Have I mentioned the sheer stupidity of venturing into the jungle?
My squad had earned the dubious honor. Our primary objective: collect bacterial samples from fresh, salt, and flowing water.
A plain featuring salt lakes, a stagnant pond, and a river provided the ideal harvesting ground. The secondary objective required local fauna. SorSyn planned to deploy weakened leviathans, adapting them to the planetary ecosystem.
We traveled via shuttles. Logic dictated a zero percent probability of reaching our destination unmolested.
A month on this dirt-ball. The insurgents had ceased their direct assaults on our facilities. Instead, they protested the occupation.
All dissenting natives were processed into slavery. Three million plebeians followed them into the pens.
A fraction of the non-humans attempted resistance. The Sith Lords projected an aura of sheer terror to break them. Now, the locals loathed the very word 'Sith'.
A statistical anomaly: yesterday, the Alsakan fleet secured another victory. Vija and Vaja requisitioned a batch of eight shuttles. We flew in four equipped with deflector shields. The remaining craft were stripped for parts in the hangar. Reinforcements and supply lines stabilized, though dozens of Republic vessels continued to crash onto the surface.
"Missile!"
The shuttle banked hard, dumping countermeasures. The projectile wasn't tracking us. Vija sensed its trajectory through the Force. Vaja and I synchronized our telekinesis.
We altered the vector. The warhead detonated against the canopy. Shrapnel scoured the hull plating, failing to penetrate.
The dorsal turret swiveled, saturating the calculated launch vector. Our escort received the targeting data and broke formation to engage. We fell in behind, providing a defensive screen.
Twelve laser cannons erased the grid square. Trees vaporized. The terrain was reduced to a smoking crater.
The flight group realigned and resumed the approach vector.
The first ambush had invoked panic. This was the ninth. My nervous system was degrading, but we were nearing the drop zone.
"Vija, should we adjust altitude? An orbital insertion would bypass the canopy entirely."
She projected a tactical holographic overlay. Hundreds of Republic wrecks littered the upper atmosphere.
"An ion cannon would gut us from below. At this altitude, we only face slow ballistics and low-yield laser emplacements."
Vaja supplemented the tactical analysis.
"A missile strike at this height means a crash landing. A strike in orbit means atmospheric incineration."
The Twi'leks stared at me. My tactical proposal had been fundamentally flawed. I accepted the reprimand in silence, refocusing my attention on the sensor sweeps.
Perhaps the insurgents lacked further martyrs. The remainder of the transit proceeded without hostile contact.
The flight group touched down on the plain. Ramps lowered. The Sith deployed according to standard operational doctrine.
The flight crews and my team disembarked last.
Available assets: one hundred and sixteen Sith troopers, six pilots, four Alsakan infantry. I summoned the squad commanders. Tactical survival dictated rigid parameters.
Biological containment units had been pre-allocated.
"Operational parameters. Comlink check-in upon target acquisition. Check-in upon exfiltration. Check-in under fire."
A perfectly logical mandate. Even the most zealous sycophant couldn't object.
"Alpha squad: salt lakes. Beta: the river. Gamma: the freshwater marsh. Delta: establish a perimeter around the landing zone. I will locate the nearest predatory cluster."
A pilot gestured to the shuttle alignment.
"We will maintain standby power to the deflectors. The drives are primed for immediate infantry support."
I secured my heavy helmet.
"Maintain extreme prejudice. The enemy requires functional transport."
The Sith locked their visors. Delta squad immediately extracted ablative plating from the cargo bays and began fortifying the landing zone.
The retrieval teams vanished into the foliage. I calibrated my senses to locate biological signatures on the periphery.
I channeled the Force, isolating a directional vector. I invoked a standard cellular acceleration technique.
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"Keep pace."
The Twi'leks matched my velocity. Without their exposed faces, they moved with the lethal precision of fully indoctrinated Sith.
Their progression was a statistical anomaly given the brief training period. Then again, survival was a potent motivator. Idle time did not exist; they either maintained the fleet or honed their connection to the Force.
Sprinting through hostile foliage was a tactical error. Fragmenting our forces compounded the risk. Yet, static defense guaranteed encirclement.
We lacked the numbers for a protracted engagement. Sacrificing fifty percent of our assets was mathematically superior to annihilation.
I re-calibrated my sensory web and adjusted our vector.
"Gamma, target acquired."
We reached the coordinates. Primate analogs clustered in the upper canopy.
"Beta, target acquired."
The pack ignored us.
"Vija, prep the restraints. We—"
I snapped my hand up. Telekinetic grasp seized a plasma bolt mere centimeters from her skull.
Vaja leveled her rifle and laid down a suppressing pattern toward the origin vector.
I expanded my sensory perimeter, calculating the secondary strike.
Vija mirrored her sister, dissecting the tree line with continuous fire. My comlink activated.
"Alpha, target acquired."
As Alpha reported, kinetic impacts staggered the Twi'leks. They triangulated the origin point and drained their power cells into the foliage.
I observed the thermal silhouette of the sniper dropping from the canopy. A two-kilometer gap rendered pursuit mathematically unviable.
"Our operational timeframe here is unacceptable. The mortality rate of the Sith Lords is no longer a mystery."
Vaja swapped thermal clips, her primary focus anchored on maintaining our kinetic barriers.
