlds across the galaxy. Standing in the middle, it was impossible to believe you were in a room at all, or even on Coruscant. Seven stories tall, capped with a domes holoprojection ceiling mimicking day and night, and filled to the brim with flowers of every conceivable shape and colour. One could get lost in the Room of a Thousand Fountain for days, meditating in its dense copses of green and gold-leaved trees, completely ignorant of the lightsaber duel raging on the other side of the space.


    Iskat guided her through the walking paths, ephemerally changing from dirt to crushed gravel to ornately carved stone, through lush green shrubs and grasses, towering bromeliads, and even over little bridges across gurgling streams that flowed from unseen places. They weren’t alone. The Room of a Thousand Fountains was a place for all, and despite the recent emptiness of the Temple, the Room still saw use for everything from lightsaber practice to meditation to small council meetings. Jedi napped on the many stone and wooden benches, caught up with friends in small gazebos and clearings, and enjoyed the ambience in their own secret groves.


    Countless birds, butterflies, and insects flitted about, while the ambient bubbling of brooks, chatter of fountains, and rush of shallow waterfalls filled all who stepped here with a heart-filling presence. There was a pleasant, forgotten, overgrown energy here. Barriss felt immersed in the Force simply by existing.


    Above them, dozens of catwalks and bridges and mezzanines and galleries criss-crossed the open space above the dense canopy, leading to and fro elevated viewing and terraces where Knights and Masters alike enjoyed a fleeting peace unavailable from the war, content with watching the birds fly.


    Everyone had their own space here. Everyone had their own peace here. Barriss could see why Iskat led her here.


    The tall Jedi Knight pulled her through a small gap between a grove of bhansgrek bush, one that she would never have noticed on her lonesome, leading into a quaint, walled garden. Vines looped through the fences, dripping with bright purple berries and balooma blooms. Stone benches invitingly lined under the shade of assari and willowing ch’hala trees, a nearby fountain spraying a cool and pleasant mist into the air.


    “Many of these plants and trees were gifted, you know?” a husky voice caught her marvelling the garden in amazement, “Planets like to gift the Temple their local flora and fauna as tokens of appreciation for the good the Jedi do… or simply to curry favour. They’re put here. See those trees? The Chancellor gifted a whole grove of them to Master Shaak Ti, who then planted them throughout the Jedi Temple. This is one of those spots.”


    Barriss flicked her gaze to the individual; a towering Selonian two-metres tall, wearing the grey uniform of a Temple staff technician. The feline was long and languid, with pale brown fur and soft beige stripes over his hide, a sleek tail gently brushing the stone-cut floor. She couldn’t tell if the Selonian was pointing to the assari or ch’hala trees. Both were equally ostentatious and beautiful and exotic.


    “I didn’t know staff were allowed in here,” Barriss admitted.


    If the comment bothered the techie, he didn’t show it, “Someone’s gotta take care of the ecosystem in here. You think the Force maintains these plants?”


    Yes. Barriss thought internally.


    He laughed, as if having read her mind.


    “The waterfalls and fountains’ gotta keep flowing. The sky’s gotta keep revolving. These plants gotta keep growing, and let me tell you, I don’t know which genius it was to put hostile flora from ten-thousand worlds all in one room…” the Selonian trailed off, as if just noticing she was a Jedi, adopting an apologetic grin, “Sorry.”


    “I don’t mind,” Barriss bowed lightly, “I can imagine the frustration.”


    “Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “Someone’s gotta keep these plants from eating each other. And thankfully it ain’t me. I’m just here to check up on the environmental system. Don’t want to find out what happens when Master Windu walks in here to find half the room’s dead, right?”


    The technician bounded to a nearby wall, peeling open a disguised panel to reveal a switchboard of some sort. Barriss didn’t know. She wasn’t a technician. But, she supposed, there must be thousands of these disguised panels scattered across the Temple, and thousands of accompanying techies. There had always been Temple staff around, but it was often as if they were invisible to the Jedi and the Jedi were invisible to them, as if they led parallel lives in the same space. Temple staff had their own hallways, their own doors, their own little world.


