Sci's Datapad

Thunder. The roar of the heavens enveloped Sci as he trudged through the sludge of the battlefield. His cloaked troops followed their general, who was just knighted not three weeks earlier. This was his first test; a baptism of fire... and water. The war had split the Republic into shattered shards - the Mandalorians had a vast stronghold in the outer-rim, and had all but surrounded the Republic. The Jedi Council, wise as they were, had urged patience as the tumult unfolded to find the route behind the aggressive motions of the Mando'ade. One Knight, however, could not stand idly by and watch the Republic die. This Knight was Revan. Along with his charismatic comrade, Malak, Revan rallied a large number of Jedi Knights to go with him to the outer-rim in the hopes of destroying the threat. One the many hundreds that answered Revan was Sci, a young Jedi Knight who was himself thinking of rebelling from the Council's will. This battle was the first step of Revan's cunning plan, though the price would be immeasurable. The heavy rain made the Jedi General's armor speak in soft pattering. The hum of his lightsaber made the men feel more secure. The small collection of soldiers was making its way up a muddy slope, in hopes of flanking the enemy on the rainy, mud-ridden planet of Dxun. The dropship which put them there had already suffered immense damage - the hull was ridden with carbon scoring from the ion cannons. It had careened down in the muck, smashing into a mandalorian outpost. An intense battle ensued between the Mandalorians of the camp and the hodge-podge of Republic survivors. The Jedi General had gotten himself separated from the troops. Sliding around the wet, muddy grass, dodging Mandalorian fire and vibroblades the General made quick work of the younger Mandalorians. He also managed to slay half a dozen of their strongest warriors before what was left of his crew managed to break the enemy lines. The costs were already staggering. Nearly one hundred died of the vessel during the descent, a dozen more in the crash, and nearly fifty in the fight to secure the crash-site. Sci's silver lightsaber twirled and then disengaged. "Captain, how many men did we lose?" he asked. There was no response. "Captain?" "He's dead, sir." broke in a bloodied sergeant, who rose slowly from the fallen corpse of his commander. The Sergeant had a deep gash in his left side, and his uniform was soiled with mud, grass, and battle-gore. The General sighed painfully, "Then we press on. Take some of the rifles from their armory, get some blaster bolts - we're going to need them." The mauled sergeant rthen asked, "Sir... we... what of the dead?" After a moment of deliberation, Sci said ponderously, "Every second we spend with our dead kills the Republic: kills us - we must hack through the jungle and get to the top of ridge. Then we can establish comms with command and see where we may best serve." "As... as you command, General." The band commenced hacking through the lush, green jungle, toward the razor sharp mountains in front of them. The rain abated for a while, but the dark, ominous clouds remained ever vigilant. The thick foliage came with an assortment of wild creatures, many as hostile and exotic as the environment which spawned them. The occasional Boma beast rampaged through the jungle path the men were following, making the path extremely difficult to pursue. More often Cannocks harrassed the party. It seemed there was some sort of malevolent beast every fourty meters. As Darkness began to fall, the cold, wet men huddled together and set up camp nearly three-fourths the way up the path. They had no idea what awaited them in the darkness, nor how many would long sustain the wounds they had already suffered...