Kiara
Hermit
Dagobah - The Lost Forests
Places to live and almost never be found? This was one of them. Perhaps not the best choice, but then again, a very good one. Nature littered the ground and sky, leaving plenty to eat and harvest. Facilities laid in the far back of the lands if need to be stolen. The amount of crashed ships was terribly ridiculous, leaving for a hefty amount of spare parts, and not to mention the materials of the groups that came with it.
Kiara jumped and twirled in mid-air to avoid new branches and creatures of their resting state, keeping quiet as her her leather boots repeatedly hopped off of a tree or bounced off of dirt and mud. Her long metal staff occasionally made a clank as she boosted herself off something hard - then it appeared. A strong presence of the Force. It was nature, or industry, helping each other create something dangerous. Kiara kept frozen for a minute, then slowly turned back behind her to leave. She was greeted.
"Are you... my... mummy?" The young child's voice asked slowly, giving Kiara a sense of dread. Without even waiting for it to move, she whipped up strength and brought it forward to bonk the thing on the head. It let out an ear piercing screech, leaving it's human sell of personality behind as it began to twirl and jump about, beating the defenses of Kiara's staff to a near pulp. The hermit had to use all of her energy just to out-run the creature and dive into her hut, where she then powered on a few assassin droids and stealth alike. The dirt crust of her bed and punched through, and a button pressed. Instantly her hut was covered and cut by metal sheets to protect her. This was no accident.
Distress Signal
A new signal was opened onto the open broadcast. That of an ancient distress signal, something from a device that was pieced together from spare parts and duct tape. Someone out there, someone out in Dagobah had a message. From the broadcast spoke a gravely droid's voice. It belonged to a Frankenstein of droids. Pieced together until something worked. "Help. We are being over-run. Creatures varying as followed: 2-4 meters. 4-5 limbs. Approximately 134-202 pounds Galactic weight. Help. We are being over-run. Creatures are known for hostile movements in advanced strength and movements. They cannot feel pain. Help. We are being over-run..." The message carried on from a loop.
[member="Lyth Meran"]
[member="Enduri Jaii"]
[member="Darth Eversor"]