[hr][hr][center][h3][b][i][color=d86615]Raynor Blake, Jedi Knight[/color][/i][/b][/h3]
[color=6ecff6][i]21 pts (Light-Side)[/i][/color][/center][hr][hr]	[color=d86615]"Right, the charges,"[/color] Raynor muttered. He should have known that. He hated that he hadn't known that. The wear and tear on his body and mind was beginning to show. He turned, seeing that Emzie had the charges on them. Raynor knew more or less how they functioned - they were standard issue, the sort used on all jobs like these. But a relatively new design for the Grand Army of the Republic - an older droid might not know how they worked. [color=d86615]"I can do it,"[/color] Raynor assured Emzie, reaching out with a shaking hand and grabbing the bag of charges. 

	He started towards the core, only to stumble and fall to the ground, the bag of charges spilling out around him. Then, the last line of defense of this droid factory showed itself. It came up from the ground, a horrific and noxious gas. Raynor's vision immediately began to blur. He cursed under his breath. Some Jedi were able to hold their breath for extended periods of time, calling on the Force... but he had already called on the Force so much. And the gas started to sting. Emzie would register that this gas was a chemical warfare weapon used by the Separatists to take out organic matter, whereas droids and whatnot would remain unharmed. 

	[color=d86615]"Place... the... charges..."[/color] Raynor choked out, before he lost consciousness.