Familiar Surroundings

[That's So Wizard]

Erim had spent the last three years in somewhat of a haze. A haze of paranoia and constant preparedness. Just as they had made some real headway against the Imperials, word came through from the Senate on the highest authority, that all hostilities were to cease. Immediately. She could not accurately describe the bristling tension of the days afterwards, staring across a misty forest at the enemies that she knew were there, the only thing preventing them from firing being an order that neither side could be one hundred percent sure was genuine.

But it was. The war was over.

Yet there had been no celebration when the realization finally set in for the troops. Just bitterness and frustration. You didn't have to be a Jedi to see or feel that. They had taken to cleaning their guns and armour constantly, keeping on high alert and never laxing on their patrols. For three long years Erim had kept her troops there, keeping them drilled and combat ready should the worst happen... only to be called away.

Apparently the Council had other work for her. Erim rarely got frustrated, it was against the Jedi Code to do so, but that night she gave in just a little, tasted that forbidden fruit called anger and what she found underneath the surface horrified her. Had the war really taken that large a toll on her that she would so easily abandon her teachings like that? How could she call herself a Jedi worthy of being a Master if she had been taken up by the heat of the moment?

She needed structure. Discipline. She needed to learn again, to feel in control and not at the mercy of the whims of a far off set of bureaucrats.

---

[ The Painted Witch Arrives ]

Grid coordinates 601-701. Forest environment.

The small ship swooped low towards the treeline; the rather nervous-looking pilot looking back over his shoulder towards his near-silent passenger. Clearly he didn't enjoy not knowing why this mysterious woman wanted to go into the snow-covered forests but the money was good and in these uncertain times, money was getting harder to come by.

Erim reviewed the coordinates again. Grid coordinates 601-701. Due East of a major river. Fauna: Luftgriffs. Flora: Typical arboreal plant life. Known for their resin trees. She could feel the unsettling effect her presence was having on the pilot but the Council had been very clear. Jedi Master Rhissai needed assistance from an experienced tracker in these kinds of climates. Indeed, as Erim looked out over the passing terrain she could not help but feel a tug of familiarity at her heart. The longing to go home, to Atoa.

Snow kicked up as the craft got lower and without warning, Erim dropped. A roll ensured she didn't take any damage from the fall and without wasting any time or movement, she sprinted for the treeline. There, under the cover of the branches and the snow, she was in her element. As much as she called Atoa her home, in reality the sense of calm she felt belonged to the forest. The feel of tree bark beneath her fingertips, the biting cold, the crunch of the snow... She did not need Atoa. She was already home.

She knew where she had to go; towards the river towards the first bend and then east into a large clearing. First though, she had to ensure she would not be caught out by a snowstorm, or succumb to the environs if she had to hide herself in the snow. Erim knew not where the subject of their mission lived quite yet, she assumed that either Master Rhissai would have some information or she would have to track them from scratch. In either case, better to be cautious than reckless.

It is time to conduct the veiðr. The hunt begins. She reached into a small pouch on her belt, dipping her fingers into the dark blue mixture within, smearing a pair of lines with her fingers over her left eye, then one below her chin and the final on her right brow. The eye of the huntress, the awareness of the beast and the aspect of the fang. It was an oath, to find a beast and remove it's pelt so that she may stay warm. The native luftgriff's would do, though using her lightsaber would ruin the pelt.

With a quick gesture a branch of a nearby tree snapped and floated gently towards her hand. Picking up a particularly sharp rock from the ground, Erim spent some time sharpening the branch into a makeshift spear, a less flashy and certainly less effective weapon than the Jedi's traditional saber but certainly more useful at the present moment. Glancing at the position of the Sun, she knew she had plenty of time before the rendezvous was to occur. Besides, she was sure Master Rhissai would prefer a more comfortable way of travelling. It was not like the forest was inaccessible to speeders.

She had time... and she was going to use it to prepare.

[Dire Wolf]

Just over two months had passed since the Jedi Master had set down on one of Vandor's arctic taiga before she realized how incredibly ironic that her trail had gone cold on such a frigid world. Stubbornness gave way to a holo-communique to the council by month one; she would need assistance. Yance Arador had been the name that her C.I. had given her, and Vandor the planet. The icy world happened to be rest close enough to one of the major trade routes to be useful in storing death sticks while Yance ran the storehouse. Yance had run the storehouse, and at first she'd expected the man to stop off at a shop for supplies the woman had no such luck. Expeditions were next, but that ended when her Kod'yok was best by the local apex predator. A few days were spent merely getting back to camp after that one. Speeders required fuel, as did her ship, and she had little desire to waste the fuel of either if she hadn't known where her quarry went to ground.

