A New Player in the Force

Sensing the volley of blaster bolts before the sound of the shots had even ended, I ducked under them. There was no need to deflect them with a lightsaber when it was easier to avoid them, plus that left me able to jump the second they passed by and use the Force to boost my jump to carry me into the higher branches of a nearby tree. The ground behind where I’d been standing exploded as the volley slammed into it, but I’d leapt high enough to avoid the dust cloud that had been kicked up.

“I thought this was just a friendly spar?” I shouted into the sky, towards my fully armoured and flying opponent. While I didn’t need to shout since we had open comlinks to each other, I was hoping the sudden loud voice might catch them off-guard.

Bo’s laughter came back to me through the link. “It is.” She replied even as I was forced to jump from my current branch to one in a tree about a dozen metres away because she began to pepper the first tree with blaster fire. “But you agreed to full contact rules.” She added on as I caught the new branch, then swung, flipping through the air, and landed on a third branch.

I grumbled at that as, in my drive to get her come out of her funk, I’d promised this once we were finally planet-side; something that took three weeks as the world we were on, Aesolian – was so far out in the boondocks that the Holonet only provided a brief description of the planet and general location of where to find it. While this fitted with what my masters had promised of an isolated world, it was also useful for helping Bo let out a ton of the anger that had built within her in the three weeks it had taken to reach this place. Barring a few isolated farming communities, the closest of which was half-a-day’s hike from where we’d landed our ship, the planet was uninhabited. After a day on-planet, we hadn’t encountered any local fauna that might be dangerous, but if we did something told me it would just be another way for Bo to release her pent-up anger.

“I thought that meant we wouldn’t be pulling our punches, not you trying to kill me!” I shot back as I dropped down from my current branch moments before it was turned into splinters by another volley of blaster fire from Bo. “Nor use that damned jetpack to attack me from above!”

Said pack was one of two going away presents left for Bo by her father. While that, and the full beskar armour forged from Bo’s mother’s armour, hadn’t been enough to fully placate Bo – she was still promising to punch Adonai when they next met – it had cooled her down enough that the second week of travel hadn’t required me to spend my time avoiding a furious redhead looking to murder me.

For that second week, I only saw Bo at mealtimes with her spending the rest of the week locked away in her room, but in the third week she’d finally come out. After giving a weak apology for her behaviour, she’d shown me her armour and the jetpack and once she realised that we’d be heading to this planet, and how isolated it was, she’d extracted the promise that now had me dodging she bolts as she flew high above the trees and peppered the ground with blaster fire.

“This is what full contact is to Mando’ade!” She countered, her enjoyment easy to hear in her voice.

I ignited my lightsaber and swatted away her latest volley of fire. While the bolts were, I hoped, set to a lower power setting given that I was just in my Jedi robes, they’d likely still hurt. Plus, as much as I would never admit this to Bo, this was a good way to not only improve my ability with Soresu and Shien, but to see what elements of the forms I could adapt into my personal style.

Two of my deflected bolts went whizzing back towards her, but they bounced harmlessly off her new armour, which made her laugh.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” She snarked even as she continued to pepper me with blaster fire. “Or is facing a full Mandalorian with a jetpack the limit of your abilities?”

I scowled at her teasing, though I wasn’t really irritated. After three weeks of dealing with angry, frustrated or bored Bo, seeing her let loose and enjoy herself was a relief. Still, I couldn’t let the challenge go unanswered.

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I replied.

I ignored her latest burst of fire and pulled the Force into me. The world around slowed down and, as I tracked the individual bolts as they moved far slower than before, almost like they were crawling. I moved easily around the bolts, letting them sail harmlessly past me, before accelerating towards a tree under Bo.

Her blaster fire followed, but even with her helmet tracking my movements – something I’d learnt it could do during Bo’s excitement to tell me about her new armour and jetpack – I was able to outpace the bolts. Once close to the tree, I leapt, planted a foot on the trunk and used the Force to leap high into the air.

I brought my blade above my head, planning to land a blow to a critical area of the armour. By the few terms we’d agreed on beforehand, that would signal victory for me and end the duel. However, while I was in mid-air, Bo turned and aimed a gauntlet at me.

The Force called out a warning, and I brought my lightsaber down to defend, however with me being airborne, and unused to fighting in such a location, I was a fraction slow.

“Oof!” I grunted out as my momentum towards Bo was stopped as a metallic cable impacted my chest and lashed around my upper torso. While it didn’t make me drop my lightsaber, it did trap my arms against my body.

A further warning from the Force had me phasing through the cord the moment it wrapped itself around me, saving me from a nasty shock as the cable electrified.

I landed in a roll, avoiding another volley of blaster fire, and countered by sending a concentrated blast of the Force towards Bo. While she was able to dodge it easily, it gave me time to reset my stance.

“Right, no more mister nice guy.” I muttered before I reached out and grabbed Bo’s ankle with the Force.

While I couldn’t see her face due to her helmet, I sensed her shock as she was suddenly pulled down hard towards the ground. A smirk crept onto my face as she slammed into a tree, forcing one of her pistols to fall from her hand, then bounced off a branch as I dragged her down.

She impacted the ground with enough force to send a small cloud of dust into the air, but that didn’t bother me. With the Force to guide and show me where to go, I was moving towards her the moment she impacted the ground, my smirk having grown into a full-blown smile as I did.

… …

… …

“Why didn’t you use your beskad?” I asked as we sipped on some water after finishing our spar. As I’d expected, once I’d gone all out I’d had no problem winning the spar, but there were a few moments where, in hindsight I felt Bo could’ve taken the initiative; mainly by drawing her beskad as a counter to my lightsaber. Oh, I’d have still won, but that would’ve at least given her a slight chance of scoring a lucky hit or two.

Bo glared at me from over the top of her canteen, then glanced down at her waist where the weapon hung. Nothing verbal came, but from the slight shift in her shoulders I had a suspicion about why she’d not used it.

“Look, how about later, once I’m done with meditating, I will show you some basic lightsaber velocities,” I said. Her brow creased and she lowered the canteen, but I kept going to prevent her from shooting my idea down before I explained it. “I’m well aware that a beskad isn’t a lightsaber. However, the most basic lightsaber fighting styles, Shii-Cho and Makashi - which is what Master Dooku specialises in –, are based off of grounded blade work. I’ve already adapted some of the velocities for when I train with my beskad.”

“I thought you weren’t allowed to train with that,” Bo asked as she resecured the cap on her canteen.

“I am, but only under supervision from Master Dooku,” I replied as I recapped my canteen. We both then attached them to our belts as I continued. “I might not like it, but any time to train with it is better than none.”

“I guess,” Bo muttered before turning and beginning the short walk back to the Ne’tra Sartr. While Bo, Fay and Dooku all thought I’d chosen the name as a reference to my verd’goten – and though they weren’t entirely wrong – there was a double meaning. In Basic the name meant Black Pearl and while I didn’t see myself as being at all like Captain Jack – I'll leave that to Hondo – I did like the name of his beloved ship.

As we rounded the final corner and the dark metallic frame – with sections coloured dark purple courtesy of Adonai – of the ship came into view, I felt my heart skip a beat once more. This was mine. Oh sure, there were technicalities that meant the official ownership wasn’t with me, but those didn’t matter. The Sartr was mine, and every time seeing her and realising that made me happy inside. I remembered how I’d felt when I’d gotten my first car – an old 2005 Ford Focus – but this was… several orders of magnitude greater.

This prototype version was a fair bit longer than the transports featured in The Clone Wars, and MandalMotors had clearly done its best to meet Adonai’s expectations. After living amongst them for so long, I was well aware that the Kom’rk-class was not a traditional Mandalorian design, both in terms of structure and definitely in terms of armament. I had little doubt that the angular and stylish design of the hull was commissioned by the New Mandalorians, but MandalMotors seemed to understand that the baseline design that they were given was paltry to what one of the last True Mandalorian Dukes would merit, and had done their best to bring it up to combat standards.

Instead of the single dual laser cannon on the nose, the ship now sported four banks of Laser cannons across both the dorsal and ventral rear wing sections. The front tips of the outer wings had been converted into missile launchers, while the mandibles had been outfitted with proton torpedo launchers. The dual laser cannon on the nose had been replaced with a heavy quad turbolaser turret, with supplementary dual turbolasers running longwise along the wings. As we passed under the structure, I also noted the two mass driver cannons that had been affixed to the underside of each wing.

As much as my masters would scold me for admitting it, I’d fallen in love with the ship the moment I’d first laid eyes on it. Now when I’d been reborn, I’d wistfully dreamed about getting the Millennium Falcon like most fans would, but that ship was a freighter. This…was not. The Ne’tra Sartr was as close to a pure combat ship as it could get without having been structurally designed as such.

“Do you two want a moment alone?” I turned to see Bo watching me, an amused smile dancing on her face with her hair caught in the breeze.

“Sorry. I’m still enjoying the fact I have a ship to myself.” I explained, which made her smile grow.

“Aye, I know. Just weird seeing you this… starstruck,” she shook her head, making her hair fly around even more. She took a step closer then sniffed the air and made a face. “Come on, I need something to eat, and you need a shower.” She pulled back and turned, walking towards the ramp leading into the Sartr.

I chuckled at her behaviour, then after giving my ship one last look over, followed her.

… …

… …

“We have been over this many times already, Cameron,” Fay replied to the query with far more patience than I likely would’ve shown in her place. “The Dark Side of the Force is not something to be trifled with, or even deeply studied. It only takes one serious mistake before your path is forever clouded by the Dark Side.”

“I am aware of that, Master. However I’m not sure why certain abilities are considered to be ‘Dark Side’,” I explained, using my fingers to place air-quotes around my last two words as we sat cross-legged and facing each other on a hill not far from the Ne'tra Sartr. Bo was currently onboard in her quarters, thus probably working on her armour, jetpack or weapons while Dooku was somewhere to the south having left for a walk a few hours ago.

This conversation – one of two that happened daily – along with thrice-daily meditation sessions, had been a regular part of my day since we’d left Mandalore. We’d been on Aesolian for a few weeks now and save for my sparring sessions with Bo – where I regularly won – or my duels with Dooku – where I regularly lost –not much had happened.

Now, for the three weeks it had taken us to get here, I hadn’t asked questions about the Dark Side or the powers linked to it, but since arriving, I had. Not because I wanted to become a Sith – both visions in the crystal cave on Ilum still held little interest to me – but because I needed to understand the Jedi mindset. Now, while neither Fay nor Dooku were, in the current Order, conventional Jedi, Fay was at least, more traditional in her approach to how things should be done with regards to the Dark Side. Which was probably why these sessions were mainly handled by Fay as it saved Dooku from having to try to convince me on a few issues when he himself didn’t entirely agree with them.

“The Jedi High Council – be that the current one, or any previous incarnation of it for as long as the modern structure has existed – designates abilities and usages of the Force as Dark Side in nature due to their inherent intent to cause harm, alter the natural order of the living universe, or unbalance the Force.” Fay explained, once more sounding as if she was quoting from a rulebook. Which, in a sense, she was as the Jedi tenets were more than just the Code. The Code was meant as a guiding principle/centring mantra for Jedi while the tenets set down by the various councils were designed to govern the Order. “Yes, there are times when some of those abilities can be used in ways that do not violate those issues, however their primary applications are aggressive and destructive in nature.”

“So why aren’t powers like elemental manipulation classified as Dark?” I asked as I turned one palm upwards and ignited a small ball of fire in my hand. This was only something I’d realised I could do about a week ago during one sparring session with Bo. She’d finally broken out the trademark flamer that Mandalorians liked to use. I’d become semi-trapped in a small crevasse somewhere to the north, and instead of blocking the flames with a barrier, I’d tried to control them.

However, instead of simply stopping the flames as I’d expected, they’d almost taken on a life of their own and arched back towards Bo. She’d been unscathed by the incident – her temperature controlled armour being enough to prevent anything more than light scorching of her outer suit – and I’d stopped the flames an instant later, but from then on, I’d started spending more time with my kinesis powers to see what they could truly do.

“Fire is something that primarily destroys anything it touches, yet the ability to control and manipulate it isn’t something considered Dark.” I finished as the ball floated around my hand.

