Yerbol agreed with her idea about potentially getting the word out on the Net, seeing as they've learned just how powerful the dissemination of information can be. If it wasn't for their tactical release of information about Bracknell or the broadcasting of multiple events regarding the Qyaari and the Alliance, who knows if their ventures would've actually succeeded. He wanted to add onto his statement of agreement, but then his wife oh so casually mentioned dying alone. Not okay.
"Hey, if YOU'RE going anywhere, including down, I'm coming with you. You don't get to play the bold martyr without me by your side." As the shuttle dropped out of hyperspace, he quickly reached over and gave one of his partner's hand a squeeze.
"We'll figure this out. Just like we always have."
Hoth and Tattoine shared an overriding similarity that, in Yerbol's mind, canceled out their obviously differing landscape: SOME kind of aggravating aggregation of particles covered the ground. Whether that was frozen water that coagulated into mass heaps of ice that threatened to derail even the savviest of war veterans or the gritty sand dunes that could, at a moment's notice, be whipped into a storm, they were both dangerous planets that the Champion had no intention of visiting unless under extreme duress.
This counted as one of those times.
"Kartan, where exactly is the outpost?"
"Just have to circle around some of the more popular ports to avoid Hutt detection. Those slugs have been aware of us for a while and have disrupted our ability to trade at posts." Vaerth mumbled something indistinctly, to which Kartan retorted clearly:
"And you think it's an accident that our pilots have come back without supplies because at specific drop points unknown to anyone but us, there are Cartel members waiting with carbine rifles and heat seeking missiles? You know we're not the only ones to have this happen to them." Yerbol cast a quizzical glance at his partner before reaching out to her to avoid verbalizing the thought:
I don't think it would be beneath Manus to somehow involve the Hutts. I mean, they've been particularly annoying the past couple of months according to Alliance intel, but for them to know this kind of information about the network is troubling.
Before Ari could respond, Kartan's shuttle visibly dipped beneath the rare haze of sterile white clouds that swarmed the upper layers of the atmosphere, commanding:
"Just follow my lead and dock right next to me. I'll do the talking."
"Well to think that I would actually meet two Qyaari in person, let alone THESE two!" The ruddy, obviously muscled young man who came to meet the shuttles motioned to the Champions grandly after nearly shouting the sentiment he voiced.
"A good delivery indeed!" Kartan chuckled lightly, placing a hand on the visitor's shoulder before introducing him:
"Yerbol, Aria, this is Yaim Kilso. He was one of my Padawans before all this. Now, he's the son that I can't get rid of and in charge of making sure our people here are taken care of. The boy has a knack for securing an outpost like you wouldn't believe." Yaim beamed proudly at the description.
"It's an honor to meet you both! I know that a lot of us don't exactly like the Qyaari, but I say screw em. You guys have done a lot for us, made it easier to actually function as someone who uses the Force." His shoulders sunk momentarily, the weight of past events still a burden to him as they were to probably every Force user. Bracknell scarred them all.
"I'm happy to know that we're not just universally hated by anyone who isn't a part of the Order."
"Now don't get me wrong, I've got-" Kartan interrupted(a habit of his?):
"Yaim, we didn't bring them here to discuss issues. They're here for support, nothing more."
"Well good! Cause we've got a problem that could use their support." Kartan grimaced.
"Sandpeople again?"
"Don't know. A couple of hours before you all showed up, I sent out a few of the scouts to repair the sensors for the turrets around the supply depot and they haven't reported back in. We've lost so many already, so I couldn't risk sending out more people to look for them. You think that maybe you could help?"
"Of course." Yerbol quickly answered, adding:
"Point us in the right direction and we'll do what we can."
"Yeah, sure."
"This would be appreciated. Once you two come back, we should have an appraisal of the situation on our end and see if your accusations have any merit."
"Fair enough."
"And be careful around the dunes. Some of them hide Sarlaac pits."
"Sarlaac pits." Yerbol mumbled angrily under his breath as they forged along the sand, eyes cast in the direction they were heading. Occasionally he looked to his left, a massive rock wall in the distance obscuring whatever was on the other side or to his right, which was where his partner was located. Along with more sand.
"Couldn't we visit more planets like Quensu for missions? I mean, yeah, there were frozen ice demons, massive beasts engineered by the True Sith to kill intruders and all that, but at LEAST there was bloody variety." He looked down at his nav unit, the blip representing the supply outpost still around three hundred yards out. Thankfully they hadn't been walking too long("Our depots need to be close by, but not TOO close to draw attention" Kartan told them.) and in the distance there were dull red lights that flickered intermittently.
"Sensors?" Approaching a bit further led to an unexpected discovery.
"A Gamorrean?" The circular shaped "pig on two legs" was lying belly up, mouth open and throat slit cleanly.
"No blood. Saber probably. A vibrosword or dagger would've left something behind...unless the sand covered it?" A few meters away lay a Rodian and a human with the same mode of death.
"It was rather clear that the outpost here is made up of almost exclusively teenagers and a few in their early twenties. Without guidance, getting the jump on these three and executing them so cleanly would be difficult, right?" There was no other sign of battle and their weapons were still sheathed.
"Do you think that the Faceless were here? Maybe they wanted to take over the depot?"
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