Public The War of the Wookiees

[Darth Nathrax]

Location: Ver'kuula River, Kashyyyk
Objective: Rendezvous with Chief Karn'uu
Tags: Kyra Nex , Ova Ziss , Jehlan Beidi

Deep in the secluded jungles of Kashyyyk, there was a single raft rolling on the river. Mist circled around it, just inches off of the surface of the water. The ferryman, who was paid handsomely to guide them safely down the river, grumbled at the sight of the Diarchy forces filling up his ferry. Chief among them was a darkly clad man with an intimidating bone-like mask, who stared deeply into the reflective waters below.

The rivers of Kashyyyk were a dangerous place to those who were uninitiated in travelling them. Not only were they teeming with life that could rend flesh, or swallow men whole, but they winded and meandered for miles. Even those attuned to the Force could lose their way in these jungles...

Nathrax watched as a serpent of some sort circled the boat, scowling as the creature swam closer than he'd like to the side. He heard the old Wookie behind him growl and gargle, using the ancient tongue of the jungle folk. Nathrax did not speak the language well, but he could figure out the basics. He was being warned not to get too close to the water, lest the river snake attempt to make a meal of him.

"I am aware of the dangers of this wretched green rock. If this serpent gets much closer to me, it will find nothing but the burning edge of my saber! Now focus on your task Wookiee, I wish to be at the meeting point before sundown."

The Sith earned a bit of ire for that, but it was hard to argue with the pay. So he continued rowing down the way. It would be another thirty minutes before they reached the bank, where old Wookiee trail signs had lead them. This was the home of the Tra'kna tribe, a smaller, but more isolationist family of Wookiees. They rarely allowed anyone outside of their own into their land in, unless they came bearing gifts...

This was the case with Darth Nathrax, who levitated several cargo crates off of the raft. It wasn't much, but it would easily wet the appetites of the long-furred warriors. More would come when they agreed to the conditions of the Diarchy. Complete and total submission to them, and a promise to destroy the other tribes. Begin a war that the Diarchy could fund, and join without seeming like the aggressors in the conflict. This was, unless some Jedi or other such do-gooders stepped in to throw a wrench into things. Such paranoia made secrecy and control vital to Nathrax, who was always scanning those near him.

 

[Jehlan Beidi]

Location: Shadowlands, Kashyyyk
Object: Investigate Civil Unrest
Gear: In Sig
Tags: Darth Nathrax

It had been many years, more than it should have been, since I've returned to the planet of my birth and upbringing; not since I passed the Jedi Trials and was Knighted had my feet felt the comfort of the forest floors, my lungs breathing in the sweet aromas that wafted throughout the wooded areas, or the sights and sounds that put my senses at ease. Kashyyyk was a dangerous planet, less one understood her and accepted her as she was, a loving Mother to all her children. And here, years removed from the Jedi Order, I returned but not for pleasurable reunions.

There were rumors, whispers that once more trouble had come to Kashyyyk, and for all its beauty it could never shake the eyes of those wishing to exploit her. Her history is riddled with tragedy, that even the greatest of minds could be hard pressed to find another planet that suffered as much as she had. So it pained me that my return home was not by grander designs. I needed information and for that, I traveled to the famous, or infamous depending on one's personal perspective, to the Shadowlands; where only the strongest dare tread. Everything down there wanted to eat you.

For information, accurate information not second-hand tales, I sought out Rry'yyk who was once Chieftan of his tribe until the life of the Shadowlands called to him, where he now enjoyed his twilight years hunting in peace. If there was one Wookie whose ear caught every whispering word that passed through Kashyyyk, it was his. I found him hovering over a fresh kill, a kinrath judging by the physical make-up, as he began stripping it down. Here in the Shadowlands, for those that call it home, every piece from a kill served a purpose, from food to building materials and everything in between.

"Hey old man," I said in Shyriiwook, the native tongue of the Wookies, as I approached him. I had been taught their language when I was but a wee one, when life was much easier then. Very few outsiders know the language, they can understand it, but to speak it, well, that's different all together. The big Wookie growled and charged toward me, grabbing me in a massive bear hug, lifting me off the ground. It was good to be home, considering the circumstances.

