Post by Rugs on Apr 28, 2019 17:52:57 GMT -5
Satsu
Locke wished he could see he’d never seen fires burn as they did below him. But that would be a lie.
The great inferno roared like an untamed beast through the dense jungles below, clouds of thick, acrid smoke that darkened the midday sky. Such devastation was, sadly, nothing new to the Jedi Knight, who today felt older than his 29 years. Rhen Var, Druckenwell, Muunilisnts. Alderaan.
Taris.
The war had torn the Galaxy apart, with no sign of abating. But, to see placid Ithor caught in its crucible — to see the Ithorians’ sacred forests set ablaze...
“This is disgusting,” he muttered under his breath. The Sith had decided they wanted the world, which sat along a minor trade route. The Republic’s forces were spread thin, between the concurrent wars against the Empire and Mandalorian crusaders, and it was only by luck that a small sector fleet was in the area when the Sith attacked.
Still, the defense wouldn’t hold. The Empire had attacked in force, and the Republic was simply outnumbered, and the Ithorians too peaceful a people to devote their resources to the kinds of defenses necessary to repel an Imperial onslaught. It hadn’t taken long for the battle to shift from one of resistance to one of buying time — to save as many lives as possible and allow the Ithorian herdships that carried hyperdrives to escape.
The Sith had already destroyed several of the great ships and driven one of the Ithorians’ floating cities to the ground as a flaming tangle of twisted steel. It would have been enough, already, to force the Ithorians to submission, but the Empire had pressed on, to the sacred forests. In a horrifying display of power, they’d started to raze them where they met resistance and targeted the few scattered Ithorian settlements that were on the planet’s surface.
As the dropship zipped through the smoke-filled air, harried by anti-air fire, Locke wondered what would be left to save when they hit the ground. They were to set down near a small monastery and evacuate the Oracles who lived within before a Sith advance reached it. The monastery itself was near a Baffor grove.
Locke frowned. It was unlikely the small Republic team would be able to save the sentient forest. Even with two Jedi, he thought, glancing over his shoulder.
“Goal is to get in and out as quick as we can,” he said. The other Jedi, Vahan, was young — about Jazen’s age. “We’ll keep the Sith off the evac team as long as we can, and once they’re airborne we’re outta here.”
He looked over the burning forests as the dropship began to descend. He could hear the world’s suffering if he opened himself to the Force and listened.
“I’m gonna need a drink after all this,” he muttered.
Locke wished he could see he’d never seen fires burn as they did below him. But that would be a lie.
The great inferno roared like an untamed beast through the dense jungles below, clouds of thick, acrid smoke that darkened the midday sky. Such devastation was, sadly, nothing new to the Jedi Knight, who today felt older than his 29 years. Rhen Var, Druckenwell, Muunilisnts. Alderaan.
Taris.
The war had torn the Galaxy apart, with no sign of abating. But, to see placid Ithor caught in its crucible — to see the Ithorians’ sacred forests set ablaze...
“This is disgusting,” he muttered under his breath. The Sith had decided they wanted the world, which sat along a minor trade route. The Republic’s forces were spread thin, between the concurrent wars against the Empire and Mandalorian crusaders, and it was only by luck that a small sector fleet was in the area when the Sith attacked.
Still, the defense wouldn’t hold. The Empire had attacked in force, and the Republic was simply outnumbered, and the Ithorians too peaceful a people to devote their resources to the kinds of defenses necessary to repel an Imperial onslaught. It hadn’t taken long for the battle to shift from one of resistance to one of buying time — to save as many lives as possible and allow the Ithorian herdships that carried hyperdrives to escape.
The Sith had already destroyed several of the great ships and driven one of the Ithorians’ floating cities to the ground as a flaming tangle of twisted steel. It would have been enough, already, to force the Ithorians to submission, but the Empire had pressed on, to the sacred forests. In a horrifying display of power, they’d started to raze them where they met resistance and targeted the few scattered Ithorian settlements that were on the planet’s surface.
As the dropship zipped through the smoke-filled air, harried by anti-air fire, Locke wondered what would be left to save when they hit the ground. They were to set down near a small monastery and evacuate the Oracles who lived within before a Sith advance reached it. The monastery itself was near a Baffor grove.
Locke frowned. It was unlikely the small Republic team would be able to save the sentient forest. Even with two Jedi, he thought, glancing over his shoulder.
“Goal is to get in and out as quick as we can,” he said. The other Jedi, Vahan, was young — about Jazen’s age. “We’ll keep the Sith off the evac team as long as we can, and once they’re airborne we’re outta here.”
He looked over the burning forests as the dropship began to descend. He could hear the world’s suffering if he opened himself to the Force and listened.
“I’m gonna need a drink after all this,” he muttered.