Graves

[Doctor Azure]

Lor watched as a couple of the soldiers around him went to tag bodies. He'd trust science over space-witches any day... But there were more interesting things to do than stand around and tell these idiots off. In the distance, he could hear artillery. Not that far away, this fortress.

The First Order's air support weren't far, either. A large corvette came flying over the horizon, blasting more craters into the ground. The Chiss took a few steps back, getting ready to take off. As his boots powered up, he muttered into his voice control.

"Azure-ekas, heads up."

He grinned with satisfaction as the shapes of several of his modified Destroyer droids flew overhead, towards the ship. He took off, following them and waving at the crowd below.

"Y'all might want to give me some help."​

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Vaet was a young soul. At least relatively young when you considered the others that belonged to his species, but for the first few moments of witnessing that mass grave his features had been devoid of any noticeable emotions. There was a whirlwind of emotions running through his mind: ranging from igniting his lightsaber and assaulting the Final Order’s base himself to collapsing to his knees and cradling himself like he was still a youngster amongst his tribe.

But the Force required more from him, and more it would get.

His brow furrowed in solemness and pondered the implications of what they had just witnessed. Because regardless of what some might think, this changed everything for the Galactic Alliance.

It wouldn’t be seen immediately, but there would be a shift in their attitude and if left unchecked it could lead to the Darkside. This could not- would not happen, too much darkness already ruled over the Galaxy to allow such a noble initiative to lose itself in thoughts of vengeance, retribution and the fires of blood.

“Stop the Final Order, we must.” the Vaetling finally mused to himself, strengthening his resolve for what was to come. “Participate in the assault, I will.”

 

[Jsc]

Graves To Pass The Time
w [member="Kaili Talith"]

Kaili Talith. Kid looked young. It wasn't something Karen usually commented about but seeing as how this was new territory for the NJO? She kinda wished they kept a better rope on their newcomers. Roberts didn't know about "The Covenant" either, so all that new-kids-on-the-block stuff went right over her head too. All she really knew was that it was a damn shame kids don't get to stay kids anymore. Too many child soldiers and half-sized Sullustians blooming up around here. Yep. Damn shame. But what could ya do? War is war. I suppose. She put her phone away and looked to the sky for her air support. They'd drop the probes soon and Roberts could back to doing some real work. Until then she just took a knee and pulled up her sensor map. Reminding herself again that this was a battlefield. Need to stay sharp, no matter the job.

Musing over the map, she still found time to muse the whole affair over. Roberts didn't actually care about this assignment. Documenting mass graves was busy work compared to blowing up fortresses and saving sector worlds. It was really pretty simple when she thought it. She'd come all this way to help out the people she knew from The Underground and try and get this GA started off on the right foot. Which had been easier than expected really. The longer she was here the less and less anybody really needed her services. The GA military was coming along smashingly and the fleet was already assembling in good order. Pretty soon they'd be a Major power in the universe and her job would come to a close. After all, don't nobody need a mercenary company anymore when you've got a real god-given navy behind ya. That, and a brand new Jedi Order all rowdy and ready to go. Gods and men working together to build a new future away from the Sith Empire. Man. Now that was a future she could drink to.

Way to go team.

 

[Peyton Steele]

Peyton swallowed as she looked at she Mirialan. She nodded once and smiled. “I’m---“ Right. She said her name. That was silly. Silly Peyton. Must be the bodies, she hadn’t ever seen that many in one place before. Or maybe it was the girl, Peyton wasn’t quite sure, that and the previous conflict, the head was all sorts of swimming. Her thoughts were disjointed, tired.

Still. “A Jedi? Who are you learning from?” Wasn’t that like… appropriate to ask? She smiled at the question though. “Yeah, no rest of the weary, not yet.” No rest for the wicked either, but she hadn’t been sent west from Gilead, right, wrong universe. She looked at her rifle and then back to the green woman, and the other soldier.

