Festival of the Hunt - Days 4-5

Hovering over the forest in the Razor's Edge, Maligaant looked to Vash and asked, "What kind of sign do we have?"  Vash smiled, tapping the sensor display and replied, "We have at least 2 separate camps and if I'm reading this correctly sir, a pack of Nexu as well!" 

"Excellent" Maligaant muttered.  "There aren't any clearings here boys and girls, gonna need one of you to stay behind with Razor and keep an eye on things. Who's up for some babysitting?"

After several awkward moments, nobody wanting to volunteer apparently, Maligaant appointed Traest,

definitely the worst shot of the squad but a capable pilot.  

As the squad lowered themselves down into the forest canopy,  their view of the ship was obscured and the height became very real.  At least a couple hundred feet to the forest floor!

Maligaant adjusted his position a bit as he slowly scanned through the group of murderers and thieves with his Micro's. They were a disgusting looking lot, no  doubt about that.  Well equipped as well!  As he looked over each member, of this gang of criminals, he took careful note of their gear.  (Draigon squad leaders get to keep what they kill or apprehend.  This is important since part of being a Draigon also meant that when he was ready to actually recruit his own men he'd also have to outfit them himself, responsibilities of leadership and all that.)  These thugs were equipped with a pair A280's, a pair of DLT'-20's, 3 heavy battle helmets,  2 heavy battle armors, and many other valuable and useful items. Turning to his squad he made a few motions with his paws and claws, relaying orders and firing positions for each member.

These outlaws were moving, marching through the glacial wastes in a very straight line to the south west of the sector.  Guessing that they wouldn't change direction, Maligaant and his men boarded Razor's Edge and looped around the bandits landing 20 clicks out and directly in the path of their intended targets.  A very dense snowy mist, stirred up by high winds made even enhanced vision difficult, this was going to make the ambush much easier.  He organized his squad into an  arcing pattern, intending to engulf the bandits from their front and both sides once engaged, and then set about waiting to spring the trap.

Time ticked by very slowly, or at least felt as if it did, as they waited for their prey.  The freezing harsh winds seemed to bite at him as well.  Mal's data pad beeped as a message shot onto the screen. It was Vash, "Perhaps they changed direction?" Snarling under his hood Mal's fangs were clearly visible now, typically a sign he was either amused or irritated, Mal wasn't amused.  Extending a fore-claw he began to type a reply but then stopped.  Movement!  There, just outside of the snow flurry. His sharp Togorian eyes narrowed as he focused in the direction. Was it just the snow? or was it ... it was! Slowly he leaned into his rifle lowering his eye to view into the scope as he centered it on the now emerging figures.  His prey had arrived and the party was about to commense!