Era of Rebellion - Navigation

Sean Brandt, Christopher Levy, and Sarah Riggs-Shute.
Zero years after the Battle of Yavin (35:10:21) in the Essesia system: Darkened Oblivion and Warspite and in the the Kuat system: Kuat Drive Yards Orbital Array.
Lieutenant Allegra Ames, Liliya Benedt, Lieutenant Bernard Dunford, Captain Serra Eona, Major Kerrie Kiley, Lieutenant Meham'ohorovi'cloca, Grand Moff Claudius Rodney, Lieutenant Bethany Sheppard, High Inquisitor Serine Thanor, Flight Captain Randi Trainor, Flight Officer Liem Trotter (death), and Major Arden Zevrin.

Lieutenant Meham'ohorovi'cloca stood in the command crew pits of the Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Warspite orbiting the planet Esseles. It was a day like any other day, monitoring the comings and goings of all of the civilian craft heading to and from the surface, and trying to coordinate the massive Imperial force that had began to assemble. She was cold, precise, and clung to her duties with the professional attitude that her species had become known for. It was therefore no surprise that she arched her right eyebrow when she noticed an unexpected large blip on her scanners. "Lieutenant Ames," she began, her voice sounding exotic, as was expected from a woman drawn far from the unknown regions. "I have an unscheduled arrival at the hyperspace exit point. Looks to be an Impstar-Deuce," she said, matter-of-factly, as she began to do a more precise scan of the vessel to identify. There was a moment of silence as the data came upon her screen, but she did not want to believe what she was seeing. Every member of the Warspite's crew remembered High Inquisitor Tremayne's visit ... how could they not? ... and no one was eager for a return engagement. "One moment, Lieutenant. Verifying," she said, clearing her throat, as she displayed an uncharacteristic display of nervousness. Her red eyes widened as the scanners confirmed the vessel's transponder, which caused her heart rate to increase considerably. "Scanner data confirmed. It is the Star Destroyer Interrogator," she said, coldly, as she swallowed noticeably, causing her throat to bulge against the collar of her uniform.

Lieutenant Allegra Ames had the command duty watch, and therefore was posted on the walkway overlooking Meham'ohorovi'cloca and the other junior officers down in the pits. When she heard about the arrival of another Star Destroyer she was not at all concerned, as they were expecting reinforcements as the Grand Moff increased the size of the force he was hurling against the Rebel cell in the Oversector. But when she heard the single word 'Interrogator' she froze dead in her tracks, and all of the color left her fair, young skin. This was finally *it*, she thought silently to herself as she reflected on the news ... they had all had it ... they were done for. She went scrambling towards the nearest comm panel, her immaculately polished, although not by her, boots slammed upon the durasteel deck plates, causing loud *clanks* to precede her movements. When she arrived at the panel she hurriedly slammed on the direct line to Liliya Benedt, the Grand Moff's personal aide and gatekeeper. "Benedt, inform the Grand Moff that High Inquisitor Tremayne has arrived!" she announced, in a panic, as she began to check over her uniform to ensure that the Ensign she had forced to press it had done an immaculate job.

Liliya had been busying herself with organizing the Governor's desk along with his personal and professional items. It was strictly against protocol and even pushed the boundaries, but he always appreciated her dedication and immaculate organizational skills. Ever since he had been granted access to an ever increasing fleet, Liliya has found herself even more busy than she had ever expected. A two-edged sword for Rodney, as with his ever growing reliance on her specialties, she had ever growing access to delicate reports and sensitive information. Unfortunate for her, she was unable to directly or even indirectly hand over such priority data to the Rebellion despite her large cache of top-secret files. Liliya had just finished scheduling all of the Governor's appointments for the next week, feeling quite accomplished, when her work was abruptly halted by an urgent and extremely alarming call from Lieutenant Ames. Liliya was so startled that she did not even respond in compliance but stumbled backward until she toppled over right into the chair that luckily caught her fall. The circumstances that surrounded High Inquisitor Tremayne's previous visit had been burned so deeply into her databanks that even the mention of his name would send programmed shivers throughout her being in which she had no control. She had watched an innocent man be literally ripped apart before her eyes. An arm had been ruthlessly severed and rib cage splayed apart that sent blood spraying across her velvet black dress. She couldn't even force herself to delete such memory files, they were too intense. Was he arriving to murder more officers? She had to inform Grand Moff Rodney but she found herself having difficulty moving from her chair.