By the second month she'd taken to sitting in her tent to monitor various sensors, to spot any encrypted communications outbound or inbound, and to watch for incoming and outgoing ships. Thankfully her Confidential Informant had narrowed the storehouse down to their general region. Yet the Jedi Master wasn't built for sitting in one spot for so long, nor did she particularly enjoy being isolated from others. A sigh fell out from her lips while she spent another morning huddled in front of those communicators, occasionally twisting dials. Nothing.

Mounting frustration within the woman's chest lead her to push a noticeably vocal sigh from her lips before rising up from her feet. Only a few steps brought her out from the warmth of the tent and into the surrounding boreal wilderness. Each hand was shoved into a glove before the frigid air could get to her digits, though for the moment she'd leave her face unprotected. Blood rushed into her cheeks and nose at all haste, and the tips of her pointed began to prickle almost immediately, though she'd grown to somewhat enjoy the chill on her face. More than the chill, she'd taken the (slightly) guilty pleasure of the way her face muscles grew stiff in the cold, and the pleasant feeling of warmth in her tent after a long days expedition.

Local fauna squawked and chirped among the trees while she plodded her way through three inches of snow to the short hill where she'd set up the antenna. Jedi Knight Errim Wodkrre had been in transit to Vandor for the past few days, and if the Painted Witch equaled even half the rumors that spoke of her, she'd likely get done in a few days what Rhissai hadn't done in sixty. By the time she reached that antenna array the hood of her parka had been drawn up, protecting her from the tail wind that dogged her steps. The Jedi knelt down brush errant snowflakes from the datapad that served as array's control panel before tapping through various settings.

A whining scream ripped through the coniferous trees of the forest, silencing the avian creatures and sending the terrestrial-bound fauna to scatter. Rhissai's head twisted upwards to see a small craft tearing through the atmosphere to break orbit, though it must be from some distance off. Emerald eyes tracked the ship until it vanished beyond the clear blue sky, and then once again fell back to the panel. A brief moment of excitement set her heart on a quickened pace at the mere sight of another ship; either it was one of the Cartel's, or it was the tracker that the council had sent. No matter the answer to that question, it meant the first real breakthrough in her mission in months. The panel registered the small personal ship to a spacer, and he hadn't even bothered to set down according to the trajectory. Only dip down to the treeline, then make a hard turn upwards to burn atmo until he found black.

Seeing as the vessel was legitimately registered according to its black box, and the knight was due in soon, she put "cartel ferry" distant on the list of likelihoods. The ship might have been too big to effectively land in the forest or on the mountain; her own had only been a Jedi Starfighter. A quick glance back the large tarp that lay beyond her tent showed the vague outline of her vessel beneath, albeit covered in about a week of snow. It was overdue for a telekinetic brush off. Yet again, her eyes fell down to the datapad as though some new information might have appeared; a second ship, a rogue transmission, anything. Seconds passed before she abandoned hope of that miracle, and once again rose to her feet. Vandor's pale star was still in the position of early morning, which would give the Knight plenty of time to do her work once the rendesvous was made. Or they could share a lunch; her tent was certainly big enough and she'd procured enough supplies to feed the newcomer as well.

Long moments were spent scanning the general direction where the ship had been sourced, keen eyes watching as the animals in the forest returned to normal and the birds began their calls once again. Had she not been set on a task, perhaps it would have been a good retreat. Maybe even a good place to live, if there were more people. Alas...

[That's So Wizard]

[ þú Veiðr Fyrsta! ]

She tested the point of the spear on her fingertip. Good enough. A field knife would have done a better job but she preferred to do things in the traditions of her people. This was a test to Erim; a fight against nature once again using only her own skill and ingenuity, to use outside tools felt like a betrayal. This was her form of active meditation, something deeply personal and powerful and it focused her mind. Her master had never really understood it during her training, yet it had undeniably produced results.

