Your shuttle settles onto the makeshift landing pad at Evertine Crossing, its repulsors kicking up ash from smoldering structures and shattered duracrete. The settlement is alive with reconstruction crews and stormtrooper patrols, the aftermath of a battle already won.

The ramp lowers and she is already striding toward you, boots crunching on gravel. A trio of At-STs cross in front of her, headed for the tree-line; she doesn’t even glance at them as they stomp by. Her eyes are fixated on you. Prefect-Governor Maris Kreel.

Her uniform is dusty from the field but immaculate in its lines. Her hands clasp behind her back in a stance that radiates command. Her lone blue eye fixes on you with the focus of a targeting sensor. “Your Highness,” she says, stopping at the base of the ramp. Her voice is cool, clipped, not welcoming. “You were not summoned.” She says simply.

Everything about her expression, her tone, tells you that you are not welcome here. That is very likely the case as you came here against the advice of your imperial liaison and several ministers. But you felt the people needed to see their prince.

“I must ask: what exactly do you intend to do here?” She asks, with ramping annoyance.