Chapter Text
Umbara lived up to its ominous name as they jumped into orbit, as dark and brooding from above as it undoubtedly was below. Wrecker had a very bad feeling about this.
"Umbara is a highly advanced planet despite getting almost no external light. They recently split from the Republic and were in the middle of negotiations with the Separatists when fighting broke out." Hunter explained the situation they were walking into. "There are two campaigns currently going on. The 212th are taking the city. Skywalker's 501st is tasked with taking and holding the airfield." Hunter continued pointing out the affected areas.
"There are some complications, though," Tech interjected.
"Like what?" Cross asked, looking over the terrain map carefully.
"General Skywalker was recalled to Couracant two days ago. And since then, all signals off the planet have been distorted." Tech explained, "Now, when I was going through the statistics, I found a series of anomalies. Now a lot of them are completely confusing, and it will take a while to make sense of it all, but I was able to make out one pattern that is quite concerning." Tech pulled up a dossier and a series of data points.
"Who's frog face?" Wrecker asked, squinting at the green Jedi whose species he wasn't familiar with.
"Pong Krell." Sajaun said quietly, studying his face, "Last time I saw him, he was an initiate. I taught him his Saber forms. A lot of raw power, if I remember right. Short tempered, though."
"Indeed, General Krell has a reputation for quick but destructive campaigns. Data shows he has a 70% fatality rate from his troops." Hunter agreed. Wrecker frowned, gut-churning unpleasantly at those statistics. That was a lot of troopers. A lot of deaths.
"He's throwing them away like credits." Cross huffed, glowering at the holo of the man's face.
"Past data statistics show that he's been winning where he should have lost and taking almost twice as long on campaigns that should have taken a few days." Tech continued, "In summary, data suggests he's been feeding them intel."
"He's a traitor." Wrecker found himself growling, anger rushing to the surface, that dar'manda was selling out vode for his own pleasure.
"So it would seem," Tech concluded.
"There's been a spike in data points recently." Hunter pointed at the rise in the holo graph Tech had pulled up, "We think he's going to jump ship soon."
"We need to get on planet before he destroys the troops he's with to do it." Sajaun decided, lips pressed tight together, clearly displeased.
"What's the plan?" Wrecker asked, pulling up the terrain map again.
"We need to take him out of play. Assume that all transmissions on planet are shot. We go in dark and take him." Hunter said, thoughtfully examining the map.
"We still have the Umbara natives to consider." Cross pointed out unhappily, "We go in dark; we'll be at odds with both sides."
"Not if we go in after they take the airfield. It gives us cover and a way to corral him if things go to the blazes." Sajaun said, moving the map over to center on the airfield, "Cross would have multiple vantage points, and we'd have options."
"We'd be walking head-in into it, though. It'd be a straight shot." Hunter pointed out unease clear across his face, "How do you plan to make sure we don't get shot before that?"
Sajaun huffed a mirthless smile, "You're all forgetting; you've got the Force and magicks running through you now; getting in won't be a problem."
"And once we're in, how will we get him?" Wrecker asked, frowning. Using their tenuous grasp on the magicks and the Force in battle didn't seem all that smart.
Sajaun hummed, staring at the holo map, "Umbara is the shadow world; darkness lurks. We get in right, and he'll come to us."