“Yeah… we need to figure out what happened here. Maybe there is some data…” The blonde bit her lip. Would that really answer everything? It could at least give her some information, she could pass that up the chain and they could get to work fixing this issue.

[member="Chevu Visz"]
[member="Rook"]

 

[Relit Vandal]

"What is pain..."​

"A body's response to trauma..."​

"No. It is but a memory you have yet to experience."​

"Master?"​

"Recall pain in your life. Can you?"​

"Yes."​

"No, as soon as pain has been experienced, it passes. You will never recall it specifically, only how it made you feel."​

"I don't understand."​

"That's fine, don't dwell on it."​

​

~~~~​

That cold harsh truth, that early frost. He approached the mass grave, as the rest of the Jedi and Galactic Alliance. Wounded, an injury to the shoulder that he couldn't seem to stretch out, he felt the ache of the initial assault. Weary and wary, the darkside was amalgamating into a disturbing and denigrating aura, spreading outward from the fortress of these oppressors. After all, what more could darkness do, if not impede the light.

He slowly exhaled upon viewing the grave, peering into the mind of madness that would torment and molest bodies into such format. Monsters...evil or good, this was pure sinister act. This, this was evil. And he felt the bile burn in the back of his throat as he barred his teeth, starring off into the direction of the fortress.

"We must not linger..." He wanted to shake the feeling from his core, to be that Master that he always believed he could be. But here, with such a sight, he battled inwardly with the notions of vengeance and revenge. But it was this sacrifice, the one that laid before him, that bolstered his attenuation of the lightside. A beacon in the night. "Their pain is over, we must rectify the action that bore it."

Another group would stay behind. But for Relit, he would engage this enemy in their own strongholdhold. Looking towards [member="Vaet"], the Zelosian nodded. "I will assist in the assault as well."

[member="Aela Talith"] | [member="Chevu Visz"] | [member="Peyton Steele"] | [member="Rook"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"]​

 

[Chevu Visz]

A familiar gravelly voice drew Chevu from the blue-eyed gaze that half-mesmerized her. It was Rook, one of the soldiers that she'd trained with in Coren and Spark's simulator. Interestingly enough, the sea of bodies didn't seem to shake him as much as it did some of the others. Perhaps he'd seen worse. She shuddered at the thought.

"You ready to move, sweetheart?"

An anxious huff of air came. Then Chevu nodded at the man. She turned back to the blonde, a barest of smiles on her lips to meet Peyton's easy grin. "Commander Starchaser has taken me on as a pupil," she said. "Do you know him? His methods are, well...different." She wasn't sure how else to put it. His style of training was informal at best, and dangerous at worst, but he was working wonders with Chevu's powers, drawing out abilities she never knew she could master.

Movement abounded. Eyes flashed to Marshall Talith. They were going to move soon, and Peyton did not have a Force signature. She seemed like a tough cookie, but if they were ambushed by a large number of Sith, the blonde wouldn't stand a chance.

"Want to run with me?" she asked with a shy smile. "Safety in numbers and all that."

[member="Rook"] [member="Peyton Steele"]

 

[Peyton Steele]

The trick with Peyton, she wasn’t a vampire. She was a werewolf, a Star Wars werewolf. Someone who flew a few ships, not very well, but enough, and she was decent with a blaster. As far as mesmerizing anyone? That wasn’t really her thing. The girl wasn’t much of a hunter who needed to feed on others. Her skills, still with power incontinence because this writer didn’t like things too powerful, she was working to do her best to help everyone. Maybe a bit extra in the hearing department, but that came at the head-ache of anytime she tried to concentrate on anything that was the Force.

Running her hand through her hair, she was listening to [member="Chevu Visz"] speak. Starchaser, she knew the name, it was one of those advisors, a Forcer too. Biting at her lip, her blue eyes darted to Chevu as she tired her hair back in a ponytail, but since that was breaking one of the writer’s rules, it became a bun really quickly.

“Can’t be a bad idea.” Blondie nodded and turned her neck to the side until the top two vertebrae popped. That always felt good. “You and me, they won’t know whats going to hit them.” She smiled, and gave a look to [member="Rook"], maybe they should take him too.

 

