A tremor in the Force shook Sa’ato from his meditation with the potency of a small earthquake. Something, or someone was coming. The premonition of disturbance took on the metal, raspy tone of a bell, like the alarms of old. An entity was approaching, and its intentions were far from civil. By the time the Neti reached one of the technical hubs, those uninitiated in the energies of the cosmos had already reached a similar conclusion. All across Sith Space, listening posts were abuzz with panicked enthusiasm as innumerous signals slowly slid onto their scanners like the many tendrils of a dianoga.
Sa’ato quickly made his way toward the nearest lift, stopping just beyond the doorway of the command center to listen in on the panicked fleet staff. It had been some time since the Empire’s chosen emissary had come to call on their Sith neighbors. Now, their conspicuous lack of communication prior to so large a fleet movement could mean but one thing. A new war- a new front, was about to blaze to life. Still, though nerves ran high, the senior staff, to the retired teacher’s trained eye, did not seem particularly fazed. The earlier loss of Roche, though rich in resources, meant a return in fleet strength three-fold.
Similarly, while the Warhound Command remained on patrol in the Thanium Sector, the lion’s share of the Sith armada remained firmly entrenched in the Reach. Indeed, over this same strategic concern, the admirals had been keen not to overextend their battlecruisers. Now, an atypical display of Sith prudence was about to pay off. Instead, a different matter caused an air of unease in the room: leadership. The Lord of the Sith was away on one of his various expeditions, and High Admiral Lidmor, the unofficial hegemon, of the starfleet had attended him. Ultimately, the unattuned would have to rely on the guidance of the Sith High Priest, and the flock of acolytes that were not currently on assignment.
For his part, Sa’ato elected to silently commit himself to the defense of Yavin proper. Two prongs would be deployed to the Feswa Corridor, and the Neti meant to attend one of them, if for no other reason than to offer some flimsy boost to morale. To the fanatics, Yavin IV was sacred ground, and it was not to be tread upon lightly. For the professor however, the jungle moon was an invaluable archive of Dark Side knowledge, history, and countless hidden catacombs just waiting for discovery. If the Empire managed to gain ground in the north, it was of no personal consequence to the academic.
But with all his might in the Force, Sa’ato would not allow flaccid Imperials to deprive him of his precious research material. So it was that the Neti wound his way up an antiquated staircase to where Kita had found temporary lodging, near the upper echelon of the temple, a hallway or two down from the absent Darth’s place of residence. “Sylvanius”, the professor growled with impatience, his wooden hand rapping on an equally sturdy door, “An assault is imminent, the fleet will soon be scrambled. We must make for the hangar immediately”. Yes, time was of the essence. Hopefully, the young woman would not prove too preoccupied in the face of the looming attack.
