What's Seen in the Dark

[Rolth Wygraant]

He looked down at the silhouette extended to her in sharp focus. He couldn't see much, but he knew what was being offered to him. Captain s'Ilancy was obviously supremely confident in her situation, and didn't consider him to be a threat to her. Which, admittedly, he wasn't yet. Capturing a rebellion leader and Jedi would certainly be nice, but by that same token he'd love to have a hundred million credits and his own skyhook over Imperial Center.

Reluctantly, Wygraant took the weapon, fingers moving in the dark to inspect by touch.

"Agreed, though we should remain out of the open. The Umbarans are far better suited to seeing in this than we are."

It was night on the planet, but even in the 'day', there would be little light to be had.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I don't suppose you're inclined to climb a few trees," came the rhetorical question, as she sent her gaze right and left.

He was right though, in that the less exposed they made themselves the better their chances.

She sighed in annoyance. More out her current situation than anything else. Being here, on Umbara, much less in the company of Captain Rolth Wygraant, was not exactly on her list of things to experience. But, the Lupine was determined to deal as best as she could.

To that end, s'Il gave a nod to the direction behind him.

"We'll go deeper into the forest, then."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"A short term solution, Captain. We should already be focusing on our next step."

Taut-lipped, Wygraant pushed on.

"A pity we didn't crash during the day cycle. Anything of value in our ships may have been easier to see and salvage. Communication equipment, for example."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Yes well, nothing we can do about that now. And frankly, until the day cycle begins, short term solutions are the best we have."

Not exactly in the lead, s'Il made sure to stay somewhat beside him. The last thing she needed was a pistol grip to the back of her head.

Navigating through the trees was tricky, but she followed the Force, and where it told her to go.

"It's a good bet that whatever transponders were sending out beacons are going to be dismantled in short order, so I'm not counting on either of our people to be along anytime soon."

A huffed breath, as she paused in the act of taking another step. Ripples of warning reverberated through her senses, and a reflexive hand went out to clamp down on the sleeve of his uniform, pulling him to a stop. She angled her head upward, scenting the air. It wasn't the smell of Umbarans; rather, something else. Something wild.

"Something's up ahead."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Then we go around." Wygraant stated simply. His fingers curled around his blaster, eyeing what he could see of his surroundings. The path they were on was narrowing, and the vegetation thickening.

"That is, if there's a way around."

It was becoming increasingly frustrating that he was having to rely on s'Ilancy to be his eyes.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Shut up," she hissed back, slowly lowering into a crouch while pulling him down with her.

Impatience fueled her now. Impatience and hunger. Her body had starved itself in its' efforts to heal the wounds she'd taken during her shuttle's crash landing, and she needed more than the meager ration supplies she'd brought with her.

"I only have two ration bars," her voice was hushed, "... and I don't know how long we'll be here... "

A pair of bioluminescent green eyes blinked into existence, then, not too far ahead. They blinked slowly before a haunting, low call sounded. She searched her memories for the stories that the Clones had told to her, trying to remember in as much detail as possible their descriptions of the terrible things they'd experienced here. The keening call became an almost mournful sound.

"Banshee."

The word was spoken quietly, as she slowly released his arm. There was no need to slide her carbine into any sort of firing position, as she knew it would do no good against the creature. Rather, her saber gauntlet would be the tool to use. But, not now. If there were more than one, she didn't want to expose herself too soon.

A small growl sounded, her stomach demanding sustenance of any kind. A frown, and she carefully slid the travel pack from her shoulder, slowly turning it over and placing it in his hands. The Lupine turned her head to look in Wygraant's direction.

"Stay here. If you run, I will find you."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Precisely how long do you plain to remain here?" Wygraant asked with a degree of annoyance.

"Having a go at the local game risks giving up our position or worse. We already have the Umbarans after us. Hunting dangerous game seems an invitation to disaster."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a word that Zem had once used, long ago, to describe her current state of mind in the here and now.

Hangry.

She could still recall hearing the slight amusement in his voice, despite her own frustrations being so very close to boiling over at being unable to eat.

In this case however, her hunger was necessary. A ration bar could only provide so much, and could only refill her depleted reserves to a certain point. If she was not fully sated, the chances of their survival were further diminished. Her body needed to be returned to its' normal levels.

To that end, the Lupine gave him an unseen scowl, her brow furrowed in growing annoyance of her own.

Another moment passed, and she carefully rose, slowly moving forward in deliberate motions.

The glowing green orbs blinked, then turned to look in another direction as she continued onward. Three more steps, and she was ten paces from the creature as it shuffled about on the forest floor. It was small enough, possibly a juvenile. Or at the very least, a small adult. Either way, she ignored the idle thought. Her saber gauntlet remained dormant, as she crept as near as she dared. A twitch of her fingers, and the banshee stiffened, lifting its' head up sharply to gaze away from where she was approaching from.

