EPILOGUE
Soft humming wafts across a quaint room nearly ten kilometers away from the military base upon Sekot. An infant no more than a year old rocks back and forth against Thea’s ample bosom. Thea’s voice speaks softly to the young child that she held; “Why must you be so stubborn, young one? Please sleep, I need a smoke and I doubt Athin would be happy with me if…” The statement falls away while Thea turns slowly towards the old leather pouch on the table just behind her and she says softly, “I wonder…” Smoking is a recent habit she has picked up since her fallen partner's pipe was left in his quarters. During those times she felt more connected with him and she began to experiment with a technique she came across in her readings years ago. Gently, Thea situates the child in a handcrafted wooden crib and she adjusts the purple cloth that had shifted off of the eye sockets beneath, revealing smaller eyes than would normally be expected and the iris colors were underdeveloped, grey and unclear. As she straightens up, she touches the antsy child gently on the cheek then sits in the lounge chair beside the crib. She pulls out the old pipe left behind by Joash then reaches within her robes to pull out a small vile holding a dark herb similar looking to T’Bac but different in one particular way; a calming medicinal property that is weaker than T’Bac and non-addictive. Thea takes the smallest pinch of the herb from the vial and packs it into the worn pipe. With a quick motion, she strikes a match and holds it inverted against the herb until it ignites, fueling the small flame with several quick puffs on the pipe. A gentle green flame flares up initially then immediately returns to a smolder that glows brightly while Thea pulls in a long drag. She holds the smoke within her lungs for many moments, her lips moving ever so slightly to murmur in the ancient Sith language a spell the alchemist had been working on for some time.
A long exhale releases the smoke which falls gently over the area around the crib. It does not smell harsh and instead carries a gentle fresh scent as a result of the spell which has amplified the calming properties of the herb many fold. Within moments, the child’s movements and grumbling slow until she falls still, save for the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she slumbers. Thea exhales deeply, leans back in the chair then adds a pinch of T’Bac to the smoldering herbs within the pipe. She takes several long drags, savoring the spicy flavor mixed with the medical herb then sighs, “Rest well, young Anilessa. Your father will be home later to play with you.” Thea takes another long drag from the pipe and after holding in the smoke, she speaks as she exhales, “Then perhaps I’ll tell you a story about your late uncle Joash, one of his less colorful tales.” She chuckles, “We shall save those for when you become a young warrior as I'm sure you will. If even the smallest piece of your mother resides within you, there can be no other outcome.” In the soft light, Anilessa’s hair is short and dark, except for patches that were a very bright and shiny silver-white. Thea ponders the colors quietly to herself, “The color changes more and more each day. At this rate, it will be all silver by her next birthday. So that wasn’t her original natural color? I wonder what it was…” Thea’s thoughts continue to drift over memories and various questions as she continues to puff on the old pipe until the sounds of an opening door and Athin’s voice causes her to sit upright and tamp out the pipe rapidly. As he comes into the light, the Miraluka’s face looks haggard and Joash’s voice flows through Thea’s mind, though it has a vastly more sad tone than she had ever heard before, “You Miraluka really can’t hide your feelings.”
