Aboard the YT-1200 freighter Starfinder, exiting Hyperspace above Echnos, a moon of Tinn IV in the Tinn System:
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"I'll ask one more time, Captain Grebba. State your purpose." The icy-cold voice is made ever more sinister through the filter of the transmitter, and Tar Shubba gives Allyon Grebba a wide-eyed look as the menacing shapes of multiple naval starships including an imposing Imperial-I Star Destroyer loom through the viewport. Tar clears his throat, searching for the words that'd best worm his way out of this desperate situation.
Tar couldn't have foreseen how his secretive backing of the Trade Federation leading up to and during the first year of the Clone Wars would so negatively affect his circumstances upon the Federation's defeat. Sure, he'd have to give generous donations to the Republic war effort, but the benefits he reaped from the Frederation deals greatly outpaced those "contributions". The moment the Imperial New Order was declared, Tar started greasing the palms of credit-hungry diplomats and power-hungry Imperial officers, utilizing his numerous connections and large-yet-swiftly-draining financial reserves just to keep his family living in moderate comfort on Coruscant. However, as the years went on the same diplomats and officers would be knocking on his company door asking for more, so when Allyon Grebba, an old acquaintance who's shipped various goods for Tar under the noses of Republic inspectors for over a decade, reached out to the Balosar merchant with an offer to confidentially relocate him and his family to a world in the Outer Rim, Tar didn't think twice.
The journey was not a comfortable one. Allyon stayed away from the hyperspace lanes as much as possible, trying to avoid any terminus where an Imperial Inspector might be lurking. As the Starfinder leaves hyperspace outside the busy lanes, Tar's wife Tana breaths a sigh of relief, then squints at him. Tar gives her a weak smile.
"Just a few weeks here, Darling. Echnos has an entire apartment complex run by my good friend Zas from the Mandellion Coorporation, and we've got residential VIP seats to the BlastBoast 2000 due to his courtesy-"
Tana cuts Tar off with a louder and far more exaggerated sigh. "I don't want Seon to watch that garbage. Tell me this isn't a ploy to convince me to live here, Tar. You told me our new home would be on par with Niamos, and yet we're in this backwater world run by a company barely anyone has heard of."
"Of course not, Dearest. We just need to lay low for a little while, and there isn't an Imperial presence on Echnos, not yet anyway. We'll be out of here in less than a month, I swear it." Tar pats Tana on the forearm, which does little to assuage his wife's mood, as his 9-year-old Seon runs into the cramped guest hold, which is little more than a repurposed cargo room.
Seon pears wide-eyed up at his father, his two semi-developed antennapalps wiggling a little. "Daddy, where are we?"
Tar smiles what he hopes is reassuringly at his son. "Somewhere pretty cool, sport. Lemme show you." Tar takes the little Balosar's hand, Tana shaking her head disapprovingly as they make their way to the freighter's cockpit. Upon entering, Tar's sheepish smile drains from his face as he hears Allyon's uncharacteristically shaky voice and spots the projection of a scarred and grimacing Imperial Officer on the comms.
"-ship's magnetic bottle has come under scrutiny so we make for Echnos-III Station for supplies and safety check." Allyon doesn't spare a glance towards Tar or his son. "Just protocol, Captain-?"
The twisted face in the projection remains mostly unchanged as the coldest voice to ever curl Tar's antennapalps emits a raspy tone. "Senior Commodore Lonros Shern, Magistrate Squadron of His Imperial Majesty's 5th Fleet. Scans say your magnetic bottle is in adequate condition, of which you should be aware. I'll ask one more time, Captain Grebba. State your purpose."
Tar looks at Allyon, then out the viewport, his stomach sinking. The imposing figure of an Imperial-I Star Destroyer flanked by numerous lesser starships blocks the view of Tinn IV and a great majority of Echnos below. Tar's mind starts racing. This isn't right, why the blazes is an Imperial squadron here? Why now?
No time. Tar pushes his son outside the cockpit, telling him to go to his mother, then pulls up a chair and starts searching the HoloNet for Lonros Shern. Surely there's something there that could get him out of this mess. As Tar rapidly types, Allyon takes a breath and responds to the Senior Commodore in a steadfast tone. "Commodore Shern, I am currently on employ to escort a family from the Core Systems to the Outer Rim. The safety stop is mostly for them to stretch their legs, and Tinn's reputation speaks for itself so I thought it an adequate excuse."
