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

A/N: Sorry for the slight delay. Real-life got in the way (as it likes to do).
Now onwards to dealing with the aftermath of the attacks on Keldabe and Sundari and the leaving Mandalore sector.

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Current date: 4 years until the Invasion of Naboo

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Spoiler: Mandalorian Words and Phrases:

Mandalorian Words and Phrases:
Alor – Chief
Ani'la Akaan – The Great Last Battle (The battle of Malachor V)
Ba'gedet'ye – You're welcome.
Beskad – Sword made of beskar.
Beskar'gam – Armour.
Dral'Han – The Mandalorian Excision.
Jurkad – Attack
Te Tsad Droten liser murcyur ner shebs! – The senate can kiss my ass!
Utreekovyc – Foolish
Naast be Me'suum – Revan (Destroyer of Worlds)
Vor entye – Thank you/I am in your debt.

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The Warrior Reborn 5
…​

“Once again, I must offer my heartfelt thanks for your timely intervention,” Hego Damask said as we walked onto a transport that had just landed in the plaza outside Mandalmotors tower. “Without it, I, and likely everyone else left alive inside the building, would have died.”

I turned and looked up at the tall Munn. It was a hard balancing act. I was trying to appear normal, respectful, and attentive, while at the same time not staring or being otherwise overt. Mainly because I was concerned that too much of either might have him realising that all was not well. Meanwhile, inside I was still reeling from the terrifying revelation I’d gotten from what began as a casual Observe.

Spoiler: Hego Damask

Hego Damask [Darth Plagueis]
Race: Munn
Level: 64
Health: 90% (Transpirator mask required)
Age: 104
Force Potential: Very High
Threat Potential: Extreme
Reputation: Neutral [Locked]
Affiliation Loyalty: Himself (100%), Order of the Banite Sith Lords (85%), Darth Sidious (90%)
Emotional State: Curious/Calm/Relieved
Darth Plagueis, the Dark Lord of the Sith, is extremely interested in you for a variety of reasons. Your willingness to use the Dark Side when the situation demands it, along with your family lineage and the massive increase in your midi-chlorian count mark out as someone of interest to the Dark Lord.
While he wishes to learn more about you, he understands that even hinting that he can use the Force runs the risk of alerting you to his true nature. As such, he is willing to take a long-term approach to gain your trust and, potentially, see if you could be beneficial to the Sith’s Grand Plan.
Because of the nature of his order of Sith, he is grateful for your intervention as it saved him from risking his cover to protect himself.
…​

Yeah, to say I’d been walking on eggshells for the last two or so hours would be an understatement. Though it was amusing, in a sort of sick and twisted way, that the person Fay had tasked me with saving – and that the Interface had rewarded me for saving – was Darth Sidious’ Sith master.

Truthfully, right until I’d used Observe on the Munn, I’d been comfortable around him, even enjoyed his presence to some extent. The ride down the elevator to the lobby – or what remained of it – had covered why he was here and who he was. Yet, when we’d been approached by a Protector-Captain, I’d decided to use Observe on the Munn, and Force was I glad I did.

Plagueis had sensed it, of that I was certain, but because I was able to school my surprise – and shifted my attention to Gar and Rook as they entered the lobby with their squad – it seemed he’d not grown suspicious of the unusual effect that power had on the Force. Or at the very least, he hadn’t reacted when I’d used it.

Still, on the chance Sidious had mentioned the time I’d used Observe on him, I made sure to use the power on others as well. While this would make it clear I was using the power, it would – hopefully – remove the suspicion that I had specifically targeted Plagueis with it while not letting on that I now knew who the kriff I’d just saved.

As was my right as a Mandalorian, I’d looted – ahem, relieved of possessions – the bodies of the attackers on the top floor, lamenting that I didn’t have time to go back and do the same to the rest of the grunts that I’d beaten on the way up. I’d taken the three sets of beskar armour as well as the beskad wielded by the leader. After arriving outside, I’d moved over to Gar and his squad – well, the squad he and Rook were members of as it wasn’t actually his squad – and lazily dropped the body of the female Death Watch warrior at their feet. It was fortunate that I’d removed her armour as I was able to quickly stun her when she began to stir in the lift down.

I was grateful that Plagueis hadn’t decided to act against me as with one arm out of commission and my FP reserves only just recovering to ten per cent by the time I dropped the Death Watch female on the ground – that’ll teach me for trying to Force Persuade several dozen Death Watch to lay down their arms and surrender – I’d have been rag-dolled by the Sith Lord. Not that it would have made any difference if I’d been at full strength. Force, even if the three of us – mostly Fay and Dooku, with me as BM support – all worked together, I still doubted we could take him; not without at least two of us dying in the process since one of them would be distracted needing to shield me.

Honestly, I’d have preferred to have placed a blaster in my mouth and save myself the pain than try to engage a Sith Lord any time soon.

And, of course, there was the fact that I now had both Sith Lords interested in me. That meant I’d have to be extra careful about when, or if, I brought Anakin to the Jedi. Though if I could avoid them learning about Anakin until much, much later than Naboo I’d be grateful. While I wasn’t happy about having their gaze on me, I felt I stood a better chance than a nine-year-old Anakin had when he’d first come to the attention of Sidious. All things considered, not bringing Anakin into the limelight was looking to be a better option all the time.

