Private In the Shadows

[Mia Monroe]

Set on the edge of Junction City, Fort Braxis was undergoing reconstruction. It had once been the birthplace of the Red Legion, the first iteration of soldiers who fought for the Mand’alor without holding to the resol’nare. Once complete it would serve as a barracks for Domarian and Mandalorian soldiers alike.

Mia was in the fort's centre, the war room here was already constructed, a small amphitheatre with a large holotable at its centre. The blue image of the Eastern half of the galaxy filled the room, empty of people bar the woman stood at its centre, her gaze tracking along the Empire’s borders.

The image shifted zooming in on the chasm that now rested between Tandun within their own border and Generis that rested behind Diarchy’s borders. Taking it would not be easy, sympathisers to the Diarchy would meet them at every turn, but it was doable.

The holoimage shifted at the touch of her fingers, rolling between planets, information of defenses and points of interest flowing alongside each. So engrossed in her work, Mia had forgotten who she had invited here today and why. It wasn't until soft steps and someone clearing their throat reminded her that she did actually have an appointment to handle.

"Warmaster, the Warden of Thule is here.”

Sidonia ‘s role as Warden of Thule was absolutely not why Mia had invited her here. There had been an epidemic among newer recruits, a trend of spice usage that had resulted in a handful of deaths. When she’d brought it to Aether he had given the Warden of Thule’s name as a point of contact to resolve the matter.

She hadn’t pressed, but today she’d find out why, one way or another.

"Bring her in." she said without looking round as the holoimage shifted back to a wider view, the Empire's territory rotated slowly above her.

 

[Sidonia]

Fort Braxis smelled of dust and hot metal, the kind that clung to the back of the throat. Reconstruction always carried a certain honesty to it. Nothing hidden. Just exposed beams, stripped stone, and the promise of what it would become. She appreciated that.

She was dressed in stark contrast to the unfinished stone around her. A skin-hugging black dress traced every deliberate line of her posture, the fabric smooth and severe, falling into a subtle trail that followed her steps like a shadow that refused to detach. Silver and blue high heels clicked softly against the floor, sharp and measured, each step controlled. She did not dress for comfort. She dressed with intention.

The war room was cooler than the corridors outside. Blue light from the holotable washed over the walls and over Mia’s shoulders, turning her into something almost carved from glass and steel. It caught along the dark fabric of Sidonia’s dress and glinted against the silver of her heels. She paused a few steps inside, hands folding loosely behind her back as the trail of her dress settled into stillness. She let the door close before she spoke.

“Warmaster.”

Her voice was calm, low, steady. No edge. No challenge. Her gaze moved to the projection, to the slow rotation of the Empire’s borders. She studied it in silence for a moment, as if she had simply come to admire the strategy. In truth, she was taking in Mia instead. The tension in her shoulders. The way her fingers hovered near the controls. A woman who lived in motion.

“I was told you wished to see me,” Sidonia said. “I assume this is not a social call.”

There was no hint of offense in it. Only quiet acknowledgment.

She stepped closer to the table, the hem of her dress whispering across the floor. The blue light caught in her eyes. “If this concerns the recruits, then speak plainly. I prefer facts to rumors.”

Her expression did not harden, but something behind it did. The faintest shift. Spice had a way of hollowing people out before anyone noticed. She had seen it before. Watched promising soldiers unravel because no one thought to look deeper than discipline reports.

“If there are deaths,” she continued, her tone still even, “then we have already waited too long.”

Sidonia finally looked at Mia directly. Not confrontational. Not deferential either. Just direct.

“Tell me what you need from me, Warmaster.”​

Mia Monroe​

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia shifted at the sound of Sidonia’s heels, blur light catching on black and gold armour, her buy’ce resting at her hip as she turned to her head to look towards the woman who had entered, sharp sapphire gaze flicking from head to toe once before shifting back to the projection.

“You assume correctly.” Mia replied softly, but before she could give any further explanation, Sidonia stepped closer, coming to the table's edge already aware of Mia’s chosen topic of conversation. Mia turned fully then, angling her body to face her, truly taking her in now. The even tone, the impassive mask. This was a woman who played well at politics, but the shadow that flickered behind her eyes said there was more.