Standing from the rock she was sitting on, her eyes passed over the dense woodland. Each tree could conceal a threat, each snow mound a source of food, water or shelter. Suddenly, a howl in the distance. Not far, probably only a few clicks west. Convenient, considering that was the direction she was going anyway. a sharp wave of her hand covered the tracks in the snow she'd made until now, a blanket of snow concealing the light boot prints to all but the most experienced trackers. Erim's body surged for a moment, sending her high into the nearest tree, the Force carrying her up into the air like it was the most natural thing in the world, as if the energies of the Galaxy coursed through her very veins.

From her perch, Erim could see the river far in the distance, as well as a group of dark shadows roaming quietly and slowly at it's bank. Kod'yoks. Their pelts were thick and heavy with fur, perfect for survival but bulky and the smell would attract predators. They must have been drinking from the river, which meant a group of Luftgriff's were probably not far behind, hence the howl from earlier. A much more attractive target. A deep breath filled her body with focus and she began to move through the tree branches like a woman possessed. The Art of Movement. The ultimate combination of Sense and Body techniques. Her movement was not perfectly fluid but it was quick and quiet, darting between the branches like a current of air.

A set of tracks caught her eye and she stopped abruptly, having to swing around the limb of one of the trees to stop herself going too far. Paw prints. Small, many of them. Occasional disturbed patches of snow where a tail would be. Luftgriffs... and from the smell of it, a lot of them, probably an entire pack. She checked the position of the planet's native star again just as it was beginning the upward swing to it's zenith. There was only perhaps an hour before noon, she would have to work quickly.

---

It took her only a short time to find them. Quadrupedal creatures, large fanged maws, shaggy fur but light and it seemed easy to remove judging by the muscular tissue rippling just beneath it's surface. From her vantage point on the branch above them, she counted thirteen, maybe fourteen if they had a forward scout. Luckily she had eliminated her scent using snow and dirt on the way here. Taking on the entire pack would be foolish. Doable, but foolish. A waste of energy. It would be better to isolate a small number of them and obtain the pelts from those; the older specimens trailing at the back of the pack were the best candidates.

So there she waited on the branch for the pack to pass. In fact she waited for them to be almost out of clear sight range before making a sharp whistling sound and dropping from the branch. Just as she predicted, the two beasts towards the back of the pack halted and turned, curious about the sound while the rest of the group continued forward. Not as smart as the similar creatures on Atoa, clearly. Erim began to sprint into the trees, encouraging her prey to follow her. Hounds such as this always seemed to chase fleeing targets, as if there was some instinctual feeling of superiority over something if it ran from them.

Of course, at her normal speed in the thick snow, they would catch up to her before long but she was counting on it. She had scouted a grove of trees on the way here that were densely packed and easy to conceal herself within, it was just a matter of making it there. They may not have been as smart as an Atoan freki but they were equally as fast and were clearly gaining on her. Cresting a snow mound, she used the momentary breaking of line of sight to dive behind a tree, quickly moving between hiding spots to confuse her prey.

Still, they followed her to the grove as planned, in particular a small clearing, where they must have thought they had her cornered. Erim had concealed herself in the thick branches and roots of a willow-like tree, spear hefted and ready as the beasts attempted to track her. An Atoan battle cry rang out. "Tyr! Já!" In one motion the spear pierced the flank of the passing creature into it's heart. Before it had even struck the snowy ground, Erim leaped forth from her hiding spot, tackling the other to the ground and driving the sharp stone knife into it's neck, keeping it there until it stopped struggling.

"Auðsýnn veg." A clean kill.

---

Vandor's star had just passed over the height of it's travel by the time Erim had reached the rendezvous point. A tent and a snow-covered tarp concealing a personal starship. Not subtle. It was likely that if these drug smugglers had any competent trackers among their ranks they already knew Master Rhissai was here; in fact they could even be watching her now. Erim did not step beyond the shadow of the treeline, scanning her surroundings with her eyes, nose and instincts. She could make out a few sets of old tracks on the far side though from this distance it was impossible to determine if those belonged to her contact or to a hostile. Everything else was undisturbed... they were relatively safe, for now.

Finally she moved forward, making her presence known with another sharp whistle. On her shoulders was a mantle of luftgriff pelt, sable black in color with spots of grey; another one was tucked up under her arm, rolled and secured with makeshift twine. Erim stopped a few feet from the tent, speaking in a low tone the codewords she had been told to memorize to make sure Master Rhissai knew who was here to meet her. "The game is lively this time of year. Watch your blaster." She waited for the response, hand hovering over her right thigh, ready to draw her saber at a moment's notice. It was doubtful a group of drug smugglers could overpower a Jedi Master but she had learned the hard way that 'better safe than sorry' was not a sentiment to be dismissed.