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“Auntie Thea! Where is Papa at?” Anilessa has been following Thea around for the last hour as the woman worked feverishly to prepare the dwelling for the upcoming party; between decorations, cooking, and general cleaning she was becoming quite tired physically but her excitement was driving her forward. Somewhat exacerbated, Thea responds as she steps up on a stool to attach the second end of a banner above the entryway, “Your father is visiting your mother as he does every day, Anilessa. He loves her very much and hopes that she will awake any day so you may meet her properly.” Thea’s expression falls as she finishes attaching the banner and steps down. The change in expression is not missed by the young child who stopped moving and looked upwards at the elder woman before asking softly, “Do you think I will ever meet my mother, Auntie Thea?” Without thinking, Thea responds exuberantly, “Of course, young one. Once the Force deems it time you shall meet her.” Anilessa is not entirely comforted by the response and she fidgets with her eyewear as she asks even more softly, “If I do meet her…will she love me? Would she be proud of me? Isn’t she sick because of me?” Concern takes over Thea and she kneels down quickly, cradling Anilessa’s left cheek with her right hand. Her diamond irises gaze directly into Anilessa’s eyes which bear the signs of heterochromia; both had eventually grown to normal size, the right eye is a viscerally sharp icy blue and the left is a deep brown with swirls of caramel and gold. Both pupils are glossy and even with the child’s usual eyewrap moved away it is clear from the far off gaze she has that they do not supply her with vision. With as much compassion as possible, Thea reassures the child “Anilessa, you are not to blame for the state your mother has been in for so long. She fought a mighty battle and was injured both physically and in the Force. But if she were here now she would tell you that she played her part as the Force willed and you should not pity her for the sacrifice. And trust me young one, though your mother is unorthodox when it comes to love, there is no one I know that loves more passionately than she does. I guarantee you that she does love you and would already be proud of you for remaining strong this long.”
Anilessa looks somewhat convinced as she forces a smile which Thea returns widely, “You are so pretty when you smile. Your mother very rarely did so but those times that I witnessed it, I felt there was none more beautiful in all of the galaxy.” Anilessa brightens at the statement standing up tall as she asks another question, “Was she as great of a warrior as I have heard?” Thea’s hesitation is read by the child through her aura and she follows up, “I heard some soldiers talking sometimes when visiting Papa while I was playing…” Thea sits on the long couch on the edge of the room and pats the cushion next to her, “We have just enough time for a short story before your party.” Now very excited, Anilessa jogs over and hops up onto the couch, snuggling up against Thea while looking up expectantly. With her left hand, Thea ruffles the child’s bangs, now less dark brown and more silvery-white, the transformation had slowed over the last couple years, “I’ll tell you about the time I first met your mother. I was living on an overgrown planet far away from anything. I spent my days practicing alchemy in relative peace, save for the occasional creature from the forest getting a bit too curious. Then one day she entered my hut, not alone as I came to learn very quickly. Despite my best efforts she was able to see through my guise and identify my origin.” Thea exhaled deeply, somewhat shivering while remembering the feeling, “She masked her presence in the Force but when I remained defiant…nae, arrogant, she revealed her true potential and it became clear there was no other option but to follow. Even without engaging in combat she commanded the entire interaction. I have always felt that was her greatest strength, even more so than her combat abilities.” Anilessa merely stares upwards with her mouth open as Thea continues to recount her first encounter with Anhiel until the door to the dwelling opens up and Rajavia steps in with a large wrapped box.
Anilessa jumps up from the couch and runs over to hug Rajavia tightly, who addresses the young one with a smile, “I heard that it is my god-daughter’s birthday. Do you know where I can find her? I’d hate for this gift to go to waste.” With a pouty frown, she admonishes Rajavia, “That’s a kid joke, Raji. I am eight years old now.” Chuckling, Rajavia pats the child on the head, “You are your mother’s daughter, that much is certain. Now come, others will be joining us shortly.” Anilessa guides Rajavia into the dwelling where she places the present on a large table next to the one previously left by Thea. Over the next hour many more individuals, including Mirr, Rend, Atliyanah, Sun, Y’ssane, Virkaen, and several other members of the enclave, all bringing gifts, food and refreshments. The festivities proceed with Anilessa speaking rapidly to many people until she is placed at the head of the table with all the gifts that she starts opening one by one. The first is Thea’s and as the paper falls away and the box is opened, a beginner’s alchemy set is revealed. Anilessa looks over it excitedly while Thea speaks, “You have shown great interest in the alchemical arts, young one. May this be your first step down the path and I shall guide you along it.” Excited thank yous fill the air while the child hugs Thea before she returns to the pile of gifts. From Virkaen is a book outlining a tactical analysis of one of Anhiel’s naval battles from the great war that he had studied and written. Flatly, the vice-admiral added, “There is much for you to learn in tactics, young one. Be sure to be studious in all things.” Though confused, Anilessa looks over the words with her Miraluka sight and she almost gets absorbed by them until the next gift is slid in front of her.
