SithLore

Emergency lights strobed red and white, illuminating the darkness in brief flashes. Each pulse painted a tableau more gruesome than the last. Hard-vac was seeping in despite the best efforts of the dying ship’s life support systems. Eyes bulged from blue faces, frost forming on sweat drenched hair. Alarms rang out, once unbearably loud, now fading to almost nothing as the encroaching vacuum set in. The artificial gravity had long since given out, with only a minimal amount being generated by the out of control spiral of the small craft. As the craft spun, a brown-green orb passed by one of the viewports, growing closer with each rotation.

Among the bodies floating through the luxury yacht, only one stirred. It was a human female, still only a handful of Galactic Standard Years past young adulthood. Dark hair clung to her as she struggled and twisted, barely avoiding some soft and not-so-soft collisions with the other bodies and debris. This avoidance was assisted by subtle exertions through the Force, gently pushing objects out of her path as she angled from one wall to the other, searching for something to help her survive the impending crash on the planet below. Panic was evident on her face, exacerbated by the pull of the cold and vacuum, but she moved with purpose and control.

The woman spotted a helmet bouncing to and fro near the front viewport, and, with two semi-controlled maneuvers, was able to position herself to catch onto the co-pilot’s chair where she could reach out and snag the helmet as it careened by. In swift, practiced motions, she wrapped her hair into a tight bun and then slipped the helmet over her head. The suit hissed air as it pressurized fully. She thanked her lucky stars that she had been wearing the rest of her blue and green Mandalorian armor before the attack had begun. Finally taking a deep breath for the first time in minutes, she set out to assess the situation and the attack.

Just minutes after we arrived in system, they attacked. It’s like they knew we were coming. Dark thoughts. It meant that someone had leaked their mission. It meant that her communication with the Galactic Alliance hadn’t been as secret as she had hoped in the last months. Nothing to do for it now, but survive this crash and then root out the traitor, she thought with a grim determination. Her mission, along with her crew, had been to scope out Felucia posing as a rich, Imperial tourist. It was one of the closest planets along the battle lines of the Empire and the Alliance, and seemed rife for a recovery effort by the Alliance.

Ordona Vandorak shook her head. It felt like her brain was rattling around loose inside her helmet. She’d spent months in minimal contact, preparing her cover. Paperwork, the yacht, time and energy into a believable backstory. It had worked on a number of missions prior to this, and she was getting secure operating under the guise. Perhaps too much.

She pulled herself into the pilot’s chair and strapped in. Minimal displays flickered on the dash before her, most displaying dire warnings or, worse, nothing. The alarm was only a memory now, muffled by her helmet and the encroaching void of space. Passive radar was still in effect and just at the fringe of its range, Ordona could make out the blip of the fighter that had demolished her yacht. It stayed at that distance, watching as she tumbled to the planet with no control. Rage boiled within her. She smothered it with an iron will. Though it had been a long time since she’d been a Sith, old habits seemed to die hard.

Which is what I’m about to do if I can’t figure something out, she thought with black humor.

It took Ordona only a few short minutes to get a full picture of the damage to her ship, but it felt like a lifetime as Felucia loomed larger and larger in the side viewport every time it came into view. The left ion engine was doomed, but by routing what power remained away from life support and most of the shields, she was able to get minimal output from the right one. By that time, her yacht was passing through the atmosphere of the jungle planet and time was up for anything beyond prayer’s to the Force and instinctive actions.

Timing the thrusts with the rotation of the ship, Ordona was able to slow the spiral dramatically. She gave herself wholly into the Force trusting the mystic energy and years of experience to make the crash yet another landing to walk away from. Her hands flew over the controls, grasping the yoke when necessary, but just as often holding it still with the power of the Force and freeing both hands to flip switches or adjust knobs, routing power through the shields and the single engine. Air screamed through a number of rips in the ship, every now and then accompanied by the shrieking of metal as it was ripped from the yacht by the intensity of the descent.

