𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘧𝘪𝘵𝘴
Or
In which Raya Hraefn, a warrior belonging to the long detached traditionalist-Mandalorian house of Ordo, breaks out of the republican pr...
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PROLOGUE 'hunter and prey'
her dual had the elegance of a swan, and the raging savage brutality of an off-world predator, alas, I like her better if she was buried six feet deep
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"Hunter, did you find anything?"
The creaking of plastoids mixed with the serene sounds of forest and river, as the male clone commando sergeant of the clone batch 99, cautiously raised his comms-covered and armored hand to his mouth. His deep browns scoured his green-covered surroundings carefully, his brows raising suspiciously as he answered Tech, "No, not yet. But I have a feeling that we're close."
The squadron had gotten themselves a mission alongside the Jedi Master Depa Billaba and her padawan Caleb Dume, to track down some insurgents who had vandalized properties of many well-off merchants and a few senatorial streets of Coruscant. And they remain the only suspects who tried bombing the senate a few days prior. According to the intel the Jedi Council had received, the said insurgents were tracked down to this outer-rimmed moon and the planet it revolved around, whose name the team didn't seem to remember or care about, except maybe Tech.
Hunter felt a certain twitch in his nerves. A twitch, he wasn't sure he could decipher. He was pretty sure, whatever it was which was making him feel this way, was somewhere nearby. But what maddened him the most was the fact that he didn't exactly know what he was searching for, or what was making him feel this way. And the feeling wasn't bad either, it didn't cause him any sensory overload, in a way it sort of soothed him. Like someone had injected intoxicating spice into his blood. Or poured water into his parched throat. It was fleeting of course, the feeling. Like a static com-link twitching whenever it was near a proper signal.
