*Kioet's ship touches down on the surface, Kioet opens the hatch, slings his laser rifle over his back, and hops out. He then walks towards the cockpit of the downed shuttle, pushing the annoying amounts of ferns and briars aside, Kioet makes it to the cockpit.*
Kioet: He's dead alright...looks like he broke his skull on the controls. But who cares, what the hell's he got in the pockets?
*Kioet crawls into the cockpit, and carefully drags Moff Seerdon's corpse outside and begins searching*
Kioet: Nothing so far. Maybe I should check the cargo hold. Wait. What's this?
*Kioet reaches down in one of the boots and pulls out a small datapad, Kioet presses one of the buttons on it and a holographic projection of an unknown system appears, followed by an encryption*
Kioet: Aren, I think I've found what he was looking for. Should I take the time to check the cargo hold?
Battle is a pure form of expression. It is heart and discipline, reduced to movement and motion. In battle, the words are swept away, giving way to actions-- mercy, sacrifice, anger, fear. These are pure moments of expression.