Kal stays two paces ahead of Morad's glowstick; a tall dark shape against the shadows. With no helmet, he didnt want his night vision ruined by the glare.

He also didnt want to see any of the rough edges of the hand-carved and weather-worn tunnels. Every bootstep echoes down in front of him, every drip of water carries from the darkness. Kal could already feel his chest tightening, almost imagine the weight of his katarn armor and his pack. Unconciously, his Deece settles into his hands and he stoops slightly into the sideways movements of a commando on a mission. His mind told him this was Corellia, but every fiber of his senses told him this was Geonosis...

The shuffling of scurriers becomes the distant chittering of insectoid warriors, the traffic above becomes the sounds of a droid factory. It isnt a jedi boy shuffling behind him; it's the bootsteps of his brothers.

'Advisor, request status update of 38's team.' Twitch makes the same calls he did years ago, but it all seemed perfectly normal. 'Advisor, come in.'

"It's the rock." says the Commando to voices Morad cant hear.

'They're probably right on schedual, Delta always is, the showoffs.'

The bacta is doing its work, the commando is able to function, but the wounds are still there, and blood still soaks his shirt. That scent would surely drive any creatures mad.

Ahead, no doubt, there is some deep stiring, Kal's finger rests on his trigger. "Chief, bugs. Request weapons-free."

'Granted. Get ready, squad, this is going to get bloody.'