A New Player in the Force (SW/Lite Gamer)

[Idovelicus]

Yeah, this portrayal of Eidetic Memory doesn't sound like what it's named. It sounds more like PTSD but for literally every moment of your life, with more weight the more intense the emotions attached to any given moment.

 

[Warlord D Thorin]

there was quite a large tone shift in this chapter at the point when he started training with the shapers

 

[Idovelicus]

there was quite a large tone shift in this chapter at the point when he started training with the shapers

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That part makes sense, time skips will do that. Cam is in a very different headspace after months training in different circumstances.

 

[USSExplorer]

Honestly a lot of the recent chapters kinda feel like Cam is slipping to the dark side more and more. He's not balanced in the slightest, he's just rage and hate that he keeps bottled up inside. I don't like this. To be clear I don't care for the Jedi much either, but both Jedi and Sith are extremes at the opposite ends of a scale, and extremes tend to not be good. Really not liking cams thought processes since... I suppose since he started just bottling everything inside. Eidedic Memory shouldn't make him unable to let got of emotion. That's not how memory works. Time dulls the emotions related to memories after all. Even if he can't forget, over time the rage would lessen. Someone else said this, and I agree, Eidedic Memory is sounding more like it forces him to relive moments again and again, which is not what Eidedic Memory is IRL.

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This isn't IRL, and for ANP, Eidetic Memory has been that way since the very start of the story. The name was intentionally chosen to, in many ways, mislead Cam. Then, with the Interface filtering his connection to the Force, it dulled the emotional feedback of his memories. With that gone, he has to endure what that Player Power causes. At no point in the story, even waaayyyy back when I started this, were TPTB ever seen as 'good'. They gave Cam the option of where to be reborn for their amusement and even made bets on what he would do.
Consider them a little like Q from Star Trek, but with a meaner streak.

Add in that he's only had a few years to find something he would consider balance, and has turned to Adas for help, and it was only a matter of time until Cam began to fall. Adas knew this from the get go and has been subtly manipulating Cam towards the Dark Side. Not to become a Sith ala Sidious or Plagueis, but one able to 'break free' of his chains, and those imposed upon him by the Jedi and galaxy at large. (Think, if the reference works for you, Malgus later on in SWTOR).

Yeah, this portrayal of Eidetic Memory doesn't sound like what it's named. It sounds more like PTSD but for literally every moment of your life, with more weight the more intense the emotions attached to any given moment.

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In many ways it is, but even before being reborn, Cam was one who let his emotions get in the way at times. As seen by the mistake that led to his initial death. Eidetic Memory just makes it nearly impossible for him ever recover from everything he's endured.

 

[Storylover213]

Just a question if your claiming that their might be NSFW content should this be their instead of here just curious is all.

 

[USSExplorer]

Just a question if your claiming that their might be NSFW content should this be their instead of here just curious is all.

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There won't be NSFW content as it PWP or the like. I'll always stick to the fade-to-black approach.
However, something like what is shown and hinted at in the Fallen Apprentice arc, or the general horrors of war are what I mean for the story potentially becoming NSFW. The reason I've never asked for it to be moved yet is simply because I keep forgetting and don't think that such scenes/arcs are common enough yet to warrant the move.

 

[Ruy]

fade-to-black

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I have some scenes like that in space battles, so I think it is fine here. Same for the horrors.

 

[USSExplorer]

A/N: As always, a huge thank you to those helping with lore and planning for this and my other stories.

And again, this chapter was released to those of sufficient rank on the story's Discord (it pays to talk) about a month ago. For those who support my writing, then it was released between 1 to 4 months ago (and those supporters can also access chapters that far in advance).

If joining the Discord or supporting my writing interests you, there is a link at the end of the chapter for how to do so.

A/N (2): This chapter hasn't had the same careful looked over from LuciferBael as usual as he has begun his own story and then was challenged by a Smurf to get out 100k in 10 days.

LuciferBael managed the challenge, and the name of the story is at the end of the chapter, but if there's something that feels rougher than normal, blame the Smurf.

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3.09 Family and Training
… …​

The furnace whispered its surrender. The heat faded, the air cooled, and in my hands, I cradled the fruit of fire and will—a crystal, born of my defiance. This one had been forged with nothing but my strength of will and desire. I was still disappointed that the first attempt had cost me one of the two crystals I'd gotten from the crystal cave on Ilum, but with a replacement now in my hand I accepted the price I'd had to pay.

There had been another attempt before this one as well, where I'd tried to temper my rage in shaping a crystal, pushing other strong emotions that weren't associated with the Sith into creating the lattice of a crystal. However, that attempt had produced a flawed crystal, one Observe made clear was unusable in a lightsaber. I had placed it in my Inventory on the chance that one day it might have a use, but I was uncertain if such a day might ever arrive.

This crystal was forged in blood and rage, tempered in the fires of my refusal to yield. It was the reflection of my war—not against an enemy, but against the galaxy itself. Against what it demanded I become. It had taken days of constant effort, the third such effort inside half a month, but in the end, my efforts had been rewarded and as I held the crystal up, placing it between my fingers, I failed to see any sign of a flaw. Still, I had to be sure.

Artificial lightsaber crystal (miniature)
An artificial lightsaber crystal created by Cameron Shan.
This crystal, while capable of being used as a focus for the Force, is too small to be used as the single focusing crystal within a lightsaber.
HP: 15
Rarity: Unique
Value: 5000 Credits
Energy Value: 500
Attuned Users: Cameron Shan (100%)
Special Features:
Grants a minor boost to the usage of Force powers that a Force user demands the Force help them with.
...
​

My brow rose at seeing the slight boosts this artificially created crystal granted me, and curious about the differences I pulled the remaining crystal from Ilum from my Inventory.

Ilum Adegan Crystal (miniature)
A crystal from the caves of the planet Ilum.
This crystal, while capable of being used as a focus for the Force, is too small to be used as the single focusing crystal within a lightsaber.
HP: 5
Rarity: Uncommon
Value: 3000 Credits
Energy Value: 300
Attuned Users: Cameron Shan (100%)
Special Features:
Grants a minor boost to the usage of Force powers that work in concert with the Force.
...
​

​

It was interesting to see the differences between the two crystals. The Ilum crystal sang with harmony—a melody of millennia, a hymn of the Force as it wished to be. My crystal roared—a symphony of defiance, raw and untamed, its notes jagged and sharp.

The fact the artificial crystal was worth more than the natural one was an odd discovery, however, days of effort to make the crystal didn't suggest it was worth considering creating crystals for revenue. And that was before I considered how much my writings and holomovies were making me.

The Energy Value of the crystals, and other objects that had it listed, was still something I'd yet to determine the purpose for. It only appeared on objects that held strong connections to the Force, yet the more obvious possible uses – such as trying to store the Force inside them, or using them as focusing crystals for the Force had failed to achieve anything. I'd used some of the crystals I'd found on Dantooine when I'd visited there many years ago with Fay, as other than using one for the focusing crystal in my shoto lightsaber, and another for Padmé's lightfoil, they'd served no purpose until now. I was uncertain if I might ever learn the reason the Interface listed Energy Value with objects connected to the Force, and I was not going to commit more thought to discovering its purpose.

My thoughts right now were more on the fact Observe gave no hint the crystal I'd created wouldn't work in a lightsaber, and trying to contain my excitement, I pulled the various components – those that had survived the battle with Maul and those I'd had to purchase as replacements – from my Inventory. The small greater krayt dragon crystal and the Mantle of the Force were also taken out. Holding the Mantle in my hand, and knowing this would be the last time in a long time that I could do so, I used Observe upon the ancient Force crystal.

Mantle of the Force
(Unique Force Crystal)
One of two legendary Force crystals linked with Revan.
While the origins of this crystal have been lost to the ages, the potential it possesses has not.
HP: 20
Rarity: Unique
Value: 50000
Energy Value: 1000
Attuned Users: Cameron Shan (100%)
​

Special Features:
Enhances the benefits of any other crystals used in a lightsaber.
Grants a small increase in the potency of an attuned user's Force abilities.
​

...
​

It had taken far longer than I'd expected to attune Revan's former crystal to me entirely, and when I'd finally managed to do so, I'd not yet gotten Mechanics [Lightsaber] to the required level to allow me to add it as a fourth crystal to my old lightsaber. That restriction was gone now, and I was curious as to what boosts it brought to the two main crystals I would be adding to my new blade, and my ability to focus the Force through it.

I placed a clean, silk towel on the ground, ensuring that the various components didn't bring even a speck of dirt into what I was about to begin. This towel was one I'd been given years ago by Fay as a way to help clean and maintain my lightsaber, and to rest the components if I ever disassembled my blade to make alterations. I had everything I needed to create my lightsaber, though the casing I was using this time wasn't the one I intended as the final design.

For that, I would need to travel to Mandalore. One of the smaller teeth from the dragon I'd killed for my verd'goten – yet the tooth was still longer than my palm – would be used for the hilt. The inside of the tooth would be hollowed out and the components placed inside. The tooth would be coated externally in beskar, preventing anyone from destroying my blade as Maul had done on Naboo.

I knew many would see my usage of Mandalorian Iron in my lightsaber's hilt as a sign that my loyalties ran stronger with the Mando'ade than the Jedi, but that choice had been one I'd come to over the last year and a bit. If I had to choose, my loyalty lay with my fellow Mando'ade and not the Jedi, nor the masters they failed to question in the Republic.

That said, I had no intention of leaving the Order just yet. Staying a member of the Jedi offered many benefits that I intended to exploit, including potential access to the Archives with a focus on the Holocron Vaults. Dooku had ideas there, but I could think about those later. My focus now, as I made sure each of the components I would be using was clean and ready, was on building my new weapon.

I took one final look at everything that lay before me and then closed my eyes. I stretched out my arm, placing my organic hand above the towel, and after taking a deep breath to centre myself, called forth the Force. I felt it flow through me, understanding my desires, and moving toward what lay on the towel. My breath caught in my throat as I felt my connection to the crystals I would be using – even the dragon pearl – as the Force brushed over them. I'd never experienced that before, providing yet another reminder that Natural Selection had been the correct choice.

From the Ilum crystal, the connection was gentle and soothing. It was as if the Force was melding with me, granting me the ability to flow with its desires and help bring forth the path it wished for. From the crystal I'd just created, the Force was more energetic. Not turbulent, but definitely primal. It desired control or for me to dominate it and guide it to help create the galaxy I wished for. The Force in the synthetic crystal bore hints of my Force presence, in much the same way as Raven did, yet without the higher intelligence the living starship possessed. From the pearl, there were lingering hints of animalistic mentalities, yet it was the Mantle that drew my focus.

I could sense my presence within it, yet the way the Force flowed with, through, and around it was different: something unique. It felt as if it wished to work with other crystals, to help them become something greater as it, in ways I failed to truly understand, altered the very Force that slid through it. This aligned with everything Observe had stated, yet being able to feel and experience it was an entirely different matter than simply knowing it was happening.

Understanding now instinctively how the crystals responded to the Force and me, I created the weapon I wished to build in my mind's eye. I knew in my soul how the crystals should align, and how the various technical components would be placed around them. Understanding my desires and working with me, the Force shifted, and I felt everything that was to be part of my lightsaber lift into the air.

I took things slowly, not wanting anything to be misaligned, and had the crystals and components float around each other, finding the perfect positions to create the most powerful weapon. This task, the creation of a lightsaber, could only be done by one skilled in either using or working with the Force. The Jedi and Sith were the obvious choices, but I felt others, such as skilled Shapers, could create a weapon of similar potential. To create a weapon of this magnitude demanded more than a connection to the Force—it demanded mastery. Precision. A will unbroken and unyielding. This was not an instrument of peace or war. It was a monument to power. A singularity of purpose that could rival the stars themselves.

Time dissolved, a casualty of my singular focus. The Force bent to my will, shaped by my purpose, moulded by my command. There was no partnership here, no harmony—only control. Each component, each crystal, moved where I demanded, the galaxy itself aligning with my design.

Eventually, uncertain of how much time had passed though it felt as if I had only just closed my eyes, the last piece slid into place. This was the configuration I needed, the one that would work best with me, the Force, and how I wished to use it. I moved the temporary hilt forward, sliding the assembly inside it, and then sealed the hilt with a latch that could only be opened by someone using the Force. Others could attempt to build a lightsaber, but only one skilled in the use of the Force could create a hilt for which the latch to gain access to the crystals and components was stored internally.

I opened my palm, and the hilt glided toward me. My fingers closed slowly around it, taking ownership of my new lightsaber, and as I felt the Force react happily to my creation, my eyes opened so that I could see what I'd forged.

I couldn't help but smile as if I were a youngling in a candy store as I took in the weapon I'd created. The hilt might not be the final one, but the familiar curved nature of it and the simple pommel felt comfortable in my grasp. This weapon was one built by and for me, and I now felt complete.

This blade was as much a part of me as my mechanical arm was, more so even. The parts might not be made of flesh and blood, but the blade was an extension of my will. I turned the hilt over, marvelling at what I'd created. It was smooth, with the ignition switch being stored internally.

Once the final casing was ready, I'd be adding other options as well, all of which would also be stored internally. Well, all but one of them. The only external extra would be an in-built DNA scanner in the grip. That was to ensure that even if another Force user activated the internal switch to ignite the blade if their pattern wasn't stored in the hilt then the blade would fail to ignite. The other features, such as the ability to work underwater, or alter the length of the blade on whim, would be internal. They would only work if my hand grasped the blade, so none could interfere with my weapon, nor turn it against me.

I stood slowly, careful to not let the hilt slip from my grip, and quickly moved into the standard opening stance of Makashi. Without trepidation, as if I knew the blade would work perfectly, The blade ignited with a whisper—a predator's growl echoing across the ages. The sound curled in my ears, primal and alive. It was not a weapon. It was a heartbeat, a howl, a promise. I smiled—a predator's smile—as the glow bathed the room. This was no Jedi's weapon.

"Interesting," I muttered, my gaze fixed on the blade's crimson edge. The red bled into the darkness of the core, consuming the light. It was not a deviation—it was an evolution. A mark of what I had become. The change must have come from the crystal I'd created that now lay at the heart of the weapon. The black light at the blade's core, which seemed to consume all light around it, darkened the red of the edge, but even so, I knew many would see this and assume more deeply that I had turned to the Sith.

I should've seen this coming to be honest. Almost every Sith blade – be they of the Banite line or one that came from before Ruusan – had borne a red artificial crystal at its core. Why, when I'd used the same process, should my blade be any different?

Now, there were some Jedi who used a red blade, but those crystals were naturally occurring ones. Much like the one I'd found on Dantooine that I had used in the creation of Padmé's lightfoil. Those Jedi with such blades were rare, with only black being rarer. In theory, the fact other Jedi had wielded red blades should absolve concerns from the Order, but I knew for a significant faction, it would only increase their distrust of me.

Jon Savos and Master Belfarr had always been the two most vocal voices against my presence in the Order. Others, such as Masters Windu and Piell had grown more accepting toward me, though I knew they still harboured reservations about me and my intentions. The newest voice to speak against me was Sia-Lan Wezz.

The former friend had turned, choosing to speak negatively about me because of what had happened to Serra and Master Drallig. That was disappointing as while we weren't that close, I had enjoyed her friendship, and watching her movements while we sparred. The girl was very blessed in ways that I could appreciate. Yet for all that, I was fine with losing her friendship.

She and the others could say what they wanted. I would deny it, of course, but it was amusing that they were right that I was a threat to the Order. Just not, perhaps, in the way they believed. The path I lay on was different from the Jedi, and so long as they made no move to prevent me from travelling where I wished to go, then I could ignore them for now. In the future, as war swallowed the galaxy, I knew I would find myself across the battlefield from the Jedi at times, but that was far enough away that I didn't allow it to concern me greatly.

I stepped forward, guiding my new blade through one of the base velocities of Makashi. The movement was, as it had been for years, perfect. Yet now, with the Force flowing freely and a blade crafted by my intentions, the action was smoother, perhaps even easier and more efficient. The blade slid around, moving so easily and accurately that it was as if it could sense and anticipate my intentions and desires. This blade was an extension of me, and moved in perfect alignment with my actions, letting the Force flow through and around us.

My smile grew wider, threatening to encompass all of my lower face, as I worked through more of the velocities of my base form. My feet shifted, bringing in the Ataru footwork I'd adopted into my personal style. My movements became easier, more fluid and graceful as the Force shifted with me, accepting my intentions, and acquiescing to them.

For the first time since Naboo… no, since my rebirth in this universe, I felt complete. I'd never understood just how much of a part of someone their lightsaber was until this moment. Around me, the world fell away as I moved through various velocities. Nothing else mattered for the time being, not Anakin or others I cared deeply for, or my slowly developing plans for the future. All that existed was myself, my lightsaber and the Force.

… …

​

---

​

… …
I pulled back, avoiding the fist that rushed toward my face, yet as the hand opened, I understood what was to happen but didn't react in time. A second later I was flying through the air, landing with a thud in the dirt around me.

"Osik!" I spat out and slammed my fist into the ground, angered at again failing to stop Simvyl from taking me down. Yes, I'd agreed to not draw on the Force heavily while we sparred, and yes he had become a far stronger warrior since Naboo – when he was still as good as most of the Mando'ade – but this was getting fucking annoying. What made it worse was the pleased smirk the Cathar had as he moved toward me.

"That's seven-six to you," he says as he extends a hand. "As much as I'm enjoying taking you down, I can tell something is bothering you."

I grunt in annoyance even as I take the hand. "Perhaps you've just gotten better than me over the last week," I snapped back, though it would be clear to even a youngling that I don't believe my words.

Simvyl sighed. "Cam, in the time since we first met, I've seen you fight hundreds of times, and sparred with you more times than I can count." My mind instantly supplied the number, revealing to be north of seven thousand, though some of those were spars that bled from one into another so might not count as individual spars. "Yes, ever since Naboo I have grown stronger by joining you and Anakin in your training, and I am grateful for you helping me become an even stronger warrior, but don't lie to yourself. For each step forward I've taken, you've taken a dozen more at least. I barely manage to score a single point in our spars and yet all morning you've been off. A hair too slow, a fraction late in responding. Even a blind, deaf, and dumb gundark could tell something is bothering you."

I look at Simvyl carefully as I consider his words. Since we first met on Zonama Sekot he's matured, and while still young at twenty-one, he has evolved into a powerful and skilled fighter. He is someone I consider a good and trusted friend though I know I've spent more time since Naboo training Anakin than interacting with him. He has never hinted at being upset about this and worked hard to join our training when and how he can. Yet for all that, I know that he still has some way to go before he reaches his peak and becomes one of the greatest ever Cathar warriors.

I grunt in annoyance at his words and kick the ground at my feet. "It's complicated," I mutter as I watch the clump of dirt I just kicked go flying away, "and has much to do with where we are."

We landed on Mandalore about a week ago, and I quickly sought out the Mando'ade metalsmiths so that they could create the hilt I desired. However, it turned out that my exact idea wasn't feasible, and they suggested something slightly different. Instead of creating a simple coat of beskar to go over the tooth, the metalsmiths told me they could infuse the metal into the tooth, making the entire thing stronger and allowing the natural colour of the tooth to remain, though enhanced by the distinct ripples of beskar. I was overjoyed at their suggestion and asked them to create it, and while it wasn't yet finished, they assured me it would be but another day or two until I had a weapon worthy of a true Mando'ade in my hands.

Word of what I was creating leaked to the two most powerful figures in the sector, and over one dinner Dukes Adonai and Torrhen – though both barely used the Republic-created titles for themselves – had asked me about the weapon. Between the pair of them, they controlled nearly seventy per cent of the sector and had the loyalty of nearly sixty per cent of the people. The rest, while not openly backing the pair, chose to follow decrees they passed, suggesting one or both could attempt to become Mand'alor.

Neither had however and while they both said it was because they felt unworthy of the title, I knew there was more to it. There was already a reigning Mand'alor, Jango Fett, though he had no interest in claiming the title, or at least using it to unite the clans. Instead, he had devoted himself to bounty hunting, becoming, unless something had heavily altered in this timeline, the template for the Clone Army and using Kamino as his base of operations white he raised his son, Boba.

Jango had become Mand'alor when his adopted father and the last to claim the title through strength of arms, Jaster Mereel, was betrayed and killed. Jango had avenged his father's death but afterwards turned his back on his people. Tor Vizsla had styled himself the secret Mand'alor and ruled via the Darksaber, and while Jango had killed him, I knew that Pre had the blade and was working to become the next Mand'alor. However, like Adonai and Torrhen, he didn't seek out Jango and challenge the bounty hunter to single combat.

There was a good reason for this, as from what I'd seen of his fighting, Jango was a greater warrior than any of the three. Because of that, until Jango died, or some new and unexpected challenger emerged who could defeat and kill Jango, there would be no Mand'alor to lead the people.

I didn't know for certain that Jango was on Kamino, beginning the training of the clones, but given many other warriors – names such as Vhonte Tervho, Kal Skirata, and Dun Marod who had all fought for me on Naboo – had gone missing, I felt it was a safe bet that he was there. The project was, as was always intended by them, under the control of the Banite Sith. The question was, with Sifo-Dyas dead, who was the puppet that Sidious had ordered to take control of the project?

I was heavily interested in the clone project, but knew that turning up on Kamino without an excellent reason to head to such an isolated system, would draw the suspicion of the Kaminoans, and through them, have the Banite Sith know that I knew of Kamino. Such a move risked exposing that I knew more than they thought I knew, and as I knew I was far from ready to take on either of them, never mind both or with Anakin in tow, then the longer they remained unknowing of the extent of my knowledge, the safer it would be for me and those I cared about, and it was two such people that had left me distracted all morning.

