Chapter Fourteen
By the end of the fifth month of 12 ABY, N'Lola had what she needed for her long voyage: rather than taking a fleet, she would take one ship, the Republic's first-ever Venator-class star dreadnought. It would not be the only one ever built, but this one had been built for her, the Republic's way to express their gratitude for her many contributions as a deep-cover asset in the Empire for fourteen years. It looked almost indistinguishable from the Venator-class Star Destroyer on which it was based, but it had been scaled up dramatically to serve the role of a star dreadnought, instead. As it sailed down onto the landing pad of the Fortress of the Ven-Shimu on Bpfassh, N'Lola looked it over with pleasure: 7,959 metres in length and 3,836 metres in width, with a depth of 1,876 metres, she found it impressive and spectacular. The ship had massive hangars, and carried inside it a complement of two thousand four hundred starfighters in total, with Class 1.0 Main Hyperdrives and Class 1.2 Backup Hyperdrives. It boasted a cargo capacity of a hundred thousand tons and sufficient room for four years of consumables to sustain a full crew, painted blue and white where a Venator-class star destroyer would have been maroon and greyish-beige, with the name 'Explorer.'
The ship had shielding comparable to an Executor-class star dreadnought, though with a dramatically smaller size in terms of physical magnitude. The ship was also extraordinarily heavily armed, with one hundred heavy proton torpedo launchers and two hundred dual emplacement heavy turbolaser cannons. The Explorer boasted four hundred quadruple turbolaser positions to protect the ship against starfighter attacks, in addition to the weapons that would let it engage both heavily-armoured warships and if necessary, planetary defense emplacements. It called for a total crew of two thousand to be optimally operational, with enough sickbays to accommodate four times that many at any time, and had accommodations for sixty-five thousand eight hundred permanent residents aboard-ship. Given the presence of two thousand four hundred starfighters, half of which the heavy assault variant of the ARC-170 and half the heavy assault variant of the Cutlass-9, many of those rooms would be occupied by fighter crews and each fighter's associated flight crews.
Albeit the same size as other ARC-170's, the heavy assault variant removed the need for a droid, and replaced all weapons from the normal variant with heavier versions. Outfitted with two forward-mounted dual heavy turbolaser cannons and two rear-mounted dual heavy turbolaser cannons with a wide rotation angle, it carried the same payload of six proton torpedoes found in every ARC-170. Similarly, the Cutlass-9's heavy assault variant replaced two regular laser cannons with two dual emplacement heavy turbolaser cannons, and allowed for the starfighter to carry an optimal payload of four proton torpedoes for engagement of heavily armoured enemies. Now all that was left for N'Lola to do was to return to her quarters and prepare for departure, setting aside the comfortable, civilian garments she had worn for the last few years of peaceful meditation and maintaining a regimen of intense combat practice. Fortunately, that would only entail a quick change of attire, as all was in readiness, since she had been preparing for this day for months.
She paused, looking at the wall where her past was memorialized. Her black raiment hung proudly from plain wooden knobs, while metal hooks cradled the hilt of her original, red-bladed lightsaber. Meanwhile, other metal hooks cradled her original blaster carbine and blaster pistols, her original long-handled lightsaber and her twin tonfa-style lightsabers, with their dark gleam. An era of stealth in her life, a time when she survived through infiltration into her enemies' hierarchy and dreamt of days like these, when she would no longer need to hide her true nature. In preparation for her departure, N'Lola showered one last time in her personal bedchamber, and then dressed for the voyage into an uncharted part of the galaxy. Knee-high stockings and lingerie of white cotton were followed by flexible, formfitting cotton of a silver-white colouration that took the form of a half-sleeved shirt and pants whose leggings went down to her upper calves. Her ensemble culminated in white leather and electrum: a leather belt and soft leather boots of knee-height with electrum buckles, and a double-breasted jacket having decorative buttons and a functional, diagonal zipper made of electrum. The jacket itself was skirted, long enough to reach her lower hips, with a pistol holster on each hip in place of a pocket, sheaths over each shoulder for her tonfa-style lightsabers, and a horizontal carbine holster across the lower back.