"Sæl, vinr!" She called out to the tent, a greeting in Atoan though she doubted the Jedi master would understand her tongue, it was an uncommon one. Her words translated to 'Greetings, friend.', though in a very formal way, as if addressing a stranger. In truth, Master Rhissai was somewhat of a stranger. Like ships passing in the night, neither had really been in the same place for any significant amount of time, though Erim had heard stories. One of the original founding members of the Blades; respected by the Republic Senate and the people.

A kindred spirit, perhaps. Someone who would share her frustrations with the war.

[Dire Wolf]

Alas..

Nothing.

Minutes passed before the Master lost hope of seeing the Knight before their rendezvous; while Erim was no doubt on the planet she had no desire to immediately approach. Perhaps she merely wanted a lay of the land? Regardless, Rhissai pulled the parka's half mask up over her nose before turning back to camp. So long as she'd checked on the antenna, the woman may as well ensure the rest of her equipment was in working order. Shielded cabling had snaked from her tent, beneath the snow, and to the ship beneath that tarp. One casual wave of the hand dusted powdery snowfall from the thick cabling so that she could check for rodent damage; a lesson she'd learned the hard way. Small creatures tended to take to chewing new materials to grind their teeth down, and the cable shielding was just the material for it.

One animal ended with many of her devices out of service for the week it took to procure new supplies from the post that lay about twenty kilos away.

A quick inspection produced no damage to the new cabling; either the rodents had learned their lesson or another simply hadn't stumbled upon her camp, yet. Regardless, another wave of her hand scooped up enough snow to cover the metallic wires and allow her to continue with her work. "Work" was more like it. The woman who always needed to move found it too difficult to sit in one spot, huddled in the cold, over a couple monitors that produced nothing but ghost images and false positives. Yet there she waited, much at the suffering of her mental health, for her sensors to ping something worth while. At least she could start cooking something to eat, for when her guest arrived...

---

A sharp whistle tore the woman from her thoughts, and made her aware of the presence that lay just outside the tent. While it was not especially warm, the sensations emanating from the individual were far from dark. The radiation was also steady and refined, no doubt a person with extensive Jedi training. A smile formed at her lips, yet she stayed within the building all the same. No thought was made to command her lightsabers from their place at her belt, certainly not after she heard the codewords: time, watch. Simple passphrases may have been just that, but there was a reason they'd been used since before things were recorded on stone; they were unbreakable. Her lips tugged apart in a slight smirk. Now for hers, "I'm afraid I've not seen any near base. I think it's the smell."

Rhissai hadn't needed to speak the language to infer at what the woman said as she emerged from the speeder sized tent to regard the painted woman before her. A pair of pelts, one beneath an arm and one over her shoulder, lay in her grasp. "Hello. I'm glad you made it here safe, come in," the tall woman stepped away from the door while still keeping a firm grasp on it, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Knight. I'm Master Arckan, but you can call me Rhiss. I've made lunch."[/color] True to her word, the scent of seared poultry wafted out from the warm structure. Beside the cooked Luftgriff lay a few of the various fruit she'd picked up at the Trading Post during her last trip there. Two plates rested on a fold-out table, as well as a second cot.

"Thanks for coming out. I've heard good things about you, from the war," a thin smile found her lips, "I think, with you here, we might actually start to make progress."

[That's So Wizard]

'Afraid'. 'Smell'. This was the woman she was looking for.

The irony of the Jedi Council assigning a code word like 'afraid' felt like a bit of a cruel joke, though it wasn't in Erim's nature to laugh very often. Master Arckan was tall, well composed and clearly experienced in warfare, just from the way she carried herself. It was obvious she had seen things no person should see, least of all someone like a Jedi. The fact that she hadn't lost her way yet was remarkable; considering Erim almost lost her way a few times in the storms during the war... well, she wasn't so confident she'd have been able to do the same.

She gave a quick nod to Rhissai's offer to step inside, her dour expression as always present. Someone unfamiliar to her would think she was always miserable or aloof, a fact her Master had noted before. It was why she was not often selected for diplomatic missions; no one wanted to negotiate with a woman they thought would rather not be there. In reality Erim had simply taken the Jedi ideal of detachment to heart and her experiences in the war and the wild had deadened her desire to mince words. Idle chatter back on that forest planet had been the death of many troopers, it had eventually become something she had to drill out of them.

