Voden looked at his intelligence file on the man called Conqentor, a suspected Dark Jedi killer and harasser of Jusadih military forces.
"Sounds a little contemptuous, doesn't it?" his companion asked rather sardonically before quickly adding, "His name, that is."
The young Erinos 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 and his men are pushing through along the Chindar Valley and Jusadih commandos are dropping like meat flies."
"Can't take strong weather?" the companion joked, taking a nice long breath of the humid air.
Voden's eyes softened, but his voice betrayed no sense of amusement. "He's thinning his supply lines, such as they are. I propose to string them out further and when they are at their limit, blunt their thrust and finish them."
The companion watched as Voden 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 this Conqentor. I want to see how they're supplied, so let the desert 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!"
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Voden 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 meant to Voden that the enemy was being affected.
He was a bit surprised to only find a squad 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, effectively killing the rear guard instantly before dragging them into the hidden spots as if they never were there.
A nomadic trick but a smart one.
Voden almost 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 Voden nearly jumped, so intent was he on the slow advance of the man identified as Conqentor and his smattering of mercs left. It was old Garric, one of Voden's most revered field analysts.
The old man grinned, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"They're going to hit the oasis soon."
He nodded. The central oasis to the region was not far off. In fact, if Conqentor was smart, he'd realize that grazing grass meant water was nearby. In fact, grazing wraiths meant water was nearby.
Voden 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 shelter their pitched tends provided on the outskirts of the oasis.
"We're giving it to them?" he heard one murmur under his breath.
Voden grimly pressed his lips together. Not if I can help it.
He and his men were dressed mostly in a slight fabric which was the shade of the landscape. As they marched, their bodies soon became mirages as the oasis lay bare before the oncoming enemy.