Now fully clothed, N'Lola turned her attention toward collecting her new set of weapons, the ones she meant to carry for the remainder of her life. Forged of white beskar and electrum-accented, she had invested a Force-imbued, dark violet crystal in each of her Heavy Assault-variant WESTAR-35 blaster pistols and in the 9118 blaster carbine. A similar crystal sat in each of her new tonfa-style lightsabers and in her long-handled lightsaber, which were identical in dimension to the previous ones but like her new guns, forged of white beskar and accented with electrum. Smoothly, she holstered the carbine across her back, the pistols at her hips and the tonfa-style lightsabers over each shoulder. As N'Lola lifted the twenty-inch grip of the long-handled lightsaber, she took a moment to look at herself in the mirror, going down her mental checklist to make sure she had all she would need. She activated her long-handled lightsaber, the dark violet blade humming forth and complimenting her white-and-gold attire, and she smiled as her eyes focused on the shimmering blade before deactivating it. She proceeded immediately to the hangar, boarding her personal battle shuttle, the Mandalorian Aka'jor class she had acquired years ago and kept maintained and up-to-date for this reason. Soon enough, her shuttle flew into the hangar bay of her new ship, sweeping in until she landed in one far corner that was not already occupied with any of the hundreds of starfighters.
Her crew had already loaded, sixty-two thousand eight hundred Ven-Shimu personnel, though three thousand rooms remained vacant. She couldn't take everyone the Ven-Shimu had to offer, or somewhere, one of the Fortresses of the Ven-Shimu would have been negatively affected by falling below her desired minimum level of residency. Each fortress sprawled across fifty thousand acres, the amount of land she had inherited with the death of her entire family, more than twenty years prior. She was setting out on her expedition with each Fortress occupied by a thousand Force-sensitive soldiers and forty-nine thousand Force-insensitive soldiers, not including the several thousand recruits that each one was now training. Her ship itself housed sixteen thousand one hundred twenty-six humans, fourteen thousand eight hundred Bpfasshi, ten thousand Barabel, ten thousand Chistori, and ten thousand Annoo-dat Primes, most of this number security personnel. Additionally, there were nine hundred eighty-eight Iktotchi Force Healers, eight hundred Leyakian gunners, thirty-six Twi'leks, two dozen Jilruans, two dozen Zabraks, and her Epicanthix mentors, Nuav and Xuax. Among the Twi'leks was her longtime friend Aerlas'enuia, whom she had recently promoted to commander, and who had insisted on resuming her role as the youthful Admiral's chief communications officer.
"All set, Admiral?" queried Aerla, as N'Lola finally reached the bridge and took a seat in the admiral's chair.
"Yes," she replied simply, and her helmsman, the Jilruan assassin Tenat Noore, nodded immediately in reply.
"Activating engines, retracting landing gear," Tenat said.
"Take us up, Tenat," she replied, and Tenat nodded, guiding the comparatively small star dreadnought up out of the atmosphere of Bpfassh and into the vacuum of space within a few short minutes. As they left the atmosphere, a familiar chime sounded, and Aerla chuckled and shook her head.
"It didn't take long for our arrival in space to be noticed, Admiral. Receiving a long-range hail from Admiral Tavares," Aerla reported.
"On-screen, Aerla," she instructed, and the Twi'lek nodded. Immediately, Dellus' features appeared before them, with a handsome smile. He had aged quite well, his true-black hair yet to show any traces of greying, his eyes as bright and warm as ever, and though he was nearing his mid-thirties, he still looked like he was in his mid-twenties. His family may have disowned him for his union with an Iridonian Zabrak, but the people who mattered to him hadn't, and he had discovered he much preferred the family he'd made to the family into which he'd been born.
"Admiral Vurkoth, you are looking as hale and vibrant as ever. The Senate asked me to inform you that your petition will be heard in two days on Coruscant, in consideration of your many years of service already rendered," the handsome, aristocratic admiral informed, "On a more personal note, Taylen and I would like to thank you for attending our wedding. It meant a great deal to both of us, and he was delighted to meet you."
