[center][b][color=6ecff6]Master Kasari and Arren Kae[/color] [color=39b54a]Coruscant[/color][/b][/center] Master Kasari noted the arrival of Moryr with a returned nod of acknowledgment. She raised her finger to her mouth to signal a need for silence while the other master continued her work with the padawan at the table. Arren Kae was a different breed of Jedi Master, Kasari always thought. The way she taught contradicted much of what other master’s believed, yet there was no arguing with the results of her teachings. Her apprentices became strong and firm, capable of standing without breaking against the currents of difficult choices. In the back of Xeviiy’s mind within the vision, Arren Kae’s voice softly brushed her consciousness. “Your path is never unhindered. Even when an enemy seems to be blocking the path, the only one in your way is you. The only question is: what will you do?” And within the vision of the family in danger, it seemed Xeviiy had made up her mind. The mercenary by the wife and child appeared affected by the use of her mind powers. He seemed hesitant, slowly pulling his rifle away. “I don’t want to do this… I’m going to--!” The sound of a red bolt of blaster fire blew his face away, sending the man crumpling to the ground dead. On the other side was the mercenary with the father, he shoved him over to his wife and child. Boots crunching heavily against the ground. “I told you not to pull anything funny, Jedi…” The gun raised towards the father’s head, and then he pointed it over at the wife and child. Slowly, deliberately, like he was making a choice. The time for Xeviiy to decide was now. There was no choice given like the ones shown in holo-movies. The great heroes of the entertainment world were presented with black and white choices, heroic options that made them appear like paragons of justice and light. However, this was different. Was it just a vision? Everything about it seemed so real, right down to the last detail of the farm home. A framed holo-photo seen through the window opening. Scuff marks on the side of the house, footprints in the dirt. A slowly setting sun. There was no verbally provided selection of options. Do. Or do not. Blaster fire rung out again and the father crumpled to the ground in a sickening limp crash against the dirt. Lifeless. Still. Limp. His face stared out at Xeviiy, and eyes that were moments ago bright with fear were devoid of anything. The spark that was human life and emotion had faded into nothingness. There was only the smell of smoke and the burnt skin of his chest where he had been shot and killed. Now, the mercenary slowly began his turn to the mother and child. Arren Kae remained silent as death itself. [center][b][color=a187be]Anna Sparvic[/color] [color=a2d39c]Coruscant[/color][/b][/center] “Something tells me we’re going to a cantina and you’re just going to get yourself in trouble.” Anna remarked when he made his joke about overthrowing the Republic. “I’ll make sure not to report your joke to the higher ups, sir. For some reason I feel the humor would be utterly lost on them.” She continued to follow him into the park as he pulled out a cigarette and began to smoke. Floating vehicles flew through traffic above them, or stopped completely in the often horrendous Coruscant traffic. Anna cringed at the sight of the cigarette, her face curling into an expression of absolute disapproval. “No thanks, I’m partial to my life sir. You do know that those are literal death sticks you’re holding, right? Might not be a blaster, but you might as well be shooting yourself with one over a span of twenty or more years.” Drinks and smokes, Anna didn’t understand either one of them. Willfully poisoning the body seemed positively insane if one thought about it for a reasonable amount of time. Though, once Leon went into the feeling about being in combat with fellow soldiers. Anna’s disapproval disappeared. Rather, she was more like a child caught up in a well-told story from a mother or father. Lost in the awe and wonder of it all. A jealousy and an air of appreciation and respect. Sometimes she forgot Leon was a war hero, even though that’s what made her excited to serve under him in the first place. At times he wasn’t what she expected a hero to be, but when he talked like this: it made the holo-vid portrayals of the man seem much more real. Of course, Anna wasn’t without a sense of disagreement with him. Especially when it came to paperwork. “I think you’d find a lot of us who didn’t serve in the Great Sith War because we were too young wished we had been able. You shouldn’t be so quick to judge us ‘pencil-pushers’. We might not be on the front lines yet, but we make sure the order of the Republic stands and it functions. Long hours with no appreciation. We don’t get medals for resolving crimes and other matters that might seem minute to you. Like, like returning a sentimental memento to someone who lost somebody to a murder or something else. We do good work, and I’d like it for you to remember that… Sir.” Anna didn’t want to give him a chance for rebuttal. “Lead the way to your secret criminal organization, sir.” [center][b][color=662d91]Aria Blair and Alek Garrus[/color] [color=f7941d]Dantooine[/color][/b][/center] “I’ve heard of Org!” Aria seemed to be pulled away from her mental restlessness at the moment, drawn into her student-driven fascination of learning all she could. If she was about to duel either one of these Jedi in front of her, it would do well to study them. Aria measured Ken carefully, noting his calm. She sensed a certain connection with the force, and knew because he was a Knight it meant he should not be taken lightly. Not that that mattered, Aria never took any opponent lightly if she was forced into a lightesaber training match. Zhar knew of her resistance to fighting, but Aria also hadn’t actually lost a duel to any other padawan within the temple. He sat in silence, allowing them all to interact. It was his hope to push Aria beyond her bounds and hopefully push her into the direction of recognizing the importance of mastering the blade. Mastering the lightsaber was like mastering oneself. “I’ve heard much about you Ken. I’m happy to meet you. And you too Alek, your actions on Tatooine are much talked about.” At that Alek nodded his head in acknowledgment. “I only did what was necessary.” Necessary. Aria wondered if there was more to the situation, but perhaps he was right in what he had said. She sensed a certain aggression to him, and he carried himself with power. It could be a ruse, a front, but somehow something within the force made her doubt that. “Are we to be dueling in a certain fashion, master?” Aria turned to Zhar. “Yes, yes. I’ve brought Ken here to test your combat techniques. He’s amongst the finest of our Knights, and I believe you have much you could learn from him. You will each have a turn dueling against him. One on one. Afterwards, you will take your lessons from that duel and face each other.” It was a lot of fighting Aria thought, more than she had engaged in for quite some time. “I leave it to you who goes first.” Zhar stated. Alek stepped into the ring after grabbing training shielding and a training saber. The blade shimmered with the blue vibrancy of a Jedi Guardian. “I hope everything said about you is true. Practicing with my fellow padawans on Coruscant has become rather dull.” Zhar smiled at this, for Alek was sent to him for this exact purpose. The imposing figure of a Jedi had grown excessively comment. For good reason, he had developed far faster than most had expected. But, Ken Grant would be his first true test. Aria grabbed a yellow training saber and patiently waited her turn, taking a seat next to Master Zhar. “Watch them carefully, Aria. I want you to study the ebb and flow of the battle. When Jedi lock blades, it is a movement of the force. A dance, if you will.” She never understood the idea of elegance fitting battle, especially an art like dance. But, nonetheless, Aria nodded. “I will watch carefully, master.” Alek readied himself on the far end of the dueling floor and took the stance of form one, Shii-Cho. Aria was curious. It was a form taught to all padawans, but at Alek’s level: it couldn’t be his preferred form. Nor did Shii-Cho particularly fit his temperament.