The shuttle hovered ten clicks away from the planet Zakuul, it's orbit swarming with sleek, golden tinted satellites that similarly colored fighter ships dodged between as they made a circuitous route around the monitoring devices and encompassed the planet. Fifteen minutes, Revan had told them. That was all it took for the fully automated fighters to circle around a planet that was, again, according to Revan, about the size of Coruscant and far more technologically advanced. Yuno and Revan had tried their best to brief the party on the current situation, yet the staggering amount of information was almost too much for Yerbol to take in. Thankfully there had been enough of a lapse in time between their exit from Revan and Yuno's makeshift briefing to their leaving Odessa that the Champion could ingest at least part of what they heard and wrap his head around it well enough to be an effective operative in the field. 

A hand grazed his upper back, Yerbol's eyes meeting Neta's normally sparkling green pupils. Yerbol valued Neta's ability to maintain her cool when the stakes were extremely high (as they normally were when it came to helping the Champions), but the cloudy hue of her irises and waves of erratic cautious slamming into his consciousness spoke to the concern she held about what they were about to do. He knew she wouldn't verbally express the anxiety she felt, almost wanting to answer her question before she spoke it:
"Feeling ok?" The Champion peered across from where he was seated, the small viewing window putting on display the very superiority of Zakuul's mechanized defense force. 
"Of everything that we've ever done, Neta, this...this is different." He recalled what Yuno had told them about the nature of their robotic enemies, how their control panels, circuitry and artificial intelligence were powered by a device similar to the Star Forge, which took raw Force energy from living creatures and poured them into...those things. Revan had added that he had faced the horrors of the Star Forge in person, how he and Malak had traded blows for hours on end thanks to the seemingly endless supply of energy the Forge provided Malak through the comatose Force-sensitives Malak had harvested on his quest to take over the galaxy. There was more that Revan had said he wanted to share, but their immediate course of action was to rescue another legendary figure who was being held at a remote base on a planet named Zakuul, which is where the seat of the Eternal Empire resided and whose Emperor, Arcann, wanted to extend his reach far beyond his remote corner of the galaxy and sweep across the universe as a reaper of the Force for his own ends. According to Revan, the Heralds were the only force standing in-between Arcann and complete annihilation of the galaxy, but the key to their success was a woman named Meetra Surik, canonically called "The Exile" in their own pocket of the universe. Yerbol had read snippets about a veteran of the Mandalorian Wars who had been exiled due to her actions, but he couldn't fully grasp her contribution to the galaxy until Malachor, when he had felt her resentment, her aching loneliness, the overwhelming sense of gratitude she felt towards Revan. In a strange way, he felt like he had known Meetra for years and yet she was still a myth, a stranger of legend who they were supposed to rescue. 

Wait until the Council hears about this...

"Might be a different galaxy, different people, but you know what's the same?" She pointed to his chest, jamming her index finger right above his ribcage. 
"You. Me. Ari. We've faced odds like this before and came out on top. It'll be exactly the same this time, too." The cargo hold where the duo were seated jostled gently as it proceeded forward. 
"Except this time we've got my apprentice at the controls of a ship headed towards a heavily monitored planetary hub. Why didn't you volunteer to steer this?" Neta shook her head, loose strands of vividly auburn hair lazily dangling in place.
"When I was training operatives, I always wanted them at the front lines as soon as possible. Can't learn how to deal with the pressure of operations until you actually face it. If they screwed up, they learned and hopefully had a chance to use what they learned to their advantage." She cocked her head upward, looking at the open hatch that led to the upper bay of the ship, which included the cockpit.
"Besides, this small of a cargo freighter is a breeze to handle. Shouldn't be too much trouble for someone who has the kind of experience he has." At times, Yerbol forgot that Ethan had experience with the Alliance as a foot soldier and pilot on aerial missions, both of which Ethan had talked about with great pride (he mostly spoke about it to Neta, but some details he revealed to his master). 
"Surprised you aren't at least supervising him." Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Eh, he's got your lovely wife, Kytra, A pureblooded Sith and karkin Revan up there guiding him. I THINK he doesn't need another voice telling him what to do." A few moments passed before Yuno spoke loud enough for the duo below to hear:
"Our ship codes were accepted by the transponders. We won't have much time until the docking bay droids send a distress signal due to our not showing up. We will drop down to the atmosphere in three minutes and descend, per Master Revan's orders, half a mile away from the compound. We will proceed from there." 
"Got it." Yerbol rose, half-closing his eyes while pushing aside thoughts, emotions and nervous ticks that wanted to manifest themselves. His breath slowed, muscles relaxing as his shoulders slumped forward. 

[i]The Force is One. The Force will always be One. The Force is Harmony. The Force is Life. You are the Force.[/i]

Suddenly, his shoulders snapped back, eyes opening on cue with the ship's sudden acceleration. 

[i]You coming down to join us, love? Or are you going to glare daggers at Ethan whenever he makes a wrong turn?[/i]

A smirk played across his lips as he turned his body towards the cargo ramp, leg muscles flexed in anticipation. 

He was ready.