Away from the Praxeum, Mishel asked Kyyrk to follow her. "Since it seems you enjoy the idea of interrupting gatherings." She turned toward him and gestured toward his weapons. "Draw your blade, let us see who and what you truly are because I'll admit ever since that day on Naboo. Something's been bothering me about you." As the words of her brother
Kyrel Ren
Kyyrk was and felt off as if he too were an abomination within the Force. The Force whispered words of truth and Mishel narrowed her gaze as she drew the blade.

Ossus's ghosts whispered around them, trees that did live scarcely rustled, and the ground beneath them was mostly bare. It held the scars of war, the horrors of death and destruction the silence of those gone before their time. "Come, let me see how the Confederacy truly teaches its Force Users, or do they all sit so heavily upon a gilded throne built on the ruins of others?" It wasn't that she held so high of an opinion of the Confederacy. It was that the nation had grown fat with content, and corruption it may as well have mirrored the Sith Empire. She was surprised the New Imperials and the Galactic Alliance hadn't already swarmed down on a crusade against the Sith who were harbored here.