The process continues for nearly half an hour when Anilessa looks around somewhat saddened until she asks Thea quietly, “Where is Papa? He was supposed to be here.” Before Thea could answer, Rajavia stands up and claps her hands once, garnering the attention of all those present who turned their heads. Once everyone had quieted, Rajavia spoke, “Now before we move on to the delicious cake Miss Tragonus has made, there is one final gift for our young birthday girl.” Those gathered look towards the main door just before Anilessa becomes aware of the familiar aura just outside accompanied by another that seemed familiar. Before the thoughts could form in her mind, the door opens and Athin steps in, pushing Anhiel in a hover chair that she sits upright in. To most everyone’s surprise, Anhiel is conscious, her blue eyes as sharp as ever though her face bears a look of exhaustion despite the rest she had been under for just over eight years. She is markedly underweight despite having nutrition supplied throughout her many year coma. No one moves save for the pair as they enter the room with the long table. Once they stop, Anilessa stands up, stunned while the room remains silent. Underneath her eye wrap, the child blinks several times despite the action only being an unconscious response. Timidly, she asks, “Mama? Is that you?” Though her arms feel heavy, Anhiel lifts them up openly, “Yes, Anilessa.” Without wasting a moment, the child runs towards her and leaps into Anhiel’s lap, wrapping her arms tightly around her mother’s neck who returns the hug. “I am sorry for leaving you for so long, young one.” Despite this being their first conscious meeting, Anilessa hops down and quickly grabs Virkaen’s gift before sitting back in Anhiel’s lap as though she had done so every day. Excitedly, she opens the freshly printed book and begins to talk quickly, “Look Mama, Mr. Virkaen got me this. He has been teaching me about tactics sometimes and he said this is all about you. Is that true?” Anhiel chuckles, masking her tiredness to the child as she reads the opening lines quietly then states, “Ah yes, I do remember this. This was my first naval command; I was no more than nineteen years of age. Due to several strange events, the Admiral’s flagship was prevented from joining the battle and we were left to manage while outnumbered.” Anhiel continues the story for several minutes while all merely watch quietly, save for mild discussions here and there until Anhiel looks in Thea’s direction. No words are needed to communicate the request and her friend swoops in and scoops up Anilessa and the book, “Come, young one, everyone is waiting on you to have cake and I worked extra hard on this one, it is your father’s favorite.” The birthday girl giggles loudly, “Papa loves all of your cakes.”
Rajavia re-enters the room and sets a long rectangular multilayer cake decorated with flowers of varied colors. Eight candles are lit and a short song is sung in honor of Anilessa before she blows out the candles excitedly. Thea and Rajavia cut and distribute the cake to the guests after giving a much larger than necessary piece to Anilessa who digs in hungrily. Virkaen takes the lull in festivities as an opportunity to move towards Anhiel’s side, “Ma’am, I am surprised and supremely happy to see you conscious once more. Your daughter is already growing into a bright and strong young woman. Whenever Athin allows it, or more commonly whenever Thea sneaks her away, Anilessa has spent time following me around. She has taken a liking to learning about how things work.” Anhiel smiles lightly, gazing in the direction of her child still eating cake, “I am grateful she has had such a support group during my absence. I'm sure Athin has been appreciative as well, though I am sure he grumbles from time to time.” Virkaen chuckles, “It shall be even better now that you are back. But please, do not rush into things. Take the time you need to truly regain your strength, Ma’am.” The Vice-Admiral lays a gentle hand on her shoulder and offers a reassuring smile before Anilessa herself runs over with plates of cake for both Virkaen and Anhiel.