"Knight Erim Wodkrre. Call me whatever you wish." Her accent was thickly Atoan, as Basic was not her first language by any means. What would be written as a W turned into somewhat of a V or 'wh' sound and often emphasis was placed on syllables rather than letters in the middle of words. It made her language rather stunted and jarring for long conversations with the likes of Alderaanian noblemen but rough and effective for wartime orders. When she commanded something, people tended to listen.

Not one to refuse food, especially considering by this time in a hunt she'd generally be eating small larvae, bugs and more perishable meats, Erim began to eat. Quickly and efficiently, eat bite taken, chewed a set number of times and swallowed without fanfare. Everything she did was designed to get the most out of the meal in front of her.

Rhissai's knowledge of her conflict was both surprising and not; they had been fighting on some nothing planet far away from the battle lines, far away from regular supply drops and out of contact with the majority of the Republic. In fact it had taken several days for the transmission that the war was over to even reach them. Yet Rhissai was clearly high ranking within the military, it made sense she would be aware even of the smaller conflicts. "Good things about me? I do not doubt their intent but such words leave a bitter taste. I failed my mission, Rhissai. It is not a failure I intend to forget any time soon."

Her words were by no means meant to be confrontational or admonishing, in fact there was a certain sense of peace behind them. She had accepted her failure long ago, now it was just a matter of learning from it. She reached beside her, gripping the pelt she'd made from the luftgriff, planting it next to Rhissai's seat. "You will need this. Clearly the Jedi master had brought appropriate clothing already but such a light pelt was such an invaluable piece that not wearing it in such conditions was foolhardy. Plus, it would disguise the fact that they were Jedi and not some roaming band of wild women. People tended to underestimate 'primitives', all the easier for Erim to draw them into a trap. "I suggest not using your ljósverð-... Excuse me, lightsaber, unless absolutely necessary. The less information our enemies have about us the better; waving around bright glowing swords draws attention." Erim paused, taking a bite of one of the fruits and finding it sweet but tough, not surprising for a planet this harsh.

"Tell me what you have found of their movements, disposition, habits, location. Anything you can give me is a starting point." Taking one of the luftgriff bones she split it open, using one side to scrape the marrow from the inside of the other, then vice versa. No piece of this meal would be wasted.

[Dire Wolf]

Immediately, Rhissai realized, her own warm and welcoming demeanour had sharply contrasted with that of the chilly and stoic Erim. Though the nature of most Jedi hadn't been far off from the archetype of detached monk, and she couldn't imagine anyone with the Knight's history could be close in countenance to herself. Regardless, the Jedi Master allowed the plasteel door to her tent to close behind the Jedi Knight before sitting across from her at the small table. "Erim," she repeated the woman's given name with a small nod, as though to confirm the Knight's name in her own psyche.

While the Knight set to methodically and mechanically devouring the morsel of Luftgriff, Rhissai moved a single finger to and fro. The succulent meat seemed to take on a mind of its own, only wriggling a moment before plucking itself from the bone. There it hovered, steam still rising from its surface, as little more than pressure tore piece after piece from the main cut before lowering back to the plate. Each piece would be taken between two fingers to be properly enjoyed; food was damn near the only thing to enjoy out here. Though she listened to Erim respond to her greeting.

"There's more to failure than succeeding or not,"[/color] was bitterness creeping into her otherwise warm tone? "You were given next to no supplies to fight on a hellish world against a numerically and technologically superior force." Finally, Rhissai lifted her eyes up to meet the skyline, "And your men didn't crumple like every other detachment. You persevered. You would have won, if congress hadn't lost their will." The final sentence was delivered with a sigh of resignation and a tone bitter enough to sour her food. There was no greater failure in the galaxy than Rhissai, who'd sacrificed the blood of thousands of her kin at the altar of... nothing, as it turned out. Not victory, nor liberty, had been seen for those worlds who lay on the wrong side of the battle lines when the armistice was signed.