Honestly, I didn’t expect this line of questioning to lead anywhere, but I was curious how Fay would explain the apparent contradiction away. Mainly so that, when the time came, I’d know how to phrase things in my own mind when teaching others.

I felt another pull on the fireball in the force, and recognizing the presence as Fay’s, allowed her to take control of the flames. The small ball – no bigger than my fist – floated over to her hand and rested there as she replied. “While fire does indeed primarily destroy all it touches, that isn’t all it does. From the ashes of most naturally occurring fires, the land will be restored and regenerated and harnessing flames for warmth and cooking is a common thread in the ancient histories of many sentient species.” The fireball began to move around her hand, copying what I’d been doing, though I saw that she also had it spinning on its own axis as it did so. “Then there is the fact that without the stars, life as we know it could never have evolved.” She added with a smile as she pinched her index finger and thumb, and the flames vanished in a puff of smoke.

“Fire is a part of the natural cycle on most worlds, and yes while some worlds have too much or too little ‘fire’,” here she copied me again by making air quotes, “and chemical fires often don’t allow for the natural cycle of regrowth to begin again, on the whole the ability, as rare as it is for someone among our Order to use, is not one that violates the natural order of the universe.”

That explanation was close to what I’d expected; both as a way to explain how fire manipulation was acceptable to the Jedi and on how to explain it. Still, it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to see how I could use Pyrokinesis and the similar powers I had to fight, nor not use them as a method to probe about why certain other powers were considered ‘Dark’.

“The same also applies to the ability to control the winds or water,” she continued as I felt the Force around her swirl gently, as with a wave of her hand, a small sphere of water rose up from a nearby puddle and came to rest floating above her other hand. “Those are natural components of most planet’s weather cycles. However, the ability we term Sith Lightning has no value beyond a desire to destroy, hurt or kill. Now, the same basic purpose of Sith Lightning can be achieved by manipulating natural lightning, however that isn’t the main purpose of those abilities. Nor do they grow more powerful as they inflict pain on a target as Sith Lightning is known to do.”

“Understood.” I replied, which drew a small smile from her. I’d expected her counters, though maybe not for her to jump so quickly to Sith Lightning. I hadn’t been planning to bring that power up as I already had a decent understanding as to why that was a Dark Side power; though Fay’s words helped reinforce why it was regarded as such; and why what I’d done to the Trandoshan on Tatooine had so concerned my masters. Though, in my opinion, the walking lizard had it coming. Kriffing moron trying to take the one thing I had that linked me to Dooku and Fay earned a painful death.

“What about something else I came across in the Archives? There was a time when, supposedly, the Jedi and Sith used the Force to alter objects on a subatomic level.” I started slowly, wanting to hear her thoughts on that. I doubted she would let me train up Inanimate Conversion willingly but understanding why it was classed as Dark was something I was interested in. Mainly because the Archives hadn’t been forthcoming with an answer for a Padawan, which made perfect sense as – to use a mixed metaphor – you don’t teach children how to build nukes. “I understand the potential for abuse that exists there, however wouldn’t the ability to alter grass or leaves into bacta, or free someone pinned by durasteel by turning it into water or air be something a Jedi would wish to know?”

“It sounds as if you’re speaking of Force Alchemy,” Fay answered as her brow knotted slightly. “That is linked to our aversion to the disruption of the natural order. The idea of altering something in such a way violates some of the oldest tenets our Order holds itself to and was partially responsible for one of the early Great Schisms within our Order.”

That was something that had been hinted at in the history documents I’d studied during my short time as an Initiate, though the records were – on purpose I had to believe – vague. Though it seemed as if Fay wasn’t finished as she continued.

“There is also the issue that several species are, unlike most, descended from plants, rocks or other apparently inanimate sources.” She paused and looked to one side, a small smile coming to her face. “Do you remember Master Saa?” I nodded. “Her species, the Neti, evolved from plants. If a Force user did as you suggested, and altered grass into bacta, would a Neti such as Master Saa be able to hear and feel their pain? How would doing such a thing be any different, at least to such species, than altering the flesh of an animal while it is still alive?”

“It wouldn’t be, Master,” I answered, “and I understand your reasoning. I simply wished to know about what the ability entailed. The documents I studied were vague enough that my curiosity was piqued.” I explained, though the fact she started to frown meant she didn’t entirely believe me. “Don't worry, Master. I don’t ever plan to alter any living being in such a way,” I added, hoping to alleviate the concern that I was just beginning to sense and I was being honest.

While the ability to alter one thing into another via Inanimate Conversion had the potential to be very useful in the future, I had no interest in messing with something that was alive. Though I understood that that ability, and any Jedi-designated ‘Dark Side’ power I currently had, or could potentially learn in the future, would get me in serious trouble if it was discovered. Shab, the Jedi might even decide that, for the greater good, it was better if I was locked up for life – or worse, earn myself the attention of a strike team of Jedi Shadows – than to simply expel me from the Order.

“Very well. Now, let us return to the main point of today’s session.” I just barely managed to stop myself from groaning, but Fay must’ve picked up on my frustration as her lips twitched upwards. “I understand why you feel bored of the topic. We’ve been speaking on this topic daily for over a month. Yet I hope you understand why Master Dooku and I feel the need to repeat and reinforce the message is necessary; particularly before we meditate on the matter?”

“I need to, at the very least, learn how to temper my emotions, and understand why it’s needed, lest I run the risk of my emotions mixing with the Force. If that happens, then there’s a possibility that my darker needs, desires and impulses may bleed into the bond I share with the Force, corrupting both it and me.” I replied slowly. I felt I understood the reasoning applied by the Jedi in general, and my masters, in particular. Though I didn’t entirely agree with the approach that all emotions were dangerous; just that any carried the risk to make one prone to errors in judgement, yet that was true of anyone even if my ability to use the Force made such errors carry a far higher potential for chaos.

“While not perhaps how I would put it, that is a generally acceptable, if still incomplete, answer.” Fay responded after a short gap, giving me a soft smile as she did. She glanced past me, in the general direction of where the Ne'tra Sartr rested before continuing. “What is also true is that, due to your inclination with forming bonds with those around you, you are at risk not just from your emotions, but that of others as well. While all Jedi must learn to let go of these attachments – to ensure that they are in control of their emotions and not the reverse – you, I feel, will also have to be mindful that the emotions of others don’t lead you astray.” She paused and sighed. “While Master Dooku and I accept that you are still young, and weren’t raised in the Temple like most Padawans, the strength of your connection to the Force, and that time raised outside the Order means it is a concern that we feel needs to be continually addressed.

“And Bo being here isn’t going to help with that,” I added with a chuckle as the unmistakable sound of a blaster being fired somewhere close to the ship echoed around us. Slowly Bo’s boredom was becoming a factor, as beyond our spars, and the occasional time Dooku was willing to indulge her in a spar of their own – which never went well for Bo, but she didn’t complain – the girl was getting very, very restless. Kriff, yesterday morning I’d found her figuring out ways to make explosives from various components of the Ne'tra Sartr! While I could spend more time with her to help alleviate her boredom, between sessions with Fay and Dooku, developing my personal lightsaber style – which wasn’t showing in the Interface as it wasn’t considered a skill – working on the Ne'tra Sartr to improve my mechanical skills and speaking with HK about Revan and their adventures I barely had any time during the day to spare. Though perhaps there was a way to use HK to help with that issue.

While I was a long way away from being able to construct a droid body suitable to my (never mind HK’s) standards, Bo would surely have ideas for current military tech I could incorporate. While HK would know what he wanted, a lot of his weapon knowledge was millennia out of date, so having someone to help with that would certainly be useful.

Fay laughed serenely, drawing me from my ideas about how to deal with Bo’s boredom – and the potential danger it placed me in. “Yes and no. While miss Kryze being here is a distraction from your studies with Master Dooku and I, and thus makes it harder for you to focus on your Jedi training, having someone around whom you share a bond of friendship with maybe be of benefit in learning how to handle your emotions and the desire to help others with their problems instead of your own.” There was a pause as her smile took on a mischievous quality.

“It might also be useful in learning to control any desires you begin to feel. You are both young and growing, and Miss Kryze, when not trying to kill you in your sparring sessions, is certainly blossoming into an attractive young lady.” I felt my face erupt in a blush at Fay’s comment and opened my mouth to retort, but Fay kept going. “There is nothing wrong with such feelings, Cameron, nor that they could evolve between the pair of you. However, there is a risk to any Jedi that attachments formed from such feelings can place us in danger of the ever-present threat of the Dark Side. With Miss Kryze here and this being a controlled environment, we can use this as an exercise in controlling your desires and in not letting them determine your focus.”

While I wanted to retort, my mind had turned to thoughts of Bo. Barring that kiss on a dare, Bo hadn’t shown any interest in me, yet I couldn’t deny Fay’s words about her. I had a thing for redheads and strong women and Bo ticked both those boxes along with, for a teenager, being attractive.

All that made me sigh as I realised, irritably, that my second puberty was going to be so much kriffing fun.

… …

… …

“Answer: You are indeed correct master. That is when the creator, while suffering from the Jedi’s trickery, first met the whiny Jedi meatbag,” HK replied to my confirmation about when Revan and Bastila first ‘met’ on Taris. “Conjecture: I do often wonder if my creator would have been better served by leaving that Jedi in the cage, or at least in keeping her restrained. It would certainly have helped with dealing with her incessant whining about the Jedi and how they should do things.”

I chuckled as HK made his comment in response to my question about Revan’s time on Taris; specifically, when he discovered Bastila in the Black Vulkar base. Since arriving on Aesolian slightly over a month ago I’d been spending daily sessions with HK. Mostly these had been to see what he knew about the time when Revan, Bastila and their group took down Malak and to see how it tracked with what I remembered from playing the game. So far, there’d been a few minor details that didn’t align, and HK had been filling me in on other minor events that happened with the crew. Those normally happened during the downtime onboard the Ebon Hawk, and while most wouldn’t work in the retelling of KOTOR that I was planning to write, they were still interesting titbits to learn about.

We’d been going over the events on Taris, and while HK hadn’t been there directly, he had gotten most of the story from T3. Thus, I was getting a re-retelling of the events via two droids with HK offering observations on several incidents that had happened on-planet.

“Observation: Master, if I may be so bold, your knowledge about the key events of the creator’s exploits to take down his treacherous former friend and follower is far more detailed than I would have expected from someone in this era. Even taking into account your explanation of how you arrived in this time, there are still gaps in my logic patterns for explaining this. Conjecture: If I did not know better, I would speculate that you know more about the events we are discussing than you are letting on.”

“And if I do?” I asked, curious to see how the droid would react to my non-confirmation. It would serve both as a way to determine how intelligent HK truly was and how much loyalty he felt towards me.

HK was silent for a short while, likely as it considered hundreds of thousands of ways to phrase his response.

“Advisement: If that is the case master, then I would suggest being careful about when and to whom you reveal such knowledge until you are prepared. Addendum: The Jedi of this time seem to be just as blinkered about things that do not conform to their expectations and ideals as they were during the creator’s time. Indulgence: It will be so gratifying to witness their horror of realisation in their last moments of functionality. ”

I sighed and shook my head. “It certainly does seem to be the case that the Jedi are often inflexible when it matters. Though while we’re currently stuck in the middle of nowhere, I wouldn’t call either of my masters conventional, even if Master Fay is closer to the traditionalist camp than Master Dooku, and I’m far from being an ideal Jedi.” Which was a good thing as the Jedi of this era – at least in the timeline without me present – had missed a Sith Lord becoming Chancellor, orchestrating a war with the primary goal of weakening then destroying the Order and establishing an Empire that ruled over the broken remains of the Republic. Though even before that, it had become clear to me that over the last millennia the Jedi had retreated from the galaxy as a whole, and instead of trying to make things better, they’d tied themselves to the Senate’s coattails and worked on ‘keeping the peace’ as determined by generations of corrupt and misguided politicians.

