[center][sub][h3]Feena, Jedi encampment. Early 14th hour, Jedi Master Gar Halcorr.[/h3][/sub][/center]

Pulling his lightsaber out of one of the creatures, Gar looked reprovingly at Vebra. “Hah. Rodents?!? These are no mere rodents, my young friend! Though unusually small in size, there is no mistaking their nature: These creatures are Sithspawn.” He disabled his near-white lightsaber, hooking it back onto his belt. “Even now that they are dead, I can sense how the power of the Dark Side oozes from them. Tuk’ata, they are called. Sith Hounds. If there had been any doubt before about a powerful Sith residing here, the presence of these [i]vermin[/i] firmly put them to rest.”

“Not to order you about, Master Fa, but from the frolicsome nature of the local wildlife, it appears wise to set up a barrier around this compound. Preferably something able to withstand creatures the size of fully grown rancors. There is no telling what may be out there.” as he said this, he casually waved towards the surrounding jungle. He knew it wouldn’t be easy to set up proper barriers in jungle like this, but at least the general slope of the terrain would mean that not everything would wander this way. Hopefully.

The battle, short though it had been, told him yet again that he was getting old. If the mission hadn’t been this important, he would gladly have gone elsewhere, maybe find some younglings to educate. But of course, he couldn’t do that. Not with so many knights and padawans in the hands of the Sith. He wouldn't truly be able to rest until they were saved from whatever fate the Sith had in mind for them. If that meant working with this Strike Team, then so be it.