Plus, in the hour or so that we’d stood around in the plaza waiting for the transport to arrive – which we were now boarding – I’d considered a few ways I could make having both Sith Lords watching me work to my benefit. Now, stopping the Clone Wars was unlikely – not least as I was feeling that both the Republic and Jedi needed the war as they’d both grown lax and corrupt (though in different ways), not to mention the ominous quest reward/warning – but perhaps there was a way I could delay the war. Or at least the sides by trying to create discord between the two Sith. From my limited knowledge, the Sith usually end up betraying each other.

Yes, it was unlikely, and if I made a wrong move, it could have both of them gunning for my head more actively, but it was something to consider. Still, the potential to irritate the Sith “Grand Plan” was there. Though how, when, and where were something that I’d have to give careful thought to. Preferably once there were several systems between myself and Plagueis.

The female Death Watch Warrior had been hauled off by another Protector squad, and the Protector-Captain had thanked me for capturing her. Since she’d been in the trio that had attacked Damask – their apparent target in the raid on Mandalmotors – it suggested she was high up in their leadership, and the Protector-Captain felt she’d be a useful source of information, once they broke her.

After the Death Watch trooper had been dragged away, Gar’s squad had been assigned by the Protector-Captain as an escort for Plagueis. The Munn had eloquently explained that, after the events of today, he was uncomfortable placing his security entirely in the hands of Mandalorians and wished for me to have overall control of the operation. The Protector-Captain had agreed quickly, though I saw that the Zabrak in charge of Gar’s Squad, Roprun, was less than thrilled with the plan.

That had left me spending the last two or so hours in the presence of a Sith, who according to Sidious, had the power to create life and a squad of Mandalorians that, outside of Gar and Rook, didn’t seem overly happy to be stuck working with a Jedi; even a Mando’ade one. Possibly that was because I’d done what they and the other Protectors couldn’t and saved Plagueis and ended the Death Watch attack, or possibly they just didn’t like any Jedi. Yes, I was fully recognized as a Mando’ade, and one of their people, but some clung to the fact that I hadn’t fully renounced my former life as a Jedi. Those hardliners saw me as trying to straddle the line between a Mando’ade, and an aruetii.

Plagueis, rather expectedly, had spent the majority of the time conversing with me. I’d been cautious when talking, which when asked I’d explained as me not being overly trusting of politicians and businessmen, but overall, the conversation had been a generally enjoyable one, if I overlooked who I was talking to. Plagueis kept the topic to simple things, like where I was from, what I thought about the Mandalorians, the Republic and the like, but I could tell he was using everything I was saying to paint a picture of me; and likely comparing it to the one Sidious had given him.

While I’d been as vague in my answers as I could, the Munn had shown a scary level of intelligence and seen my underlying opinions on a few matters. He spoke with a gravitas that made it clear that, even without the Force to do as he wished, he could make others see things from his point of view. He’d explained the public reason that he’d come to Mandalore as Hego Damask, and while some of the things he added in seemed dull as shab, his approach to speaking made it easy to see how he came to certain opinions. Kriff, I even found myself agreeing with him on a few matters – such as the weakness of the Senate, and the issues with the Outer Rim – which was an eye-opener.

Yet, since I knew who he truly was, a voice in my head had me always wondering if what he was saying was how he truly felt, if it was spun to make it more appealing to me and the Mandalorians around us, if it was in keeping with his public persona, or – and this was my suspicion – that it was a mixture of those.

As Damask, an investment in Mandalmotors made sense as they were a stable company – today notwithstanding – with reliable profit margins. Yet, as Plagueis, I could see why an investment here might also allow him a way to, potentially, be able to monitor my actions in the sector. That concern made me glad that Duke Torrhen and I had decided to hold off on revealing some of the things left by Canderous in the vault to others.

“And once more, I must state that I feel you are overstating my importance in today’s events,” I replied in a calm voice even if inside I continued to feel as if I was parleying with a predator that could, if the desire arose, swipe me aside with contemptuous ease.

As we entered the transport, I slid to one side and let the taller alien take a seat of his choosing. I levitated my newly-acquired beskar suits into a corner out of the way to be retrieved once we arrived in Sundari. Behind us, several members of Gar’s squad entered, securing the rear. I knew the squad was under the command of Roprun, but the Zabrak had no interest in joining in the conversation between Plagueis and me, or otherwise making himself known, so I kept referring to the squads as Gar’s for simplicity’s sake.

My actions were simply the Will of the Force guiding me to my friends,” I continued as the Munn slid into a seat. “That same Will was why I was in a position to help with your extraction.“ I explained, mixing in some bog-standard Jedi drivel to make the Sith think I drank from the collective apathetic Kool-Aid; or at least knew how to fake that I did.

As two more of the squad – including Gar and another– entered the transport, I saw Rook and another member at the front of the compartment. The last two were outside, guarding the ramp while the seventh and final member was in the cockpit, serving as co-pilot. There should’ve been eight members to the squad, but one had fallen in battle, so the unit was working shorthanded. Even a person down, the squad had taken their role seriously, and I’d failed to find any obvious flaws in the plan drawn up by Roprun for securing Plagueis and myself on the transport.

