(OOC:Sorry. I was tired when I posted.)

Alexandre was a war man, he no longer cared what people thought of him, because he knew what he was. He was a fighter, he knew he couldn't fail, he knew he was going to be a success. He could feel the massice heat of this planet. Humidity so strong it made grown men feel like their lungs were being crushed.

Alexandre Fal-Cona knew what wars and battles were like, he knew that they were life threatening, he knew that they destroyed men not only physically, but mentally. He no longer cared, he had nothing to be alive for, and that was exactly why he was still fighting.

"Men, follow me!" Alex ordered a squad of soldiers. They did is they were told.

I have all these men's lives on my shoulders. Why do they still move as if it's nothing? Alex knew the answer to this he always asked him self why he still moved as if it was nothing.

His answer was... because he had nothing.

Jerras looked at his intelligence file on the man called Fal-Cona.


"Sounds like an overgrown bird doesn't it?" his companion asked rather sardonically.

Jerras shrugged. "The files about as thin as a razor wire. Either we have a man trying to make a name for himself or he's someone no one wants."

The other leaned in, "So the big question is, who the frak is he and what the frak does he want?"

"Well, all that matters to me is that he's pushing his mean along the Chindar Valley and they are dropping like meat flies."

"Can't take strong weather?" the companion joked, taking a nice long breath of the humid air.

Jerras' eyes narrowed. "They are thinning their supply lines, such as they are. I propose to string them out further and when they are at their limit, blunt their thrust and cut their lines in the middle!"

The companion watched as Jerras stabbed his knife down on the map before them and grinned. "Roll up the ends and we'll bag the lot of them!"

"I don't care about their leaders. I want to see how they're supplied so let the jungle have the point if they try to get away. We roll the rear and follow their trail back to their origin. Then...then we can find out where the frak they're from!"

"There's a pack of wraiths over there," a man said just as Alexandre shot at them.

The wraiths didn't charge instead they just kept grazing closer and closer to Fal-Cona and his men. Fal-Cona was tired of this. He started walking closer and closer to them and ordered the troops to give him cover fire. He kept shooting and shooting at them until they fell. Fal-Cona smiled when it happened.

That's how life is so easy to end Fal-Cona thought remembering what his father would tell him. Too bad it isn't harder he thought with a smirk just as he ordered the troops to follow him down the valley.

Alexandre was wondering why there was little resistance.

It has to be a trap! he realized almost instantly.

"Men! Stick together and hurry up!" Fal-Cona yelled to the troops who slowly did so. He was getting angry and angrier with them and decided to dismiss it, hoping they would recover from the 'funk.'

Fal-Cona's chest felt like it was going to explode, but he continued on. He didn't want to look weak, because he wasn't.

Alexandre looked over all the troops and noticed one in particular, he was acting wierd, it wasn't heat stroke weird, but suspicious wierd. Fal-Cona dissmissed the suspicion, but it still was pushing at his mind.

What could he be doing? Is he a spy? Alexandre had all kinds of questions like these running through his mind. He was a very paranoid person, but even a trustful person who is barely paranoid would have a hard time suspecting that there was nothing wrong with the trooper.

"Getting tired of staying with these guys," mumbled Fal-Cona. "I should have killed the straggler, but 'no!' I'm going to need them. They're slowing us down, which makes us hotter, more tired, and it akes it so we use up our supply quicker!"

Alexandre continued moving, but still mumbled and looked back at the stragglers, and then the weird acting troop. Alexandre could tell his eyes must have been red, from how sore they were and how much sand he got kicked in them.

Alexandre looked at the stragglers and weirdo again.

Jerras almost smiled under his breath as he watched the troops from afar. Only the men within hearing distance moved to bunch up and when they did they fired at a group of grazing wraiths.

Took them a while to hit the beasts too.

Which mean to Jerras that the enemy was being affected.

He was a bit surprised to only find a squadron of men and cursed his intel that indicated there were more. It seems the heat was playing all sorts of tricks today and he knew the longer he waited the worse it would get.

Still, while the enemy began to bunch, they left their rear guard behind and in the gap, his soldiers had instantly jumped up from their hidden spots in the ground killing the rear guard instantly dragging them into the hidden spots as if they never were there.

A nomadic trick but a smart one.