“Assurance: Being anything but an ideal Jedi can only be a good thing, master. The Jedi as a whole, while potentially dangerous opponents, are restrained by their flawed ideals and lack understanding of how the galaxy works away from their ivory tower. Recollection: The Creator often spoke of how the Jedi had ‘become so blinded by their belief that the Force was all that mattered that they seemed to have forgotten that even those not able to become Jedi or Sith can influence the Force’. They focused on the abstract to such an extent that they neglected the present and tangible.”

“Aye, that’s still true.” I replied with a dejected nod. If the Jedi weren’t so inward-looking, I think I could, maybe, see myself staying in the Order for a long, long time. Sadly, that wasn’t the case, and I already had dozens of plans for the future where being in the Order and enacting those plans conflicted.

Still, if HK could see this then perhaps it was time to, if not outright reveal what I knew – as doing so wasn’t possible due to TPTB – then at least hint at it. And get HK to begin developing his own strategies for how to deal with what was to come. “Actually, I’ve been having… I wouldn’t say visions, but continual feelings that something dark and dangerous is lurking in the shadows.” I paused, playing up the dramatics to sell things to HK. “There’s a war coming. I can feel it in my bones, so to speak, and it's going to be big. Yet I fear the Jedi, or at least the overwhelming majority, with their inward-looking nature and willingness to blindly follow the Senate, wouldn’t see what is happening until it is too late.”

“Contemplative: From what I discovered on the Holonet when we still had access to it, that is certainly a possibility. Conjecture: There are several fracture events in the Republic – with most being in the Outer Rim – that, with a judicial application of external pressure, could erupt into war. These events could possibly be tied together to inflame a larger conflict; one capable of engulfing the entire Republic in glorious bloodshed. Admission: My servos are vibrating with the thought of so many meatbags to spill. Cautionary: It would be advisable for you to begin preparations for such a potential conflict, master. While I have only known you a short time, you appear far more attentive than most other Jedi I’ve encountered.”

“Well thanks, I think.” I chuckled. “Though I’ve already begun planning for it. After all, why else would I spend a year on Mandalore training with a group famous for knowing how to kill Jedi and Sith without the Force?”

Before anything else could be said the door beeped. I reached out through the Force and recognized the Force presence of the person outside my room, which I confirmed by checking my minimap. “We can continue this another time.” I said to HK before speaking louder. “Yes Bo?”

The doors slid open, and Bo stepped in. Her eyes had narrowed a touch, though what caught my attention was that she wasn’t wearing her armour – save for her gauntlets – and was dressed in only the beskar under-weave. That clung tightly to her limber frame and, as she unintentionally sauntered towards me, for the umpteenth time since that talk, my mind wandered back to Fay’s words about Bo and how her being here might affect me.

Kriffing stupid second puberty.

“So, I looked through the ship’s database and there’s a few things that might work,” she began as she slid onto the bed beside me, seemingly oblivious to the frown that had formed on my face at remembering Fay’s words. “The Westar 34 likely couldn’t be modified how you want, however the DE-10 could.” She continued as she slid a datapad onto the table in front of HK, turning it so the droid could browse what was onscreen.

There was a brief pause as HK scanned the pad. “Analysis: This appears to be a suitable choice for this particular feature. A fine choice meatbag.”

I watched and felt Bo bristle at the meatbag comment, just as she’d done every other time HK had used it. Neither Fay nor Dooku were overly happy about the term either, but after explaining to all of them that HK used it because Revan had programmed him that way after HK referred to Malak as that, they had grudgingly accepted it. Though HK now seemed to take enjoyment in using the term almost excessively to annoy them, with only Bo visibly reacting to it.

“Stop calling me that!” She snarled as her fists clenched, once more showing her dislike of the term.

“Indignation: I do not understand why you find the term insulting. Are you not a bag of meat containing mostly water?” HK asked back and while he hadn’t used the ‘mockery’ prefix, it sure sounded as if he was mocking Bo, which made me wonder if he was recycling comments that he’d made to Malak millennia ago.

Bo’s anger, even without the klaxon it was setting off in the Force, was easy to spot and I placed my hand on her forearm, preventing her from attacking the droid head that could so easily get under her skin. While I did sympathise with her and the others for HK’s constant jibes, I felt she needed to learn to control her temper better as it was a clear and obvious flaw to exploit, and HK clearly knew that.

“That’s enough!” I stated firmly as Bo tried and failed to pull away from my grip, which was all but impossible as I used the Force to enhance my strength to a level that a Wookie would need to work to overpower at least. Actually, I honestly had no idea if I could overpower a Wookie, but even with my Strength almost maxed and boosted to the fullest by Enhance Stat, I doubted I could. “Bo, you know why HK uses the term, so try to control yourself better. HK, please, stop riling her up so much.”

Neither replied to me, though I felt Bo stop struggling against my grip and sink back onto the bed. “I still don’t think giving a droid hidden weaponry is a good idea.” She mumbled out as she continued to glare at HK whose optical receptors seemed to fluctuate in response to her words. “Especially not a jare’la protocol droid.”

“Trust me,” I replied, which only resulted in her turning her glare towards me. Before she could retort, an idea came to me. While helping me to consider weaponry for HK had helped alleviate some of her boredom with being stuck on this world, it wasn’t going to help forever. But there was something I could reveal that, if it worked, would not only improve her trust in me but get her far more interested in the project.

I flicked my free hand and the unmistakable sound of the door locking echoed through the room. Bo’s brow rose at my actions, and I sensed trepidation coming from her before I started to speak. “Can you keep a secret?” I asked. Yes, it was a blunt thing to do, but Bo wasn’t one for subtlety and subterfuge. Her brow rose as she considered my words before slowly, cautiously, she nodded. “HK isn’t a simple protocol droid. Oh, he can serve as one, if you can put up with his speech patterns being just as likely to incite violence as translate what you say.”

“Objection: Master, I must protest. I do not always intentionally go looking for violence, I merely draw your organic meatbag’s tendency to prefer it to the surface.”

“HK-47 was the personal assassin droid of Revan when he turned to the Dark Side,” I continued, ignoring HK’s comment. “He served with him while Revan was a Sith, and during his return to the Jedi, right up until Revan disappeared into the Unknown Regions, at which point he spent a good length of time with one of his top generals.” I watched as Bo’s eyes widened in response to what I was saying. “He fought alongside both Revan and Te Taylir Mand'alor.”

“Recollection: Now there was a fine meatbag, master. Assessment: Well trained, battle hardened, and highly efficient; for a meatbag.”

At HK’s brief review of Canderous I had to fight back a chuckle as Bo very obviously tried to conceal her surprise and excitement. She looked between HK and me for nearly half a minute.

“You’re telling me that this worthless droid head,” HK began to reply – likely with a biting retort – but Bo continued talking over him, “was not only owned by Naast be Me'suum but fought with Te Taylir Mand'alor when they defeated Darth Malak?” I nodded and Bo’s head whipped around to HK and leaned closer, her free arm resting on the table. “Tell me everything.” She demanded.

“Another time,” I interjected before HK could respond. Bo’s head snapped back to me, but that was what I wanted. “Bo, neither of my masters know this. Haran, the only other person who knows is your father. Duke Torrhen suspects, but he’s never asked me directly about it.” I glanced at HK. “If my masters, or anyone else learns the truth before I’ve rebuilt his body to a sufficiently advanced level,” I shook my head, “they’d have him destroyed, and in the case of the Jedi, probably have me locked away in a prison no one outside the High Council and other senior members of the Order know about.”

Silence fell over the room as I waited for Bo to process what I’d just said and respond.

She pulled back – and I let go of her forearm which I’d still been holding – just enough to generate some distance between us before shaking her head. “Jedi are di’kute.” She muttered as a faint smirk came to her lips. “I keep forgetting that because of you.”

“Commentary: Like the creator, my new master is far from a normal Jedi. Thank the maker.” HK added in support, which drew a chuckle from Bo.

“Aye. If you and Serra had been normal Jedi,” she cringed as she said that bit, “I doubt either of you would’ve lasted more than a month on Mandalore.”

“Query: Serra?”

I turned to HK. “A fellow Jedi Padawan and friend. She came with me to Mandalore to train, though she’s back at the Temple now; and causing trouble because she fights ‘dirty’.” I finished, having turned back to face Bo.

The redhead chuckled once more “That I’d love to see. Though ‘fellow Jedi and friend’? That’s how you want to describe her?” Bo’s chuckle turned into a gentle laugh that was unexpectedly pleasant to hear. When she finished, she leaned close to HK, though kept her eyes on me. “Serra followed Cam around like a love-sick kath hound. But of course, he’s a Jedi so he won’t return her feelings.”

“It’s not like that and you know it,” I countered quickly. From that very brief – but not entirely inaccurate description – I suspected HK would begin to compare Serra to Bastila which would be unfair. Serra wasn’t as skilled as Bastila – yet – nor as much of a sycophant for the Jedi way as Bastila had been, at least not at first. Thank the Force. I very deliberately did not allow myself to contemplate what HK’s more likely deductions could imply, instead deciding to attempt a deflection. “Besides, if I recall correctly, you spent a good deal of time chasing after her when she was on Mandalore.”

Bo smirked and leaned back. “Hey, I liked what I saw, and when you look like me, why not flaunt it?” she asked as she spread her arms wide and back, forcing her developing chest to push up against the tight under-weave she was wearing. She smirked as she caught my eyes wandering south of her face, as I no doubt thought she wanted. “See? Even you can’t resist me. Shame you’re not my type.”

I shook my head as a smile came to my face. While I sensed the faint hint of something behind her bravado in the Force, I wasn’t going down that road. “Anyway,” I started, drawing out the word to help me chance the topic, “you need to keep quiet about HK and what type of body I’m really designing for him”

Bo mimed zipping her lips shut before a large smile spread across her face as I sensed anticipation and excitement radiating from her in waves. “So, now that I know the truth, what exactly are your plans for his chassis? Besides the hidden blasters in his forearms.”

A shook my head even as I laughed. Of course Bo’s interest would be piqued at wondering how I was going to rebuild and rearm a walking death trap. Then again, this was one of the reasons why I’d asked for her help in the first place.

“I was thinking of staying close to the original build. Keep the red-rust colour and, at least initially, use hardened durasteel for the frame.”

Bo scoffed and tutted dramatically then pointed at HK as she responded. “This isn’t a simple combat droid you’re building. This is a legend you’re rebuilding. Durasteel is too common, too basic for such a weapon.” She turned her focus to HK and gave the head a once over. “If we can find it, I’m thinking of a high-quality beskar alloy to start. If we could get our hands on cortosis or maybe some phrik initially, we could coat all of your joints and internals in it to give you more of an edge over a Jedi. Then of course, we’ve got to redo your ideas for his weaponry. Two hidden blasters simply won’t do.”

I had to fight off an urge to roll my eyes at how serious and excited she was as she listed ideas for how to rebuild and improve HK.

“Contemplative: Such upgrades would be acceptable. Theory: Master, I believe I am beginning to like this meatbag. She has potential.”

Bo laughed at the compliment – or what HK thought was one – though I noted that she failed to react to being called a meatbag once more even as a cold shiver travelled down my spine. What was I unleashing on the galaxy; and what kind of mayhem and chaos would they unleash.

As Bo picked up the pad and began jabbing away at it rapidly I made a silent promise to make sure to never be in their combined line of sight. Watching them unleash hell wouldn’t be fun when it was aimed at me.

… …

… …

I sat quietly in my room with the lights off. Bo had taken HK to her room to speak with the droid about Revan, Canderous, the others with them, and the battles they’d fought. While that was likely not all they’d discuss (I suspected they’d go over battles, combat tactics and weaponry) it did allow me a few hours each day of quiet time to reflect on every past spar, duel and battle where I’d used my lightsaber.

What had quickly become obvious was that I was, as both Dooku and HK had observed, very predictable in my movements. Or I was to anyone who understood Makashi to a decent degree. Against my fellow Padawans and a good chunk of Knights, I’d still be able to win by just sticking to the Makashi form book, but against anyone even decently skilled, I was just waiting to lose. All in all, it was actually a sad state of affairs.