Timing one last thrust as the engine was positioned below the ship, Ordona felt herself wrenched back in her seat as the nose tipped slightly upward. Darkness pressed against the edges of her vision, the G forces overcoming her ability to stay conscious. With one last push, both physical and through the Force, Ordona yanked the stick toward her, desperately trying to lower the angle of impact. Simultaneously she pushed power back into the front and bottom shields, praying they would cushion her impact.

Green and brown closed around the ship. It shuddered, smashing through branches and trunks. Splinters flew. The seat restraint kept Ordona from plowing through the front viewport, but only just. Anguished screams of metal ship, wooden trees, and fleshen human disturbed the peace of the jungle.

The pain lasted only briefly before the sweet darkness of unconsciousness consumed Ordona.

***

When she awoke, it was dark. Pain pulsed from almost every inch of her, despite the protection of the armor and restraint. Ordona took comfort in the pain. It was something she was well used to, and, more importantly, it meant that everything was still attached. Hopefully. She struggled free from the straps of the pilots chair, having to push aside branches and other debris in the process. The front viewport was shattered, and it seemed as if a whole tree had punched through the co-pilot’s seat. Ordona shook her head, thanking her luck and the Force in equal measure.

Pulling herself upright was an ordeal unto itself. Her vision swam and it took a three count before she had steadied herself enough to look around. Behind her were the twisted remains of her team, contorted into inhuman shapes by the devastation of the crash landing. Ordona sighed, setting her mouth in grim determination. She was well acquainted with death, but she no longer welcomed it as a friend, as she had before. Instead it was a dark, unavoidable reality.

“No. This was avoidable. And I need to get off this planet so I can hold someone accountable,” Ordona whispered to her fallen comrades. “I wish I could stay and give you the send off you deserve, but they’ll be here soon and we all know I need to be gone by then.”

With one last prayer to the Force for the dead, she went to the locker near the airlock, thankful it hadn’t been torn from the ship in the crash. There she entered a code that revealed a hidden compartment. Inside was a small arsenal. She grabbed her lightsabers and stowed them in their usual place along the small of her back; strapped a blaster to her thigh; slung a rifle over her shoulder; and just for good measure a pair of thermal detonators in a pouch on her hip. She also took a minimal survival pack and hung it opposite the strap for the rifle.

Ordona pressed the button to open the airlock. Not so much as a spark passed through the mostly wrecked panel, and Ordona felt the anger return. Before she had time to process the emotion, her lightsabers were in her hands and she struck out in a violent fury. A flurry of four quick strokes with the sabers rendered the airlock door a smoldering hole. Slowly, carefully, Ordona stowed the sabers and stepped into the humid air of the jungle.

Prazutis' imperial shuttle exited hyperspace near the atmosphere of Felucia, already being nearby when the call for backup was given for any inquisitor nearby. Although Prazutis wasn't sure who it was that he was supposed to be looking for, but if they were asking for an inquisitor, either they didn't know who they were dealing with when they attacked this vessel, or they did... and it was a force user.
Prazutis looked at the imperial I-class Star Destroyer that hovered near the atmosphere as his ship entered into Felucia's gravitational pull. It was strange... they sent the search party down but still stayed nearby... were they expecting the party to need backup?
He wasn't sure, but as his pilot droid sat his ship down, he observed the small trooper transport already landed. Seems he was late for the search party.

Prazutis stepped out of his ship and walked towards the exit of the small, empty spaceport, seeing a squad of about 6 troopers discussing plans for approaching the crash site of the yacht they had shot down. He saw a commander at the front talking to the other 5 troopers.
"Keep blasters on stun unless hostiles fight, if any men go down, set for kill. Otherwise, any survivors are to be captured."
Prazutis silently sighed as he listened to the trooper. He knew what he was doing, but if an inquisitor was called to the scene, he wouldn't have ever told them to set for stun in the first place. If someone here could be dangerous enough to need an inquisitor, they are too dangerous for troopers to apprehend alive.
Seeing the inquisitor, the commander hesitated.
"Inquisitor... We weren't expecting any reinforcement." The commander spoke.
Prazutis looked at them for a moment before forming his response. All eyes were on him for a moment.
"Then you must not have been properly informed. I received a request to come here by the officers on board your Star Destroyer." He crossed his arms as he looked at the troopers. They all looked at one another before the commander spoke up again.
"Well... if you would join our assignment, we'll be happy to have you, though from our briefing, it will be a fairly boring search. The life support and artificial gravity were both disabled before the ship crashed down at full speed to the planet surface. There's a high chance that there were no survivors."
Prazutis looked to the direction of the crash, thinking to himself. There was something there... a light presence. And he didn't like it.
"Don't be so sure, commander..." He narrowed his eyes as the troopers moved towards the crash site, the commander and Prazutis following behind.

