This place was eerie. Primarily overrun by AMS, he couldn't believe that he'd been allowed to come here at all, even with a Jedi Knight. This was where people really went to die. But he was going to be a great Knight someday, and that meant the couldn't be afraid of anything, just like he was sure Master Drast wasn't afraid of anything.
They'd been sent to help extract a group of locals who had only narrowly managed to get a signal off-world. Varyn couldn't even imagine what they had been through just to get that far. He didn't want to be cowardly, but as he looked at the empty streets, deadly silent, he felt a nagging, horrible feeling in his gut. His mind started going to what it was like to be eaten alive by these things or turn into one.
He shook his head slightly, shaking the thought out so that he could focus on the here and now. The more his mind wandered to other things - good or bad - the greater his chances of meeting that ill fate.
He gripped his saber even tighter in his hand, though the fact that it was only a training saber meant that it was good for little more than a bludgeon to keep the infected at bay. It wouldn't be cutting anyone in half, and he was starting to wish that he had a real lightsaber... for the 18,000th time.
Master Drast, he whispered. Isn't this where we were supposed to meet the civilians? Where are they? he asked, hoping for insight that Waxillum almost certainly couldn't and wouldn't have.
They'd been sent to help extract a group of locals who had only narrowly managed to get a signal off-world. Varyn couldn't even imagine what they had been through just to get that far. He didn't want to be cowardly, but as he looked at the empty streets, deadly silent, he felt a nagging, horrible feeling in his gut. His mind started going to what it was like to be eaten alive by these things or turn into one.
He shook his head slightly, shaking the thought out so that he could focus on the here and now. The more his mind wandered to other things - good or bad - the greater his chances of meeting that ill fate.
He gripped his saber even tighter in his hand, though the fact that it was only a training saber meant that it was good for little more than a bludgeon to keep the infected at bay. It wouldn't be cutting anyone in half, and he was starting to wish that he had a real lightsaber... for the 18,000th time.
Master Drast, he whispered. Isn't this where we were supposed to meet the civilians? Where are they? he asked, hoping for insight that Waxillum almost certainly couldn't and wouldn't have.