Though while reviewing my spars with Dooku, I’d spotted a few things. Namely, in the ones we’d had since my time on Mandalore, he’d begun to incorporate a variety of new techniques and velocities that were wholly unfamiliar. A slight change in his footwork here, an altered blade angle or body twist there was enough to always surprise me. Why he’d added these elements wasn’t clear, but I liked to think it was due to my skill – however mechanical – with Makashi and my younger age and greater stamina that forced him to adapt. Though that may just be my ego talking. Regardless of when or why he’d altered his personal style, it was of little help to me; save for showing why a personal style was needed.

From these meditation/review sessions, I’d come to some basic points on what I’d likely do. Like Dooku, Makashi would stay the foundation of my style, though I was thinking of incorporating far more elements and velocities of other forms into it.

The most obvious issue with Makashi that I needed to overcome was its footwork. As I’d painfully learnt when fighting the two Death Watch leaders – and inadvertently saved a kriffing Sith Lord in the process – was that Makashi was extremely linear in how you were meant to move. Against two skilled combatants at close range, be they other Force Users or people skilled in combating Force users, it was something that, if used by someone insufficiently skilled in the form, would result in their death. This problem would, from my own thoughts and talking with Dooku, be multiplied exponentially the more opponents one had to face.

Shii-Cho, whould allow me to move faster and face multiple opponents easier, but from what I’d seen, it was far too basic, being classified as the initiate’s form. I could only imagine what Dooku would say if I wanted to go back to Shii-Cho study. Soresu was also out as it lacked any meaningful ability to counter an attack and was far too passive for my tastes. Ataru held some promise, though I’d have to find a way to not do all the overly dramatic flips, spins and tricks the form was renowned for. From sparring with Dooku, I’d seen the folly of such an approach unless you were shorter or more flexible (or preferably both) than the average Force user. And while there were elements of both Shien and Djem So that seemed interesting to adapt into my style, next to nothing in the footwork suited a finesse-based approach to lightsaber combat.

While Niman might be a form to look at, my skill with the form wasn’t great, which meant that I wasn’t comfortable integrating it into my style just yet. There was also the issue that, at the lower levels, the form had none of the strengths of the previous forms while simultaneously being a jack-of-all-trades form. That meant that it would take longer to get to a relative skill level than studying other forms would yield. Though realising just how weak the form was at my current level – which was about to where many Jedi who used it as their primary form ever bothered to take it – had me wondering if most of the Jedi who died in the first battle of Geonosis were practitioners of the form. From what I knew of the forms used by survivors, none of them used Niman as a base form.

The one thing that I did plan to adapt into my style that most Jedi that I’d observed didn’t was a focus on unarmed combat. Yes, many Jedi were trained in unarmed fighting, but the Jedi’s preferred option there was a passive, defensive form, reminding me heavily of Judo or Aikido with their focus on joint locks and quick takedowns. That wasn’t how I saw things. Oh, taking someone down quickly was good, but not putting them out of the fight was inefficient. That was something that had been drilled into my brain in my old life, and with a good base in the two Mandalorian combat styles Beskar’rev and Beskar’pel – and with plans to learn as many new combat styles as possible, such as Teras Kasi – using a more aggressive style of unarmed combat felt like the way to go.

Most of my focus had been on my spars with Dooku, but from the few times I’d fought non-Force users, I’d noticed a few things. With Gar I’d mainly used Soresu to defend myself. That had been both to give him a fighting chance and to limit revealing too much of what I could do to Pre Vizsla; though that had been made worthless as I’m sure he and others had gone over what recordings they could find of my assault on the Mandalmotors tower multiple times already. While Soresu had worked against Gar – probably due to him lacking experience against Force Users – it was so defensive and passive that I knew I’d never be a big user of the form.

Shien felt more natural as it was about defending and redirecting ranged attacks back at the attacker, which was a better fit for how I approached combat. With Bo here it was easy to train up my skill in the form, though that girl found it far too amusing blasting away at me for her to be anything but a budding battle junkie. Still, at least that, along with her growing bond with HK, had helped temper her agitation at being away from her home and family towards more constructive activities for me. Now, that wasn’t to say she didn’t want to leave and know what was going on with her family and people (or that her desire to return and fight had dissipated). More than that she understood she couldn’t do anything currently. Which was also helped by me locking her out of the navigational computer.

The only Force user, bar Dooku, that I’d sparred with more than a few times was Serra and while her skill with a lightsaber was far behind mine, her style was so different that it was still worthwhile reviewing our spars. That was in no way disparaging Serra, who was possibly the best duellist in our age group outside of myself. However, thanks to the Interface, learning and evolving a skill for me was far, far easier. Though Serra was remarkably good at countering the skill disparity between us with her comfort of using two…

The memory of one of our spars grew hazy in my mind’s eye. Almost as if someone or thing was interfering with my thoughts. Slowly, as it faded away into the ether, darkness engulfed my mind before three faint, moving lines of light sliced through the darkness.

One of the slices was a bright, sinister crimson, as if one was staring into the heart of a dying star. Like in the previous times this imagery had appeared to me over the last month or so, it was in opposition to two bars of emerald fire, thrumming with inner light and life. As the opposing sides circled each-other, a hiss triggered the arrival of yet another beam of green energy. This one was shorter than the others, and a slightly gentler color, heralding the soft green of the forest floor in the late afternoon sun. In response, a second spit of fire extended opposite to where the first one swayed; both separate, yet connected.

Without warning, three of the blades of light, one green and two red, charged at each other and were met in a brutal contest. The clashes sent up flashes of light that cast the swirling shadows into even deeper relief, further obscuring the scene. The remaining shafts of light delayed slightly before joining in the fray, though with seemingly negligible effect.

The pair of green blades were suddenly knocked backwards, leaving one remaining emerald shaft to stand alone to guard against the lances of crimson fire. A second later, however, the red glow intensified into a burning joy as it overpowered it’s single opposition, wheeled about, and thrust into the shadows where a body would be. The shaft of emerald brilliance sputtered, then fell to the ground, dying out into blackness as it did.

A scream echoed through the Force and the saberstaff was sent hurtling backwards in a wave of pain. A wave that was strong enough to hit me like a splash of ice water and abruptly threw me back into my own body.

My eyes shot open and I looked around my cabin rapidly, trying to centre my emotions as I processed the vision. For vision it certainly was. It wasn’t my first. I’d had several indistinct visions for the past few weeks since we’d arrived on the planet. However, none of those visions had had even this level of clarity, relatively speaking. Although Force Visions were notoriously open to interpretation and could easily be manipulated – case in point being Anakin’s visions of Padme’s death – I was fairly confident in a few basic deductions.

From the way they moved, I’d already worked out that the shafts of light represented lightsabers, but beyond that it became a bit more open to interpretation. The use of a double-bladed lightsaber heavily implied that the Sith was meant to be Maul. The paired green blades reminded me of Serra, with the off-colored shoto matching the hue of the one I’d crafted for her before she left. However, I was wary of jumping to such assumptions since she was far from the only duel wielder in the Order, and that off-colour was used in other lightsabers as well.

On the other hand, the Force Scream solidified my suspicions that it was indeed Serra.

I continued to practice some breathing exercises as, with my deductions on fairly solid ground, I attempted to further interpret what I saw. For some reason, I was seeing a vision of Serra and another Jedi – highly likely to be Master Drallig – fighting and losing against Maul. Drallig had fallen but before Maul could kill Serra, she’d unleashed a Force Scream at the Sith, catching him off-guard. All I could hope as I calmed down was that a; this was just a vision of a possible future and b; if it was certain to happen, that Serra had the common sense to run instead of engaging Maul alone.

I pushed myself to my feet and swatted down my growing concern for my friend. This vision, if it was even real, wasn’t something that I felt was going to happen soon. Though even if it was, being stuck on this world and out of contact with the wider galaxy meant there was nothing I could currently do to warn Serra.

After watching the vision several more times (thank you Eidetic Memory for letting me do that), I felt I understood all I was going to of what I’d seen. As I walked from my quarters, I reached out through the Force.

Bo was still in her quarters, as was HK; which wasn’t a surprise as he was just a head. Fay was somewhere outside the range of my minimap, which tracked with what she’d said over breakfast. The closest village to us – which was around fifty kilometres away – was having a market day, so she’d likely gone in to see what supplies she could acquire, taking the speeder that we had found in one of the ship’s cargo holds. The people on this world didn’t have much use for Republic Credits but there were other things we could trade with them. Fay had a strong connection with nature and was masterful at controlling plants.

While using the Force to gain supplies wasn’t strictly allowed by Jedi practices, encouraging plants to grow faster and stronger apparently was. I’d asked her how this didn’t drift towards a Dark Side usage of the Force – not that I felt it was – and she’d easily explained that she wasn’t altering the natural order of the planet; merely encouraging the plants to grow faster and healthier.

Still, with her gone, that left Dooku as the only person I could talk to and thankfully, he was a few hundred metres away from the ship, in the area we’d set aside for sparring.

I walked outside and quickly found him going through a Makashi velocity. Yet as I watched, I saw him alter his footwork slightly. It appeared as though he was adapting a new velocity into his form. A new velocity geared for – unless I missed my guess – blaster deflection.

“Padawan, I sensed a moment of fear and concern from you earlier,” he said as he finished, though without turning in my direction. He turned to face me, a single eyebrow raised as he clipped his now depowered lightsaber back to his belt.

“Yes, Master,” I began as he stepped towards me. “I was meditating on how to create my own style when I had… a vision.” His other eyebrow rose to join the first. Knowing his history regarding visions, I went into detail. “I was thinking about Serra and how she used dual blades, not that I see myself doing so,” I added quickly to cut off any disdain he felt about the approach, “but then things changed. My memory turned dark until it was lit by several lightsaber shafts. Three green, and one red.” I paused and looked away for a moment. “I, uh, I’ve been seeing this for a while now.”

“Am I to assume that today something changed?” He asked as he picked up a canteen of water from a nearby crate that we’d brought down from the ship to act as a storage point/makeshift table for the training area.

“Yes. It was much clearer today. I was able to see that one of the green sabers was of shoto length and a second red blade extended in tandem with the first. However, unless I completely misunderstood what I was seeing, a total of three Force users began to fight.”

“Hmm, so this vision of yours,” his disdain at me having a vision was easy to pick up in his voice, though only because I’d been around him for so many years, “involved two Jedi, one of whom utilised shoto-style Jar'Kai, engaging a saberstaff-wielding Sith.” I nodded as he took another sip of water. “From your concern, I surmise that you believe that Padawan Keto was one of the combatants.”

I nodded to confirm his theory before replying. “Yes, Master. Plus, there was a cry of pain in the Force after the other Jedi, whom I think might’ve been Master Drallig, was killed and the Sith turned to finish her off.” I paused as I realised that I’d have to reveal something that Serra and I had kept quiet for over a year. “The remaining Jedi… they screamed into the Force. I, I’ve felt and heard that scream before from Serra.” I stopped realising I’d just revealed something that I wasn’t meant to. Quickly, before Dooku could say anything I continued. “When she was… attacked at the Institute, I heard her scream through the Force and when I got to her, her attackers were flung across the room. It’s only now, when I heard the scream in the vision, that I realised that she’d used an actual Force Scream.”

Dooku was silent for a moment, before he responded. “Hmm. While a Force Scream is an ability considered dark by many Jedi, it isn’t officially listed as such. Also, given to the intense fear of what happened during that attack, Padawan Keto instinctively using the Force in such a way isn’t outside the realm of possibility. However, if she used it again in this vision of yours, there might be a concern that she’ll become proficient with the ability. That may well lead to… complications for her within the Order.” Dooku didn’t need to explain what he meant by complications as I knew he meant she’d be under the same spotlight as I was. Though she already partially was due to our close friendship and shared time on Mandalore.

“I know there’s little I can do about the vision currently,” I began, bringing the topic back to the vision for now, “I’d still like to speak with her once we leave the planet and return to civilization. For now, I was hoping you could give me some pointers on how to counter a saberstaff wielder.”

Now, I knew Dooku would return to the topic of Serra using Force Scream – both in my vision and real life – but that would likely be done with Fay present. Dooku wasn’t one for hand-holding and gentle words when it came to discussing sensitive issues, but he’d want to be a part of that discussion since the power Serra was seemingly learning her affinity for was very close to being a Dark Side power.