And closing her eyes, s'Il bolted forward, the twin orange blades bursting to life a split second before stabbing through the creature's lower jaw and up into its' brain.

[Rolth Wygraant]

The first time his eyes had been surprised by the sudden change of light in the dark. This time, Captain Wygraant was ready. He looked slightly away, keeping s'Ilancy in his peripheral vision. There was a brief flash of lightsaber and bioluminescent creature, but it was over just as quick. Peering over, Rolth could recognize the outline of some manner of flying alien. It's contours, like more than a few plants and other creatures in the wilds of Umbara, had some degree of bioluminescent accent. It was less apparrent to his untrained eyes, but Wygraant imagined that the creature would have been able to view its world in full vivid colors. Or, would have before having a lightsaber shoved through it's cranial cavity. The smell of burned flesh came to Wygraant's nose easier than light did in this dangerous place.

"A success then, I take it.?"

That was one half of the coin. The other half was good shelter. Slipping the stormtrooper helmet on that he had previously used, the Imperial Captain gained a few dozen meters of visibility. He began to explore left and right of their path, keeping his eye open for anything advantageous.

"I suppose we'll be making a fire for that thing. Best to find a cave that can conceal it."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She mostly ignored him, lost in the moment of examining her prize, so to speak. A cursory sniff yielded a whole heap of 'not much', and s'Il let out a string of low cursing.

"Na'anaro kheh'sumeh," she muttered, one hand sliding across the carapace of her kill. She tested the hardness of the shell, feeling along each intersecting joint before settling on a weak spot. Again her saber flared to life, though only for a moment as she cut away one of the large pincers. It was large enough to feed the both of them at least, and with another string of unintelligible words, the Lupine clutched it tight. She stepped back, away from the carcass.

A long, exhaled breath, then, as she lowered into a crouch, twisting her upper half to afford her a murky view of Wygraant. His body was a stuttering shape, illuminated only by the ever-changing etched lines of his presence within the Force. But, it was enough to show her that he'd put on a helmet of sorts. If it gave him any sort of sight advantage, she was at least willing to concede to him that. Though, she still afforded him an impatient glare. The beginnings of a headache were forming, and rather than attribute it to the console panel that'd whipping into the side of her skull, s'Il settled the blame solely on her new companion. Her hunger did not help matters.

"Then find us shelter," she finally growled out, a low rumble lacing her words.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Right." Wygraant marked time with a dry affirmative, nodding curtly as he turned to head further along a fork in the trail. The gradient of trees disappearing in the dark became more stark a few dozen paces within. Cautiously, the Captain slowed his pace, keeping his eyes on the ground. An embankment crested, then fell away suddenly.

"This looks like a dry riverbed. Fairly deep."

At least he could see the bottom of it. The wash wasn't too steep to make descending a problem, so Wygraant carefully eased over the edge, letting gravity do the rest of the work as he slid along the steep side of the bank. An ungainly tumble arrested his slide, and the Captain rose to his feet, tidying himself automatically.

"Well then."

In a moment of serendipity, Wygraant noticed a darkened concave spot a good distance down the embankment. His initial suspicion was that it was just a deceptive shadow, but the closer he got, he could see a hole dug into the old riverbed. He closed the distance, mindful to pick away at a snarl of thick brush that had nearly grown over the opening. It looked large for an animal burrow, though the wildlife of Umbara had proven it was hardly timid.

"I may have found something suitable."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

With her prize on one shoulder, the Lupine navigated her way down the slope, following his lead. Her own footing was a bit shaky at best, but she managed with minimal fuss. She moved to stand beside him as the last of the brush was cleared away.

"It looks decent enough," she murmured. In the darkness though, there was no real way to tell if whatever he'd found would be viable or not. A huffed breath, and s'Il lifted a hand, giving his shoulder a light clap.

"Gentlemen first, Captain."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant glanced back, hesitating. No use. If the Jedi wanted him dead, she wouldn't require a handicap such as him showing his back to her. He ducked into the cramped opening, activating the directional torch to further illuminate the path. The burrow narrowed a few meters in. The Captain's boots splashed in a puddle a few steps within.

"That's a sump. This burrow must be man-made."

The small depression in the path was meant as a natural break to prevent water from coursing further within. Of course, it could have been a coincidence, but a few paces beyond that, a haphazard array of empty container pods gave further proof to the space's inhabited nature. Captain Wygraant paused to inspect one of them, upon which a familiar symbol could be seen.

"The Grand Army of the Republic. This must have been a fallback position during the invasion."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Scenting the air as she followed, s'Il pulled a disgusted face as his light fell on the old emblem.

"An ugly campaign," she offered in no slight amount of disgruntlement.