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“Again, Anilessa. Where is the freedom in style you have shown me before? You fight now as though you are distracted. Distraction in combat hastens the grave.” Rend walks slowly around the Padawan, now aged fourteen, who lies on her back gasping for breath. “I understand, Master.” Rend subdues the slight chuckle that wanted to get out as he remembers being on the other side of this exact interaction. The Jedi Master settles into a wide stance with the dual sided practice saber held behind his back; he sets his features in a serious expression then responds coldly, “Then show me. Come at me like your life depends on it because one day, it will.” Anilessa pushes herself up from the ground with both hands then retrieves her wooden weapon. Without waiting, she sprints towards Rend and somersaults over the sideways slash aimed at her midsection. As the move finishes, she flicks her weapon out with her left hand at Rend’s shoulder which he bats away with the other end of his weapon before pressing forward with heavy slashes. Anilessa back pedals quickly, adopting a defensive approach to buy time until she senses the wall approaching from behind. She ducks under a slash from her right aimed at her head then flips backwards towards the wall. The balls of her feet contact the wall a little more than a meter above the ground and she immediately launches outwards and upwards, stabbing downwards after a frontflip. Though the move was unexpected, Rend pivots quickly and moves the approaching weapon enough that it catches the inner edge of one of the bands of armor on the shoulder. The weapon catches and arrests all of Anilessa’s momentum, yanking on her right arm and causing her to fall to the ground unceremoniously. Anilessa groans as she rubs her shoulder until Rend steps over and offers a helping hand. As he pulls her up, he speaks with a flat tone, “Better, Padawan. That would have worked with a lightsaber but you have to keep the weapon you are using forefront in your mind. There will be times that you won’t have your lightsaber.” Anilessa nods several times, “I understand, Master.” Rend smiles, “Continue to refine those movements and you may yet pioneer a new saber form. I believe you are ready for the next step.” Perplexed, she does not respond and Rend continues, “Clean up then meet me in Sun’s workshop.”
Just shy of an hour later, Anilessa enters Sun’s workshop where Rend is waiting. She bows low and her master addresses her, “You shall now build your first lightsaber, Anilessa. Sun has all of the required parts and an array of saber crystals. She will give you instructions then leave you to build your saber.” After taking a few steps to the nearby workbench, Anilessa looks over the many different parts then turns back to Rend, “I understand, Master.” With a reassuring smile, Athin adds while opening the door, “Take your time, meditate, and your saber will come together.” Before Anilessa could respond, the door shuts behind Athin and she is left alone with Sun who immediately moves to key on the large wallside display to bring up lightsaber schematics. “There are several components that make up a functioning lightsaber. What you build today will only be the beginning. As time goes on, you will likely refine the components and design until you have something that is a natural extension of your body.” Anilessa begins to form several thoughts simultaneously while she nods quietly confirming she understood. With that, Sun began to talk through the different components, their functions, limitations, options and other relevant information for just over three standard hours before she excuses herself and leaves the Padawan alone in the workshop.
Anilessa breathes in deeply, holding the air in her lungs for several seconds until she releases it all steadily. Her presence begins to expand throughout the room as she falls into a meditative state. The components before her appear within her mind with their own auras displayed in a myriad of colors. Several bronze colored pieces with smooth rounded contours and edges begin to slowly move closer across the workbench. The Padawan visualizes the schematic Sun had shown her and the pieces move to their respective positions while the shimmering focusing lens rises up before floating towards the end of the shape made by the metallic pieces. Several crystals lie in a row along the upper side of the bench; Orange, deep red, shimmering green, icy blue, and several other colors glint in the artificial light. Anilessa’s focus now shifts to the crystals which she examines with great scrutiny. The colors shown by the crystals show differently in Miraluka sight where they pulse steadily with aura’s that represent the crystal’s being. The concept of time dissipates for the Padawan as she assesses each one until her focus falls to a single crystal with a very familiar aura. Without questioning the coincidence, Anilessa settles into her meditation more deeply which lifts the crystal from the bench and brings it to hover just in front of her. Once the crystal stops moving, the remainder of the competents rise from their places on the bench and begin to surround the centerpiece as they slowly come together. Several satisfying clicks indicate the physical assembly is complete just before the newly formed weapon settles onto the table. Anilessa gasps loudly for air from the exertion over what turned out to be several hours and she wipes the sweat from her brow. Once she has regained her breath, she gingerly picks up the weapon and feels the weight in her hand. Its primarily bronze color glints in the orange light from the large console nearby. Her thumb slides across the activation switch a couple times before she depresses it, calling forth the silver blade from the white crystal that resided within the hilt. As she admires the weapon, the familiar aura becomes more apparent and Anilessa smiles widely, “Mother…” and once she had fully regained her breath she bounded from the room excitedly.