    Letting the Selonian do his own thing, Barriss swivelled around to find the person who led her here in the first place–only to find Iskat laying down on one of the benches, eyes unfocused as she stared past the dappled leaves towards the artificial skyline. Barriss had never seen the Jedi Knight more at peace than then and there, and decided not to ruin the peace.


    Sitting down beside Iskat, she leaned back against the backrest and exhaled. All her worries and anxieties seemed to leave with her breath, replaced by a supreme sense of tranquillity, as if she had gone to sleep for days and finally found true rest.


    “I assume you know Iskat?” Barriss asked softly, unconsciously stroking Iskat’s hair and feeling her chest rise and fall.


    “We’re friends,” the Selonian answered, “We met… hm, a day before she was Knighted. Name’s Heezo.”


    “Barriss.”


    “I know. She likes to talk to me.”


    Barriss’ soft smile nearly died, but she maintained it admirably. A Jedi Knight, talking to a technician… regularly? It seemed too much of a coincidence for Heezo to be here right as they arrived? Had they predetermined locations and times to meet? That was one way to circumnavigate the separation between Jedi and staff.


    “And you don’t talk to her?” Barriss asked innocently.


    Heezo glanced over his shoulder, tapping one of his grey-tipped ears with a wire stripper, “I’m not as young as I look. Not sure if I’m the one to tell you this, Barriss, but I’m also too old to care much; she’s a troubled one.”


    Barriss recalled that bloody scene aboard the military satellite, and whispered, “I know.”


    “I’m not even that good at listening,” Heezo chuckled throatily, “I can’t remember half the things I once did anymore. But if a girl needs someone to listen, who am I to say no? You seem like the thinking type, aren’t you? What’s become of the Jedi Order, if the only person who’ll listen–actually listen–is an old Selonian techie?”


    She deflated, closing her eyes and taking in the lovely scent of balooma blooms.


    “It’s difficult to know what’s going on in the masters’ heads,” Barriss allowed.


    “They aren’t honest,” Heezo returned to his fixing, “Simple as that. You talk, and they give you quotes and platitudes in return. And if that doesn’t solve what’s ailing you… well, now you’re the problem. Iskat told me her old Master didn’t like her all that much, you know? But there’s no Master who wouldn’t take on a Padawan they didn’t like.”


    Now that was curious. Heezo spoke as if he was an old hand at these things, and for some odd reason Barriss doubted he had been a therapist for that many Jedi.


    “You’ve been here a long time, haven’t you?”


    The old Selonian paused, his fur flattening, and his answer was measured, “Forty years. It’s been a long time.”


    “Forty years,” Barriss echoed, “Do regular staff stay that long?”


    “...I was a Jedi, once,” Heezo finally admitted, “Forty years ago.”


    “Never quite made it to Padawan?”


    “Never quite made it to Knight. I didn’t pass the Jedi Trials.”


    It didn’t take an empath to sense the whole chest of bitterness that accompanied that statement, but Barriss was an empath by trade, and she sensed a bitterness not even the serenity of a Thousand Fountains could wane. From the corner of her eye, she caught a mouth full of sharp teeth open in a silent hiss.


    “The Jedi Trials are a lot easier now,” Barriss didn’t know what exactly possessed her to rub in the salt, but she trusted her own judgement, “Most Padawans who see live combat get Knighted.”


    “Lot’s of Padawans die,” Heezo grunted, “Lot’s of fake Knights die. Iskat nearly did.”


    “Where was that?” Barriss wondered. She heard it before.


    “Thule,” the Selonian supplied.


    “Thule,” she repeated. She hadn’t noticed when, but Iskat’s head was now lying peacefully upon her lap, cradled in the soft zeyd-cloth folds of her dress, “So what do you suggest, then?”


    Heezo raised a furry eyebrow, “As if any of us could do something about it.”


    “I can,” Barriss replied with more confidence than she thought she possessed, “I mean, I regularly talk to a Councilmember.”


    “What, the spymaster?” Heezo asked doubtfully, “Really? Well, maybe you can convince her to assassinate Dooku. That should end the war. One old man for a whole lot of kids seems like a fair trade.”


    The Selonian huffed, his chest-hair puffing, “But what do I know? I’m just a droid maintenance technician.”


    Barriss glanced at the electrical panel hidden in the wall, “That doesn’t look like a droid.”


