Morning Preparations

I arose an hour before break of day, quickly gathered my things and shook Spiderwell's sleeping form. The wookiee rose with a groan, wiping the sleep out of his eyes and the sand out of his white fur.

As Spider readied his medical droid and prepared his buffs, I knelt before the quiet embers of last night's fire and concentrated, trying to quiet my mind and feel the Force flowing through me. I tried to cast all images out of my mind and focus on sensing my immediate surroundings. As those became clear in my mind, I searched further out, expanding my internal vision in every increasing distances. The Force allowed me to see quite far, nearly into the center of Mos Nox, but it was not yet powerful enough to reach the Sith encampment further to the South.

When I returned to the immediate and opened my eyes, Spiderwell was already applying his buffs to me, grunting softly to himself in Shyriiwook as he did so. He noticed me open my eyes and asked, "Are you ready?"

I nodded silently, feeling for the first time that morning the weight of the task ahead of me. I turned my concentration to my inner body, feeling the power of the buffs' enhancement course through me like silver water. The initial elation of a buff can be psychologically addictive. There were many who, once they tasted one, could not get enough buffs, and eventually succumbed to an overdose of the powerful medicines. For this reason, I acknowledged the euphoric feeling, but reminded myself that it would pass, and set my mind firmly on the task ahead.

During the previous night, I had considered whether a stealth-based infiltration of the Sith encampment might be more prudent, considering the circumstances. Though I did not relish the thought of taking more life, however, I realized that these Sith would press an immediate attack on me, were I discovered. I sensed that the encampment was filled with more of the same tribe as the three who had previously attacked me. There was a great deal of hate to the South. If they truly were of the same ilk, they were not worthy of the consideration of preserving them. They were a scourge to be erased.

Since destruction of the camp was the only answer, I then considered whether calling in reinforcements, such as the Temple City Militia (who were under my sole command), would not be wise. I decided, though, that a large-scale involvement in this matter would likely raise more attention than would be helpful in the long run. If I could decimate the camp quickly and quietly by myself, the chance that a larger force might discern what had happened and come after me was relatively low. If I stormed in with a large assault group, however, the chances of leaving more detailed evidence behind grew exponentially. No, this was a solo effort. I needed to get in and out quietly, then cover my tracks.

Without being able to see into the camp from a distance, I could only sense their presence and create a general plan of strategy for the assault. I discussed a few tactical maneuvers with Spiderwell, mostly to reassure myself of the plan's validity, then rose and swung my leg over my waiting Speederbike. I flipped the ignition switch and the engines erupted with a roar, spewing bright blue flames into the early morning air. With a nod to Spiderwell, I was off.