Waters of Life

[Q. Samus Dage]

The tunnel of hyperspace was always a sight to behold. It was a swirling mass of lines, pinwheeling in a kaleidascope of white and yellow, with the occasional bit of blue zipping past. It was peaceful, it was soothing, and it was a calming vision of tranquility. But, sometimes it was a terrible quiet before the storm. It could so often be the silent harbinger of chaos once a ship dropped back into subspace.

Samus Dage had been present for far too many of those times.

He had seen many things during his time with the Alliance, from their beginning years as simple planet hoppers, on into their ascendance into something more; something resembling a government that had been drawn together in the unifying cause of freedom from the yoke of Imperial rule. They'd all sacrificed, all lost something. And yet, each of them soldiered on. They kept moving ahead, without looking back. They mourned, but they did not falter from their path.

Sitting in the seat that was normally occupied by his captain, the rangy commander leaned back casually, his eye staring ahead at the forward viewport in an unfocussed gaze. So beautiful, so potentially deadly. He breathed out a long sigh as Mr. Rahgus, the Farghul navigator, turned to look over his shoulder.


"Coming up on the drop point, Commander."


"Good."

He let his hand fall away from where it'd been resting beneath his chin, and his features set into a stern mask. Leaning back, he addressed the constant sentinal that stood just behind him.

"I want our comms on point the moment we leave hypserspace."

"Yes Sir."

KHER, as always, stood ready. His hawkish head angled only slightly as he prepared his larger self, pinging through his comm arrays with checks and rechecks. Readiness was paramount.

Another few minutes passed before Rahgus spoke, this time with a slightly louder, and commanding tone.

"Terminus in five... four... three... two... one... "

The Khera'Va'ss'io dashed his way into realspace with a silent, thunderous crack, heralded only by a split second of blinding light. His matte green hull slid through space like a hot knife cutting through shaak butter, and his bulk listed only slightly starboard in a trajectory that would bring him closer to the floating blue orb that hung so peacefully in space.

Except...

Commander, I am detecting a single Star Destroyer in orbit- "

Dage rocked forward, his back suddenly straight as he kept his hands on the armrests of the chair. It was a controlled reaction to keep him from rising fully to his feet.

"Mind our distance, Mr. Rahgus."

"Aye, Sir."

Rahgus, his clawed hands firmly on the control handles, pulled up only slightly, and the ship responded in kind, slowing even further.

With a decidedly sour countenance, Dage released one hand, a single finger depressing the callbutton in the armrest.

"Captain, I think you should see this."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

In her office, s'Il found herself inundated with a plethora of busywork. Orders to go over, duty rosters to approve, and other minute transactions that - while mundane - still required the eye of any captain. It was certainly not to the level of what she had tended to during her time on the Dauntless, but it was unavoidable nonetheless. And frustrating. And yet... satisfying. It made her feel purpose in a strange sort of way.

Sitting at the desk in her office, the Lupine was halfway through one of the many reports that she'd been given by KHER when Dage's voice cut through her concentrations. The tone with which he spoke was enough to give her pause, and she let the datapad shift in her hand, the top coming down just a small bit as her head tilted up.

"Yes?"

"Star Destroyer, Ma'am."

Even before the words left his mouth, she was on her feet. A star destroyer? The 'pad and its' contents were immediately forgotten as she skirted her desk.

"I'm on my way."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Is that the Alliance cruiser, then?"

"They're broadcasting an Alliance code, sir."

"Lovely thing."

Captain Rolth Wygraant watched the organic lines of the unknown ship ply the far edge of Manaan's orbit, tracing along the blue curvature with plenty of distance to separate them. His gloved hands clasped behind his back as he watched the singular ship that heralded the new masters of Manaan.

"It matches the description of one of the cruisers our spies spotted during the Battle of Ossus."

Commander Belgen paced the observation deck from stern to bow, coming to a stop adjacent to his superior. Both men looked on at the rare breed peering at them halfway across Manaan.

"I've never seen anything remotely like it. Certainly not a Mon Calamari design."

"Nor Corellian."

Wygraant snorted dismissively. "Hardly."

It was all well and good to window gawk, but Belgen knew they had other business to attend to.

"Shall I put us on condition yellow?"

The Captain held up a gloved hand, shaking his head.

"No, no. I don't believe this changes our calculus here. We didn't come here to pick a fight, after all."

Pausing, Wygraant raised a thoughtful eyebrow.

