Silver Guardian
Kashyyyk Planetwide: Distress Signal
Comms static. Within a darkened durasteel command room—lights flickering, consoles sparking, and bombardment shaking the makeshift walls—a silver-haired Jedi Master stood. Around him, officers scrambled at frantic stations, fighting a desperate losing battle.
"To all ships, vehicles, or any brave and crazy souls out there, this is General Amadis of the Kashyyyk Resistance. This is a planetwide distress call. I repeat: a planetwide distress call for the evacuation of Kashyyyk. If you have a ship and the guts, now's the time."
The lights flicker again. More static, his face looked grim but steady.
"Don't have much longer. They don't have much longer. And they need you now."
The end was closing in. They'd done all they could for their homeworld. But refugees and civilians still needed a hero—some damn fool with a ship, more guts than sense, and the nerve to punch through a blockade. He'd done it before. Ion blasts, odds stacked against them, a race against the gun. Saving as many as they could, and escaping by the skin of their teeth.
And now Kashyyyk needed that kind of madness one more time. What would their fate be? Did the galaxy have it in them like it once did?
Comms static. Within a darkened durasteel command room—lights flickering, consoles sparking, and bombardment shaking the makeshift walls—a silver-haired Jedi Master stood. Around him, officers scrambled at frantic stations, fighting a desperate losing battle.
"To all ships, vehicles, or any brave and crazy souls out there, this is General Amadis of the Kashyyyk Resistance. This is a planetwide distress call. I repeat: a planetwide distress call for the evacuation of Kashyyyk. If you have a ship and the guts, now's the time."
The lights flicker again. More static, his face looked grim but steady.
"Don't have much longer. They don't have much longer. And they need you now."
The end was closing in. They'd done all they could for their homeworld. But refugees and civilians still needed a hero—some damn fool with a ship, more guts than sense, and the nerve to punch through a blockade. He'd done it before. Ion blasts, odds stacked against them, a race against the gun. Saving as many as they could, and escaping by the skin of their teeth.
And now Kashyyyk needed that kind of madness one more time. What would their fate be? Did the galaxy have it in them like it once did?
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