Star Wars - Vanished

Chapter 01: Search

The planet Karvo was a world in decline. Industrial complexes spanning miles had been long abandoned, their towering smokestacks no longer belching smoke and fumes into the rusty brown of the polluted skies. The surrounding cities, fueled by the production facilities' activity, had been emptied as well, their buildings falling into decay.

A small transport shuttle descended through the maze of pipes and catwalks stretching between structures like a metal spider web. Sensors checked the surrounding area, but the heavy concentration of metal in the factories played havoc with the scans and made conclusive readings impossible.

Standing beside the pilot, and surveying everything through the cockpit window, was a tall man draped in a brown robe over a tunic and pants of dark tan. Clipped to his belt was the gleaming handle of a lightsaber. As black as space, the hair covering the top of his head and the lower half of his face made the man's pale blue eyes seem more intense.

Seated in the rear compartment of the transport were three soldiers. Similar to the pilot, they wore white armor painted with splotches of brown and dark red to better blend with the surroundings of the crumbling industrial center of the city.

"Pardon me for asking, but why are the Jedi be interested in a rust heap of a planet like this?" the leader of the squad of soldiers asked.

"It's possible the Separatists might be able to repair and repurpose the old factories to produce battle droids," the Jedi replied, turning away from the view to answer. "Considering the scope of the facilities available here, you can imagine the problem it would create if they succeeded."

"If the droids are here, how can we find them with all this metal cluttering up our scanners?" the trooper inquired. "We can't tell the droids and the factory apart."

"Battle droids are made to fight, not build," the Jed reminded. "Usually, they have one or more people in command, and they're the ones we're after. We'll have to look for signs of activity before going in for a closer look personally."

"Why don't we just blast this scrap heap from orbit?" the soldier questioned.

"There are still people living here," the Jedi countered. "Our fight is with the Separatists, not the locals."

"Understood, Sir," the trooper acknowledged instantly. "I hope the locals have the same attitude."

"So do I," the Jedi agreed. "What's your name, soldier?"

"CM-4878," the squad leader announced.

"Trying to remember and say all those letters and numbers is going to be difficult, especially if we get into a fight," the Jedi remarked. "How about we simplify things? CM. Since you're the leader, let's make CM into Commander."

"As you wish," the newly named Commander accepted.

"Good," the Jedi accepted. "What about your squad?"

"The one with the rotary cannon is TK-9902," Commander explained. "LN-2245 is carrying the sniper rifle, and FR-3163 is our pilot and technical expert."

The Jedi scratched his beard absently while thinking.

"TK has the biggest gun, so we'll call him Tank," the Jedi announced. "LN can be named Long Shot for his rifle's long range capabilities, and FR can be Fixer because of his technical and mechanical expertise. Any thoughts?"

The troopers nodded to each other in silent agreement before Commander replied.

"It works for us," Commander said. "What about you?"

"I'm Olmar," the Jedi answered.

"I've found a place to set down," Fixer reported from the pilot's seat.

"Good," Olmar accepted. He turned back to the cockpit view to inspect the chosen landing site as they approached. When satisfied, he removed a respiration mask from a concealed pocket inside his cloak and put it on to protect against the polluted atmosphere. The curved plate of dull gray had a grove in its outer surface in the form of a T where the optics and sensors were installed, and the depression glowed a soft blue.

Kicking up a cloud of bronze colored dust, the transport landed smoothly, a side hatch sliding back to allow the troops to exit. The soldiers spread out, pointing their weapons at the nearest buildings as if expecting to be attacked. Commander held up a pair of binoculars to the eye ports on his helmet, scanning the structures for possible threats.

"All clear," he reported, putting the binoculars away on his belt.

Olmar and Fixer were the last to leave the transport, taking position in the middle of the widely spaced ring the other three squad members had established in front of the hatch.

"Sensors and alerts activated," Fixer reported as he pressed a few switches on a hand held control device. "Anyone tampers with our ship, and we'll be notified instantly."

"Good," Olmar accepted. "Let's move out."

Olmar took the lead, stepping past the soldiers, as he was in overall command of the mission. His pace into the ruins was moderate and a good deal slower than he usually walked as he was on high alert for possible ambushes. He reached outward with his senses and the Force, checking for any disturbance that might signal the presence of the enemy.

He felt certain he was being watched, but it lacked any sensation of aggression, so Olmar thought it might simply be the people who still lived here, those too stubborn or too poor to leave when the planet had started its slide into its current state. Some of them weren't a threat, merely curious about the strangers in their domain.

Something darker registered in the distant edges of his perceptions. He tried to focus on it, but it moved away from him as if he were trying to grab a handful of smoke. Olmar decided to adjust his search of the industrial complex in order to head in the general direction of the odd sensation. Whatever it was, he thought it worthy of closer examination to determine its true nature.

With the squad following cautiously behind him, Olmar guided the way toward their unknown destination.