Plagueis chuckled, which with his mask, sounded ominous and sent a shiver down my spine. “As you say. Yet, without the Will of the Force, I would be dead. As I suspect, would be your friends and our escort.” He glanced towards the entrance, and as I followed his gaze, I saw Bo and Naz entering.

A large bacta patch was on Naz’s arm, which was also held in place by a mechanical sling. While I’d wanted her to head to a medical station – as had the Protector medic who’d treated her – once she and Bo had learnt where Plagueis and I were heading, they’d all but demanded to join. Since both their fathers were in Sundari, and information from there was sporadic at best – suggesting the fighting was ongoing there – they’d wanted to come with.

The Protector-Captain had been fine with them leaving; likely as it meant he didn’t need to assign another squad or two to guard duty. Before he’d left, however, he’d commended both of them on their actions today and promised that, once the time came, he’d be looking for their names to pass over his desk if they chose to serve in the Protectors in Keldabe.

Roprun, on the other hand, hadn’t said anything but it was easy to sense his displeasure, which I could understand. Four HVTs were harder to protect with a squad than two, even if three were known fighters, especially for a battle-worn and man-down squad.

“Possibly, though I suspect they’d have made it through without me,” I responded carefully, being mindful of my emotions. I didn’t need him picking up on anything beyond them being my friends and considering using them as ways to get to me. He was aware – as was pretty much everyone now – that the two were my friends, even if the way Naz kept glancing at me made it clear she still wanted more than that. “And I’m sure that someone in your position, who has survived previous attempts on your life, would have a few tricks up their sleeves – so to speak – to protect themselves.”

“Yes, that is certainly true,” Plagueis agreed as I eased into a seat in the same row – though across the aisle – from him. “Though I am unsure if such tricks, as you call them, would be effective against such battle-hardened warriors as the Mandalorians.” He paused and glanced out of the window before appearing to sigh. “My Sun Guard are, or were, regarded as one of the most elite fighting units in the galaxy, and were a group I hired after the attack that left me wearing this,” he pointed at his transpirator mask, “however today, they proved insufficient against a terrorist attack.”

“To be fair, they were caught in a surprise attack, isolated and probably targeted by Death Watch.” I countered as I put aside any feelings that might have been invoked by the display Plagueis had just put on. “That tells me your attackers considered them a threat to be eliminated with extreme prejudice and haste, and without them, you’d have been long dead by the time I arrived.” I paused as memories of how my ‘grandfather’ had died to protect me, and former squadmates in my former life had died in the line of duty. “Sometimes that is all we can ask for.”

Plagueis turned his attention back to me, and his eyes narrowed. “You’ve lost someone.” He commented, either sensing my emotions in the Force or detecting a hint in my voice that I was drawing on memories. Or possibly both. While using the Force would be a subtle thing for the Sith around Jedi, the Munn had decades of experience reading people – as both Plagueis and Damask – and would detect an opening that many others would likely miss.

Though in this case, it was an intentional opening I’d allowed. I needed him to think I was slightly opening up to him in the aftermath of the battle, and my latest brush with death. It was better to do that, I felt, than act standoffish and risk him wondering if I sensed something off about him.

“My grandfather,” I began slowly, intentionally not making eye contact by looking down at the floor. “When I was eight, our house was attacked, and he died to protect me. So I could escape and survive.” That wasn’t anything more than he should already know, but by keeping the story out there, it created a picture of who the Sith would think I was. The less chance there was that Plagueis felt I was an unstable element in their plans, the longer I’d have to prepare and develop counters to it undetected and unmarked.

And to somehow get to a level where Plagueis wasn’t listed as an extreme threat; if such a thing was possible. Which wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Force, the only being I’d Observe’d with a higher level was Yoda. Yes, the Grandmaster was listed as an extreme threat – as was Mace Windu and a few other Jedi – but I had a feeling that if it came down to it, Plagueis would likely win any fight between them. After all, this was the being that Sidious had to supposedly kill in his sleep to defeat. And Sidious had been, in my opinion, toying with Yoda during their duel in the Senate Chamber. Admittedly, that would’ve been years since he’d killed Plagueis, but if he could do that, then I had to rate Plagueis even higher as a threat.

Though the comparison between Sith and Jedi leaders had me wondering just how important levels were in determining the threat potential – along with skills and abilities – of a being. Yoda was at a higher level than Plagueis, but my money would be on the Munn. Perhaps levels – or what the Interface saw as levels in others – didn’t decay with age, whereas skills certainly would. Kriff, I’d suffered from that until I’d gained Eidetic Memory.

“I was under the impression that Jedi were raised from a young age at the Temple on Coruscant,” Plagueis stated, drawing me from my thoughts about the way the Interface displayed information about others to me. I looked up to see his brow had risen in apparent surprise at my comment about knowing my grandfather.

I shrugged as I spotted Bo and Naz slide into the seats in the row behind mine. “Most Jedi are brought to the Order at a young age, though with how few Jedi there are, many slip through the cracks.” Even as they settled into their seats, I could sense their curiosity at what I was now talking about. That wasn’t surprising as how the Jedi went about gaining recruits wasn’t a widely known thing. Plus, the chance to learn more about my past was also likely a factor in their curiosity. “Thankfully, without the Sith around to scoop up the missed children, there generally isn’t an issue when Seekers overlook a random child on a backwater world in the Republic.”

“Seekers?” Bo asked, drawing herself and Naz into the conversation.

