Location: Kadavo – Zygerrian Royal Court, Throne Citadel
Date: 22 BBY – Eve of the Siege
The royal chamber of Queen Miraj Scintel shimmered in gaudy opulence, lined with gold-plated columns, chained trophies of exotic origin, and towering statues depicting ancient Zygerrian conquests. The floor—gleaming obsidian polished by slave hands—vibrated subtly as the rumble of war drums echoed from the city below.
Above Kadavo, the night sky was ablaze.
The Eternal Alliance fleet now loomed across orbit—hundreds of warships, including Paladin dreadnoughts, Mandalorian assault carriers, and sleek Jadaii stealth cruisers.
The Court was restless.
Zygerrian nobles hissed and murmured behind folded robes and armored veils.
"This is madness!" barked Minister Yashk. "We must open channels. Negotiate! The Alliance demands are clear: Free the slaves, or burn."
"And surrender our legacy?" growled General Raskil, pounding his gauntleted fist on the stone table. "The slaves built this world. Their weakness feeds our strength."
"They outnumber us in ships ten to one," spat another voice. "We cannot win this war."
A noblewoman hissed. "So we flee? To what? Let our empire rot and die for peace? There is no peace with those who demand our submission."
At the head of the long chamber, atop a gilded obsidian throne, sat Queen Miraj Scintel.
Unbothered. Unmoved.
A feline smirk danced on her lips as her court bickered. She raised one ringed hand, and the room fell into silence.
Her voice was smooth, mocking.
"You're afraid of children."
Some nobles stiffened.
"Yes," she continued. "This 'Eternal Alliance' is led by Jedi no older than our war-trainees. Cain. Anakin. Seris. Upstarts. Idealists."
She chuckled, dark and slow.
"And yet... you tremble like whipped mutts."
Miraj rose slowly from her throne.
"They think they've cornered us. They think we've grown soft. But they forget—we invented the chains they now fear. The Zygerrian Empire was forged in blood and obedience."
She turned, voice sweet and laced with cruelty.
"Guards. Bring in the new pets."
The throne doors opened, and in stepped two prisoners, flanked by elite guards with shock-pikes.
Maul strode forward first, bare-chested and armored from the waist down, his lean red and black body a canvas of faded scars and thick muscle. His eyes were calm, cold. Calculating. A shock collar hummed softly around his throat.
Seris followed behind him, barefoot, clad in an elegant deep-blue silken gown slit high at the legs, wrists cuffed in ornamental shackles lined with pressure triggers. Her white hair fell to her shoulders, silver eyes dull but unbroken.
The court stared. Some with hunger. Others with fear.
Queen Miraj descended from her throne, gliding toward them like a serpent.
She walked past Maul, trailing a finger across his shoulder, before circling to Seris.
"So elegant," she whispered, gently lifting Seris's chin. "Your fire hasn't dimmed. Good it be so boring if you broke already."
Seris didn't flinch.
Miraj smiled wider, brushing a curl from the girl's cheek.
"A beautiful little bird… and a strong, dangerous hound. My favorites."
Maul's muscles coiled slightly, but he remained still.
Miraj turned to her generals.
"We'll let the Alliance strike our outer walls. Let them feel false hope. Let them batter themselves bloody."
She gestured to Seris.
"Tell them what you know, dear. Their weaknesses. Their vulnerabilities."
Seris met her gaze calmly. "Why would I do that."
Miraj smiled and whispered. " You tell me and I will let Cain life as my pet and I maybe let you two have a child or two." She smiled adding more to my collection
Maul's eyes flared—but he said nothing.
Miraj laughed. "Prepare all forces. Let's entertain our guests."
The briefing room was packed. Cain, armored in sleek black and silver Jadaii battle amour, stood before the projection of Kadavo with key strike zones blinking in crimson.
To his sides stood Selene Bo-Katan, Cody, Obi-Wan, John and the leaders of dozens of Paladin squads, Mandalorian strike wings, and Alliance battalions.
Cain's voice was steady, but his eyes burned.
"This will be a two-point assault. Outer shell resistance will be thick—shielded walls, heavy artillery, forced labor defenses. They want us to believe brute force is our only option."
He clicked a command, and the map shifted to the interior.
"But the true goal is here. The throne citadel. Home of their nobles. Their Queen. Their leaders."
Selene stepped forward. "We expect hidden slave chambers, captives being used as hostages, and ceremonial execution platforms if they suspect infiltration."
Bo-Katan spoke next. "Mandalorian drop teams will neutralize artillery and anti-air platforms. That gives our walkers a clean path through."
Obi-Wan crossed his arms, studying the intel. "And how exactly do we break the command structure without burning the entire city around it?"
Cain gave a small smile. "We already have."
The room fell silent.
Cain looked toward a private monitor, then turned to the others.
"Maul and Seris are already inside."
Everyone froze.
Obi-Wan's brows raised. "They're what?"
Cain nodded. "They volunteered. Three weeks ago, during the Kaminoan operations , they left under cover to infiltrate the palace directly. Captured 'publicly' by slavers along a hidden Hutt trade route. It was the only way to get past their inner defenses."
"You let your… your friend become a slave?" asked a stunned officer.
Cain's expression turned icy. "I didn't let them. It was their plan."
He turned to Obi-Wan.
"They're the deadliest weapons we have. And this campaign works only because they made it possible."
Obi-Wan exhaled slowly. "Then let's hope they're still alive."
Cain turned back to the map.
"Agreed but I believe in them."