Star Wars || Shadows Rising

CHAPTER IV

The trip down to the surface of Onderon was to be hot and cramped, but, thankfully, brief.

Qui-Gon had chosen security over visibility and stowed away at the very back of his chosen C-9979 landing craft. He had been pleased to find a small corner between pieces of machinery near the engines hot enough to mask his heat signature – or so he hoped. On ships such as these, the entire propulsion system was automated, and maintenance checks were rare. If the Force was with him, as he sensed it would be, then none would come his way for the duration of the flight.

Although Qui-Gon's visibility was next to none, he was far from blind as to where they were going, nor to how fast. As the landing craft took off, its engines rumbling to life to carry it down to the surface below, he lapsed into meditation, sinking deeper and deeper into his unconscious self without completely losing grips on the present moment.

Before long, he was able to send his thoughts racing on ahead of him, probing for information about where they were going and what the plan of attack was.

In his mind's eye, he could see the planet Onderon clearly, with Dxun hovering just beyond it, drawing nearer and nearer until there came the slight shudder of the landing craft breaking atmosphere. The Force thrummed and sang through all the life that dwelt upon planet and planetoid-moon alike, from the frailest blade of grass to the wisest of the scholars at the University.

For a moment, after the cold, near lifelessness of the Trade Federation ships and landing craft, Qui-Gon was overcome by an intense sense of relief that felt almost like a long-awaited homecoming. As any Jedi knew, where there was life, there was the Force, and where there was the Force, there was balance and peace.

But despite that, he could not to ignore that hovering like a fog around all beings nearby, sentient and non-sentient alike, were intense, primal feelings of fear.

He shook it away after a moment, looking past the emotions and focusing on physicalities. Distantly, he sensed the capital, Iziz, and the half-dozen smaller cities scattered throughout the canyons and jungles nearby. That was their final destination, he was sure of it – after all, it was only logical that forces from the lead Trade Federation vessel would go to the most strategically important areas.

But the landing craft Qui-Gon was stowed upon was beginning began to veer away from its original vector now, heading instead towards a smaller group of settlements at the southernmost point of the continent, while others flew on ahead, arcing along parallel or opposite vectors to get around... something.

But what?

Qui-Gon searched deeper, taking the risk of partially releasing his grip on his surroundings to zero in on the faint flickering of the droid pilots' communications. Before long, in scratchy, half-decoded chatter, the answer came to him: to the north were force fields broad and strong enough to shelter the entire Izian region from days of orbital bombardment; the guns on a C-9979 and the tanks within wouldn't even scratch them.

The capital city's defence against the variety of savage beasts that roamed the nearby jungles had just become its saving grace; an optimal landing sequence there would be impossible.

There was a moment of sudden lightness as the artificial gravity was cut in favor of relying solely on the natural pull of the planet itself. Taking this as a sign another drop site had been found and that the landing sequence was about to begin, Qui-Gon came back to reality and extricated himself from his hiding place.

Taking care to stay as close to the engines as possible for protection from the internal scanners, he crept toward the center of the landing craft, dodging patrols here and there as he felt the disturbances caused by their approach.