"When dictatorship is fact, revolution becomes a right." -Victor Hugo (1802-1885)
Geonosis wasn't supposed to be this cold. As a desert planet, the first word that Jorgo thought of when considering preparations for an extended stay on the ringed planet was "hot." Luckily, the all-temperature cloak he had packed provided him with equal protection against the cold as it did heat he expected. The same could not be said of the dozen Geonosians that trailed behind him. Used to operating outdoors under the blazing sun, and remaining sheltered from the cold nights in their towering spires, this trip was especially harsh on them. Jorgo had done all he could by providing three of the bugs his trio of spare cloaks. He had made sure to offer them to the winged members of the species first. If he had offered them to the wingless peasants, the warriors may have taken it as an insult and left, something he could not afford at this critical juncture.
Dark, featureless desert stretched out for as far as the eye could see in all directions. Hopelessness and despair set over Jorgo, and those feelings, in addition to the extensive wounds he had received earlier in the day, fermented the desire for him to simply collapse and give up. He twinged with pain as his master rewarded him for his renouncement of the cause. Newfound courage born of fear allowed him to form a desperate plan in his mind. He slowed his walking to a halt. The dozen beings tailing him followed suit, silently. After a moment or two, one word broke the silence.
"Vikkal."
The Geonosian whose name was just called walked forward, and stood next to Jorgo, eager to be of some use. Vikkal understood basic, the only member of his party who could. "Vikkal, find the nearest abandoned spire. I don't care what was in it before. We need a place to spend the night." The Geonosian stood silent for a few seconds, then nodded slowly. A flurry of clicking and whistling sounds filled the night as the Geonosian's conversed with each other. Jorgo picked up some of what was being said, but the exact words were indiscernible. After roughly a minute of this conversation, Vikkal threw off his all-temperature cloak, and took to the skies. Jorgo heard the wingless drones fighting over who was to wear the cloak, but was indifferent to their struggle. He watched Vikkal fly until he became little more than a speck on the horizon....
Geonosis wasn't supposed to be this cold. As a desert planet, the first word that Jorgo thought of when considering preparations for an extended stay on the ringed planet was "hot." Luckily, the all-temperature cloak he had packed provided him with equal protection against the cold as it did heat he expected. The same could not be said of the dozen Geonosians that trailed behind him. Used to operating outdoors under the blazing sun, and remaining sheltered from the cold nights in their towering spires, this trip was especially harsh on them. Jorgo had done all he could by providing three of the bugs his trio of spare cloaks. He had made sure to offer them to the winged members of the species first. If he had offered them to the wingless peasants, the warriors may have taken it as an insult and left, something he could not afford at this critical juncture.
Dark, featureless desert stretched out for as far as the eye could see in all directions. Hopelessness and despair set over Jorgo, and those feelings, in addition to the extensive wounds he had received earlier in the day, fermented the desire for him to simply collapse and give up. He twinged with pain as his master rewarded him for his renouncement of the cause. Newfound courage born of fear allowed him to form a desperate plan in his mind. He slowed his walking to a halt. The dozen beings tailing him followed suit, silently. After a moment or two, one word broke the silence.
"Vikkal."
The Geonosian whose name was just called walked forward, and stood next to Jorgo, eager to be of some use. Vikkal understood basic, the only member of his party who could. "Vikkal, find the nearest abandoned spire. I don't care what was in it before. We need a place to spend the night." The Geonosian stood silent for a few seconds, then nodded slowly. A flurry of clicking and whistling sounds filled the night as the Geonosian's conversed with each other. Jorgo picked up some of what was being said, but the exact words were indiscernible. After roughly a minute of this conversation, Vikkal threw off his all-temperature cloak, and took to the skies. Jorgo heard the wingless drones fighting over who was to wear the cloak, but was indifferent to their struggle. He watched Vikkal fly until he became little more than a speck on the horizon....