As I'd known would happen, the first night I was back on Mandalore, Bo and Naz had dragged me to bed, wanting to make up for our time apart. I had happily indulged those needs, though their suggestions that I challenge the dukes and attempt to become Mand'alor myself were ones I ignored and avoided. I wasn't strong enough, at least not without the Force, to defeat Adonai or Torrhen, to say nothing of Jango.

"Complicated as in dangerous, or complicated as in involving your females."

Simvyl's insightful comment drew my thoughts away from the future of the Mando'ade, and I chuckled at how easily he'd hit the nail on the head. "Where females are involved, is it ever anything but both," I responded, drawing a snort of amusement from him.

I turned and looked to where I knew Keldabe lay. Somewhere in the city, with HK and R2 as escorts, Anakin was being led around by my two lovers. I knew that Anakin would be heading to a Mandalmotors design facility later today – Alor Dred had allowed my request for Anakin to research some of his ideas at Dred's company's facilities, though on the promise that if the boy wished to have his designs made, that Mandalmotors had an opportunity to consider helping – but beyond that he was at their tender mercies as to what they'd do and where they'd go.

Fenrir was further to the south of me, enjoying himself deep in a remote forest. I'd left him there two days ago, letting him be the alpha predator he was, and I'd felt semi-regular bouts of delight from him. No doubt that meant that he'd either made a fresh kill, defeated a challenger or even both.

Simvyl and I had headed out to this open field so that we could spar and so that I could take my mind off the offer Naz, and less enthusiastically, Bo had made last night after our latest evening of carnal pleasure. However, it seemed their offer was haunting my thoughts and distracting me from the spar.

"They seek offspring?" My head snapped back to Simvyl, shocked at him knowing what the ladies wanted. He chuckled at my reaction. "I may not be Human," he explained, "but the mating dance has many similar actions regardless of species." He took a long sniff of the air. "As usual their scent is all over you this morning. Add in that you all are over the Age of Responsibility, what I now know of how important offspring are to Mandalorians, and that through Anakin you have shown yourself to be a good father, is it any wonder they wish to bear your progeny?"

I smirk at his words. "You are a touch too diplomatic and formal about their request, but you are right." I turned around and looked toward Keldabe, to where the two women who had taken space within my heart were. "I'm not opposed to having children, nor with them being mothers to my kids. It's just…"

"You fear for their safety because of the war you have made clear you know is coming?" I nodded but kept my focus on the city hundreds of miles away. "Understandable, but illogical. You are a warrior, Cam, an alpha in the most animalistic sense. Deny it you might, but you seek this war and look forward to it. That means you also want to establish your dominance over the coming darkness, which you believe will be perhaps ten years from now." I nodded again. "Then why are you afraid of bearing younglings with those you love? If you deny yourself the chance now, then as the war grows closer and the danger increases, the chances your offspring will be capable of surviving decreases. It is both logical and primal that you have your children now so that when the war comes, you have prepared them for it as best you can."

I grunt in annoyance at the wisdom in his words and begin walking toward where Raven is parked. "You're right."

"Of course," he responded with a smirk. "But I feel there are other concerns you have about taking your women and having them bear your progeny."

I fought back the image that formed in my mind of Naz and Bo, my cum leaking out of their bodies after I'd impregnated them. That was something I didn't need to see currently, not even in the deeper corners of my mind. "The Jedi," I said slowly, responding to his inquiry. "If they discover I have children, they will seek to test them, and if they display aptitude with the Force, will want to take them to the Temple and deny me access to them. And of course, the fact that, while not a requirement, most Mando'ade would be expected to marry those with whom they share a child."

We were within sight of Raven now, and I moved to a small crate I'd brought out, knowing there were chilled bottles of water inside. As I reached the crate, Simvyl spoke up again.

"I can't speak for Lady Vizsla, but we both know that Bo-Katan has about as much interest in marriage as you do in becoming celibate." I choke at his blunt, but arcuate comparison. "Even with the emphasis that Mandalorians place on family, she's something of an outlier."

"True, but Naz is another matter, and not just because she might like the idea of being bound to me," I say as I reach into the crate. "Her father… well, it's clear he dislikes the Jedi, and me even more so. She was engaged to the heir of another clan, and while that is over, I believed that the heir is still interested in her, so taking Naz as mine would cause issues with that clan as well as Alor Pre."

Simvyl caught a bottle as I tossed it to him. "Are any of them strong enough to challenge you for her hand?"

"Pre perhaps, but I know I can take him," I say as Simvyl take a sip of his water.

"Then it doesn't matter," He said after his sip, "as much as there was a time when I would've felt insulted to say this, Mandalorians are not unlike the Cathar. We might claim to be civilised and obey expected Republic norms, but we are a warrior people, as are the Mandalorians. For our peoples, it is strength or arms, both personal and clans, that matter and not who has the highest office, or who holds the most credits." He grunted and shook his head. "Perhaps that is the failing of the Republic," he muttered to himself, but his words reached me regardless. "If they dislike your arrangements with Lady Vizsla and Bo-Katan, then they can either challenge you about it and lose, or know their place and mind their tongue."

"Is this how Cathar society works?" I asked before drinking some of the water in my bottle. I could've said more, but I'm interested in what else Simvyl has to say. I've spent much of the morning going over the matter of children with Bo and Naz in my head, and I find that I'm enjoying having a male to speak with. Simvyl has, without me realising it, become my closest male friend. Hells, with Darihd dead, he is possibly my only male friend. That is both amusing and slightly concerning.

Simvyl smirked, exposing his fangs. "To a degree, yes. But then all cultures work along similar lines. At least where the influence of the Republic hasn't twisted their ideals. To those in the Core and worlds like them, power comes from credits and political influence. On the more remote worlds, or those home to species and cultures like the Cathar, Zygerrians, and Mandalorians, sentients understand that while credits and influence grant some control, true power belongs to those with the strength to take it. That, when push comes to shove, the galaxy belongs to the warriors and not those who seek peace and understanding."

My head tilted as I accepted and agreed with his logic. The Core is flawed and corrupt, something easiest to see on Coruscant but present elsewhere. What amused me about his statement was how, even if he would never know it, how close some of his ideas about what true power was and what it meant aligned closely with those of Adas.

"As for your concerns about the Jedi taking your progeny, I feel there is little for you to be concerned about." My brow rose questioningly at the certainty in his voice. "Mandalorians dislike the Jedi, thus I'm sure they have ways to falsify the records of the Force potential of any born into their culture. If you are still concerned that the Jedi might seek out your children regardless of the test, I suspect Duke Adonai in particular would be willing to ensure your name is not on any public records regarding the parentage of the children."

I looked at him, impressed with the insight. "Such a simple deception wouldn't fool the Jedi or Sith, and the moment they learn either of the ladies are with child, they will move to take the baby, knowing it's mine. It won't take them much effort to take either, no matter how hard Bo and Naz would fight, they're no match for a Jedi Master or a Sith Lord." I smirked as I finished my bottle and then used the Force to levitate the crate. "It's not exactly a secret how close I am with the pair."

Simvyl chuckled as we moved to enter Raven. "No, it certainly isn't," he said, "I believe half of the city has heard your couplings over the last few nights." A wide grin spread over my face at the idea I might have kept others up while Bo, Naz, and I partook in carnal desires with each other. "Still, while you are right that neither of them would be a match against a Jedi or Sith, we both know they would not face such a threat alone. Their clans, and perhaps much of the sector, would take up arms against any attempt to take one of their children or interference in Mandalorian affairs by the Jedi or Republic."

I didn't reply immediately, instead working to ensure the crate was onboard and settled on the floor. Simvyl made it sound as if the Mando'ade would declare war against the Republic if the Jedi took any children I potentially had in the future. I, however, doubted that would be the case. Oh, I'd expect their clans to seek vengeance, but only them. That said, the idea of Bo and Naz launching a two-woman assault on the Temple, and doing considerable damage to it, was quite amusing.

"Thank you for your counsel," I said once the crate was secure, and I had asked Raven to close the ramp. "You've helped me see the path I might take. Though I warn you that any lack of sleep you get from tonight onwards is your own fault."

He laughed good-naturedly at that and patted my shoulder. "I shall ensure I have aids to block out external sounds then. As much as the glances I get from others because of your behaviour amuses me, I need my beauty sleep."

"That you do," I snapped back with a grin. He smacked my shoulder as we both laughed at the joke though before anything else could be said or done, the comm unit in my arm beeped for attention. A simple tap opened the channel, and a small hologram of a familiar person appeared. "Osto, what can I do for you this morning?" I asked the heir to Clan Ordo.

"Cam," he replied, making clear instantly that this was a social call, "just wanted to check in with you and Simvyl. We've got another game of Meshgeroya planned for tonight."

I smirk at the revelation. "We're game, but I thought you'd be tired of losing so much," I responded, commenting on the fact that in the five games that we'd played so far, Osto had always been on the other team, and the score was four-to-one in my favour when it came to victories.

Meshgeroya was the Mando'a name for Limmie, a popular sport played throughout the galaxy. Amusingly, the name translated into 'The Beautiful Game', which fit well as the game bore a lot of similarity to football from my former life. The biggest difference, beyond the size of the playing area, was that it was far more violent, at times bearing more similarity to rugby than football, and thankfully had none of the more recent 'improvements' brought into football that had slowed things down and sucked some of the enjoyment from the game.

The rules of Meshgeroya weren't too different from football, so I took to the game easily, and since that first game, Simvyl and I had always found time to play it with the Mando'ade around our age. Beyond the building camaraderie that brought forth, it helped Simvyl become further accepted by the Mando'ade.

"Today will be the day you fall, defeated and broken at my feet!" Osto proclaimed dramatically while pumping his fist in the air. A moment later we all laughed at his comment, and he then continued. "I just wanted to be certain. This evening Gar and Tor will depart on assignment."

I nodded, remembering that Gar Saxon told me that he was, along with about twenty others including Rook Kast, Bryn Tyri, and Tor Vizsla, heading to the Gaia system. There they'd help the Lokella train their warriors for future raids against various slaver groups, and advise on ways to improve planetary and system defence.

There was something oddly poetic about Gar heading there to train the Lokella when it had been his father who had led the first assault from Decca the Hutt that attempted to re-enslave the, at the time unnamed group. He had long accepted that my killing of his father was honourable, even the actions of his father were not, but I still at times found it odd how easily Gar and I had become, if not friends, then comrades in battle.

Gar was aware that many Lokella wouldn't be happy to have a Saxon present on Mtael's Gift, but he was unconcerned by it. He had chosen this assignment aware of that issue, and like any true warrior would face the challenge head-on. I'd believed him for the most part, but still used the Force and Observe to confirm his honesty on the matter.

What was interesting, at least to me, was that Tor Vizsla, the son and heir of Pre and Naz's older brother, would be joining Gar and the others. Since the assault on Keldabe at the start of the most recent civil war, Tor had become a vocal opponent to the Death Watch, so much so that Observe didn't register it among his loyalties, though he retained a strong loyalty to his father. Tor's hatred toward Death Watch would infuriate Pre, as that man intended to rebuild the Death Watch in his image and, after either defeating Jango in combat or learning the bounty hunter was dead, proclaim himself Mand'alor. Though perhaps not as much as how close I was to Naz, or that through her Tor and I were becoming comfortable in each other's company.

One day, based on the quest I had for him, I knew Pre and I would face off in battle. If, as was the most likely option, I was forced to kill him in that battle, it would be interesting to see how Tor and Naz responded to that. I expected Naz to be sad but accepting, even – if we had children by then – that I proved her choice in taking me as her mate. Tor, however, was going to need watching, which was why the growing friendship with him was a useful thing in that regard as well.

"What time will we play?" I asked Osto.

"The usual," He replied.

I checked with Simvyl and got a nod, confirming he was interested in playing. "Then we'll see you then," I said to Osto before closing the channel. I started heading toward the cockpit, Simvyl walking with me. "I guess we'll have to pick up Fenrir earlier than I expected."

The Cathar chuckled. "I'm sure he's going to love that."

I laughed. Fenrir was going to hate having his hunt cut short, but I knew we wouldn't be spending much longer on Mandalore. The beskar metalsmiths assured me that the hilt for my blade would be completed by this evening, and I wanted to depart from the planet by tomorrow night at the latest.

Anzat was to be the next culture that I was to train with. Simvyl had expressed interest in learning from a race known to produce some of the most dangerous assassins, blood trackers, and hunters in the galaxy. Anakin, however, wouldn't be joining this training. He was too young, and I didn't want him around a species that, even if they didn't do so to every outsider, were known to feed on the lifeforce of others.

Now, only the most feral of Anzati tried to feed without thought, but I wasn't going to place Anakin, someone with the highest Force potential in the galaxy – if not of all time – into such a place. He would remain on Raven, guarded by Fenrir, HK and R2. I'd see what I could go about coming back to train him when I could, but regardless I'd be leaving detailed instructions of what he should do and when; along with permitting HK to gently enforce my rules.

Of course, before we could go to Anzat, I had to gather up my oddball family and say goodbye to friends and lovers. Perhaps, if the timing was right, leave one or both with the gift they desired.

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I rested on the ground, my knees taking most of my weight while my lower legs were bent under me. I kept my backside off my heels, as that was part of the instructions the Guardian of The Way had given me when I, and around fifty others had entered the Hall of Testing at this Sanctum of The Way. The Way was how the Anzati referred to the overarching martial art they followed.

I'd learnt this, and a bit more about the world when we arrived in orbit about a week ago, the Star Marshall who greeted our arrival providing a decent overview of how to learn The Way. There were five Sanctums upon the planet – all located on one of the two northern continents, where those wishing to learn The Way – be they Anzati or off-worlders – could attempt to prove their worth.

The Sanctums only opened on certain dates each year and were very particular about which sentients they would take as an Initiate of The Way. Anyone who failed a Sanctum's Trial had to wait half a year before reapplying to another Sanctum, and if one failed to gain entry to any of the five Sanctums, then they were unworthy forever of learning even the first steps of The Way.

Those taken as Initiates trained at the Sanctum where they had proved their worth for however long it took to be determined by the Guardians to attempt the First Judgment. Completion of the First Judgment saw an Initiate become an Apprentice and then be able to choose the path they wished to walk.

The most common path taken by off-worlders was the Path Of the Hunter; a route dedicated to warriors who fought with distraction and diversion. The two other most common paths were that of the Tracker and the Assassin. Most Anzati favoured the Path of the Assassin, which was why to the galaxy at large they were generally regarded as a race of that profession.

I was unsure as to which path I wished to follow, but from what little I'd managed to gather from the locals while Simvyl and I waited for the next Sanctum Trial, I found myself seeing use in the Path of the Assassin and the Path of the Hunter. Training to use the Force in subtle ways to slip past and engage targets, while not ideal to how I generally fought, would be a useful set of extra skills in my arsenal and could be of use if Dooku's hints of a plan to redistribute some of the treasures of the Jedi Temple developed into more duracrete plans.

A faint grunt of struggle drew my attention to my right. There I saw Simvyl resting in the same position as me, though it was clear he was fighting to maintain it. When we had first entered the Hall of Testing, assuming the position we were in was easy, yet as the hours stretched, and the sun slowly set somewhere outside, many of those in the room began to fall from their position, be collected by one of the Attendants monitoring us, and sent home.

One hundred had entered the Hall yesterday afternoon – I was sure a new day was upon us as I could see the sun rising outside – but now only twelve remained. Simvyl and I were the only non-Anzati remaining, as the other off-worlders – about ten – had failed during the night. It was clear that Simvyl was struggling but I could feel him drawing upon what little connection he had with the Force to strengthen himself. That was a sign the teaching of the Matukai had taken hold with him, and a clear indicator of his improvement over the last two years.

The challenge that lay before him, was to remain as he was as we waited for the Trial to end. I had no such issues, the Force granting me the strength to easily endure this trial, but I hoped that when it was time to become Initiates, Simvyl was still with us.

… …
As the sun rose high above the hall, increasing the temperature inside, I looked around. We were down to seven remaining, and impressively one of those was Simvyl. He had been struggling all morning, sweat flowing freely down his brow, but I was proud of my friend for not giving up. I was uncertain of how long we had been here, but I felt we were slowly approaching a full day in the Hall.

There was an unpleasant odour in the Hall, the result of two who failed during the morning losing control of their bodily functions. They had been escorted from here by the Attendants, embarrassment at their public humiliation evident on their faces, but no effort was made by the Attendants to clean up the messes left, nor nullify the smells. It hadn't taken me long to realise they, or more like the Guardians, left the issues to further test those of us who remained. In their place, I might not do the same, but I could see the use of taking advantage of the unexpected opportunity.

The doors at the front of the Hall slid back, drawing everyone's attention. We watched cautiously as Grand Guardian Frauq stepped into the Hall. He looked at all of us in turn, his eyes lingering on me more than any of the others. "Be at ease. The Trial has ended. You have proven your worth as potential Initiates." He paused there waiting for us to shift from the positions we had been in.

None of us moved at first, either fearful or curious that this was some form of final test. The Grand Guardian chuckled at our reaction. "I assure you this is no trick, no test or challenge you must face." He clapped his hands and the Attendants around the edges of the Hall stood. Most moved away though four came into the centre, moving to clear up the issues left by those who'd failed embarrassingly.

Seeing that, everyone shifted. I could tell they were all tired – their hands rubbing their calves to regain feeling in them – but I had no such issues. Even if I didn't have the Force to ease my burden, Player's Body ensured, even as altered as it now was from when I'd first been reborn in this galaxy, that such physical issues were heavily minimised.

I moved around and sat cross-legged, waiting for the others to recover and the Grand Guardian to continue. "Each of you has proven your dedication to taking your first steps on The Way," he said slowly, a faint outline of a smile creeping onto his lips. "In the coming hours, the Guardians of this Sanctum will speak to you in turn, seeking to know what your purpose here is, and thus determine which Path might be best suited for you. However, you will not begin any Path until you prove yourself worthy of being more than an Initiate. I warn you that for many it can take years, even decades, to gain such skill. Many depart this Sanctum never reaching the next destination on their voyage along The Way, though I have hopes that some of you here today," again his eyes focused on me, "will impress myself and my fellow Guardians."

The Grand Guardian stood at that and nodded. At that signal, the Attendants that had departed returned, bringing with them trays. My nose perked up as I caught the faint, but growing stronger, hints of food. While I didn't need the same sustenance as others – due to the Force and Player's Body – hunger was still an issue I faced.

Two of the Attendants – both females who offered me demure but hungry smiles – placed their trays at my feet. Lifting the lid from the bowls I saw one brought what appeared to be rice and vegetables, the other a hot broth with a strong and very distinct scent.

I offered the Attendants a nod of thanks and then reached down for a spoon, curious as to how the broth tasted, and then later, how the discussions with the Guardians would go. I had not hidden my status as a Force user from the Anzati when I arrived in the system, though they, like many, had simply assumed that meant I was a Jedi. That was true enough, but it did amuse me how that was always the first-choice others made and when the time came to leave the Order, it was something I could exploit if I so wished.

… …

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I moved through the paths of the Sanctum, about half a month into my training here. So far that had revolved around simple training focusing on ensuring that I, Simvyl, and the six others with us knew how to move silently around a location. The Guardians also taught us, or in some cases re-educated us, on how to move through the shadows, mindful of any – be they organic or mechanical – that might be seeking to find us.

After the meal following the First Trial, I had spoken with three Guardians about my intentions. They were impressed to see another Jedi coming to them to learn – it was uncommon but did happen on occasion – and they explained to me the purpose of training with the Anzati.

At this sanctum as an Initiate, I would work on drawing on the Force in subtle, almost untraceable ways. The intent was never to overwhelm a target, but to distract, disorientate, and dissuade them while moving toward whatever target one who follows The Way had.

Already that training had begun on nullifying the sound we generated as we moved. With my immersive Force connection, doing so was easy, but I was working hard on making such actions something I could do with the slightest effort. I wanted it to become as second nature to me as breathing; something that would always be used even when I had little or no use for it. The Guardians that were teaching us had decent potential with the Force, or at the very least their skill was such that they could sense if I drew too heavily upon it, helping to guide me to the point of manipulation of the Force that I desired. I wasn't there yet, but I knew I was close.

In the coming weeks, the Guardians would advance the training, teaching us how to mask our scent to further improve our ability to move about without detection. Once that was mastered, and I intended to do so as quickly as I could, then the training – the final section of that for an Initiate – would be using the Force to brush against the minds of others and guide their attention and thoughts in ways that allowed one following The Way to move past them unseen.

Everything about how that trick was applied sounded similar to Force Persuasion, the gentler form of the common mind trick the Jedi used that Master Fay preferred. Thinking about that had me wondering how Fay's task was going. It had been around three years since she left with Satele Shan's holocron to locate Tython, I knew she still lived as I could sense my former Master through the Force, but beyond that, I remained unaware of her progress.

I hoped she was successful as the more she could bleed off Jedi unwilling to fight in the coming war, or even better who wished nothing to do with the Republic at large, the fewer obstacles I would face in the future. Yes, such an action would also help the Banite Sith, but for now, my goals aligned slightly with theirs, so actions that could benefit us both were acceptable.

I would normally have spoken with Adas in my quarters aboard Raven about the training the Anzati had placed me through so far, however, there had yet to be an ideal time to do so. Since being accepted as an Initiate, I had been sequestered in the Sanctum, sharing a room with Simvyl. I trusted he would not question the holocron, nor speak of it to another, but I could not be sure if there were any listening and watching us while we rested.

Access to my ship, and more importantly Anakin, was why I was moving through the Sanctum today, heading for a meeting with the Guardians. Even if they granted my request, I would not be using the ancient Sith holocron. Adas likely had already sensed Anakin around me, but I would not speak with the long-dead Sith Lord with Anakin anywhere nearby and risk the Sith trying to corrupt and manipulate my son. When he was older, ready for what I had learnt from Adas, then if he so desired, I would teach Anakin what I had learnt, but access to the holocron would never be his. That path carried too great a risk to even consider.

