The world of Crait was hardly inviting to any traveller. A milky white orb of crystalline salt, its pale surface was broken only with the mild grey of planes shifting and streaks of red where the undersoil broke through. Abandoned by much of the galaxy and all but forgotten to time, from orbit it resembled a blinded eye hanging in space. Tarvitz had its appearance repellant, almost uniquely foreboding even among the Outer Rim’s more infamous worlds. Even after breaking through the atmosphere his opinion of it had hardly improved.
Passing low over the featureless white plains, the combat blackened Spitfire made another sweep over the area, searching for anything of true note. Buckled into the cockpit of the N-1 Starfighter and reading the instruments with a mixture of bewilderment and boredom, Tarvitz sighed. He had jumped into orbit a few hours prior, flying the Spitfire in a recon pattern over the world. First searching for debris in orbit and then across its surface, he had searched for any signs of battle, anything which might have offered him some clue as to what had happened here. Or, at least, just who was broadcasting a distress signal on Brotherhood frequencies.
For all the efforts he - or at least the R3 Astromech locked into place behind his cockpit - had made, they had turned up nothing. There was no debris, no residual energy from laserfire, not even the suggestion of a crash landing due to engine malfunctions. No hint as to just what might await them, or more importantly why the distress signal had been activated. The only thing that they had confirmed was that the signal itself was originating from an abandoned facility built into the mountains and ringed with decaying battlements. Behind him, Ratchet gave an indigent whistle. Tarvitz glanced down at the translation on his cockpit display and snorted with laughter.
“I agree, and if I wanted to set a trap I’d do the exact same thing,” he admitted, leaning back in his seat as he considered his options “And you’re certain it’s one of our codes?”
Ratchet offered no response, opting instead to patch the same repeating tone they had picked up earlier through to his helmet. As he listened again, there was certainly no mistaking it. While the pattern did not resemble any previous records of Iron Legion messages he had been provided, it was almost certainly one of the Brotherhood's distinctive coded signals.
“Well then, nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Tarvitz said as he reached down and began initiating procedures for a rapid atmospheric entry “Perhaps we’ll get lucky, and it’s someone seeking to switch sides. Does the usual approach sound good to you?”
A single bleep answered him, and the N-1 turned about as Ratchet took control of the ship. Banking it sharply about, it glided over the crumbling trenchworks and craters left from the last battle fought there. Anything of worth had long since been picked clean by scavengers or left to rot, leaving only the metal bones of each side’s engines of war. Tarvitz could hardly tell which had been which, but if there was a metaphor to be made from the sight, it escaped him. As he felt the repulsorlift plates hum to life beneath him, the starfighter came to a halt just over a meter above the ground, directly before a pair of vast reinforced doors.
“So, keep flying patrols, keep scanning, and if I give the word…” Tarvitz began, but a sarcastic bleep of acknowledged whistle cut him off, “Good. See you in a minute.”
Freeing himself from the cockpit Tarvitz vaulted over the side, feeling the ground crunch loudly beneath his feet as he landed. There was a slight flicker as the holographic HUD adjusted to the alien environment, scanning for possible threats ahead of him. Offering Ratchet a final wave as the starfighter took to the air once more, Tarvitz shouldered the blaster rifle at his side and advanced toward the hanger doors. They had been misshapen, almost bent inward by some great impact and then dragged apart, leaving them locked open in a position just wide enough to permit a landspeeder through.
Much of the interior was hidden away by darkness, save for what little sunlight pushed in through open doors. Debris was strewn about the place, with upturned crates and broken machinery littering the area for as far as he could see. Most were coated by a thin layer of white salt which had crept its way inward through the open doors, and every step forward he took crushed more underneath. Every time, the loud crunch of Tarvitz’s footfalls seemed to echo about the artificial cavern, breaking the stillness of its interior. It was hard for him not to feel as if he was intruding upon a tomb.
Taking a few more cautious steps inside, Tarvitz looked down, checking the signal’s strength on his comlink. It was close by so far as he could make out, perhaps even within the hanger itself. He took another step forward, and something screamed a warning in the back of his mind. Tarvitz whipped his head about, searching for a possible threat. The sudden action saved his life. There was a crack from somewhere off in the darkness and something sped past his head, passing close enough to chip the very edge of his helmet.
Instinctively Tarvitz dived forward, hurling himself behind the nearest crate as another bullet ripped through the air and embedded itself against the rusting floor. Almost exactly where he had been standing just a second ago. A third shot ricocheted against the ground a heartbeat later, skimming the very edge of his cover.
“Oh, for the love of-!” Tarvitz managed, hunching down with his back against the crate “If you’re the one who activated that distress signal, would you mind not shooting the one trying to rescue you!”
His words echoed about the hanger, and the gunfire paused for a moment. Then, a low hiss of a chuckle answered him, seemingly coming from everywhere at once.
“That makes six now,” the voice said with a grim amusement, “Pravus is a poor leader if he relies upon Inquisitors who so willingly walk into my traps.”
Tarvitz started to rise up, hands held above him as he was ready to object, but another warning through the Force send him ducking for cover even as another shot was fired.
“Yes, very nice, it’s a truly wonderfully crafted trap,” Tarvitz retorted, quietly trying to buy himself a few moments as he weighed his options “Just one slight flaw - I’m not an Inquisitor!”
“A lie I might entertain if you did not carry their equipment.” The sniper responded. Rather than echoing throughout the area, his voice instead buzzed quietly through Tarvitz’s comlink.
Before Tarvitz could answer further, another shot quickly silenced him, this one punching through the crate mere inches above his shoulder. He was beginning to get the feeling that this sniper, whoever he might have been, was not about to sit down and talk this out. At least not while he was still holding that rifle. Concentrating for a second, Tarvitz raised one hand over the crate and channelled the Force into his palm. It exploded into a phosphorescent burst pure white light, momentarily illuminating a segment of the hanger with the intensity of a new dawn. There was a growl of agony from somewhere nearby and as the blinding light dimmed, Tarvitz rose above his cover. Some way off, half-hidden behind a makeshift fortification of abandoned equipment, he saw something humanoid recoiling in pain and dropping a distinctly rifle shaped object. Tarvitz made a grasping motion in the air, and the rifle skittered across the ground, coming to land partway between them.
"Now, are you willing to sit down and settle this with words, or do I need to start shooting back before you'll listen to me?"