"The Knights may wish to know of this, however."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The gorg struggled in her grasp as Vissica's fanged mouth closed over it's head. It's thrashing ceased to be that of concerted struggle and became the arrhythmic spasm of a destroyed nervous system, impulses firing in a release of last unrequited signal as snapping jaws crushed the amphibian's skull, then in a rending pull, wrenched the head from the animal's body in stringy visceral release. The Selonian's black eyes narrowed thin as she torqued down in crushing bites to break bone and cleave the head into two swallow-sized parcels. Red stained her chin fur, mingling with a string of saliva that ran down her mouth, connected like a ribbon to the still-twitching corpse in her hands.

Vissica opened her eyes with a growl at the sealed doors of her chambers. She was not to be disturbed during the brief time that was required to feed, but someone moved with intent at this moment to do just that. Dropping her food to the ground, the Selonian rose to her feet as she dispensed with her mouthful in two more punctuated chomps, and a forceful swallow.

[Palara Iscandar]

The door slid open, and in view was a twi'lek female. She was dwarfed by the larger Selonian, but there was no fear in her. In fact, there was a note of condescension.

"Must you eat so much like a barbarian?" Imperial Knight Iscandar grimaced. "It is disturbing, to say ze least. Do clean up. We 'ave sighted a previously unrecorded Alliance vessel class. And our presence has requested."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica's pink tongue flurrped across her muzzle, then removed the last offending traces from her left paw as she regarded her Twi'lek comrade with a look of strained patience. She spoke of matters short of battle, and in the Selonian's fixated state, summoning her for less than that purpose seemed to be trivium.

"This mission already leaves a bad taste in my mouth. An Alliance warship within sight, and we do not bring battle to them."

The giantess moved along the Decimator's corridors with Palara in lockstep. If her normal expression were dour, it would seem particularly stormy at present.

"I am unaccustomed to sipping tea with my enemy, comrade."

[Palara Iscandar]

"'Oo said we shall be speaking to zem?" Palara asked shortly, stepping into the turbolift that would take them to the bridge, and pressing the command button. "Zis may well turn out to be just what you were 'oping for."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The reassurance was met with a spring in Vissica's array of whiskers. If the Twi'lek knew more to this assignment than she did, it would be a welcome addition to the dreaded drudgery of watching rebels feast from the Empire's rightful bounty. Still, Palara spoke no more plainly than Baastian did, chewing on her words in that annoyingly glib way that frustrated her more direct sensibility.

"I will learn to read your tails one day, Palara. Perhaps they speak more plainly than your words."

Annoyed yet hungry by her cryptic promise for more, Vissica crossed her arms high over her chest as the lift began to slow at the termination of ascent.

"If there is a battle, I will be pleased. There is no dignity in giving the Rebels un-earned spoils."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

As she stepped through the threshold onto the bridge, s'Il felt a bit of the old familiar descend upon her. So many old memories, and yet they were new all the same. Fresh experience that warranted a fresh approach.

Striding ahead, she moved to the front of the comm platform that held her chair and the compact dashboard rail of KHER'S and Dage's posts. It was a flowing arrangement, the bridge of the Khera'Va'ss'io. The single solitary captain's chair, occupied still by Samus, rested toward the back on a level above all else. The pilot's nesting plug was settled organically in the center of it all, yet so seemingly inconspicuous. Before them all was the ever-so-slightly raised walkway that traversed the length of the curved viewport, affording them all with a magnificent view of Manaan.

Of course, the sight of the star destroyer hanging in space above the planet sullied that visual; like a krayt dragon on a bed of corusca gems it stood out, the unmistakable angular knife's edge of the Imperial ship a sharp and very stark contrast to the peacefulness of an otherwise picturesque scene.

She slowed, coming to a stop beside the pilot's 'cockpit'. Another few moments of contemplative observation passed before she turned to Dage.

"I was under the distinct impression that Imperial presence was a non-factor, Commander."

"So were we, Ma'am."

Turning back, s'Il gave a hrmph. She watched a moment longer, then moved. Decisive strides took the blonde up the single stepway that led to the horseshoe catwalk. It wasn't much higher that the main level, but it was enough to put her a head higher than all else on the bridge.

Another few second of contemplative silence followed.

"Keep us at a constant distance, Mr. Rahgus. I don't want that thing getting any closer than it is."

"Yes Ma'am."

The Farghul obliged with ease, pulling back on the control levers in both of his hands. Khera'Va'ss'io obeyed, coming to almost a full stop.

She half-turned to look at her ship's physical manifestation, still standing rigid behind the rear control dash. "Give me a channel."

KHER, his unblinking black orbs trained forward, let his hands fall to his sides.

Channel open, Captain.

Turning back, s'Il squared her shoulders, her chin angling up ever-so-slightly as her features remained a stoic mask of intent for the holo-imager that she knew was now focused on her, and the image that she knew it would be sending to the Imperial warship.