Anakin would not become Darth Vader, and join the Banite Sith, but I understood now, after over a year and a half of interacting with the Force normally that, just as with myself, the darkness that gave birth to Vader was within Anakin. The challenge I would be facing in the next decade was teaching Anakin how to accept that darker part of himself, that part that was always there, and not allow it to take control of him, and drive him down a path of rage and anger from which he would be lost to the Dark Side, possibly forever.

As I passed a pond in the Sanctum, fish of some form swimming freely within it, my mind rolled back to my early days as an Initiate and my ideas about Balance, about how one should be able to draw on both sides of the Force by channelling the correct emotions. I understood now that those ideas were, to be gentle, impossible.

The ways in which one used the Force, what most termed the Dark Side and the Light Side, were almost discordant. The base ideologies of those two Orders were simply irreconcilable. You could have a Jedi that was more aggressive and drew on their impulses to make decisions (which I was sure many would feel was a good description for me), but they ran the risk of getting lost in their needs and placing personal desires over any sense of what was good for others. Or you might find a Sith that would try to not place their selfish needs ahead of things that might help the greater good. However, in each case, the sentient ran a high chance of slipping and shifting to the other side of the Force. Trying to be both Sith and Jedi, both Light and Dark, would only lead to one's mind shattering as it tried to reconcile the two paths.

Interestingly, this was, at least according to what I could discover in the Jedi and Celebratus Archives, what had happened to Revan. Hundreds of years after defeating Malak, and falling in love with Bastila, he had left her and ventured into the galaxy seeking out a threat. That threat had emerged centuries later as the Sith Empire fought a decade-long war against the Republic and the Jedi.

Yet it was after the rise of something called the Eternal Empire – the Celebratus archives had little on the exact details, and what I'd seen on the matter in the Jedi Temple had been highly restricted even as a Knight – Revan had somehow returned. Reading between the lines, he did this to stop a Sith Emperor who may also have controlled the Eternal Empire, and in doing so split his soul. The Light and the Dark within him were unable to reconcile their need to defeat this Sith Emperor with how they would do so.

In the end, Revan had been stopped from whatever insane idea his Dark Side had produced, but if his soul had split, then how had I spoken with him in the Crystal Cave on Ilum all those years ago, and what the fuck had happened back then?

I shook my head, pushing those thoughts aside. Every time I spent more than a few minutes trying to determine what had happened, I ended up with a migraine that would shatter duracrete and drive my mind close to shutting down. Perhaps one day, if he ever reappeared, I could ask my ancestor about how he could become one with the Force when his soul had severed itself, but given I'd yet to see him in the decade since that meeting, I wasn't holding out much hope of that happening. Nor of my completing the quest he gave me.

As I neared the Guardian's Quarters, I pushed thoughts about Revan and the Force away. There were two guards outside the building, each holding impressive-looking pikes that I had confirmed via Observe were coated in phrik and cortosis. Their armour was blaster-resistant to a degree and an interesting mix of practical and ceremonial. I wasn't sure where they gained the phrik and cortosis for their weapons, but I knew this was not the only Sanctum that would have such weapons, suggesting an impressive supply was available to the Anzati government.

Seeing the guards my mind turns back to the first afternoon as an Initiate. Two of the more senior members of the Path of the Hunter provided us with a demonstration of their capabilities. They moved with impressive speeds – not on-par with what either I or Anakin could, but beyond what most without a strong connection to the Force could manage – striking and avoiding each other with fluidity and grace. Simvyl struggled to follow the fight, but I had no such issues and found myself mesmerised by the deadly dance the two Hunters engaged in.

Afterwards, the Grand Guardian had spoken to me, impressed that I had tracked the movements of the Hunters so easily. He spoke of the last Jedi to train here, which had been Master Tholme who I knew in passing, and how it was always illuminating to have one of the Order train with their Assassins, Trackers, and Hunters. What the Great Grandmaster was surprised by was learning that I was a Jedi Knight. It seemed he had believed me a Padawan sent by my Master to study with them, and not a fully-fledged warrior of the Order.

"Why are you here Initiate?" one of the guards asks as I come closer. "The dormitories and training facilities are over there." He uses his pike to gesture in the direction of where those places are.

I bowed, showing respect for them, and acknowledging that they outranked me. "I have come to speak with the Grand Guardian. He is aware of my request and bids me to arrive at this time."

The guards looked at each other and then at me. It was early evening, less than an hour after dinner, and one of the few moments when Initiates were not in lectures, training, or spars. That I would use that small amount of free time when the Guardians were not pushing us to our limits, to seek out the Grand Guardian was unexpected.

One of the guards lifted his arm and accessed a small computer interface on his vambrace. As he did, I watched the sun slowly setting to my right. Anzat had a twenty-eight-hour day, and our training took up much of that time. Nearly twenty-two hours in total, with only four hours allowed during the night to rest. It didn't take a genius to understand the Guardians were pushing us past our limit, forcing us to keep going even when barely able to. Unlike the others, however, I had the advantages of being a Jedi, Player's Body, and a Meditation skill that was maxed. With those working in concert, I could negate any weariness my body and mind experienced.

It was because of that, and not being able to train Anakin while inside the Sanctum, that I was here to speak with the Grand Guardian. I hoped that even if just a few times each month, I might be allowed to return to Raven to monitor Anakin and test his progress.

"The Grand Guardian is expecting you." The guard said after something flashed on his vambrace. "You may enter and will be escorted to him. Do not attempt to deviate from your path, or escape the notice of your guide."

I bowed again, accepting the orders, and ignoring the tone the guard used. He was just doing his job and not, I felt, targeting me because I was an off-worlder. I entered the building, my mind already devising altered training patterns for Anakin if my request was granted, and the extent to which HK could go to ensure Anakin followed my plans.

And perhaps, while I was there, I might see how my son was coming along with his two projects.

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I slipped forward, moving from the wall I'd just scaled toward a row of bushes five metres further in. My steps were silent, the Force working in an almost inconceivably small way to dull the sound of my steps so that even I failed to hear myself as I moved. I was also using it to mask any scent I might produce. I could feel the Force swirling around me, subtly asking me to use it, offering its services, wanting me to rend every threat in the compound I'd just entered to pieces. I refused to do so. This challenge I faced was based on my skills and subtle usage of the Force, not overwhelming power. Failure to complete it sufficiently would deny me the chance to advance beyond Initiate, and prevent me from learning some of the greater skills those who followed The Way had.

Two months had passed since I, Simvyl and five others had been accepted as Initiates, and while Simvyl was doing well in his training, thanks to my ability to draw on far more reserves of the Force, and years of combat training before being reborn, I had advanced faster than him or anyone in our intake. This exercise, to infiltrate a compound, locate the target terminal, and then exfil without being detected was my Test of the Initiate; a chance to show that I was ready to learn more, and I was not going to fail it.

The major difference between this exercise compared to the various training drills we had been put through by the Guardians over the last two months was that this was a live-fire exercise. If the guards found me, they would shoot. The only small upside was that their blasters wouldn't be set to kill, just a form of stunning that induced great pain.

To prepare me for what might happen, one of the Guardians had shot me with a blaster with that setting. Even knowing it was coming and preparing for it, I had been driven to my knees. My senses had struggled to remain active as every nerve ending in my body felt as if it was on fire. At that moment, the Force came to my call, and only the barest thread of control and the knowledge that this was something I had accepted as needing to happen prevented me from lashing out. From using the Force to eviscerate the Guardian who had dared induce the pain I had felt.

I was relieved that I had been able to control my rage during that demonstration and knew that if I'd come to Anzat not long after taking Natural Selection, I'd have never been able to contain my rage. Sithspit, even before Naboo I wasn't sure if I'd have had the control – at least without Player's Mind – to not lash out at those who'd dared to hurt me.

I stayed still in the bushes I was in, looking around the compound. The Guardians had made clear that beyond the three objectives of infiltrate, locate the target, and exfil without detection, I was free to use all the skills and weaponry at my disposal. I had chosen to not bring my lightsaber, as this was – even if I was to be shot at – just a training exercise. The use of the lightsaber would make it far too easy to maim and kill any who got in my way and certainly cost me any hint of anonymity.

Instead, I had a simple blade along with a holdout blaster at my hips, and the tools located in my mechanical limb. The Guardians, while aware that I had the replacement, and understanding and accepting of it, remained blissfully unknowing of the extras the limb possessed. Ideally, that would remain the case even after this exercise, but if not, the myriad of tools I had at my disposal would ensure that I could escape without detection regardless of whether I found the required terminal or not.

I went still as the sound of movement reached my ears; the Force boosting my senses to make it easier to know what was happening around me. Staying low in the bush, I waited for the guard – there should not be anyone here but guards – to approach while examining the map of the compound that I had overlaid on my minimap. I was still several metres, and at least two paths, from coming into sight of the central building that contained the terminal I was to access. Yet as I stayed there, listening as the guard grew ever closer to my location, I felt something was wrong.

The guard was unaware of me, I was sure of that. Yet within the Force, there was a distant echo. As if something was happening elsewhere. Not on Anzat but off-world. The faint sight of blue flashed through my mind before I drew my focus back to my location.

The steps grew closer, and the crunching of gravel louder, as the guard walked along the path. I stayed still, trusting my cover, the skills I had learnt, and the gentle applications of the Force I was using to keep me hidden. The rules of the exercise said the guards wouldn't have anything like night-vision goggles or scopes, but I wouldn't put it past the Guardians to change those rules without telling me. I stayed low, using the bushes to mask my presence and waited for the guard to draw ever closer.

I listened carefully, tracking the sounds of his movement, and comparing them to the compound's layout on my minimap. As the sounds of his footsteps moved away, heading along the path, I stayed still. The routes and timings of the guards weren't given in the briefing so I had no certainty as to when or if the guard would turn and come back.

Once the steps became quieter, and the minimap confirmed he had moved around a bend, I slipped forward, sliding under the bush so that I could see the path. There was no moon in the night's sky, but using the Force to enhance my sight I saw the faint shifted sections of gravel where the guard had stepped. Pushing myself up to a kneeling position, I noted the marks in the gravel and the next row of vegetation.

Those bushes weren't as tall or dense as the one I'd just moved under, meaning it would be harder to avoid detection once in them. I looked both ways, searching for a better route. However, two trees, each about three metres from me on each side marked the end of the bush: the ground beyond them being open and exposed.

The bush across from me was my best path. At least unless I wished to sneak around the walls of the compound seeking another route toward the central building that contained my target. I felt that path carried more danger. The guards would be more alert to shifting shadows and unexpected sounds the closer they were to the walls. Deeper in the compound, the odds were higher that they might be less alert to a threat, thinking those further out would find a danger before it moved inward.

I moved over the path, placing my feet gently into the indentations the guard had made, and reached the other bush. My steps were muffled by the Force dampening any sound I made, but I still moved slowly, not wanting to risk a sudden mistake that might expose my position.

Sliding low, I slipped under the bush and crawled forward. Yet before I was fully under the cover of the bushes, I heard the sound of shifting footsteps on the gravel. The guard had turned and was coming back. Not wanting to be found, I pulled myself as much as I could under the low bush. Then, as the sounds of the footsteps grew ever closer, I called the Force to me, bending it around myself as a sort of second skin in a way the Guardians called the Unseen Façade that they had been teaching me over the last few months.

The Force would distort my appearance, in theory making it difficult for any to be able to focus upon me. In well-lit locations, that would make it harder for others to shoot at or attack me, and in the darkness of the night, as it was now, it would allow me to remain unseen even if someone were almost on top of me. In time, I would be expected to use this new power to hide from the detection of droids and mechanical sensors, but I'd yet to begin such training as that was considered an Apprentice-level skill. Provided I passed this exercise, then I should move to that rank and begin more advanced training. That said, I could already see how it would in theory work, and with two droids at my disposal if I couldn't learn it before my time on Anzat was over, I'd be able to learn it for myself.

As I lay there, unmoving and waiting for the guard to pass by, my thoughts drifted for a moment to the Jedi Shadows. Master Giiett had suggested on occasion that I would be well suited to serving with that subset of the Order. However, while I was skilled at subterfuge and able to think outside the box, I had grown to prefer being in the heat of battle instead of slipping around the edges of it to cause damage others wouldn't notice until it was too late.

The training that Giiett had provided me with when trying to convince me to join the Shadows – at least before his death – bore similarities to much of what the Anzati Guardian taught and wondered if the other Jedi who'd' come here – such as Master Tholme – had been Shadows themselves.

I refocused as the guard came to a stop almost on top of me. I remained still, waiting for him to move yet preparing to strike. Darts in my arm would render him unconscious in an instant if he spotted me, however, such a move would place a severe time restraint on the exercise. Either the guard would wake up in four or five hours and remember what had happened, or another would find him; either by walking along this same path, or by him missing a check-in.

Time seemed to slow as I readied myself on the chance I was detected. My heart rate remained steady even as I felt my body and the Force wait for my signal to strike. The idea to cast a false sound elsewhere in the compound came to mind. It was not a trick the Guardians had suggested, but one Fay had taught me years before. I'd never needed that power before, nor had it registered as a Force Power back when the Interface tracked such things, but it was an option if the guard lingered for too long.

Thankfully for me, the guard resumed moving, heading back in the direction I'd first seen him coming from. I stayed still listening intently to the sound of his steps, as the gravel crunching under his feet grew ever quieter. Once he was far enough away, I shifted, moving through the bushes toward the centre of the compound.

Once out from the bushes, I looked around. Ahead of me was a flower bed. There was no way I could move through it without damaging some of them, which risked giving away my presence. I could move around it, but either side offered no cover on the small expanse of grass before. That, however, was acceptable for now as my location granted me a clear line of sight of the central building in the compound, and where on the top floor the terminal I was expected to access was located.

At five floors tall, the building was a good ten metres above anything else in the compound, which made it easy to use as a point of reference. However, the downside was that scaling the outside of the building would be troublesome as I'd be visible to anyone who looked at it from the side I climbed up.

The terminal on the fifth floor was special in that it was air-gapped to the networks running in the compound, and supposedly the only one used for accessing several highly classified files that I needed to duplicate. The problem was always going to be gaining access to that terminal, and as my eyes scanned the base of the building, the difficulty increased exponentially.

The only visible entrance – I could make out two sides clear and catch hints of the third – lay before a large open expanse of gravel. An area of around ten square metres in size. Two guards stood at their posts on either side of the door, and as I watched, I saw at least four guards moving around near the sides I could see.

I could get past those guards, or at least I thought I could. However, doing so would either take too much effort to do so without alerting them or if I took them out, draw the attention of the other guards before I had completed my assignment.

My eyes searched the building, spotting windows on each of the floors between the ground and the fifth floor. However, as I looked closer – the Force granting me impressive depth of vision – I noted that all were locked from the inside. To make matters worse, along the edges of the building, shaped in ways to hide their presence with the architecture, I saw what I assumed to be sensors and cameras.

That removed the idea of taking out the guards, as I'd be seen by others before I was close enough to take the two guards down quietly. Oddly, I smiled as I understood the cameras were an extra layer of security, one not mentioned by the briefing before the exercise that was designed to catch out any who chose to rush the building in a desire to reach the terminal.

My gaze moved to the building's roof. From what I could see from my vantage point, it appeared flat. In theory, there would be some way to enter the room I wanted from there, however, getting to the roof would be a challenge. The sky might be black due to the missing moon, but using the Force to leap onto the roof would make it highly likely I would be spotted, if not heard as I landed.

My gaze shifted around, seeking a way to reach the roof of the central building without being seen by guards or cameras. There were a few smaller buildings nearby, though none within easy jumping distance. Some were close enough that I felt I could make the leap with the Force boosting me, and ensure that no one saw or heard my actions. Yet, as my eyes focused on one building in the corner of the compound, out of the way and seemingly unimportant, the Force subtly shifted.

That drew my attention, and I examined the building as best I could from my location. There was nothing seemingly important about it, and it lay far from my target, with only a single guard patrolling nearby, yet the Force was implying that this building might be of use. Curious about why that was, and knowing I had until the first light of the morning – about six and a half hours from now – stretched over the compound to complete my assignment, I decided to investigate.

At the very least being able to watch the target building from another angle might offer a way into the target. And at best… there might be a way to complete the challenge without needing to risk discovery.

… …
"Why were you drawn to the building you ended up entering?"

The question had come from one of the three Guardians that I was standing before. It was a few hours after the exercise had ended, and it was confirmed that while I hadn't accessed the terminal in the main building, I had completed it successfully.

"A feeling," I replied, thinking back to the small building the Force had guided me to. As I drew closer I discovered several instances of hidden security around the building, which only served to further my curiosity. "The Force hinted to me that there was more to the building than met the eye," I added as the Guardians looked at me. "Unlike the other buildings in the compound, bar the primary target, this one had more security than one would expect. Because of that, I decided to trust the Force and investigate further."

As it turned out, the building the Force guided me to had a terminal in it as well, one that connected to the supposedly air-gapped one on the top floor of the building I was meant to infiltrate. I had copied the files from the new terminal and then slipped from the compound without being spotted by any guard or sensor.

"You abandoned your orders?"

"My orders were to access the terminal in the main building and copy the files on the secured terminal. Whether I could or could not complete that, I was expected to leave the compound before sunrise without being stopped, or ideally detected. The target building with the terminal was too heavily guarded for there to be much chance that I could gain entry without being detected. Deciding that remaining unseen and learning as much as I could about the compound that night, so if allowed I could return the next, was the prudent course of action."

The three Guardians turn to each other. I could see their lips move, yet was unable to hear what they were saying as they discussed my actions. Soon, they turned back to me.

"The exercise is deemed a success," one of the Guardians stated, drawing a small smile from me. "Few Initiates ever consider accessing the secondary buildings, and fewer still locate the secondary terminal. Interestingly, you are the tenth Jedi to train at this Sanctum in my time as a Guardian," which, from what I knew of how long an Anzati could live, could be centuries if not millennia, "and all have located the secondary terminal. However, only five including yourself accessed said terminal."

"Because of your performance, we deem you to be ready to take your next step in harnessing The Way. Well done Apprentice." I bowed in thanks for the promotion. "We should state that an increase in rank brings with it a more gruelling training schedule. We are aware the Grand Guardian has permitted you to depart the Sanctum one night a week to train your Padawan. However, with your new training schedule, you shall only be granted two evenings of rest each week. You might also be sent to another Sanctum for additional training if we felt it would benefit your journey in harnessing The Way to do so."

I frowned at hearing that. While the increased training would help with the quest I had linked to my time here – which was focused on the skills of Stealth, Sleight of Hand, Lockpicking, and Perception, it would mean my time with Anakin might be curtailed.

"An Apprentice of the Way is pushed to the very limits of their physical abilities," the third Guardian said, "pushing you past the limits of your species and testing just how long you can rely on the Force for support. We understand that this might interfere with the training of your Padawan, and as such grant you a choice which needs to be made by the end of the day. Either you accept Apprentice training, and all that entails, or your time with us will see you remain as an Initiate; barely being pushed to improve yourself or harness The Way."

I bowed in thanks for the time to consider the matter and stayed there until the trio had left the room. Once they did I stood up and sighed. Anakin disliked only seeing me once a week as was, and while I should be able to keep seeing him as an Apprentice, I feared that I would not be able to do much training, or even supervise much of his training if I became as worn out and ragged as the Guardians were suggesting.

I left the room, and knowing I was under the clock sought out a quiet corner to meditate on my choice.

… …

​

---

​

… …
As I neared the ramp to enter Raven, I suppressed a yawn. The training I was undergoing now as an Apprentice of The Way was more tiring and strenuous than the Guardians had hinted at. Two nights of rest a week, at no more than four hours at a time, was stretching me to my limits, and with me needing to keep returning to my ship to speak with Anakin, even with the Force to help me it was starting to place a strain on my nerves.

I knew Anakin would sense my tiredness, but the more I could hide it, the less he would worry about me. I knew I was pushing myself heavily, running myself ragged with training with the Guardians and continuing to train Anakin, but I could handle it.

To help slightly with that, Simvyl came back to Raven once a week now, training Anakin in unarmed combat and other things so that I could focus on fewer matters when I was here. I was glad for that as while the training with the Guardian was intense, it felt extremely beneficial.

Learning ways to slip the Force around me to gently guide others to either ignore me or consider me less of a threat were tricks that would be extremely useful going forward. Haran, I would've killed to have such skills in my former life. Yes, it would've seen me shift from being a front-line operator to becoming a spook, but what one was capable of with the Force if one looked beyond the narrow ideals of the Jedi was mind-blowingly scary.

As I reached the ramp, I sensed an onrushing presence and looking up I saw the large black mask of my tuk'ata bounding toward me. "Fenrir!" I called out as he rushed me. I ducked and slid to one side, letting him sail through the air before turning to face him. "Down!" I snarled, some of my anger slipping into the Force with the word.

Fenrir stopped and his head dropped slightly, as if understanding he'd angered his pack leader. I sighed at the face he made; somehow even though he was almost as tall as me – and considerably bulkier and stronger – he still managed to pull off the sad puppy face that I'd have thought he would've grown out of by now. "It's okay," I said softly, holding out a hand to gesture him closer. "I'm just tired."

His head perked up at that and he moved closer, pushing one side of his face into my hand. I chuckled at the display and scratched him under his ear. "How have you been, boy?"

He whined softly and leaned into my touch as I once more felt the gentle shifting in the Force whenever I returned to Raven. At first, I'd thought it was simply the force feeling that I was home, yet the longer my training on Anzat had gone on, the greater the sensation had grown, and I was now certain it was the Force slowly letting me know that my time on the planet and training with the Guardians was drawing to a close.

I was a few weeks short of my nineteenth birthday, with the anniversary of the invasion of Naboo a few months further down the line. It was slowly getting to the point where I'd have to stop my various training voyages and begin preparing for what was to come, but I felt I still had time for one more trip, though I was uncertain as to which Force sect or warrior culture to visit next.