“You are remarkably well informed, for a Warden.” Mia said, fingers moving over the controls again. The holo image shifted, shrinking to display below their eye level and shifting. Five files displayed, each marked with the face of the recruit who had passed, two women and three men.

“Five deaths, all spice related. Not Wildfire, thankfully, but close enough. Aether said you were the person to bring this to for a solution. So I’m bringing it to you.” She leaned to tap each file, images and evidence spilling out across the table for her to peruse at her leisure.

“I want a cure for the epidemic before it takes any more lives and I want it today.”

Sidonia

 

[Sidonia]

Sidonia did not look away when Mia studied her.

If she noticed the armor, the buy’ce at her hip, the weight of rank and history carried so openly, she gave no sign of it. Her heels were still. The faint trail of her dress pooled neatly behind her, black against the cold floor. Blue light from the holo washed over her face, but it did not soften her.

“You are remarkably well informed, for a Warden.”

The corner of Sidonia’s mouth shifted, not quite a smile.

“I make it my business to be.”

Her eyes dropped to the files as they appeared. Five faces. Young. Ambitious. Now reduced to still images and data streams. She did not rush to touch the display. She read first. Cause of death. Toxicology. Patterns. The silence stretched, not awkward, just deliberate.

Five deaths, all spice related. Not Wildfire, thankfully, but close enough. Aether said you were the person to bring this to for a solution. So I’m bringing it to you.”

“Not Wildfire,” she murmured. “But close enough.”

That was not a comfort. It was a warning. When Mia leaned in and laid out the evidence, Sidonia finally reached forward. Her fingers moved through the projections with careful precision, isolating one report, then another. Her expression did not change, but something colder settled behind her eyes.

“This isn’t random indulgence,” she said quietly. “This is supply. Someone is feeding them something consistent. Cut product. Refined enough to pass casual inspection. Strong enough to kill.”

She straightened, meeting Mia’s gaze directly. “You don’t have an epidemic. You have distribution.”

There was no heat in her voice. Only clarity. “A cure by today?” She tilted her head slightly. “Then we start by containment, not chemistry. Lock down leave for new recruits. Full toxicology sweeps. Quietly. No public tribunals yet. Fear drives secrecy, and secrecy drives usage.”

Her gaze flicked back to the five faces.

“I will trace the supply chain. Interrogate without spectacle. Follow the credits, not the addicts. If you want this stopped today, Warmaster, you give me authority to operate beyond Thule. No interference. No political restraint.”

Her posture remained composed, hands now resting lightly on the edge of the holotable.

“I can end this. But I will not do it gently.”

​

Mia Monroe​

 

[Mia Monroe]

A Warden that made it her business to be in the know regarding criminal activities? Between that and how quickly her name had been offered as the solution, it was easy enough to deduce that Sidonia was more than just a Warden. Mia didn’t press, the mystery would reveal itself quickly enough.

She watched Sidonia work, flicking through the files methodically. Her conclusion drew a heavy sigh, a distribution line within the base was a bigger problem than some shcutta in Junction City thriving off vulnerable recruits. She leaned forward, hands splayed as she leaned on the holotable, chewing the information and suggestions over, her eyes on the five faces. Young and eager only to be reduced to nothing by a drug.

Wordlessly, she tapped the console, a small holoimage coming to life, a Mandalorian who stiffened the moment he realised who was calling him.

“Warmaster?”

“Commander, are all our recruits in the barracks?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, lock them down discreetly, no leave today. If they ask why, give them something to do.”

The Mandalorian tipped his head, amusement creeping into his tone. “I can think of more than a few drills to keep them busy.”

“I figured you could. Ask Dee to run full health sweeps on all of them first.”

“That’ll piss her off. You want to tell me why so I can at least keep the beast at bay?”

“I need toxicology reports on all of them. Preferably without them being aware.”

He swore. “Understood, Warmaster. I’ll get it done.”

The image faded as she terminated the call, letting quiet fill the room again before she straightened. “You have full authority to act as you see fit, without interference, Sidonia.” she agreed looking at her finally. “Aether trusts you, and by extension, so do I. As this is clearly your area of expertise and not mine, I will follow your lead.”

Sidonia