    Heezo froze. There was a prickly shift to his fur that suggested she shouldn’t continue this line of questioning, which only told her that this was the right line of questioning to continue on. After all, she was not Iskat Akaris, and Heezo was not her friend.


    “Haven’t you heard?” the Selonian returned breezily, “The Temple’s been short on hands ever since the war began. Hah… for most of us, double-duty it is.”


    “Is that… so?”


    The technician clapped his paws and hooked the false panel back onto the walls, insetting it so perfectly Barriss nearly forgot where it was in the first place. She tore her attention back to the Selonian, the furs on the back of his neck raised, despite the easy-going grin adorning his lips. It was clear that he wasn’t going to say any more unless prodded.


    Barriss courted the idea of just… getting into his head. Literally. Heezo may have been a Jedi once, but he was also decades out of practice. It wouldn’t be too difficult to just… read his mind. Or his emotions, more exactly. Perhaps not exactly the Jedi way, but it was a way–and the fastest and simplest way–to get the answers she wanted.


    But before she could act on her impulsive thoughts–there was a pulse in the air, as if someone had turned the volume of the universe, like the muteness following a whipcrack. The sounds of flowing water was gone, along with the rustling of flora and chatter of birds and critters. Barriss straightened in alarm, and Heezo’s fur snapped straight, the Selonian rising to his full height. Iskat stirred in her sleep.


    And then the sounds came rushing back in like a water hammer, pounding her ear drums loudly.


    Something just happened, Barris looked around instinctively, something terrible. Like a million voices screamed out and the universe stopped to listen.


    Heezo glanced around, his ears upright and swivelling like a periscope, before he sighed and settled down, “Getting more violent, these things are. I mislike it.”


    “More common?” Barriss inquired, not quite yet so sure of herself.


    “...Well, I like to call ‘em ‘events’,” the Selonian hesitantly explained, “The war goes on like background noise for many of us, but when something so dreadful that could make even the Force flinch happens… we flinch with it. There was a parade of ‘events’ during Operation Trident’s Perlemian Offensive, small and minor ones that could give you gooseflesh… but after Eriadu, the Force stopped reacting.”


    The technician chuckled morosely, “Or maybe, we just got too used to the noise. This was the first ‘event’ since Eriadu. Not as unsettling, but still noticeable.”


    Barriss opened her mouth to reply, but her attention was stolen by a sudden chime found deep within her dress. Her comlink. It was muffled, and hardly audible, and she thought of pretending it wasn’t there..


    But Heezo’s feline ears immediately perked up, “I’ll get out of your way, miss.”


    “Hm,” Barriss fished the device out, humming and making no sign of her prior intentions, “It was a pleasure, Heezo.”


    “...Any friend of Iskat is a friend of mine,” was all the Selonian had to say before he disappeared behind a vine-covered exit, likely leading into some maintenance corridor or the other.


    Barriss felt the pressure remove from her lap as Iskat sat up, rubbing her eyes as she did so.


    “Welcome back,” was all she said as she pressed down on the comlink, “Your friend was nice.”


    “Barriss,” Master Adi Gallia’s voice was impatient, “Meet me at the funerary halls.”


    Again? I thought that was a one-off thing.


    Barriss glanced at Iskat, who was glaring daggers at the comlink as if it had personally insulted her, “Iskat’s with me. Should I bring her along?”


    “...If she needs to stretch her legs.”


    “I take offence to being treated like a restless dog,” Iskat’s gravelly voice said blandly, “Where are we going?”


    “If you want to find out…” Master Gallia’s voice tailed off–and then cut, leaving the both of them on an uncomfortable high note.


    “Well,” Iskat broke the strange silence, “Let’s not keep her waiting. Follow me.”


    Instead of making for the brush back into the Room of a Thousand Fountains, Iskat marched straight for the hidden maintenance access Heezo just left through.


    “Is it quicker this way?” Barriss questioned curiously.


    “And unseen,” Iskat grinned, “I’ve made a habit of it. Not like there’s any rules against Jedi using the staff corridors. It also lets me escape the… the looks.”


    She waved a hand forward, “Lead the way.”