 

[Kyra Nex]

ARC #1 - Flames of the Rubicon
Tags: Darth Nathrax Jehlan Beidi
3rd Company, 4th Squad, Pvt. Kyra "Tyrant" Nex.​

---

Deep within the undergrowth of Kashyyyk's verdant jungles, a tension simmered in the air, laced with both the sweet, heavy scent of alien foliage and the acrid smell of anxiety and anticipation. Kyra Nex, known to her squad mates simply as "Tyrant," huddled under a canopy of thick leaves with her unit, the Ashen Legion's Charred Dominion squad. Their armor, streaked with mud and plant residue, helped them blend into the natural surroundings—an essential precaution on a planet where the environment was as much an adversary as any opposing force.

"Ghost," she whispered, addressing Pvt. Gabriel "Ghost" Johnson, who was fiddling with a thermal detonator. "You reckon that's gonna be more useful than your sense of humor today?"

Ghost flashed a smirk beneath his helmet, the visor reflecting the faint glimmers of light that pierced the dense canopy. "Tyrant, when have my jokes ever exploded in my face? Don't answer that," he added quickly, catching Kyra's amused glance.

Nearby, Pvt. Madison "Mirage" Martinez was meticulously checking the seals on her flamethrower. "You know, Tyrant, I hear the jungle has a way of swallowing folks whole," Mirage said, her tone half-joking, half-serious. "Better keep that charm of yours handy, might need to sweet-talk a vine or two."

Kyra laughed softly, the sound muffled by the layers of leaves and the constant drone of insectoid chatter around them. "Oh, I've charmed tougher crowds than Kashyyyk's flora," she boasted, adjusting the fit of her helmet. The royal purple accents on her armor caught a sliver of light, a reminder of her unapologetic vanity even in the midst of stealth operations.

"Jolt," she called out to Pvt. Jacob "Jolt" Young, who was scanning their perimeter with a pair of macrobinoculars. "See anything out there, or are you just admiring the view?"

"Nothing much to admire unless you like endless green and things that want to eat you," Jolt replied, his voice dry. "But it's all quiet—for now. No movement other than the usual critters."

The squad's relative levity belied the gravity of their mission. They were stationed here as a forward-operating unit, ready to advance on command once the diplomatic plays further upriver—spearheaded by figures like Darth Nathrax—either succeeded or failed. The Diarchy's strategy hinged on using both overt power and subtle manipulations, and Kyra's unit was a critical part of that equation.

Kyra's gaze drifted to the heavy flamethrower by her side. She patted the weapon affectionately. "Well, if those critters decide to get too close, they'll get a taste of something hotter than this jungle's air," she quipped.

"Maelstrom," she turned to Pvt. Mason "Maelstrom" Clark, who was always keen on discussing tactics, "you think Nathrax's play will pan out? Or are we going to have to light up this jungle with more than just witty banter?"

Maelstrom, absorbed in a map display on his datapad, looked up thoughtfully. "It's a tightrope walk, Tyrant. If the Wookiees bite, we watch from the sidelines. If not..." His words trailed off, leaving the ominous unsaid.

Kyra nodded, her face set in a grim line beneath the glow of her visor. This mission, cloaked in the shadows of Kashyyyk's towering trees, was unlike any they had faced before. Here, in the heart of the jungle, the lines between predator and prey blurred, and every shadow could conceal a deadly surprise.

 

[Ova Ziss]

Objective 1: Rendezvouz with Wookie Chieftain
Location: Ver'Kuula River, Kashyyk
Tags: Darth Nathrax | Kyra Nex | Jehlan Beidi ​

The Jungles of Kashyyk was no place for a curmudgeonly business executive. However, the prospect of credits and having a trade route to the exotic moons of Kashyyk couldn't keep Ova Ziss away for long. He agreed - tentatively, very tentatively - to travel with the High Marshal of the Diarchy to deliver a special present to the Chieftain. The tribute was a surprise, but Ova was certain that they'd like it.

Ova Ziss had tried being polite for most of the trip, but after the second or third hour spent on the raft, he gave up and visibly frowned, keeping the bowcaster he had brought with him clutched close. It was fully loaded and ready to go because there were a billion and one things that went bump in the night in the Shadowlands. This bowcaster, however, looked a lot different than the ones carried by our Wookie Sherpa.

Ova stood uncomfortably close to Kyra Nex and her squad of commandos, watching the slimy snake-like creature circle to the front of the raft, and then to the back. It was definitely following the raft. It had to be. Ova raised his bowcaster slightly, setting it to single-fire mode - but then the snake suddenly saw much easier prey in the distance, and took off, making Ova jump from how quickly it scattered across the water.