The crew onboard of the Interrogator were efficient, decisive and fiercely cold. They had to be to survive the cruel iron rule of High Inquisitor Tremayne. There was no wasted time in their hail to the Warspite. The voice on the other end was frigid, resolute and brief. "This is Lieutenant Dunford of the Interrogator. Prepare to receive the High Inquisitor." No further instructions were given and as the hail went dead silent, the Interrogator drew closer as if there were no other options but to do as commanded.

When Lieutenant Meham'ohorovi'cloca received the hail from the Interrogator, she immediately feared the worst and began in depth analysis in her mind of any errors they may have made to cause such a turn of events. To the best of her abilities she had struggled to maintain a proper semblance of command in the region, despite the Grand Moff's period of uncertainty following the defection of his daughter. Perhaps the Emperor had come to question the Governor's loyalties given his ties to Alderaan and the fact that his eldest child was now branded in a traitor in such a highly public and embarrassing fashion. But that was months ago ... would they have really waited so long to retaliate? In the Empire all things were possible, she noted silently to herself, and found that if the various branches of the Empire simply halted their machinations against one another and cooperated this lowly Rebellion would have been pacified at its conception. But these were issues decided by those far above a Lieutenant in the Imperial Navy. "*He* is coming," was all the Chiss Lieutenant could muster the courage to announce to those around her.

"The High Inquisitor is coming here?" an incredibly nervous Lieutenant Ames repeated, as if in a daze. Mentally she began to plan the fastest route to the nearest escape pod if the need to abandon ship arose. She would not allow herself to go down with this last command. In frustration she slammed another gloved fist down upon the comm panel. "Damn it, Benedt. The High Inquisitor is en route. You need to get the Grand Moff down to the hangar bay," she said, yelling, as she began to act as if the sky were falling. The High Inquisitor could make the sky fall, couldn't he?

Being a human replica droid, she should not have the ability to process such raw irrational emotion, but she was designed to be as human as possible ... and with that came the capacity for intense fear. A second comm from the Lieutenant was just enough to snap Liliya out of her daze and allow her to focus with some struggle on the task at hand. With effort, she managed to stand from the chair, smooth out the small wrinkles in her black dress and grab her datapad before a concerned gaze fell upon the Governor. She was all too worried he noticed her plummet from grace, however to her relief, he appeared distant. Perhaps she was spared the embarrassment and shame. Liliya cautiously approached Claudius from behind and delicately reached out with a hand to gently touch his shoulder as if to alert him without startling. "We have been hailed..." She paused for a moment with visible dread. "It is the Interrogator." He should also be all too aware of her experiences with Tremayne as he was there during that fateful encounter.

A touch from Liliya was always enough to break him out of the terrible period of hopelessness he had felt since the loss of his daughter to the Rebellion. It was as if she pushed a button, activating him after a period of slumber. Although he was physically standing there, his mind was far off in search of Jelena, whose absence grew more painful with each passing day. To him, she was not a defector, but the victim of fiendish Rebel brainwashing plot. He turned, initially looking quite happy to see the beautiful young Alderaanian aide, but his mood soon turned to one of melancholy when he heard that the Interrogator had arrived. He brought his left hand up, as his forehead cratered into the fingers of the hand. His brow furrowed, and he used the next few moments to think and carefully plot out his next moves. "Very well. You return to your personal quarters. Lock yourself in," he insisted, realizing the impact that Tremayne's last visit had upon his delicate flower. He did not want her to bare witness to what was likely to be a more intense and horrific encounter. The old man, fearing for the future, could not help himself, and he leaned forward to place a soft, gentle kiss upon her cheek. "Go now," he said, softly, before moving from his office towards the corridor, to find the nearest turbolift down towards the hangar bay.

