[i]Hundreds of men and women ran about in haste upon the warship, and all Varen Del-Kar could think about was his vision. He remembered the soft rustling of trees amidst a great jungle, a jungle with darkness blacker than the deepest cavern. Beasts growled, and the insects clicked and scratched and buzzed. A single fire, and a man in black. Varen remembered demanding the stranger’s name but receiving no answer. It was an odd sort of dream, where two sat by firelight but shared no words. The only thing the stranger did was point to the flames. Varen followed the pale, skeletal finger and watched. He watched flames lick and dance against the dark, and within the light he saw the future. Warriors, his warriors. There were blades, there was fire, and there was death. A promise of glory and either victory or death with the highest honor. This, this was a good vision. A promise of the times to come, a promise of the ultimate test for a Mandalorian. With the clans beaten and scattered, his dreams had all but faded. The cloaked man’s fire was a manifestation, he realized; the flames were his words. A glimpse into the future, and the power to become the ultimate leader of his people. Varen accepted. Dark, obsidian steel armor, a grand golden helmet passed down from one conqueror to the next. The hulking mass of a sentient being observed the expanse of space, seeing but one thing. Opportunity. He saw a stretch of planets and soldiers, and opponents to test his might against. His resolve for a battle of the highest order could not be sated, and that vision turned a dream into a crusading reality. “Mandalore.” Came the name that would forever replace his original identity. It was the way things were, the way they must be, when the call of the title falls upon a man; a man must answer. And he answered. “What of the plan, Commander, is everything moving as it should?” The commander, clad in golden tan armor nodded. “Yes, Mandalore. Feraxis does not suspect an attack, however their Royal Fleet orbits the city as usual. We are in range for hyperspace warp.” “Can we warp behind the fleet?” “Mandalore, sir?” “Don’t waste my time, simply answer the question.” “We… we could, but the risks of crashing into the fleet are there.” “The Royal Armada of King Haergeras is a supremely capable fighting force, despite a frontal assault they do not expect. At least, that’s what’s been written. This will be the first attack on a planet in Republic territory, and Feraxis is considered a bastion of military strength and power. Not only this, they have valuable minerals for weapons. I’ve selected this very moment on purpose, Commander. It was shown to me that here will be the place the sword falls first. It won’t be enough to fight head on despite my knowledge our fleet is superior. We must break them in two, scatter them in a crazed panic. The entire galaxy will be watching the events that unfold today, and I want to send them to their beds with fear in their hearts. The Mandalorians have come, and our victory will not be denied… Prepare the hyperdrive, and set our fleet’s course behind the Royal Armada’s projected position.” Overcome by fear, and a rising sense of warrior pride, the Commander understood why the man before him was the one true leader of all the clans. “It will be done. For Mandalore!” He placed a fist over his chest and took his leave. The Mandalore dropped down into a kneeling position and put his fists together. He went into a deep warrior’s meditation. “My name shall be written upon the stars in a trail of fire and blood.”[/i] [center][b]Kale Jerikko Dantooine[/b][/center] The inside of Kale’s room was no different from any single Jedi’s residential space. A square room, nondescript with a bed and a desk, and a window for looking out over the peaceful fields of Dantooine. From padawan to master, the order did not care for luxury or the concept of rank besides what came with time and gained wisdom from training. In other forms, each member was equal, and the desire for gaudy things exemplified greed inherent in the dark side. However, the one feature in this room was Kale’s storage of alcoholic drinks from various cantinas all over the galaxy. Most Jedi tended to be non-drinkers, but Kale still had the wilder side of his padawan days within him. Moments to be merry and share drinks with friends was of value. Good conversation cannot be replaced by anyone since the conversation will never be the same. He hadn’t had a talk with Markus in a long time. “Please, sit.” He gestured to one of the chairs by his table. Kale popped open a cabinet that was filled to the brim, like he was a private bartender. “I’ve been saving this for the right time.” He grabbed a bottle and two glasses, filling them with ice. “It’s the finest Tarisian ale, aged well, and straight from the Taris Upper City. Just don’t tell the council that I could have purchased them a better archive droid had I not bought this.” He chuckled. Liquid cascaded over the ice, causing the ice to float to the top of the glass. He sat down next to his old friend and held his glass up. “Here’s to old friendships becoming new again.” Kale took his first sip. “So… What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” [center][b]Master Kasari Coruscant[/b][/center] Kasari felt a pang of regret as Major Athos shared his story about her padawan. She sighed in response, “Perhaps it was too early for me to push her into the training that I did. It was not a usual method I’ve ever entertained, but Xeviiy may be the most talented padawan I’ve personally trained with here on Coruscant. She has a gift with the force, and a child-like drive that I envy somewhat. She’s learned much, and learned quickly over her time with me, but as a Jedi it is an imperative to understand the importance of saber combat.” She glanced to Anna before pointedly looking at Leon. “You were once a Jedi, and you’ve experienced one of the most terrible wars of our time. The Sith threat is one that is ever present, and should never be taken lightly. Xeviiy lives in a world where she remains naïve. She believes all problems won’t have to be solved with her weapon, that she can talk anyone out of a battle and the ensuing chaos. So, over time she’s been a bit more rebellious against combat teachings; sometimes to the point where I felt she wasn’t actually gaining anything due to her willful rebellion against the teachings internally.” Her thoughts passed over the silver white hair and the mysterious gaze of Master Arren Kae. Hearing from the Major made Kasari feel something of guilt. She did not agree with Kae’s methods, but they provided tremendous results like the padawan prodigy on Dantooine. “I don’t know if you ever knew Arren Kae before you left the order, but I sought her out for help. She’s a Jedi Master among our order. Her intelligence goes beyond what I can ever hope to know, her connection to the force is something to behold, and when she wants to make a point she can cut through your own beliefs with more force than a lightsaber. I’m afraid that’s what happened to Xeviiy. Arren, within a supervised training session, was able to provide a vision-like trance. She took Xeviiy to a different place where a mercenary had killed a husband, a daughter, and his own ally. Xeviiy had to protect the mother, and living child. She tried to fight the man, and eventually succeeded but not without fatal wounds and the cost of two lives. Arren believed Xeviiy’s lack of resolve cost the husband his life. Not fighting has its consequences too. So, if Xeviiy is seeing someone other than you in training; it’s the mercenary from her training dream. Perhaps you could look for Arren to discuss this further… With Xeviiy going on your mission, I am incapable of joining your squad but Arren has a will of her own that the council doesn’t always approve of. I believe whatever is troubling Xeviiy can only be overcome with her help, even if I myself question the woman’s methods.”