"I was honoured to be invited, Dellus. I was quite pleased when the Senate passed the law that permitted such marriages throughout all Republic territories; it may be what convinced my homeworld to become a part of the New Republic, we take such freedoms very seriously," she said in answer, "I will arrive at Coruscant on time to address as scheduled. I am glad they are willing to hear my request."
"A decorated Admiral of the Galactic Civil War and a deep-cover asset for fourteen years including several years of her childhood?" said Dellus in response, "I would have filed a protest if they weren't readily willing to hear whatever request you might have for them. You've certainly earned it."
"Thank you, Dellus. You are welcome to attend the hearing, if you would like."
"I will see you there, then, my Lady," replied Dellus with a smile, "I do not know how long your expedition is likely to be, but I have something I would like to give you so that we may remain in communication no matter where you might find yourself in the years to come." She nodded in answer; she would add it to her Black Sun communicator, and the Ven-Shimu communicator, which would allow her to continue to fulfill her obligations as a part of the Ven-Shimu Command Council.
"I will gladly take it with me," she replied, "Farewell, Admiral. I will see you in the Coruscant Senate Hall."
When she arrived on Coruscant, she piloted her Aka'jor fighter-shuttle to the landing pad nearest to the Senate and disembarked, leaving it in the care of the droids tasked with such duties. She proceeded immediately to the hall, accepting the communicator that Dellus had brought for her as she reached him, slipping it into a pocket on the interior of her leather jacket. A few minutes later, she was signalled to enter the Senate Hall, wherein the full Senate had been gathered, though absent of Leia Organa Solo, who had left recently on other business. The business of legislation and governance, however, went on, and the Senate continued to tend to their responsibilities to the people of their various worlds of origin.
"Lady N'Lola Vurkoth," said one man, standing in the centre of the platform in the centre of the room, which soon rose more than two hundred feet into the air, and around which six hundred forty-seven senators were seated in a sphere. His words were equal parts greeting and heraldic announcement for the benefit of those who did not recognize her on sight, but who evidently recognized her name. It was nice to be recognized, and it certainly meant that her intended petition would be a bit easier if people knew who she was, if only by a reputation that had preceded her.
"First, allow me to say, I believe on behalf of everyone here," began the Human stateswoman, the nameplate of her seat indicating her to be Ala Cornin, representative of Galerian, "thank you for your twenty plus years of service thus far rendered to the New Republic. We should particularly like to acknowledge the fact that well above half that period was spent in deep-cover, embedded within the highest echelon of the Imperial Navy. We are all well aware, I think, of the instrumentality of the intel that you provided during the war." The woman looked to be nearing the age of fifty years, with greying black hair in an elbow-length braid and green-hazel irises, set into a dark brown skin tone. The woman was of an impressive stature, standing six feet tall and two hundred pounds of toned, athletic physique, which suggested to N'Lola that she was by no means some wilting wallflower politician. She was dressed in a cornsilk-yellow silk shirt with a leather greatcoat of otter brown and matching breeches, accented by a black leather belt and a pair of ankle-high boots of the same, both having a nickel-plated buckle.
"Similarly," said Senator Fyg Boras, a Vor who was representative of the planet Vortex, "we would like also to thank you for bringing your homeworld into the New Republic, as well as the planets Chistor, Bpfassh, and Leyakia. You have done the Republic a great service in bringing more worlds into our union, strengthening the voice of those who dwell there, indeed, strengthening the voice of us all." Fyg Boras was an iconic member of his species: six feet six and three-quarter inches in height with a wingspan of nine feet six and one-tenth inches, his skin was soft, hairless, and of a rubbery suppleness. His complexion was a rich, earthy shade of green speckles with white and grey spots that could have easily been missed from too great a distance, with solid black eyes.
"However," interjected another human, a man of some sixty-four years with whitening grey hair of ear-length alongside deep brown eyes and light complexion, "We should like to know more about this… Ven-Shimu Order, you call it, if you would not mind sharing information about the Republic's newest military arm." The man stood about five feet nine inches in height and one hundred sixty-five pounds of lean muscle; according to his nameplate, he was Molierre Cundertol, of Bakura.
