Welcome to Gaia! ::

Some kilometers to the north of the mountain-top base, a team of GLF commando's made there patrol. At the head of the group is a large Cathar, a Westar C-12 craddled in his arms. As formation held, a kel dor holding a sniper rifle, his protected eyes sweeping the land-scape kept off to the side, a bothan off to the other side, packing a rocket-lanucher on his back and a blaster-rifle equiped with a grenade launcher on it who kept the other side of Zepth. In the near back of the group, a human in less armor than the rest of the bunch, and packed more heavily with small-to meduim sized pouchs, his head covered with a full-helm, he held a device which he was looking down at. In the back of the group was a large human by anyones opinion. His armor was stained with blood, and he packed a blaster cannon so large that one would consider it to be a kind ment only to be mounted, while that was on his back, in his hand he held nothnig but a Westar C-12, with a large barrel-mag.

Zepth stopped infront of a tree and took a seat for himself, the rest did like wise while Gaax continued to stand,the kel dor's eye-protection seeming to be much more as it lighted up and a small blue light blinked on the left eye-peice."Its pretty much clear sir,"

Drecks pulled off his helmet and gave a deep breath,"Not even sure why they want us taking these patrols, not like we'll encounter another commando group, we've been safe from the Empire here so far, and probably will be for a bit longer."He said as he placed the device back into an open pouch on his belt.

"We still need to be sure of that, you never know."Zepth said as he looked about. Graus, the large human just grunted and shifted himself some as he sat. The bothan, known as Zlic looked about aimlessly,"This planet is boring, therefore the perfect spot for a base in the core. Boring and unimportant."

Zepth gave a sign nd tapped the comm-piece next to his feline ear."Sector F-ZZ9 is clear, Alpha 1 out."

After a moment, his comm buzzed him back."Check Sector 61-6K, there is reports of life-signs, though not varified. The sensors may be acting up, but just to be sure."

"Affirmitive, out."Zepth commed back and stood up."On the double boys, you heard them." The rest nodded and hurried themselves up, Drecks sighing as he placed his helm back on and reterived his light repeater from its holster."Always us, why not send Delta or one of the others. its close enough to base."

"Stop complaining." Zepth said and they all heard Drecks helmet buzz ah he gave another sigh through the comm.

Borill reviewed his battle plan as the fleet waited on combat alert just beyond the edge of the Abregado Rae star system. It would be light at the base pretty soon, and then just a few hours until the battle would begin in earnest. He knew that on other ships the captains were briefing their crews and ground forces in on the plan.

That didn't mean he didn't have second thoughts, but it was too late now. The plan was set in stone. He'd been somewhat tied up with being forced to utilize the plaguetroopers, he still didn't know much about them, but he'd heard rumors, distasteful rumors.

The plan was stunningly simple, once the stormcommandos brought down the shields his fleet would suppress the defenses in the valley and begin sending light starships into the valley to eliminate the heavy enemy defenses. The plague troopers along with the sith would be shot straight into the battle and land directly in the hanger while conventional forces landed in the valley below and began operations against those units deployed outside the base.

If all went as planned the base would fall within an hour, perhaps two at most.

((probably zero, because they're technically thermal cloaked))

(Wait...thermal....Man, I'ma kill you. evil )

The mist hung in the air like grey curtains strung between the trees of the forest. Though it was noon, the forest canopy cut down much of the local sun’s light, adding to the dank, dark feeling that the surrounding terrain presented.

An automated troop hovertruck, laden with stormtroopers destined for the front, rumbled down a recently cut trail that wound its way through the misty woodland. Its spot lights cut into the haze and a trooper manned the vehicle’s repeater turret, sweeping the road for any signs of trouble.

In the Truck’s bed, Imperial Stormtroopers in forest camouflaged armor clasped their rifles tightly and cast nervous glances to the surrounding forest and the vapourous veils that obscured all.

“They say he’s out there.” A trooper told the man sitting next to him. “Boys from the 721st told me they spotted him three klicks south of this trail yesterday…”
“The 721st are full of kriff and you know it.” His squadmate replied. “They probably told you that because we’re heading out today. The Wanlon’s just Alliance propaganda.”

The first trooper cast another glance over the siderail and then turned in his seat to look at the other soldier. “Propaganda my assplate!” He said in a hushed voice. “How do you explain what happened to General Zhao!”
“You can’t honestly believe those rumors; a man cutting a military walker down with a sword? And then slicing his way into the cockpit to dice the General? Impossible!”
“Then what do you think happened?!”
“Just like the reports said. Guerillas got in too close with a Mini Proton Tube and sent him on his last jump. Happens to us grunts all the time.”
“Sithspit! Then what about the missing scout troopers?!”

“Nal,” The other trooper said addressing the worry wart by name, “We’re fighting not just the GA, but local Guerilla forces as well. We’re not popular on this planet. And the locals know this place by the backs of their skinny hands. So its natural they’re gonna use that to their advantage. Kill off a couple bike jockeys, detour a few supply convoys, and mix in a local ghost story for flavor. Its all mind games. That’s how guerillas work. It’s the only way they can match our numbers.”