***Tion Cluster - Deadspace - S-6***
***MC90 Heavy Cruiser Liberty***

“Check it again.” Major Starnes barked at the young officer behind the observation station. Within the Strategy Room of the Liberty Harold Starnes, an Alliance Intelligence Major, operated many of Task Force Liberty’s clandestine operations. From Alliance Operators to more daring flashpoint engagements, his sector of operation lay along the Prelemian Trade Route, one of the most hotly contested areas of space between the Galactic Empire and Galactic Alliance and occasionally the Sith too. Ever busy, Major Starnes was a sharp man and rarely did anything slip beyond his high level of awareness.

Right now he stood brooding right over the shoulder of his Tech Officer who had just captured an anomaly during one classified operation near the far flung jungle haven of Felucia. It was not a hot zone at the moment though the movement of the war indicated that hostilities were likely to break out on the world sooner rather than later. Which was why a specific mission had been sanctioned to target said world with some advance reconnaissance in mind.

Typically these sort of operations were pretty straight forward and safe to execute for Alliance Operators, but apparently the usual tight tiered security of Alliance Intelligence had either cracked momentarily or… Major Starnes narrowed his eyes and glanced about the room suspiciously… they had a mole. It wouldn’t be the first time that a rival intelligence agency had managed to infiltrate Alliance Intelligence. It was the world of a spy, after all. It was their business, it was their trade. Even once that the major could recall a mole had even been permitted within AI’s ranks. Rooting them out though was not a clean thing and often resulted in good men dying and staff being flushed.

He thumbed through the files he had on hand of the operation to Felucia and as he suspected the files were heavily redacted. One of their best had likely been on this mission, he could tell, the setting had a good foundation and the preparation was intense. How the leak had found them he was unsure. But to his dismay he listened to the Tech Officer as he delivered the very same report for a third time;

>>>Mission Report<<<
Infiltration team compromised.
Communications down. All contact lost.
Transponder deactivated/disabled by outside means.
Opposition unknown.
>>>Status<<<
Unknown.
Team unresponsive. Possible all hands lost.

Starnes frowned heavily. He’d been praying for a change in the brief report but again it looked quite morbid. Agents were lost often, yet it never sat well with him, especially when those Agents were never found again. “Get me the Vice Admiral.” He instructed…

***Ready Room - MC90 Liberty***

Now he was pacing uncontrollably, punctuality or tardiness wasn’t a factor as he the Major awaited the Vice Admiral, rather it was anticipation to get the mission underway. Again he checked over his datapad and double checked the asset request he was about to make. Since his team had come up missing he wanted the immediate deployment of a quick reaction force to go in and retrieve the downed mission. Rescue survivors and recover any operators that were KIA. It was a hefty request; sending a large unit into border territory with no estimation of force opposition, though it was necessary and aside from sending in another Special Forces team this was his only option. Seeing as Spec Ops teams weren’t so readily available on a whim, he would seek help where he could get it.

Soon enough the doors parted and in came three individuals. One was a Mon Calamari bedecked in an Alliance Navy uniform wearing the rank pips of a Vice Admiral. The other two wore far less in the manner of flash, rather they wore traditional Jedi attire. “Admiral!” The Major announced and he marched straight to the command officer.

“Major Starnes, what do you have for me?” The verbal acuity of the Dac native was surprisingly well, typically a being of his race struggled outside of a more humid environment.