I turned in my seat and glanced between the gap between mine and the empty window seat to see the pair behind me. “Jedi that travel around the Republic to seek out beings strong in the Force,” I smirked as I said the bad pun, which made Bo roll her eyes. “If they’re young enough, then they’ll try to convince the parents to let the Jedi take the child.”

I turned back to Plagueis before continuing. “However, there aren’t that many seekers, so it's likely that there are many children that get missed. Plus, some worlds and people aren’t exactly fans of the Order,” Bo snorted loudly at that but said nothing, “so they might falsify records regarding how the Force is detected in individuals.”

As I finished, my mind turned to Naz. Her Force potential was in the same range as Obi-Wan’s, so she should’ve been picked up by a Seeker. That meant that either Pre, his now-deceased wife, or both, had arranged things so that she wasn’t detected. Either by hiding Naz’s true midi-chlorian count (much as my mother had done for me) or by keeping a Jedi away from Naz until she was far too old to be taken for training. And given the general animosity in the sector regarding Jedi, it wouldn’t have been too hard to find friends and allies to help with that.

“But what about the children these seekers miss? Wouldn’t leaving such people free to roam the galaxy constitute a threat to the Jedi and the Republic?” Plagueis asked, playing his role as Damask well. As with my time with Sidious pretending to be Palpatine’s nephew, there was much I could learn from the Sith about how to interact with others and deceive them with my words. “The Force, from my understanding at least, is an immense source of power that can be used to do incredible things.”

“The Force is an incredible thing, that is true,” I began as a quote ran through my head. “Though to call it a source of power is not entirely accurate. The Force is an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us; it binds the galaxy together.” I said with a small smile.

My eyes shifted back to the two girls, and as I caught their eyes, I continued. “That moment when you find yourself lining up a shot, and know deep inside the perfect time to squeeze the trigger,” I turned back to Plagueis to use an analogy more suited to his public occupation, “or when, in a meeting, you are certain that the agreement of investment you are about to make is the right call; even when the figures don’t entirely support your feelings. That is a moment when, even if most people don’t realise it, the Force is working through you.”

I turned my attention away from all of them and glanced out the window as the engines powered up. “Though sometimes what the Force is trying to achieve isn’t for us to understand. Which is a source of much debate to many within the Order.”

I turned back, taking me time to let the Force pick up on their feelings as my eyes passed over them. Naz seemed pleased with my words, though Bo looked conflicted. That was likely due to me suggesting the Force was helping her be a better fighter, as I knew she prided herself on being as good as she was through hard work and training.

Plagueis appeared to be considering my words, but I suspected it was all a ruse. Likely, He was placing what I’d said alongside other comments I’d made – both today and while staying with Palpatine – and actions I’d taken to further develop a picture that he would use to predict my future behaviour. While it was hard for me to outright lie, especially with how I’d gone about things today, I hoped that, in this battle, I was doing a decent enough job of concealing my true intentions.

“Are you saying that anyone, regardless of their connection to the Force, can make it work for them?” He asked slowly. While his tone was calm, the phrasing of his words was a clear trap. If I used a bog-standard Jedi response about us serving the Force, then it might raise some flags in his mind. During my time with Palpatine, I’d subtly – I hoped – questioned the Jedi Order’s philosophy, so changing tack and now suddenly being a full convert to the Jedi Kool-Aid wasn’t an option.

“In a sense, yes. Though to say we can make the Force work for us is more akin to what the Sith Order of old believed. To bend the Force to one’s will isn’t something a Jedi should do. They should allow it to guide their actions, to place them where it needs a Jedi to be to react,” I paused and glanced through the gap in the seats to see Bo’s mouth creeping open.” Yes, I’m well aware that doesn’t sound like me.” I commented, cutting off her remark. She scowled at my behaviour, though as I turned my attention back to Plagueis, I sensed a burst of amusement from Naz – and the faintest hint of curiosity from the Sith Lord. “As these two know, I’m much more inclined to act first than react, if I can help it.”

“Does that not cause issues with your Masters and fellow Jedi?” Yeah, Plagueis was clearly using this as a chance to probe where I stood in the Order. Logical, but thankfully also something I’d expected him to do.

I shrugged in response and leaned closer as if confiding in him. “It does, and I suspect that after my actions today I’ll get another few weeks added to the seclusion my masters have planned for me.”

I sighed, letting the faintest hint of my real annoyance at having to spend months doing nothing seep out. “However, even if I knew the outcome was a few years stuck in the Temple, I’d have done what I did today all over again. Sitting around and doing nothing just isn’t my nature,” I heard Naz try to hide a snort.

“But,” I continued while ignoring her, “The Jedi approach is still a better one than what I’ve learnt about the Sith approach. Perhaps there’s another way. Some sort of middle ground.” I leaned back into my chair and turned to look out of the window, mumbling at a volume just loud enough that I suspected Plagueis could hear it. “Perhaps not. I guess I’ll just have to see what the future holds.”

A silence fell over the small group, though it was a comfortable one as I allowed the others to digest what I’d said.
I suspected that the two Mandalorian girls behind were, to varying degrees, wondering if what I’d said suggested there was a chance I’d leave the Jedi; and what they could do to facilitate such an event. They – and others – had commented more than once that I seemed more at home with the Mandalorians than I could ever be with the Jedi, and there was a kernel of truth to that. There was something familiar about going through training day in, day out that appealed, though that might just be a small part of my longing for my former life.

