[b]Naraal Vrail, The Hask[/b]

Sweat stuck to his skin after the skirmish he had with Master Kadan. He had to admit that the Dark Side... no, The Sith, was a formidable bunch. He was lucky to had made it this far, to had been placed in such a fortunate position, he realized. The Source believed him to be weak; he knew this much to be true. Since he had arrived, he'd only been spoken as so, it made him wonder if the opinions of Suade, Kadan, and now Vera, was right or not. 

Regardless if they were, fussing over it in his head would do nothing. He needed to clear it all away, push it to the back. Or better yet organize it all. Taking a seat outside the cockpit, leaning up against its steel side; he closed his eyes and tried to put his emotions in order. 

The voice of Suade and Crusade spoke up in his mist-like thoughts; they were, while vastly different in tone, echoing with a guiding presence. [i]Ease up, cleanse the fog and prepare yourself for what may happen. Worst case scenario, you kill more people...[/i] He told himself calmly. 

---

[b]Gideon Lilac, Coruscant[/b]
 
As he passed by large towers and sections of the symbol of the Jedi, the grand home of all servants of the Force, he felt an odd feeling pull at his head. He paused in his steps, a tattered boot stopping on its toe as a foreboding over took him. A small fit, undecipherable but attention-grabbing. He moved his golden eyes to the cosmos above, the covered speck of gas hidden by the sky. 

“Something... isn't right.”