The banshee claw was set down as she blinked, sending a thoughtful gaze around them. Old containers, a few long-dead battery packs, and even a small generator lay scattered about.

A long sigh, and the Lupine slowly lowered herself to sit. A moment. Just a moment to collect herself. Her reserves were running dangerously low, but she was damned if she let on that her strength was fading. Leaning over, she pulled a discarded concussion mortar tube close. She picked it up, lazily examining it.

"I never fought here, though. Not then."

She set the piece of used ordnance aside, opting to dig about in one of the half-opened crates beside her.

"Heard enough stories about it from the Clones."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"I was here."

He spoke of the past like it required dust to be blown off of it. He had, after all, been a very young Ensign with hardly two months removed from academy service. Almost another lifetime ago.

"Well, with the fleet, that is. We smashed the token defense fleet the Confederacy had allotted to Umbara and held blockade to support the landing. Uneventful from my perspective, though afterward...well."

If she'd heard from the clones, then she knew all she needed. General Krell's treason on Umbara was just the first taste of the Jedis' betrayals.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"General Krell was not fit to even look upon a lightsaber."

Words spoken in disgust as she remembered vividly the rising anger that had welled up inside of her with each word coming from the mouths of those who'd managed to survive.

Pulling a few tattered canvas remnants from the crate, she tossed them into a pile. A 'henh', as she liberated a small, compact bundle of quick-lite. She slid from her perch, shoving the canvas scraps closer together. She looked up then, in the direction of the cave's opening, and getting to her feet, moved toward the mouth. When she returned, she dropped the armload of dried brush and smattering of mid-sized limbs to the ground.

"He was a disgrace."

The quick-lite was buried beneath the canvas, and wasting little time s'Il angled her arm. The orange blades sprang to life, held a hair's breath from the closest scrap. It began to smoke, and shifting slightly, she touched the tip against the incendiary canister. It flared, then hissed as its' old contents were finally brought to life.

[Rolth Wygraant]

The Captain made himself useful by canvasing the burrow for any equipment that may have been left behind. Whatever remained was over thirty years old. More than enough time for metal to rust where exposed. However, the equipment crates were hermetically sealed with gaskets. If the casing itself wasn't compromised...

hisss

Rolth smiled as he opened the latch. The latch itself cracked in the process, but the crate gave up its secrets, whatever they may be. Wygraant busied himself with taking a small inventory of the leavings.

"I'm sure that's what was said of him. No-true-Jedi, as the saying goes."

That it was a logical fallacy. Calling out the misdeeds of a member of the very same order by stating the offender was never a Jedi to begin with. Except that he most certainly was. And where Pong Krell went, so too did the Jedi Order in gradual form.

"It's always been an uncomfortable reality, I'm afraid. Perhaps it's not so apparent on the other end of the lightsaber, as it were. I'm assuming that with your familiarity with Krell that you are a veteran?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She stared at the eager flames as they grew, shifting her crouch so that she could settle into a sitting position while pulling the banshee claw closer.

"Of a sort," she conceded.

"I was maybe 18 when the Clone Wars began. Still a Padawan."

Pulling a longer-sized stick from her pile of retrieved bundle of brush, s'Il pushed it into the budding fire in an effort to coax more canvas to light.

"A lot of my time was spent with my Master, though I did take part in the offensive on the Cluster."

She could still remember her time spent in close quarters during those early days. She'd always preferred the company of the Clones, and they had always been eager to pull her into their brotherhood. A moment passed, as she began to greedily scoop out a few handfuls of the inner musculature from the claw's arm joints.

"So you're a Navy man through and through, eh."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"The cluster? Carshoulis?"

The spearhead campaign into the Outer Rim sieges had originated on a three prong theater, and the Carshoulis Cluster was group center. It took heavy casualties, but effectively cut off a major Confederate force from reinforcing other defensive lines.

"I was aboard the Resolute during the sieges. We were at Saleucami at that point I think."

A tin of rations was pulled free. Rolth glanced for a date on the can, then tossed it away.

"I'm the fourth generation of Wygraants in the service. From the Chandrilan home guard to the Judicial fleet. From the Republic, to the Empire."

The Captain dug through the spoils, finding a half-pilfered case of power cells. Some of the interface prongs had corroded over, but there were a few still in usable condition.

"It's...expected of us."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Always expectations," she mumbled.

Her makeshift fire poker dug into the ashes that'd begun to form beneath the flames, and quickly she began to push the raw meat down into the opening.

The Lupine worked in silence then, as she mulled over his words.

Her gaze drifted up to watch him. In the light cast by her fire, his shadow danced as he went about rummaging through whatever crate he'd found interesting.

"And... " there was no dancing around the question, and true to form she speared directly to the heart of it.

"... and Order 66? Where were you then?"