"Is the biological asset critical? We just established a beachhead."
A spike of raw killing intent flared in my peripheral senses. I drew my sidearm, aiming precisely opposite the sniper's escape vector.
"Alpha actual. Assets secured. Taking fire. Falling back to the LZ."
My pistol lacked a smart-link scope. At ten kilometers, the bolt wouldn't penetrate wet paper.
I fired regardless. I seized the plasma charge with the Force, compressing and guiding the bolt directly into the epicenter of the hostility.
Seconds passed. The malicious intent evaporated. A biological signature on the distant ridge ceased to exist.
"Beta. Falling back."
I channeled the Force into my optic nerves. The sniper possessed electrobinoculars and a surgically precise burn through his frontal lobe.
"Vija. Execute capture. I have overwatch. Multiple hostile signatures converging."
She isolated the lowest primate and yanked it from the branch. She dropped her rifle, deploying the flex-cord.
The creature plummeted, flailing. Meters from impact, it arrested in mid-air. Vija bound it seamlessly, letting gravity reclaim it only after zeroing its kinetic energy. An intact specimen.
"Gamma. Falling back. Taking heavy fire."
Vaja secured the tether. The canopy erupted in shrieks. The remaining pack bared their teeth, mobilizing to intercept.
I stared into the foliage and broadcasted an aura of absolute terror. Survival instincts overrode pack loyalty. The creatures scrambled higher into the canopy.
"Secured. Retreating to the LZ?"
I swept the perimeter. No immediate anomalies.
"Move. Controlled pace. Prioritize kinetic barriers."
Paranoia was a survival mechanism. The threat proximity had not diminished. I kept the sidearm drawn; the Twi'leks advanced with rifles shouldered.
The exfiltration was uncontested. The landing zone held three intact squads. One trooper lay prone, a plasma burn cauterizing his trachea.
Only the Dark Side kept his heart beating. The identity of the assailants was irrelevant. The silence of Alpha squad was the critical data point.
I keyed the frequency. Static. Total asset failure imminent. I pivoted toward the lake vector.
"Board the transports. Vector toward Alpha's last known coordinates. I will secure a landing zone."
I inverted my telekinetic grip, violently accelerating my own mass forward.
Cranial pressure spiked. The physical stress of the velocity threatened muscle tearing.
The ambient emotional field was sterile. The density of the flora corrupted accurate threat detection.
Ten minutes of sustained sprint yielded the remains of Alpha. Their durasteel armor was compacted. Liquefied biological matter extruded from the compromised seals.
A localized crush-depth failure. Their lightsabers remained clipped to their belts. A flawless ambush.
I analyzed the immediate environment. The spatial distribution of the surrounding timber was mathematically improbable. The roots were interwoven at contradictory angles, and the canopy formed an artificial ceiling.
The threat proximity spiked. I extended a telekinetic net, stripping the lightsabers from the pulverized corpses.
"Abort landing sequence. Saturate this coordinate grid."
I initialized the telemetry on my datapad. The soil beneath my boots ruptured. I violently repulsed myself upward as thick wooden coils surged into the airspace.
Dozens of salvaged lightsabers hovered, ignited, and engaged in a high-RPM defensive screen.
The root system adapted, dodging the plasma arcs and seizing the hilts. The weapons shattered under immense torque.
I gathered telekinetic mass at my boots, intending a concussive shockwave. Calculations proved it insufficient. I redirected the energy, executing a secondary mid-air leap.
Subterranean coils breached my predicted landing zone, tracking like heat-seekers. I discharged a volley of Force lightning. The wood absorbed the voltage without degradation.
I repulsed myself laterally toward an ancient trunk, anchoring my mass to the bark, elevated from the slaughter zone.
The root system abandoned stealth. The forest floor dissolved into a writhing mass of fibrous tentacles. The canopy joined the assault, branches extending to skewer me.
Alpha squad was consumed. The roots dragged the pulverized armor into the earth.
I leaped to an adjacent trunk. My previous anchor point collapsed into splinters.
The shuttles broke through the canopy, dumping plasma into the hot zone. I utilized the covering fire, launching myself via telekinesis.
Mid-arc, Vija's telekinetic grip stabilized my trajectory. I slammed onto the shuttle's dorsal plating.
The bombardments reduced the flora to ash, yet the threat level escalated. I pulsed my sensory web. Hostile biological mass was converging exponentially.
"Ramp is down."
I dove off the hull, sliding through the open airlock.
"Abort mission. Burn for high orbit. Atmospheric transit is a death sentence."
The pilots severed the bombardment and pulled maximum Gs toward the exosphere. As we broke atmosphere, I felt the cold, oppressive scrutiny of an apex predator. A master of the Force.
The negligence of the Sith Lords was abhorrent. Their after-action reports had omitted an entire planetary defense mechanism.
The tactical anomaly was resolved. Guided missiles and localized sniper deployments were facilitated by total environmental control.
The localized bio-warfare plan was obsolete. Poisoning the water was a half-measure. The only viable countermeasure was the deployment of mature leviathans.
This hemisphere required orbital glassing. A Jedi utilizing complete botanical manipulation possessed infinite tactical depth. Given time, the entire planet would become a singular, hostile entity.
The shuttles achieved orbital silence. My pulse stabilized. I began compiling the casualty report.