Swiftly the Major brought the trio up to speed. In the end the Vice Admiral held a look of caution. Behind the scenes Alliance Operators were Black Ops, they knew these risks and losing entire teams, while very rare, wasn’t something the Alliance openly responded to. But before the Vice Admiral could speak, the elder of the Jedi pair interjected. “Major, it seems to me that the best course of action here would be to respond with minimal assets in order to ensure our movements remain unnoticed and if our down team is still alive, to ensure a better chance of their extraction. Should we deploy an entire Marine unit the Empire will not miss it and we’ll bring down much more than potential search parties on our survivor’s heads.”

The Major nodded, “I agree Master Jedi, though we have no indication the Imperials are in the area.”

“The Imperials are unaccounted for in this theatre.” The Vice Admiral responded, “We are aware of a Destroyer and possible supporting elements.” He shook his head, “I must concur with Master Kenobi, sending a Marine Strike Team in this situation would be disastrous.”

“Then an Operator element.” Starnes responded.

“Major, we’ve none available within a three day window.” Dreadful news indeed; in three days the survivors of the team in question would surely be in Imperial or bounty hunter custody.

“If I may,” both officers paused and looked to Ben Kenobi, knowingly as to what he was about to propose. “We could take a team ourselves and conduct this operation with care.” A team as he suggested were no doubt the Jedi’s non-Force armsmen, the Antarian Rangers. They were scouts and lightly armed, perfect for this sort of role rather than front line soldiers in the trenches.

Major Starnes remained silent, ultimately this mission lay on the Vice Admiral’s order. While he had no jurisdiction over the Jedi Coalition, it was a modicum of respect that they would defer to him for military operations whilst stationed aboard his ship. “Alright,” the Vice Admiral said, “Master Kenobi, time is of the essence, I suggest that you depart immediately.”

Without another word Ben turned away along with his Padawan Sophii Zahra, the next thing he did was signal both R6 at his ship to fire up the Talon’s engines and a signal to Captain Jann, commander of the Liberty’s Antarian Ranger contingent. As soon as they’d left the Ready Room they were jogging towards the hangar…

Jedi Padawan Sophii Zahra found herself surprised by two things aboard the Alliance Heavy Cruiser Liberty. The first thing was the way that soldiers and crewmen looked at her and Master Kenobi, as if they still had reservations about the whole idea of Jedi in the first place (and who could blame them, considering the Jedi's scarcity ever since the fall of the Old Republic?) The other thing was just how cold they kept the ship. The young woman had to fight the urge to pull her cloak over her shoulders, for she wanted to look approachable and friendly as a representative of the Order. Besides, her cloak wasn't long enough to do any good for her feet as they padded smoothly over the metal floor.

She followed her Master into a meeting room, walking in just behind the Mon Calamari Officer who had been breifing them on the mission. As the others spoke, Sophii moved around the room, practicing her psychic senses to try and look into the other Officer's mind. As she slowly paced the circumference of the rounded wall, the green-robed Zabrak let her eyes fall shut and her head bow in focus. She made only two slow curcuits of the room before it was time to go. With a small nod of her head to each of the Alliance Officers, Sophii followed Ben into the corridor.

"What is our plan, Master?" She asked as they moved purposefully to another part of the hulking ship.

Hot air roiled through the dense undergrowth of the jungle. Almost as thick, the Force emanated from the multitude of living flora and fauna, nearly palpable to Ordona’s heightened senses. It made it more difficult to use the mystic energy as a sort of radar, trying to detect any approach. Relying on physical senses alone left Ordona jumpy, and she found herself startled by every cracked branch and flickering shadow. As best as she could figure it had been nearly half a day since she’d left the crash site. How long she had been unconscious though, Ordona couldn’t begin to guess.

Shafts of light had started to permeate the thick canopy about half an hour ago. Ordona paused in the shadow of a fallen mushroom-tree. She sat in the curve of the vast cap that had been grounded when the massive trunk had fallen. Her helmet hung from the rifle strap, having been removed to allow at least some air flow hour ago. Ordona dreaded the thought of the temperature once the sun had fully risen on Felucia. Already the various fungus-like plants glistened in the shafts, creating a beautiful mosaic of color and light, but also raising the temperature even further.