Nal seemed to relax a bit and he audibly exhaled. “I still don’t like this Vic.”
“No one does. This damn forest needs to be carpet bombed so we can see what the hell we’re doing.”

Something rattled onto the metal floor of the bed, drawing the eye of every trooper riding in the hovertruck.
It was a stormtrooper’s skull like helmit.
The head was still inside, blood oozing out from within.
All rifles instantly rose to look upon the headless body at the repeater turret.

The assailant stood nearby balanced on the edge of the turret, a figure garbed in red and black with a glistening sword. Red war bars were painted across his cheeks and his Chiss like eyes bore into the souls of the assembled men. Pale hair and a yellow sash at his belt waved in the breeze as the transport lumbered on.
It was the Wanlon, the Sword Wight of Utao Prime.

A yellow banded sergeant snapped out of his shock first.
“Take him down!” He barked as he fired upon the ghoulish figure. Every man in the truck bed did what instinct told them and did the same, raining fire upon the Wanlon’s position.

But he was not there.
Nimble as a felynx, the Wanlon lept over the heads of the troopers the microsecond the sergeant had finished speaking and came down, sword flashing in the light of so many blasterbolts, upon the sergeant, his blade splitting through the helmet and the skull inside like a ripe groba melon. Moving faster than even stormtrooper reaction times could allow, he ripped his blade free of the corpse and slashed into two other soldiers with a single blow, gutting them with a sweep of his deadly weapon.
Never slowing, he sliced up, cutting another man from crotch plate to visor and then returned with a diagonal sweep down, cutting another trooper in two.
In the span of a few blinks he had ended five lives.

Panicked, the troopers opened fire upon the fiend, unwittingly shooting each other as the Wanlon dodged the arrays of shots with an agility best described as inhuman. His gaze zeroed in on another hapless soldier and his sword slit through her like a hot knife through butter. He slashed free and cut through the torso of another victim, then reversed his blade and thrusted it into the chestplate of a trooper standing behind him.

A bolt flew past his elbow and the Wanlon’s red eyed glare snapped to Vic. Whipping his weapon out of the man behind him as though he were drawing from a sheath, he lunged at Vic and took his head in a single clean sweep, the brainbucket flying out the back of the truck with Vic’s head still in it.

It was down to Nal. Out of a 20 man deployment, he was the only one still alive. By himself, the Wanlon had killed two squads of soldiers without so much as a scratch on him. The rest had shot each other in their haste to kill him, a frightening testimant to the lethality of the ARC-9995 blaster they all carried.

The Wanlon locked gazes with Trooper Nal.
“You never should have stepped foot in these woods.” The Wanlon spoke, his voice oddly calming and quiet for a cursed soul.
He whipped his blade about, flicking the gore from its tip, and advanced on Nal.
Terrified, Nal screamed and fired as the truck rumbled on, oblivious to the carnage that littered its bed…

Link snapped awake. He clasped his head, feeling a cold sweat.

Even after four years of toil and meditation, of helping others to pay for his sins, the memories still burned strong.
He sighed and ran his fingers through his blond hair, shorter now than it was back then and unbleached. He cast his blue eyes around the room he was in and he recalled his situation.

He was on a tramp freighter bound for Bandomeer via a few detour hyperjumps that was captained by a foul mouthed Rodian who happened to be an Antarian Ranger.

He sighed again and sat up from his bunk.
He caught the mutted thrum of the hyperdive as it hurled them faster than light, the faint whir of the generators running power to the ship’s various systems, and a hundred other small noises that came with travel in a well worked ship.

Then, above it all, he caught a voice; a heavenly sound that tugged at his mind with familiarity…

Happiness is just a word to me
And it might have meant a thing or two
If I'd known the difference….

Emptiness, a lonely parody
And my life, another smokin' gun
A sign of my indifference…

He had heard that voice long ago, a different song but the same siren call.
Leida?
Curiosity drew him forth from his quarters and he followed the music to the lounge.

There, Reido worked and oiled cloth along the barrel of his disassembled AR rifle, listening to a file playing on a nearby music player.
He caught sight of Link and nodded. “Morning Jedi. Well…by my home’s time its morning. Have a seat and grab yourself a drink. We got another couple hours until we hit the final detour for Bandomeer.”
Link did sit down, looking curiously at the music player near Reido’s Elbow.

“Who is that?” He asked as Leida’s voice continued to pour itself from the speakers.
Reido glanced at his music player. “Oh that? That’s Kieran Starlight. She’s Shazaraad’s lattest find. She’s pretty popular nowadays. Has a couple chart toppers in the rim. Got quite a voice for a near-human, eh?”
“Near Human?”
“Yeah. She’s got these huge pointy ears jutting out the sides of her head. other than that she looks just like the rest of you monkeys.”
Link nodded, not even paying attention to the rodian's words and continued to listen to the song.

It had been four years.
He wondered if she even remembered him. And then he wondered why he should even care.
He couldn’t find an answer for either questions.
The ship continued its flight, drawing ever closer to their destination.