The jungle was quiet, in the way of jungles. The sounds of insects, rustling leaves, and scurrying creatures filled the space between the trees with a dull roar that was interrupted often by the calls of distant birds, but it was all easily and naturally tuned out by any who spent more than a few hours in one. That was a fact of necessity more than convenience, as anyone who didn’t wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, and more relevant to Remy’s current situation, they would not be able to hear any sounds that were distinctly out of place.
Through the Force she felt nothing more than a group of five ewoks moving towards them at an unnatural speed, which she began reacting to immediately by charging right back. The more concerning problem is that they did not run like ewoks. To the best of Remy’s knowledge, the small tree dwellers did not tame mounts for battle, but the quick, rhythmic thumps and cracks were of particularly heavy cavalry. Not what she would expect in any ecosystem so choked with roots and underbrush, doubly so from what she knew of how they repelled the Imperial occupation, the only true knowledge of the species Remy had ever bothered to learn. Waiting until the last second, Remy reached out with one hand and used the Force to flatten all of the underbrush between the spot where she had started and the mystery ewok knights, giving Saint a clear sightline and herself a good look at her opponents.
Impossibly, her opponents seemed to be riding squat, quadrapedal droids of all things. All five were whirling a sling in one paw and tucking a long spear under their other arm like lancers in miniature, only responding to the clear view with battle cries in their high pitched voices. Igniting Beckon, Remy kicked her feet forward into a slide and swung out to cut the spearhead off the central knight. Shoved forward by the momentum of her supernatural speed and the force of her jetpack, she twisted and kicked upward, carrying the droid into the air as the rest tried to swing their lances around and spear her. One managed to carve a furrow through her left arm, but they otherwise blew right past the Jedi and kept on their charge with an angry stream of ewokese. Remy then kicked down with the same strength and straightened, her jetpacks nozzles aiming to spring her upwards, and she made a grab for the knight that was now comically flying through the air. Before she could grasp the furry creature, it whipped the sling out with a curse that was certainly vile, despite her inability to understand it, and she turned the grab into a strike that made the creature fly backwards into a tree with enough force to make an audible crack.
Landing, Remy looked up prepared to face another charge, but saw two smoking wrecks, two ewok corpses, and two fleeing knights, Saint hopping down from the low bough of a nearby tree.
“Now that’s not somethin’ ya see everyday…” he mumbled as he turned one of the broken droid mounts over with his foot.
Like everything the ewoks made, it had the appearance of something ramshackle. In lieu of armor there was bark, and everything was tied together with ropes of dried vines. The mounts appeared to be the lower halves of a pair of common worker droids tied to the bottom of a log. Like everything ewoks made, it seemed to function like it was designed for the purpose, despite looking like any scrap one might find built by children living near a junkyard.
“I see. Not what I had expected, but it makes sense,” Remy stooped to prod at the one droid-log that remained standing, “Ewoks have remained technologically stagnant for centuries, but have learned to make the absolute best of everything they get their paws on. They beat the greatest military the Galaxy has seen in the last millenium with sticks and rocks.”
“An’ now they had decades ta learn how ta make use o’ the old Imperial gear left on world,” Saint gave a whistle, “Any chance ya think they got blasters an’ AT-ATs at that temple?”
Remy stood and looked in the direction all of the retreating forces had gone. This was proving to be far more annoying than she had planned for.
“Not… likely. Any gas canisters have likely long been used up or expired, and vehicles like that have too many sensitive parts to go this long without an actual mechanic to keep them up.”
ST-10 finished a slow loop of the area and stepped closer to the other pair, “These mounts are still powered, somehow, and no battery is lasting that long. Do you think they figured out plasma generators too?”
Saint rubbed the chin of his helmet and nodded sagely, idly thumbing the safety on his rifle, “Yes, an’ no. Sustenance Reactors, most called ‘em. Could stuff ‘em with anythin’ that burns an’ they pump out power fer anythin’ ya need. Empire used ‘em for any settlement that needed constant power but couldn’ justify settin’ up a whole permanent power network n’ what have you. If’n anybody knows what grows fast an’ burns hot on Endor, it’d be these fellas.”
Remy started moving in the direction she was watching. No point in waiting unless she had days, and she most certainly did not.
“Then no vehicles or blasters, but energy shields, lasers, any number of functioning droid pieces reworked into weaponry and traps…”
“Say no more,” the Mandalorian interjected, “Ah wanna be surprised. Ah’ll do some scoutin’ an’ meet ya there.”
Remy turned her head to look quizzically at him, but when she did, he was already gone.
“He does this sometimes. If I had a heart, I would have hypertension.”
The droid waved a nonchalant hand and locked its blaster to its back, “I will run ahead to catch up sooner. I know most of you fleshy types require stamina management, but I would suggest being quick if you want to be a part of the coming battle.”