In the mess deck there was a rush of activity as rumors were already circulating throughout the officer corps about the unexpected and unwanted arrival of the Interrogator. Each table began to clear out rapidly, as if someone had passed gas and caused an odious aroma that made the food unappetizing. Before long the only officer left eating was Flight Captain Randi Trainor, who was too busy listening to a song in her head to be aware of anything that was transpiring around her. The blonde pilot was in her own little world, and when she ultimately opened her eyes she saw that everyone was gone. Her initial thoughts were to move to the uneaten trays and grab everyone's unfinished desert, but a group of junior officers quickly brushed past her, stirring her mind back into reality. "Where's everybody going? Is there a circus in town?" she asked, but no one bothered to answer her, to her dismay. She was just about to reach over and grab someone's pudding when the speaker above her activated, ordering all available officers to muster on the flight deck. "Damn," Randi said, as she took a spoonful of pudding, and began to scramble towards the exit like the others who preceded her. She nearly made it to the exit when she saw some green gelatine, causing her to stop directly in her tracks. "Well. I shouldn't let it go to waste," she said, as a big smile curled upon her disoriented face, and she grabbed a handful of the gelatin. She realized she was now late and she hurried to follow the other officers to her position in the formation, but clumsily crashed into a table, causing it to turn her over, and her with it. The resulting crash and calamity left both her and floor a food splattered mess. "No time to change!" she said to herself, despite the fact that she was literally dripping with goo, and moved as best she could to catch up with the others.

There was a confluence of activity on the Warspite's hangar bay, as officers from every branch of the service scrambled into formation. There were Stormtroopers, naval officers, and even members of the dreaded Imperial Security Bureau. Room had been made for the High Inquisitor's shuttle to land, and in the middle of it all stood Grand Moff Rodney and his adjutant, Major Kerrie Kiley. "He will have to kill me to get to you, Milord," the Clawdite commando vowed, whispering into her master's ear. She wished she was dressed in her Storm Commando armor, but protocol dictated she wore her black service uniform. She had borne the brunt of the wrath of the Inquisitorius in the past and she, as much as anyone, knew what was likely to be in store. She had faced death countless times, and by all right should be dead now, and therefore was not filled with the same sense of dread and foreboding as those around her. Her only concern was the safety and wellbeing of her charge.

The timed arrival of the acting shuttle craft was impeccable and began docking almost immediately after the assembly amassed in order. The vessel that came quickly into view was far from standard. The Conqueror-Class assault ship was immaculate; the black and red outer coating gleamed within the light of the hangar bay. The paint was new, but the ship was very familiar if one recognized it ... Darkened Oblivion began lowering its landing pads upon the designated area followed by steaming hydraulics as the whole vessel lurched into position. The ramp did not lower right away and seemed to take a bit longer than usual. That could be easily explained if the passenger was also the pilot in this instance. Finally, after an unexpected wait, the ramp lowered and surely enough a High Inquisitor began to descend, but it certainly was not former High Inquisitor Tremayne. Adorned in the robes of her new promotion, High Inquisitor Serine Thanor boldly disembarked and walked towards the Governor with a purposeful stride. Silver eyes peered briefly at the lines of soldiers and officers. It appeared as if nothing much had changed since her departure, much to her contempt. Now that she had the proper sway and power, she would be able to finally set this sector on the right course, with or without Governor Rodney's help or approval. It was apparent that Major Kiley was still enslaved by her misplaced loyalty to Claudius. Now that Serine had her own Star Destroyer to man, she was ever mindful to ... 'recruit' others she deemed worthy, and thus Kerrie was likely on her list to 'encourage'. She stopped a respectful meter distance from Claudius. "Governor." A simple greeting, and to Kerrie, "Major."

There was a hushed silence that fell over the crowd, but there were a few officers who gasped at the sudden and unexpected return of Serine Thanor. There were many who felt relieved that it was the devil they knew returning to the fold, rather than the terrifying Tremayne whose last visit to their ship left a trail of blood that some officers had still not forgotten. There was one officer, however, who had an entirely different and unique reaction. Flight Captain Randi Trainor was jumping up and down so that she could peer over the shoulders of those in front of her to get a better view of the Darkened Oblivion as it entered the hanger. When Serine emerged, she pushed and shoved her way to the crowd before she reached the front of the formation where she had a direct line to the Inquisitor. Breaching all protocol and decorum, she surged forward with an unrivaled energy, directly towards her. "Serry!" she screamed in both excitement and delight, a warm smile curling upon her face. Her two blonde pigtails trailed behind her, like streamers on a child's bicycle, as she closed the distance rapidly between them. At the end she leapt from her feet and wrapped both of her arms tightly around the woman, squeezing as hard as she could. "I missed ya, Serry," she said cheerfully, grinning from ear to ear, unaware of how her food stained garments were soiling Serine's new robes. She was as happy as she remembered being in a long time.