If those critters decide to get too close, they'll get a taste of something hotter than this jungle's air

"Promise us you'll toast up something edible with that thing, huh?", Ova Ziss quipped. "With respect, Wookie cooking is much hairier than I expected."

Then, Darth Nathrax spoke, which immediately silenced Ova. The man's bone-like mask frightened Ova: but, Ova reasoned, he couldn't imagine how afraid the mask made the creatures out there in the wilderness feel. Ova fell silent until they reached dry land.

[...]

When they arrive at the Chieftain's structure, Ova Ziss steps off of the raft immediately. Land, dry land! He would've kissed it if he wasn't such a narcissist. One of the men that the group arrived with ( Jehlan Beidi ) is already embracing the chieftain right off the bat, which must bare well for the negotiations.

Ova remains quiet until he's given a proper opportunity to introduce himself. He doesn't dare speak, at all, until Darth Narthrax speaks. When Narthrax does have a chance to introduce himself, Ova speaks up in a calm and gentle voice. He speaks through the Wookie Sherpa translator, but he looks at the Chieftain. "Greetings." He bows his head, making sure to show the Chieftain proper respect. "I am Ova Ziss, a Governor from Dantooine and a business man. I've come--that is to say, we have come--bearing tribute, to show that we mean no harm. Would His Highness receive the tribute?" Ova hoped that the Chieftain would receive the tribute and hear an audience with them: otherwise, it was right back up the river they came from, and another few hours in the Shadowlands rafting home. But, Ova was optimistic.

 

[Darth Nathrax]

While Nathrax and his forces were undergoing their clandestine operations, not too far away there was another meeting going on. One between the old Wookiee Rry'yyk and Jehlan Beidi , it was the decidedly more wholesome of the two! The old Wookiee hadn't seen Jehlan in quite a many years, were it only that their reunion could be under happier terms. Today he had nothing but bad news to relay, news that boded ill for Kashyyyk at large...

Rry'yyk sat back down on a stump to resume harvesting his kill, only to begin growling away about the situation. [You picked a damn good time to come back Jehlan, things are getting a bit dangerous. We've seen a rise in the number of raids from one of the exiled tribes here in the Shadowlands. Not only that, but they've seem to be using advanced weapons. Nasty stuff, definitely offworld weapons. I'd bet anything that the Tra'kna tribe are getting help from offworlders.]

Nathrax had no idea that anyone else knew of his previous secret visits to Kashyyyk, donating many weapons from the stockpiles of the Diarchy to the exiled Tra'kna tribe. Perhaps if he had, he wouldn't be rushing into the woods with such abandoned. Though, there were other factors making him rush towards the meeting foot. Chief among them being his distrust of Ova Ziss , who he had only known briefly. He was no true warrior, more a capitalist with delusions of grandeur, not that Nathrax had ever made these feelings known.

He saw Ziss as a necessary pawn for the larger game The Diarchy was playing. He could accomplish feats that even the Sith Lord could not, so powerful were his contacts in the business sector. With a large enough pull from Ova, they could do many things with money that couldn't be done by force.

Their target had been waiting for them, a beast even by Wookie standards. He was taller than most of his kin, and as broad as one would expect from a chieftan. The hulking creature stood from behind some loose shrubbery and growled, deciding to address Ova directly. It would seem that the tribal chief was interested in their offer.

"Kar'nuu would like to see what you offer Ova. I believe you have caught his attention with you...unique gift." Nathrax would be their translator for the interaction, speaking enough Shyriiwook to get the gist of things.

When it was clear that Ziss was in control of things, Nathrax raised his wrist toward his face, priming the communicator to send orders to his troopers.

" Kyra Nex , move to overwatch positions on higher ground. I want your squad to be the first to see any interlopers coming. I have a sneaking suspicion we will not be alone tonight..."

 

[Ova Ziss]

Objective: Rendezvouz with Wookie Chieftain
Location: Ver'Kuula River, Kashyyk
Tags: Darth Nathrax | Kyra Nex | Jehlan Beidi ​

Ova offered up the gift of tribute to the tribal chief Kar'Nuu. The gift on offer was the very bowcaster that Ova had been carrying through the shadowlands to defend himself, which likely came as a surprise. Ova knew that offering the gift in this way would bring more significance in the eye of the tribal chief, because Ova himself had trusted the weapon to protect his own well-being.