“Perhaps.” Dooku responded as he tapped his chin. “The Temple Guard are the main group of Jedi who use a saberstaff, though they primarily only use one end in the style of a saberpike. There are a few Jedi who use a saberstaff, and I know of one who’s physiology allows him to use two.” He said, thinking out loud for my benefit. “While it is unlikely, were you able to ascertain anything about this Sith’s style of fighting?”

“Just that they were very skilled. Skilled enough to be able to repel both Serra and Master Drallig’s attacks with ease. There seemed to be elements of multiple styles at play, but it was too obscure to make out more.”

“That hints at either Niman or Juyo. Juyo would be the more likely, as it’s the form that’s historically favoured by the Sith of old.” Dooku paused and closed his eyes. I waited patiently as he did this, wondering if he was searching his memories for what he knew of the form. “I believe I can remember the basics of the form, though I will not be able to teach any of that to you.” He said after opening his eyes. “The High Council have ruled that learning Juyo is forbidden for Padawans due to the inherent need to brush close to the Dark Side when one channels their battlelust into the form.”

I opened my mouth to protest but he continued speaking, denying me the chance to counter. “The primary reason we are on this world was for Master Fay and I to discuss with you the dangers of drawing on the Dark Side and for you to meditate on your actions when you have done so.” He stroked his beard as he kept going “That said, I am not adverse to showing you some elementary counters to fighting a saberstaff. While they likely would be of little use against a Sith of the calibre to take down Master Drallig, they are a useful starting point for any who wish to learn to counter the unusual fighting style of a saberstaff. Likely with this information, you could begin to devise counters that work with the style you are currently formulating.”

He stepped into the rough ring of the sparring area and I followed. At his direction I unclipped my lightsaber and ignited it. While pointers on the basics wasn’t what I’d hoped to learn, it was better than him dismissing my vision as nothing more than a worried dream about a friend I hadn’t seen outside of holocalls in nearly a year.

Plus, along with speaking to Serra once we left this planet, I had several years before Naboo to enhance and refine a counter style to Maul. While I doubted that I could get to a level where I was able to guarantee victory against the Sith – he was a trained Sith warrior/assassin after all – the sooner I began preparing for that fight, the better my chances of victory would be.

… …

... …

The light of the twin suns high overhead blazed down on me as I walked down the ramp of the Ne’tra Sartr I had to fight off an urge to turn around and leave this stinking osik-hole of a planet. I hated this world and if not for the reason I’d come back here – which had taken some explaining with my masters to convince them to allow me to do so, though there was still a far harder and longer conversation to come – I’d never want to have anything to do with this place ever again. Well, not unless I was returning to take out some Hutts or turn the planet into molten slag.

“Osik, this place is hot.” Bo muttered as she followed a step behind and to my right, verbally using the same curse that I’d just used mentally.

“Says the Mandalorian in full temperature-controlled armour,” I shot back, though since I had Tapas active the heat wasn’t much of an issue for me either. Yet, if I’d had the choice, I’d have taken the armour over having to wear Jedi robes. These things were far less threatening to the locals than a Mandalorian in armour; plus I’d have been able to keep my longer hair. As much as I hadn't thought I’d miss the shoulder-length mop I’d grown on Mandalore, I found myself missing it; and despising my Padawan braid as it was blown into my face for the first – but probably not the last – time today.

“Aye, but I’ve got no interest in being on this osik’palon of a planet. Besides, I thought you said you’d never come back here again after your verd’goten?”

“I don’t hate the planet,” I replied, drawing a cough of disbelief from her, “but if I never come here again that’ll still be too soon.” The hard metal of the ramp gave way to the dusty sand of the planet that covered the entire surface. While there was far less blowing around Mos Espa than the Jutland Wastes, I still knew I’d be spending hours after we returned to the ship getting sand out of everywhere. The sooner we were done with this Sith-cursed shithole the better.

Kriff, Tatooine almost made me miss Aesolian. Almost. But after three months isolated on that backwater of a world with no outside communications – and only detecting four ships coming or going from the planet over the three months we were there – I was willing to deal with a few hours of intense sunlight and sand. Probably.

“So why’d we come here? And why are your masters not coming with us?” Bo asked as I spotted a grey-skinned Duros begin to approach. His eyes darted from me to Bo and back and using the Force it was easy to sense some trepidation. That made sense since he’d just seen a Mandalorian in full armour disembark.

With the Mandalore sector embroiled in a civil war – which we’d caught hints of on the Republic Holonet, though not much in the way of details beyond the Senate and Jedi were monitoring the situation –, the pair of us must’ve been a confusing and concerning sight. And that was before you took in the fact neither of us were fully grown.

On that note, I was impressed that Bo was sticking to her word to not run back to the sector to help her family. Then again, after speaking with her father once we’d left Aesolian and him revealing that she was now ahead of Satine in his list of chosen successors for clan leadership and that the battles so far had been going well, she’d seemed more willing to not run. Still, before we’d landed, I’d extracted a promise from her to not run off and book passage on another ship to get back home.

“Welcome to Mos Espa. I’m Nam Burrult, docking manager,” the Duros said once he had worked up the courage to come closer enough. “Your ship wasn’t on the schedule, as such the fee is ninety peggats.”

That felt insanely high, as it worked out to about thirty six hundred Republic credits. A quick application of Observe confirmed the Duros was trying to rip us off as he had a gambling debt to pay off. Not interested in haggling with the alien over his pathetic attempt at highway robbery, I rolled my fingers and replied. “You aren’t looking for trouble. You want us to leave as quickly and quietly as possible.” I said as I employed a Mind Trick to facilitate a quick passage.

“I’m not looking for trouble. I want you to leave as quickly and quietly as possible.” Nam replied in a slightly mechanical manner.

“You’ll only charge us the standard landing fee.” I added, feeling giddy at getting to use the Mind Trick. Yes, I’d done it before, but there was always something enjoyable about using this particular Force ability.

“I’ll only charge you the standard landing fee,” Nam droned back. “That’ll be 6 peggats.” He added as his voice returned to normal and he extended his hand, palm up.

I pulled several hundred-credit chits from a pouch on my belt and dropped it into the outstretched hand. “Closest I’ve got, and that should cover refuelling and a basic check for the hull for damage.” I said as I took a step past him. “Oh, but I’d suggest not going onboard, my master isn’t amused when people disturb his meditation.”

You Jetii and your tricks,” Bo muttered as we walked towards the personal door that led out of the docking area.

“Hey, it saved us from getting ripped off, though why do I think you’d have preferred to handle the Duros a different way.” I replied, which drew a chuckle from her.

“Aye, though I’d have hated getting the blood off my armour. That shade of green just isn’t my style.” She commented, which made me chuckle.

“If you say so, though I have a feeling that if we’d have started a ruckus here the local crime bosses would’ve come to see what was happening. While I’d have no issues with us doing a little housecleaning, I’d like to keep things on the downlow until we’re done. Plus, I’d rather not give my masters another reason to take me for a sabbatical.”

“Aye, that wasn’t a fun few months. No matter how much you tried to keep my mind occupied,” Bo responded, and I saw her shake her head in a reflection of a nearby computer screen. “Thank you, for that. I know I wasn’t the best guest, but it’s just so…”

Sensing her frustration, I stopped and turned to face her. “I know, and I know how much you’d prefer to be there with your family. But your father needs you to be safe; unless you're fine with Satine being his choice to lead the clan if your brother dies.”

While I couldn’t see her face due to her helmet, the scoff and wave of irritation and frustration that radiated from her, told me all I needed to know. “That… urgh, don’t even want to think about it.”

I chuckled at her response. The last three months had resulted in us striking up a closer friendship. True, it was one brought out of boredom on her part and trying to avoid being hurt by her on my part, but it had evolved from there. Bo was very much a person who enjoyed battle and danger, which further explained – along with her issues with her sister – as to why she’d joined Death Watch in the main timeline. Though after the attack by Death Watch on her family and friends, I felt it highly unlikely that she’d follow that path in this timeline.

“Hey, maybe we get lucky and run into a bunch of muggers while we’re walking around,” I suggested with a smirk. “Though hopefully they’d not be connected to the Hutts. As much as I despise them, I know, even if my masters were inclined to help, we couldn’t take them all down.” Though taking out the Hutts was something that had crossed my mind a few times when thinking of things to do that would better the galaxy.

“Aye, that’s true. The Hutts… well, the universe would be better off without them. Though you’re right in saying it wouldn’t be easy. We’d need most of your Order or my people behind us to stand a chance; especially with the connections they’re rumoured to have to the Senate.”

I nodded in agreement even as I bit back adding my opinions about the Jedi and Republic to the conversation. From our talks, spars, and sessions with HK, she was well aware of my concerns about both groups so there was no need to state them again.

“Anyway, why are we in this backwater city instead of the capital?” She asked as we stepped through the door leading from the docking area to the street outside. I instantly had to step back to avoid a speeder as it shot past.

“Easy there,” I muttered as I noticed her hand twitch longingly towards her blaster. For a moment I considered giving it a gentle nudge to cause it to crash, but doing that would place the lives of others at risk, and at the speed it was going it was only a matter of time until the Nikto driving it crashed, so I let the thought go and a moment later the speeder swerved and disappeared down another street. “And to answer your question before you start shooting up the place, you remember how I was ambushed right after my hunt?”

Bo nodded, and from the way her grip on her pistols tightened and the brief surge of anger I sensed from her, she wasn’t happy at having that brought up. While there was a chance that the anger was because I almost died, it was more likely that her anger was about someone threatening to interfere in Mandalorian tradition and wanting to teach them the error of their ways. Still, to see her ready to fight because of what happened to me was, strangely, comforting; and possibly a little bit attractive as well.

“Well, when I lashed out and killed that overgrown lizard,” that drew a faint snort from her, “I sensed something… someone on this Sithspit of a hellhole. Someone strong in the Force.” I continued, giving her a briefer version of the story that I’d spun to Fay and Dooku. I hadn’t actually sensed Anakin, which was a little strange as someone with his strength in the Force should be easy to sense even from orbit, but I’d spun a story convincing enough that my masters had agreed to let me return to investigate this feeling. Though why Fay had suggested Bo accompany me instead of either her or Dooku wasn’t something I yet knew.

Yet, with me now being in the same city as him, I felt I should be able to sense where he was. As Bo returned her pistols to their holsters, I reached out with the Force and focused on my minimap, waiting to see a sign of a strong Force presence somewhere nearby.

Initially, I sensed nothing impressive, or on the minimap. Oh, there were certainly people around her with some strength in the Force, but nothing with the brightness that I’d expect from Anakin.

“Cam?” Bo asked, meaning I’d stayed still longer than I’d planned as I searched for Anakin through the Force than I’d intended. Yet, nothing was showing. It was almost as if he was shielding his Force signature from everyone, but that would be a strange thing for any strong in the Force to do; never mind a child.

I kept pushing my senses into the city, searching for anything that would stand out. I passed by the docking port, being careful to not touch the signatures of my masters. I’d sold them on sensing someone in this city, so them detecting me searching in the Force might lead to questions I’d rather not have to answer coming up.

I felt Bo’s concern rising, but at that moment I felt a ripple. It was faint, as if far from where I was, but it was there. A moment later, a faded blip appeared on my minimap. It was beyond the map’s range to the south, and far fainter than I’d expected. Yet something told me this was the signature I was looking for.

“Whoever it is, they’re powerful,” I muttered as I opened my eyes. Bo was standing close by, her hands still on her pistols, though at least she’d left them in their holsters. “They’re hiding themselves from me somehow. That way.” I added, pointing in southwards.

I resumed walking, with Bo quickly falling into step beside me. “So why’d you want me to come instead of your masters?” She asked once we’d taken about a dozen steps. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to be off the ship – well almost – but this seems like a Jedi thing.”

“It was Master Fay’s suggestion,” I replied as we neared an intersection. “She finds the world uncomfortable, though I’m not sure why, and Master Dooku…” My voice trailed off as we passed a few street-side stalls. While it wasn’t blatantly obvious that the people working them were slaves – as they lacked visible restraints – the general sense of disillusion and despair left me in little doubt most of them were. Or they were so in debt to someone – likely the Hutts or those who worked for them – that they might as well be slaves.