Jerras used to be one of those who would hide in the 'hole'. He envied them now as the ground was cool and offered protection from the sun. Already the rising heat was burning away the humidity and the resulting evaporation played tricks on the eyes.

A touch on his shoulder and Jerras nearly jumped, so intent was he on the slow advance of the Imperials. It was old Garric.

The old man grinned, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"They're going to hit the oasis soon."

Jerras nodded. The central oasis to the region was not far off. In fact, if the Imperial was smart, he'd realize that grazing grass mean't water nearby. In fact, grazing wraiths mean't water nearby.

Jerras turned back to his men, noting that those with suits of a rubbery substance were starting to bake as the sun rose. They shifted uncomfortably but said nothing.

"It is time." he said and slowly, those with him began to leave the temporary shelters on the outskirts of the oasis.

"We're giving it to them?" he heard one murmur under his breath.

Jerras grimly pressed his lips together. Not if I can help it.

He and his men were dressed mostly in a slight fabric the shade of the landscape and their bodies soon became mirages as the oasis lay bare before the oncoming enemy.

Alexandre continued to patrol the horizon as they were moving on. He looked back and continued to see stragglers, he was angry about this. He still continued on mumbling about how they were lazy.

Fal-Cona realized he was getting weak feeling, too. He swept the cold sweat off his forhead which landed on the groung. The heat and humidity made everything sticky, it was unbearable, helooked over to the horizon to see the sun still up.

We still have a ways to go Fal-Cona thought continuing to look at the stragglers, then the horizon, and finally his sides. At the slightest sound he would jump towards the sound, gun in hand, ready to fire.

As twilight began to settle on the marching men, they came to an oasis with several moisture detectors errected around the site. There were small prefabricated storage units large enough for several men to go inside and sprawl around as the air turned cool.

The sun that seemd to remain high in the sky for so long was falling as the troop continued onward. For soldiers not used to the environment, their persistence was admirable.

The blistering sun was fading and so was it's hold on the land but not without leaving it's lingering effects.

The man in charge of the march noticed that his numbers had decreased, probably due to the heat.


As the soldiers settled into a rest the sounds of night creatures filled the air.


Jerras watched in the shadows at a distance as the enemy made camp.

Fal-Cona continued on frowning and looking back at his weakened troops. Obviously all the damage was from the heat, he felt pathetic, being beaten by mere weather. He looked into the direction of where him and his troops were heading.

Alexandre looked back to his troops they were decreasing every step of the way. It was sad, more like pathetic, but still sad. Fal-Cona rubbed his wet forehead again, he was now panting a little, he was still mumbling to himself, but it was much quieter now, not much though.

All of the sudded Fal-Cona heard fire fron his left and he turned around to see one of his men firing at a few other people holding guns that were turned towards Fal-Cona. Alexandre saw it as a bonus in a few ways, but not in others.

Why are not shooting yet?! Fal-Cona screamed in his head, he fumbled his gun a little, but then started in on the action, they shot down all of the enemy, but one man got away.

"Let him go! He is no threat to us!" Alexandre yelled to his men. "We need to keep going, there might be more of them!"

Beroc turned to Jeras as the Imperials began to shoot at something off to the side. Jeras and Beroc raised questioning glances wondering if any of his men revealed themselves.

"Who's supposed to be there?" Beroc demanded.

Jeras shook his head in bewilderment. "Myril is supposed to be moving that way but to have done so this quickly? Not even a Chin in his prime could do that.."


His voice trailed off as he noticed young Seath making his way to their position, taking care not to disturb the surroundings. Just because it was getting darker was no reason to become lax.

"The caravan.." Seath rushed out as he gasped for breath. "They shot up the caravan. They were approaching from Istan..."

"Old Gieg started early.." Berdoc mused sadly.

"Any survivors?" Jeras asked but the young man shook his head in regret. He didn't know.

"Look!" Beroc motioned back to the oasis and Jeras, following the outstretched arm, saw that the Imperials were pushing on.

"What are the Imperials doing here? What do they want?" Seath asked but Jeras could only shake his head in bewilderment.

"They're heading into the Badlands", Beroc commented and Jeras was torn between his urge to kill the Imperials and his curiosity to find out more about them.

An idea formed in his mind.






Through the darkness, a figure walked up toward the marching Imperials. He was unarmed and had his arms spread wide.

"Hello!" he shouted to the advancing soldiers.

He waited to see if anyone of rank would approach.