The moment she took a step forward upon the deck and made herself known, Serine immediately sensed an overwhelming mass relief among the Warspite crew. She realized they were expecting Tremayne, and although she did not blame their trepidation, the High Inquisitor was insulted and a bit infuriated of their lack of esteem towards her. Serine's moment of feeling disrespected did not last long as she caught the image of Randi leaping in her direction. She had a brief point of time where she could have chosen an action, but perhaps to everyone's surprise, Serine allowed the completely inappropriate gesture and willingly braced for the impact. The High Inquisitor was extremely sturdy, there was no chance Randi could knock her over, but the collision was certainly jarring ... and a bit messy. Serine did not equally embrace the other, but the very act of not killing the pilot was testimony enough of her approval in some slight way. Instead of murderous rage that she was known for, she patiently waited for Randi to release her before Serine could survey the damage. Her new bright crimson robes were completely ruined, smeared with all sorts of food particles. Was that ... was that green gelatin she spotted? Regardless ... her grand entrance was completely foiled, but other than shaking off some stray gelatin from her hand, Serine remained fully posed and then continued as if nothing had happened. "Captain Trainor, you will report to the Interrogator. You will find that the armaments are superior than those on the Warspite." She said with truth behind her words, although it could be seen as a severe slight to the Governor ... and she did not care if it appeared that way.

The Grand Moff stepped forward, brushing Randi aside in the manner he would a misbehaving pet. "Welcome back, Inquisitor Thanor," he said politely, in the false diplomatic voice he had managed so expertly over the course of his long career. "All decisions regarding personnel transfers, however, are a military matter," he began, as he walked with her slowly past a tightly formed assembly of Stormtroopers. "Captain Trainor is much too valuable to transfer off the command ship," he explained to her, succinctly, as they neared the end of the formation. "I'm sure there are plenty of exceptional pilots from which to choose, whom I would be happy to transfer, if you find the pilots aboard the Interrogator unsatisfactory," he concluded, as he stopped dead in his tracks in front of the turbolift. His head lowered slightly to look into her eyes more directly. "Besides my children, particularly my adopted daughter, have come to ... enjoy ... her," he said, finding it difficult to utter the word of compliment towards the erratic pilot.

Flight Officer Trotter could not help but snicker as the Inquisitor and the Grand Moff passed by his position in the formation. The unkempt nature of her robes following the collision with Captain Trainor was something that he could not help but stare at, and as she drew near he had to bite down sharply on his lower lip to keep from laughing. When the Grand Moff and Inquisitor were sufficiently far away and in the midst of their own conversation, the rookie pilot could not help but share his comments with those on either side of him. "What an imbecile Captain Trainor is. If you ask me, the Grand Moff would be wise to rid himself of her," he said, quietly, followed by a soft laugh from him and those near him. It was doubtful the Governor or Captain Trainor would have heard him, but nothing escapes the power of the Force.

There was a blur of motion followed by a loud crack as the laughter from Flight Officer Trotter was immediately replaced by the sound of gurgling choking. The surrounding officers would be aghast to witness the coils of Serine's infamous lightwhip curling tightly around Trotter's throat. The whip had incredible range and the High Inquisitor was able to skillfully land such a blow even from across the flight deck. The distance was quickly covered as Serine stalked her prey with a sudden flash of rage and heated animosity. "I might have misheard you, were you addressing my pilot?" She said with almost a snarl as the coils tightened ever still, making a response impossible, and only desperate gasps were audible. His actions were inexcusable and unforgivable and thus he was beyond redemption. There was a point that the High Inquisitor needed to make a statement and thus this unfortunate officer would be made an example of. The excotic weapon was ignited, causing the silver coils to flare brilliant red and quickly did the smell of burning flesh fill the hangar bay. It only took a few moments, but they were agonizing and the spectacle was hideously gruesome. Continued pressure was pulled upon the lightwhip, causing the coils to dig ever deeper until the head was completely severed. The decapitated body collapsed uselessly as a painful reminder that High Inquisitor Thanor was not to be trifled with, nor was she ever... And it baffled Serine on why no one ever learned this vital lesson.