[Placeholder 0133]

Rook gave the ladies a half-hearted look. He was an attache here - another gun. That was fine by him. It was a role he knew all too well. Without a word, the former Dreadguard slipped on his helmet, and nodded at Peyton. She didn't really know him; neither did the Mirilian, but he would be their gun.

It's what you became when you slipped on the visor. A warrior without a face. A weapon to be pointed at whoever this week's villain was. Sometimes, being that faceless silent protagonist in your own story was a comfort. You didn't have to focus on anything besides the end of a barrel.

[member="Chevu Visz"], [member="Peyton Steele"]

 

[Nikola Ticon]

Unlike some of those present Nikola wasn't quite so easily fazed by the presence of so many bodies, nor did the mass grave elicit an extensive amount of visible emotion. There was no doubt that this was a terrible occurrence that needed to be prevented from ever happening again, but there wasn't any use in becoming excessively worked up over something that could be solved by further investigation and some sense of good old-fashioned retribution. Sure, that wasn't the most Jedi-like thing to do, but then he was far from the traditional sort by any means. Better to get the job done right than worry about what some higher power thought. Anyone that doubted him could just ask his sister.

Sapphire eyes cut to the fortress in the distance, the muscles of his jaw working slowly. That was to be their next target, and he liked the sound of a coordinated strike a lot more than the thought of sitting around and identifying corpses all day. As harsh as the sentiments were, he agreed in that there were better things to do. The only good those dead would do was helping with determining just why they were killed so that the Galactic Alliance might better combat those responsible. Otherwise they would only be grieved over by whatever loved ones had been present in their lives, an affair saved for a time when there wasn't work to be done. Let someone else worry about that mess. He'd rather be on the front lines.

We should be out there already. They were some kind of Jedi, those sensitive to the Force anyhow, and it was their job to prevent things like this from happening in the first place. When they were unable to the next move was to find those responsible and put an end to things. Instead they were standing around, though the news of moving position came down the line soon enough. That was more like it. The only way anything would be accomplished in this galaxy was if someone worked for it. Sitting around and waiting for something to happen would only result in more dust being collected, and hundreds more mass graves such as this popping up even on the most well-defended planets.

Fingertips brushed across the hilt of his lightsaber before his hands found their way to his pockets, and he rocked back and forth on his heels. Waiting around wasn't the most ideal thing, but he held next to no authority here, and so for once in his life would have to actually listen. That should have been a crime. Unfortunately for this lot, Ticons weren't very good at that.

 

[Aela Talith]

Assault The Fortress

So the stage was set. "Alright."

Aela said as she pulled the lightsaber from her belt and began to climb the hill, casting one last look towards the ditch that now lay behind her. A powerful flame had been stoked within her, an urge for payback, vengeance of those that could not exact it themselves. Her braid swung behind her back, scratching lightly at her neck and she threw off the heavy cloak that had sat upon her shoulder.

"Gather everyone and lets move." The command rushed from her, and those that would come with responded almost immediately. "We'll take the south side."

The fortress would already be under assault from the West and the North, if Aela took her contingent from the South they would be able to break through the walls there and make progress to meet up with the others before they entered the keep. Hopefully, the other contingents would already be in place.

She rushed forward, breaking into a sprint.

 

[Chevu Visz]

Chevu flashed Peyton a wide smile, a rare ear-to-ear one. The blonde had an air of confidence around her that was infectious, and was probably an excellent marksman to boot. The Mirialan ran her fingers through her sweat-soaked hair. Yeah, they could do this. Suddenly a crisp order came from Marshall Talith, signalling that they were moving out to assault the Final Order fortress from the south side.

