Smoke covered what was supposed to be a clear sky. No wonder. After all, the Mandalorian capital Keldabe was also the headquarter of the large war industry MandalMotors, which manufactured all war vehicles. From the small Basilisk war droids to the gigantic Kandosii Dreadnaughts, there was nothing it couldn't do.

A lot had changed in the last year. Within a year, the regressed, nomadic clan people developed into a perfectly structured society in which every creature played its role. Strong ones were trained to be brave and loyal warriors, weaker ones worked as farmers, industrial workers or did other work, all with only one goal: to prepear the Mandalorians for war and to wipe out the shame of the Great Sith War and restore their glory.

All of this was based on one man's goals. Mandalore the Ultimate. His ambition and fighting spirit restored that of all other Mandalorians and led them to the point where they now found themselves.

"[My brothers and sisters]!" he shouted in Mando'a from the balcony of his simple residence in his powerful voice, typical of the Taung. A small, tapered house made of Durabeton, decorated all around with the bones of a Mythosaur. Mandalorians never strived for magnificent buildings. The houses in Keldabe were only up to eight meters tall, which is why even from Mandalore's low-lying balcony you could see the nearby Kalita River and the vast jungles of Mandalore. Their simple nature came from the nomadic way of life that the Taung used to live before they settled here.

The Taung used to be the only species represented in the culture, since their origins lie in them. But they have been accepting other species into their ranks for decades and Mandalore is now one of the last of his kind. His gray-skinned face with the distinctive pointed chin was hidden by the golden mask of Mandalore, his body by gray beskar armor and a red cape.

"[The final preparations have now been made! The final battle is coming! However, I have to tell you that all of our successes and all those that lie ahead of us are not just thanks to me! No! Each of you has proven your courage and strength hundreds of times! Hundreds and hundreds of times]!"

The crowd of Neo-Crusaders gathered below erupted in thunderous applause in response. Mandalore waited a moment for the cheering to calm down before continuing.

"[It is thanks to all of you that we have come this far! Your reward will now be the greatest and most glorious battle, never before seen in our millennia-old history! And I assure you, life or death, we will be victorious! For through your bravery and your tireless commitment in battle, each of you will be guaranteed a place in the army of the afterlife, so that you will continue to take part in glorious battles for all eternity]!"

The crowd began to cheer euphorically again. That was hardly surprising. Many of the Mandalorians were unconditionally loyal to their leader because he was the one who made them great again.

"[Therefore, I now call on all clans one last time: Come together, take up arms and stand with me in this final crusade! For glory, honor and immortality! Call with me! For glory, honor and immortality!"

The crowd responded to his call in full force, their screams echoing throughout Keldabe.

Annoyed, Ornan entered his quarters on the outskirts of Keldabe. And finally he had peace. The hustle and bustle outside and all these fanatical shouts had finally gotten on his last nerve. But now he had finally escaped it and was able to relax for a short moment.

He went to the small kitchenette of his thirty-square-foot house, took a bottle of Mandalorian ale out of the refrigerator, pulled out his small sofa, lay down on it and drank it in one sitting. He felt that this was exactly what he needed right now. Relaxed, he laid his head back and breathed out in relief.

Relieved to finally be able to thwart Mandalore's plans soon. Then he wouldn't have to go to his pathetic speeches anymore just to avoid arousing suspicion.

The fanatical devotion and blind obedience that all the other neo-crusaders showed him really drove him mad. Were they all as blind as he was? Did they all fail to recognize his madness, or were they just as mad? If that was the case, he would have a hard time asserting himself as the soon-to-be Mandalore. If in doubt, he would have to rule through fear. After all, some people have to be forced to be happy.

His thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

Without showing the slightest surprise, he went to the door and opened it.

As expected, his long-time comrade and friend Cald from the Stryver clan, whom he had asked to come to him, stood in front of him.

The reptilian Gektl stared at him expectantly through his yellow eyes without saying a word.

"Come in," Ornan said seriously. Since the Mandalorians adopted several species into their circles, Basic has been the common language. Mando'a was only used on big occasions like the speech before, as a sign of respect for this culture.

As the last bit of Cald's green tail brushed the doorstep, Ornan immediately closed the door.

