Naat Reath never did like desert planets.
It reminded her of Tatooine with her first master, back when she was barely old enough to really comprehend much of the war. All she knew was her brother and the vengeance she desired after she heard a Sith Apprentice had ended his life. It almost felt like eons ago. It was eons ago. Three eons, to be exact.
She wondered if she had made the right choice, to hide her master’s self-imposed exile from the council. She wondered it every single night since she told them that he had perished with Sev’rance Tann. In part, she had convinced herself it wasn’t a lie. The dark side had consumed her master in his final duel with Tann, after all, and nobody knew the temptations of the dark side when enthralled by vengeance as well as Naat believed she did. It remained a landmark experience that she refused to forget going forward as she and the forces assigned to her continued to investigate Ossus and battle the Separatists who had followed them to the husk of a world.
A husk of a world that had remained eerily quiet over the last three days.
She wasn’t sure if the Republic was winning the war or not. Even on a small, isolated world like Ossus, the Sepratists were present. Not only were they here, they were searching for something and Naat’s arrival in the last month very nearly caught them off-guard. They were fighting nastily and desperately; they didn’t have the kind of resources they had on Genosis or even Sarapin so they had to approach them with a different tactic. It was a different kind of fight. More different than any she had fought before. Their intensity was overwhelming and they knew the planet well. Too well. The clones had trimmed down their forces well since they arrived, though whatever bases the Separatists were operating from, they hadn’t found all of them. They hadn’t driven them out yet and Naat's aptitude with the force was not great for tracking things down. She was a Knight, not a Sentinel or Consular. It was one of the reasons she had called back a request for aid from Coruscant. As far as she could tell, such reinforcements had yet to arrive.
While the call for reinforcements from the Republic had already been made, something concerned Naat. Despite the guerrilla war she had been fighting there was little-to-no word from the enemy. No blaster fire. No detonators. Nothing. Had the clones she had grown fond of not been conditioned against such things they would’ve felt the same doubting concern she did. Maybe it was the echo of the past. Ossus speaking to her through the force; clouding her mind and filling it with anxiety. She couldn’t be sure, but any adept would be able to feel the ghosts of the past.
“Commander. Bantha 3 has entered orbit.” One of the clone troopers spoke up, causing Naat to look up at the skies as she pulled a stand of blonde hair behind her ear.
“About time.”
Her comment was one of relief, though she couldn’t quite place why, but the air just smelled wrong. She had a bad feeling.
As she tapped her communicator to the frequency of Bantha 3, she nearly jumped back as she pulled the metallic device off her head in an instant. A distant explosion. Panic. She pulled the communicator back, “Bantha 3, this is Commander Naat Reath. K—”
Naat bit her lip as the line went dead. She looked back at the sky, trying to see any kind of trail of smoke and fire.
How had the separatists been waiting for their reinforcements? How did they know? Did they hack into their communications? She narrowed her brow, before one of the troopers shouted out that there was activity in the valley below. Without thinking she jumped on the nearest speeder to her right and flicked the ignition.
“Commander?”
“Don’t worry about me! Make sure that valley is clear! You’re in charge until I get back!”
As the speeder flew in the opposite direction of the valley, Naat hoped that everyone on the Bantha 43 had survived. She hoped she could find it only knowing the general direction. This was not how she expected the day to go.
----
By the time she had passed into one of the few areas on Ossus with overgrowth of Bambwood and Kingwood trees, Naat’s communicator came back to life. She had kept it set on Bantha 3’s frequency, though it was rough; a distorted static covered the reception like flies to a dewback. The voice was female—a jedi? If there was any good to come out of Naat’s situation, it was that the Republic had sent another jedi as part of the reinforcement detail. She listened closely as she received proper coordinates and the speaker's name. Charuri Rol.
The blonde punched in the numbers, ducking between several trees as she moved forward in the forest toward Bantha 3's direction.
“Charuri? This is Naat Reath. I read you. I’m on the way. Get clear of the landing zone. You might have separatists on you very soon.”