Senator **Riyo Chuchi** stepped out of the shuttle and breathed in the crisp air of the planet. Though a polite smile rested on her face, her thoughts were far less cheerful.
She hailed from **Pantora**, a moon orbiting the icy world **Orto Plutonia** in the same system. Located deep in the Outer Rim not far from Wild Space, it was hardly a hospitable place. Yet long ago, the Pantorans' ancestors—fleeing war—had settled there and slowly adapted to its harsh climate.
Pantora was a small world, much of its surface covered in marshlands and tall grasslands. Its cities rose in distinctive architecture—tall towers crowned with domes and needle-like spires.
Riyo loved her homeland deeply. Since childhood she had wanted to contribute to its future.
Her parents, both politicians, supported her ambitions. At just sixteen she joined the Pantoran Assembly and quickly gained recognition by proposing reforms that improved local infrastructure and agricultural subsidies.
Pantora's government resembled a parliamentary republic. The ruler—Chair of the Assembly—was elected democratically but could be removed by the Assembly at any time.
Riyo's dream had always been to one day hold that office.
Instead, three years ago, the Assembly appointed her Senator—representing the **Sujimis sector** in the Galactic Senate.
So at only seventeen she took her seat among the galaxy's most powerful politicians.
Reality proved harsher than her dreams.
No one rushed to assist Pantora. Other senators offered only polite assurances and empty promises.
She constantly maneuvered between factions who cared nothing for Pantora itself—only for her vote.
To the wider galaxy, Pantora was merely another frozen Outer Rim backwater.
Yet her people deserved better.
---
Since childhood her idol had been **Padmé Amidala**.
Riyo admired the Naboo senator's strength. Amidala had guided her planet through crisis and gained immense respect across the Republic.
But lately Riyo found herself conflicted.
Amidala had achieved everything: influence, allies in the Senate, even the trust of the Chancellor.
Naboo could have become a central political power.
Instead, Amidala had chosen open confrontation with the Chancellor's policies.
Riyo wondered quietly if she herself would ever have the courage—or the power—to do the same.
Pantora possessed little political weight.
Her entire "army" consisted of a single regiment serving as police, honor guard, and defense force. Their vehicles included a few dozen speeders armed with light blasters and only thirty **Dagger-class starfighters**, some of which were merely training craft.
Pantora lacked major mineral resources and lay far from major trade routes.
Yet the world still held one unique treasure.
Blo'ku.
For centuries Pantorans cultivated these frost-resistant fruit trees, originally developed with help from the **Jedi Agricultural Corps**.
Blo'ku trees could bloom even under snowfall. Their red-pink fruits were sweet, nutritious, and prized across elite markets of the Republic.
Pantora held a complete monopoly on the fruit.
Every year massive plantations near the equator produced harvests that fed much of the population and provided the world's main export.
For a moment Riyo smiled.
Memories of home warmed her heart.
But reality returned quickly.
It had taken immense effort just to secure a seat on this diplomatic mission to **Randon**. Perhaps here she could draw attention to Pantora's struggles.
Ahead of the delegation waited their transport vessel.
Beside the open gangway stood the Jedi escort.
Riyo studied him curiously.
The man was young, clad in blue-steel armor, his right arm covered by a black gauntlet. Beside him stood a Togruta girl—clearly his Padawan.
This was **Dagon Marek**.
The Jedi.
Riyo had long been fascinated by their Order. Amidala had once drawn Jedi attention to Naboo's problems.
Perhaps… she could do the same for Pantora.
---
### Aboard the Corvette
The senators took seats inside the forward conference chamber.
**Bail Organa** and Amidala were already discussing negotiation strategies.
"We must present a united diplomatic front," Organa said calmly.
Amidala nodded.
"Randon's leadership is pragmatic. If we demonstrate the Republic's commitment to stability, they may reject the Confederacy."
Riyo listened quietly.
Soon the Jedi entered the chamber.
"We have entered hyperspace," Dagon announced.
He sat in the corner and began reading a datapad.
Riyo hesitated, then gathered her courage and approached.
She sat beside him.
He glanced up.
"Senator **Chuchi**, from Pantora."
She blinked in surprise.
"You know my world?"
"A little," he replied calmly. "How are things there?"
She sighed softly.
"Not well."
"The war has pulled Republic attention away from the Outer Rim. Criminal groups are growing stronger."
She clenched her fists slightly.
"I've petitioned the Senate repeatedly for additional defense support."
"And?"
"Every time the answer is the same," she said bitterly.
*Not enough resources.*
*Not enough ships.*
*Not enough troops.*
"Perhaps the Jedi Council could help," she added quietly. "But they would not even hear my request."
Dagon studied her silently for a moment.
Then he said:
"I think I can help you."
Her eyes widened.
"You will contact the Council?"
"No."
He leaned back calmly.
"I am quite capable of solving your problem myself."
---
At that moment Amidala returned to the chamber.
"Knight Marek," she said politely, "I noticed armed clone troopers aboard the ship."
She folded her hands.
"Is it wise to bring soldiers on a peaceful mission?"
Dagon spread his hands.
"It could become very unpeaceful at any moment."
"Do you expect the negotiations to fail?"
"One way or another," he replied evenly, "Randon will either remain neutral or join the Confederacy."
Amidala frowned.
"Any conflict can be resolved through diplomacy. Military solutions only worsen matters."
Dagon met her gaze.
"Diplomacy works best when backed by strength."
The two senators watched the exchange carefully.
Riyo leaned forward with interest.
---
### Later — During Hyperspace Transit
The ship hummed quietly as it sped through hyperspace.
Dagon stood alone near the observation corridor.
"Enjoying the view?" a voice asked softly.
He turned.
**Visenya Demaris** stepped from the shadows, datapad in hand.
Her emerald hair shimmered in the blue hyperspace light.
"Still sneaking around?" Dagon asked.
She smirked.
"Journalistic investigation."
"You promised not to get caught."
"I also promised to tell the story."
She tapped her recorder.
"So… Jedi Knight Dagon Marek."
He sighed.
"You're really doing this now?"
"Relax," she said.
"Just a few questions."
She leaned casually against the wall.
"You command clones, escort senators, and seem to predict political outcomes."
She smiled slightly.
"So tell me… are Jedi diplomats or generals?"
Dagon thought for a moment.
"Neither."
"And both."
"That's not very helpful."
"It's the truth."
Visenya studied him curiously.
"You're not like the other Jedi I've interviewed."
"How so?"
"They usually avoid attention."
He smirked slightly.
"Perhaps I prefer controlling the narrative."
She laughed softly.
"I like you already."
At that moment a new voice interrupted.
"Master?"
Both turned.
**Ahsoka Tano** stood at the corridor entrance with folded arms.
"Should I report that a journalist snuck aboard our ship?"
Visenya froze.
Dagon rubbed his temple.
"Ahsoka…"
The Padawan grinned mischievously.
"…Or should I ask for my own interview first?"
Visenya exhaled in relief.
"Deal," she said.
Ahsoka stepped closer.
"So, journalist… what's the first question?"
Visenya smiled.
"What's it like working for the most unusual Jedi Knight in the Republic?"
Ahsoka laughed.
"Oh, you have no idea."
And somewhere deeper in the ship, Senator Riyo Chuchi sat quietly, thinking about Pantora… and the strange Jedi who might change her world's future.