As for Plagueis, he would likely be comparing what I’d said so far today against what Sidious had revealed to him. Everything I’d said was close enough to what I’d hinted at several years ago, that he’d likely be developing a picture of me. A picture that, while allowing him a good idea of what I thought and held dear, wasn’t a complete enough picture to allow him to determine whether I was a threat to the Grand Plan; or whether I was a possible pawn to be used in furthering said plan.

There was also the possibility, based on what I’d revealed and my actions today, that he would be tempted to consider recruiting me into the plan. Though how he’d go about such a thing, I couldn’t say as my knowledge about Plagueis was non-existent. Save for the tragedy that Sidious had mentioned to Anakin not long before the young man had become Darth Vader, I was working blind on knowing how this being would behave.

Still, as I watched the transport begin to climb above the buildings around the plaza, I felt I’d done enough to keep the Sith Lord curious about me without the need to interfere in my actions at the current time. Which was about the best I could hope for.

In no way, shape or form was I ready to take on Sidious; never mind his master. All I could do was keep them, if not on-side, then out of the way of what I was hoping to build to counter their Grand Plan.

Yet as the transport accelerated and flew over Keldabe, my mind returned to my earlier idea. Driving a true wedge between the two Sith Lords would be a nigh-impossible thing, but even the slightest bit of discord might be useful. Any delay in beginning the Clone Wars would be extra time for me to prepare, and time was something one could always use when planning a war.
… …

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… …

A few hours later, after travelling over the dune wastes that remained from the Dral’Han, our transport began its landing approach towards Sundari. From what I could see out of the window, the city had been hit worse than Keldabe – though that might just be because the people of Sundari were unarmed whereas almost everyone in Keldabe was fully armed and armoured, even if most were not in actual beskar’gam.

“Shab.” Muttered one of Gar’s squad – the one with Rook near the front – and as I surveyed the damage, I had to agree with the comment.

I counted over two dozen smoke trails rising from various points on the dome, with the majority coming from impact points and wreckage on the dome itself. Yet, as we banked on the final approach, it was clear the docks – or at least the one we were heading towards – hadn’t escaped the damage. Various other transports on landing pads were wrecked, while below on the planet’s surface, I saw two gunships still ablaze from whenever they’d crashed. Given the scrape marks on the pad we were circling, it appeared that at least one of the gunships had been pushed over the edge and allowed to fall to the white sands that surrounded the city.

The dock we were landing at, and likely the others dotted around the outer dome, reminded me of the aftermath of terrorist attacks in my old life, which, given Death Watch was listed as a terrorist group, made perfect sense. As the transport vibrated gently and we landed, I saw several people hurrying around the dock. Some were checking wreckage, possibly in the faint hope they’d find survivors, while others were pulling tarps over bodies.

“I think we got off easy,” I muttered as I turned and looked back at my friends. Both were frowning, and Naz was biting her lip nervously. I couldn’t be sure if their reaction was because of the carnage they saw or concern about their families, but I was leaning towards the latter.

“While I might find that hard to hear, given I was mere moments from death before your timely intervention, I must concur with your assessment Cameron,” Plagueis replied, having heard my comment. Him using my given name instead of my rank or last name was a touch presumptuous but given that I’d recently ‘saved’ his life, such things were semi-expected. Yet, to Plagueis, I suspected he was using my name to try and develop some familiarity between us which he would then use to manipulate me at a later date. Like master, like student.

Logical, but fucking annoying, and something that only seemed to make the pain in my shoulder worse each time he spoke and I had to analyse his words. All this second (and third and fourth) guessing everything he said or did was slowly wearing down my remaining resistance.

“Kast, Valern.”

Rook and her partner moved towards the exit, while the rest of the squad moved to stand between one of us (Plagueis, Bo, Naz and myself) and the door. I could see and feel Bo bristle at the implication that she couldn’t defend herself and saw her hand clasp the pistol she’d acquired during the fight in Keldabe. While I could understand her annoyance, I respected the efficiency the squad moved with. I’d been on the other side several times before in my old life, so I understood why they moved as they did, and why I sensed trepidation from all of them.

The named pair stepped out of the transport before the ramp had fully lowered, and I spotted one of them sweeping the area with their rifle. That again spoke to them being well trained and treating the LZ as a hot zone until it was confirmed otherwise. Two more quickly slid out, leaving Roprun, Gar and the last to act as cover for their HVTs.

I reached out with the Force, taking in everyone nearby. The four who’d exited had adopted a defensive semi-sphere around the ramp. Slightly more than two dozen others were within a hundred metres of the transport, with four moving towards us. None of them had any hostile intent, though all were on high alert, which was hardly a surprise after the attack.

“Magister Damask, as we exit, please stay between myself and Protector Saxon,” Roprun said without taking his eyes from the ramp and what he could see outside. “Our landing area is secure, however until we meet our escort, I’d prefer to keep you close.”

I caught Plagueis’ shoulders moving and, if he were human, I suspected he’d have rolled his eyes at Roprun’s paranoia. “As you wish,” he glanced my way, “however I would feel safer if Padawan Shan exited just before I did. After the events of today, I find myself with a less than healthy amount of trust in Mandalorians.”

