The morning air on Kal'Sarha was thick with tension as Cassandra and her detachment prepared for the day ahead. The capital city, with its gleaming spires and festering underbelly, lay beneath them like a dormant beast ready to awaken in violence. They had come to restore order, and order they would impose.

  The senator’s villa stood high above the rest of the city, a fortress of decadence and privilege. But Cassandra felt no comfort within its walls. Even in the lavish chamber where she had spent the night, there was an unease in the air, a sharp edge that grated against her senses. She knew this mission would be far more than just a show of strength. Something darker lingered on this planet—something that had yet to reveal itself fully.

  Na’la, ever dutiful, stood by the entrance to Cassandra’s quarters, silently waiting for her master to rise. She had spent the previous night combing through intelligence reports and local data, piecing together a picture of the insurgency. Everything pointed to well-organized cells, equipped with enough weaponry and resolve to pose a real threat. It was clear that the senator had no control over the lower levels of the city. If Cassandra hadn’t been sent, Yama'ii’s rule would have been over in days.

  But there was something else that bothered Na'la. The reports had been incomplete, vague. There were no mentions of any known Rebel leadership, no sign of Jedi involvement, even though the report given to her by the Emperor had stated such. Yet, Na’la couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been deliberately omitted. The way the senator had spoken the night before—the anxious flicker in her eyes—suggested she was hiding something, something dangerous.

  Cassandra emerged from her quarters in silence, her cloak trailing behind her as she moved with that same deliberate grace. Her expression was hard, unreadable, though Na'la had learned to pick up on the smallest cues over the years—the tightness in her lips, the faint narrowing of her eyes. Cassandra had not slept well, but she would never admit as much.

  “My Lady,” Na'la greeted her, dipping her head in a gesture of respect. “The city is restless. We've received intelligence that several insurgent cells are preparing for action. They're likely aware of our presence.”

  “Good,” Cassandra said flatly, brushing past Na'la as they made their way down the marble halls. “Let them prepare. Their efforts will be crushed before they can begin.”

  They descended from the senator's villa into the lower levels of the city, escorted by a squad of elite stormtroopers. The capital had once been a thriving hub of trade and culture, but now its lower levels were a tangle of narrow streets and crumbling buildings. The wealthy elites kept themselves separated in their lofty towers, while the common citizens, struggling under the weight of Imperial rule, simmered in discontent.

  Cassandra could feel the fear and resentment in the air. These people were on the edge of rebellion, but they were no match for the Empire’s might. The insurgents would soon learn that lesson firsthand.

  As they approached one of the more crowded districts, Na'la fell into step beside Cassandra. She glanced around cautiously, her lekku twitching in anticipation. "The senator was vague in her reports, my Lady," she murmured, her voice low enough that only Cassandra could hear. "Something feels... off."

  Cassandra’s eyes remained fixed ahead. "You don’t trust her?"

  "I don’t trust any politician," Na’la admitted, her voice tinged with bitterness. "But Senator Yama'ii in particular…she’s hiding something. The insurgents are well-organized, but there’s no clear leadership. And if the Rebellion has reached them, they’re keeping their involvement quiet."

  Cassandra’s lip curled in distaste. "The senator’s secrets won’t save her from the Emperor’s wrath if this mission fails."

  They continued through the streets, weaving between market stalls and groups of civilians who scattered at the sight of the stormtroopers. It was a stark contrast to the luxury of the upper levels—here, the buildings were grimy and worn, the air filled with the sounds of labor and discontent. Graffiti marked the walls in several places, anti-Imperial slogans scrawled hastily in red and black paint. The city was a powder keg, waiting for a spark.

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  Eventually, they arrived at a reserved spot—an old plaza now deserted except for a handful of troopers securing the perimeter. It had once been a gathering place for traders and artisans, but now it was just another symbol of decay.

  Cassandra paused, closing her eyes as she reached out through the Force, feeling the currents of life and tension swirling around her. The Dark Side whispered in the back of her mind, urging her forward, filling her with cold clarity.