"Boy it's great to have you back, Serry!" a blissfully ignorant Randi Trainor cheerfully announced, despite the decapitation that just occurred. The poor young woman had no idea what was happening, or that it somehow involved her. The smile never left her face as the doe eyed blonde gleamed in the direction of the woman whom she considered her very best friend. While other officers cringed and looked away in horror, she was right there at the Inquisitor's side, as happy as one could possibly be. She inhaled softly and smelled the burning flesh, but was unable to put two and two together. "Anyone else hungry?" she asked, as she had not been able to finish her meal when the commotion occurred, leaving her slightly famished. All of her expended energy and theatrics caused her to often need replenishment.

Lieutenant Meham'ohorovi'cloca stood at attention while others fled, having become unfortunately used to the Inquisitors and their little displays of power. The Inquisitor had been gone for months and had been publicly diminished by the exploits of the overzealous pilot, so from a pure position of tactics it was entirely logical to the Chiss officer that *someone* must die. There was a natural order to it, to her, as if somehow the scales had been balanced and the Inquisitor had been brought back up to her fearsome state from the position of comedic foil to the crazy Corellian pilot. She was pleased, however, that if it had to be someone it was a young, inexperienced member of the fighter wing. His life expectancy was among the lowest of the crew and he would be more easily replaced than say a veteran pilot or an experienced engineer. She made a cold, mental note to add an additional crew replacement request to fill his position immediately so that her efficiency in deploying a screening force of TIE fighters would not be diminished.

Major Kerrie Kiley was quick to shuffle to the side, out of the way of the head that was rolling in her direction. The Inquisitor had made a dramatic, violent entrance, which caused her to involuntarily move her left hand to her throat, in traumatic remembrance of her own encounter with the woman and her whip. She, more than anyone, was glad it was not the unpredictable Tremayne. For all of her past experiences with Serine, many of which were negative, she felt she knew how to deal with the woman, and most importantly ... keep the Grand Moff safe. Instinctively she turned to two technicians, whom she motioned to carry away the corpse, and the head once it had ceased movement entirely with nonverbal cues. She would miss Captain Trainor, despite her antics, as they had served together now for a couple of years. But there was part of her that would be glad that she would no longer be subjected to inverted takeoffs and full speed landings.

"Inquisitor, I would kindly ask that you not summarily execute members of my crew," the Grand Moff informed her, harshly, as he looked to the mortal remains of the dear departed junior officer. He had enjoyed the relative calm of the past three months, free from both the meddling machinations of Major Zevrin and the fiendish activities of the Inquisitorius. It was a blessing, but now he discovered it was nothing more than a brief repose ... a vacation so to speak. He led out a frustrated sigh, as he once again raised his palm to his forehead, exposing his frustration in an uncharacteristic, unprofessional display for the gathered officers and crew. All he could think of was how right he had been in regards to Liliya, as the poor young girl had seen enough beheadings for one lifetime. "Fine. Take her. Just stop with the executions," he said, in a rare defeat, having neither the desire, nor the drive to argue with the woman. He wanted to get back to brooding over Jelena, even if it cost him a valuable officer, as standing here and now in front of them was proving to be quite difficult for him.

Serine narrowed her eyes at the Governor with distaste, believing him to be at this moment a misinformed and ignorant twit. "High Inquisitor." She corrected him sharply with aversion in her tone. Her duties here were not simply to assist in his likely to fail missions, but to seek out the obvious traitors he has within his midst that were humiliating and damaging to the Empire's cause in this sector. She had given the Grand Moff a chance the last time she was stationed here and he floundered catastrophically. Her priorities were different than before ... and she was determined to salvage every worthwhile individual from this ship before they too would go down in the flames of absolute and embarrassing self-destruction. She did not care what department she had to gut on this vessel, either figuratively or physically, but she was resolute in her own personal charge to cannibalize the Warspite until nothing but useless petty officer trash and malfunctioning droids remained. Of course ... this was personal, but she did not desire to make it all so obvious at first. "May I remind you Governor, that Captain Trainor was already assigned to me months ago, I am merely here claim her once again. And I see ... you have poorly managed her as expected." A slight motion to the filthy Randi was all the proof she needed to make her point, but it was a bit clear that the High Inquisitor and the Grand Moff both treated Randi like property. "As for my temporary stay, I will merely need access to my old lodgings."