Part of me wanted to help, to find the system in place and give them all their freedom. But I knew I couldn’t do that. Not now. And even if I somehow was able to remove all the Hutts and their allies on the planet, when I left another member of the Hutt Clans would move in and take over. Or another group would set up shop on the planet. IF I couldn’t fix the underlying problems with the planet, then taking out the current ruling faction would be of no long-term benefit. Which had my mind wandering back to the lesson Kreia had given the Exile on Nar Shaddaa. And there was a world that I never wanted to visit.

Bo scoffed, drawing me from my thoughts as we turned the corner at the intersection and headed south-east. “Yeah, he’d really stand out here. Someone would think him an easy mark, even with his lightsaber.” She stepped closer as we moved down this new street. It wasn’t as wide as the old one, and shadows cast by netting fell over the gaps between the buildings. “And I think someone has that idea for us as well. I’ve got four beings tailing us since we left the docking area.”

I shrugged even as I used the Force and my minimap to find the four she spoke off. “Hardly a surprise. We’re a Jedi and Mandalorian pair; and younger ones at that.”

“And if they think we’re marks?” Bo asked, a slight edge to her voice even through the modulator in her helmet that was making her sound slightly older.

The smell of something cooked wafted by as I replied. “In that case, I pity the fool who comes to us looking for trouble.” I stopped at a stand from where the smell was coming from and purchased two sticks of Ewok jerky. I doubted it was really from an Ewok; they were sentient creatures after all, but it smelled good and I was feeling a little hungry. “Mainly because unless they’ve got a lot more help, it won’t be much of a workout dealing with them.” I finished as I handed one of the sticks to Bo.

She took it as she chuckled, though my focus was on the four who were tailing us. Two had stopped moments after we had, while the other two were going to pass by. Even though I doubted they’d try anything, I still used Observe on the pair to be sure.

Sadly, it seemed I was mistaken as while they were meant to be following me, both were curious what they could get for a lightsaber and beskar. Though I felt my temper flare at learning one of them was curious if a Mandalorian female was any good on their back.

I repressed a sigh as I bit into the jerky, it tasted a bit like venison, slightly sweeter and very tender, I liked it. If they’d just been thinking about attacking, I’d have likely let them go relatively unharmed. But for threatening a friend…

Suddenly I was glad my masters weren’t here to restrain my response once these embarrassments to their species gene pools sprung their trap.

… …

… …

In the end it'd taken us a bit over an hour to work our way through Mos Espa, though most of that time was due to us getting our tail to ambush us. When they had, they’d brought backup and made it eight-on-two. Unsurprisingly, that went about as well for them as four-on-two would’ve, and I hadn’t even needed to unholster my lightsaber. Kriff, I’d barely had to do much more than disarm them of their more dangerous looking weapons – with a subtle gesture and the Force – before Bo stepped in. Less than ten minutes later the group of eight were all lying dead on the ground and Bo had enjoyed a pleasant, if not entirely strenuous, workout.

There was a part of me that knew just allowing her to kill them wasn’t the Jedi way, but the greater part of me understood that this was how worlds like Tatooine worked. If we allowed them to live, then they’d only return in greater numbers and try again; possibly even with Hutt-backed support if they had the right connections. Though both Bo and I agreed that it was better if my masters never heard about this attempted mugging, if only to avoid another trip to a remote world for months on end.

Interestingly enough, after the failed ambush many people seemed to give us a wide berth. While I wasn’t exactly hiding the fact I was a Jedi – my hair had been cut back and I had my Padawan braid back and I was wearing my robes – I wasn’t advertising it as I was keeping my lightsaber hidden under my robes. Because of that, we reached our destination quickly, and I looked up at the sign above the door – which was in Galactic Standard and Huttese – I had to fight to keep a smile from creeping onto my face.

Watto’s Junkshop

Though my fight failed as the owner of the shop came flying out and spotted us. According to the faint ping I was tracking via my minimap, Anakin wasn’t in the shop but somewhere in the junkyard behind with another being. Given Watto was approaching us, I suspected that he was with his mother.

“Hi chuba da nago?” Watto asked in Huttese.

“Achuta, my pee kasa, Cameron Shan.” I replied, putting what I knew of the language into practical use for the first time. “Mi naga tah bedwana…” I trailed off, as I saw the alien’s brow rise at hearing me speak the local trade language. “Sorry, my Huttese is limited.” I finished in Basic, which was technically true. I could speak Huttese well enough that I would be able to carry out negotiations with Watto, but I felt better dropping back into Basic after proving I knew some of the language.

“Understandable for one from the Core,” Watto replied, waving one of his arms in what I took as a casual dismissal of my lack of ability to speak Huttese. “Your accent is atrocious, as is your dress sense.” He finished with a smirk before his eyes turned to Bo and he rubbed his chin. “Hmm, I’d heard rumblings of two Mandalorians wandering Mos Espa, but I didn’t expect them to wander into my shop…” He shook his head before continuing. “Still, what brings you to my shop? Are you looking for parts for a starship perhaps? I have many modules and components that should work on any ship.”

“We’re looking for some ammunition for our ships' secondary weapons,” I began. “While standard missiles can be found in any halfway decent shipyard, I’m in the market for more…unorthodox payloads. I don’t suppose you have anything in stock?”

While we didn’t actually need anything for our ship, I figured asking for something valuable then purchasing it would make Watto more inclined to like us when I brought up buying the Skywalkers. The faint presence I could feel in the Force was somewhere behind the shop along with another. I was assuming that was the Skywalkers and they were currently in the junkyard sorting through the parts and scrap Watto had there.

The Toydarian floated in the air as he scratched his chin. “Hmm. Yes, yes. I believe I have what you’re looking for in my yard. Though before we go, I need to know you have the money for this, eh? Such…parts do not come cheap.” I reached into my belt, making sure to not expose my lightsaber. “Republ…” His voice trailed off as he heard the sound coming from the small bag I’d removed from the pouch. Likely he was going to make a comment about Republic credits being worthless.

That was something I could likely test with my income from the Lord of the Rings series. Return of the King had released Republic-wide about three months ago and from a brief holocall with the publishers – in which I stayed off-camera as to avoid them realising the writer was a child – I’d earned nearly eighty million credits, taking my holdings from the books to a touch north of a hundred and fifty million. While that was a ton of credits compared to what most beings had, it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket of what the ultra-wealthy owners of the megacorporations like CEC could draw upon. Still, it was a good starting point.

“Ah, good. Follow me.” He said after a moment, eyeing up my bag. While it wasn’t massive, the fact it was full and rustled with the sound of something other than credits inside seemed to be enough to make him interested in making a sale.

Watto flew around his shop, which was the same shape as what I’d expected, and led us to the entrance to the junkyard. Above the entrance hung a sign saying Watto’s Junkyard and as we stepped inside, I was surprised at how much stuff was lying around. Yes, I could remember how it looked from when Qui-Gon toured it in Episode one, but seeing it for real was another thing entirely.

There were three paths from the entrance. The side two led around the walls and, I had to assume, circled around to meet at the top while the centre path appeared to run straight through the middle of the yard. Using my minimap I could determine that Shmi was somewhere down the rightmost path while Anakin was off to the left. Unfortunately, Watto took us up the central path.

“Hmm, so what kind of ship do you fly?” Watto asked as we moved deeper into the yard. “Sometimes the standard component installed by the manufacturer isn’t the best choice.”

“A newer model Kom’rk-class heavy-transport.” I replied honestly, curious to see what he made of that.

“Hmm, can’t say I’ve heard of that model before. A MandalMotors design?” Watto asked, to which I nodded. “Ah, then I bet it's very nice in a fight. From all I’ve heard about the company, it should be a very nice ship.”

“It is, but even a ship that’s in good condition can still need replacement parts, hence why we’re on Tatooine and in your yard. I asked around town and I was told the best chance to find such gems was here.” I stated, hoping to inflate his ego and make him more cooperative for what I wanted to happen.

“Yes. I have the largest shop in Mos Espa. Only place with a bigger shop is in Bestine, but their prices…” He shook his head vigorously. “Too high. Good for scamming new arrivals but anyone with half a brain knows you always avoid the biggest cities.”

“Indeed,” I agreed, channelling Dooku into my tone.

While I was glad that he seemed willing to deal, the fact he hadn’t commented on my dress, my age or the fact I was travelling with a female Mandalorian was surprising. I’d expected at least a passing comment about one of those things yet so far, he’d not done so.

Eventually he led us to a pile of semi-ordered weapon emplacements, and I spotted some cases of ordinance that looked promising. While we didn’t really need them yet, as the ship hadn’t even had any combat experience yet, the missiles I was looking for were both harder to find and worth a considerable number of credits.

“Here, this is it,” Watto began as he flew to the large crates I’d spotted. “Cluster missiles, Homing Missiles, Ionising missiles. Several different types of things that go boom, eh? Ho, ho, ho!” He laughed his same gravely laugh that I remembered from the films.

“They certainly look in good condition, save for having been sitting out in the sun for goodness knows how many days, but I’d like to give it a check before I make up my mind,” I replied, playing the honest – for Tatooine – buyer.

“Of course, of course.” He said as I stepped closer, and he flew back a little. As I passed him, I felt Bo tense and glanced back to see Watto was decidedly too close for my comfort.

“Can I have a little room? My bodyguard has a bit of an itchy trigger finger,” I asked with as fake a smile as I could manage. “We were ambushed on the way here and I dare say she hasn’t gotten all her anger out after dealing with those fools who thought jumping a Mandalorian in beskar would be a good idea.”

Watto’s eyes widened as they bounced between me and Bo. “Ah. Yes, certainly. “He flew back about a metre, keeping his eyes on Bo the entire time. I turned back to the missiles and started to give them a thorough examination. “Might I ask as to how one your age ended up with a Mandalorian as a travelling companion? And a female at that?”

“As much as I’d like to tell you it’s the sex, it’s not,” I answered getting loud laugh from the Toydarian as I sensed anger mixed with the faintest hints of… arousal from Bo. No, I had to have sensed that wrong. “I’m not her type. Though the arrangement between us is still of a personal nature. A deal between her clan leader and mine.”

“You are Mandalorian too? Then why no armour?” Watto continued with the personal questions.

I ran my vambrace over the most promising of the crates as I checked it for damage. “I find that people are more willing to talk when I’m the unarmoured one. Everyone grows nervous around armoured Mandos, so when they see someone with them who isn’t armoured, they feel safer talking to me instead of her.”

Yes, I was revealing one reason I wanted Bo along and in full armour for this to Watto, but it was such an obvious reason that if Watto didn’t realise it – and was just using this conversation to either put me at ease or hide that the missiles were damaged in some way (or both) – I’d be disappointed with him. You didn’t have the biggest junk shop in a city by being a fool.

Watto laughed at my reply and slapped one of his near-vestigial legs. “True, very true. And if they’re looking at her they might not spot you sporting Mandalorian vambraces as well.”

I shrugged as the scanner concluded what I’d hoped to find. A large crate of Ionising missiles that, beyond some superficial wear and tear, appeared to be in good condition. “Hey, I might be young but I’m not stupid.” I shot back as I stood up fully.

“Yes. I’ve seen that with the young slave I have working for me. He’s younger than you but has a knack for machines.” Watto commented idly. I was glad I wasn’t looking in his or Bo’s direction as I don’t think I managed to keep a brief look of surprise and amusement from my face.

“You have a child working in a junkyard?” I asked as I turned to face him after tempering my excitement at being given an opening to meet Anakin. One of my biggest issues with this entire plan was working out how I was going to wangle meeting one of the Skywalkers and here was Watto just giving me the chance on a silver platter.

“He and his mother are my slaves,” Watto answered with a nonchalant shrug. “The boy has to start earning his keep and since he has a head for machines it is a good way to make use of him.”

There was a wave of anger and resentment from Bo as Watto talked so casually about slavery, but other than a tensing of her fists there was no outward sign of her feelings on the matter. With Watto’s attention on me, he missed her reaction, though I doubt he’d have been bothered by it.