"Sit down," Ornan said, sounding more like an order than an offer. "We have to talk."

"Do we have to?" Cald hissed as he sat down. "What's on your mind this time?"

Ornan looked briefly into his friend's eyes. He knew there was no need to ramble on and got straight to the point.

"Tell me, what exactly do you think of our Mandalore's war plans?" he asks with ice-cold calm.

Cald was visibly confused. "What exactly is this question about?" he asked him back carefully.

"Tell me what you think of Mandalore's war plans," Ornan repeated, a little sharper.

Cald still didn't know what the question was about. "Of course I support it and am proud to be able to take part in this final battle," he answered anyway.

Ornan exhaled angrily and touched his head. Sure, he hadn't told him anything about his thoughts yet, but the fact that Cald was just as blind still disappointed him.

"You're just as stupid as everyone else," he grumbled.

He wanted to throw his friend out of the apartment straight away, but he knew he couldn't give up on him just yet. He was one of the few people he could still rely on, and that was exactly what he needed right now. He had to convince him somehow. In addition to that, he has already revealed his feelings to him. Letting him go now would be to dangerous.

"What do you want to tell me now?" Cald asked impatiently.

"Very simple! Mandalore is nothing but a madman," Ornan dropped the bombshell. "This "war" he is planning will not be a war. Rather, it will be a massacre. A destruction of our culture as we have known it so far, which will inevitably end in our downfall."

Cald still had his yellow eyes on him. He remained frozen for a few seconds, probably in horror at what he had just heard from the mouth of his long-time comrade.

"What are you saying?" was the only thing he could manage.

"Mandalore must be stopped," Ornan continued. "This war cannot be won."

"So you're planning on betraying Mandalore?" Cald growled, still amazed.

Ornan gritted his teeth. "No. No, my friend. It's not me who's betraying anyone here," he growled, slightly angry. "I am the one who will judge Mandalore for his betrayal. The one who will restore law and order and save the Mandalorians from their end."

"Mandalore was the one that brought us exactly that. It was only thanks to him that the Mandalorians were able to regain their former strength," countered Cald.

"Mandalore is a false leader," Ornan snapped. "He did not gain his title through a brave act or special strength. He simply took the mask after Mandalore the Indomitable was mauled by some wild animals and he has found it by pure chance."

"Our traditions allow that upon the death of the Mandalore, everyone has the right to claim the title upon receiving the mask," Cald argued astutely.

Ornan now tried to calm down a bit.

"It wouldn't be a problem if he were worthy to lead us," he said, brushing back his short silver hair. "But he has no qualities at all. He was nothing but a simple warrior who at that time saw the chance to finally live out his hunger for power. And that's exactly what's happening now. By starting a war and dragging us all down with him."

"What exactly makes you think we're going to fall?" Cald asked.

"The armed forces of the Republic are much stronger and better positioned than us. All these years they have recovered from the war, in which they even won, while we, worn down by our defeat, have lived scattered among our clans without arming ourselves. In comparison, we don't have the slightest chance. They will have us crushed before we even march."

Cald bared his pointed teeth. "You clearly overestimate them. It is impossible for the republic to be fully set up again now. The very fact that they wanted to create insurance shows that they are in a precarious position. We have also eliminated these, which makes them even more vulnerable."

Ornan could only shake his head.

"The military plays no role in this. The real threat lies in the sworn protectors of the Republic. The Jedi. If they fight alongside them again, we can surrender straight away."

"The Jedi are strong, you're right," Cald agreed. "But they alone cannot decide the entire war. Apart from that, their ranks are still weak and there are far fewer than there were twenty years ago."

"You're wrong," Ornan replied. "Back then it was Ulic Qel-Droma who changed sides and brought about a turning point in the war. A single Jedi was enough to decide everything. And when Exar Kun finally died, we were finally lost. Our leader has seen all of this and is still confident of victory. That alone proves his madness and it's time for you to finally recognize the truth. The Jedi cannot be defeated."

A brief moment of silence filled the room. Cald did nothing but stare at the floor as Ornan waited for him to answer.

"Do you understand it now?" Ornan asked him. "Do you understand why he needs to be stopped?"

Cald now raised his head and looked at him darkly. "What are you doing now?"