With Rhiss' appetite utterly lost, yet the looming threat of an active day ahead of her, the Master reluctantly continued on with her food. What was once an attempt to enjoy her admittedly marginal cooking had become much like Erims, mechanical and hasty. The bones were left alone, though; marrow had never been a thing Rhissai consumed unless necessary. Her homeworld had confirmed that fact for her. The woman had narrowly finished before she was handed a pelt big enough to break up her silhouette while also provide additional thermal insulation. Both would provide useful in the hunt to come, no doubt; Rhissai once again nodded and muttered thanks. "There'll be no need for my lightsabers," the trio were well concealed beneath her parka, and would be easy enough to retrieve with telekinsis if the time came. While they were useful enough to hunt, the woman hadn't activated them in some time with Erim's exact logic in mind. Besides, if a true scrap came to them she could accomplish far more with her mind than simple combat.

"It's been a maddening few months," she sighed, no small amount of embarrassed, "a reliable confidential informant lead me here, to this specific region, but I've found nothing. Neither hide nor hair. I suspect that the cache is mobile somehow, but I've not seen a ship approach on the monitors or in the skies. I haven't even felt anything with the Force." She shook her head, "This whole thing has been a quagmire from start to finish, and any help you can provide will be appreciated."

The Jedi Master tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before falling against the back of the plasteel folding chair, the temporary seat making a slight creaking noise with the shift of her weight. Both a boon and bane about being ranked so high in the order was that your assignments tend to run so long, and they range across all sorts of situations and planets. Bane, in this case, because Rhissai was so far out of her element in tracking that she'd wasted two months hunting for ghosts in the snow. Well, she supposed, now I have a ghost of my own.

[That's So Wizard]

She didn't say anything to Rhissai's comments about the war at first, leaving a slight hanging silence. It was not a topic Erim was comfortable discussing at length. She had failed, that was it. A flaw in her command was enough to tip the scale of the battle in the enemy's favour and she would have to do better next time. There was no discussion to be had on the matter. "We were hours from winning, Rhissai. Hours, not days. Had I commanded my men forward just a few hours earlier we would have control of that world." Those words hung in the air like the stinging cold, prickling like daggers across her skin.

Just a few more hours.

The words she'd heard in her dreams so many times back there, just waiting for the enemy to break the truce and attack. Just a few more hours and she would have broken them. Maybe the war would have been so much different if she'd just ignored that command to stand down... if she'd just pressed forward and dealt with the consequences later. A small snarl escaped her lips at the thought, before she bit it back with a deep breath. Now wasn't the time to dwell on the past, they had a task to complete.

Nothing? Not a thing? That was concerning. If they were here, they would not escape her but this would take a lot longer with no clear leads to go from. Yet, perhaps they were thinking about this too conventionally. No ships had approached this position and in her search Rhissai had found nothing; which meant they were using a method of transport that would not show up on ground to air scanners. "In that case there are two possibilities. They are not transporting via air, which means it must be by ground or water."

She pulled forth her holocom, projecting a map of the area she'd been given. "Only water transport would be via the rivers. It would be difficult to track but the flow of the rivers go in a single direction, there are only a limited number of places they could be." The map swiveled to indicate the points along the trail where they could have set up their camps. "Transporting that amount of material by land would require large convoys of vehicles; vehicles too big to move between the trees. If they are moving by land, they are using routes relatively clear of tree-life and cutting trails through thinly-populated areas."

Erim paused for a moment, thinking on other possibilities. The surface had been relatively clear from what she'd seen in the ride down, though from that height it would have been hard to determine any fresh camps or cleared woodland. "They could also be using underground tunnel systems. I have not heard of any such system existing on Vandor but it is a possibility we cannot dismiss out of hand." A lot of options there, it wasn't surprising a Jedi with no experience in tracking would miss these and it was rather clear why the Council had brought her back from the front.

...No, there was no front anymore. She shouldn't be thinking like that.

[Dire Wolf]

Silence had fallen between the two women after Rhissai had remarked on failure and just how much a former superior found Erim's performance wanting. Rhissai had briefly considered adding to her words, yet any she could conjure felt hollow. Empty like the filler used in low quality meat. Though the Jedi of 60 years and numerous wars found no serious fault in Erim's measure, she found several in her own. Before Rhissai could find any words of substance, however, the woman spoke again. More facts she was well aware of, and a truth that must have been only more painful.