Remy had no response to offer before ST-10 took off at a run, its ungainly and rigid stride somehow not tripping it up on the thick root systems sprawling on the forest floor.
It was almost satisfying to immediately pass the droid. Remy's jetpack was a product of the recent war, so it wasn’t that surprising that they didn’t recognise it as one, but did it really think she had just walked all the way out here? Regardless, it was going to take a while for that MFX to catch up to the two “fleshy types,” and it briefly made Remy wonder if droids could feel shame.
That was unimportant, however. What was far more important, was that she could only kind of Sense the ewok “hunting party” that had chased Saint to her in the first place. She could feel many of them, somewhere in the twenties to thirties, but they seemed to… fade, occasionally. It was difficult to parse, but it felt like there was some column of smoke in the Force, and the enemies were walking into it, becoming hazy before disappearing, then later coming out the other side. In truth, that meant there could be any number of combatants in there, which was concerning.
It didn’t take long for her to spot her… ally seemed too strong of a word, but it would have to suffice for the moment. Saint sat almost lazily on a branch with his rifle's scope to his visor, looking across a small valley to the steep incline on the other side. It was obvious what he was looking at. Not only was the other side of the valley crawling with ewoks, but it was armored. The paths and switchbacks that criss-crossed the slope were covered by foot tall walls of durasteel plating, with small bunkers sticking up like shiny, vine-covered boulders dotting the hillside. It was all still cobbled together, of course, but short of high explosives, Remy knew that wouldn’t matter. Ewoks didn’t do things halfway, and durasteel was durasteel, no matter who stood behind it.
“This is concerning,” she said as she lowered her altitude to Saints bough, “Any chance surprise will matter?”
“Oh, they know we’re ‘ere,” Saint said, turning to face her.
An arrow stuck out from the glass of his visor. Either he was short of an eye, or it was close enough that he would have a hard time blinking without cutting his eyelid. Raising his rifle again, Saint turned back to his inspections.
“The ‘huntin’ party’ was ta bait us back ta this ‘ere fortress. They’re pretendin’ they don’t know I’m ‘ere, but ah…” he shrugged his shoulders, “Marchin’ like soldiers ain’t mean they got th’ discipline.”
Remy crossed her arms as she turned back to the fortifications. An entrenched, heavily armed enemy with far superior numbers and a planned ambush. Things were finally beginning to feel like a normal job.
“Wait, you said they were camped in the temple? Is this just a forward garrison?”
Saint chuckled and motioned with his blaster to the whole encampment.
“What’re ya talkin’ about? Ain’t Jedi supposed ta know their own temples? It’s overgrown and ‘alf crumbled, but that’s it.”
Remy’s brow furrowed with frustrated realization. The small caves the ewoks were ducking in and out of… were rather square. And the bits of exposed stone here and there were all the same color; white, not the normal mottled greys and browns of stone in this area.
“This place must be ancient, then. It explains the cloud in the Force, they must be… doing something to it in there.”
“Yep. Doin’ somethin’ ta all kinds a normal signals too. Thermals, comms, even mah rangefinder ain’t workin’ right. Think they messin’ with some Jedi artifacts er somn’?”
“I don’t see what that could…”
The behavior of the ewoks changed. Instead of scampering hither and thither, they began to consolidate and gather, mostly towards the top. Drums began to beat, and the largest group of ewoks outside of the largest cave began to cheer as some door inside opened, letting actual black smoke billow out. More of the mounted knights followed quickly behind, shoving the more eager of the ewok soldiers back.
“Lookin’ like they’re tired a waitin’. If’n they got some war leader, this might be easier than I thought. No shields, far as ah can tell…”
True to his word, one ewok about half again as large as the rest climbed out of the black smoke, this one actually wearing armor that seemed glossy and black. Channeling the Force to her eyes, Remy looked closer, details seeming to jump out to her. Indeed, they were wearing black plastoid armor over a patchwork bodyglove, much of it apparently melted into pieces to fit, but the breastplate seemed to be a pauldron of the original set. Emblazoned on that was the symbol of the old empire, painted in silver. They held a staff of polished wood with a chunk of electronics on the end in one paw. The far more concerning bit was that this new ewoks eyes seemed to be focused right on hers, like they were standing no more than a foot apart. Bright, yellow eyes.
A single blaster shot rang out, almost covered by the sounds of increasingly aggressive cheering, a bolt of orange energy slashing through the sky towards the dark ewok. Then, a short beam of red plasma ignited and swatted it right back.
“They found an Inquisitor's old things, it seems.”
Saint craned his head to the side to let his own blaster bolt whizz by, then nodded.
“Give ‘em hell, Knight. We got yer back.”
Remy let her jetpack drop her to the forest floor with a thud, then began to stride, clearing her mind and igniting her sabers. Time to go to work, chances be damned.
