The air was thick with humidity, and the scent of damp earth mingled with the faint aroma of blooming flora as the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders established a base-camp within the surrounding hills and valleys to provide some measure of protection from a predicted Sith Empire invasion due to the significance of the world to them.
He had come for a rather selfish reason and not one entirely of Mandalorian origin, but to seek counsel from a scyer, a mysterious figure known only in whispers as the Orcale of Yavin whose rumored mastery of precognition and farseeing was legendary among certain circles.
Fett's armored figure constracted sharply with the forgotten landscape, the polished beskar glinting from the sunlight flitering through the leafy canopy overhead. As he approached the meeting place—an ancient stone altar draped in vines—Fett felt a shiver of fear as Kad Ha'rangir would offer no protection in this dark place.
The Oracle appeared seemingly out of nowhere, a figure cloaked in tattered robes that fluttered like shadows. Their face was obscured by a deep hood, leaving only a glint of eyes visible—sharp and knowing.
"Field Marshal Fett," they intoned, their voice echoing softly, as if carried by the wind itself. "You seek to unravel the future woven within the fabric of your campaign."
Fett nodded, his posture commanding yet respectful. "I need to know how the Kuat Campaign will unfold. The stakes are considerably high, and the Mandalorian Crusaders cannot afford to falter"
"Ah, the threads of Kuat," the Oracle mused, fingers splayed like a web of gnarled vines. "In the tapestry of the force, many colors are seen interweaving. The red of sacrifice, the blue of plasma, the green of hope, the yellow of great fire. But know this: the heart beats loudest where shadows gather around."
Fett furrowed his brow, trying to decipher the riddle. "What does that mean? What should we prepare for?"
"The river of fate flows both ways," the Oracle continued, their tone as enigmatic as ever. "A storm brews on the horizon, but within its tempest lies clarity for those willing to embrace the chaos. Seek not only the enemy's strength, but also the whispers of weakness to exploit. Allies can rise but only if you prove yourself able to calm the great ring."
Fett's thoughts raced. Was there a hint of treachery among his ranks? Or perhaps a hidden ally within Kuat's own shipyard? "And what of my strategies? Should I press on with the current plan?"
"Plans are mere shadows cast by the light of intent," the Oracle replied cryptically. "In the throes of battle, the unyielding embrace of the unexpected shall render your strategies as dust. A choice shall emerge, one that will echo through the ages—choose wisely, for the echoes shall reverberate."
Fett clenched his fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Is that all? I came seeking guidance to emerge triumphant, not riddles"
"The path is yours to tread, Field Marshal. The future remains unwritten, a canvas yet to be painted. But remember: the force align in ways unseen, and the heart knows its own truth."
With that, the Oracle began to fade into the shadows, leaving Fett alone with the cacophony of the jungle around him. He stood there, the weight of their words pressing heavily on his mind, knowing that the true battle lay not just with his enemies, but within the choices he would soon have to make.