The bowcaster was much larger than a regular one, and Ova needed a shoulder attachment simply to carry it. He unattached the shoulder attachment and untwined the strap from his shoulders, grunting as the weight of the weapon bore against his only mildly-trained muscles. It was a weapon more for a Wookie than a human. The bowcaster, the likes of which nobody present had ever seen before, was about ten to fifteen percent larger than a regular Wookie bowcaster, mostly due to an extended magazine that hung from the weapon. It had a distinctly modern and industrial design, such that an ancient Jedi would definitely insult it as an un-elegant weapon. The laser splitter crystal looked quite unique, too: the crystals were layered on top of each other in an intricate pattern. Overall, it was an incredibly intimidating, sleek, black and brown weapon.

"Your Highness, I offer to you this unique gift: one of only three that exist in all of the galaxy." Ova's eyes glimmered as he looked over his weapon; his beauty; the Pride of Kashyyk. It was the result of thousands of hours of innovation, working and reworking, and both Jedi and Sith manufacturing. This was Ova's answer to the planetary pirate problems on Dantooine.

"We call this weapon...the Pride of Kashyyk. You are the first person other than myself to hold this weapon in your arms."

Spoiler: Pride of Kashyyk

"It is a heavy repeating bowcaster designed by my people on Dantooine. We have used this weapon against the pirate intruders on our planet. We heard that you now face a similar issue with belligerent tribes. And now, I offer it to you, having used it here in the Shadowlands to reach you."

Ova gives the Pride of Kashyyk Bowcaster to Kar'Nuu, allowing him to hold the weapon and give it a thoroughly looking over. Ova bows deeply, his head down, presenting the weapon to the chief with maximum deference and respect. Ova delighted in the chief's reactions, whatever they were. Ova examined the chief's reactions like an academic researcher observing a subject. The businessman enjoyed getting to know his customers (although not too closely), mostly so that he could develop better products and more products. He wanted to know what a genuine Wookie of Kashyyk thought of the weapon that he had developed, in part to help end their tribal wars. He had nothing to fear: Ova knew that his weapon was the pinnacle of design.

Ova considered Kyra, Darth Nathrax and the Charred Dominion squad's reactions to the P.O.K. They spoke harshly to the guide and each other, and hunted even harder. They were men of war, and he knew that they would be interested most in the technical details of the weapon...and, of course, its killing potential. He spoke matter-of-factly about the weapon's war-like features. "Lightweight durasteel and aluminum alloy, to make it as light as possible. The weight of the weapon comes mostly from the bolts. It has three, count them three, fire settings, and is capable of a seven bolt volley in less than a second."

"Gentlemen, Your Highnesses. What you are looking at is the world's first fully automatic heavy bowcaster. Retail cost, 2250c. Before tax. But this one, of course, is free." Ova pauses for a moment, allowing the translator to keep up. Then, he looks eagerly to the group.

"Now then...who wants to test it first?", Ova offers.

 

[Kyra Nex]

ARC #1 - Flames of the Rubicon
Tags: Darth Nathrax Jehlan Beidi Ova Ziss
3rd Company, 4th Squad, Pvt. Kyra "Tyrant" Nex.​

---

Kyra Nex shifted slightly, her posture relaxed but alert as the creature vanished into the murky depths of the river. The tension from the moment lingered in the air, mingled with the humid breath of the jungle. She turned her helmeted head slightly towards Ova Ziss, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards in a smirk that was more felt than seen beneath her visor.

"Edible? Oh, I can definitely do more than just toast something up," Kyra replied, her voice laced with a teasing undertone. "But you'll have to promise me something in return, Mr Ziss. Keep that fancy bowcaster ready for anything else that decides to jump us. I can handle the fire, but I wouldn't mind a little cover from time to time."

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary, the light from her visor reflecting in the dimness, giving Kyra a predatory, almost enticing glow. "And about that Wookie cooking—maybe I can show you how to spice it up a bit. After all, everything's better with a little heat, wouldn't you agree?"

[...]

In the murky twilight that hung over the dense undergrowth of Kashyyyk's jungle, Kyra Nex, codenamed "Tyrant," found herself crouched beside her squadmates from the Charred Dominion, the pulsating glow of their helmet visors the only light in the suffocating darkness. The air was thick with the rich, earthy smell of decay and the tension of impending conflict.

Sgt. Samuel "Saber" Miller's voice cut through the comms, a quiet yet firm directive. "Tyrant, Ghost, Mirage—eyes sharp. We're on overwatch. Anything moves that isn't covered in fur, you light it up. But keep it quiet. We're not here to start the fireworks... yet."