"Aw, you guys. Don't fight over me. There's enough of me for everyone!" Randi interjected, gleefully, as she moved between the two arguing adults. "Just because I'm going to go fly for Serry doesn't mean I don't love you anymore, Governor," she said, looking up at him with her large blue eyes. "And and if she ever goes off for a month or six again I'll come right back and fly you some more. I promise!" she said, bringing both of her hands together in front of her, as she tried to look as sweet and innocent as she could. "Captain Anson's daughter ain't such a bad pilot. She's got what it takes. I wouldn't leave you in the hands of no one who couldn't fly. It just wouldn't be nice at all," she said, offering a firm nod of her head, which caused both of her pigtails to flail wildly up and down. And with that, she raised her arm and put it around Serine's shoulder, and drew her closer in against her, all the while smiling over at the Grand Moff.

"You really have no idea where you even are, do you, Captain?" Claudius said to her slowly, shaking his head, and deciding it best not to engage her further on the matter. "*High* Inquisitor, I sincerely doubt that there is anyone who can manage Captain Trainor. You are welcome to try," he said, motioning for Kerrie to process the transfer order. "As for your belongings ... space aboard a Star Destroyer is valuable. Your quarters were reassigned. Your items were placed in storage. I can have them brought to your ship if you wish," he informed her, taking a couple of steps back in the likely event that Randi would attempt to give him a hug goodbye. He needed to put some distance between them in order to deflect her to spare his uniform the same fate that had befallen the Inquisitor's robes.

Serine did not at all like the idea of someone else staying in her room, she was not officially discharged or reassigned to another vessel ... not until recently that is, so her room should not have been so quick to have a vacancy. The High Inquisitor had spent the last month on her newly appointed Interrogator Destroyer and yet had not once lost her temper ... because her crew were not all idiots. And yet, here she was now, her fury flaring every few minutes aboard the Warspite ... the ship and crew that was so mismanaged it disgusted her. Serine quickly brushed Randi from her, though not forcefully enough to severely hurt the pilot, however brutally enough to cause the poor woman to hit the wall hard. Those stained red robes were absolutely torn from her frame, uncovering that armorweave combat jumpsuit that she always wore no matter the occasion. Uselessly bunched up in a frayed ball, the once respectable and distinguished High Inquisitor robes were thrown harshly before she broke from the group, heading in an all too predictable pattern towards her once well used quarters. Before Claudius or even Kerrie could protest, Serine was already ascending in the turbolift, leaving them to wait for another. As she aggressively paced down the hallways, many patrons were shocked, standing in awe as they realized Serine had returned to the ship, most were smart enough to quickly remove themselves from her path. Other less fortunate onlookers found themselves colliding with durasteel.

What a dream it was to have such spacious quarters for a junior officer like Bethany Sheppard. The young helmswoman was in her quarters, which once belonged to none other than Inquisitor Thanor. It took quite a bit of work to rid them of the stench of nexu, but in the end she had made a rather nice home for herself. While the Inquisitor did not decorate, Bethany had gone all out, putting up posters of her favorite holovids and bands, along with TIE recruitment propaganda. All of the starfighter models she had made since childhood were carefully arranged on her shelves, exactly as she wanted them. On her desk was a care package that had finally made it's way too her from home. For some reason it seemed as if she had finally been getting them following the reassignment of Major Zevrin, as she was unaware that the woman was intercepting and devouring her baked goods. There was also the ornate nerf bank that she had since childhood, that was filled with credits she was saving for her next shore leave. She lay on her bunk, happily smiling up at the ceiling, as it seemed everything was finally starting to look up for her. Perhaps even a promotion was in her future.

While Serine had been living upon the Warspite, not a soul would dare travel the hallway that led to or away from her quarters unless they absolutely had to. After months following Serine's strange undocumented disappearance, officers, soldiers and the like were finally feeling comfortable walking along this hall which was a convenient shortcut to many of the ship's utilities. All of that likely would end today. Heavy gasps from patrons followed wherever Serine went, and her arrival most certainly spelled unfortunate circumstances for any in the vicinity. There was a mad scramble and disorganized shouts of surprise from others as Serine finally arrived in front of her old quarters. Immediately she moved to open the door, and when it was very clear the door was locked ... chaos ensued. There was an intense rumbling sound coming from outside the quarters that Bethany would not recognize. Suddenly there was a horrid screech of durasteel bending and snapping as the door was viciously ripped free from its hinges. Jagged, twisted and misshapen metal was all that remained as the door was hurled through the air to clang down the hallway. The speed of the shrapnel and the razor edges sliced through any and all that stood in its path. Ghastly screams of horror could be heard down the hallway as unsuspecting individuals were dismembered or impaled, leaving a blood soaked path in its wake. Serine stood livid in the grotesque hole she had made into her room as she glared with deadly intent inside until her eyes fell upon Bethany.

