They Love War

[Subject 37]

Togoria

A brisk wind pushed at his cloak, the torrential press of air nearly threatening to disrobe him. He shook slightly, drawing the garment closer and making sure that it did not float away. He half shifted, observing through the macrobinoculars as far off columns of military forces began to move forward. His eyes set upon them, scanning them and searching for some kind of identifying markers. Vaguely he recognized one of the banners, an associate of the Sith that sat at the core of the galaxy. Artanis studied it for a moment, the formations and how their forces moved.

He frowned for a moment, regarding his companion as he spoke. "They are headed north."

She would know that already, always did.

"We should follow." His words were terse, quick, as they always were. He had never been one for conversation, even among those whom he would call friends. His eyes peeled away from the macrobinoculars refocusing on his companion as he looked to her. She was the wiser of the two, the more cunning. "See where they go and observe the eventual clash with the enemy forces."

It was the intelligent thing to do, albeit more dangerous. "I doubt they'll notice."

War was a busy thing, and a few observers following your regiment was not something that most would actually be able to find, especially when it was Artanis and his companions. There was no concern in him of confrontation with the forces before them, at least not in any major regard. They weren't here to fight after all.

Just watch.

 

[Bestala Vizsla]

"There's no need," answered Bestala.

Standing next to [member="Artanis"], Bestala used the built-in macrobinocular feature of her helmet to observe the Sith troops. She was dressed in full Mandalorian armor - appearing to be a mercenary among the Battle of Togoria.

"I don't think you've seen much, right?" rhetorically asked Bestala, "So if you really want to..."

"But I've seen enough," she continued, "No matter the battle, it's all the same."

 

[Casteel Mer'taal]

[member="Artanis"] [member="Bestala Vizsla"]

Her dark gray cloak fluttered in the wind, forming over her body, its hood hiding the young woman's olive facial features from sight. She wore a supple dark brown leather robe that hung over a tunic of slate gray cloth. The fabric shone with a faint iridescent blue tint as it caught the light, yet it was not as ornate as the silver threaded under-tunic beneath. A tanned belt hung low over her hips, with a gunmetal electrostaff in her grip.

A sudden gust of wind whipped the fabric of her cloak off of her face. Long chestnut braids were freed from their cloth prison, tossing loose tendrils of hair across her face, their bronze highlights glinting in the waning afternoon light. Tiny, spherical shape silver beads were interwoven in several plaits of rich chestnut tresses. Her oval shaped face could now be seen clearly. She was of dusky skin with a curious tattooed Kasha jewel inlay in the middle of her forehead in the form of a constellation. Yet the most startling feature were her eyes. They were a pale grey, the hue of moonbeams. Stark against the olive of her skin.

Almond shaped eyes bore down the cliff-side at the distant horizon, where the war machine of the Core Worlds would advance against another entity. Dark funnels of smoke broke the twisting valley, and flashes of past and future melted together in images of ruins with fire licking their sides, burning away the remnants of one of several Togarian villages.

What she saw there went beyond what lay within reach.

"We head north." her husky rasp would confirm, despite of the Mandalorian counter. What lay there within the depths of those ice grey orbs were soon shadowed by the flick of her wrist as the hood fell over her head anew.

There were hundreds of questions amidst the haze of answers. Clarity would take its slow, measured steps. They would wipe away the haze, draw forth the truth and separate the chaff from the grain.

 

[Subject 37]

@Soah @Bestala Vizsla​

​

So North it was, despite Bestala's objection.

Artanis shifted slightly, the wind catching his cloak once more as the howling gale threatened to throw the three of them into the sky. Togoria certainly was a windy world, but then again compared to his home that could be said of many planets. He frowned for a moment, then half turned towards his companions, letting the macrobincolulars settle at his side within his palm. He did wonder for a brief moment if those below were ready for what was to come, if they knew.

"It is our mandate." Artanis said flatly as he strolled passed the two women.

The speeders that they had brought were as covert as could be, small things with dampened repulsors, they could zoom through the forest without echoing like screaming banshees. That was important given the movement of an army below them, and army that was more then ready to fight anything that came at them. Artanis moved towards one of the speeders, pressing his thumb into the ignition and letting the engine settle for a moment before he climbed upon the bike.

"We'll follow their path until we are within a kilometer." Artanis explain, laying out the plan to Soah and Bestala. "Then branch off to the east so they do not suspect. We'll find a vantage point once we move far enough."

 

[Casteel Mer'taal]

[member="Artanis"]

No words were required to be said thereafter.

Their path would lead them north. Being a small trio, they were able to do their best at keeping a low profile. Ahead, one would see a vast clearing. Some form of courtyard. Ducking low, with her electro-staff held perpendicular to the ground, Soah would ensure that she would keep a low profile. Her olive face gave a slight squint, and the Force drew within her like a breath. Enhancing the senses allowed her to take in just a bit more detail with a bit more clarity.

The overwhelming stench of ozone permeated the air while faint discharges of excess lightning bounced across the courtyard. A woman flung a cone of telekinetic energy at a mountain of a man. The fight was vicious, only to result in a telekinetic burst that wound send anything near vicinity flying away like a ragdoll.

The amount of Force power was enough to draw any Force sensitive. Internal mental cues that brushed images and shadows dancing within the mind. Key figures. Prominent forms. All pieces of the greater puzzle that they had to build for the greater picture.