To be honest, Galo-ban was amazed the battle was going so well. To be fair, it was probably his fear that lent skill to his saber.
Galo-ban was terrified. Rarely since the sacking of the Temple had he been involved in direct combat, and even then it was never with more than two or three combatants at a time. And this time, there were no scores of Jedi around to aid him.
This time, most of the troopers he was here to rescue were already down, and his green double-bladed lightsaber made him priority number one to the assaulting mercenaries. Continue reading
Gaedyn observed the skirmish from a cliff-top as it unfolded in the distance. The small Republic squad had been taken entirely by surprise, and had suffered severe casualties as a result. They responded to the assault with practiced precision, but Gaedyn had seen enough engagements over the years to know that the mercenaries would soon make short work of the remaining commandos.
They would, that is, if they were permitted to push the assault. Continue reading
Lilandra sat completely still on an old chair she used solely for meditating, and extended her senses across a large portion of the planet. It was no trivial feat to reach out and listen to so many individuals simultaneously, but she had always been extremely empathetic, and the task was made easier by the fuel of anxiety that stems from a plan with so many moving parts that must each function like clock-work.
His presence was, of course, easily detected. Continue reading
Sergeant Couryn Greymark stared at the cybernetic implants covering Jon-ah’s eyes. He wanted desperately to trust the man in front of him; he had a bad feeling that before this sortie was over, he would need all the help he could get. But he could not get a read on the smuggler.
Given Jon-ah’s past, the sergeant doubted he could appeal to any sense of the man’s loyalty. But on the other hand, he hadn’t run when he had the chance. Though, he still might.
“Sarge, the transport’s down, and they got Fritz!”
Dammit, not Fritz! “I don’t suppose, Mr. Jon-ah, that you know how to operate a CZR-9001, do you?”
Jon-ah shook his head.
“Didn’t think so. Your blasters are in the lean-to right next to this one,” he indicated the direction with a head nod. “Grab ‘em and follow me.”