"The Ven-Shimu Order is not the Jedi Order, Senator Cundertol. The Ven-Shimu Order is not beholden to the Republic, nor are the soldiers of the Ven-Shimu Order answerable to the Republic: the Ven-Shimu Order is an ally of the Republic, but outside the Republic's military order. Ours are the soldiers of the Light, who have dedicated themselves to the protection of those who are unable to protect themselves, to safeguard equality and fairness, freedom and justice, for all who would seek our assistance. For so long as the Republic remains dedicated to these same ideologies, the Republic may count on the military aid of the Ven-Shimu Order for as long as the Ven-Shimu Order exists. We are allies of the Republic and friends to the Jedi, but our path is not the path of the Jedi, and our path is not the path of the Republic's military. However, this is not the topic I came to discuss today, and it is irrelevant to the petition I would make, as a citizen of the New Republic and as one who fought to overturn the tyrannical oppression of Palpatine's Empire." As Cundertol started to reply, however, the Vor Senator reclaimed his control over the floor and redirected it to the matter she had come to address.
"Yes, I believe that your petition indicated a concern regarding the… Gholondreine, I believe it was?"
"Yes, Senator Boras, that is correct. When Palpatine issued the Galactic Empire's New Order, the people of the Gholondreine civilization resisted implementation of such an order, and were the first of the Galactic Republic's brethren to suffer terrible mistreatment under the regime. Palpatine ordered the planet stripped of water, transforming it from an ocean planet to a desert world and making vagrant and destitute an entire species. The New Republic, now, has the opportunity to set right that wrong, to replenish the planet of Gholondreine-ß, and to reinstate the Gholondreine to their native homeworld."
"It is not a world of Humans," Senator Cundertol observed, "Why should it be humankind's problem?"
"The Republic is comprised of more than simply Humans, Senator Cundertol," reminded Senator Cornin.
"More to the point," N'Lola continued, "It is incumbent upon the Republic to take seriously the responsibility to replenish a world and a civilization that suffered greatly for its commitment to the Republic's earlier incarnation."
"I would hate to think the New Republic should take the tone of failure to reward loyalty, Senator Cundertol," added Senator Cornin, "Surely if Bakura had suffered under the Empire's oppressive regime in some manner that was particularly devastating and severe, you would want Bakura restored."
"Of course, but I would not ask for help of the Gholondreine, or the Barabel, or the Gran, in such a task," the Bakuran Senator answered obstinately.
"I am sure that the people of Alderaan would have welcomed the assistance of the Gholondreine, the Barabel, and the Gran, all, if it would have saved their homeworld from the Emperor's weapon," replied Senator Cornin firmly, "Your tone and your words are unpleasantly reminiscent of the rhetoric we heard from Palpatine during the height of his Empire. I think we have heard enough to make a decision on the matter of replenishing the planet of Gholondreine-ß and restoring it to its' indigenous inhabitants. I move that the matter be put to immediate vote."
"Motion seconded," added Senator Fyg Boras, as a few additional Senators rose their hands to signal assent that would overpower any protest from the Bakuran Senator. It was, within moments, a motion passed and agreed that aid should be rendered and a freight fleet assembled the objections of Molierre Cundertol notwithstanding.
"Now, to the matter of your planned expedition into the Unknown Regions," proceeded Senator Fyg Boras, "I would like, and I believe I am not alone in this sentiment, some manner in which the Republic could maintain some level of contact with the leader of our newest military ally." His words were meant with many assenting nods from all around the room, perhaps not more than one in four, but still a significant number.
"Of course, and a few such methods will be provided, for the security that such redundancies provide, though I do have my own security concerns, as well."
"I am sure that there is no element of your security concerns with which either the Republic or any reasonable representative therein, would have quandary. I am gratified to hear that you have some measures planned to allow for continued communication between the Republic and the Ven-Shimu Order's leadership," Senator Boras replied, "If I may ask of you, some elaboration would be greatly appreciated."
