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Time is wasting. You eagerly spring into motion, footfalls carrying your frame across the plains. It’s so open up here, and you can’t help but notice the things that are Different.
The ground gives way more than you’re used to, the surface almost squishing down with each step. Particles speckle your frame’s feet, dirtying it.
And the sky, the glowing orb of the sun has descended below the horizon, leaving only the big white rock of the moon, some smears of clouds far above, and thousands of points of light above. Your sensors focus and record all of it. Your sisters will appreciate it, definitely.
The western road you follow is scored by the tracks of many tanks, vehicles, and the march of walkers. It’s mostly dirt, large enough for a double column to pass down, and lighter footprints alongside the road mark where scouts paused and scanned.
The horizon lights up with far-off explosions, and a bright orange laser flashes across the sky. Some Empire forces are still out there.
As if on cue, you start catching the edge of a high-intensity jamming field. The fight is close, very close, and extending your own jamming from Predator will block anyone that detects your frame from reporting in.
You visually acquire a Strider scout walker, the small stepping frame racing at top speed in a zig-zag evasive pattern in the distance. It attempts to turn on a dime and skids, mounted machine guns and lasers chattering and sending the beams behind it.