Ornan hesitated for a moment. He knew his friend wouldn't like the answer. "I must destroy Mandalore and take its place. This is the only way to rehabilitate the Mandalorians. Even if the masses are loyal to him. As soon as I have the Mask of Mandalore in my possession they will follow me. This is our way."

"And if they don't?" Cald questioned. "The whole bunch have already been prepared for this war. They look at him full of euphoria. If a Mandalore comes and takes a pacifist path, there could be uprisings."

"If necessary, I have to rule by force. After all, it only serves the well-being of our people."

Cald visibly lost faith in him. "And how are you going to do that? He has gathered countless followers around him. The entire military is on Mandalore's side. Aand you are alone and want to rule an entire rebellious folk by force? I'm starting to think you're the megalomaniac here," Cald spat contemptuously.

Ornan could only respond with a devious grin. "Do you seriously think I don't have an ace in the hole?"

Cald looked at him uncertainly as he reached into his pocket. He took out one of the blood-filled vials and held it directly in front of the Gektl's face. Cald's uncertain look suddenly turned into one of horror.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, fully aware of what he was looking at.

"I was there at the raid last week, as you may know. It could be that I bribed a researcher to give me some of these samples," he said sarcastically. "With this, I will be able to create a monster strong enough to overthrow Mandalore and maintain control once I have it."

Ornan's way of saying those words seemed to frighten Cald. "Think carefully about whether this is really necessary," he tried to persuade him. "If the Jedi really are as strong as you claim, then why don't you just ally with them?"

"That's impossible," Ornan countered directly. "Once Mandalore is overthrown, the Republic will appoint me as the new leader and impose peace terms on me, which would reduce the Mandalorians to nothing more than a puppet government. Apart from that, I cannot accept any outside help if I want to claim the place of Mandalore. It would be a violation of our traditions, which I try to maintain."

Cald scratched his face in despair. He seemed to be in a quandary.

"Come on," Ornan tried to persuade him. "You know very well that there is no other way. I ask you as a Mandalorian and as your friend: join me and my cause."

Cald raised his head again. "How do you know I won't betray you?"

Ornan knew this question would come. "You have now seen what will happen in the event of war. If you betray me and continue to follow this madman, you will betray the entire Mandalorian culture and everything we have fought for," he told him. "I know you. You are a loyal and honorable warrior and you have always acted for the good of our people and our values. So I know you won't disappoint me."

Cald still seemed unsure. But Ornan still had one thing. One with which he can certainly convince him.

"Think about your family. How do you want to be there for your children when you die? And don't you want to give them a glorious future? All this will perish if you choose war, and they will...

"Allright. It's enough!" Cald interrupted him. "I know I'll regret this," he then sighed. "But… I guess I'll help you."

Ornan knew that with his family he would get him. After all, nothing was more important to him than ensuring the well-being of his family and nothing made him happier than seeing his sons grow up to be true Mandalorians.

"I knew I could rely on you, my friend," Ornan said, with a relieved smile. The two hugged each other.

"I promise you, together we will save the Mandalorians," he said as he patted him on the shoulder. "However, I have to be so impudent and give you the first order right away."

The Gektl twitched his eyes. "Oh yes? And what?"

Ornan raised the vial between their faces again. "Take these samples to my base in Tel IV. Now that we have them we will need to begin immediately."

"And what exactly can I do with it?" asked Cald.

"You don't have to do anything with it. I have already gathered a large team of scientists and warriors there, all of whom are initiated. I will inform them of your arrival when you are on your way and tell them that from now on you are my personal representative and therefore their superior."

"Oh," Cald hissed, flattered. "First promotion already, huh?"

"You won't have to do anything other than overview everything until I arrive in a few days."

Cald lifted the suitcase from the floor and held out his hand to Ornan.

"Rely on me," he told him in an unusually serious tone for him. "I promise you everything will go smoothly."

"I already know that," Ornan grinned.

Cald then turned and strode towards the door, ready to carry out his task.

"Wait a moment," Ornan stopped him.

Cald turned his head and looked at him expectantly.

"Before you go…" he said as he stood up and marched towards his wine cabinet. He opened it and took out a bottle with a golden yellow liquid in it.

"…let's have a toast."