"The Commandant of each Fortress of the Ven-Shimu Order in known space will have a communicator that permits communication with me. Additionally, the Ven-Shimu Command Council will retain similar communicators to ensure myself and both councilmembers accompanying me on this expedition, can be reached and included in any decisions requiring the Council's attention," N'Lola replied informatively, "Moreover, Admiral Tavares of the Republic's Navy has provided me with a communicator which will permit me to remain in contact with him. If the Galactic Assembly should have some trouble reaching out for counsel, the Admiral would no doubt be quite pleased to serve as temporary connection between us to allow messages to be delivered in either direction. Lastly, I plan to request a Jedi Ambassador to take residence aboard my vessel for the duration of the expedition; I am certain the Jedi will have their own means to remain in contact with any Ambassador they grant, should the request be granted." Even the most skeptical members of the Senate, Molierre Cundertol notwithstanding, were mollified by the presence of at least eight avenues that they would have to contact her, one of which in the Republic's Admiralty and another a Jedi.
"Your commitment to remaining reachable to the Galactic Senate is admirable and appreciated. The Republic wishes you the best of fortunes in your expedition, whatever it is you are looking for," said Senator Cornin in response, preempting Senator Cundertol's attempt to make some manner of response. From her expression at that moment, the stateswoman from Galeria looked certain Cundertol's intended response would be boorish and ill-mannered at best.
"Speaking thus," Senator Cundertol interjected, never one to be usurped or disrupted, "I would like to state for the record that I must regard your expedition with suspicion. Your refusal to inform us of the excursion's purpose, or share with us the stellar cartography that your expedition will doubtless produce, strikes me as a matter of a shady and questionable motivation." One eyebrow rose in answer, though one of the Senator's colleagues opted to respond to Molierre's antagonism toward her, his attitude one to which the newly vocal statesman seemed quite opposed.
"Senator Cundertol, the Lady has already clearly stated that the Ven-Shimu Order is not answerable to the Republic, as they are to be our allies but outside of our own military command structure. I see no reason that the Lady should be impressed upon to reveal the secrets of the Ven-Shimu Order," antipathized the man, whose nameplate indicated him as being Senator Chelch Dravvad, representing Corellia, "we do not even require such subservience from the Jedi Order. The Jedi Order has a far more extensive history of being more directly in the service of the Republic, and we do not attempt to preclude them having their own secrets. For my part, I am satisfied by her commitment to enhancing the Republic's security, in consideration of her decorated record of contribution in the war against Palpatine's autocratic Empire." A man of six feet in height and two hundred fourteen pounds, Senator Dravvad was an impressive figure, and at roughly forty-six years of age with stark black hair and an olive complexion, he had a youthful appearance. Dark green irises, full of fire and passion, remained firmly focused on Senator Cundertol across the breadth between them, with the two seats being about one hundred and forty-eight degrees apart, with Chelch's seat four rows nearer to the centre.
At that moment, the Calibop Senator, marked by his nameplate as Ponc Gavrisom of Calib, rose to his feet, pale golden-yellow feathers shifting as he did. Dressed in a sleeveless black leather vest and a dark brown cotton shirt, with pants of matching dark brown cotton with a black leather belt, he stood six feet one and a quarter inches in height and one hundred eighty-five pounds. Her personal experience with his species was insufficient for her to estimate his age, but she concluded from his presence that he was what his people considered at least decently well into adulthood.
"I move that this conversation be closed, as no good can come of such arguments. The Lady of the Ven-Shimu Order can neither be impressed upon nor commanded to share the secrets of her Order, and neither should she be. It may be the opinion of some here that it is regrettable we will not have all information we might possibly desire, but I believe it is fair and just for her to maintain whatever level of secrecy she deems necessary to protect her people from harm," said Senator Gavrisom.
"Motion seconded," supplied Senators Cornin and Dravvad, in near-unison.
"Motion has passed. The Lady of the Ven-Shimu Order is excused, with the Senate's appreciation for her forthcoming providence of answers and the respect of the Vors for her compassionate petition on behalf of the Gholondreine," said Senator Boras, moving quickly to switch to the next topic.