Out of the corner of her eye, Chevu noticed her apprentice, Nikolai who seemed anxious to get going. Nikolai barely had any training, but they needed all the help they could get. The responsibility on her shoulders felt immense. She'd never been responsible for another's life before. Force only knew how fate would test her as a teacher.

"Nikolai," she called, hailing him with a green-skinned hand. "We're moving."

Chevu nodded at Rook, then turned back to Peyton and gave her an uncharacteristic wink. Cutting through the jungle with her lightsaber pommel in a white-knuckled grip, she moved along with the rest of Marshall Talith's team, sharing the steely determination that all the Jedi shared, to avenge these atrocities and set things right.

[member="Peyton Steele"] [member="Nikola Ticon"]

 

[Peyton Steele]

They were going to head on and do this, weren’t they? Peyton was magically wearing her armor now, or was she just wearing it the whole time and no one really noticed? Whatever. She now had a light armor on, compliments of her old OP days, and she had her rifle with her. Magic, space magic and dues ex machina. #DealWithIt. She was glad that [member="Rook"] was around, especially after Marshal Talith gave the order. Orders from a Jedi? Well, these Jedi were a bit different, Peyton could tolerate them.

The blonde didn’t bring her helmet, she was here to snipe, and to do a bit of talking, when it was needed. Peyton turned her head at Chev as she called for someone. Nikolai? Was she reading something wrong here? Or… a wink? That filled Peyton’s cheeks. And she shook her head, taking a deep breath. No one needed to see that.

The girl had a lightsaber. She could lead. Peyton would watch her rear… back! Watch her back! "Seen much battle, then?" She looked to Rook.

[member="Chevu Visz"]

 

[Matron Malgus]

He was late to the party as he always was; it seemed that after countless years frozen in carbonite, that had not changed about him. That was a disappointment in itself, the second disappointment was the lack of memory of his past, he couldn't recall anything from before the carbonite other than the damned Hutts freezing him. It seemed that he had a certain debt to repay someday, but at the moment he would do little to nothing to their criminal enterprise. He was green in all ways that were possible, but his instincts were good, they hadn't failed him yet. That was what he would rely on in the coming days - his instincts.

All creatures had to rely on them at some point, he would just have rely on them more heavily than most, at least until he got a little training under his belt. This was a good place to start, with a bunch of somewhat friendly faces - lots of beautiful ones too. Vibrant, moss-green, eyes took in the various forms of the people present around him.... Yep, definitely lots of beautiful faces, his eyes lingering on some more than others.

It was in his innate ramblings within his own mind that he failed to notice that the group was moving out, and without a second thought, he sprinted after them. Managing to catch up to two very beautiful women. His pace slowed, and his voice took on a friendly tone as he approached them.

"Mind if I join you? Can't say that I'll be of much help, but I don't have anywhere else to be." his tone was matter of factly. There was no sense in trying to beat around the bush, just get to the truth and things would be better off. It was then that his eyes found their way to the other companion, that the green one had spoken too. He was pretty too, almost unnaturally so. If looks could win the fight, he had no doubt that the Galactic Alliance would win without difficulty.

[member="Peyton Steele"] [member="Chevu Visz"] [member="Nikola Ticon"]

 

[Relit Vandal]

Unmarked graves, amassed, left in the distance. In the wake. This wasn't the fault of the Jedi but Relit couldn't help but feel the weight of ownership. In his younger years, he would have remarked on what they could have done differently. Perhaps if they would have caught on to this group sooner, they could have saved these people. Perhaps if they would have done more, less suffering would have occurred. But even now, even without all the wisdom that his age carried, he knew such pondering was fruitless. Like an annual plant, these souls had gone to seed. Silently bowing his head to their sacrifice, in acknowledgment of the pain endured, he whispered inaudible words before moving forward.