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Along the edge of the large planetside landing pad strides Mirr clad in his usual armor. He approaches a clearly nervous Athin and extends his hand, which the Miraluka grasps tightly. With a gruff voice, Mirr speaks “Relax, friend. Your family’s bloodline is very strong; this trial shall be overcome.” The Mandalorian looks around for a moment before adding quietly, “Final preparations are complete as well.” Athin merely nods, grimacing slightly as he did more often after becoming a father. Footsteps emanate from the center of the metallic landing pad as Rend and Anilessa move together towards the center. Rend walks in front wearing his usual armor which is meticulously cared for and shows no signs of wear. His padawan, now aged seventeen, follows behind wearing basic tan robes over a tight black training suit with her now nearly all white and silvery hair pulled back in a long and high ponytail. Rend turns about sharply and folds his hands behind his back as he speaks to Anilessa, “You have progressed rapidly over the years, Padawan, far faster than I did in my time as a Padawan. Today shall be your final trials.” Pre-empting the follow up question, Rend draws his double bladed lightsaber and ignites the deep golden blades. Anilessa responds by drawing her own weapon and dropping into a low stance before igniting the single silver blade which she holds out before her defensively. Several more onlookers begin to assemble around the landing area as the combatants dart towards each other.
The shining blades flash about as thrusts, slashes, and parries are exchanged at a blinding rate. Athin watches intently, noting Rend’s aura is slightly diminished, a result of him suppressing the aid of the Force during the ongoing combat. After nearly a dozen minutes of keeping the battle even, the master lets his Padawan press the attack, using his weapon to bat away each strike while occasionally bringing a slash across aimed at whichever of her shoulders is most exposed. Anilessa ducks one of the strikes then brings a backhanded slashes at Rend’s midsection which he backsteps from. Using his greater height, he spins off of the backstep and delivers a roundhouse kick that connects with Anilessa’s hastily raised left arm pulled to absorb the energy. The force of the kick sends the Padawan to the ground and her saber extinguishes while it clatters a couple meters away. With a mildly frustrated tone, Rend admonishes his Padawan, “Why do you allow nerves to control your actions at such a crucial moment? You have pioneered a new saber form that the Council is even now evaluating for inclusion within our archives and training regiment; yet you insist on engaging me with a basic form not befitting your skill.” Anilessa groans before she breathes in deeply to catch her breath while laying on her back. Rend continues, “If you cannot best me, you have no hope of passing the next trial. Get out of your own way, allow the Force and your instincts to take control and show me what you are truly made of.”
Anilessa rolls up onto her feet and fixes her eye wrap before crouching low with her hand held out to the right. After a moment, her fallen weapon shoots towards her hand and ignites upon making contact, the blade angled slightly downwards to her right. Without waiting, she launches forward towards Rend, sprinting with all the speed she can muster. Rend lunges forward with a strong forward thrust when Anilessa leaps into the air, spinning over the enemy’s weapon while bringing her right foot across to connect with the side of her master’s head. Rend rolls backward, attempting to absorb the force of the unexpected kick and before he can fully recover, Aniless is on him with several slashes and thrusts. The onslaught causes Rend to take a backhanded swipe to buy some space but the young Padawan tucks in closer, ducking under the attack at what seems like an awkward angle but it allows her own back handed slash to the right to impact the inner side of Rend’s left knee. The cortosis imbued armor absorbs most of the blade but it still penetrates enough to burn the flesh beneath. Falling to his knee after the strike, Rend looks up slowly to see what he thought was Anhiel looking down at him, holding her purple saber just below his chin. As his eyes focus, Anilessa comes into view gazing downwards with her silver saber while breathing heavily. A large smile crosses Rend’s face as he dusts himself off and straightens up. After placing a hand on Anilessa’s shoulder, he simply states, “You are ready, Padawan.” Perplexed, Anilessa asks with a tilted head, “Ready for what, Master?” Rend chuckles as he beckons towards an approaching individual, “Ready for your true final trial.”