"This is Captain s'Ilancy of the Alliance ship Khera'Va'ss'io." A pause, as she let her frown deepen into a scowl of knowledge that, despite her next words, was an obvious farce of forced politics.

"It seems our timetables have overlapped."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Captain, we're receiving open channel from the Rebel cruiser."

A comms officer in the crew deck put Wygraant on notice, and the Captain nodded on the observation deck, squaring his stance on the catwalk. The holoprojector delivered the reconstituted image of a blonde-haired humanoid in 1:1 ratio to stand next to the Imperial skipper.

Khera'Va'ss'io. Wygraant winced slightly at the unlikely mongrel name. Typical rebels. No doubt named after some manner of ghastly creature with nictitating membranes and scales.

"Well met, Captain. I am Captain Wygraant of the Imperial Star Destroyer Decimator. And yes, it would seem we are somewhat behind schedule."

Lips pressed thin in a polite smile, Captain Wygraant played his part in the farce.

"We shan't be long, I assure you."

From the periphery of his vision, Wygraant noticed the double doors of the bridge part as the Imperial Knights stepped onto the bridge. Carefully, Wygraant centered his attention on Captain s'Ilancy once more.

"Our garrisons have nearly completed embarkation. If it pleases you, I can instruct your landing craft to coordinates for an unhindered journey."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Unhindered. Quaint.

With a mask of sudden geniality, s'Il let her body move of its' own accord, a slight motion that resulted in a genteel bow; an acknowledgement of kindness made under duress. Or a stall. In this moment in time the two were the same. Her features returned to their previous stony mask, casting to the side that brief moment of understanding. In its' place was a knowing glint in her broken gaze.

"Captain Wygraant."

She stopped short of calling into question the abilities of the 'all great and powerful might of the Imperial machine', favoring instead a softer, yet equally damning line of questioning.

"Your garrisons should be off planet by now."

A half turn as Dage approached, ascending the shallow step that marked the entrance to the walkway she now stood upon. He handed her a datapad that she briefly glanced at. A rather pointed look, sent over the tops of unimpressed eyes - one blue and one stark white - was given to the blue-hued projection of Wygraant standing before her.

"Unless... "

The rest did not need to be said and yet she pressed further. A strange sort of prodding that was further helped along by her mismatched stare.

"Do your men need help, then, Captain... ?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

This Captain s'Ilancy was no fool. Wygraant's smile broadened by a degree, understanding that he'd certainly be pressing in a similar fashion should their roles be reversed.

"In an ideal galaxy, Captain. You'll appreciate the logistics of Manaan soon enough, I assure you. Embarking an entire legionary garrison from an ocean world has it's...unique demands."

The Decimator's Captain accentuated his point with an open-handed gesture.

"An hour should be enough to suffice, Captain. You've waited this long for victory, let's keep the matter gentlemanly. In the meantime, I'm sure the First Minister would have a raft of matters to discuss with his new masters?"

The crows feet tightened slightly around Wygraant's eyes.

"Regime change is messy business, even when it's bloodless."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a moment that passed between the two; a shared understanding that transcended the simple confines of an equally simple holo transmission. And in that moment, s'Il leaned forward ever-so-slight, a predatory grin creeping onto her features like the smallest of toothy Nexu grins.

"I'm no 'gentleman', Captain Wygraant."

A flick of her fingers was sent to KHER, and the droid complied with the silent order to cut the line.

Captain Wygraant's projected form blinked out of existence. Turning to look at Rahgus, s'Il let her eye travel to KHER as she turned on her heel. Dage was mindful to beat a hasty retreat, only stopping beside the nested pilot's plug as his captain stormed past him, the datapad shoved back into his hands as she passed him.

"I want all telemetry data on the Imperial shuttles coming up from the planet cross-referenced with what an ISD can reasonably hold, and a running tally of what they currently have on the surface."

As you wish, Captain. I might add that-

"I'd rather not indulge your additions, KHER. And KHER..."

Captain?

"Make yourself as obvious as you can."

If that is what you wish.

"It is."

Spoken with a degree of impatience, s'Il paused to turn back to the deceptive display of the swirling blue planet they now orbited. A world that was otherwise so serene and untouched, if not for the single star destroyer on her periphery.

Rahgus was the first to venture a word.

"Nav orders, "Ma'am?"

"Keep us stationary," she gestured to the far-off, bone-white star destroyer that sullied an otherwise pristine view. "... and distanced from that."

"Yes Ma'am."

[Palara Iscandar]

"We are out of time."

Iscandar's voice cut through the momentary silence following the abrupt disappearance of the blonde captain. The red skinned Twi'lek spun on her heel to face Wygraant.

