"I'm coming." He turned and scrambled up the crumbling path and exited the caves, sprinting for the nearest ship. He glanced upwards as he ran only for a moment, but it was enough to see the group of Imperial destroyers looming ever nearer. "Do you have all four of the survivors?"

"I do. How soon can you get here? We can afford to leave the other ship behind." Zee was seated in the cockpit with Raia huddled in the seat beside her, still blinking against the daylight.

"I'm running, go ahead and take off!" He did not look behind him to see if the Inquisitor was following. He ran, his two hearts pounding in his chest. The cold air filled his lungs and he pushed onwards towards the ships, covering ground faster than most bipeds of his height could. The atmosphere began to darken with smoke and the shadows of the massive ships overhead.

"Without you?" She hesitated. "...Fine. Comm me as soon as you're in the air, do you understand? Head to Eriadu instead of Phelarion." The ship rose into the air, and she spotted his small shape among the smoke and fire.

---

"Should we fire, sir?"

Tarkin snapped out of his thoughts, looking out the viewport. What he assumed to be a Treacle ship was preparing to exit the atmosphere.

"Send out the TIEs," he said. "Have them gun it down." If Thalassa was going to be so explicit in her rebellion, then she was going to have to learn to take some losses. Tarkin wasn't sure how many Atoans remained on the planet, but he'd see to it there was no uncertainty about their demise this time. His eyes shifted to the little ant-speck scurrying toward the second ship, and he pointed. "Have the Executrix turn her guns on him; you may fire when ready."

"Understood." A surge of alarm filled him as he sensed a change from above. He lengthened his stride, using every ounce of his strength. If they destroyed his ship, he'd be destroyed alongside the rest of the Atoans. If they destroyed him, Tarkin would have his way.

No. He snarled, surging forward again. He would not allow the twisted old man another victory. He was almost to the ship. He didn't know if there was anyone left on board, or if he would have to start it himself. That was precious seconds.

Tarkin watched Sirejj dart toward the ship, a smile spreading across his face despite himself. The Zabrak didn't look nearly as cocky as he usually did, even from this distance--it was gratifying to see him panic like this.

Sirejj made up his mind then and there that if ever he crossed paths with Tarkin again, he wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

He reached the ship and leaped inside, the crystals sticking to his boots skittering against the metal. He stumbled into the cockpit and kicked the engines online. "Come on!" He diverted all power from the shielding and weapons to getting the ship off the ground. His shields would do nothing against the star destroyer's cannons anyway. He slammed his fist into the dash, crushing the button to boot up the internal computers. The engines grumbled to life.

Tarkin cursed. Of course the Inquisitor hadn't been able to kill him.

Another shape emerged from the tunnels--speak of the devil--and made a beeline for the silver needle ship. Tarkin hailed him on the comms.

"I want you on his tail all the way to wherever he's going," he said, his voice full of venom. "Report back to me when you do; I'll finish up here."

"Understood, sir." The Inquisitor leaped into his vessel, and within a matter of seconds he was speeding after Sirejj.

Tarkin rubbed his temples and turned away from the viewport from a moment, feeling lightheaded. He was still exhausted; he needed coffee or sleep.

Sirejj grabbed the controls once the ship was online and shot into the air. He caught sight of a small figure far behind him and kicked the ship into gear, sending up into the sky at as vertical of an angle possible. He'd make the jump as soon as physically possible and flicked on the hyperdrive. He set in the coordinates for the space outside Eriadu- why was he going there instead of Phelarion? Didn't matter, it was probably better to split up. Tarkin would focus on the Atoans, while he had the Inquisitor to deal with. If he was followed to the jungle world, Sirejj could truly lead him on a game of chase. That terrain favored him much more than here.

The Inquisitor removed his helmet and set his tracker, revving up his hyperdrive as well.

As he took off he watched the Inquisitor reach his ship. He turned and focused on getting into the atmosphere. He'd radio Zee once he was in hyperspace.

The ship was a fast one. He was impressed with how quickly the shuttle moved, but the Inquisitor's ship was quicker. Still, he had a headstart. If he could make the jump, he may avoid being tracked.

The Inquisitor focused his senses as he maneuvered toward Sirejj's shuttle, focusing on the Force signature so he could pinpoint it later. This was a technique he had learned from Vader himself, and it was useful for tracking people he was liable to lose.

Below them, Atoa burned green, blue, and purple; crystals cracked and melted under the bombardment of turbolasers from the Star Destroyers.

Sirejj felt a twinge of pain as the very caves he'd just escaped were targeted with the full force of the Imperial fleet. He did not look back. Fate had doomed Atoa from the beginning, and there was nothing he could have done to save her.

He reached the outer atmosphere with the Inquisitor ship gaining on him. As soon as he was clear, he flicked the switch that shot the ship into hyperspace.

The Inquisitor closed his eyes, casting out his mind. His hands found the coordinate controls, and he keyed in a few numbers.

"Wherever he's headed, it's somewhere on the Hydian Way or Rimma Trade Route," he reported. "He's taken the Great Kashyyyk Branch, but we'll see where he decides to hop off."

"Keep me informed," Tarkin replied; there were only two places he could think of along those routes that Sirejj might be headed, though it was possible the Zabrak would set down on a more obscure planet.

Once the ship was steady in space, Sirejj collapsed back into the pilot's seat. He was still panting for breath and sweating under his coat. He pulled it off. His shirt underneath was soaked. He dialed in Zee's frequency as he composed himself. That had been a narrow escape if there ever was one.