Ordona counted it luck that she hadn’t yet run into any of the animal species of Felucia, let alone any of the natives. Her planned visit hadn’t intended to take her outside of Kway Teow, the capital, but she’d still done her research. The Jungle Felucia weren’t particularly friendly to outsiders, though it seemed they were less hostile than many of the animals. And the plants! Ordona thought with more than minor annoyance. If it weren’t for the Force, I’d be digesting in that things sac. She shuddered at the thought, glad to have spotted the misshapen plant well before entering striking range.

She rooted around inside the survival pack until her fingers found the cool metal of the water flask. Ordona took a long drag, savoring the water despite its tepidity. Sighing, the ex-Sith stood up and stowed the flask. She wasn’t sure where she had crashed, but hoped to find some kind of civilization before the sun reached its peak or the jungle got the best of her or some Imperial found her or she ran out of water or ... or, or, or what? Get over yourself and get out of this mess. You’ve got a job to do, get to it, she chastised herself.

Just before she turned from the shade of the mushroom cap, Ordona froze mid-step. It took a moment for her mind to catch up to what her instincts were telling her. Slowly, quietly, Ordona lowered herself down. There was a crackling in the underbrush nearby. She lowered herself into the current of the Force, trying to discern what she was hearing, but struggling against the tidal pressure of the rest of the life in the jungle. Whether native or Imperial, Ordona hoped she wouldn’t have to find out.

“I want a full sweep of the ship, top to bottom!”
The commander called out as the troopers slowly entered the ship, Prazutis looking over the flora around the ship. It was obvious it had been there for at least half a day, and anyone stupid enough to stay within the confines of the vessel so long wouldn’t be much of an issue for simple troopers, Prazutis thought to himself. However, that didn’t mean they would walk away from it completely.
A pause. The presence, the light that tried pulling away from the dark frantically, but still had a foothold in the dark side... it was nearby.
Prazutis turned, looking towards the source of the disturbance he had felt... he slowly approached, his hand near the handle of his lightsaber, the commander and another of the troopers looking on as he walked, both of them nervous as they carefully set their blasters back to the normal lethal function.
Prazutis hesitated. Not out of fear... perhaps pity? He wasn’t sure.
“I’ll give you one chance... come out. Now.” Prazutis was blunt. To the point. He wasn’t here to toil with whatever resources the ship carried. He was here to find a survivor and it seemed that’s exactly what he has done.

Her question was forthcoming and loaded. What indeed? There was much on the line here as they were about to embark into the blanket of Imperial Space. This was not something Ben Kenobi was a stranger to but it was something he was very aware of every time that he made the move for even a single slip up and the Imperial boots would be heading that way for the Empire had a way of reacting to situations with rather extreme force that didn’t take into account the potential for collateral damage. On a world like Felucia the collateral damage would be minimized to jungles and brush, but it was still a very real danger to be wary of.

“Our plan, Sophii, is to make as minimal impact as we possibly can. The less the Empire knows of our presence here the better. Meaning, if we can infiltrate Imperial Space and exfill before they ever know what we’ve done then all the better for it. In all likelihood though, that won’t work out so we must be prepared for a hot extraction.” They hopped onto the turbolift and it was sent speeding downward to the lower levels of the MC90 as he continued his assessment and extended answer. “We also aren’t going in with a standing force, nothing more than an advanced recon team so it would be very wise of us to remain out of contact with the enemy unless absolutely necessary.”

The turbolift stopped and spat them out into a lengthy corridor, once again they fell into a jog. The passing ship hands of the Liberty bade them pass with looks both wary and confident in contrast, if the Jedi were in action then it was the lore of old coming into reality. They feared it and anticipated it in both hands, often at the same time. Some were even anxious to join on the adventure though they remained on their station. Ben and Sophii spent the next fifteen minute traversing the breadth of the massive Alliance Navy warship until they finally were dispensed into the hangar bay which was absolutely alive with activity.