Allyon spares a glance towards Tar, who looks at his screen: Lonros Shern. A moderately decorated ex-Republic officer from Corellia who swiftly joined the Imperial Navy upon Palpatine's takeover. A rising star, with a multitude of accomplishments in space combat. So escape was a no go, but Tar knew that. They were already surrounded. But a Corellian and a rising star, there might be something there. I could back him, Tar thought, I still have some contacts in Corellia and enough pull with the Navy. It'll be costly, but it beats getting shipped off to an Imperial prison.
Allyon continues. "What you correctly determined to be a deception was one not for you, but for them. If you wish, I'll submit to a boarding so you can see we have no ill will towards the Empire-"
"There is no need for that." Shern cuts him off, his tone somehow even colder. "We've just received word from the Mandellian Corporation of your mission and cargo." A deathly silence falls over the cockpit. Tar's brain starts screaming: "Traitorous rats! How could you, Zas? After everything I've ever done for you?!" He stops himself from shouting out loud. There's still a chance. He heads over to the captain's chair, pushing the deflated husk of Allyon aside.
Tar puts on his formal tone reserved for prestigious guests and future business-partners. "Senior Commodore. If what you've said is true, then you might have heard I'm a very influential man. I can have 100,000,000 credits routed to your squadron in a week, plus a guaranteed promotion to Rear Admiral in a month. There are two Vice Admirals in my circle, and the process would be swift-" He's cut off by a warning blare from the communications board. The Imperial-I was readying its turbolasers to fire. Shern's icy deadpan voice, his expression unchanged, fills the cockpit.
"Smugglers and Separatists have one fate."
All semblance of formality is dashed from Tar's now-panicked voice. "Wait! Wait wait wait, take me! Take me prisoner, my family's onboard this ship and they can't be held accountable for my actions!” The unfeeling ear-piercing alarm continues. “S-senior Commodore, I beg of you, I have a wife, Tana, she's… she's beautiful and more than I deserve, and my baby boy-"
“Daddy?” Tar turns, and through tear-ridden eyes sees the two subjects of his desperation staring at him from the cockpit's doorway. “Seo-”
...
There is little wreckage left of the Starfinder. On the bridge of the Virtue's Hand, Lonros Shern deactivates the communicator. "Alkrez." Lieutenant Vance Alkrez is caught staring at the spot the small freighter used to reside before snapping his attention towards his superior. "Sir!"
"Inform the Mandellian Representative that our line of communication continues, and if they receive any more requests for asylum, we are the first to know. Continue monitoring Tinn IV."
"Sir." Vance resists glancing towards Shern's bionic arm and hopes the shock for Tar and his family didn't show in his expression. He's seen what that arm can do to the Unfaithful. Vance barely has time to turn when one of the comms indicators lights up. 2nd Lieutenant Rictor Vammi swivels towards Shern. "Sir, we're receiving a tight beam transmission from the Cal System."
"Patch it through." Vance cautiously observes as Shern's eyes remain unchanged upon listening to Captain Ho'Naur's report. "Understood. Stand-by, and await the squadron's arrival." The transmission ends, and the officers on the bridge await with baited breath at this development. "Vammi, activate the fleet communicator." Vance swallows nervously. Despite Tarkin's reassignment order killing the Magistrate Squadron's momentum, as well as with this transmission possibly flipping that downturn, Shern's voice has remained unchanged. Cold, emotionless, and calculating. "Commander Rezlon."
"Sir!" Rezlon Thalkor, captain of the Venator-II Efficiency, enters projection view.
"Remain in orbit with Captains Zand and Korbint, and maintain our network here. All other ships, make ready for Hyperspace. We head for Tibrin of the Cal System.” The order has been given. Vance glances towards Rictor. He felt it too. A change, an end to this stagnation. Vance can't hide a small grin.
Shern turns towards his officers. They see no expression, hear no change in his voice, yet the air around him seems to fill with an oppressive energy that shakes the floor, the bridge, the very Star Destroyer itself, as the tiniest glint lights his eyes. “Prepare for engagement."
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Meanwhile in the Cal System...