"Thank you, as well, Senators," N'Lola replied, turning toward the door and leaping off the podium even as it started toward the ground, soliciting a faint widening of the eyes of all who were present. For a distance of well over one hundred feet, she swept gracefully downward, only to land as lightly as if she had simply stepped off a two-foot-tall metal box. Then, she strode smoothly out of the chamber, allowing the Senate to return to their business after their period of staring at her exit had concluded. As she stepped out, she was immediately approached by a massive Whiphid Jedi, who stood all of eight feet six and a third inches in height and three hundred fifteen pounds in weight. Covered in hair of well-maintained grey-white, much longer on his scalp than the rest of his body, he looked down his muzzle toward her, dressed in a sleeveless shirt and ankle-length breeches of zinnwaldite-brown wool. He carried a lightsaber at one hip, and had an impressive physique overall, though the Force in him was as tranquil as any she had sensed in her lifetime thus far.
"I am K'Kruhk, a member of the High Council of the New Jedi Order; I heard that you would like a Jedi to accompany you on your expedition, and I have questions to your needs in such a regard. The Order is quite agreeable to such a request, though we must obviously have clearer information from you on the matter," said the Whiphid Jedi, introducing himself before getting to the point promptly.
"As a friend of the Jedi Order, I wish to include the Order in the expedition, and wish also for the Jedi Order to benefit from this excursion. My only precondition is continuance of secrecy and the maintenance of clandestineness in this matter," she replied, "not only as it relates to our precise location at any given moment, but also as it applies to the maps we develop on the path. Continuous contact between this person and the Jedi High Council is important, but through a medium that ensures the signal cannot be tracked at any point along the course of the transmission."
"I see," he replied, his deep voice thoughtful, "You show much wisdom for your youth, young one. The Jedi suffered greatly for a certain lack of secrecy, for the fact that it was known where to locate our every bastion and how. It is good that you intend to not only learn from our mistake and see that it does not happen to your order, but also to ensure that we learn from our own mistake, and perhaps, can avoid the risk of it occurring at some point in the future." Here he paused, thoughtful in his countenance as he looked to one side, while waiting for several persons to pass who were walking in the corridor, silencing their conversation to prevent stoolpigeons from eavesdropping. Once he was certain of their privacy having been restored, he nodded as if he had finished contemplating the answer to some deep philosophical inquiry that she might have made.
"I think that we should assign to your vessel Master Waldo Mellison, he is the finest of the Jedi Ambassadors currently in the Order and having earned his title. He will be accompanied by his padawan, of course, a fellow human named Norman Maenner, a dedicated young man who shows much potential and strength in the Force," said K'Kruhk, as he continued, "They will serve our common goals well, I believe." At this, N'Lola nodded and offered a smile for the impressive Whiphid, whom she could sense had survived far more challenges than she had yet imagined facing.
"I shall look forward to meeting them, Master K'Kruhk," she replied respectfully, and his long mouth curled in the faint hint of a smile.
"I shall speak well of our meeting, myself, Lady Vurkoth," he replied with mutual respect. Her contributions were not lost on him, and nor was the potency of the Light Side of the Force that he could sense residing inside of her.
"You have a strong spirit and a good heart," he continued, "It is excellent to find such integrity in combination with cleverness and wisdom. Wisdom and cleverness can become foul and wicked when not tempered by compassion and commitment to the wellness of more than just oneself. You do not walk the path of the Jedi, but your Light is not easily missed." At that, he bowed his head and N'Lola reciprocated the motion, following which he turned and walked away as simply as that. Similarly, N'Lola turned and walked in the opposite direction, until she returned to her shuttle and thereafter her ship, where she took the time to meditate while awaiting the arrival of the Jedi shuttle.
On their approach, N'Lola moved to the hangar to await their arrival, lifting one eyebrow as the Jedi's DPx Explorer-class swept smoothly up into the hangar bay and landed. Twelve metres wide and four metres from the front to the back, it was a diminutive vessel, armed with two blaster cannons, which would've been about the equivalent of a trooper's heavy blaster rifle. In the right hands, it could probably have held its' own against other starfighters, but it would never do much damage to something like a frigate or a corvette. As she waited, two human figures walked first down the ramp at the back of the shuttle and then around to meet her, one an adult and the other several years from it.