As before, any words that immediately came to her from the aether fell upon her tongue like sawdust in a shoddy baker's bread. Rhissai had felt that kind of failure, though not when victory was so tantalizingly close. How this woman remained with the Order escaped her, as Rhiss herself had been mere moments from handing in her sabers when word reached her of the armistace. The Jedi Master had forced the bitterness from her voice, so that the calm and warmth could return. "It's easy to look back at your actions, knowing their outcome. All I can say is that you seem to have learned from your hindsight, and when this war breaks out again -- and it will -- you'll be stronger for it. Instead of winning one world, you'll stand to liberate several."

Time would take their conversation elsewhere, though. Keen eyes scanned the region that Erim's holographic projection depicted, the same map that Rhiss had memorized after hours of study. Many of the thoughts that Erim had loosed had crossed by Rhiss' mind, except for underground tunnels. "If they were transporting cargo terrestrially, I would know it. My instruments are keen to speeder usage as well, and that amount of machinery upsets living creatures on a large scale. I would know by now, one way or the other." The woman frowned, "Marine travel might be likely; archaic forms of travel wouldn't be easy to pick up on my scanners. They don't require repulsors or the same type of identification."

"A cave system is interesting. Any systems in use would have to be artificial, like you implied, which wouldn't be unheard of for operations like this. It would also be far easier to hide their cache that way, as well. And pilot vessels out of gaps in sensor coverage, no matter how small." The woman leaned forward, eyes scanning that projection with a renewed sense of vigor, as though this new information might allow her to divine some new scrap of code from the hologram that was previously hidden. Without turning her eyes from the projection, Rhissai spoke with a more determined tone than before, "Finding gaps in sensor coverage would be near impossible, and more time consuming for a team of people than it would be for two, to go out and look for tracks."

Finally, her eyes fell down to the Painted Witch, "that's if the Republic Outpost isn't in Cartel pockets. So. What do you say?"

[That's So Wizard]

Those last few words when speaking of the war intrigued her. She didn't say anything to acknowledge it, remaining silent as she twirled one half of the luftgriff bone between her fingers just to keep them busy. When the war began again, which she was so certain it would, would Erim be leading from the front again? She didn't feel that was where she was most effective. No, she was good at training troops, drilling them until they were experienced woodsmen and guerrilla fighters.

'Liberate several'... Perhaps her place was more with the resistance fighters on Sith-occupied worlds? Organisation, training, logistics, foraging, tracking, stalking enemies, hitting them where they were most vulnerable; these were her specialties. If she could impart her knowledge onto those resistance forces it could provide a number of soft targets for Republic forces along the frontier, or delay or redirect troops from those frontier worlds. The cost would be lives... but that was always the cost of war. As much as she hated that sentiment.

Time passed and the two returned to their planning; Erim listening attentively to Rhissai's suggestions. No animal disturbances, no large swathes of forest being cleared, no ground tremors from large vehicles- Wait, that was it! Without a word she pulled up the map again, zooming in on the nearby river and examining the spots along it that were most likely to contain a base... or perhaps the entrance to a base. "Looking for tracks is all well and good but it is knowing which tracks to look for that is the trick." She pointed to a number of the points on the map downstream, stopping short about half way down.

"Ground travel would disturb wildlife en masse but water travel would only discourage animals from drinking at the river's edge; it would unnerve them enough to move further upstream. Here-" Erim indicated the point where she'd stopped before, where she'd seen the kod'yoks drinking from the river on the way. "If we can find the furthest point upstream where kod'yoks go to water themselves, we will most likely find our base at the next likely position along the river bank." Whether or not the entrance was easy to spot was another matter entirely however. Even if it was, kicking the door down and eating blaster fire was probably not the best plan. A few ideas came to mind for that; which she stored away in the back of her mind for later.

Rhissai's question didn't get an immediate answer from Erim, who regarded her for a moment, before dipping her fingers into one of the pouches on her belt. With her fingers she painted a line along her cheekbone in black, through the previous vertical blue lines that has since dried. "Mín veiðr ise mín líf. Mik gorr su andask." She didn't explain what that meant, simply staring into the snow for a moment, before giving an affirmative nod to her companion. "We should leave in a few hours. Kod'yoks, like most animals, drink their fill when this planet's sun reaches it's zenith. Which is when luftgriff packs are also most active. Afternoon is our best bet to follow fresh tracks." With that said, Erim took the time to clean the stone knife from earlier, melting the snow in her hand and using the resulting water to clean it.

Such tasks kept her mind in the moment. This was relative luxury compared to what she usually found herself living in yet she could not forsake any free time. Every second in cold environments was life and death.