  Na’la watched her Lady, silently observing the stillness that had settled over Cassandra as she meditated. The tension in the air felt thicker now, almost unbearable. Cassandra’s presence always had that effect—a force of dominance that made even the most confident feel small.

  As Cassandra’s mind drifted deeper into the Force, she was pulled into a vision.

  Again, the girl.

  Her hair was white, stark against the backdrop of swirling darkness. Her skin was brown, glowing faintly as if lit from within, and her eyes… pure white, like twin orbs of light. She stood in a void, surrounded by nothing, but her presence was powerful. There was something about her—something that called to Cassandra, something she couldn’t quite grasp.

  Cassandra’s heart raced, the image of the girl growing more intense, sharper this time. The girl raised her hand, reaching out as if beckoning Cassandra to come closer. Her lips moved, but no sound emerged, only a faint whisper that echoed in Cassandra’s mind.

  Then, as quickly as it had come, the vision shifted. The girl’s image dissolved into a blur of shadows and mist, slipping away before Cassandra could reach her.

  Cassandra gasped, her eyes snapping open as the world came rushing back. The plaza was still, the troopers standing guard, Na’la watching with quiet concern. But the vision lingered in Cassandra’s mind, like a distant echo she couldn’t shake.

  “My Lady?” Na’la asked, stepping forward. “What is it?”

  Cassandra’s jaw tightened. She hated how the vision had unsettled her, how this girl—this stranger—had invaded her thoughts, her mind. "It’s nothing," she said curtly, though her voice betrayed her unease.

  Na’la frowned, but she didn’t press further. She knew better than to question her Lady in moments like this.

  Before either of them could speak again, a sharp crack echoed through the plaza, followed by the unmistakable sound of blaster fire. The insurgents had made their move.

  "Ambush!" Kaldana’s voice rang out over the comms, just as the first shots hit the stormtrooper squadron.

  Cassandra’s lightsaber ignited in an instant, the crimson red blade humming as she moved with terrifying precision. She deflected the incoming blaster bolts with ease, her movements swift and brutal. In a blur, she charged forward, cutting down the first wave of insurgents without hesitation.

  Na'la ducked behind cover, her hand instinctively going to the blaster at her side. She fired into the chaos, her aim sharp and deliberate,one dead, then two, then three, but the insurgents were relentless. They swarmed from all sides, their attack well-coordinated, far more organized than any simple planetary rebellion should have been. It was as if someone had given them a plan beforehand.

  Cassandra was already in the thick of the fight, her lightsaber a red streak as she tore through the insurgents. Her rage fueled her, every strike precise and lethal. But as the battle raged on, the vision of the girl haunted her, tugging at the edges of her mind, a distraction she couldn’t afford.

  For a brief moment, her focus faltered. Another vision—this time the girl’s face was closer, her expression unreadable. Her white eyes locked with Cassandra’s, and Cassandra’s grip on her lightsaber tightened.

  The lapse was brief, but it was enough.

  An insurgent slipped through her defense, blaster raised. Cassandra’s reflexes saved her—she twisted just in time to avoid the shot, cutting the attacker down in one swift motion. But the moment had shaken her.

  The girl. Why now?

  The insurgents fell quickly after that, their ambush crumbling under the force of the Empire’s retaliation. As the dust settled, Cassandra stood over the bodies, her lightsaber still ignited, her chest heaving with fury.

  Na'la hurried to her side, her voice cautious. “Are you alright, my Lady?”

  Cassandra didn’t respond at first. She stared at the fallen insurgents, her mind still racing, still caught between the battle and the vision. Finally, she extinguished her lightsaber, her expression hard.

  “We need to interrogate the survivors,” Cassandra said, her voice cold. “There’s more to this rebellion than meets the eye.”

  But even as she spoke, the vision of the girl lingered in her mind, her white eyes haunting Cassandra with every step.