Balun Dashiell moved swiftly through the city center, Oscar Buckley close on his heels. They kept to the left side of the main strip, heads low, eyes alert. Across from them, La'das Beiran and Ewan Whitley mirrored their movements on the right, the four men advancing with purpose toward the high-rise where their recon team, Isabella Johnson and Reuben Fletcher, kept watch from the rooftop.
"
Fletcher, Johnson, we're almost at your position," Balun spoke quietly into his tactical headset. His Ranger Scout Rifle stayed pressed against his shoulder, the barrel angled downward in caution. They moved quickly, sticking close to the wall, eyes scanning the distant streets for any sign of trouble. He didn't want to risk a stray shot hitting a civilian.
"
Copy that, Dashiell. We're moving down to the street," Fletcher's voice crackled back over the comms as he and Johnson descended the stairwell. Soon, Balun and his team would be in position. Beiran and Whitley hung back near the entrance of the building while Balun and Oscar took point further ahead.
Suddenly, something caught Balun's eye. He paused, instinctively pulling out his binoculars from his side pouch. Through the lenses, he saw a group of civilians moving with three robed figures. "
Eyes forward. We've got company," he muttered, his voice tense. "
Civilians and three unknowns. The locals are armed, but those robes…"
He hesitated as a cold sensation washed over him. The Force stirred with a warning, a subtle pulse of danger. "
Grist, I think they're Force users," Balun murmured, his right hand leaving the rifle to signal the squad to halt and take cover.
Force users. Or worse, Darksiders. It would explain the chaos that had engulfed the capital and why the civilians were so agitated. Lowering his rifle, he allowed it to hang by the sling over his shoulder, his hand drifting to the lightsaber clipped to his belt. With a quiet determination, he unlatched it.
"
I'm going to try talking to them," Balun instructed, his voice steady but firm. "
Cover me, and if you can, avoid killing the civilians. We need them neutralized, not dead. As for the robed ones—if they draw their lightsabers, do what you have to."
With that, he straightened up, stepping out into the open, his hands held loosely at his sides. He moved into the center of the street, making his presence known, hoping they wouldn't simply shoot on sight. The tension crackled in the air as he approached, waiting for their next move.