Pilots were running maintenance checks on their fighters while in the far end of the way a four ship Flight Group of RZ-1 A-wings were staged for launch on a routine patrol about their mothership. They were painted in the livery of dark grey with orange accents and tracing that stood them out as members of Renegade Squadron, a unit nearly wiped out in the most recent engagement with the Sith over Kashyyyk during the dreaded siege of Sovereign and his warriors. The unit was slowly being replenished but for now they were delegated to patrol work. Their launch was a noisy affair as the A-wing Interceptor beheld massive engines and powerful one’s at that.

Roughly in the middle of the bay however, sat the Corellian YT 2000 Light Freighter Talon. Underneath it and standing near the entry ramp stood five broad men clad in sleek armor, all with unique helmets either donned or clasped on their belts, they were tailored with a fine arsenal of weaponry too. Their armor was stylized after the Katarn-pattern, colored a muddy grey. “Sophii,” Ben began as they neared, “meet our Rangers.” Antarian Rangers were typically a Jedi exclusive unit that operated within the means of the Jedi Coalition for the Jedi Coalition. It was regular to see Ranger units within the vanguard Alliance Navy Task Forces as attached assets where Jedi were known to habit.

“Captain Jann,” Ben announced and a tall slender Echani male turned to address him, he had a long braided mane of platinum that was worn in a topknot to easily be compatible with his helmet, with piercing eyes of sapphire blue and a very no nonsense attitude. The Captain bowed to the Jedi Master and regarded the Padawan with a respectful nod, Jann was a man that saw Padawans as the most interesting of all the Jedi for they were often the most brash and daring where Knights and Masters especially were more prone to reaction rather than action.

“Master Kenobi, Team Sword is ready.” With that he turned and made a single chop towards the YT 2000, his four teammates moved swiftly inside the vessel. “We’re at your service.”

“Excellent Captain, we’ll be underway shortly.”

“Are we expecting any more passengers?”

Ben shook his head as he walked up the ramp into the belly of his ship. “No Captain, just us this time. We’re heading into Imperial Space, Felucia.”

Jann sneered, “Good, I’ve got a score to settle.”

Soon as they were set within the Talon, R6 set the ship into the launch sequence, swiftly gaining launch clearance from the Liberty’s Flight Control and as soon as the hangar crew guided the taxiing ship towards the hangar exit the take off was complete and by the time Ben arrived in the cockpit to take over the controls they were clearing the beautifully curved starboard wing of the MC90 and banking around towards the distant hyperbuoy.

As they soared towards the point where their ship would launch off into hyperspace, Ben turned to Sophii, “Head down below to the cargo hold and make sure the speeder bikes are prepped. I anticipate we’ll be needing to move fast once we’re dirt side.” In addition to Ben’s and Sophii’s 74zs, the Ranger team had loaded their own speeder bikes onto the Talon as well. They were certainly geared to move light and fast. Hopefully their precautions were unwarranted… though Ben had a stirring feeling that they were jumping headlong into a situation that would set a dangerous course for them all.

The old Master didn't actually tell his Padawan much more than what had already been said in the meeting room with his response. This served both to show her just how little was known going into this ad-hoc mission, and to show that- at least on Ben's end- there wasn't anything being hidden from allies. One more reason Sophii appreciated finally joining the Alliance forces.

The rest of the way to the hangar, the Jedi remained largely silent. Sophii was busy memorizing the layout of the Liberty's interior and the placement of various onboard facilities, as well as trying to remember everything she had ever learned about the world below. Felucia had a reputation for playing host to one of the most ruthless biospheres in the Galaxy; a dense jungle largely populated by absurdly dangerous plants and uniquely bizarre and hostile creatures. The acklay being one that she sincerely hoped not to encounter on this particular excursion, for it had been rumored to get as large as a starfighter and more heavily armored. Either way, she would definitely need a weapon with a bit more punch than her pistol could provide.

Once they reached the hangar and slowed, the Zabrak gave a low bow to the Rangers as they moved to board the Falcon. Then she noticed Captain Jann and was immediately glad for the meditations she had been practicing with more regularity, for her hearts threatened to race out of control as soon as she saw the towering, indomitable-looking leader of the squad. Outwardly, she stood a little stiffer and watched Jann's face closely as he acknowledged her and addressed Ben. It took a second to shake her captivation, but the Padawan quickly followed the others up the ramp and onto the freighter as they prepared for take off.