When the noise began, Bethany incorrectly assumed the Warspite had come under Rebel attack and was experiencing a hull breach. She immediately swung into action, rising from her supine position on her bed to begin to move to her duty station. It was only then that she saw the Inquisitor standing in what was once her doorway, and a look of absolute terror appeared upon the young woman's face. Although there was nowhere for her to run, her red blood cells seemingly escaped, as all of the color quickly retreated from her face. She began to shake violently, as she remembered all too well her last encounter with the Inquisitor, and this time she looked far more enraged. Although she was not aware of it, the crotch of her uniform quickly began to darken with moisture. The darkness slowly moved down the leg of her trousers until a yellow puddle began to pool between her legs. "I-I..." she stammered, not even aware of what she was trying to say, her lower lip quivering. She simply closed her eyes, bringing her hands in front of her face in a defensive position, as she awaited the unexpected horrors that were likely to follow.

The High Inquisitor stalked inside with her eyes fixated upon Bethany. Serine remembered their last encounter... but despite that, she did not have ill feelings towards the junior officer. There were only a handful of individuals Serine had any shred of respect for... and those were ones she wished to recruit. Fortunately for Bethany, she was one of those, anyone else may not have survived this encounter. Unfortunately for Bethany, nothing else in this room would survive this encounter. Her ire was not so easily contented. "Get. Out." Serine growled in a very low and dangerous tone to the other, and it was very apparent that the High Inquisitor was maintaining just enough self control to allow the other to leave... before havoc ensued.

"Yes Mistress Thanor," Bethany said, obediently, slowly opening her eyes to look at the one who had seemingly given her a reprieve. She sniffled noticeably, and then brought her arm up to wipe away the tears and the mucus that had formed upon her young face. She surged forward, her boot squeaking as she slipped upon her own urine, coming dangerously close to colliding with the Inquisitor, but with her adept piloting skill she was able to correct course and escape into the corridor without collision. Once in the hallway she was surrounded by Stormtroopers, officers, and crew members who had gathered once the alarm went off due to the catastrophic nature of the damage and the slain officers. Medics had arrived on scene to tend to the injured and to collect the remnants of the deceased. Several laughs began emanating as they pointed at her wet spots, humiliating the poor girl who had nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. "You better not go in there. She's freakin' pissed you guys!" she warned, as she moved away, cowering, but curiosity as to the state of her belongings kept her from moving too far away. The officers that were laughing at the young helmsman did not heed her warning and moved dangerously forward, wanting to see what exactly it was that made her piss herself.

The three officers that edged in closer to the disfigured door opening would instantly realize what a mistake they had made. All three recognized the individual inside and none of them realized Serine was on board... or failed to take appropriate precautions. As soon as their eyes met with the High Inquisitor's, a grave rumbling sound occurred throughout the room. Shortly after two of the three almost immediately found themselves being pulled inside by an incredible extortion they could not see. Horrid screams of agony were heard inside but the only person who was witness to the abomination occurring was the third officer. His face twisted into dread and panic as he stumbled backwards completely in dismay. In a frantic dash, he turned and bolted down the hallway only to be halted by the sound of a cracking whip that wrapped around his ankle and began dragging him inside with unnatural speed. He shrieked and clawed at the slick surface of the flooring, screaming in terror as he was pulled inside of the room despite clutching the broken sides of the doorframe until flesh tore off of his fingers and he disappeared inside. In a rush of movement, a massive explosion sent a substantial amount of debris, gore and Bethany's cherished belongings crashing through the battered door frame. The intense detonation crumbled the surrounding walls leaving a huge gaping hideous opening to the absolute demolition inside.

The sound and fury that unfolded before Bethany caused her eyes to light up with wonder and amazement. The trio of officers who only moments earlier had berated her were now being eviscerated by the loathsome Inquisitor. Although she could not see what was happening, she was certain she *knew* what was happening. The Inquisitor was surely pulling them apart with her bare hands and devouring their organs like a creature from some far off outer rim moon. When she saw her belongs trashed ... her precious model starfighters ... her heart sunk. Some of them she had since she was a little girl back in the Corporate Sector. "No..." she cried when she saw her Z-95 headhunter torn apart. Her father had helped her paint it when she was six. She had lost everything, but at least she had her life. The other crew, and even the medics, all fled in horror from the calamity, but she was unable to move, unable to resist seeing the carnage laid out in front of her.