The only individuals not surprised when they realized the identity of the one who stepped onto the landing pad were Mirr, Rend and Athin. A cadence and sound not heard in many years filled the area as Anhiel, clad in her usual white armor and robes, moved confidently towards the center where Rend and Anilessa stood. Constant physical therapy and training over the years since she awoke from her slumber have clearly been effective as there is no sign of physical weakness. Happily, Rend states “I was not your final opponent, Padawan. I was only testing to see if you were ready to face a true master of the lightsaber. Even with her connection to the Force being greatly diminished, there is no one that I know who can go toe-to-toe with my master.” Rend’s sentences with great pride in his voice and he bows low to Anhiel. Shocked, Anilessa stands stunned for many moments until she starts to form a question. “Is this safe, Mother?” Unphased and with a commanding expression Anhiel responds flatly, “At this moment, I am not your mother. I am only your opponent; one who will not hold back like your master has.”
Turning her back to Anilessa, Anhiel takes a few steps to create space while her hands are held out to her side, summoning the silver saber hilts from within her robes as she did years ago. She turns back and crouches low, left arm raised across her upper body, weapon in a reverse grip and her right arm is held high above her head. The twin blades snap to life with the same vibrance as the day they were created, purple blades humming steadily with deadly intent yet pristine beauty. Rend walks quickly to join Mirr and Athin, whom he claps on the shoulder as a sign that things would be alright despite the Miraluka’s trepidation. Anilessa swallows once then breathes in deeply while igniting her single saber. Seconds drag on as the duo stare at each other and to Anilessa’s dismay, Anhiel refuses to move even when the Padawan begins to cautiously step forward. A minute passes as she probes her mother by moving closer at different points until she resolves herself to make the first strike. While standing just behind Anhiel’s left shoulder, Anilessa pulls back both hands before releasing a strong two handed thrust aimed at her opponent’s side. As the blade moves forward, Anilessa panics when Anhiel does not move immediately, “Noooo…what if it hits!?!?!?” Just as the thought finishes, Anhiel spins to the left so quickly it doesn’t register with the Padawan until the reverse gripped weapon connects with the incoming saber and spins it away. Anilessa clumsily continues to rotate and she somewhat recovers to bring her saber about in a diagonal slash with her left arm as she begins to face Anhiel once more. Without moving her strong stance, Anhiel brings her right arm across in a backhanded slash of her own with enough force that it knocks the weapon from the unsuspecting Padawan’s hand. Before she can comprehend what happened, all of the air is removed from Anilessa’s lungs as Anhiel’s armored right foot connects with the solar plexus. The powerful front kick not only causes the Padawan to gasp for air but any amount of air taken in is immediately expelled as she falls flat on her back.
While Anilessa gasps for breath, Anhiel sets one of her sabers on her belt then reaches out her right hand and summons her daughter’s saber to her. She turns the bronze hilt over in her hand slowly before igniting the silver blade; though it is not her first time seeing the weapon it is her first time facing it in combat and she views it in a new lens. Anilessa sits up a couple meters away with a groan then slowly rises to her feet. Anhiel’s opinion of the weapon she viewed was spoken within her mind, “This is more beautiful than my first….perhaps the Force will not require such sacrifices from her as it did I. Regardless, she will be ready for all of it, and more.” The voice that addressed her gave no impression of the weapons assessment and was one all those gathered had heard many times before, save Anilessa. “Do you know why you fell?” Anhiel moves the silver blade through the air for a moment before answering the question herself, “You fell because you underestimated me and thus held back and hesitated. If this were a real battle, I would have ended you in moments before doing the same to those under your command.” She extinguishes the saber then tosses it back to Anilessa, “Even your allies can become enemies in an instant. I pray that never is the case for you but you must still prepare for it. Regardless, I told you I am your opponent. Show me the young warrior I have heard so much about. I trained as I have for this moment alone; to measure the skill of the daughter I do not deserve.”