“I will put aside my… opinions on slavery for the moment and instead ask if the boy is really as good as you say,” I said slowly, both because I needed this conversation to go well and to play up my apprehension about slavery. “Surely it would be his mother that understands mechanics.”

“The mother is well trained, yes but the boy is already better than her.” Watto boosted confidently.

I considered challenging Watto’s assertion, but there was an element of risk there. If he grew suspicious that I was asking too many questions about Anakin, he could toss us out of the shop and thus ruin my plans for the boy. “I will have to take your word for it I guess,” I ended up saying, trying to brush off the pride Watto was feeling. There was a chance doing this would have him summon Anakin on his own, but that was better than me pushing the issue. “Now, since these Ion missiles here appear to be genuine and working, perhaps we might head back to your shop and discuss the price?”

“Certainly.” With that, Watto flew past me and Bo. “ANAKIN! GET OVER HERE NOW!” He called out at the top of his voice.

“Coming!” A young voice called out from where I knew Anakin to be.

Watto turned back to us and smiled. “The boy will be here shortly. He’ll bring the crates to my shop out front while we settle on a price.” The smile was possibly meant to be friendly but nothing about the flying alien’s demeanour hinted that the negotiations between us were going to be anything but easy.

“Sure, but my guard will stay here. Wouldn’t want this worker of yours damaging the missiles before I use them,” I replied. Watto’s smile slipped for a second suggesting he’d had something up his sleeve, but an instant later the smile was back in all its glory and he nodded. “Of course, of course. Right this way.”

The short journey to the shop was made in silence and as we stepped inside, I let my eyes wander around. There were various droids, mechanical devices and random components that might be from speeders or starships dotted around though the overall layout of the shop matched roughly with what I remembered of the shop from Qui-Gon’s visit.

From my minimap I could see that Anakin had reached Bo and if it was going according to plan, she wasn’t being too unfriendly to the boy. While she didn’t fully understand why I was interested in him, Bo knew that it was Jedi business and, to help improve her behaviour, I said that given time I saw the boy becoming as good a warrior as I would be; if not more so. That, it seemed, was the right thing to say as now she was interested in helping me, though that might just be for the chance to see if I was right and had found another Jedi that would join the Mandalorians.

When she’d said that, I’d had images of Anakin in the Clone Wars running around in full beskar armour. It was something that filled me with interest in seeing it myself and concern about just how much more dangerous a warrior that would make him. As such, I’d resolved that Anakin would only get such training if I was reasonably sure I’d done enough to keep him from the Sith’s clutches. Of course, I somehow doubted the Force would make such a thing easy to achieve.

“So, about the price. Ion ordinance is not an easy weapon to procure. It took me many months of trading to get lucky and find such a stash in a rival yard in Mos Eisley.” Watto said, beginning the dance of our negotiation. While I wasn’t the most natural at this, I understood the need for it and had, according to the Interface, decent skill at it. Time to put that to the test.

We’d been going back and forth haggling first over a price for about ten minutes and had just shaken on the final price when I heard the same door we’d enter through open. Curious and hopeful, I turned to see Bo leading a hover-cart into the shop. Pushing it was a five-year old Anakin Skywalker which made this the perfect opportunity to see what I was dealing with.

Anakin Skywalker

Race: Human

Health: 100%

Age: 5

Force Potential: Extreme

Threat Potential: Minimal

Reputation: Neutral

Affiliation Loyalty: Shmi Skywalker (96%) Kitster Chanchani Banai (72%) Pala Kwi'teksa (71%)

Emotional State: Curious/Confused/Hopeful

Young Anakin is confused both why the Mandalorian lady is being gentle to him as the Mandalorians he’s met before have always been gruff and scary.

Though he does want to look at her vambrace and is hopeful her words to him about getting him and his mother off Tatooine are more than just idle chatter.

...

His Force Potential was where I’d expected it while the other two he held loyalty to were likely his friends and I could remember him mentioning the name Kitster while he was prepping his podracer for the Boonta Eve Classic. Plus, it seemed Bo had given away part of the game by somehow letting on that we planned to free him and Shmi.

As his eyes met mine, I felt a shiver in the Force, like the early onset warnings of a massive earthquake. As quickly as I could, I clamped down on my Force presence until the feeling receded for the time being. I knew that I was simply delaying the inevitable, but I had no desire to see the fallout of two vergences meeting each other within the confines of Watto’s shop, especially on the cusp of what promised to be intensive negotiations.

“There you are, boy! What took you so long?” Watto demanded, making Anakin stumble a little. The hover-cart slid forward but Bo stopped it from crashing into a table covered in the remains of a droid with ease.

“I kept offering to push the cart, but he wanted to do it,” Bo answered sharply. Her annoyance with the Toydarian is clear to hear even through her voice modulator, which she was only using to make herself sound older and avoid anyone recognizing her voice. While I hadn’t felt that was necessary, Bo was taking no chances on Tatooine, which given my history with the world, wasn’t something I was going to argue against.

“Y-you’re the customer. I should push it for you.” Anakin replied in a high-pitched voice. While his voice had annoyed me in the first prequel due to his age, this was even worse. However, it was something I was willing to put up with as it wouldn’t last forever. Thank the Force.

“Stupid boy! Be more careful in the future!” Watto snarled and moved towards Anakin, one arm raised as if to hit him. Bo, however, caught the arm before it could come down.

“Don’t. Even. Think. About. It!” She snarled out before roughly pushing Watto away. While that broke her cover as quiet muscle and would likely increase how much I’d have to pay Watto for the Skywalkers, I couldn’t bring myself to be angry. In her place I’d have done the same, or something much, much worse to the flying alien.

“You’ll have to forgive my friend. She was rescued from slavery and adopted into our culture around the same age as the boy,” I said while walking to first step between Watto and Bo, then continuing on to look at Anakin. “Hello there. I’m Cameron Shan. My friend here is Bo-Katan.” I said as I extended my hand.

“Anakin Skywalker, nice to meet you,” Anakin replied with a big smile. Taking a chance, I opened my robes fractionally as I broke the handshake. I saw his eyes widen, meaning he’d likely seen the lightsaber, but a quick finger to my lips stopped him commenting. I then turned back to Watto. “So, the price?”

“The equivalent to nine thousand credits,” Watto shot back, having added an extra thousand to his price. “The increase is for your female’s behaviour towards me.” He added, explaining the slight increase in price.

“While I understand your annoyance, I hardly think a thousand is a suitable increase for her actions. Perhaps one hundred credits extra would suffice?” I offered, figuring I could use this to further improve my ability to negotiate and, by letting him get the better of this round, hopefully improve his opinion of me before I made my play for the Skywalkers.

“Her actions cost me reputation with you and my slave. Six hundred.” He countered, giving Bo a glare that had no effect on her.

“The only people who know about it are those of us here, so let’s say two hundred.”

“And what if the boy speaks to others about it, hmm? My reputation will be damaged with my regular customers. Five hundred.”

“We have business in this sector and near Nar Shaddaa. I’m certain that we’ll be back soon, but if you prefer that we mention to our fellow Mando’ade how easily offended you are, none of them will want to deal with you. Three hundred.”

There was a pause as Watto thought over my words. Whether it was the chance we’d be back for more business, or that we’d arrange for other Mandalorians to avoid his shop, I couldn’t say, but the fact he was weighing my words was enough for me. “Hmm, perhaps the incident can be forgotten. After all, I can easily arrange for the boy to know the price of spreading rumours about me. Shall we say four hundred?” he offered, extending his hand.

“Certainty,” I replied as we shook on the new price. It was ridiculous that I had to pay so much for Bo acting as any rational being should when faced with someone threatening a child – never mind a slave child – but if this was how this had to go, then so be it.

As we broke the shake, and Watto turned towards the hover-cart I coughed, making him look back at me. “I know this is very sudden, but would you be willing to consider selling the boy to me?” I asked slowly. Anakin’s face lit up for a moment before falling while Watto’s eyes narrowed. “He’s young and likely a burden on you,” I began moving closer to Watto and semi-guiding him away from Bo and Anakin, “plus, if I do this, I think I might finally have a shot with her.” I added quietly even though I knew Bo could hear me with her helmet’s microphones. Regardless of how this played out, when we got back to the Ne’tra Sartr she was probably going to attack me, but it was a price I was willing to pay if it helped gain Anakin and Shmi their freedom.

Watto rubbed his chin. “While young, he is a good slave. With time he’ll be worth far more than most other slaves.” He commented quietly. Since he hadn’t rejected my idea out of hand, I knew I had a shot. “He’d be expensive. Very expensive.”

“I understand, but I’m more than able to pay for him,” I leaned closer. “Plus, she’s got this amazing red hair that I really want to see the top of as she services me,” I added as quietly as I could while using Silence to ensure Bo never heard my words – I didn’t want to risk her trying to de-man me for my suggestion – and tried to add Force Persuasion. While Toydarians were shown to be immune to the mind trick, the more subtle ability that Fay preferred might just work. I already had Enhance Skill active for most of my social skills and Enhance Stat for Charisma as even though I wasn’t concerned about how our earlier negotiation went, I didn’t want him thinking I was an easy mark. “And the most piercing green eyes.”

Watto glanced back at Bo, probably imagining what she looked like under her armour; though I suspected that if he could see her face currently, he’d fly away. Her anger – which was directed at both Watto and me – was radiating off her in waves and, when I’d glanced at her, I’d seen Anakin had subconsciously taken a few steps back.

To help convince him further to at least enter negotiations for I jangled my bag of gems as I stopped powering Silence. “I’m more than able to meet a price; provided it’s not daylight robbery,” I said as his eyes locked on the bag. Since we’d already settled on the initial price for the missiles, he’d seen what was inside the bag. “So we can at least see if a deal is possible.”

“Hmm,” Watto mumbled as he once more scratched his chin. “The boy is young but smart. Unlike any I’ve seen before. Finding a replacement to cover his work would be difficult, and when he’s older he’ll easily be able to do the work of at least two other slaves.” He paused and turned to me, greed in his eyes. “A hundred and ninety druggats.”

I felt my eyes widen in shock at that price. “That… is a high price.” I said slowly as I processed what he’d said.

I’d expected him to demand around ten thousand credits for Anakin – the upper ceiling of the going rate for a skilled slave from what I’d been able to gather – but his starting price was a little north of fifteen thousand. He either didn’t particularly want to sell, or had some kind of connection to the boy. Or possibly both.

“As I said, the boy has potential, plus I have grown fond of him over the years,” Watto replied with a confident smirk.

“Wouldn’t you be prepared to let them go for a hundred druggats?” I asked, not expecting him to accept but wanting to set a lower floor to give me more room to work with.

Watto scoffed. “That would barely cover one replacement for the boy.”

I shrugged as we pulled back to allow the conversation to happen loud enough for Bo and Anakin to hear. “Still, he’s young and hasn’t been formally trained yet. Perhaps one twenty would be acceptable?” I asked. Again, I didn’t see him accepting but I wanted him to at least begin to negotiate. The sooner he did that, the more I felt I had a chance to pull this off.

“Yes, he’s young. But I saw him modify a vaporator when he was barely three just before I won them. That kind of skill cannot be taught.” Watto boasted proudly, as if he saw himself as some sort of genius for discovering Anakin. “One-eighty.”

I looked at Anakin, then at Bo, making it appear that I was weighing if that price was worth it to bed Bo. While I’d never actually try to pay to get her in bed, it was the idea I’d planted in Watto’s head as my motivation, so I had to play the role. “If he’s as skilled as you say, then the price makes sense, but I’ve yet to see any proof of that. One-thirty.”

"A test then,” Watto offered, and he flew over to the centre of his shop. “Pick any object in here and ask the boy to either fix it if it’s broken or improve it if it isn’t.” He saw as he spread out his short, stubby arms. “If he can, then we settle on one-sixty. If not, one-fifty.”