Kyra nodded to herself, her gaze fixed on the shadowy outlines of the towering wroshyr trees. Her fingers danced lightly over the controls of her flamethrower, the familiar weight of the weapon both a comfort and a reminder of the potential chaos she held in her hands.

"Copy that, Saber," Kyra whispered back, her voice barely a hiss over the comms. Beside her, Pvt. Gabriel "Ghost" Johnson and Pvt. Madison "Mirage" Martinez shifted into position as outline in Nathrax's orders, their own weapons at the ready.

The jungle was alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, a cacophony that masked the soft steps of the Charred Dominion as they moved into their assigned overwatch positions. Kyra found herself a vantage point behind a thickly knotted tree, its gnarled roots providing both cover and a clear line of sight down the slope where the meeting was to take place.

"Ghost, you see anything on the thermal?" Kyra asked, keeping her eyes trained on the darkness below. The infrared scope of her helmet scanned the underbrush, picking up the heat signatures of small mammals and the occasional bird, but nothing that spelled immediate danger.

"Negative, just the usual critters," Ghost replied, his voice calm. "Nothing big enough to worry about... yet."

Kyra allowed herself a small smirk, her attention never wavering from the task at hand. The thrill of the hunt, the anticipation of action, it was exhilarating, yet she remained outwardly composed—a predator waiting patiently for the prey.

Mirage shifted slightly to her left, her voice a low murmur in Kyra's ear. "You think Nathrax has got this under control, Tyrant? Seems like we're hanging a lot on a very thin thread."

Kyra's gaze didn't waver as she responded, "Nathrax knows what he's doing. But we're the safety net. Just stay focused, keep your eyes on the prize, and be ready to turn up the heat if things go south."

The night wore on, and the stillness of the waiting game was almost worse than the firefight Kyra half-expected. Every snapped twig or rustled leaf sent adrenaline coursing through her veins, but she held her position, a silent sentinel in the shadows.

Then, the comms crackled to life again, Saber's voice urgent but controlled. "Movement, north-northeast, approaching the clearing. Get ready to engage, but hold fire until we confirm they're not friendly."

Kyra tightened her grip on her flamethrower, her other hand reaching up to adjust the focus on her visor. The role of overwatch was clear—observe, prepare, but engage only on command. She was a soldier of the Diarchy, after all, disciplined and deadly, her actions dictated by strategy rather than impulse.

As the shadows within the jungle began to stir with the approach of unknown entities, Kyra's pulse quickened. Whatever was coming through those trees, she and her squad were ready—for fire, for fury, or whatever else the night might bring.

 

[Jehlan Beidi]

Location: Shadowlands, Kashyyyk
Object: Investigate Civil Unrest
Gear: In Sig
Tags: Kyra Nex / Ova Ziss

I stroked my beard as I listened to the old Wookie. What he was saying was disheartening, but rather problematic for the tribes. There were several tribes that lived among the forests of the planet, some had long standing alliances, some barley recognizing other tribes, and some that outright hated the other tribes. If a civil war was to erupt on Kashyyyk, it would be genocidal, with both sides on the conflict losing. I wondered why the Jedi Order, who long have been on great terms with the Wookies, had not yet intervened?

"I will look into this. I give you my word," I said taking leave of my adopted Father. Whilst I moved through the Shadowlands, many formulating ideas began manifesting themselves. Who would benefit from such a Civil War? Who was funding this potential war? More importantly, why? When I reached the top, I withdrew my comlink and spoke a few words into it, my ship would transmit it to the Eternal Empire, where our Empress would undoubtedly take an interest in the situation. For me, my work was only beginning.

While eating with the members of Waki Tribe, word had been brought of off-worlders recently arriving, and they were in the next village over. I thanked my hosts, stood up, and walked across the swaying bridges that were the walkways that dangled and hung in the trees. I finally arrived at the village, making inquisitions about the off-worlders, and was pointed in the right direction.

"I do hope the Wookies are treating you with great hospitality," I said in the direction of Darth Nathrax , "They tend to be a little wary of late. Or so I've been told. My name is Jehlan Beidi, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud. What brings you to Kashyyyk?"

 

[Ova Ziss]

Objective: Defend the Clearing
Tags: Kyra Nex | Darth Nathrax | Jehlan Beidi​

"So you know about Wookie cooking too, do you?" Ova smirked to Kyra, tapping his POK Bowcaster. "If anything jumps out at us that isn't a Wookie, we'll light it up and eat well tonight. I could definitely use a hot meal right now."