Anilessa catches the saber and gazes at her mother, the final words catching her off guard for a moment. She takes several moments to process the words until her left hand reaches up and removes the tan eyewrap before casting it aside. Now exposed, the eyeballs within their sockets are still somewhat underdeveloped; the right is icy blue the same as the woman before her, the other is a deep ebbing brown, swirling like the galaxy beyond. Those watching on were silent, only Thea, Athin and Mirr had seen the Padawan’s eyes before and to show them now could only signify the utmost respect to the opponent before her. However, the situation appeared different to Athin’s sight as his daughter’s aura flared red opposite of the diminished but still icy cool aura of his lover. Anilessa was pissed, not at her opponent but at herself for not giving her all and fighting true to herself against the one she wanted to prove herself to the most in all of the galaxy. The snap hiss of her saber cut through the silence and her facial expression was set with determination. Anilessa snarled loudly before launching forward towards her opponent, bringing forth speed and wrath she had not shown before, even to her own master. The excited grin that formed on Anhiel’s face brought more worry to Athin who rubbed his forehead tiredly, “Why must you both enjoy this so much?” Mirr chuckles loudly at the question spoken to no one in particular, “Rejoice Athin, I daresay you are the luckiest man in the galaxy. A life partner of unrivaled skill and beauty as well as a child who is well on her way to equal greatness, perhaps even more.” Athin sighs and begins to acknowledge the truth in the words when the Mandolarian adds a final comment, “Anilessa is becoming quite the pilot as well. The breadth of skills she enjoys and excels at are impressive.” Athin rubs his face once more and resolves himself to watch the battle taking place before him as he sighs internally, "Of course she would love flying as well….”
The match proceeded without any further pauses; five minutes, ten minutes, twenty minutes passed with the constant sound of metallic steps upon the landing pad, clashing sabers, and heavy breathing from the combatants. To the onlookers, the duel was nearly evenly matched. Anilessa was allowed to press the attack and she continued to be surprised by the speed, strength and flexibility of her mother at her current age and after her many injuries. The stories of the Silver Butcher as told by Thea would often flood back into her mind and press her to fight even harder. Even in a form that paled in comparison to years before, Anhiel brought a ferocity and skill that Anilessa could only be in awe of. Just past the thirty minute mark both women come to an abrupt stop with Anhiel’s back facing the crowd and the breath of several onlookers, primarily Athin, catches in their throats. Anilessa’s silver saber protrudes through the right side of the white cape Anhiel wore but before Athin could move, Mirr grasps his shoulder tightly, “Peace, friend. Look closely.” The weapon did punch through the cape but the reverse held purple weapon had moved it just far enough to the side that only the cape was impacted. At Anilessa’s neck was the sister blade, brought from her right with a backhanded slash while its wielder breathed heavily.
