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Loss. That was what currently hit Circe as she sat back on the world of Malachor V. The Trayus Academy was, for now, a safe haven for the Sith Lady. Hologram projectors were being installed, connected to a miniature hypermatter annihilation reactor stripped from a Detritus bomber. The Academy would be successfully shielded from all forms of detection for decades, if not centuries were the Republic to come this far. Though copies of her texts from Tund and Malachor had gone to the Fringe, Circe had herself kept the originals on Serpena, keeping them with her other relics - Mandalorian armor, copies of ex-Sith technology, etcetera. Much had still been preserved there, and while Circe had lost her fleet, she merely planned to make another one. There were plenty of ex-Imperial ships to come to Serpena's yards, and many of them were fully supplied with resources and fuel, enough to reactivate them in the event that they were needed. A large portion of her old fleet had been at Malachor, hence her reason for coming to this planet.

"To any ships still in the area. This is Circe Savan. With the authority granted to me as Sith Lady, I request all nearby Imperial vessels who have not found a home elsewhere to rendezvous at this location."

Well, it was worth a shot.