Sure, this next piece is a shogun-like scene set on a World War I trench line mixed in with Galciv references. What's so weird about that?
All was quiet on the front line. The border into Fellowship territory loomed ahead, and the brave operatives of the Spec Forces were mentally preparing themselves for the Big Push over the trenchlines. One soldier in particular, Samurai Ben, is kneeling while holding his sheathed katana out in front of him, deep in meditation. Suddenly, he springs to his feet, twirling to the right while simultaneously chopping at the air with his right hand while lowering his left arm swiftly to bring the scabbard down along his side. The razorhand stops a fraction of an inch from Gerakken's neck.
"You tread dangerously this day, Spymaster," the Samurai almost growls as he bows slightly.
Gerakken is frozen momentarily. He had removed his own scabbard from his belt and was holding it in his right hand, his arm half extended toward Ben. He now took a slight step back. "Good catch. You must have heard me when I unhooked my scabbard."
Ben nodded. "You already knew we were ready to invade the Fellowship. Why in this solemn time before battle do you disturb me so?"
"Honestly? I wanted to check out that mystical katana of yours. Got a decent look at it the other night while you were asleep, but I thought it would be more polite to show you my blade if you show me yours. Why did you traded in the light saber anyway? This new sword must have something better going for it, but it doesn't seem like it could cut through anything like that light saber could," Gerakken sheepishly explained.
"You dared remove the sacred blade from the scabbard!? To touch the blade of a samurai is an insult!" roared Ben with indignity as he raised the scabbard and pulled the blade slightly out.
"No, no, no!" Gerakken hurriedly said as he frantically motioned with both outstretched hands. "I stood over it with a scanner. But the images are not always very good. It is always better to see the object directly, and I already know all about not touching any samurai blades without proper ceremony."
Ben slipped the blade back into the scabbard and lowered it back down to his side. "Then let me ask yuo this first: why do you use the laser-edged cutlass and not steal one of the Jedi's light sabers for yourself?"
"Simple: one, if the mission does not require stealing something so valuable to one of them, why should I put my life on the line doing it for kicks when it would earn me an enemy for life who would hunt me down to the ends of the Metaverse! And, two, I like to hear the sound of the metal crunching through the bone. Sure, the laser gives it a little extra cutting power, but there is still some honest bloodshed and exercise involved," said Gerakken.
"You have a sense of honor, as strange as it may seem to me. It is not the same as mine, but I respect it," Ben said as he extends his scabbard out in front of him and half draws the blade. "A true samurai's blade is the reflection of the warrior's spirit. It radiates the light of the soul. It will cut anything from earth or heavens alike, and not break unless the warrior's spirit is broken."
"You mean it cuts anything and you get to feel bones crunch? Talk about the best of both worlds! Let me guess, there has to be a hitch to getting one of these," Gerakken pondered, waiting for the expected bit of bad news.
"You do not pick this kind of katana. It picks you. It is something earned after many years of training and sacrifice. Once the training is complete, there are a few ways to earn one: it can be passed down from an ancestor of the samurai, a master can make one attuned to the samurai, the samurai can make his own, or take it off of a slain foe. All the ways require the proper respect and reverence to tradition," Ben admonished.
"How did you get yours, then? If I may ask?" Gerakken hesitantly probed for an answer, unsure if it was wise to ask.
"It is also a Jedi tradition to make one's own light saber. Not many are skilled in the art in this age. Most light sabers are made by a precious few Jedi Masters now. I have been taught the art. With study, it was simple to make my own katana. The spiritual rituals are similar, even if the forging processes differ," Ben explained.
Just then, Piers rounded the curve in the trench. "Who are you talking to, Samurai Ben?" Gerakken was already slinking off hastily, nearly invisible, apparently unnoticed by Piers.
"It was nothing. I was talking with a wandering spirit drifting on the wind. Perhaps I will see it again after the battle." Ben smiled as he pictured where Gerakken might now go: to find a nice spot to survey the battle from, if he was not meddling with the Fellowship on the other side of the line first.
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