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“Give me one good reason we should move,” Veela demanded.

“Because we’ll never find Mandalore’s Mask if we stay here,” Canderous answered.

There was a long moment of silence, his words hanging in the air.

“Nobody knows where Revan hid the Mask,” Veela said quietly. “The clans have each staked out their territory, hoping it’s in their destiny to find that which we all seek.”

“Seems like a poor way to choose a leader,” Revan offered.

Veela glared at him, but it was one of the other women who replied.

“Fate will make the choice for us. Whichever clan is destined to find the Mask, will.”

“Is that how all the clans ended up here on Rekkiad?” Revan countered. “Fate? Chance? Blind luck?”

“You show your ignorance when you speak of things you don’t understand,” Veela said. “Fate and destiny are not the same as luck. It was not chance that brought us here. It was persistence. Perseverance. We are here because we are strong.” She paused a moment, then continued a little more calmly. “When Revan hid Mandalore’s Mask, most of our people scattered in disgrace. But some of us refused to give up. We stayed behind to look for what was lost instead of running off to become mercenaries and hired thugs.”

As she spoke, her eyes flicked toward Canderous. Revan followed her gaze to see his friend staring at the floor in shame.

“For years we have kept up our search,” she continued. “We know Revan disappeared for three days after the massacre at Malachor Five. There are only a handful of stable hyperspace lanes in that sector, only a few dozen habitable planets he would have been able to journey to in that time. So we have been searching each world in turn, scouring the surface meter by meter. On the first world there were less than fifty of us; it took us two years to explore the entire planet. But with each world our numbers grew. More clans joined in the search, and each clan’s numbers increased. Our quest gave us purpose; it united us as a people once more.”

She looked back at Canderous. “Slowly those who turned their backs on the Mandalorian ways have come trickling back. Now we number in the thousands. Over a hundred clans have gathered on Rekkiad. If we fail to find the Mask here, we will move on to the next world. And our numbers will continue to grow. Eventually we will find what we seek. And when one of our own finally reclaims Mandalore’s Mask, our numbers will be legion. On that day the new Mandalore will call upon the armies of our people, and we will answer!”

She turned and glared at Revan once more. “That is what we mean when we speak of fate,” she concluded “We will find what we seek. It is inevitable. It is the destiny of our people.”

The end of her speech was marked by a solemn silence. Looking around the room, Revan could see the power her words had on the other Mandalorians. Even Canderous had been moved.

“I can help you achieve your destiny,” Revan promised. “I know where Revan hid the Mask. Listen to me, and I will help you find it.”

“Impossible,” Veela said with a shake of her head. “Nobody knows where he hid Mandalore’s Mask.”

“I have access to resources you don’t,” Revan insisted, choosing his words carefully. “Republic records. Military transcripts. Battle plans. Flight paths and navigation charts. You say you aren’t even sure if the Mask is on Rekkiad. But I am. The Mask is here, on this world. And with my help, Clan Ordo will be the ones who find it.”

Veela didn’t say anything at first. Instead she turned and fixed her gaze on Canderous. “Avner is your friend,” she said, her words almost an accusation. “Can we trust him?”

“I wouldn’t have told him of our search if I didn’t trust him with my life,” Canderous answered without hesitation. “And I wouldn’t have brought him if I didn’t believe he could help us.”

All eyes focused on Veela as she considered all she had heard.

“Where do you suggest we move our camp to?” she finally asked.

“About fifty kilometers from here two columns of ice rise straight up, towering several kilometers above