"Always," Cald hissed. "What is this, if I may ask?"

"An excellent straw wine that I had imported from Ukio," Ornan replied proudly.

"Ohhh..." Cald licked his lips. "Luxury true."

"Always only the best for victory."

He took two cups, filled them, handed one of them to his friend and the two men toasted.

"To the rebirth of the Mandalorians," Ornan made a toast and the two drank the sweet wine in one sitting.

"With all due respect Master, you can't be serious," said Ken, shocked.

When yesterday's vote in the Senate to investigate the incident on Belkadan narrowly passed, it was soon announced that some Jedi would be leading the expedition.

Ken didn't think much of it at first. At least not until the Council called him in this morning. But it's not just that he should take part in this mission. The council has given him the task of leading it.

And here he stood now. Surrounded by the twelve most powerful and wisest Jedi of his order, although he was currently doubting their wisdom.

"Our decision has been made," said Master Vrook sternly. "You will lead this investigation."

"I just got knighted," Ken tried to appeal to her. "You cannot possibly leave such an important and dangerous mission to me. After all, the fate of the galaxy depends on it."

"Don't question our wisdom!" Vrook scolded. "We are in close contact with the Force. We alone know what should be left to whom and what is best for the fate of the Galaxy. And as I said, our decision has been made, so don't waste your energy on contradictions."

The other members of the council, including another of Sunrider's old companions, Sylvar, a Cathar, as well as the Zabrak Teqoo, the human women Lonna Vash and Atris, the Nautolan Namathu Zul, and the youngest member, Dorjander Kace, all said nothing.

Ken hung his head and covered his face with his hands. What should he do now? He knew that further attempts to talk the council out of it would be pointless. But he couldn't hide his fear. He has never been entrusted with a task before and the first is said to be one of this magnitude.

"Don't be afraid," came Vandar's gentle voice. Ken lowered his hands a little and looked at the master.

"Forgive me," he apologized for not being able to control his emotions.

"You're right," Vandar continued. "You were just knighted. A new phase has begun for you in your life as a Jedi. You now have to learn to take on more responsibility if you want to be appointed master one day."

"But can't we start a little smaller?" Ken asked.

"A Jedi must not constantly only challenge the skills he already has," Master Odnarb interjected to his left. "We have to push our limits and put ourselves to the test. This is the only way we can grow from it."

"And if I don't make it? What will become of me then?" asked Ken.

"When you fall, get back up and keep moving forward. Only when you give up have you failed. Show the will to continue. Trust the Force and it will guide you."

"I understand, Master," Ken murmured. "Still, I don't know how to even approach the whole thing."

"You will not be alone," Grand Master Sunrider said to him. "We have carefully selected your comrades who will accompany you. Master Hysha, a long-experienced master, will be at your side with advice and support, as will his padawan. We also chose your old friends Vangsha and Keero. They will give you whatever assistance you need."

That made Ken happy. Since becoming padawans they have spent very little time together. However, he wished they would meet again under normal circumstances.

"A squad of Republic soldiers, led by Captain Conderb, will also accompany you. He also has years of experience in the military and will also serve as an advisor."

"I accept the Council's request," Ken said finally. With so much help, he thought, little could go wrong. And besides, even though it was an important mission, he didn't know what big could happen. After all, all they had to do was do a quick check-up and return.

"I won't disappoint you," he promised.

"No, Ken," Vandar croaked. "What's more important is that you don't disappoint yourself. The fact that you were commissioned only serves you. So that you can finally find your place and learn to accept your new role as a Jedi Knight. Because we felt you were ready, you were knighted. Now it's just up to you to show yourself that you're ready."

"I thank you for your trust, Master," said Ken with a slight bow.

"May the Force be with you, young Jedi," Nomi said goodbye.

"May the force be with you."

Ken turned and stalked out of the council chamber without saying another word.

The fresh air hit Ken's nose again as he entered the training ground once more.

He used the hour that had passed since his conversation with the council to find out about his companions, who were still unknown to him, in the archives.

At least he had already heard a lot about Master Hysha. After all, he had fought in the Great Sith War and had made a name for himself several times as a capable diplomat and wise master.

He went up to a small balcony to look around. When he asked where he could look for them, a master told him he had seen the pair out here.