I folded my arms as I appeared to consider the offer/test. Even at the lower price I’d be paying twelve-hundred credits for Anakin, but that was a minor issue. No, this was actually useful as not only would I see just how skilled Anakin was now, but Bo would as well. Having another voice to comment on that skill to my masters would be helpful in convincing them of my plans for Anakin. “Very well, but so that things are fair, my companion will select the object and you can watch her.” I suggested before jerking my head at Anakin. “I’ll talk with the boy while you do that and get the earlier payment we agreed on ready.”

“Hmm, very well. But no funny business.” Watto remarked, pointing one stick-like finger at me.

[Take him to the far corner first.] I said to Bo telepathically. [I want to speak with the boy for a few minutes before the test.] She didn’t react outwardly to my voice in her head, though a bout of annoyance radiated from her in the Force. Curiously, I saw Anakin’s eyes shift from me – where they’d been stuck since I’d started negotiating to buy him – to Bo. Now that was interesting.

Bo walked to a far corner of the shop, Watto flying close behind and, once they were out of earshot, I moved closer to Anakin.

“Are you a Jedi?” he asked as soon as I moved. That made me glad I’d reapplied Silence around us, otherwise Watto would’ve heard him, and the jig would’ve been up.

“What makes you think that?” I asked back as a small smile crept onto my face.

“I saw your laser sword,” Anakin replied, which only made my smile grow. “Only the Jedi carry such things.”

I knelt slightly to allow me to look the younger boy in the eyes. “Well first it’s called a lightsaber and is far, far more than a simple laser sword,” I explained as I took in the innocent, youthful features of the boy who in another timeline had become Darth Vader. “And what’s to say I didn’t kill a Jedi and take it from him?” I asked back, revelling in the call back to the Phantom Menace.

The young boy shook his head. “No. No one can kill a Jedi.” His tone was that of a child that was convinced he was right, with there being little anyone could do to convince them otherwise.

I chuckled and glanced over at Bo. “My companion would beg to differ. Mandalorians have been killing Jedi and Sith for longer than either of us have been alive.” I pulled open my robes and showed him my shoulder. While the flesh had been regrown – via a combination of medical tech and Fay using the Force – the scarring was still there. “A Mandalorian did this to me, though I did win in the end.”

“Then why are you with a Mandalorian?” He asked, his eyes having widened as he saw the scars. Yes, I could remove them with the Force or surgery, but for now I wanted to keep them. They, and the ones from that blasted dragon, served as reminders that while I was powerful, I wasn’t invincible. Even beings without access to the Force could kill me with the right level of training and equipment. Case in point Ebrn Awaud. The leader of the Death Watch faction that I’d fought and killed to save Darth Plagueis – I was still trying to get my head around why the Force had arranged for that to happen – had been considered a dangerous warrior to the Mandalorians. He had been skilled in Tera Käsi, a martial art form designed specifically to fight Force users by making the most skilled practitioners able to keep up with Jedi in close quarters combat.

“Not all Mandalorians are war hungry maniacs,” I replied as a smile came to my face. Bo actually was, but Anakin didn’t need to know that now. “Nor are all Jedi locked away in the Temple on Coruscant. Some of us go out into the galaxy and try to do some good.”

“Is that why you want to buy me?”

“Yes, to a degree.” I began to reply, though not before glancing to make sure Bo and Watto were still a good distance away. They were currently examining what looked like a pit droid, but all I was concerned about was the distance between us. “The Force guided me to this world, this ship, to find you. The Force is strong in you, and I see you becoming a great and powerful Jedi.”

“Really?” His eyes widened at my words before he deflated. “What about my mum?”

I stiffened as she hadn’t yet come up. “Once I’ve arranged your freedom, I’ll speak with Watto about her. I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to free her as well.”

“Y-you mean we’ll both be free?” His words were quiet but hope and desire were radiating from him so brightly that I had to stop using Detection as he was blinding my ability to sense others in the Force.

“If all goes well, then yes. But first you need to stay calm and fix whatever my friend brings to you.”

“I can keep a secret.” He said, a smile spreading across his face. I smiled back and ruffled his hair. That made his smile slip slightly, but not enough to hide how happy he was.

I turned to see Bo and Watto approaching and dispersed the bubble of silence I’d been generating. “Found something?”

“Aye. This droid is broken and according to the Toydarian, only came into the shop today. He claims the boy hasn’t seen it before.” Bo answered and even with her voice modulated by the helmet, her annoyance at what we were doing was easy to hear. I just knew that, if she’d have been in charge, we’d have blasted in guns blazing, stolen the Skywalkers, gotten the deactivation codes for their implants and left this planet in the rear-view mirror. While there was an appeal to that, I’d rather not risk having another Hutt angry with me; especially since I’d learnt that Gardulla – who currently controlled Mos Epsa – was Decca’s progenitor and, at the current time, was just as powerful as Jabba.

“Good. Set it on the table,” I instructed as Watto’s eyes narrowed and he looked at Anakin and me. “I simply told the boy why he was being asked to fix this droid,” I added, giving the Toydarian a partially truthful answer, as those made the best lies. “That if he can fix this droid I’ll be buying and freeing him.”

“Hmm.” Watto muttered as Anakin moved quickly over to the table and climbed onto a chair so he could reach the droid. “That better be all you said to him.”

I smiled in response and turned to watch Anakin. Observe told me that the droid had a broken actuator, so I knew what was wrong with it. Now to see if Anakin was as skilled as Watto claimed.

The only sounds coming from the shop were for Anakin as he turned the droid over in his hands. I watched as he reached for a few tools and began to poke and prod at the droid. This went on for around two minutes before he placed the droid down on the table and tapped its power button. The droid stood up and began moving around the table, making the same noises as the pit droids in the Boonta Eve Classic race had.

“It wasn’t moving when I brought it over.” Bo said, confirming that Anakin had fixed it.

With a semi-reluctant sigh, I turned to Watto. “Very well. One hundred and sixty druggats.” I said, extending my hand for him to shake on it.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at me, but eventually he sighed then shook my hand. “Agreed.”

“What about my mum?” Anakin asked as his excitement at being freed fell. “You said you’d free her too.”

“I said I’d try,” I replied to him before turning to Watto. “Could we discuss her price?”

“No! I won’t allow it!” Watto screeched, which made waves of anger flood through the room, radiating from Anakin. I could feel the Force reacting to him and realised that if I didn’t step in, he might accidentally use the Dark Side before he even knew it existed. That could be very, very dangerous.

“I’ll match his price for her,” I offered quickly, trying to defuse the situation and saw Watto’s temper pause at the offer. “With all that money you can easily replace both of them and keeping his mother while he’s free would only result in her being less focused on her work.” I added as I came up with reasons for him to take the deal. Force Persuasion was still active, as was the boost to my Charisma and various social skills, so I had to hope they were helping.

Watto looked at me carefully, then down at Anakin. The boy’s face was inflamed with rage and if not for Bo placing a hand on his shoulder, I suspected he might try and attack Watto. With a sigh, Watto turned back to me. “I feel as though this was always your plan, and I don’t want to let both go. But your reasons are… valid.” He reached into his pocket as he continued. “However, I think we should leave this up to chance.” He said as he pulled a small cube from the pocket. “One simple role. Blue, and I’ll agree to sell both mother and son to you. Red and you’re only getting the boy and can’t come back for her in the future.”

I considered his offer as he turned a familiar dice over in his hand. There were two blue sides and four red, so the odds weren’t in my favour. Though if he was willing to stack the odds in his favour, I was more than happy to do the same; and have a call back to Watto’s deal with Qui-Gon.

“Regardless of how the dice lands, you promise to give me the implant codes free of charge?” I asked. His eye twitched, confirming he’d been planning to extract more from me for that. While not unexpected, it was a touch predictable that he was willing to haggle over something that, from my brief overview of the laws regarding slave purchasing, shouldn’t be charged for.

“Fine, fine.” He agreed reluctantly, waving his free hand in the air. “But you can’t throw the dice, or do anything to it.” He added

“Fine, though I think Anakin should roll it. We are, after all, talking about his mother’s future here.” I suggested softly, giving Anakin a smile.

There was a moment’s silence before Watto grunted. “Fine.” He tossed the dice to Anakin, who almost failed to catch it as he simmered with rage. I wondered if that had been Watto’s plan, but Anakin foiled it by catching the dice before staring at the small object in his hand that would determine his mother’s fate.

“Trust in yourself and the Force,” I said to him. Since the deal had already been agreed, there wasn’t much Watto could do if he somehow discovered that I was a Jedi and giving Anakin encouragement was more important anyway.

He closed his eyes as his hand closed around the dice, before tossing it up into the air. It bounced twice on the table the droid was still moving around on, then over the side to the floor. There it bounced two more times, each time the arc and speed decreasing.

Sensing the Force beginning to swirl around us, I reached out through it for the dice, planning to shift it and force a blue side to finish face-up. Yet, as I touched the dice through the Force, I felt another moving there. It was faint but powerful and I could easily sense that it was coming from Anakin. It seemed that knowing what was at stake he was unconsciously calling on the Force to help him.

Placing my trust in him and the Force, as I’d just told him to do, I pulled back from the dice. It bounced one more time before settling with one of the two blue faces looking back at us from the topside.

“Wahoo!” Anakin called out and jumped from the table. While I was happy for him, I turned my attention to Watto. While unlikely, there was always a chance he’d reneged on the deal.

He glared at the dice, then at me before sighing loudly and turning to face Anakin. “Go. Find your mother and then prepare your belongings. After we’ve sorted out payment, I’ll bring these two to your home to collect you.” He said grumpily.

“I’d like my friend to go with him,” I interrupted before Anakin could run from the shop – something he was mere moments from doing. “While I don’t think you’d renege on our deal, there’s always a chance. Plus, Mos Espa isn’t a friendly city. We were, after all, attacked on our way here.”

“Fine, fine.” Watto replied, waving his hand in dismissal.

I turned to Anakin and smiled. “Go on then. Find your mum.” His smile threatened to rip his face in two, but before it could, he ran from the shop heading towards the junkyard. I chuckled and turned to Bo. “Yes, I know we’ll need to talk but keep them safe.” She nodded before walking out after the overly excited boy.

Once she’d left, I turned back to Watto. He’d picked up the dice and was glaring at it. “Now, while I tally the total of my payment for the part, Anakin and his mother, perhaps you could get the disarm codes for their implants?” I asked, opening the bag just enough that he could see the gems inside. His eyes widened as he saw just how much was inside – somewhere northwards of half a million if I had to guess – and he realised that I’ve been able to pay for the Skywalkers many times over if he’d taken a higher starting price.

As he turned his back to me and flew to a small office at the back of the shop, I allowed a smile to break out on my face. Yes, I still had to formally pay for the Skywalkers, but by the end of the day I’d have altered the timeline dramatically. Though that would generate some immediate issues.

Once back on the Ne’tra Sartr I’d have to introduce Anakin to Fay and Dooku, then convince the pair to not only not take the boy to the Temple – something I felt Dooku would be more supportive of than Fay – but perhaps, have them taken to the Lokella in the ShaDo system instead. That part of the conversation was going to be much more complicated as I suspected both would have issues with me deciding the near-term fate of two freed slaves.

If, and it was a big if, I could manage that I’d need to find a way to give him a few basic Jedi training techniques to keep him occupied until I was able to return and formally train him as my Padawan. And on that, I was still uncertain. Qui-Gon still felt like the best Jedi choice for training Anakin, but by taking the boy off Tatooine now, I was breaking that link before it could form; though that, and how the events of the Naboo crisis would play out now were issues for a little further into the future.

The Lokella might not be the best choice for Anakin, but with the system secured by former slaves with strong connections to me – as much as I disliked some of that – and having over half a dozen light ships for defence, it was as safe a location as I could find. Plus, with the Jedi having stopped their research of the station’s past as a Pius Dea Cathedral ship – according to Rachi – then there’d be no Jedi around to accidentally realise Anakin had the potential to be a Jedi.

Still, regardless of what the near-term held for the Skywalkers, with my actions today I’d royally kriffed up the timeline; but that was one of the reasons I’d come here and likely why The Powers That Be offered me the chance to come here.

Whatever came of this change was going to be a great adventure; one that, hopefully, wouldn’t end until long after I’d defeated Sidious and enjoyed my new life to its fullest.

… …

… …