"Come, we will need your help..." He stated to the small Jedi, [member="Vaet"] . He could sense a like mindedness and for this effort, the Galactic Alliance would need to be firing on all cylinders. As the Zelosian crested the hill, he withdrew the hilt from his hip but refrained from ignition. He heard the command, they would attack to the South as fire was drawn from other forces on the West and North. The runners move where they find they space.

He gave a singular glance back to ditch, this mass grave, and took solace in the peace they would now find. No more pain, no more hurt. Just the stillness, a breathless wind taking them far away from this place, to never return. Tilting his head, he looked back towards the charging Jedi Marshall and followed in her foot steps. With the force valor at his side, the lightside of the force guiding him and aiding him, he would keep pace with the youthful Marshall for the time being.

[member="Aela Talith"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Placeholder 0133]

Spoiler

Seen much battle? Rook had four hundred confirmed kills during the battle of Naboo! He was trained by the Republic's Rangers and went through hell and back kicking all that ass. He was a god-damned sanctified machine of war; a factory for all those puckered Sith corpses. HE WAS A GOD-DAMNED SANCTIFIED AGENT OF SLAUGHTER. KRATOS DIDN'T HAVE OSIK ON HIM. HIS CQC WAS UNHEARD OF -- HE BEAT OCELOT ON EXTREME DIFFICULTY AT THE TOP OF THE TANKER WHILE SNAKE WAS STILL CRAWLING THROUGH THE MICROWAVE DUCTS! HE WAS PRETTY GOOD! HE SHOT BOSS IN THE FACE AT THE END OF MGS3 AND PISSED ON HER CORPSE. HE DIDN'T CRY LIKE SNAKE THE WUSS; ROOK WAS A MAN'S MAN! THE LORD OF THE CIS GENDER. CAPTAIN OF THE MURDER BRIGADE. HE'D SEEN TOURS ACROSS THE GALAXY AND OTHER UNIVERSES! WAS HE A KROGAN IN THAT ONE MASS EFFECT ROLEPLAY? YOU BET YOUR PUCKERED CHEEKS HE WAS! LOK'TAR OGAR MOTHER TRUCKER. GLORY TO THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE!

...But those were just personal thoughts. Rook had seen a bit of battle in his day, though he was a bit surprised Steele was addressing him. The lady seemed a bit too mesmerized in little Chevu; little being a relative term. Everyone was little to him.

"I've been around the block. It's been an exciting life. Sometimes you're fighting the bathrobe brigade, other times you're figuring out which dress looks better on your god-daughter," He snorted, "Not an easy thing to do."

He would follow along with the two women. It was better to stick with a group -- the smaller the better. Talith said they were going to move, and so they would. It wasn't the first time Rook was taking orders from a Jedi. So long as they were capable, he didn't care much either way. He wasn't the type to hold grudges against an entire religion.

Usually.

[member="Peyton Steele"], [member="Chevu Visz"]

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Aela Talith"]

Near Temple Walls, West Side

Jacen stayed in cover with his fire team, occasionally risking a glance over the cover at the Temple walls. An infantry fighting vehicle from the Alliance slid across the terrain and pulled up alongside them. It disgorged its squad and then floated twenty metres or so away. As the squad found cover, the IFV continued to fire its cannon, hitting the temple walls.

“What’s the situation?”

“The main guns are taken care of,” Jacen replied. “There are still defenders though. One squad got through the breach, but we’ve lost them.”

“Alright. We’re gathering forces for another assault to the south. We’re going to hit them from different sides at the same time, command doesn’t believe they have the manpower to handle it.”

“Understood,” Jacen replied. Sitting around in the mud and waiting was a large part of soldier. As was carrying things. Fortunately as a Jedi Knight, he mostly swanned into situations with nothing but his robes and weapons. Something caught his attention. Small eddies in the Force. He looked to the newcomers.

“Are you alright lad?” Jacen called with a smile. The youth looked shaken, pale.

“Yes sir,” the corporal replied. “We just found something…horrible on the way here.”

Jacen’s senses touched the young man’s mind. Emotion flooded across the boundary. Images of the graves they had discovered. Twisted mutilated bodies with devices protruding from their broken corpses. For just a moment, a nasty snarl crossed Jacen’s face. He collected his thoughts, established his calm. He laid a hand on the corporal’s shoulder. “You’re good,” he said plainly. “Let’s get ready.”