And then he saw him. Hysha, twirling around in his simple Jedi robes, purple lightsaber in hand. And next to him he saw his padawan.

His name was Shesprer Ejiddo, a thirteen-year-old Pau'an from Utapau.

The two were currently in lightsaber combat training.

Shesprer tried to use his green blade to break through his Togruta master's defenses, but he seemed to have no trouble maintaining it. Ken watched them for a while.

Shesprer relied primarily on acrobatics and quick blows, characteristics of the fourth form Ataru. A technique used by many small Jedi to compensate for their size disadvantage.

However, he knew from experience that even this was useless against a skilled defender.

After a few minutes, Hysha seemed to want to end the whole thing by pulling Shesprer's legs away with a force grab and causing him to fall over.

A mistake he made again and again as a padawan. A basic rule in lightsaber combat against other Force users was to immediately build a Force shield around yourself to prevent such small attacks. While it was still useless against strong attacks like Force Lightning, it was still important to avoid being defeated immediately.

This was probably exactly what Hysha was reprimanding his padawan with. He then helped him up, the two bowed to each other and then the Togruta left the place. Apparently he declared class over today.

However, Shesprer did not make his way back to his quarters yet. Rather, he stomped on the ground in frustration, angry at his failure.

Ken could only shake his head. He now realized what Shesprer's biggest mistake was. He was, as he had just seen, a skilled lightsaber fighter, but apparently he seemed to be too focused on it. This was confirmed again when he saw the Pau'an activate his lightsaber again and continue training.

His ambition seemed to have become too great over time.

He walked towards him.

"Greetings young padawan," he said politely. "I see you're frustrated."

Shesprer bowed slightly, but did not greet him in return. "Of course I am," he said bluntly. "I put so much strength and effort into my training and again it was all in vain."

Ken looked at him regretfully. He understood his frustration, but this was the wrong path. "A Jedi doesn't have to win to win," he told him.

"Huh," Shesprer grimaced.

"Our only goal is to end the fight. After all, we are guardians of peace, not warriors of peace." Shesprer said nothing, just looked at the floor. At least he thought about it, which pleased Ken.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Ken Rav." He held out his hand.

Shesprer looked at him. "I already know you. You are the Jedi who will lead our upcoming mission."

Ken nodded at him. "Nice to meet you."

"I am…"

"Shesprer Ejiddo. I've already found out about you," he smiled.

Immediately afterwards, however, he took on a serious tone again. "Tell me, why exactly do you place so much emphasis on your fighting skills?"

Shesprer sighed briefly. "I simply want to prove myself. I want to show the Council and my master that I am useful and that I am ready to become a Jedi Knight."

He didn't look at Ken once as he said this. He seemed a little embarrassed by the answer. But Ken was glad that he had answered honestly, otherwise he wouldn't be able to help him.

"Your zeal is certainly commendable, but you prove nothing to the Jedi through physical strength alone. A Jedi's true strength lies in the Force. You have to learn to understand it, allow yourself to be guided by it and at the same time learn what responsibility rests on those chosen by the Force," Ken taught him.

Shesprer sighed again. "That's what my master always tells me. But when is all of this supposed to happen? After all these years, I still feel like I'm not making any progress. I just think I have something else to prove."

"The most important thing you have to do now is being patient. Look at me. I am seventeen years old and only recently became a knight. And even that is unusually early. My two best friends weren't made knights until they were twenty. Others won't until they're twenty-five. The Force has chosen a different path for each of us. You have to find your way around your role and accept your fate."

Ken knew how strange it was that he of all people would say something like that. After all, he still didn't know his role. Could it be that the Council sent Shesprer for the same reasons they sent him?

"Why are you telling me all this?" Shesprer asked him.

"Frankly, I have a lot of respect for this mission," Ken admitted. "It is also something completely new for me to take on such a responsibility. I therefore depend on the help of each of you. Above all, I ask you not to act hastily and not to perform unnecessary heroic deeds. Like I said, your moment will come. You cannot jeopardize this mission for this. Will you promise me that?"

After a short silence, Shesprer gave him his promise and the two said goodbye. Ken went back to the archives feeling good. He could only hope that his optimism would come true.