CT-7723 -a Star Wars Story-

The Treeline's Edge

As the LAAT Gunship lifted off from the hangar floor, the hum of the repulsorlifts filled the cabin, blending with the ambient noise of the engines. Condor stood near the open doorway, helmet secured, one hand gripping the overhead rail as the ship banked gently, heading out into the vastness of space. Around him, his men were silent, focused on the mission ahead.

Rook's voice crackled over the internal comms, breaking the tense quiet with his usual irreverence. "So, did you hear about the Jedi who walked into a cantina on Nar Shaddaa? Bartender says, 'Why the long face?' and the Jedi just—"

Condor cut him off with a smirk, "Rook, maybe save the comedy routine for after we've landed. Wouldn't want you distracted during the descent."

"Ah, Lieutenant, you wound me," Rook replied, his tone mockingly hurt. "But don't worry, I've got a thousand more where that came from. And speaking of descents, we've got clear skies ahead—should be a smooth ride down to Ontaron. Nothing like a leisurely drop into a potentially hostile environment to get the blood pumping."

The clones in the cabin chuckled softly, the levity helping to ease the underlying tension. Even Barriss, seated across from Condor, allowed herself a small smile. The young Padawan seemed calm, but Condor could see the alertness in her eyes, the way she was already mentally preparing for what lay ahead.

"ETA to Ontaron is fifteen minutes," Rook continued, his voice shifting to a more serious tone. "We'll be coming in low over the northern mountain range to avoid detection. The LZ is a glade just south of the mountains, should give us some cover while we assess the area."

Condor acknowledged the update with a nod, his mind already turning to the terrain analysis he'd reviewed earlier. The northern mountains would offer a strong defensive position if they had to dig in, but the dense forests could pose a challenge in terms of visibility and movement. The glade, however, sounded promising—a natural clearing that could serve as a temporary base of operations while they scouted the surrounding area.

The Gunship shuddered slightly as it hit the planet's atmosphere, the hull vibrating as the ship adjusted to the change in pressure. Condor tightened his grip on the rail, the movement automatic, instinctual.

"Prepare for landing," Rook announced. "This is where the fun begins."

The LAAT dipped lower, skimming the treetops of Ontaron's dense forests. Condor could see the blur of green beneath them through the open doorway, the tops of ancient trees passing by in a rush. The mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks shrouded in mist, adding to the planet's rugged, almost foreboding beauty.

As they neared the landing zone, Rook couldn't resist one last comment. "You know, Lieutenant, I've been thinking... if we run into any of those predatory wildlife the brief mentioned, do you think they'd go for the shiny armor first? Just asking for a friend."

Condor rolled his eyes behind his helmet. "Just focus on getting us down safely, Rook."

"Roger that, sir," Rook responded, his tone all business now.

The Gunship slowed, the repulsorlifts kicking up dust and debris as it hovered over the glade. Condor could see the clearing now—a wide, flat area surrounded by towering trees, with the mountains rising to the north. It was an ideal location for an LZ, just as Rook had described.

"Touchdown in three... two... one," Rook counted down, and the LAAT settled onto the ground with a soft thud. The doors slid open with a hiss, and Condor was the first to step out, his boots sinking slightly into the soft earth.

"Platoon, disembark!" Condor ordered, his voice firm and steady.

The clones moved quickly, fanning out into a defensive formation around the Gunship. Barriss was close behind, her lightsaber hilt clipped to her belt, her eyes scanning the treeline for any signs of danger.