“Those aruetii were not Mando’ade,” Bo all but spat out in a voice barely above a whisper. Like the other Mandalorian inside and outside the transport, her anger had spiked at Plagueis’ comment.

“Be that as it may, Miss Kryze, those who attacked us today wore the armour of your culture. They spoke the language and carried your weapons. To an outsider such as myself, it is hard to differentiate between yourselves and this Death Watch.” Plagueis’ tone was soft and polite, but the comment about the armour, language, and weapons felt, at least to me, as a subtle prod against the Resol’nare that governed how a traditional Mandalorian should behave. Then there was the fact he’d used her family name to address her. Using that made it clear he not only knew who she was but who her father was as well.

Bo tensed further at his words, though I didn’t know the exact reason why as both things I’d noticed would likely irritate her. A rage – one that hadn’t dissipated since the attack – grew inside her and I knew I’d have to step in and defuse things, lest she caused an incident with a powerful galactic figure.

“Relax Bo,” I said as I stepped towards her and laced my words with Force Persuasion. “In his situation, you’d likely do the same. Well, unless you chose to just shoot everyone and sort out the mess later.” That drew a chuckle from Naz and helped to dissipate some of Bo’s growing rage. That had me thinking about the old stereotype regarding redheads, but I wasn’t brave enough to mention that around Bo, particularly when her anger at what had happened was still simmering.

I turned my attention back to Plagueis. “Bo-Katan is just… infuriated by the actions of people who claim to want a return to the old ways but are willing to terrorise and kill those who don’t agree with them. The dishonourable actions of the false Mando’ade, as she rightly labelled them, is something that she’s taken personally. She, I hope, understands where you are coming from, even if she lacks the social graces to fully articulate that.”

Plagueis watched me intently as I diffused the situation before it could become volatile, and fractionally lowered his head in acknowledgement. “I understand, Cameron. And for what it is worth, Miss Kryze, I meant no offence to you or the members of your culture who honour the old ways.” Bo’s only response was to grunt, which when coupled with the turbulent storm of her emotions receding into a simmer, I took to mean she accepted the apology and wasn’t going to continue the argument.

With that settled, I stepped out of the transport. The four Protectors were, as I’d sensed, spread out in a rough semi-circle around the ramp. While none were in cover – mainly because there was none available near the ramp – all were on high alert with their rifles constantly scanning the area for potential threats.

The four Mandalorians that I’d been tracking moving towards us finally emerged through a large door – or rather through the arch where the door used to be – and made a beeline for us. Unlike the other locals that were moving around the docks, these four were armed with rifles instead of the ubiquitous stun-pikes the Sundari Guard used. Three were scanning the dock, helmets on and weapons raised, while the fourth had his helmet under one arm and a pistol held in a relaxed way in the other.

As my eyes met the un-helmeted Mandalorian, the briefest of snarls shot across his face, but anything he might have been thinking was pushed to the side as Plagueis stepped up beside me.

“Mayor Vizsla, I’m relieved to see a familiar face,” I started as I took a step forward. I reached Pre and his escort near Rook – I could tell it was her due to the weak bond we shared. “Since you’re here, is it safe to assume the city is secure?”

I already knew the answer as I could sense both my masters in the palace with neither being in distress, but it was better if Pre – and Plagueis – didn’t realise that I could sense them from this distance.

A flash of anger shot over his eyes as I spoke, and while it may have been aimed at Duke Anzur and the Death Watch element that attacked Keldabe, I suspected it was aimed at me. While I wouldn’t put it past Pre to order an attack on Keldabe – even if I considered it unlikely based on his character in the show and here – to do so with his daughter present, and being wounded, seemed a touch too far for him to go. Though perhaps her death before the Clone Wars was what made him so willing to do whatever it took to remove Satine from power and take the throne for himself.

“For the most part, yes. There is still intermittent fighting in the tunnels that appear to be nothing more than a rear-guard action by Duke Anzur’s forces. There are also a few isolated pockets of attackers that refuse to surrender, but those are well contained and will be overrun before the day has ended.” Pre replied, giving a far more detailed idea of the situation than I’d expected. His delivery was slow, but that was likely from having to seemingly defer to me which was something I could sense was irritating him. “Without the timely arrival of Duke Torrhen, his forces or the other Jedi,” his face twisted as he said that, making clear to all how much having to rely on the Jedi infuriated him, “I fear today would have been far more…”

“Dad!” Pre’s report was interrupted as Naz came down the ramp and spotted her father. Pre’s eyes widened at seeing her – and likely the large bacta patch that was secured against her immobilised shoulder – and as he stepped forward to meet his daughter, I slid to one side with the Sith Lord behind mirroring my actions.

As I slid, I saw that Naz had left Bo at the base of the ramp, and as a frown creased the redhead’s brow, Pre – who’d holstered his pistol in impressive time – hooked his now free arm around his daughter and scooped her up. She, in turn, wrapped her good arm around his shoulder and held him tight. While I knew a day was coming when I’d have to fight Pre, today was thankfully not that day, thus I could allow Naz to enjoy the reunion with her father.

“The bonds of family and friends,” Plagueis began in a soft voice that I suspected was only meant for my ears, “is one many would treat as a weakness to exploit. Today, you’ve proven that there is also strength in those bonds.”