An excited ball of energy surged in the Force, and I turned back to the ramp to see Anakin bounding down it. "CAM!" He called out excitedly, and as I knelt– without taking my hand from just under Fenrir's ear – waited for him.

He ran into my arm, and I held him tight as his arms closed around my neck. "An'ika," I said with a smile at the warm reaction to my return. I patted his back as he held me tightly, almost as if scared I might not be real. "I'm here, don't worry."

"I know," He said, his head half-buried in my shoulder, "I'm just happy you're back." He loosened his grasp about half a minute later and pulled back so he could look me in the eyes. "Are you finished here?" He asked the same question he asked every time I returned to Raven to check up on him.

I knew he was doing well as HK and R2 sent regular updates to me, and from the sound of things, Anakin was obeying the training and studying regiment I'd created for him well, or at least HK hadn't suggested a need to discipline Anakin to me, nor had Anakin complained about HK's strictness. At least not since the end of the first month of the schedule.

"No, I still have some time to go," I replied, causing some of his energy to fade away, "but not long. Perhaps a month or so." That had the enthusiasm return slightly. "Now, how have your projects been going?" I asked.

His face lit up as I'd expected and he turned, moving toward Raven, one hand trying to drag me with him. "Great!" He said with the bounce back in his step. "Come on."

I chuckled as I allowed him to drag me up the ramp and into Raven. Fenrir moaned, unhappy at my hand slipping from his fur but followed along in the hope of more attention. As we reached the top of the ramp, I stopped, making Anakin turn to me. "Go and get your pads and I'll meet you in the main hold," I said.

He nodded so fast I feared he'd hurt his neck before bounding away a touch too quickly to be entirely normal. Such frivolous use of the Force wasn't something a Jedi would normally tolerate. However, I was far from being a normal Jedi, and as he was excited, and as it was a sign he was becoming more comfortable with drawing on his power in his everyday life, I saw little harm in allowing such behaviour to continue.

I moved forward, heading toward the central area, knowing he'd have the pads and schematics ready for me by the time I got there. I'd not asked about either project – the one for a starfighter and the one for a droid – in about a month, so it would be interesting to see how far he'd advanced his concepts.

At my side I heard Fenrir grunt, hinting at his amusement at my son's behaviour. It might've been less than two years since Shmi had died and I'd adopted Anakin into Clan Shan, but Anakin now considered me, Fenrir, Raven, and even the droids as family. That was a sentiment I shared wholeheartedly.

"Hey R2," I said as I saw the astromech rolling through a corridor, "been keeping out of trouble?" The droid beeped loudly at my comment, making me laugh. "Yeah, I know there's nowhere to get into trouble here, but I don't think that would stop you or HK if the chance arose." He beeped again and his head rotated around. "I know, I know. You're the responsible one out of the four of you, but that's not a high bar to clear." He whistled in irritation before turning and rolling away, deciding he didn't like the conversation.

I shook my head as I chuckled at his behaviour. I was being truthful in saying that of the four who stayed on Raven, he was the most responsible, but again when the other three were an assassin droid that wanted at times to wipe all meatbags, a creature bred to hunt and kill, and an almost hyperactive young boy with incredible potential at his fingertips, being the responsible one wasn't a hard position to take.

I knew I was not counting Raven in that grouping, but if the chance arose to do some acrobatic if not downright dangerous flying, she would. It was just that with us stuck on Anzat for such a long time, she had no chance to push to do something unwise. Though as my hand ran over her hull, generating a symphony of happy light from her, I knew she would the moment we left the planet.

As I reached the central area, which served as the meal hall, and general relaxation room, I saw Anakin at the central table. A dozen datapads were strewn on the table, though two in particular held places of importance before my son. "I see you're ready," I commented with a wide smile as I walked closer. "HK," I added as I spotted the assassin droid standing nearby, guarding the short corridor that led to the cockpit.

"Greeting: It is good to see you, Master. Query: When might we leave this pitiful excuse for a world, or at the very least, seek out meatbags so that I might test my latest calibrations?"

"We'll be leaving in a month or so," I replied, ignoring the suggestion that he wanted to go on a murder spree. He said that often but had yet to do so; at least without asking me first, which I always shut down. "Simvyl's coming along in his training and I'm not sure there's much else new that I can learn from the Anzati without committing to being here far longer than I'm comfortable with."

Simvyl was doing well in his Initiate grouping, standing third of seven. He wasn't overly happy about his placement, seeing it as a failure on his part, Yet I knew it was impressive. The others were all Anzati who had over a hundred years of experience on him – one was just north of two hundred according to Observe – so for him to be ahead of any of them, even considering he wasn't a raw recruit, was a worthy achievement. Before Naboo, he had been a good warrior, but now as we closed in on two years since then, and with training with the Matukai and Echani to draw upon, he was a far more dangerous fighter for any who stood against him.

My training was now handled alone, as I was too far behind any Apprentice grouping at the Sanctum to join them, but too advanced to remain with the Initiate grouping. The training was tiring, and draining, but I would manage it. I wouldn't allow it to break me. I knew that both Adas and Dooku might likely feel I could do better, or improve further faster, but I was content with my current level of exertion, as going any further might harm my ability to spend these evenings with Anakin.

Anakin struggles to remain still as I approach, and as I slide in beside him, he thrusts a datapad – one of the two directly before him – into my hands. Activating the pad, I let out a low, impressed whistle.

The image before me was of a fighter never seen before in this galaxy. The lineage of the Z-95 in it was clear to see, as were – rather amusingly – hints of the X-Wing. I'd not offered Anakin any hint of that vessel during his time working on this project, but even with just this basic rotating image of a starfighter, I could see how this vessel and the one made famous in the other timeline, came from the same family of design. Just with different minds pushing their creation.

I slid the screen to the next page, taking in the dimensions and specifications of this fighter. Anakin's creation – which I noted he'd not yet named – was about fifteen metres long, twelve wide and four high with the landing gears deployed. The wings of the Z-95 were present, though they started further along the fuselage, not far behind where an astromech slot was located, and tapered to rounded edges in line with the engines. Each wing was in fact a pair of S-foils that opened in combat, just like the X-Wing. The tip of each of those four wings carried a laser cannon. The stats of those, and other weaponry were missing, suggesting Anakin wasn't sure of the exact power output or models of such things. Still, the presence of four cannons like that was amusing.

The image before me shifted, showing me the underside of the craft. Three hardpoints for extra weapons – be they bombs, missiles, or extra cannons – were on the bottom of each wing while in the centre of the fuselage is a section that, according to Anakin's suggestions, could be used for supplies if the fighter has to travel for a long time, or to carry extra munitions. The specifics of what would go on these hard points and into the internal bay would depend on the mission, but I could already imagine various layouts to suit different operations. The flexibility of this wasn't something I'd suggested to Anakin, yet it was a feature I highly approved of.

The fighter had a hyperdrive, which would drive up the cost but was a good idea. Anakin seemed to want a 1.0-rated drive, which would make this fighter extremely quick in reaching its destination. Once there, the four engines would grant it impressive acceleration and atmospheric top speed.

"Anakin," I said slowly, looking at him in awe at what he'd created. "This is incredible." Yes, the design needed refinement – the specifics of the powercore, engines and weapons weren't defined as he didn't have access to some of the data needed to punch in the numbers – but I knew that what he'd created was a solid, if not amazing, base from which to create a fighter to rival anything the galaxy had seen.

"There's more," He said with a large smile. I passed him the pad, expecting him to give me another. Instead, he touched a corner of the one I was holding, and the image of the fighter gave way to some rough specifications.

I blinked as I saw figures that I'd not expected. "How did you get this data?" I asked, knowing some of it wasn't anything I'd granted him access to.

He shrugged. "I used the Holonet to find the files," he said before mumbling something else.

"What?"

"I, um, I used some of your credits to purchase some files and contacted Raith," he explained looking down at the ground. "I needed details for the design, and you weren't here to ask."

I chuckled and reached out to rub his hair. "In future, if I'm not here, so long as you're not breaking any laws, assume it's fine to spend credits for projects such as this," I said. Yes, he had gone behind my back on the matter, but the results of it – the details here suggested how different components from various manufacturers could be added to the inner workings and how many would alter various systems – was an incredible leap beyond what I'd asked of him.

After he nods, I turn back to the datapad, scrolling the list of equipment that could be used for each section. It appeared that Anakin had decided to make the internals as modular as the externals. Different components would need small alterations to fit into the fighter, and each would alter the circuitry slightly, but there was good logic in this approach. "Why did you not settle on a single supplier for each component?"

"I remembered you talking about the danger of placing all our eggs in one basket," Anakin replied with a smile. "some of the parts won't work with others, but I'd programmed the pad to mark out the pieces when that happens."

"Well done." I looked back at the details and grinned. "I asked you to create a starfighter with a focus on superiority, and you went and made something that was much more adaptable."

His smile widened. "I… I was also thinking about how we could use the base design for other ships." He spoke slowly, as if unsure of himself. "I wanted the ship to have every weapon possible, but doing that caused big problems."

"That's one way to put it," I said with a grin.

"Yeah. So, I was thinking of this." He tapped the pad again and this time it displayed four new fighters. Each was similar to the first one but altered in ways – some subtle, some less so – that made certain each was unique while having a common foundation. The details of each ship weren't present, but each had a title hinting at their various roles.

"Anakin," I said slowly as I understood the concepts he was going for here. "This is amazing."

Using a base airframe to build variants built for specific things – bomber, rapid recon or deep-strike, interceptor, and missile-boat were the four names Anakin had given to the new designs – was a smart way to standardise production, and in theory, keep down costs. Now, the variants were missing the level of detail that the main fighter design had, but I could see ways that many of the components suggested for the starfighter could be used in the variants.

"There's more," Anakin said, changing the display on the pad to show two more fighters. Again, there were clean lines that suggested the commonality of them, yet these two were significantly different. The first was larger by about fifty per cent and had a cockpit designed for two pilots and a built-in astromech droid. It looked slower but had more armament – potentially enough to take out cruisers and other mid-sized starships – and the more I stared at it, the more it reminded me of the ARC-130 the GAR would use in the Clone Wars.

The second variant was more akin to a scout craft. It was large again but seemed to be designed for outright speed. Yet with the larger central hold, it would be able to deploy its cargo and depart before most others were aware of its presence.

These designs were not things I'd seen on my previous trips as I'd spent the majority of the time training him with his lightsaber forms and usage of the Force. Yet it seemed he'd been far from idle in my absence.

Some of the concepts he had created bore similarities to fighters, bombers, and interceptors I'd seen on the galactic market, but the specifics of such vessels were hard to be certain of. Yes, their creators listed their capabilities, but I couldn't be sure they weren't overselling their creations. Nor did I know what other advanced projects and designs they had in the pipeline. The Banite Sith would be working with various companies to develop and build the ships and equipment for the GAR so that when war came, the Republic could fight back and, as the war dragged on, the Jedi could be dragged around and taken out slowly until the Banite Sith were ready to strike and end the Republic and Jedi in a single day or so.

"Are you planning for a war?" I asked him after looking over the variants. While alone a fleet of starfighters to his designs wouldn't be enough to win a war, in theory, they'd be more than capable of turning the tide of just about any battle.

"No," Anakin replied with a giggle. "But you've made clear you think there's one coming inside our lifetimes," I grunted, remembering I had hinted in his presence about the coming Clone Wars, unaware that he'd taken that knowledge in and that I had influenced his thoughts and intentions. "Even if there's not if we can make a fleet of these, then Lia and the Lokella can be safe from future attacks."

"Ah," I said softly, understanding now coming to me. While he was concerned about the war I felt was coming, his focus was on protecting his family. He knew I, along with Fenrir, Simvyl, and the droids could look after ourselves, but that his younger half-sister currently couldn't. Given she had little potential for the Force, she'd never become what Anakin could, but I felt with the right – read Mando'ade – training, she could be as dangerous as someone like Bo or Naz.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to do everything you can to protect those you love, An'ika. But even if we do that, no matter what we do, even if we burn entire worlds in an attempt to save our loved ones, we have to accept that death is a natural part of the universe. Even the stars die. It is a law of the universe that cannot be overcome."

He looked up at me in shock, his eyes wide. "St…stars can die?" He asked, having seemingly considered it as possible.

"Yes, Anakin they do. That is how Black holes, and other such phenomena occur." I reach over and place a hand on his shoulder as I sense the cold, almost mind-numbing fear radiating from him and push the warmth of my presence to him through the Force. "I know it scares you. It scares me as well when I consider that one day you, Bo, Fenrir, and others might die. However, dwelling on that fear, letting it consume you in some false hope that you can alter things so no one you care for dies is a dark and dangerous path to walk down. One that, if you do so, will see you consumed by the Dark Side and become nothing but a puppet of whatever twisted desires it demands of you."

"I know," he whispered though I felt he didn't yet understand, "it's just…" his head dropped, and he looked down at his feet, kicking them aimlessly against each other. "I miss her, and I don't want to lose you."

I reached forward and pulled him into a hug. His arms closed eagerly around my waist as I held him tight. "I understand, Anakin," I said gently. "I miss my grandfather and don't want to lose you either. That's why all this training is needed."

I held him for a while, letting him draw strength from me and allowing him to gather his thoughts and calm his raging emotions. He might not have the issue I did with the Interface, and through it, Eidetic Memory making it impossible for me to let go of my emotions and fears, but I knew he dwelled on such thoughts heavily. So much so that, in the other timeline, Sidious had exploited that and his fears over his wife, to corrupt him into Darth Vader.

After what felt like a few minutes, I felt Anakin shift and let him slip from my grasp. His face was long, and while there were no tears, I could sense his unease. I smiled in understanding and moved my hands toward the datapad he'd given me. "I'm proud of you and your creations, An'ika," I said softly, drawing his thoughts away from his mother and his fears for the future, "in the time we've known each other, you've gotten stronger and stronger. Don't ever think otherwise, nor that I don't want you trying to protect those you love. You just need to learn that we cannot protect everyone all the time."

His eyes came up, and a faint smirk came to his lips. "Not even you?"

"Yes Anakin, even me," I said as I ruffled his hair. "I know I have, shall we say, a talent for getting into trouble," he giggled at that, "but when I do I need you to stop and think before you act. It might seem to draw trouble to me, but I have never failed to escape that trouble with my own skill and power. I'd rather find my way out of that trouble than have to worry about you running in to help, acting like a bantha in a crystal shop."

Anakin laughed happily at the analogy. "Says the man who jumps from starships to help those he cares for." My brow rose at him throwing that back at me. I'd never talked to him about my rush to help Serra after her verd'goten or to reach Bo and Naz during the Battle of Keldabe, but it seemed he was aware of at least one of them. "Bo and Naz told me about your adventures."

"Ah," I muttered in understanding. "Still, I do hope that you learn from my mistakes – and such reckless action, even if it worked out was reckless – and make your own choices." With hindsight, I can see how I could've approached those moments better, and still achieved my goals, but I knew well what the saying about hindsight was.

"I'll try."

I shook my head as I laughed at his non-committal answer and ruffled his hair once more. In moments like this, I felt sympathy for Obi-Wan when he'd had to raise and train Anakin in the other timeline. The issue was that I knew I was, at times, a bad role model. Just like Anakin, I was the sort of person to rush headlong into the fire to save those I cared about, and while that had worked out for me for the most part – the loss of my forearm notwithstanding – I knew I had to temper my instincts. If not for my sake, then for Anakin's and the others I cared for.

He was only eleven, but already my thoughts were starting to drift to two years in the future. At that point, he would be old enough for his verd'goten, and I couldn't deny a hint of fear at what that might entail. I knew I'd trained him well, and that he could look after himself, but I feared that he would – like myself before him – face a challenge for which he wasn't entirely ready. The hardest part was going to be not doing what I wanted and rushing to help, as that would see him fail the challenge, and possibly hate me for doing so.

"So," I said slowly, pushing thoughts of Anakin's future aside, "the base fighter, do you feel ready to consider making a prototype?" If he was, then I'd have to contact either Raith or Alor Dred Yomaget – more likely the latter – and see if they or someone they knew could help with the creation of a prototype. The sooner it was made, and the kinks worked out, the sooner production could begin, giving at least the Lokella access to his creations.

Anakin's eyes widened, and I sensed his surprise at me suggesting he move forward with the project. "I… um… I mean, maybe. In a few months. I guess." He paused and rubbed the back of his head. "It's just… the parts I want to use, they're not cheap."

"How much?" I asked, not caring greatly about the cost, as beyond my wealth, I had access to the Jedi's funds. The idea of having them pay for the creation of a fighter that would, in all likelihood, be used against them, was amusing enough that I could see myself doing that.

"At least a million credits I guess. Both the parts and paying someone to build and test it for us."

"For you, An'ika," I countered, "this is your project, not mine." I saw his mouth open, probably to argue, and I held my hand up to stop him. "The idea of you creating a starfighter was one I gave you," I said slowly, wanting to explain my logic. "I did so because you have a talent for technology that I don't, which I'm fine with by the way. I wanted this project, and the one for a droid, to push your skills. I never intended for you to take it so far, so my influence over this project is over. All I will do is back you, however much it takes, with the credits to build the prototype. Whatever becomes of it, from the name to how far this goes, is up to you, and you will have my full, unqualified support for whatever you decide."

It took a few moments for Anakin to accept my words, but when he had, he looked at me with a wide smile. "Okay." There was a long moment where he seemed to revel with pride at having control of the starfighter project before he blinked. "Oh, the droid…"

He turned and all but snatched the datapad with the details of the starfighter on it from my hand, before replacing it was the other pad that had a place of prominence of the dozen or so that were on the table around us. Normally I would warn him about such behaviour, but it was clear he was doing it at this moment because he was excited, and not as might normally be the case, angry or upset.

As I turned to the new datapad I was curious as to what he'd done with the droid project. If the starfighter designs were anything to go by, this should be an interesting one. Especially with HK and R2 offering more opinions for this than for the starfighter.

At first glance, the droid didn't appear too different from a well-modified 3P0-series protocol droid, but as I looked closer, and read some of the information on the first display, I whistled. "I know I just said it about the starfighter, but this is impressive, An'ika. I see you took in many of HK's ideas," I added as details of the hidden extras on the droid appeared on-screen.

The stomach no longer exposed internal wiring, and the odd brackets on the joints that seemed to limit the movement of such droids were gone. The entire thing was encased in metal with no obvious spots where it could be opened. A note on the page suggested using either beskar or phrik in the plating and I was not inclined to the former. Beskar was too rare to use on a droid, and the Mando'ade would never stand for such apparently frivolous use of the metal.

Elsewhere the deactivation switch on the back of the neck didn't shut down the droid. Anakin wanted an option in the programming so that the droid could either fake being shut down or ignore the button entirely, and I knew that had come from HK. The same was true of the various hidden extras that the droid had.

"Yeah," Anakin said with a broad smile, though a second later it slipped. "Um, this won't be cheap either," He added, which made me laugh.

"I believe I just told you that cost wasn't a problem with the starfighter. Why would that be different for the droid?" His face lit up again at that. "So, show me," I add.

Before arriving on Anzat, my publisher had contacted me. Fellowship of the Ring was doing far better than he and the production company had expected. At that time, I'd gained nearly forty billion credits from the holomovie, and by the end of the year, he suspected the figure would clear a hundred billion, if not close in on two hundred billion credits. That figure didn't include anything from the merchandising, but the projections there were impressive as well and I could be looking at double to tripling the movie figures.

Yet, for all my new-found wealth, I suspected I was still far from being even the richest Mando'ade, to say nothing of the wider galaxy. Still, using those credits for Anakin's projects was a better thing than simply letting them sit in various accounts gathering dust. I just hoped that whatever Anakin had added wasn't overly complicated as, based on my experience in this life and the last, things worked best if they were kept relatively simple.

… …

​

---

​

… …
I leaned back in the worn and tattered chair I found myself in this evening. I tapped the table in front of me, seemingly thinking about the cards I'd drawn in this round of sabacc, but in reality, my thoughts were elsewhere.

I was no longer on Anzat, the training had gone as far as I thought it could go without me committing time I knew I didn't have. Simvyl had, before we'd left, attempted a similar exercise to the one I had. While he hadn't succeeded as well as I had – as was expected of most Initiates – he had done decently and understood his mistakes. Indeed, he'd managed to slip from the compound without being detected, which was the minimum the Guardians had expected.

That had helped guide my decision to leave, and after saying our farewells, with a loose promise to return if the Force allowed, we'd departed the system. After speaking with Anakin about a new extra he wanted to add to his droid – something akin to a chameleon cloak that would allow it to project the appearance of being organic over its frame – I'd had to hunt for where to find such things, and then locate a seller. That hunt had brought me to my current locale; a bar in one of the less reputable sections of Worlport; the capital city of Ord Mantell.

To any who approached the world, they'd see a beautiful and modern world, a symbol of the Republic's influence in the Mid Rim. But that influence ran below the surface as Ord Mantell was just as superficial as Coruscant or any Core World. Step away from the brilliant Corellian-inspired architecture in the Government District, and one quickly finds corruption, decay, and decadence. All signs of the failings that Republic was known for to any who knew to look away from the blinding light of the glittering central buildings.

The contact that I needed to meet had insisted on gathering on Ord Mantell, and I'd already spoken with them about what I needed. They claimed they could get the various components I'd need for Anakin's droid, but it would take time as while not illegal some of the parts were restricted. They'd said it would take half a month to gather them at most, and after five days on Ord Mantell, I was regretting agreeing to wait here for them to get what I was purchasing.

The first few days had passed easily enough. Anakin, Simvyl, and I had explored Worlport; first as Jedi and then as travelling Mandalorians. The reason the switch had taken place was because I kept getting invited to the planetary governor's mansion, as apparently there was some issue they wanted my help with. Sensing that whatever the issue was, I'd not enjoy it, I'd rejected the offer and then seemingly left the planet in Raven.