At the same moment, he exerted a small influence through the Force. He soothed the man’s emotions and took the edge off those memories. If only Jacen could do the same for himself. A small voice suggested that cutting down every last adept in the temple, would barely even start to register as recompense for the pain they had wrought.

 

[Roth Tillian]

Roth choked down another cup of caf. Horrible stuff, really, but he had been flying missions non-stop since the siege had begun. Infantry liked to jeer at the flyboys for their easy lifestyles. Roth accepted that. He would too if he was out slogging through the mud all the time. That did mean it was easy in these situations. When things got bad, he'd be the one to go screaming across the battlespace to get them out of trouble, dodging anti-aircraft fire and enemy air support all the while and then bail out the infantry without killing his own people.

His comm dinged and he answered it.
"Tillian here. Scramble time?"

"Negative, time for the final assault. Pull your squadron together to support the assault. Clear out defenses and secure the breach until the main assault forces arrive. We lost a squad there. Try and find them if you get the chance. Launch in ten."

"Understood."

He stood up and dumped the caf out. Didn't need it now. Time for action to keep him awake and the Force to keep him alert. He sent out a message to his squadron to assemble at the flight line, dressed for mixed operations. Those with ground experience went with armor and those without would keep flying. It gave them flexibility but not the most powerful force. Heavy weapons did not fit in an X-Wing's storage compartment with everything else needed to be there.

He pulled his armored jacket from Abregado-Rae on over his flightsuit and hurried towards his fighter, buckling on his gun-belt as he went, checking his Prestige pistol and grabbing a MKII Bolter from the armory rack. His lightsaber was of course still on his belt. Sounds picked up as he entered the flightline. Droids and mechanics were bustling about, arming and preparing fighters for the final assault. He paused as a transport carrying spare parts bustled past him and he resumed his march, stopping at his fighter. An old X-Wing, and definitely still reliable. He patted the hull as technicians bustled around.

Alarms blared. An enemy Corvette had appeared on the battlefield. Roth sprang up the ladder and flung himself into the cockpit as the rest of his squadron sprinted to their fighters. He began start-up procedures, checking that everything was functioning. All seemed clear on his end. Now he just had to wait for the techs to finish their work on the rest of the squadron.

"Our mission is to prevent the corvette from hampering the ground assault, clear the path for the ground assault, and then secure the breach in the Southern wall and hold it until the assault force hits the breach. Secondary is to retrieve and secure the breaching squad we have lost contact with."

His tech gave him the all-clear and Roth sent the fighter up a few meters, guiding it through the flight-line before rocketing up into the sky, with his squadron falling in behind him.

"M1, find that corvette and pull up its specs." The droid whistled in reply and sent data to Roth's screens. He frowned, perusing it. Not something he wanted to tackle in snubfighters. It would be difficult and put the rest of the mission at risk. "We'll do one strike focusing on the corvette's command section. Try to destroy its control capabilities. Then on to the ground force."

"Roger that, following in behind you."

He peeled away from the flightline and set course. "Prime proton torpedoes. Remember, one attack run." He locked his S-foils into attack position and marked the corvette on the holodisplay. "We'll approach from an angle to use its shape as a shield. Accelerate to attack speed."

He sent his fighter to full attack speed and watched as the Corvette grew from invisible to a speck to a large dot to a discernible shape. He adjusted position, listening as explosions and blaster bolts echoed around him. "Shields full front. Lock your target."

He marked the command deck as his target, wincing as its defenses opened fire around him, several bolts rocking his ship as they deflected off the shields. Now it was time for the Force to fly this bird as he slipped from conscious awareness to instinctive reaction. He was the fighter and it was him as he moved, almost danced, in response to the hail of laser fire scorching the air around him.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