I considered my reply as the Vizslas held each other, watching as Pre leaned down and whispered something to Naz. “I suspect the Jedi High Council may not be as impressed with my actions today as you, Magister,” I replied quietly. “From my dealings with them, most see bonds between friends and family, especially those created through the Force, as a potential pitfall.” Sensing rising worry and jealousy, I looked at Bo. The redhead was watching her friend share a moment with her father, and while Bo appeared calm on the outside it was easy to tell she wanted to check on her family. “Yet, if we cut ourselves off from those around us, what exactly is the purpose of life?”

Perhaps I was revealing a touch too much about my personal opinions on the Jedi and their guiding philosophy, but there shouldn’t be an issue with mixing in some truth with my diversions. After all, the best lies often contained a kernel of truth to them and after spending several hours around the more dangerous of the two active Sith Lords – I’d put questions about if Maul was, or ever truly would be, a Sith Lord to one side as it was a distraction I didn’t currently need – I felt I’d gotten a touch better at telling such tales.

“An intriguing question, but sadly one I fear I am unsuited to answer. Human philosophy is still a riddle I have yet to unravel, even after decades of trying.” Plagueis answered, and I felt he was telling the truth, or as much of the truth as he was willing to reveal.

As I saw Pre pull back from Naz, and brush a bang of hair from her forehead, I chose not to respond. He turned to face me as his free arm slid around her shoulder and her good arm around his waist.

“I owe you a debt, Alor Cameron. Vor entye.” He said before lowering his head. That he was willing to publicly admit such a thing and show me the honour of placing himself in such a position, said much about the man he currently was. That had me once more wondering if the loss of Naz, and possibly his son Tor as well, had been what drove him to commit heinous acts in his pursuit of becoming Mand’alor.

I lowered my head in acceptance of the debt even as I responded. “Ba'gedet'ye, Alor Pre.” We both lifted our heads and, as I continued, I gave Naz a small smile. “Though I didn’t do this to create a debt between our clans, but to save the life of a friend. Something far more valuable to me.”

While I would’ve liked to have denied the debt, as it may well cause many issues between us when the time came for me to remove him and Death Watch from the board, to do so would’ve been a grave insult to him; and other Mando’ade. Honour between clans mattered far more than I’d realised before coming here, and as I now was head of a clan (of one) I had to take that into consideration when dealing with such honour-bound cultures as the Mandalorians.

“My father…” Bo blurted out as her concern for her family, compounded by watching the Vizsla’s reunion, overtook her. A wave of anxiety came from the three warriors with Pre, who all bore the sigil of Clan Kryze on their shoulder plate, though Pre remained calm with no excess emotion bleeding into the Force.

Pre shifted his attention to her as he answered her open-ended question. “He lives, and is secure in the palace, along with the two Jedi Masters,” tension flowed from Bo’s shoulders upon hearing that, however, there are… other issues that your father wishes to discuss with you.” That had the tension return and I felt her fear spike for a moment before she got it under control.

“Relax Bo,” I said gently while lacing the Force subtly into my words. My mind began to play with scenarios even as I continued to speak. “Your father’s alive, and I’m sure Mayor Vizsla is here to escort us to him.”

I felt her anxiety lessen, though there was little outward sign of that, even as my mind wondered what sort of issues existed. Adonai was alive; however, Pre had purposely avoided mentioning anything about Dorgo, his wife or baby Korkie. That was concerning, but I knew that worrying about possibilities, or what could’ve gone wrong, was a dangerous road to head down, so I squashed those thoughts and focused on the present.

“The Je… Alor Cameron is correct, my lady,” Pre added as I mentally sighed in relief at Bo’s concerns lessening. The feedback from her and Naz through the Force was a pain in the arse, and while I now knew what to look for, and how to block such things – thanks to discovering the issue with Serra – sudden changes in emotional states could still unbalance me for a moment. “Your father has assigned me and these men to escort you, Magister Damask and Alor Cameron to him.” Pre turned to Plagueis and I had a sudden concern that the two would one day team up to work against me. “Magister, Dukes Adonai and Torrhen wish to speak with you. What has happened today has been an unmitigated disaster for our people, and with the loss of your guards, and the threat to your life, they wish to discuss compensation for the… difficulties you’ve experienced today due to these unforgivable acts.”

I had to stifle a chuckle at Pre calling Death Watch’s actions unforgivable. While the scene was amusing, any outward hint of a reaction to it would, apart from angering the Mandalorians, make Plagueis wonder if I knew more than I was letting on about the attacks.

For his part, Plagueis was calm as he considered Pre’s words. There was some movement of his facial muscles, but with the lower half of his face covered by his mask – especially when combined with how good an actor he was to hide his true status as a Sith Lord – it was virtually impossible to determine what those muscle shifts meant, especially considering that we were talking about Muun physical reactions and not humans.

“Understandable. Today has been, in a word, terrifying. Yet, I can not, nor will not, allow the actions of a misguided few to alter my perceptions about an entire culture; nor prevent me from finalising the arrangement I’d reached with Arde Yomaget and the rest of the Mandalmotors board.”

