Three thrones of obsidian and steel sat atop the far dais, arranged in a crescent. Upon them sat three figures—helmeted, still, and watching her through T-shaped visors that glinted crimson in the dying light. The three sisters rose as one, perfectly synchronized, as if moved by a single mind. Then, in fluid unity, they bowed. One remained standing. She spoke in a calm, polite but weary voice.

“What do you seek with us Jedi? You must be lost.”