We'd returned a day later, taking over a more remote landing port; one where the planetary security was much laxer and more open-minded. The guards there had been persuaded with a handful of credits to mis-register Raven as another vessel but to avoid being bothered by the governor's people, Anakin and I had started travelling as Mandos.

Simvyl had used the time on the planet to contact a few fellow Antarian Rangers, getting updates on issues throughout this slice of the galaxy's Mid and Outer Rim. Looking them over, there was no apparent pattern to the grievances and skirmishes between various worlds and groups, but knowing what I did of what was to come, it didn't take much to convince Simvyl that all of it was interconnected to the failings of the Republic.

With little to do but kill time, I'd ended up wandering the three gambling districts in Worlport. Not because I had any real interest in gambling, but more to see how those not sitting around the top table lived. The first district, Path of Coins, was aimed at the high rollers; those unconcerned about losing a few million credits here and there. I'd spent some time there gambling and testing out my social skills, but I'd grown tired of the place.

Port of Coins was meant to represent the best of Ord Mantell, yet even though the common terms weren't used, slavery, drug dealing, and other illegal activities took place there. What made it worse was the fact the local law enforcement made no effort to deal with the problem. I knew the reasons – corruption and the like – but it still angered me that they would allow something as illegal as slavery to exist so openly simply by changing the name and, I suspected, forcing the workers to sign contracts that while seemingly making things seem legal, were little better than indentured servitude.

After a few more days of exploring, I'd ended up in Herglic's Folly, travelling from one establishment to the next. This district lacked all but the most token of security forces, but even though this place was dirty, worn-down, and dangerous – three sentients had made the mistake of trying to rob me on the first night in the district – I found it more real. Yes, there was slavery, drug-dealing and illegal trades taking place here, and those I was sharing the sabacc table with all had bounties worth at least twenty-thousand credits on their head, but they were open and honest about their rule-breaking.

Oh, if I wanted to, I'd happily gun everyone at the table down, along with the majority of the casino I found myself in. They were scum of the lowest kind, but at least they were truthful about what they were and that, at least for the time being, was enough for me to grant them leniency. Well, that and the facts I had to kill time on the planet, that playing with such reprobates was a clever way to practice my social skills, and between the Force and Observe I never left a table with fewer credits than I sat down with.

"I see your bet and raise you." That came from a Zabrak named Farld. This sentient, and I used the time loosely, was a trafficker in people, and had bounties from various sectors, the highest of which was thirty-five thousand credits from Taris. "Five thousand," he said as he slid a pile of credits into the centre of the table.

I watched him with amusement, already aware that my hand beat his. It might've been cheating to use the Force and Observe in such ways but as everyone I was playing with was scum of the lowest sort, I didn't care. Force, if they caught me cheating, then it just gave me a reason to gun them all down here and now.

"I see and raise," I replied, pushing seven thousand credits into the pot. It was a small increase, but should tempt him into meeting and raising it, which was what I…

"Cameron!" The shouting of my name when I'd not given it to anyone had my attention. If I'd been wearing my helmet, the HUD could've told me who called out, but I wasn't wearing it as faces had to be exposed at the table. "Cameron Shan!"

Hearing my full name, I knew the male – the voice made that clear – knew who I was, and as I turned, my hand grasping my blaster, I felt a familiar if off sensation in the Force. "Quinlan?" I muttered in confusion when I saw my fellow Jedi Knight coming toward me, dressed nothing like a Jedi should be attired, though since I wasn't in Jedi garb either, I couldn't hold that against him.

As he moves closer I notice a Devaronian enter behind him, one that looks remarkably like a devil, however, my focus is on Quinlan. Beyond the dishevelled look, his Force presence is off, if not wrong. As if part of him was missing or gone. "What's wrong?" I ask as I remove my hand from my blaster, sensing the Force swirling erratically around the Kiffar.

"It's Aayla! She's missing!"

I blinked at hearing that. "What? How?" I demanded, trying to figure out how he could lose his Padawan, why she was missing, and why he was coming to me. I could see him begin to explain only for me to remember the game. "I fold," I said, tossing my cards into the pile and then picking up my helmet. "Now," I said as I moved closer and placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him, "tell me what happened. From the beginning."

He nodded, and as he gathered his thoughts I felt the Force shifting. There was something about this moment, and about Aayla's disappearance, that it seemed to be suggesting might be of use to me. I just had to figure out what was going on, help Quinlan find Aayla, and then determine how it might affect me.

… …

​

---

​

… …
A/N: And with Quinlan's appearance, the training run is over. If you know your Dark Horse comics, you can guess which arc from that I'm about to adapt.

A/N (2): LuciferBael's story is here Of Lightning and Blood
...
This story is cross-posted on Fanfiction.net, Archive of our Own, and Royal Road.
...
For those wishing to join the Discord for the story, the server link is:
For this series: Heart of the Force
For general chaos/Gamer stories: Shiro's Gaming Omniverse
(Those on the story server who engage in chat can earn access to a chapter ~3 weeks before it goes public).

For those who wish to support my writing, and get access to drafts and completed chapters anywhere from 1 to 4 months earlier head to one of the links below:
Patreon: USSExplorer
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Regardless if you join the discord or support my writing, I hope you enjoy the story and suggestions, valid criticisms, and ideas are always welcome.
And of course;

May the Force be with you. Always​

 

[USSExplorer]

A/N: As always, a huge thank you to those helping with lore and planning for this and my other stories.

And again, this chapter was released to those of sufficient rank on the story's Discord (it pays to talk) about a month ago. For those who support my writing, then it was released between 1 to 4 months ago (and those supporters can also access chapters that far in advance).

If joining the Discord or supporting my writing interests you, there is a link at the end of the chapter for how to do so.
A/N: The training arc is over, now onto missions.

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3.10: The Lost Apprentice 1
… …​

I walked into the cantina just outside the Herglic's Folly gambling district, the HUD scanning for an empty booth. Failing to find one, I instead moved towards one with a pair of Rodians in it. "Get lost," I snarled at them as I neared. The pair stared at me with large black eyes. "Now." The two shared a look, hands drifting under the table, though that stopped when I had a blaster in my hand before either could unclasp their blaster. "Last chance."

There was a fraction of a moment where I thought the pair might not leave, but in the end, the pair shuffled from the booth, collecting their drinks, and muttering some choice insults in their native tongue. I ignored those, and slid into the booth, gesturing for the two accompanying me to do the same.

"Villie likes your style," the Devaronian with me said as he slid into the booth.

I ignored the horned alien and tossed a credit chit to a rather nervous-looking Togruta female as she shuffled to our table. "We desire privacy," I said as the female almost dropped the chit. She nodded rapidly and then turned and moved away as fast as she could without making it too obvious my behaviour scared her.

Once she was far enough away, I turned to Quinlan who had moved into the booth last. "Now, how about you tell me what is going on and how you managed to lose your Padawan, Quinlan," I asked, knowing my choice of words would cause a reaction.

Quinlan's eyes snapped to me, fury burning in them, and I sensed him grasp his lightsaber. "I didn't lose her!" he snarled. "She was taken!"

I closed my eyes, using the unstable burst of emotion to see a glimpse of him being Force pushed over a ledge by Aayla. That had me frowning as the two were, from everything I remembered, as close as siblings could be without sharing blood or parents.

Ever since he had appeared during my sabacc game, all I'd been able to sense from him was rage and confusion. His mind was a mess with no hint of even the basics of control that were taught to Initiates. Almost as if he had forgotten everything he'd ever known and lost his moral and mental centre. The pain and anger flowed out from him like a fountain threatening to consume a mountain. Still, the burst he'd aimed at me wasn't something, even in his current state of distress, I was going to tolerate.

I slid my helmet off so I could look him in the eyes. "Quinlan," I began slowly, "control yourself," I continued, using a gentle application of the Force to strengthen my words. "I'm here to help, otherwise you wouldn't have sought me out," I added, trying to not display my amusement at the fact that, for once, it wasn't me who was on edge and close to losing control of their emotions.

Ever since Anakin's kidnapping, and taking onboard the techniques Adas had taught me, I'd felt far more centred and if not balanced as how the Jedi Order might wish me to be, then with the stability to avoid lashing out like a wild rancor. Now, I'd yet to have that control tested, but I felt my mental strength was sufficient that even if the whirlwind of emotions I sensed in Quinlan existed within me, I wouldn't be as unbalanced as he was.

Quinlan blinked, my subtle use of the Force pushing aside just enough of his misplaced rage that he could see clearer. "I…" he slumped into the booth, as if ashamed of his behaviour. "I'm sorry. It's just… Aayla."

I nodded, understanding the pain he would be experiencing since I'd gone through something similar – though Anakin and I didn't share the strength and length of connection that Quinlan and Aayla did. Still, now that he was calmer, and back from the edge of fury, I could feel how different Quinlan's presence in the Force was, and not just because of his fear and anger centring on Aayla's current unknown condition and location. Wanting a read on him, I used Observe and frowned at what it stated.

Quinlan Vos
Race: Kiffar
Level: 28
Health: 100%
Age: 27
Force Potential: High
Threat Potential: High (Currently Low)
Reputation: None
Affiliation Loyalty: Aayla Secura (65%)
Emotional State: Confused/concerned/disorientated
Quinlan is frankly a wreck. Recent events have left him uncertain of a great many things, though he knows that Aayla Secura is important to him, akin to family.
He also knows that they were both Jedi, yet he has no memories of this; only fleeting images from various objects with those brought forth by his ability to read the history of objects.
It is through such images from Aayla's lightsaber that he has sought out Cameron Shan, understanding that he is, like him, a friend to Aayla, and now he seeks your help in finding his lost Padawan.
...​

It seemed that Quinlan was something of a blank slate with his memories now gone, though I currently had no idea of how that had happened. The lack of loyalty towards the Jedi and his former Master Tholme was interesting, a clear sign of this memory loss, as was his threat potential being considered Low currently when it should be High.

I recalled sparring with Quinlan on occasion, though not since before I was Knighted. While his base was, like Aayla's, centred around Ataru he fought unpredictably; almost as if he were forever living on the edge of losing control. Based on what Observe was saying, and what I could sense from him within the Force, Quinlan had gone over that edge and, when combined with his loss of memories of decades of training as a Jedi, was a loose cannon. He should have gone to the Order, or even his former Master for help, yet it was clear he hadn't and instead sought me out.

I leaned forward and tilted my head to one side. "What happened to you, Quinlan?" I asked gently. "Your Force presence is to be blunt; a mess and I can't get a clear read on your surface thoughts beyond a desire to find Aayla." He tensed at her name, making clear she was the driving force behind whatever had made him seek me out. "From the beginning, tell me what happened. I need to understand why you're this way and why Aayla was taken."

Quinlan took a moment and inhaled deeply. I could sense him trying to find some sort of centre as he did so. Giving him the time to do so, I turned my focus to the Devaronian, Villie. The alien claimed to be Quinlan's friend, and from what little we'd talked before reaching this cantina, Quinlan suggested that was the case, but male Devaronians weren't considered trustworthy. As such, with a few seconds to spare before Quinlan began his story, I used Observe on Villie and instantly felt my distrust of him increase at what was revealed.

Villie (Vilmarh Grahrk)
Race: Devaronian
Level: 29
Health: 100%
Age: 39
Force Potential: Low
Threat Potential: Low
Reputation: Disliked
Affiliation Loyalty: Vilmarh Grahrk (100%)
Emotional State: Amused/Curious
Vilmar, though he often goes by Villie, is enjoying the confusion of the Jedi around him. Vos' behaviour has been constant since Nar Shaddaa; however, he isn't sure what to make of you.
Seeing a Jedi – Vos assured him that you were a Jedi though he has yet to see a lightsaber – in Mandalorian armour is unexpected.
Still, he is wondering how he might further profit from it, and how good of a gambler you are.
...​

There wasn't much there that helped get a read on Vilmarh as he was truly called – I assumed Villie was a nickname he used – but what was revealed was enough. The only loyalty he held was to himself, or at least the only loyalty that was over 50% that the Interface was willing to reveal to me. He might have some faint respect and loyalty to Quinlan, but it wasn't showing and even if it did, it would never override his self-interest. With all that in mind, I wanted the alien gone as soon as Quinlan was finished recounting the events that led him to seek me out.

Honestly, if it was just him we were talking about, I would likely offer to help him. I owed him after my capture by the Bando Gora even though I barely knew him. Aayla, however, was a friend, or at least had been when we'd last spoken, which had been before I'd been knighted. It was possible that Sia-Lan and others had spoken to her since then and turned Aayla's opinion against me, but I had no way of knowing that currently, and would work on the assumption that we remained friends.

"It started with an assignment from the Jedi Council," Quinlan started slowly, bringing my focus back to him as I noted that he was frowning as if struggling to recall the events of which he was speaking. "There was a new drug spreading into various corners of the Republic, Glitteryll, and the Council assigned us to investigate the matter as I had several contacts in the underworld."

"Glitteryll?" I asked as while I had heard the term in passing on the Holonet, I'd never bothered to do any deep dive to learn more about it. The galaxy was vast, and a single new drug or hallucinogen seemed to appear every other week.

"It's a synthesis of glitterstim and ryll. From what I've learnt, it's made by feeding ryll to energy spiders that are capable of producing glitterstim. I believe that I've destroyed the only source of the drug, but what it did was when ingested or injected into a sentient, it caused them to forget their memories – possibly forever if the dosage was high enough – and often made the recipient docile. At least on those not strong in the Force and not kept on a constant supply of the stuff."

I growled at hearing about the abilities of this drug. "I do hope you've destroyed the source, though if I ever hear of its existence elsewhere, I'll be seeking to exterminate the spiders and those feeding them ryll with extreme intent."

A faint hint of a smile came to Quinlan's face as he heard that. "I will be doing likewise having been made to experience glitteryll." He paused and placed his hand against his temple for a moment before continuing. "Anyway, our investigation, as you might expect given where ryll comes from, took us to Ryloth where we met Pol Secura." one of my eyebrows rose at the name. "Yes, he is… was related to Aayla. Her uncle in fact. He, along with a member of my clan from Kiffu, was involved in the creation of the drug," he added with a growl, one laced with more rage.

Quinlan growled and I sensed an almost unrestrained well of rage directed at one or both the people about whom he had spoken. At the same time, the Force subtly moved around us in a way that I didn't entirely understand, yet I felt it was hinting at something that could affect the path we both took in the future.

"From what I've been able to piece together, when Aayla and I learnt the truth Pol and Asante Vos had us dosed with the drug." Quinlan paused here and closed his eyes as I felt him working to restrain the well inside him that seemingly bubbled as he spoke of the pair responsible for whatever had happened to him and Aayla. I remained silent, saving my questions for when he ended so that he could get through the entire story without getting distracted by minor matters.

"After being drugged, I awoke on Nar Shaddaa without a clue of where or who I was. The room I found myself in was a blaze, and at the time I managed to escape without understanding how, but I now know I used the Force to do so." That he knew how to use the Force instinctively, and I suspected could wield his lightsaber, hinted that his memories weren't necessarily gone; just lost in the deepest depths of his psyche. "That was the beginning of my… adventure on that world," he glanced at Vilmarh there. "One in which every sentient I encountered tried to kill me. It was after that first attack that I encountered Vilmarh."

"Villie find Jedi there. Confused and alone he was. Villie wanted to help him," the Devaronian said with a smile, exposing the large, sharp teeth of his species which when combined with the horns on his head and red skin created a fine image of a demonic figure from my former life. One many might call a devil.

Now, I knew it was wrong to judge a species by their appearance, but some concerns and misconceptions from my former life still existed in me, and when combined with what Observe had revealed, I doubted I'd ever find myself trusting this particular alien. Haran, if not for the fact Quinlan seemed to trust him – or at least tolerate his presence – I'd have already suggested the Devaronian left. Forcibly if he tried to say otherwise.

"Help is a subjective word," Quinlan added with a chuckle which only increased my distaste for Vilmarh. "Vilmarh, though he often calls himself Villie, is something of a gambler. A bad one at that…"

"Hey!"

"… as he, like almost everyone in Nar Shaddaa, decided to place a bet on when, where, and how I would die."

I grunted, fixing the alien with a stare that, if not for my immense control, would likely see him on the floor in pain as I used the Force to explain why trying to kill a Force user was an incredibly bad idea.

"Many placed bets on Jedi," Vilmarh said, failing to catch the cold fury behind my stare and seeing it as a demand for an explanation. "Many tried to cheat to win bet. Villie help Jedi escape cheats."

"Because if they had succeeded, you would've lost your bets?"

Vilmarh laughed at my question and slapped the table. "This Jedi gets it!" He said proudly to Quinlan before returning his attention to me. "Must be the Mandalorian in you," he added as his eyes looked over my armour with a hint of interest. I ignored the stare, along with the blunt probe for information on why I was wearing my armour. None of that was his concern, but if he made any move to acquire any section of the beskar I wore, it would be the last thing he ever did.

"He did have a bet on my death," Quinlan said as he continued his story. "However, thanks to the Force, I sensed this and reversed the powercell on his blaster before he could use it against me."

"Shame it didn't explode in his face," I muttered loud enough that they could hear me.

"Hey Now!" Vilmarh snapped, "Villie no like your tone Jedi." I chuckled, daring him to do something about it. "However, Villie forgive you. You friend of Quinlan, who is Villie's lucky Jedi, so Villie likes you too." I'd rather he didn't, but it wasn't a point worth arguing over.

"After his failed attempt," Quinlan continued, "two more sentients arrived. They were dressed like me, carried lightsabers and claimed to be Jedi. I was wary of them however and after Vilmarh warned me that they weren't Jedi, I killed them and took their lightsabers."

I nodded, thankful that they received the justice they deserved for pretending to be Jedi. Not because I cared about what little good standing the Order might have, but because of the principle of the thing.

"Once I held the lightsabers, I understood they were mine and Aayla's. When I grasped mine, I saw… flashes of my past, though the images were jumbled and had no emotional meaning to them."

"Psychrometry," I said slowly, "a rare gift that allows those who have it to read images and memories from objects they touch."

Quinlan nodded. "Yes, I learnt the name later, but at the time I didn't understand what I was seeing. From my lightsaber, I learnt my name and images of my past. Some were of my time as a Jedi, a few of when I was a youngling on Kiffu. Many centred around Aayla, though again, at the time I didn't learn her name until I held her hilt."

"That suggests that your memories aren't gone, but rather buried deep in your subconscious. There might be ways to recover them, but I'm uncertain of how to do so."

Quinlan nodded, seemingly accepting my words without issue. "When I held Aayla's hilt, beyond learning her name and that she is… was my Padawan and that it was my duty to protect her. However, I didn't have the time to truly focus on the blades and see what I could learn, not when others were still coming after me because of the bet." He smirked and jerked one hand at Vilmarh. "This one made a new bet after I survived his attempt to kill me; one with outrageous odds which required him to work with me honestly."

I looked at the Devaronian and considered the idea for a moment. "He bet on you to live… no, to escape the planet, as while you were on that world you'd be in danger," I said slowly as I closed my eyes, the answer coming to me with some logical thinking and a gentle grasp into the Force to confirm my suspicions. "He lost something… his ship on the first bet. To get it back he had to make an even riskier bet."

When I opened my eyes, both of them were looking at me. Quinlan understood what I'd just done, though he likely didn't understand that I'd used the Force to take the knowledge instead of asking for it. Vilmarh, however, seemed shocked at my understanding of the details of the situation. "How Jedi do that?" He blurted out.

I smirked. "The Force is a gateway to many abilities that some would consider incredible or unnatural," I replied, feeling amusement bubble in my chest. "Anyway," I continued, waving a hand to dismiss the matter, "given you are both here, it is safe to assume that Vilmarh won his bet, and you escaped Nar Shaddaa."

"We did, and once we did I spent time with the lightsabers, trying to regain what I could of my lost memories," Quinlan said slowly, one hand holding his lightsaber tightly. "Yet, while I recovered much about my past, there was no connection to them. I couldn't recall living them, and thus they held little importance. Save for those dealing with Aayla." He paused and leaned forward. "Is it normal for a Jedi to feel a strong connection to their Padawan as I do not feel such a bond to the one who once trained me?"

"The one who trained you was called Tholme, though I know little about him," I replied gently, taking my time to consider how to phrase my answer to the rest of what he asked. "As for the bond between Master and Padawan, it is a close bond – the closest most Jedi can experience to having a father or children – yet officially the Order prefers if the connection remains at best as one between friends and allies. It does, however, vary between the Jedi Knights and Masters. Some keep the bond in their thoughts while they train a Padawan, while others choose to ignore or dismiss its importance.

"I cannot say how you taught Aayla, but I recall when we were both just Initiates, that she knew you would be the one to train her in the ways of the Force. It was you, after all, who found her when you were a newly made Padawan yourself and brought her to the Temple." I smiled as my mind instantly brought back the warmth in Aayla's words when she spoke of Quinlan. "From what I recall, she considered you her older brother or cousin," I added, hoping it might help him remember something about his bond with her.

"Ah," he said slowly, as if a light had gone off inside his head. "That explains much of why she feels so important to me." He took a moment, gathering her thoughts, and I stayed silent waiting for him to continue. "There was one other thing that happened before we left Nar Shaddaa. An encounter with another Twi'lek named Bib Fortuna." I tensed slightly at the name, well aware of his connection to Jabba. I'd rather not find myself in the crosshairs of a Hutt, at least not for the time being, but if that was the case, then I'd do so for Aayla. "He knew who I was, and was connected to both Pol Secura and some, at the time, mysterious benefactor. He wouldn't reveal who that was, not even when I threatened him with my lightsaber." A small smirk came to his face, and I felt his enjoyment of the memory, wondering if the darkness that swirled around Quinlan had always been there or if it was a result of the memory loss. "However, before I could convince him to tell me, we were attacked by guards and droids."