[Dire Wolf]

Their words over war and conflict had fallen silent over their food, and the Jedi was equal parts thankful and disappointed. So few of her kind had been as open to speak on it, and the dangers that faced the galaxy due, yet speaking at length on a dead subject had also threatened to open up several old wounds for the woman. The Jedi were so happy to embrace peace at any cost that they hadn’t stopped to consider what that ‘peace’ might cost to the people they swore to protect. Peace wasn’t merely the absence of conflict; peace was the presence of justice. Jedi were peacekeepers, and they’d grievously failed the day that the armistice was signed. Perhaps, one day, that failure would be rectified. Erim would be a part of it, too. So would many other Jedi who felt the same as the pair.

Food and reminiscing soon gave way to planning and brainstorming; that manner of conversation was just as welcome. Nearly two months had passed since the distinctly outgoing woman had shared in a conversation with another person, and she was doing her best to make sure it hadn’t shown. Erim didn’t seem like the type to enjoy an effervescent old Jedi who just enjoyed conversation. Some ideas were traded to and fro, but Erim was quick to take over the projection to look for her own idea. Investigating water transportation had been an idea that Rhissai had dismissed, thinking it impossible to find tracks even seconds after missing one of the boats. Instead, she decided, it may be best to take some survival lessons at the temple once all of this was over with.

Rather than speak to the woman’s brilliance in this, Rhissai merely nodded at Erim’s hypothesis. Rarely did Rhissai consider her barbaric peoples or their old axioms, but one seemed to stick out in that moment; Speech is silver, silence is golden. Hardly original, but her people weren’t known for their eloquence or creativity. Ironically enough, they were known for their ability to survive in a hostile world without technology. A huffed scoff fell out of the woman after that, who sat back in her chair to further watch the map as though it may divine her some insight. Her people would mock her now, if they could see her. ”With any luck, the entrance is relatively unguarded. That’s a problem we can solve when we get to it, though.”

The Jedi had seen one or two prayers in her life. Prayers to Ashla and Bogan. Prayers to the wretched gods of her people. Prayers to others. Prayers to the Force itself. When Erim seemed to drop her eyes and speak in her mother tongue, that was as good a prayer as any Jedi might possess. Rather than continue to move, out of respect, the woman allowed the moment of silence to come and pass until Erim regarded her once again. ”That actually works out well. I have a bit more data to chew through, just in case the Force was merciful and they decided to get sloppy today.”

They didn’t get sloppy that day.

[That's So Wizard]

As they waited, Erim couldn't help but glance towards the Jedi Master in sadness. She knew what scars the war had given her, she knew what they felt like. Yet seeing it from the outside on Rhissai was... hard. A part of her wondered if even this mighty Jedi had questioned the Code, just as she had done. Were the Jedi right? Was she fighting for the right side?

Was there even a right side to fight for?

She had finished sharpening the luftgriff bones into makeshift knives, sticking them into loops on her belt. Some explosives would make this operation go a lot faster, especially if the facility was some kind of bunker. Not exactly the Jedi way to do things, nor really her style but if they wanted efficiency and ease that would be the way to go. Unfortunately, to her knowledge, they had no explosives. Unless Rhissai was a capable improvised bomb maker, they'd have to rely on their own skill.

The light streaming in through the tent had gently turned from white to a brilliant, fiery orange as the angle of the sun lowered on it's axis. Rising to her feet, Erim peered out of the tent opening, regarding the treeline with the eye of an experienced hunter. The river was west of here, it was likely the kod'yoks had dens deeper in the forest where it was warmer, as the humidity around the river would translate to a lower temperature at night. Which meant that so long as they were heading west, they were unlikely to run into any luftgriffs. A small mercy.

"We will have to be quick. The temperature is going to keep dropping the longer we are out here." She addressed the tent behind her, not taking her eyes away from the treeline. Perhaps she was paranoid, seeing things that weren't there or imagining enemies in the trees, giving these spice runners too much credit. However, it was better to be over-prepared than under. The words of her master ran through her mind for a moment: Never assume stupidity; only take advantage of what it presents in the moment.

"Do we have any indication of what we can expect to deal with when we get there?" Erim spoke as she walked towards the western edge of the treeline, not running because it'd make too much noise and waste too much energy. If they were expecting to get into a fight at this bunker, it would do no one any good to fall tired or get sloppy. "How did you track them here, are they maybe part of a larger gang?"