Where deadly intent usually resided within the icy irises, only pride shown in this moment and Anhiel extinguishes her sabers. Anilessa does the same and moves to speak but finds herself unable to as an iron grip wraps around her torso, the result of the hug Anhiel wrapped her up in. Words followed in the softest voice Anilessa had heard from her mother, “You truly are ready, my dearest Anilessa. Not even your father could come so close to besting me, even now.” Anhiel pulls back slightly so she can look directly into Anilessa’s exposed eyes before continuing, “You have grown into so much more than I could have ever hoped for and one day you will surpass everything I ever achieved.” With her armored hand, Anhiel strokes Anilessa’s left cheek gently then collapses to her knees heavily. Athin is upon her even before Anilessa could move and he admonishes his partner, “What the hell did you do?” Anhiel chuckles and waves a hand dismissively, “If I did not pull on the Force, she would have bested me handily.” Athin sighs, suppressing the anger he wanted to let out as he picks Anhiel up in his arms, “You never could stand losing. Why would I expect that to have changed?” She places a soft kiss on Athin’s cheek before responding, “As I have told you many times before my love, would you have fallen for me if I was anything but who I am?” Athin gruffs in response before calling over to Thea, “Miss Tragonus, can you prepare a tonic for this reckless one? She will need it before joining the celebration.” Thea nods and sets off while Athin looks back and shoots a cheeky grin to Anilessa, “Congratulations, Anilessa. Go and celebrate, you have earned it. Your mother and I will join you later, just know that there are no prouder parents in all of the galaxy.” As they walked away, the onlookers began to cheer and surround Anilessa, offering congratulatory words of their own to the child they had all watched grow up over the years.
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The beeps from nearby consoles steadily fill the air of the Republic flagship that sat silently in space surrounded by its escort of one cruiser, four frigates, two cruisers and several accompaniments of fighters and bombers. The Rear-Admiral in charge looks out the viewport impatiently when the door to the bridge opens up and a very grizzled man enters, not wearing the standard Republic uniform but that of the fleet commanded by the Enclave. He approaches the admiral and inclines his head slightly but is interrupted before he can speak, “Where is this Jedi we have been waiting for? Every moment we waste reduces the advantage of surprise.” Having once been in a similar place, Rend’s second in command admonishes the young admiral, “I speak from experience when I say it is unwise to speak ill of the Jedi of our enclave. Never have I seen better military commanders in my life. Are you familiar with the Silver Butcher?” The Rear-Admiral moves to retort quickly but his memory stops him, “You mean from the Great War?” The Commander nods once, “I do. High-Admiral Anhiel Dulcinae, the Silver Butcher. Known for her efficient yet brutal tactics and uncanny ability in Battle Meditation.” Though he recognizes the name, the purpose of the question remains unclear, “What does she have to do with our current mission? She retired years ago.” The elder commander sighs deeply before responding, “Yes, she did retire. We all know this, as do our enemies. However, what they do not know is that her child not only shows the same level of tactical ability, her Battle Meditation greatly exceeds her mother’s. That is the advantage of surprise that is coming, not timing. She will arrive when the time is right and our enemy will have committed more forces than they should have.” Just outside, many unknown enemy ships begin to drop from Hyperspace and the Admiral curses, “Defensive positions, now!”
Just above the Republic flagship appears the Shadow Redeemer, an old vessel but with new upgraded battle plating that twinkled in the light of turbolaser fire. Aboard the bridge stands Anilessa, now in her early twenties, wearing a freshly pressed white uniform and cape. Her hair is a pure white color and is pulled back in a tight ponytail. The battle before her is shown in a myriad of colors through her Miraluka sight and she settles into a meditative position on the spot she stands. With a deep breath she falls into the Force and allows her presence to expand across the Redeemer then its support vessels, followed by all remaining vessels in the area. Motivation, alertness, and some unknown experience floods into the Rear-Admiral’s mind as he melds with the Battle Meditation though Anilessa’s presence is not directly noticed. Perplexed, he turns to the Commander who merely shrugged, “Don’t ask me how it works, just be grateful it is on our side.” Back on the Shadow Redeemer, Anilessa orders smoothly, “Proceed as planned. They committed their entire force, if we eliminate the two identified vessels, their forces will fall into disarray. Overconfidence and multiple leaders, it's as if they want us to win.” From just behind her, Admiral Virkaen speaks loudly, “You heard her. Proceed as we planned and get a communication link established with the Republic commander.” As the vessels begin to move through space, Anilessa falls deeper into her meditation, letting everything but the battle fall away.