"Droids?"

"Yes," Vilmarh replied with a nod. "Destroyer droids. Very bad news. Villie get Quinlan to leave quickly when they appear. Need to protect my bet."

I scratched my chin as I considered the reveal of the destroyer droids, and ignored Vilmarh's motivation for helping Quinlan.

Destroyer droids were linked to the Trade Federation, and while they had a new directorate after HK removed Nute Gunray and his assistants, they'd been keeping quiet while the Senate investigated their actions on Naboo. As expected, the matter was going slowly as with Gunray and many other Neimoidians dead there were few to question regarding the motives, but I felt the Banite Sith, in their roles as Chancellors, were working to delay and distract proceedings to suit their plans.

The fact the droids were seen protecting Bib Fortuna was more concerning as it hinted at possible ties between Jabba and the Banite Sith. Oh, I knew there had to be some sort of contact between them, but the presence of Jabba's major-domo meant things were far more interlocked than I realised.

"This is certainly interesting, and something I would like to come back to. However, for now, our focus should be on your story and what happened to Aayla."

"Yes," Quinlan said slowly in agreement. "After escaping Nar Shaddaa…"

"Villie win big on Quinlan doing that."

"… we headed to Kiffar," Quinlan continued, ignoring the comment from the Devaronian. "I had seen images of my people, and while we travelled I learnt the current leader of the Guardians was Tinte Vos, who I felt a connection towards. Once on Kiffu, I learnt she was my great-aunt and that before we'd lost our memories, Aayla and I had headed to Kiffu to speak with Sheyf Tinte." He paused and shook his head. "She hates the Jedi, claiming they stole me from her and my clan."

"All in Outer Rim know this. Jedi steal babies."

I sighed at Vilmarh's remark and pinched the bridge of my nose. "The Jedi don't steal younglings," I said slowly, ignoring the fact I was defending the Order's practices when I didn't agree with their methods. "They simply seek out those younglings who are strong in the Force, and if the parents or guardians agree, take the child to Coruscant and the Temple for training. Most parents want that, as they think it's a good life for their child, but not all agree and in that case, the Jedi are meant to leave and forget about the youngling."

Now, I agreed that those who could draw on the Force should be trained to harness their power, but the way the Jedi went about it – and their choice to not fully explain the reasoning behind it to the wider galaxy – was a mistake the Sith, even those predating the Banite Order that currently ruled, exploited to drum up anti-Jedi sentiment. The fact the Jedi had never rectified that issue, nor considered the need for a PR department after tens of thousands of years was beyond fucking stupid.

"Anyway," I said, drawing a line under the off-topic moment, "your aunt mentioned you had been to her before with Aayla, and I assume, guided you to Ryloth again?"

"Yes," Quinlan replied, fidgeting slightly in his seat. His mind was restless, a need to move and do something echoing so loudly in the Force that I wondered how the Council couldn't sense it on Coruscant. At least until I remembered that it had grown far harder for the Jedi to use the Force to see what was, would be, or might be happening in the galaxy because of the creation of a shroud or veil created by the Banite Sith to hide their presence and actions.

"It took some time for Vilmarh and me to discover the truth, but eventually we learnt that Pol Secura was involved in the creation and shipping of glitteryll. When I confronted him, he revealed that he was keeping Aayla among his slaves."

The word came out as a barely audible hiss, and I closed my eyes to centre myself against the wave of violent, malignant wrath I felt flowing from Quinlan. It reminded me of when I'd felt Anakin lash out at the Trandoshans, that immature, unfocused rage that I myself was prone to using up until that event. Yet what I felt from Quinlan was different in some ways.

Anakin's rage and that which I had displayed before the change in the Interface had been of one pushing up against an edge that we didn't truly understand or know what we were doing. For Quinlan, it felt almost as if he was drawing it into himself without realising; gaining strength and focus while unknowingly submitting to the whims of the worse elements of the Dark Side of the Force. However, what caught my attention, and for a moment drew me in, was the faint whisper offering to let me in, wanting me to take control and guide the rage emanating from Quinlan. To bend him to my will.

I pushed such thoughts aside and returned my full attention to Quinlan. "Why did he keep her like that?" I asked slowly, using the time it took me to speak to ensure the brief temptation didn't draw me more than a few inches from my controlled centre.

"Because she was family," Quinlan almost spat out. "He saw us in her presence, and kept her filled with glitteryll so she knew nothing but her name. He…"

His words trailed off and I saw the knuckles on the hand grasping his lightsaber hilt go white. Even as I reached into the Force to offer him something to focus on, I lifted my hand next to him and placed it on his shoulder. "Calm yourself, Quinlan," I said softly, using my control over my inner darkness to help him suppress the fury that threatened to overwhelm him. "Losing yourself to your rage over events that have happened, or might still happen, will not help us. It will instead make it harder to both find and then save Aayla from whatever danger she is currently in."

As I spoke, I used the Force to grant him reassurance, committing myself to helping him find her, regardless of her state or location. I watched as his eyes closed and he turned his focus inward, drawing on my presence in the Force while taking deep, calming breaths to find a point within himself where he could if not control then at least contain the wrath that burned deeply within him.

If I were a proper Jedi, I would've already insisted that he return to Coruscant for help and retraining, yet I had never been one to walk the path the Council wanted all Jedi to follow. Since Zonama Sekot I'd begun to realise that my path lay not just on one separate from the Council, but from the Order as well, and I was beginning to feel that the path I was walking might be one that appealed to Quinlan as well.

However, such thoughts were a matter for after Aayla was rescued, and the pair reunited. She might not remember me, but Aayla was a friend, and for that, I would do whatever it took to save her, the Council and the Republic be damned as to my methods.

After perhaps a minute, Quinlan opened his eyes and offered me a weak smile. "Thank you," he said quietly as I felt the furious storm within him if not disperse then at least lessen and withdraw for the time being.

"That's what friends are for," I replied.

"Are we friends?" He asked slowly, his head tilting to one side as I removed my hand from his shoulder. "From what I can recall from the images, we were never close. You and Aayla, however, were, though I feel from the lingering emotions I sensed from those images, perhaps not as close as she might have wished."

"We only really knew each other in passing; mainly because of Aayla," I answered honestly, feeling it was the right path to take. "We had sparred on occasion as well, but what you've forgotten is that I owe you as I was once captured by a rather evil cult. You and Aayla were part of the team that came to rescue me. It is because of that, and that I consider Aayla a friend, that I pledge to you, here and now, that until we find her I will be at your side." He nodded and the first flicker of a real smile came to his face. "However, for that, I need to hear the rest of your tale."

He nodded and I noted that the grasp on his lightsaber hilt had lessened. As if he no longer sought it and the memories it brought forth for strength and focus. "I spoke with her after Pol revealed her to me, and placed her lightsaber in her hands. Yet she couldn't recall anything." He grunted before continuing. "At that, I turned on Pol Secura and demanded answers. I wanted to know who he was working for, and when he refused… I summoned my rage as energy."

"Force lightning?"

He nodded. "Yes, that is perhaps the name for it. He gave me the name of his patron: Senator Chom Frey Kaa."

"I recall the news that he was removed from office a few months ago, but the Holonet didn't say why," I said slowly, the information, along with the ascension of Orn Free Taa to the position of Senator for the sector containing Ryloth. "Since he was removed, I assume this matter was brought to the Council and the Senate?

"It was, however, not by me." I frowned at hearing that, though I withheld a question as I could feel that was unimportant to the current position in Quinlan's tale.

"After Pol gave me the Senator's name, I could've released him. I could've let him go. But I didn't." He looked up at me with pained and confused eyes. "I wanted to hurt him. To torture and kill him." Understandable, if not exactly a sentiment the Council would approve of. "Aayla, not understanding why I was hurting her uncle, nor that I was doing it because of what he'd done to her… she lashed out with the Force. Pol and I were tossed off the ledge we were on. I survived the fall, the Force protecting me. Pol was not so lucky."

"Villie help Jedi escape. Wormheads not like political assassins. Like really not like. Bad poodoo."

"We… we were forced to escape from Ryloth before I could go back for Aayla," Quinlan continued, both of us ignoring Vilmarh's added commentary. "With little to work with, I headed to Coruscant. I wanted to take out my rage on Senator Kaa. I eventually gained a confession from that fat toad, but before I could execute him for what he'd done to me, Aayla, and countless others, Master Mace Windu appeared." I growled, knowing how that little confrontation had gone before Quinlan told me.

"He stopped me from killing Kaa, even fought me to protect that slug. I lost and he assured me the Senator would be punished in accordance with the law. He… he then offered to take me back to the Temple so that I could be retrained. He said he would help me find Aayla, but the Force told me he wouldn't. That he didn't care about her."

The storm within Quinlan began to grow wilder, and I placed my hand back on his shoulder, helping him push it back so he might continue his tale.

Quinlan turned his head to face me. "All he cared about was getting me to the Temple, to have me brought under the Order's control before my actions on Ryloth disgraced the Order."

"I'm not sure that's exactly why he wanted to take you to the Temple, or at least not the main reason," I said slowly, mindful of how I phrased my words so the storm that was his Force presence didn't overwhelm what little control he had. "However, that you killed an official on a Republic world would cause tension between the Order, the Senate, and the Republic at large. He would've wanted the matter brought in-house to avoid embarrassment to the Order," I added, barely able to keep my dislike of the way the Council operated at times from my tone and Force presence. "To help keep the peace."

"Yes. Exactly. That's what the force told me," Quinlan replied with a nod of hope. "I… he let me leave, saying that I could return to the Order when I was ready but all that mattered to me then, all that matters now is finding and saving Aayla."

"If you wouldn't accept help from the Order, why would you turn to me? I am a Jedi after all."

"You no dress like Jedi."

I ignored Vilmarh's comment and kept my focus on Quinlan, "And you say she needs to be saved?"

"Yes," he replied with a nod. "In the months since leaving Coruscant, as Vilmarh has helped me search for Aayla, I've grown certain she's in danger. Something… sinister is closing its vice around her. Something that I know will kill her if I'm not quick enough to find her. The Force showed this to me, along with images of you."

"Not easy to find you Jedi," Vilmarh interrupted again. "Name of Jedi on the Holonet, but location of you not. Took Villie much effort to find your ship."

"The Force guided me here," Quinlan cut in before I suspected the Devaronian attempted to get me to pay him for his troubles in helping Quinlan. I was going to do that anyway as there was as much chance of a Wookie falling in love with a Trandoshan as there was that I'd let him on Raven, but the fact he was trying to drive up his price only proved how unreliable he was if another made him a better offer.

Yet, for all the Devaronian's attempts at increasing his pay, my focus was on the Force as I felt it continuing to swirl around Quinlan and myself. Faint, almost indistinct whispers of what might be slipped past me, their words, and ideas just beyond my reach. However, while I felt that I knew what was being at, my focus remained on the here and now, and working to find and save Aayla. At least for the majority of my thoughts.

"You will help me, won't you?" Quinlan asked a hint of desperation in his tone.

"I will," I replied. "However, without anything to go upon, finding a particular Rutian Twi'lek female in the galaxy is going to be very difficult," I continued, ignoring the alert that popped up in the Interface. That would be a quest for finding and saving Aayla, and I'd find time to see what exactly was required for the completion of the quest.

"I know that!" Quinlan snapped, though his tone and the rage he generated within the Force was less than it had been when we'd first sat down. "I spent months looking for her without success, and then I saw hints of you in the Force and I knew that you were the key to finding her."

I offered him what I hoped was a comforting smile. "I can attempt to search for her through the Force, but it was never something at which I was particularly skilled. What would help with that would be something that belongs to her. Do you have anything?" I asked softly. Fay had told me before that having something to focus on often helped with seeking help from the Force relating to a specific sentient, however, I had never attempted such a thing. Both because the Interface had dulled my connection to the Force, and because I lacked the, to be blunt, patience to spend days if not weeks in communion with the Force seeking answers.

"No," Quinlan replied, his shoulders slumping. "I did have her lightsaber, but it was lost on Ryloth. I assume she took it with her, but I can't be certain of that. After Pol Secura's death, Vilmarh was more insistent that we escape the planet before we were arrested for the death than trying to stop Aayla or taking anything of hers."

"Hmm, that's going to make things more complicated," I said slowly only to stop for a moment as I realised I was stroking my chin in that oh-so-typical Jedi manner. It was a minor thing, but I'd once sworn to not do that, yet I kept finding myself doing it more and more as I matured.

Putting my irritation with the small lapse in concentration, I return my focus to Quinlan and how to find Aayla. "Heading to Ryloth might be possible, so long as you remained on my ship, but I'm uncertain if that would be any major help as I'm uncertain they'd give me anything we could use as a focus while meditating."

I gestured for Vilmarh to stand so we could all exit the booth. Once I was up, I slid my helmet on and turned to face the Devaronian. "Your services are no longer required," I stated bluntly to him.

"Now wait a minute Jedi, Villie…" his voice trailed off as I placed a handful of credit chits in his hands.

"Consider that more than ample payment for helping Quinlan up until now," I said, casually using about ten thousand credits to get rid of the Devaronian. Perhaps I was over-paying him, but Quinlan trusted him so I might have some use for him in future, and thus placing the idea that I paid well into his mind didn't harm anyone. Ten thousand credits was a drop in the ocean considering my reserves were over three billion credits with more rolling in every day from my cuts from the holomovie for Fellowship of the Ring and its merchandising.

"Do not follow us," I added, though I already knew he couldn't, not unless his hyperdrive was at least 0.7-rated. Raven could go faster if I delved into the Force and flew the lanes with her, but I preferred to keep that factoid hidden until it was critically needed.

"Vilmarh is a thief and pirate, but he's helped me so far," Quinlan said as he caught up to me as I reached the door to the cantina.

"He has, but I suspect that is because he won that bet on Nar Shaddaa and now considers you something of a lucky charm," I replied as I pushed my way out of the cantina; the pair of Weequays about to step in scurrying to avoid the armoured Mandalorian exiting the place.

Quinlan's robes were darker and more worn than those usually seen on Jedi, but even if they weren't it was doubtful anyone would believe he was a Jedi. Not so long as they failed to see the lightsaber at his hip. Yes, I had mine there as well, but people's eyes were drawn to the armour, and then if they knew about it the beskar used in its construction over the rare weapon at my hip.

As we moved, the HUD was capturing the images of everyone nearby and through the Battlenet linking it to Raven's computers, accessing the local Republic security systems. While those weren't the most dependable – especially on a world where corruption was almost as rampant as Coruscant – about forty per cent of the faces were known to local security forces. On another evening, if I felt the need to blow off some steam, I'd find the worst of the lot and either remove them or drag their defeated bodies to a security station and claim any outstanding bounties on them. Yes, I wasn't a member of the bounty Hunter's guild, but as a Jedi, I could easily circumvent that issue.

However, tonight those fools were safe as I had more important issues to handle. "My ship is about an hour's walk from here," I said to Quinlan as we moved. "Once there, we'll consider our next steps, and I can introduce you to my Padawan."

There was no hiding Anakin from Quinlan, so being open about it was the best path to take since I'd committed to helping Quinlan find Aayla. The issue would be that once Aayla was found and saved as if they returned to the Temple, then they would mention Anakin to others. That would let the cat out of the bag – with about the Council and the Banite Sith – but after around twenty months with Anakin as my ad and Padawan, I was secure in the fact he wouldn't let anyone separate us. Nor would I for that matter.

Having Quinlan along, and then later Aayla after we found her, would do Anakin some good I felt. He was limited in his interactions with others who could use the Force. I mean, he had spoken with Vosa – as much as I disliked her interest in my son – and been trained a little by Dooku, but outside of that, he had no interaction with any major Force user. Yes, Quinlan was off-balance and missing much of his memories – or at least the emotional attachment to them – but he was a trained Jedi and would be a new sparring partner for Anakin.

"You have a Padawan?"

I chuckled under my helmet at the shock in Quinlan's tone. "It's not that recent a thing, but also one I've not advertised. I took him not long after the Battle of Naboo, though I suspect you know little about that."

"I do actually," He replied. "When I was searching for you on the Holonet, I found images linking you to the liberation efforts though there are articles claiming you overstepped your bounds as a Jedi by interfering." I glanced at him.

"Yes, I've heard those voices. Both politicians, social commentators, and even inside the Order and from the Council."

"They're wrong!" Quinlan said firmly. "The Council only care about themselves and not the younger members of the Order!" Images of Aayla rushed from him into the Force. "Why would they care what you do to help others when they won't?"

I stopped and turned to face him, sensing the raging storm of his emotions surging forward within him again. Wanting to see if this storm was simply a result of his memory loss, or if there was something else buried in there, I peered into him through the Force, seeking the core of his personality.

With his training only existing in the subconscious, his mental defences were, to be blunt, pathetic, and I was easily able to circumvent them without him realising what I was doing. As I dove into what shaped his presence on the Force, I found that Quinlan had something buried deep within him that fuelled his aggression. Something that perhaps had always been an influence on him even before he lost his memory.

While the source of his aggression and reactive tendencies was his, it was familiar, reminding me of both myself and, as much as he was still young and immature, Anakin. A gentle pull existed from Quinlan's core, tempting me to push deeper and possibly even shape this fury that lay at the very core of his being; however, this wasn't the time nor place to consider such an action and I pulled back.

"Wh-what did you do?" He asked slowly, suggesting even though I'd been careful he'd sensed my mind entering his.

"I looked at you through the Force," I replied honestly. "It is a slight invasion of privacy, for which I apologise, but I wanted to get a proper read on you and see what was affecting your actions and choices in the Force. Amusingly, I see much of myself in you, though as we're both prone to rushing into situations that's not a huge surprise." A faint flicker of amusement flashed over his face. "Perhaps if we had both spent more time at the Temple growing up we might've become good friends. Who knows, after this perhaps we might become so," I finished before turning and resuming my walk to Raven.

Quinlan stayed still for a few seconds before he caught up with me. "I sense that you are right," He said slowly as we walked. "That might be why the memories of you were so prevalent in the images I saw while holding Aayla's lightsaber. That I felt a connection to you through the Force but didn't understand it at the time, and why I chose to seek you out over taking Mace Windu's offer to return and retrain at the Jedi Temple."

"Perhaps," I replied, not wanting to dwell on the matter until I'd had more time to consider it. "However, what might have been, and what could be, is less important than what is. Our focus must stay on finding and helping Aayla. Hopefully without her trying to kill you for the death of her uncle," I added.

I understood why Quinlan had wanted to kill Pol, and if our positions were reversed, I'd have done the same. However, that didn't change the fact Aayla blamed Quinlan for Pol Secura's death, and might well seek to kill him when they next met.

Silence came from Quinlan as he considered my words as we walked. In that silence, I accessed my HUD. The merchant I was waiting on to find the component Anakin was seeking for his droid would need to be contacted and I'd have to have the order either cancelled – unlikely given about half the time we had to wait had already passed and this deal wasn't strictly legal – or I'd have to ask him to hold the component.

Another idea came to me then, and I used the Battlenet to access the planetary communication network and reached out to see if any other Mando'ade were on the planet. I smirked as five responded to my greeting. There might be more who couldn't or didn't want to respond to my call, but five should be enough.

After explaining the issue, I discovered one – someone who had fought under my banner on Naboo actually – was in orbit and was willing to take the component elsewhere for me. I considered having it sent to Duke Adonai, but in the end, chose to have it delivered to Dooku in the Gaia system. I knew that no matter how this mission to find Aayla played out, that would be my first port of call afterwards.

My fellow Mando'ade accepted my request to deliver the component, and after the transfer of a thousand credits – for discretion as the component wasn't strictly legal without the proper permits – I considered that matter closed and could avoid Anakin complaining at us leaving before he got what we had initially been here for.

With that handled, my thoughts returned to Aayla. She was somewhere out in the galaxy; the question was where. Also, who, if anyone, was she running with and what sort of danger did she find herself in? I accepted she would be in danger even without opening the quest that would likely confirm it as, where I was concerned, The Force seemed to enjoy throwing me into chaotic situations that while I emerged from stronger; either caught me by surprise or tested me in ways I didn't realise I needed to be tested. Often at the same time.

The Force was using me to seek whatever it considered balance, yet I had to be careful. What it wanted and what I desired were, in all likelihood not going to align perfectly. I had to carve out my path so that I could survive and flourish in the coming chaos, and as I walked, I felt that Quinlan and Aayla might have some role to play in creating that trail, though what it was would have to wait until after Aayla was found and saved.

… …

---

… …
I sat on the floor of my quarters, seeking guidance from the Force over where Aayla was. The Force, however, was, in its oh-so-infinite wisdom, being reluctant to help me. Not only could I feel that it was unable or unwilling to answer my requests, but part of it was actively seeking to block me. Something that, as I felt my anger rise, reared up as if both challenging me and inviting me deeper into it.

My eyes snapped open at that shift in the Force. A glance at the chronometer on my arm drew a deep, guttural growl from me. Fourteen hours I'd been sitting here, seeking some kind of help and guidance from the Force but I had shab'an to show for my efforts. Or from any previous attempt I'd made since leaving Ord Mantell with Quinlan.

"Why the fuck won't you help?" I snapped, directing my anger towards the Force. I knew it wouldn't respond, but I needed to vent the anger and let go of the pointless need to blame the Force if I was to focus and move on.

It'd been a week since Quinlan had sought me out, and a day since we'd left Ryloth without anything of Aayla's that might help in locating her. The Twi'leks, while sympathetic to my need as a Jedi to find another of my Order, were unwilling to help given it was a Jedi that had killed Pol Secura.