"The faster, the better, where we are going," she replied to Ben's instruction with a nod and made her way below to the cargo hold, where the Rangers were checking their own equipment and doing their personal pre-operation rituals. She made brief eye-contact with each man before going to check her speederbike for fuel, supplies, emergency parts, comms and finally turning it on to make sure the controls were responsive. After turning the bike off again and doing the same for Ben's, Sophii sat side-saddle and spent a couple of minutes watching the soldiers go over their gear.

"Captain," she finally spoke up- a little louder than intended- "I have heard enough about where we're going to realize that I will be at a serious disadvantage without the right weapons. Do you have any that I could borrow?"

The words floated to Ordona on the humid air, sailing over warm currents. They seemed almost muffled to her ears, but they were clear enough to be understood. Of course, hearing them didn’t mean she was going to obey. Ordona took a slow, deep breath and lowered herself into the Force, trying to consider her options. There was no guarantee of rescue coming anytime soon, if it came at all. Her mission had been covert, off the books, and was supposed to be a deep enough cover to offer the protections that came with that kind of secrecy.

It was a double edged sword, though, and it meant that if it had been discovered, the Alliance might better protect itself by showing no indication it knew of any such mission. Being disavowed was always a risk. Still, knowing the risk and coming face-to-face with it were two different things. It meant that Ordona had to rely on herself for extraction.

Ordona reached out through the Force, concentrating harder than she had been since leaving the crashed yacht. She spread her awareness back behind the mushroom cap, passing over the myriad of tiny life forms that called the jungle home and seeking something larger.

There.

The closest aura was tinged with something familiar and powerful. It was hardly alone though. Just behind the presence were 6 others, less steeped in the Force, but each boasting a similar strength or determination. It was a sensation with which Ordona was well versed. It was that of a warrior or a soldier.

Most likely Imps, then, Ordona thought, a frown crossing her features. The Force User posed the largest problem. While Ordona was confident in her ability to fight her way out of the situation, there was always a high chance of something going wrong when it came time for blaster bolts to fly. Making her decision, Ordona fixed her helmet back onto her head.

“I don’t think that’s in my best interest,” Ordona called with more than a little sarcasm. “There’s so many of you, and you’re all so big and scary and well armed.” She checked her rifle as she spoke, turning the power setting lower so that she could fire more bolts before the single battery pack ran out.

“What if you just go back the way you came and I just keep going this way? Certainly that’s better for all of us.” If the hostilities started, she would be ready to make her move, but Ordona was hoping to talk her way out of it. Somehow.

Prazutis kept his saber on his belt loop for the moment, not needing it for the moment as the figure that he felt had not engaged. However, at her banter, he could only laugh to himself behind the cold iron that covered his head.
"On the contrary... Say we do leave you be, you wouldn't be here for long. Either you'd be killed by the wildlife and such of the planet, or you would find civilization in an imperial outpost and would be mistaken for an attacker and killed on the spot. At least if you make yourself known to us, you have a good chance at leaving this planet alive." Prazutis folded his arms, observing the presence that he very slowly approached.
"If I had wanted to kill you, i'd have immediately engaged. Let us instead talk for a moment. I won't ask much... only if you have a living master."
The troopers looked at Prazutis, a bit confused by his question. They didn't care about the backstory of this person, they only wanted to apprehend her, and though they couldn't move, as they didn't have a clear visual, they still listened and followed Prazutis.
"Although I am a practitioner of the dark side, I'm no animal. Come, let us speak for a moment. "
The commander looked at Prazutis, narrowing his eyes behind the black and white helmet he wore.
"Sir, are you sure about this? She's an enemy agent, she could be dangerous." Prazutis didnt take his eyes off the aura he watched in front of him.
"I'm dangerous myself, commander. In addition... the Jedi don't engage. Give them a choice to fight, their values keep them from it. At least in this manor, we can keep things... civilized, at least for a while."
The trooper seemed suspicious but didn't dispute the inquisitor's word. He didn't know the man's background, but it did make sense for a force user to know things like this about others like himself.