A last glance was afforded to the pit. In a way it reflected the pit that had settled itself into his stomach, he wasn’t sure of the direction they were heading - there was so much… grief struck in the hearts of these people and if they weren’t careful that grief could shift to less noble feelings.

Pain, anger, hatred… and finally the Darkside.

It was a real danger, but at the same time they could not just let the Final Order operate unchecked anymore.

Because after that grave they showed themselves to the world, not just as one of the many totalitarian governments operating in the Galaxy, but as an entity that was fueled by pain, suffering and agony. They had to be stopped, and Vaet just hoped that in the meanwhile they wouldn’t lose themselves in the fight.

More could not be asked.

Vaet nodded to Relit, before realizing just how far they would have to go - relatively. He would be half-dead if he was to keep up with them and get there at the same time, so after a moment of thought the Vaetling ran up to [member="Relit Vandal"] and… jumped.

On his back.

“Arrived I have, Master Vandal.” Vaet would say. “Forgive me for the liberty. Short legs, make for slow travel, hmm.”

[member="Aela Talith"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"]​

 

[Aela Talith]

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Relit Vandal"] | [member="Vaet"]

They moved quickly, the ascent of the hill leading them towards the fortress in almost record time.

She came to a halt before the end of the treeline, ducking herself behind the massive trunk of an aged tree. The others quickly followed suite, moving to hide themselves from the guards atop the walls. She peeked out from behind the tree, watching as guards and turrets swiveled their weapons into the open ground below. Her lips thinned, and she began to take account of those defending the wall.

More than two dozen guards and half a dozen automated turrets.

The defenses were less than those to the north, but they were still ample enough to cause concern. She frowned slightly, then motioned to several of the Jedi and a few of the none force using commanders. Aela gathered them together, casting one last glance towards the Southern wall of the temple. "An all out assault would be suicide."

She stated the obvious.

"We take our strongest and get on top of that wall, the rest of the contingent provides covering fire." She looked towards Relit, the elder man who had chased off a Dark Jedi on Sullust. "Thoughts?"

Aela was no military expert, and her plan was beyond dangerous forever went to that wall, but it would keep the rest of the contingent relatively safe while the Masters created an opening. She didn't mind putting herself in danger if others survived.

 

[Relit Vandal]

It's fine. That's what he would have said, if the words were needed. But with his understanding of the small creatures physiology, they needn't waste energy. Preserve it for the future, let those who can run do the running. Even as old as Relit was, he was spry and well conditioned. Guerrilla tactics in the form of a forward contingent, a stranger in every land, he was prepared for the expenditure. A Zelosian ages far different than other species, it seemed.

Placing his hand against the broad trunk, he peaked his head around but for a single moment, before finding grace in the tactical location of the tree. Such commitment in the roots, in the growth, he marveled at the solidarity of the forest line. Like warriors awaiting their opening, they would assist the Jedi now. Willing or not, they would share this load.

"Your plan places the vanguard in the potential line of fire...on the hope that those on the ground distract enemy forces?" He said as he smiled. He liked hope, it was far more empowering then any Sith could imagine. It was the defining trait of the Jedi Order, the precipice at which they drew the line. Hope was good, hope was a gamble, and hope may pay off here. "Yes. We will flank them from beneath." His smile turned into a smirk, as he looked towards Aela Talith. "It's a good plan, I would accompany you." From what he had seen of her actions, he assumed she would desire to lead the charge.

He turned his head to the left, to speak to Vaet who was likely still on his back. "How do you feel about climbing walls?" Such a small figure could not very well draw fire. Likely better to bring him into the fray, fall beneath the cracks and break the floorboards upward.

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Vaet"] | [member="Aela Talith"]