    The walk to the funerary chambers, as Iskat had promised, was swift and silent. Maybe Heezo had not been untruthful, when claimed there was a shortage of staff, for Barriss spied nobody in using the seemingly abandoned corridors deep within the Temple. And making out into the funerary chambers was even stranger, as Iskat peered through spyhole after spyhole–which Barriss imagined were used to ensure the rooms outside were empty–to pick the correct door to leave through.


    Then they simply just… popped out of the wall.


    Thankfully, this time there wasn’t a body on the altar. Just two Jedi Masters standing beside it. Looking at them. In surprise.


    “...Surprise?” Iskat said weakly as the two Knights stared down Jedi Masters Adi Gallia and Plo Koon.


    “Did you find anything in there?” the Tholothian Master questioned.


    “...No?” Barriss answered hesitantly, “Were we supposed to?”


    “Master Gallia’s asking whether she had done her job right,” Master Plo Koon clarified, not unkindly, a leathery four-fingered hand beckoning them closer, “Now that we have all gathered, Adi… may you enlighten us as to why this council make take place is such a… dreary location?”


    “It’s the only place in which I’ve confirmed that there are no ears,” Master Gallia answered dryly, “Now, the mission.”


    “Hold on,” Iskat interrupted, “Bode isn’t here?”


    “You weren’t supposed to be here either.”


    “Why’s Barriss getting special treatment?”


    “Well if you would listen,” Adi Gallia emphasised, “You might just find out.”


    Iskat Akaris closed her mouth.


    “Now, as you might not have heard,” the Jedi Order’s resident spymaster continued, “Empress Teta has seceded from the Republic… maybe a week ago. Separatist ships are now raiding up and down the Agricultural Circuit, and I reckon we’ll all be on rations within the month.”


    “...What?” Iskat pressed.


    “Good. That means the HoloCommunications Commission is doing its job of suppressing information well,” the Jedi Master continued, “As such, we’ll be going on a… diplomatic mission to Empress Teta.”


    “The… four of us?” Barriss wondered. She searched for any signs of discomfort in the two masters, signs they noticed the ''event'' as Heezo called it. She found none, which shouldn''t surprise her. They wouldn''t be Jedi Masters if they could be moved so easily.


    “The four of us,” Master Plo Koon confirmed.


    “But why?”


    “I’m the Jedi with the most diplomatic experience left in the Temple,” Master Gallia pointed out, “Iskat isn’t supposed to be here in the first place. And Master Plo is the only person to ever defeat the Battle Hydra in the field.”


    “The Battle Hydra–” Barriss’ heart leapt.


    “The Battle Hydra’s in the Deep Core!?” Iskat exclaimed, “That’s… not good.”


    “Do we even have a fleet to take to Empress Teta?” Barriss asked.


    “The Strategic Planning Amphitheatre had convened an emergency session,” Master Gallia explained, “Where Master Plo had requested a fleet to take to Empress Teta. While it’s true he nearly died at Metalorn, it’s also true that excluding Master Rancisis, he’s the only person to have ever defeated Rain Bonteri in his element. High Command couldn’t find a justification to say no. Especially not at the rate the war is going. Empress Teta’s the first, and soon, other worlds might follow in her footsteps. The Republic cannot show weakness.”


    “...I’ll hazard a guess and assume this ‘diplomatic effort’ isn’t a GAR-sanctioned action,” Iskat Akaris sighed, “We’ll be stowaways?”


    “You assume wrongly,” Master Plo replied, “High Command has every reason to prefer a peaceful resolution to an affair as fragile as the Tetan Secession. The Jedi will be taking full command of the task force, and I will only be present in case Admiral Bonteri declines a peaceful discussion, which I doubt would occur. He is in as terrible a situation as us.”


    “Somehow I doubt that,” the Tholothian Jedi muttered.


    “Then we are fortunate you are a diplomat and not a commander, Master Gallia.”


    “But what will we negotiate about?” Iskat demanded, “With the Battle Hydra no less!”


    “What else?” Jedi Master Adi Gallia smiled kindly, “We do need allies against our Sith Lord, and if Master Plo’s suspicions are correct, the Battle Hydra might just know who he is. The Supreme Chancellor might tell you otherwise, but I find this situation quite the lucky break for us. We can do away with all that tedious investigation and go straight to the answer.”