After that complete waste of time, Raven had slipped into hyperspace bound for the Core. Now, I knew that the odds of Aayla being there were slim, but once we had a hint of where to head to find her, we'd have access to all the major hyperspace lanes which, in theory, would make it quicker for us to find her than leaving from a random point elsewhere in the Republic.

The problem was that neither I nor Quinlan were gaining any insight into where Aayla was, and to make matters worse the various meditative techniques I'd been shown by Dooku and Fay for seeking support and assistance from the Force were, to put it bluntly, failing. Now, I understood that some of the issue was that the Banite Sith had done something to darken the ability of those who used the Light Side – or in my case tried to use it – but the fact the Force was so hesitant to help me was infuriating.

I'd never had issues before when trying to gleam a hint from the Force, save when Anakin was kidnapped. However, at the time I had thought the issue was that I was struggling to control my emotions. Yet now, when I was – bar the odd minor burst of irritation at the Force being as useful as a snowball on Tatooine – in control of myself, the fact the Force still refused to help was infuriating, and yet also interesting.

Wanting to take a break from my so far failing attempts to glean anything of where Aayla might be, I stood, stretching once up. Thanks to Player's Body I didn't need to stretch and work out the kinks when I shifted after a long time in one position or awoke, yet I still did so, finding something relaxing about the ritual. Once up, I closed my eyes and reached through the Force for the bond I shared with Raven. She responded in less time than it took one to blink, and I intuitively knew the status of her various systems and the location of everyone else onboard.

Simvyl was in the cockpit, monitoring the various mechanical systems while Raven soared through the strange energies of hyperspace. If anything was wrong, however, it would be Raven who alerted me first through our bond. Fenrir was resting, as semi-normal in the central area, lounging on one of the sofa-like seats there while the droids were in a small cargo bay that Anakin had converted into his workshop. The pair were either charging – as that was where the alcoves had been moved – or discussing whatever it was droids talked about in their downtime.

Anakin and Quinlan were the only two really doing anything, as I could feel the pair enjoying themselves from within the bay converted into a training area. Even as I slipped from my cabin, I knew the pair would be sparring. Anakin dragged Quinlan any time he could to the training area so they could spar.

After rebuilding my lightsaber, I'd given my shoto blade to Anakin so that he had a blade to train and use. At least until he constructed his own. For that, however, we first had to find him a crystal. Now, I could just give him one of those half dozen I had in my Inventory, but I knew that wouldn't be an ideal fit. No, it was better if he found and selected the crystal for himself, or in theory created one. However, I knew he wasn't anywhere near trained enough to attempt that last option as I remembered well the effort it had taken me to create the micro-crystal that was now part of my lightsaber and given it the new red central colouring.

The most obvious place for him to find a crystal would be the caves on Ilum, however, that would need permission from the Council for him to head there. Assuming that Quinlan and Aayla returned to the Order once she was saved – something I had grown slightly less expectant to happen – learnt about Anakin, I had little interest in returning to the Temple with him. The Council would want to test him and there was far too great a chance that they'd discover Anakin was more than just my Padawan.

However, I was less certain that Quinlan and Aayla would return to the Order, and that was due to the Interface generating two quests relating to Aayla's disappearance, with the second being unexpected but potentially very exploitable. As I walked through Raven's corridors, I pulled up both quests to quickly review them.

The Lost Apprentice [ƍ] [֍]
Find and save Aayla Secura alongside her Master Quinlan Vos.
Rating: A
Objectives:
:a : Find where Aayla is inside half a year.
:b :Ensure that Aayla is saved.
:c: Make sure that Quinlan survives.
Rewards:
:a :1500XP
:b :2500XP
Passed test of Friendship with Quinlan Vos
A Large increase in Reputation with Quinlan Vos
:c: 2000XP
A decent increase in Reputation with Quinlan Vos
A variable increase or decrease in Reputation with Aayla Secura.
Failure:
:a :Death of Aayla Secura.
A massive loss in reputation with Quinlan Vos
Permanently lock Reputation with Quinlan Vos at hated.
:b :Death of Aayla Secura.
A massive loss in reputation with Quinlan Vos
Permanent block Reputation with Quinlan Vos of hated.
:c: Death of Quinlan Vos.
A variable increase or decrease in Reputation with Aayla Secura.
...
A Change in Path [֍]
An opportunity to alter the destinies of others has occurred.
Rating: A
Objectives:
:a :Convince Quinlan and Aayla to return to the Jedi.
:b : Convince Quinlan and Aayla to join you on your travels so that when galactic war comes, they are more likely to fight at your side.
:c: Convince Quinlan and Aayla to explore the galaxy themselves.
:d: Begin training Quinlan and Aayla in what you have learnt over the last few years in preparation for the coming war so that they might fight at your side in it.
Rewards:
:a :1500XP (for each that takes this path)
Variable increases in Reputation with members of the Jedi Order once they learn of your actions.
b: 2500XP (for each that takes this path)
Variable, though small, increases in Reputation with the Jedi Order once they learn of your actions.
Decent to large increases in Reputation with Quinlan Vos and Aayla Secura.
:c: 2000XP (for each that takes this path)
Small to Decent increases in Reputation with Quinlan Vos and Aayla Secura.
:d: 3500XP (for each that takes this path)
Creation of a new quest
Failure:
Paths :a :, :b :, and :c: are mutually exclusive, thus no penalty is assigned if one of these choices is taken of the others.
:d:
Potential for large losses of Reputation with Quinlan Vos and Aayla Secura.
Potential for the Jedi High Council to declare you a Dark Jedi and send members of the Order to apprehend or kill you.
...​

The first quest was exactly what I expected, and yet far more limited than I might've hoped for. Before Naboo, a quest was clear in what had to be done and listed several hidden objectives. Reveal the Hidden had taken away the hidden nature of some objectives, so I had expected this quest to reveal more than it did. Since it didn't, all I could hope was that more objectives would appear as I learnt more about Aayla's situation, as had happened with The Phantom Menace and a few other long-winded but time-restrained quests. Either that, or finding and saving Aayla was going to be far easier than I felt it should be, but when had my luck ever been that great?

It was the second quest that had me wondering if the pair would return to the Order once Aayla was saved and was giving me a lot to consider.

Assuming that the whole glitteryll incident happened in the other timeline, then both had rejoined the Jedi and fought for the GAR in the Clone Wars. While Aayla's death was shown on-screen, Quinlan's wasn't. Regardless of that, they had returned to the Order, yet this quest was suggesting that I could alter that destiny for both of them; perhaps even to the point that they would ally with and learn from me.

Now, they could still return to the Order, and I'd complete the quest, but that was the path that offered the lowest XP reward, and thus I assumed, the path with the highest likelihood of occurring but also the one that offered the least benefit to me. The other paths, to either travel with me or head off on their own, were more interesting. Not least as the implication that I could train the pair myself, helping them relearn what they once knew but from a perspective more aligned with my opinions on the Force and how it should be used.

Now, I had been helping Quinlan with his training in the week since I'd agreed to help him, but I was keeping to purely Jedi techniques currently as while much of his training was still within him, his ability to understand and draw upon that was non-existent except when he stopped thinking too hard and just acted. That might not be an issue if he had better natural control over his emotions, but he didn't and as such he was prone to, when pushed too hard, lashing out.

To be clear, he wasn't a danger around Anakin as he knew far more instinctively than Anakin did when I came to sparring, but on the occasions I had sparred with him and overwhelmed his form, there had been moments where he'd almost lost control. Thankfully, I was able to ensure he didn't, though a few of those moments had been handled by drawing on teachings I'd gained from Adas. It was unlikely that if he returned to the Jedi, Quinlan would remember what I was showing him, but it was a concern and why I was sticking mainly to Jedi techniques even when those didn't seem to be working that well for him currently.

However, if the pair chose to journey with me after this adventure was over, and showed reluctance to return to the Order, I would consider training them, which was what I assumed the hint of a creation of a follow-up quest was based around. Plus, I couldn't deny that the prospect of having Force-capable allies around my age with me wasn't a tempting one.

For a long time, I had felt the first to join me in such a capacity would be Serra, especially after our relationship evolved into a romantic one. However, after Naboo she'd been taken as Windu's Padawan and given we'd not spoken directly since, I couldn't be sure that she would still be willing to follow me along the path I was heading. If she did, that would be great as I missed having her at my side, but even then that would only mean her, me, and Anakin in this new group I was forming. Quinlan and Aayla would add two more bodies to that group; ones that I knew had fought in the Clone Wars directly in the other timeline. A comment I couldn't make about Serra as she'd never appeared on-screen in any media I'd seen. Still, I was going to wait until Aayla was found and saved before considering how to approach the A Change in Path quest.

As I neared the training area, the expected sound of lightsabers clashing with each other reached my ears, with the sounds growing much louder – and the sight of yellow colliding and moving around green greeting my sight as the door to the area slid open. I slipped inside quietly, not wanting to draw either from their spar. I could feel each drawing on the Force, and while he was younger and lacked the muscle memory that Quinlan retained, Anakin was the one shaping the Force to a greater degree.

He was moving impressively fast for one so young, more so than I suspected I had even after maxing out the old Force Speed power I'd had via the Interface. Even so, it was clear that, as had been the case each time they sparred, Quinlan was overwhelming Anakin. He might not be able to utilise his preferred Ataru-based style in the cramped conditions of the converted cargo hold, but his size, reach, and power meant that for all Anakin could draw on the Force to a greater degree – and thanks to the training since Naboo, with more refinement – my son was slowly losing the spar.

I leaned against the wall as the door slid closed behind me, watching the pair as they continued to spar. Yes, Anakin was again losing, but that was good for him. Not only did it teach him that he couldn't simply assume because he had a great reserve of Force potential to draw upon that he'd win every battle, but it allowed him to face off against someone who wasn't me. Now, I didn't go easy on Anakin, at least not as much as I might do if I didn't know what was looming less than a decade away, but he was still a child, not quite eleven yet, and there were limits to how I could push him.

Even with the cargo hold limiting his options, Quinlan was still able to draw on Ataru, using the wall and ceiling to bounce over Anakin, forcing my son to roll to one side to avoid Quinlan's blade as it swooped overhead. While I had adapted Ataru's footwork into my personal style as a way to overcome the handful of shortcomings Makashi had, I shared Dooku's distaste for the form. It was too flashy, too energetic, and grossly inefficient for conserving oneself in a pitched battle. If the terrain prevented the space needed to truly exploit the more advanced velocities, then the form became even more ineffective.

Now, in the hands of those who dedicated themselves to the form as I and Dooku had done with Makashi, then it could be a devastating form. Something that was seen in how Yoda could use it and his size to be a kriffing nightmare on the battlefield. However, it wasn't a style that appealed to me. Function over flash was what I preferred. That said, I still considered it a better base for most Jedi than low-level Niman; which sadly far too many Jedi used but never bothered to master even to a basic level.

In the hands of one skilled in the form, Niman had the potential to be incredibly lethal. Yes, it lacked the speciality of the previous forms, but it had none of their weaknesses and was a great base for using Force powers in battle, and I had slipped into elements of it at times when trying to adapt my Force powers into my combat style. However, for the majority of the Jedi, it was learnt simply because it was so karking basic and simple that they could devote their attention to other matters that appealed to them more.

In times of peace that was fine, but as proven on Geonosis in the other timeline, in battle that logic only got them killed faster than others. Seven Hells, as he was now, I felt Anakin could defeat a few newly christened knights who use Niman as their base but failed to give it the attention it, like any of the forms, deserved.

Quinlan landed with grace and his blade swept around preventing Anakin from advancing, showing that while he might not remember his training, the knowledge was ingrained into his mind. He then turned and came at Anakin using a series of quick, slightly in my opinion extravagant, sweeps and thrusts to overwhelm my son and drive the boy back. This spar was over, which was shown when Quinlan's blade came to a stop close to Anakin's head. The blades were set on low power so being struck by them would only sting badly, but still Anakin had lost. My complaint was that Quinlan could've ended the spar mere seconds after I entered the room, and then a dozen times after that before he finally did. Now, perhaps he was seeking to train Anakin and maybe remained uncertain of his actions, but it was a flaw that against a more experienced opponent would cost him a battle. As had been the case every time we had sparred since leaving Ord Mantell.

Anakin's eyes widened as he saw Quinlan's blade close to his head and then his shoulders slumped. In the Force, I could feel his annoyance at losing, though I was pleased to see that any anger at another defeat was minor and quickly pushed away and forgotten. There was no point in dwelling on losing a training match.

Quinlan powered down his blade and moved closer to the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You fight well, and your Master has done an excellent job in bringing you up to your current level in such a short amount of time. However, you lack the size, strength, and reach to truly use the techniques you want to use, and as such, it leaves you open against more experienced opponents."

I chuckled at Quinlan mirroring my words about his style as he spoke to my son. "That will change with age," I said as Anakin realised I was there, and I shifted against the wall. Anakin's face brightened at hearing my words, and I was glad once again that Quinlan was missing much of his training of the Force otherwise he might sense that the bond between my son and me was more than just a simple Master-Padawan bond. Of course, since he was hellbent on finding Aayla, even going so far as to reject retraining as a Jedi for the time being, he wouldn't exactly have solid ground to stand upon to question the depth of my bond with Anakin.

"How goes your mediation?" Quinlan asked, his thoughts instantly turning to Aayla, helping to prove my point.

"The Force is still reluctant to help," I replied, trying to not sound as vague as many Jedi were when they spoke about the Force. "While seeking guidance from the Force was never my forte, it has gotten harder for me to do so since Naboo," I explained, glossing over why that was. "I'm not giving up though, I just think I might have to try something a little more… unorthodox," I added slowly, my mind playing over an idea that had been growing stronger ever since leaving Ryloth.

It was clear to me that using Jedi techniques wasn't getting me anywhere, and with the shroud that the Banite Sith had placed over the Force limiting my ability to peer through the Force for answers even more, I wondered if I should instead use the veil for help. The issues with that were that I had little idea of how to peer into the Force and demand it reveal what I wanted and that the Banite Sith might sense my actions and use it in some way to either track me or influence my actions. Maybe even both.

For the former issue, the obvious way to correct that problem was to speak with Adas. However, I was reluctant to do so as I knew I was turning to him too much for answers, that activating the holocron would be sensed by Quinlan, and that Adas might sense Quinlan's presence as well. I'd rather not risk Quinlan mentioning that presence of something so steeped in the Dark Side in my possession to the Council if he returned to the Jedi, and I didn't want Adas considering teaching another his methods.

For the Banite Sith, the pair might well be able to sense when someone used the Dark Side and attempted to pierce the shroud they'd created to engulf the Force and limit the ability of the Jedi and others to see into possible futures. If that was the case, and I was leaning toward it being probable, then they could, in theory, use the shroud to try and influence me. Potentially furthering the idea that one or both had to either make me into their minion, or possibly even their apprentice.

While I felt they knew I was, as the Council would put it, tainted by the Dark Side after my last visit to Coruscant – I knew the defences I'd created to hide my presence and usage of the Dark Side, while good wasn't enough to ensure the pair of Sith ruling the Republic couldn't sense something amiss – I'd rather not give them an opening, or another one at least, to tempt me to their side.

What was amusing was that, in many ways, I might already be an apprentice to a Sith Lord. Oh, Adas had never used such terms whenever we'd spoken, but I felt that was how he was beginning to see me. Though, unlike Sidious and Plagueis, he wasn't showing me the way of the Banite Sith, but those of the true Sith, and by that I meant the species and forerunners to the Sith Order that was created by exiled Jedi who ended up on Korriban millennia ago.

That, however, was something I could think about in greater depth at another time.

Pushing myself from the wall, I moved towards my son and Quinlan, getting the impression Anakin had something to say.

"Um…" the boy began slowly, uncertain if he should speak up. A gentle smile and rolling of my hands encouraged him to continue. "Well, Qu… Master Quinlan is from Kiffu, right? Wouldn't Aayla know that simply from looking at him and seeing the tattoo on his face and then searching the Holonet?"

I paused for a moment, considering Anakin's idea. "That is possible," I replied slowly, weighing the idea in my mind. "However, facial tattoos are not unique to the Kiffar. Still, they are one of the more prominent groups to use such markings, at least from what I know," I glanced at Quinlan who nodded slowly, uncertain in his confirmation. "But, as we've got little else to go on, and it's not too hard to alter our flightpath once we exit hyperspace next, it's worth a visit."

"Yes, and even if Aayla is not there, my great-aunt, who is the current Sheyf of the Guardians, might have some new clues to help us find Aayla. Or possibly ways to help me regain my memories." Quinlan smiled as he spoke and then offered a small bow to Anakin. "My thanks for the idea, Padawan, and for pointing out something we adults should've thought of."

Anakin frowned for a second before returning the bow. Almost as if he didn't think what he'd said was worth the thanks. That made me chuckle before I pushed myself off the wall and moved closer to the pair. "From what Raven's telling me, we've got a few hours before we're due to exit hyperspace," I tapped at my gauntlet transferring the new destination to Simvyl so that, if I weren't there he could input the coordinates into the hyperspace computer. "So how about to kill time we have another spar?" I asked Quinlan as I unclipped my hilt from my belt.

Quinlan considered my request for a moment before nodding. "Yes, that is a good way to keep relearning what I have forgotten."

"And it might help us clear our thoughts before we next mediate," I added as Anakin fist-pumped in excitement at getting to watch Quinlan and I spar again. So far I'd won every spar with ease which wasn't a surprise given Quinlan's mental state. However, I felt that I could take him most of the time even if he hadn't lost his memories. He had never struck me as someone as advanced in Ataru as needed to be my equal as I was now, but I understood that sometimes luck played a factor in who won.

Quinlan activated his blade and slipped into a standard Ataru opening stance. I mirrored him, though my lightsaber gave the familiar and comforting little roar it always did as power flowed into the blade, and after a little flourish that while impractical was something that worked with Makashi, I settled into my opening stance.

As I waited for Quinlan to move, letting him have the first attack, I couldn't help but smile at how good it felt to have my lightsaber in my hand again. Yes, the hand was now mechanical, but it and the blade were a part of me and with the blade ignited, I felt whole again in ways that I'd not realised I'd missed until the new crystal had been created.

… …

---

… …
The swirling exotic energies of hyperspace slipped away as Raven slid back into normal space. My fingers flew over her controls as she scanned the nearby space and system, confirming we were in the right location. I smiled as it was confirmed we were in the system containing Kiffu and Kiffex; the homeworlds of the Kiffar sub-species and also where Quinlan was born.

"I know I have said it before, but this ship of yours is something special," the man in question remarked from the co-pilot's seat. "To be able to sense her in the Force, and you say interact with her, is something I would not believe possible if I was not currently here to, however abstractly, experience."

"That's something every Force user who's been aboard Raven has commented on," I replied with a chuckle as the long-range sensors reported their initial data. "Looks like we've got no orbital structures near the planets," which wasn't a shock as the two worlds often crossed close enough that, according to the Holonet, electrical storms could reach from the surface of one world to the other, "though there are ships of various sizes moving around Kiffu." If I didn't know that Kiffex was used as a prison world by the Kiffar, I might find that odd. "Are you sure Sheyf Tinte will be willing to help us?"

Quinlan had revealed that Sheyf Tinte was both his great-aunt and a member of Clan Vos, but from how he spoke about their last meeting – before Quinlan had gone to Ryloth and killed Pol Secura – it seemed she disliked him still seemingly choosing the Jedi over his people. So much so that I was considering not mentioning I was a Jedi to her. However, I knew Quinlan wouldn't see a need to hide that, nor did I want him lying to his aunt for my sake.

"It is likely she will," Quinlan replied slowly. "We have confirmed from the Force that Aayla is, if not here already, then on her way, and while my great-aunt dislikes the Jedi, she will help as we are the same clan and that matters to her."

I nodded in acceptance of his reply, and as Raven moved quickly towards Kiffu, I turned my thoughts back a few days.

After Anakin's suggestion about Aayla coming here based on Quinlan's facial marking, I had meditated again on Aayla. The Jedi approach had been as unresponsive and unproductive as ever. However, after taking the time to find my centre and draw forth my focused fury, I had demanded that the Force confirm that Aayla might come here. In that instance, it had relented and granted me glimpses of something that had or would happen, confirming Aayla had some connection to the worlds Raven was now soaring towards.

I'd seen flashes of two ships fighting over twin worlds, and then an escape pod from the destroyed vessel landing on one of those worlds. A Rutian Twi'lek had emerged from the pod, and while I couldn't be a hundred per cent certain that it was Aayla I was seeing, I felt certain it was. Something that only grew stronger when Quinlan confirmed the markings I'd seen on one of the ships – the one that survived – were those of the Guardians of Kiffu and that the planets I described were those of Kiffu and Kiffex.

There had been two unexpected events relating to the meditation, however. The first had been not being able to confirm it was Aayla who emerged from the pod. Something on the planet, something powerful, dark, and dangerous was partially blocking her from my sight, and I lost Aayla as she neared what appeared to be a jungle on the otherwise arid world.

Who or whatever was blocking me was, while incredibly powerful, also paradoxically weak as hell. So much so that I wasn't sure I was dealing with another Force user. Or that was the case until the quest linked to this mission added a new condition requiring me to defeat whoever was controlling and manipulating Aayla, and granting 6000XP for doing so. The wording of that objective – to eliminate them – made clear that unlike with Bo and Pre Vizsla, I couldn't turn this sentient to my side, but given that they were controlling Aayla, I didn't have any issue killing them, not when doing so granted me a Test of Friendship with Quinlan. At least if I was able to save Aayla in the process.

The second surprising part about the meditation when drawing on the Dark Side was how long I'd stayed in communion with the Force. What had felt like only a few hours had been nearly two days, which while not unusual was far longer than I usual was in meditation. Adding that to the fact it hadn't felt anywhere near as long meant that while it had worked, I was reluctant to delve into a Dark Side meditation again, fearful that I might not emerge from it. As much as I'd prefer not to, as I turned to him far too much, I needed to speak with Adas about the matter, but with Quinlan onboard that wasn't currently possible.

