When you are traversing the wild and untouched landscapes of the savannah, just remind yourself that you are never the apex predator. The vast and desolate area of sand, rocks, dead and ancient trees are all the same blood-orange color for a simple reason: to hide your worst nightmare from your sight, the Akul. A large, quadrupedal and orange furred mammal, the Akul are the top predators that hunt all sorts of bovine, dog, hooved and giant mammals. Using their extraordinary sense of smell, they can trace your scent from days long past and track you down without mercy.

Throughout the Savannah, tall and wispy Turu-grass stretches out into long ranging fields. Watering holes are sparse and spread thin, and the terrain offers little safety from the blazing sun that hangs overhead. When the sun retreats and gives way to moonlight, the Savannah becomes almost chill, but the night is dark and full of wild creatures. In the Savannah, it’s hunt or be hunted.

Jon strolled through the tall, oddly colored Turu grass of Shili, whistling a tune. Sure, he wasn’t having the best day, what with crash landing in the middle of nowhere, but he’d be damned if let that get him down.

After all, he’d completed the mission his Scholae Palatinae handlers had given him, hadn’t he? He’d stolen valuable information from an Odan-Urr ship, and dammit, that hadn’t exactly been easy! If they decided to complain because it was taking him a bit longer to get it back to them then they wanted, well, he’d just have to charge them extra!

...Well, more extra anyway. Ship repairs weren't cheap.

Jon heard something, and paused. He’d heard stories about the predators on this planet, and knew better than to let his guard down. But this...wasn’t the sound of rustling grass that he would’ve expected from a predator stalking him.

Jon recognized the sound a second early, and dodged just under blast of lightning, still close enough for it to singe his hair.

Jon spun around, Shiro already drawn and armed in his left hand. He didn’t wait before firing off a volley of blasts at his assailant. Blue met violet, and the amethyst lightsaber scattered the blasts in a multitude of directions, sending up small brush fires in the surrounding Turu grass that threatened to spread.

A Miraluka wielding a violet lightsaber stood just behind Jon, scowling at his apparent failure to end the fight immediately. Jon tipped his hat.

“Not many manage to get the drop on me, so I’ll give you credit for that, Jedi,” Jon said as he drew a knife from his jacket. “But I do tend to take murder attempts somewhat personally.”