"Vissica and I shall go to ze planet surface and finish ze demolition preparation. Stall as much as possible, Capitain. Position yourself aggressively if you must."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Attention fixed to the Knights now that matters were fully on simmer with his Alliance opposite, Captain Wygraant coolly clasped his hands behind him as he returned the length of the observation deck catwalk to where the two alien women stood.

"I hardly think the Alliance is in any mood to sweep aside rapprochement, Lady Iscandar. But should it come to that, I'll make sure to keep a stiff upper lip about things."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

At last, the nature of their presence on Manaan was revealed. Vissica rumbled a throaty approval of Palara's intended gambit, pleased that there was no intention of giving up the planet without a good last parting shot. The Selonian Knight kept silent on her musings for now. It wouldn't do for the men under their command to think they were anything less than of one mind on this matter. Vissica scratched a clawed thumb against her chin fur as she considered the coming storm about to sweep the planet below.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Lowering herself to sit in her chair, s'Il leaned back only slightly, angling a small bit to one side as an elbow resting on the formed armrest. Fingers one by one pressed into the pad of her thumb as she stared ahead at the view before them all. Her face was a mask of stern disapproval, and as Dage moved to stand beside KHER, she let out a hefh. Not a word was spoken as each one of the small crew watched in unison. Rahgus turned around, but a shake of Dage's head silenced any possible questions that might've been asked.

The Lupine sat, her body still as she stared ahead, gaze fixated on the Imperial warship. And then her eyes narrowed, her thoughts and senses spreading out over the gulf between them in an attempt to divine what was happening that her eye was not seeing. Ethereal fingers reached out to bridge the gap, and to take hold for her own whatever intentions that she could glean from those aboard Decimator.

[Palara Iscandar]

"We will not 'ave much time, Knight Vissica," Iscandar said as they entered the turbolift to take them to the hangar bay. "If zis Alliance captain 'as 'alf a brain, she will not linger zere in 'er ship. She will land as soon as possible. We must 'ave ze charges primed and ready."

Icandar did not check her lightsaber or light whip hilts. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes, centring herself and immersing in the Force. A sharp note of danger emanated from the Alliance vessel, but the twi'lek Imperial was not interested or curious about that vessel or its captain. She bent her mind to the planet, and the ancient Ahto City structure, where Imperial troops were slowly gearing up to be shipped aboard, and a team of engineers was busy placing explosive charges on the kolto facilities, both underwater and in the City itself. If things went badly, there was at least a good chance that the underwater facility would be destroyed.

"And Vissica," Iscandar said, a thought coming to her, "do try to keep from killing any of our soldiers while zere, yes? It would make us look weak to our enemies if we were to resort to such measures."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"I do not like this deception."

Vissica's growled protest was as likely to dissuade Palara as a rebel plea for clemency, but the Selonian felt it important for such a protest to be vocal and forthcoming nonetheless.

"We oppose the rebels here. We should do so openly, so they know they have been beaten honestly."

Her thoughts wandered back to the flickering hologram of the Rebel commander, and for a moment, Vissica swore she had a moment of clarity in the fog of lies and half truths Wygraant and Palara summoned so freely. A note of conflict in the force, and something more. The Selonian closed her eyes, shaking her head to dispel the uncertain feeling that could not manifest itself any clearer at the moment.

The turbolift doors shifted open to the left, allowing the Knights to negotiate the distance across the hangar bay to their waiting shuttlecraft. Palara's last warning was met only with a slight showing of teeth.

"Weak soldiers make us look weak, comrade."

The Selonian snorted an exhaled huff from her wet nose.

"But they will not die by my hand for their incompetence today."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

What had been a vague notion, hollow yet slowly filling with intent, now became a feeling so certain that there was no denying the immediate need for action. There was nothing so defined as a sure answer, but the whispers and eddies of the Force did not lie in the impressions that they gave. Certainly no Darkness; no, she would be able to sense such a thing so easily within the ever-moving currents that surrounded them all. No, this was something else. Not explicitly evil in the true sense of the word, but certainly there was no tinge of the Light. Instead, it seemed much more murky, like an obfuscating cloud of deception.

And then, a fleeting glimpse of determination burst into view so plainly in front of her before being swept away once more.

Yet, in that brief glimpse she could feel the need to move. To act. To make right the wrongness of this situation. But as all things tended to be these days, it was not so simple. She could certainly not fire upon an Imperial destroyer without terrible reprisal, and while she had full faith in her ship and crew, there were things that remained a universal constant, and things that came into being that created necessary workarounds for the straightforward ways of so many years ago.

She stood, her hands going to the hem of her tunic, tugging at the edge of the stiff fabric.

"Have my shuttle prepped."