Violence aboard an Imperial ship wasn't unheard of, but fatalities were incredibly rare. The one exception, of course, was when there was a Sith aboard. An automated alert system was in place to inform the Intel officer of certain events, this being one of them, and as soon as the call went out for a medical crew to the docking bay, Captain Serra Eona sat up in her chair and looked at the screen of the terminal in her room. The specifics of the situation had been enough to draw her out. Now, as she stood over the body, its head resting awkwardly by its neck from which it had been severed, Serra considered the implications of Serine's return. She took a deep inhale from the cigarra balanced between her lips. As the body was placed on a gurney for transport, a flick of ash fell across the burned scar tissue on its neck. "They aren't known for their good humor, the Sith. Particularly not this one." The lost life was far from anything Serra cared about, and it showed. Just another pilot. Replaceable. Her mind was on far more important things, all of them centered around this unexpected visitor. The ship which had come shouldn't have contained Serine, of course. The fact that it did told her plenty about what the Sith had been up to since her departure. In her brief time with Serine, Serra had wondered what it might be like to see her in a position of true authority and power, invested with the command of a significant amount of Imperial resources. It seemed she was going to find out much sooner than she expected.

After a few moments, all was silent in the hallway and room, interrupted only by a few twisted hunks of metal tearing away from the ceiling and landing with a resounding crash. Where there used to be a spacious private room, was now a three-walled dismantled hole that just so happened to be Serine's quarters now. The dust began to settle and inside was a truly disturbing scene. Strewed about were managed body parts and blood soaked linens, but sitting rather comfortably upon a ruined half broken chair was Serine Thanor, looking rather pleased and almost sentimental as she glanced about the ruined interior. This was her room... her hallway... and soon, choice picks of the crew would be hers as well.

The moment the Grand Moff gave her leave, Liliya had rushed to her room, shut the door and locked it in haste. She had spent a long while pacing back and forth in fret and anxiety, having what she could only assume was a human-like panic attack. This meager door could not protect her, she realized in fear, as High Inquisitor Tremayne could easily tear it apart... Eyes darted around for a decent hiding location, acting much more like a frightening animal than a proper elegant noble. She pulled up any stories that may be useful from her databanks, and the majority of children would hide under their beds in case of emergency. She kept her room immaculate, even under the bed, so there was no concern with dirtying her dress. Liliya found no shame in hiding there, since it was good enough for humans and soon she scooted under there easily with room to spare as her frame was delicate and small. She cowered under the bed for hours ... assuming there were massive amount of casualties ... how did it come to this? She did not know how much more trauma she could handle. "I'm just ... I'm just not programmed for this." She said softly in a sorrowful tone.

Far across the core in the Kuat system a solitary figure sat in darkness in the orbital shipyards that surrounded the planet like a ring of cosmic dust. She had spent months undergoing physical therapy, brooding in silence and isolation at the wrongs that had been inflicted upon her by so many. At first it was difficult to move even a toe or a finger, but now she had regained the use of her entire body, and to the great detriment of those she considered her enemies she was once again her old self. She had arranged for a suite to be prepared where she could get a view of the Executor-class Star Dreadnaught Retributor as it was constructed for Grand Moff Rodney. Retribution indeed, she had thought silently to herself over those many months. If there was anyone who was going to get retribution it was going to be *her*. As it grew in size and drew near completion she used it as inspiration to force her body against its limits to regain her strength more quickly than any doctor could have possibly imagined. And now it, like her, was nearly ready, and it was time to set her return to power in motion. The silence of her suite was broken by the sound of a repeated beeping at her terminal along with a single flashing red light. Without any urgency she gracefully rose from the bed, and swung her legs in front of her desk chair and sat in front of the screen. When she entered her access code a holovid began to appear in front of her, the reflection of which danced upon the delicate features of her face. She was witnessing Inquisitor Thanor's display of power and destruction upon the Warspite, provided to her by one of the many loyal informants who had not abandoned her during her banishment. "So the bitch is back..." Major Arden Zevrin said quietly, before turning off the display. She then intertwined the fingers of her hands as she considered this new development. She began to laugh hysterically as she spun around in the chair ... the fools were now all in the same place.

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