Ova searched Kyra's expression. Ova noticed the look in Kyra's eyes, and it was a look that he didn't like at all. It was a look that he had seen on the faces of countless bloodthirsty executives and pirates. It was a look of ultraviolence that, five years ago, characterized Ova's very existence, when Ova lived with two terrible wives over two terrible years. A double-divorce would turn any man into a sadist. Ova wondered what gave Kyra that look.

Ova hoped to the Force that they wouldn't be attacked.

[...]

The chieftain seemed perturbed by the gift. The chieftain looked the weapon over not with the wonderment Ova had been hoping for, but with a sense of profound disgust and curiosity, the way that the police examines crime scenes. Ova worried if he had offended the Wookie; if the engineers hadn't made a good enough bowcaster. The explanation given was not what the mineral baron expected.

Ova listened (through the translator) as the Wookie chieftain explained the nature of the tribal wars which set brother against brother, sister against sister, and families upon themselves. The tribes had complicated relationships, with some being long-standing allies, and others being in vicious multi-generational wars. It sounded very much similar to Dantooine's situation over the past fifteen to twenty years: in the post-Jedi and post-Sith world of Dantooine, piracy had thrived, turning factions that had once been friends into enemies. The story of this particular tribe of Kashyyk was at once emboldening and tragic. Ova felt a sense of unearthed empathy - on this planet, Ova saw his own.

The chieftain explained that he would accept the gifts, but that he would be gifting them to his closest protectorate; that he could not accept the gift himself, in lieu of the symbol of war that it represented to the other tribes. Ova accepted this immediately and graciously, for it was the best result he could've hoped for. Ova took out a pen and marked off the parts of his paper business card that said "weapons", then he gave his business card to the Wookie chieftain. "I despise war too", Ova said through the translator, finding that his words were genuine. He placed his hand over his chest and bowed slightly before rising. "If you need something from me and my company to stop war from happening - whether it is a negotiator, or gifts for the enemy, or even some kind of protection - I ask that you send us a message immediately."

After a few moments more of talking, Ova felt the chieftain respectfully push the weapon back into his arms. The Wookie was much larger and stronger than him, so Ova's shoulders and back sunk slightly as Ova pushed the sling over his head and hoofed the shoulder attachment against his body. Then, the chieftain Wookie offered a salute gesture in return. Although Ova doesn't remember exactly what the chieftain said through the translator, it was something along the lines of, "You will need this more than me. There are creatures here with a hunger for humans." It was a heavy weapon for a human to carry without a stand (even when the frame was reduced to lighweight composite), but it would save his life.

Nobody tested the weapon that day. The Wookies didn't need to see more violence and mayhem than they already had.

[...]

Ova rejoined Kyra, Narthrax and Jehlan shortly after gifting the chieftain the Pride of Kashyyk., and after watching Jehlan interact with his old friend. Jehlan mentioned "looking into something". Whatever could that be? Did something go wrong in our diplomacy efforts?

The group as a whole did a rendezvous in a neighboring village. It was relatively quiet now. Ova had joined Charred Dominion and now stood with Kyra and the Squad, slowly scanning his eyes over the horizon of the Shadowlands searching for trouble. He let the Squad's chatter travel in and out of his ears, but Ova cracked a smile. He was beginning to enjoy their humorous back and forth. They were right: they had nothing to worry about, because there was nothing but small, harmless critters around. Ova had scant experience in the Shadowlands, as he would visit Kashyyk about once per year for a hunting trip. However, his hunting parties didn't travel nearly this far into the brush, and definitely not into the Shadowlands, where literally everything can kill you.

The adrenaline was something of a rush for the mineral baron. This adventure was just like those old hunting trips, really - minus the fancy hunting blinds, and the blackout amount of booze. "When we get out of here, gentlemen and lady, the nightly entertainment is on me", Ova said, hoping to raise Charred Dominion's slowly plummeting morale.

[...]

Then, the comms came through. The whole squad was on guard as there was movement in the clearing. True to the comms, someone or something was DEFINITELY in the clearing, trying not to be seen. Ova spotted clear movement in front of his eyes: something was parting the reeds near the water and pushing away shrubbery. Ova raised his POK Bowcaster, halfway pointing it towards the source of the movement. He couldn't see if it was a human being or a creature making the movements.

"Who's there?", Ova enquired nervously, quietly switching off the safety on the POK. "Show yourselves!"

He trained his weapon on the clearing, aiming for it. He wasn't taking any chances.