The adult was a man with a rich olive complexion and chin-length hair of true-black colour accented by irises of greenish-blue. He was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt of almond-coloured cotton with a pair of comfort-fitting pants similar fabric in a chamoisee colour that was matched by a hooded cotton cloak. His pants were of ankle-length while the cloak was calf-length, and his ensemble was rounded out by a zinnwaldite brown leather belt and ankle-high boots, each having burnished nickel buckles. On one hip, underneath the cloak, he wore a deactivated lightsaber hilt, which made his status as a member of the Jedi Order even more obvious than his outfit already had. Standing five feet nine inches tall and what she assumed from his build to be roughly one hundred sixty pounds, he was a man that was likely around thirty-nine years old. His padawan, by comparison, looked to be about twelve years old and stood around four feet ten inches and probably around one hundred pounds of healthy, well-toned youth. The young man was attired in a manner identical to his Master's, but where his Master was armed with a lightsaber, the padawan himself was clearly not yet ready for that part of his training.
"Master Waldo Mellison," she greeted with a courteous bow of her head, "a pleasure to meet you, and your padawan." He bowed his head in response, and belatedly, his padawan mirrored the movement, bowing with perhaps a little more flair and expressiveness than his Master had. He quickly straightened, as his Master cleared his throat, to resume standing erect and waiting patiently for his Master to indicate what was to come next.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, Admiral N'Lola Vurkoth; your reputation precedes you, and I look forward to the wonders of this voyage. I feel as if I shall have abundant time to meditate and train my padawan," the Jedi Ambassador replied with polite warmth, "I hope you will not mind our questions, though, with regards to the Ven-Shimu Order. The Order is quite curious to know more about our newest allies."
"Quite understandably," N'Lola replied, "And I will…" Abruptly, she was cut off by a transmission coming from the bridge, and Aerla's voice cut in.
"Admiral Vurkoth, we are receiving a distress signal," a long pause during which N'Lola remained patiently waiting, "from the planet Sarkhai. They inform us they are under assault and require immediate military intervention."
"Apologies, Ambassador Mellison, Padawan Maenner, I am needed on the bridge. Lieutenant, please escort our friends to their chambers, and if they should have any special requirements regarding those quarters, see that those needs are accommodated," she said, turning to instruct one of her officers. Then, she turned back toward the Jedi and his padawan, bowing her head as a sign of respect before she concluded her current conversation with them.
"If you will excuse me, Master Mellison," she said, and he nodded immediately.
"Of course, Admiral, we may continue our conversation at a more convenient interval," he answered. N'Lola nodded and turned, walking swiftly out of the hangar bay and ascending to the ship's bridge. As N'Lola took her seat in the admiral's chair, Aerla launched immediately into a more informative explanation of the situation on Sarkhai.
"King Savar sends word that his throne is threatened by a Sith Lord calling himself Darth Radox. Radox has managed to infiltrate the planet's defense matrix through subterfuge, aligning himself with a splinter-sect choosing to align themselves with the Imperial Remnant. He has requested the aid of the Ven-Shimu Order in the elimination of this threat, and has promised a considerable reward should the mission meet with success. He has transmitted the planet's precise location in I-15, one of the freestanding subsectors, near the grid border between I-15 and H-15," Aerla explained. At the explanation, N'Lola nodded and then turned her attention toward her Jilruan helmsman-assassin, who was waiting patiently for her instructions. He knew what her orders were going to be, but as was the case with many assassins, he was patient enough to wait for instruction.
"Helm, set a course for the planet Sarkhai, optimal velocity," she instructed, and Tenat Noore nodded at once. A few short seconds later, the hyperdrive engines activated and the ship leapt into hyperspace, sweeping toward their newest destination, where the planet's royal family was imperiled and in search of aid. A Sith Lord was no small threat and as infrequently as the Sarkhai themselves exhibited Force sensitivity, it was nothing they knew how to deal with.