A beeping from the communications console drew my attention as we neared Kiffu, and I opened the channel.

"Unknown vessel, you are approaching Kiffu which is under the protection of the Guardians. Identify yourself and the purpose of your voyage here." The speaker who appeared as a hologram was a young male remarkably similar to Quinlan, though their facial markings were the obvious difference.

I turned to Quinlan and indicated for him to respond. "This is Quinlan Vos along with Jedi Knight Cameron Shan," He said, removing any hope he might simply choose to not mention I was another Jedi. "We are here to speak with Sheyf Tinte regarding a personal matter."

"Quinlan Vos?" The man repeated with some surprise. "But we were told…" He trailed off before shaking his head. "We will contact the Sheyf and alert her to your arrival." The man paused again for a moment. "It is good you have returned home, Quinlan Vos. Something is wrong on Kiffex."

The channel closed before Quinlan could ask for further information, and once it had I turned to him. "Well, either we're in the right place, or we're about to be delayed sorting out whatever the mess down there is," I muttered as Raven logged the arrival of a location on Kiffu for us to land at. Along with that came a series of clearance codes that, I assumed, granted us some form of priority landing permission. However, with how limited the space lanes were around the planet, I wasn't sure such things were a massive issue. Certainly not when compared to most developed worlds, never mind an ecumenopolis such as Coruscant.

As Raven raced towards the planet, I felt Quinlan reach into the Force trying to locate Aayla. While he barely remembered the emotional connection to his memories of her, the bond they shared in the Force was strong so perhaps…

"Yes!" Quinlan said, cutting into my thoughts. "I feel she's close," he added as I opened his eyes and looked towards Kiffex. "However, something is wrong. The anger I can understand, yet there's something… sinister that has enveloped her."

I grunted, already aware of that but having to play ignorant. "Then who or whatever it is needs to be found and removed so we can free her from its control," I said as Raven brushed against the uppermost edges of Kiffu's atmosphere. Hopefully, after Sheyf Tinte gave us more information about whatever was happening on Kiffex.

… …

---

… …
"You have returned to us once more, Quinlan Vos," an old woman said as I followed my fellow Jedi into a large, open room with clear views of much of the capital city of Kiffu. "And this time you bring a Mandalorian with you. An improvement, if only a small one."

The architecture of the planet was interesting, and the Guardian who'd met us at the landing platform and escorted us to this chamber – to this old woman I assumed with Sheyf Tinte – had been more than happy to explain why it was this way. Due to the massive electrical storms that occurred when Kiffu and Kiffex aligned, the buildings had to be designed to withstand them, while also being able to capture the energy of the storms to power the planet's infrastructure. It was an interesting approach to the issue, and one that worked for the Kiffar, though they were smart enough to have backup generators and power stations on the chance the storms didn't generate enough energy, or the people needed more for some unforeseen reason.

"This is Cameron Shan, Sheyf Tinte," Quinlan said, introducing me and confirming the old woman was his great-aunt and the current leader of the Guardians of Kiffu. "While he might not dress as one, he is a Jedi like myself." I smirked at that, knowing full well that I wasn't like Quinlan; either before he lost his memory or after.

Tinte's gaze turned to me, and I bowed slightly, "Sheyf Tinte," I said gently, making sure the lightsaber at my hip was clearly visible.

"As Quinlan Vos says, you do not dress like a Jedi," Tinte remarked.

I scoffed loudly. "Why would I want to?" I replied. "Have you seen how they dress? Like paupers and with no understanding of the need for armour in battle."

Tinte's lips twitched at my comment as if she found my response amusing. However, she didn't reply to me and returned her full attention to Quinlan. "You have still not found your Twi'lek Padawan?"

Quinlan stepped toward Tinte. "No. However, thanks to the Force, we believe that she's come to either Kiffu or Kiffex."

Tinte lifted a hand to her wrinkled chin and pondered his words. "Then it seems the Force has guided you here just as your people need your help," She said slowly. "Less than a week ago one of our larger security fortresses on Kiffex, from which we monitored many of the prisoner settlements, went dark. As is procedure, a search team was dispatched after they missed two check-ins. They reported that everyone in the fortress was dead, but the rest of their transmission was garbled, and we remain uncertain as to what has happened." She leaned forward and fixed Quinlan with a hard stare. "I requested the Jedi Council send you to help, but they claimed you were unavailable; handling another assignment the Council deemed critical." I grunted at the bare-faced lie. "They offered to send another Jedi, but I will not tolerate one not of the Kiffar helping us. Only you are permissible to the Guardians to help investigate this matter."

"The Council… lied," Quinlan said slowly as I sensed a shift in the Force around him: as if he was losing more faith in the Order. "I have not been an active member of the Jedi Order for some time now. Not since I was last here and you directed me to Ryloth to seek out my Padawan."

"The Jedi often lie," Tinte remarked, drawing another, louder grunt from me.

"No argument there," I muttered.

Tinte's gaze shifted to me. There was the faintest of movements in the Force, as she could sense something through it before she offered me an amused smile. "I suspect you are not aligned with the Council?"

I chuckled. "That's one way to put it," I answered. "I've had a handful of run-ins with them as a Padawan, and as I'm now a Knight I've chosen to simply… ignore their summons whenever I can." I paused and gently reached out into the Force, seeking a hint of why something felt off about this meeting. "However, that isn't why we are here, nor why Quinlan has come seeking your help as you wish for his. You want him specifically, and not just because he's from your clan and a Kiffar."

"Distant from your Council you might be, but you have the insight of a Jedi," Tinte responded slowly, with I noted far less of the distaste she had held a few moments ago when I'd been introduced as a Jedi. She turned back to Quinlan as she continued. "Your psychrometric heritage, your birthright as a member of Clan Vos, is the strongest ever recorded. I had hoped that you could learn something from the fortress that the search failed to discover before their deaths. We need to know who, or what attacked the fortress. I cannot risk any other Guardians on the planet until this matter is resolved, and as such all outposts and fortresses across the prison planet are now abandoned; though the Guardians made sure to remove their weapons and such equipment before they returned home."

As she spoke, I felt there was something she was keeping from us, and on the chance it might reveal it, I used Observe on the Sheyf.

Tinte Vos
Race: Kiffar
Level: 31
Health: 100%
Age: 72
Force Potential: Low
Threat Potential: Low
Reputation: Disliked
Affiliation Loyalty: Guardians of Kiffu (100%), Clan Vos (95%) Tinte Vos (90%)
Emotional State: Grateful/confused/concerned.
Tinte is glad to see her grandnephew has returned to Kiffu, and that he seems to be at odds with the Jedi Order. Once the matter on Kiffex is resolved, she hopes she might be able to exploit this to bring Quinlan back under her control.
However, she is confused as to your presence, not least why you wear the armour of a people often at odds with the Jedi.
She is also fearful of what is happening on Kiffex. While not trained to use the Force, she can feel there is something wrong happening on the planet and wants the issue resolved quickly before it threatens Kiffu and her people.
...​

Nothing useful came from it, save that her loyalty to herself, while exceedingly high, was overridden by that towards her clan and the Guardians. It had to be from the loyalty to Clan Vos that she was so accommodating to Quinlan, and why she disliked the Jedi so intently for taking him from his clan when he was a child. Apart from that, there was nothing to hint at why I felt there was something off about the Sheyf, or that she was withholding something that might be important to Quinlan or his mission to find Aayla.

"As this issue is possibly linked to Aayla's believed appearance on the planet, we will investigate the matter, Sheyf Tinte," Quinlan said after a second or two considering Tinte's words.

Tinte frowned. "No. Only you will go to Kiffex. He is a Jedi."

I stayed calm, pushing aside any irritation at her branding me with the same label she applied to the Council even as Quinlan took a step closer to her and I saw his hands clench. "Cameron will be going with me, Sheyf. While younger than me," Tinte blinked in surprise at that reveal though as I wasn't wearing my helmet, I'd have thought that would be something she'd have noticed was only about a month past my nineteenth birthday after all, and while broad, I still had a youngish looking face, "he is my friend. More than that, it was he who confirmed through the Force that Aayla is on Kiffex, and I know I need his help to find her and solve the mystery of what happened to your Guardians."

Tinte held Quinlan's gaze for a few moments before turning to look at me. Her eyes drifted over my armour, taking that in before she stared into my eyes as if searching for something in my soul. "Why are you helping Quinlan?"

"Honestly, he's not a friend if that's what you want to hear," I replied carefully. "However, when I was once captured by a Dark Side cult, he was one of those who came to rescue me, disobeying the Council in the process. His Padawan was also there, and she is one of my oldest friends. We were Initiates at the Temple together and she was one of the first to become my friend after the Jedi took me in later than they normally would." I knew that Quinlan had also been a late addition to the Order as his memories showed him with his parents when he was perhaps six or seven, so stating that I was also a late arrival to the Order might sway Tinte. "For her, for anyone I consider a friend, there is little I wouldn't do to help them in their hours of need. Nor to repay a debt of honour," I finished, gesturing at Quinlan to make clear that was a factor in my choice to help him, figuring it might further alter Tinte's opinion on whether I could accompany Quinlan to Kiffex. Oh, I was going one way or another, but I'd rather do it with permission than without if at all possible.

"You know of this debt?" Tinte asked Quinlan.

"I have a few fleeting memories of what he speaks of, but I can't confirm the details."

Tinte tapped her chin, and I felt a gentle shifting of the Force; as if, even with her low potential she was able to get a faint read on others through it. "Very well," She eventually said, "I shall permit you to accompany Quinlan to Kiffex."

I lowered my head as I replied. "My thanks, Sheyf Tinte."

She grunted. "I suspect that even if I had forbidden you, you would've found a way to go anyway."

"I'd prefer not to answer that," I responded, drawing a crackling laugh from the Sheyf. "Since I have permission, I must ask a favour. I have a Padawan myself, but he is far too young to risk against whatever is happening on Kiffex. Might I ask that he, and a creature I have a Force connection to, remain on Kiffu with my vessel while I and my other companions move to help Quinlan?"

Tinte frowned. "Your Padawan will be my honoured guest, and your ship placed under the protection of the Guardians while you are on Kiffex. However, these companions of yours, are they more Jedi?"

"No. One is a Cathar member of the Antarian Rangers, the other a combat droid." HK would be insulted at being called just a simple combat droid, but the less Sheyf and others knew of his capabilities, the longer it would be before people started asking questions. Especially with the second of the KOTOR trilogy, Shadows of the Sith due to be released in a month or so and HK, or a close facsimile of him, was part of the cover art.

As for bringing Simvyl, I felt I needed to. While I had forgiven him for what had happened with Anakin and the Trandoshans, I'd been reluctant to have him accompany me since. This mission was an effective way to overcome what I knew was irrational distrust of him that lingered within me and prove to him that I wasn't sidelining him. It would also let both of us see how the training of the last twenty or so months had improved him, as bar the Shapers, he had trained with the other groups and sects we'd headed to. Yes, Observe told me he was up a level since Anakin's kidnapping, now sitting at Level 26, but I wanted to see the changes in him on the field of battle.

"I have encountered an Antarian Ranger before," Tinte said slowly as if measuring her words. "The Togruta was a noble being who showed respect for our ways. While it is strange to see a Cathar travelling with one who wears that armour, in the name of that Ranger I will permit the one with you and your droid to join you and Quinlan Vos on Kiffex." She leaned forward as she continued. "However, I must warn you. Kiffex serves as the main prison for the entire sector. Many of those sent there should never be allowed free and might be sentenced to death in other sectors. Anyone you encounter who is not a Guardian should be considered a threat."

"Good," I said with a chuckle that made Tinte blink and lean back. "Means I don't have to worry about collateral damage or innocents getting on the battlefield."

Tinte blinked again, and her head tilted to the right before she chuckled. "Not what I would expect a Jedi to say."

"I'm not your average Jedi."

… …

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… …
I stood at the back of the cockpit of the small Guardian patrol craft as it raced over the short distance between Kiffu and Kiffex. Quinlan was sitting in the co-pilot's seat while another Kiffar named Maritan Kas was at the helm. The Guardian hadn't spoken a word to me, or Simvyl and HK, since we'd boarded though he had talked in a few hushed whispers to Quinlan. Whispers that the microphones of my armour had picked up with ease, but which were all inconsequential to the mission.

Simvyl and HK were in the small craft's cargo hold, giving their armaments one final check. Normally, if I saw HK carrying the array of weaponry he was outfitted with for this mission I might ask him to leave some behind simply to avoid issues with local security forces as he looked like a one-droid wrecking crew. However, as Kiffex was a prison world, there were no Guardians currently alive on the surface, and what we were heading into was undoubtedly going to be more dangerous than I thought, then he might be slightly under-armed. The issue was he simply couldn't carry anything more, even with a full satchel on his back carrying an impressive array of spare clips for his various blasters and dozens of grenades and detonators.

To be fair, I was actually more heavily armed if I counted the array of explosives I held in my Inventory. After Naboo, Bo had helped me restock my supplies and I now carried enough explosives to take on an entire regiment of tanks single-handedly, and that was before considering what my armour contained or the fact I could command the Force.

Yet with the growing power in the darkness on Kiffex, I felt I might need every edge I had in combating it. While I felt stronger now than I had when I'd fought Maul on Naboo, and I was close to Level 32, I had yet to test myself outside of spars and training. This was going to be the first test of my increased power. Yet I also understood that the source of the darkness on Kiffex wasn't the only threat that awaited us there.

As the atmosphere of Kiffex filled the entire transparisteel window in front of us, I could sense the Force shifting violently and excitedly. Quinlan glanced my way for a moment, suggesting he felt it as well. Whatever awaited us on Kiffex felt like an inflexion point of some sort. Not just for me, Quinlan, and Aayla, but for others as well. As if how events played out on the planet would have a wider impact on the galaxy than I could currently comprehend.

My thoughts, as they often had since Sheyf Tinte had granted us permission to head to Kiffex, turned to the A Change in Path quest, and how events that were soon to happen might drastically affect the path Quinlan and Aayla walked. However, I wasn't going into this thinking about how I could manipulate events to my benefit, or at least not as a major factor in my reasoning. Focusing on the future at the expense of the here and now was a great way to get yourself into trouble or killed.

"We're approaching Kiffex," Maritan said, stating the obvious as the ship began to vibrate as we were buffeted by the winds of the planet's upper atmosphere. "When we are near the outpost, I won't land but hover. You and your team must jump out before I accelerate upwards."

Maritan spoke to Quinlan, working under the misconception that his fellow Kiffar was the one in command. I was willing to let it go as it wasn't a point worth explaining to the low-level grunt, but it still irked me to be so summarily ignored and dismissed by someone beneath me.

Still, the fact Maritan was unwilling to land was a hint of how seriously the Guardians were taking whatever was wrong on Kiffex. That was something I'd sensed from him and other Guardians on Kiffu before we'd departed and made clear how unusual and concerning whatever was happening was to them.

"Until we receive a clear signal from one of you, with the correct codes, no one will come to collect you. Is that understood?"

"Yes. "Understood." Quinlan and I replied together to the Kiffar's question, and I used that as a signal to leave the cockpit and gather in the cargo hold for a combat deployment. However, as Maritan spoke again, quieter this time, I slowed as I passed through the door of the cockpit.

"Quinlan Vos," the Guardian all but whispered though my armour easily picked up his words. "We… We were not able to collect the bodies of the fallen. We cannot honour them as we should. Do you understand?"

Even though my back was turned, the HUS recorded Quinlan placing a supportive hand on the man's shoulder. "I understand, Maritan Kas."

I exited there and waited for Quinlan to leave the cockpit as well before I spoke. "Rituals for the honoured dead?" I asked gently as we walked the short corridor to the cargo hold.

"Yes."

I nodded in acceptance of that and knew not to pry anymore into whatever ritual the Guardians had for those who fell in service. Entering the hold, I carried out a final check on my armour. Every addition to my gauntlets reported in the green while, unlikely to be needed as it was inside the armour, the extra features of my mechanical arm also reported as fully functional. At one hip rested my lightsaber with my beskad on the other while blaster pistols were also secured on the belt as there was always the chance that they might offer me a better option than my blades or the Force, though it was unlikely.

I closed my eyes and reached out into the Force, seeking the familiar presence of Anakin on Kiffu. Along with Fenrir, he wasn't happy about being left behind but had accepted that I wasn't going to change my mind. As penance for leaving him behind, I'd arranged for him to train with potential Kiffar Guardians and promised him that we'd enter a hyperspace race he'd seen on the Holonet that he felt Raven could win.

At the time of his request to enter the race, I'd accepted simply to appease him, yet with a day to think on the matter – at least when not planning for the mission – I'd changed my stance. I knew I wasn't that brilliant a pilot, nor did I have the natural inclination for flying that Anakin and others, such as Saesee Tinn, held, but I couldn't deny the idea of testing myself and Raven against others wasn't appealing. I didn't expect to win the race, but I was sure a kriff going to try. Even possibly using the Force and the depth of my bond with Raven to attempt to claim victory. However, for now, my thoughts were focused on Kiffex and finding and saving Aayla, so after sending a last impression to Anakin through the Force that I missed him and would be back soon, I brought my entire focus back to the cargo hold, those with me, and the mission.

After a day to prepare, we were as ready as we'd ever be, yet at the same time, I felt that only I could challenge and take down the source of the darkness that was growing on Kiffex. I was now certain that it was a sentient, possibly a Dark Jedi or another who used the Dark Side without being any form of Sith, and that they were powerful enough to be a threat.

I had no proof of it currently, but I was sure this figure had exploited Aayla's rage at Quinlan and her lack of memories of her training to control and manipulate her. I felt we could break that hold once the Dark Sider was dead, but I hoped for Quinlan's sake that none of the Guardians at the fortress had died due to lightsaber strikes. Even if Aayla never chose to return to the Jedi, the Council would not allow her to wander the galaxy after striking down so many in anger.

The intercom clicked to life. "Get Ready," Maritan's voice echoed in the hold as I felt the craft slow.

Behind us, the hatch opened, and the dusty surface of the planet came into view. HK jumped first with me a half-second behind. Simvyl came down next followed by Quinlan, and as his boots struck the ground, sending up another blast of dust, the craft pulled away, sending more dust into the air around us, I looked around and groaned at what the HUD was reporting.

"So much for dropping us at the fortress," I muttered as the sensors confirmed we were a good five klicks, up a rather steep hill that lacked dirt covering it from the fortress.

Now, the location was great as it granted clear lines of sight of anyone approaching, at least on days when there weren't sandstorms and the like, and there was only one clear path to the fortress. However, that meant that, in theory, we'd have to hike up that path, exposing ourselves to anyone who might be in the fortress, or watching from elsewhere for anyone approaching the location.

As we started moving, and the HUD provided secondary routes to the fortress that while more direct weren't exactly easy if one couldn't call on the Force or powerful servomotors in their mechanical legs, I felt a shift in the Force. Whoever was behind the situation on the planet, and the one influencing Aayla, was aware of our presence, and a familiar tingle, that of us walking into an ambush, slithered down my spine.

"Something wicked this way comes," I whispered to myself, ensuring the words didn't carry over the Battlenet or out of my helmet.

"You feel it too?" Quinlan asked quietly, drawing my attention. "What does it mean?" He asked after I nodded in confirmation.

"That we're walking into a trap," I replied with a chuckle. "So how about we spring it and see who's waiting for us?"

… …

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… …
A/N: For those who are aware, this 2-chapter arc is based on events from the Darkness arc of the Star Wars Republic comic.

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This story is cross-posted on Fanfiction.net, Archive of our Own, and Royal Road.
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Regardless if you join the discord or support my writing, I hope you enjoy the story and suggestions, valid criticisms, and ideas are always welcome.
And of course;

May the Force be with you. Always​

 

[MacShimi]

"Looks like we've only no orbital structures near the planets,"

Click to shrink...

This passage was unintelligible. It looks as though there may either be a missing section or the need to rephrase. My best guess is that you intended something like "Looks like we've detected no orbital structures near the planets…" or "Looks like no orbital structures near the planets…" or "Looks like there are no orbital structures near the planets…"

Another fine chapter. I look forward to the next one. Thanks for your efforts.

 

[JohnSmithMIB]

Cameron did such a great job at preventing Dooku from forming a schism within the Jedi that Cameron has now become the seed for a schism.

I'd have enjoyed seeing him try to make an artificial crystal with the more positive emotions a handful of additional times with improvement and learning as he went on. It's clear though that his mind isn't quite where he needs to be for making the best decisions even though his control is improving.

It'll be sweet when Incom or Mandalmotors rolls out Anakin's family of Snubfighters. Lokella, Allied Mando Clans, and Jedi could all get kitted out. Since a X-wing was around 150k credits napkin math suggests a small line should be possible for under 200 million credits (7% manufacturer profit/fighter, 5 fighters a day, 10 year payback period, no interest). If it doesn't scale that low the profits required for a 1 billion dollar facility would suggest a line that could make 25 fighters a day after they got production sorted. It'd tie up more money than that but as far as actual costs goes it's not bad.

Each group gets a handful for evaluation and Cameron sets up a deal that guarantees he can buy 300 a year at a low margin for like 20 years. This guarantees minimum stable production for logistics, gives Cameron access to 6000 fighters to pass around, squirrel away, or sell, and should cost less than 2 billion credits total. Who could say how the costs would shake out in a partnership since Anakin massively shortened the R&D cycle and could get some profit per fighter made. Highly profitable matters less for the Mandalorians than the strategic benefits they'd get from having these, making them natively, and creating well paid stable jobs. Couple that with an Anakin Kom'rk design for small shuttle or armed transport duties and elite forces or insurgents would be set for small craft.

As for this chapter, Aayla and Quinlan with more Anzati techniques sound like just the menace the galaxy needs.