“I regret to inform you that Alor Arde died in the attack that almost claimed your life,” Pre replied slowly, and I hoped that would be the end of whatever business arrangement Plagueis had with Mandalmotors. “However, his replacement, Alor Dred Yomaget, and the surviving members of the company’s board have expressed an interest in continuing your discussions.” And there went my hope. “While Alor Dred is currently at Tusza shipyards overseeing the repairs to the facility, he has expressed the hope that you would be willing to speak with him via a private holocall at your earliest convenience.”

Upon hearing that, Plagueis tapped one long, bony finger against the edge of his mask. “I believe that, once things here and in orbit have been brought under full control, a face-to-face meeting with Dred Yomaget and the other members of the company’s board would be preferable. Apart from discussing the final details of our agreement, I feel offering my condolences in person would carry more weight.”

“Once we have reached the palace, I can relay your request to Alor Dred, beyond that, there is little I can do,” Pre answered, which drew a nod from the Munn.

“Acceptable.” He turned back to me and lowered his head.

“Then, unless there is any further business that needs to be discussed,” Pre began as he stepped back carefully – as Naz was still reluctant to let go of him – so the path to the large door frame through which he and his escort had arrived was clear. “Might I suggest we head to the palace?”

“Provided Padawan Shan feels it is safe,” Plagueis commented as he glanced my way. Pre’s brow creased at the deference shown to me by Damask – a simple, yet important banker in his eyes – yet I understood exactly why the Munn was doing this. Still, I couldn’t help but smirk at the irony of a Sith Lord’s willingness to follow my commands.

“After you, Mayor Vizsla,” I said, giving the man control. No reason to agitate the man’s pride when he was already struggling with the situation.

Pre nodded to me and replied as he slipped his helmet on. “Pre, Alor Cameron. For saving the life of my daughter, and the debt I now owe you.” His voice shifted as the helmet slid on, and it started coming through the speakers. “Titles are no longer needed.”

I lowered my head, “Then I also extended that to you, Pre. Vor entye.”

Pre turned without another word and headed off to take the lead of our group. While I doubted much had changed with the coming battle we’d have, I did feel the odds of being able to convince him to follow me had increased, if only slightly.

One of the Clan Kryze warriors with him dropped into step behind and to the right of Pre. Rook and Valern moved to flank positions for the pair. The rest of us followed, with Plagueis, Bo, Naz and me in the centre while the remaining two Clan Kryze guards took up the rear.

As we passed through the crumbled door frame that led from the dock into the city, I saw that even if the door was still attached it would’ve been useless. The mechanism that opened and closed the massive doors was a smoking pile of slag. Other signs of damage and destruction were easy to spot as we moved through the cargo storage area and, even if I wasn’t sure of what every area was for, it was clear that the attack was crafted to create maximum impact through the use of both widespread devastation and impeccable precision.

From the few bodies that weren’t fully covered by a tarp and the accumulation of discarded weapons, it appeared that the majority of the casualties in the dock and storage area were New Mandalorian guards. Given that the standard loadout for a New Mandalorian guard was usually a stun pike (or equivalent) and ceremonial outfits that could be called armour only if one squinted and twisted the term into the loosest possible parameters, I was entirely unsurprised to see that they had been so much death fodder for Death Watch.

What was more surprising was the fact that none of the surviving guards had thought to rearm themselves more sufficiently. They’d just had their asses handed to them and watched many of their fellow guards die, and while the choice of weapon wasn’t the deciding factor, it was a major one. Yet they were clinging to their ways even after this attack.

Kriffing di’kute, the lot of them.

Once clear of the cargo area, three atmospheric transports were waiting for us. Along with nearly two squads of fully armoured and armed Mandalorian warriors. One full squad of eight bore the sigil of Clan Ordo while the other five bore the sigil of Clan Kryze, each crest blazoned on the shoulder. The three guards that accompanied Pre rejoined the rest of their squad, and each squad took over one of the escort speeders while Pre led us onto the middle one and took the controls.

As we rose, I looked around and saw the damage the attack had wrought. There were more smoke trails than had been indicated from outside, with nearly three dozen such pillars rising into the dome, then filtering towards the holes in the dome’s surface. I spotted over a dozen buildings in ruins below, with about half having been crushed when a building that hung from the rafters had fallen on it. At a cursory check, it appeared that around half the buildings in the city had been damaged, with a fifth in need of serious repair work to be recoverable. Other locations, like the Peace Park and what I suspected was the prison complex, would need a complete rebuild as they’d been utterly destroyed. That suggested those places had been targeted directly by the attackers.

One other thing that stuck out was the disposition of casualties. While it was hard to be sure, since almost all bodies were under tarps, the discarded weaponry I was spotting was slowly changing from stun pikes to blasters and other more lethal weaponry. Now, there was the chance that citizens of Sundari had broken out their blasters during the attack, but from what I remembered of the city in The Clone Wars, that was highly unlikely. Therefore, I suspected that the fighting had grown more intense as the warriors loyal to Duke Adonai had counterattacked, then Duke Torrhen’s forces had joined in.

As we circled the palace, it was clear to everyone that this place had been attacked. The main entrance was a smouldering hole with the doors, or what remained of them, lying in pieces around the hole. Four fully armoured and heavily armed warriors were standing guard at the entrance. All four were behind makeshift cover, but the way they and their weapons were scanning the courtyard outside the entrance, I suspected that anyone foolish to approach without identifying themselves would be gunned down without the slightest concern for civilian casualties.

Once the flyer had landed, and Pre had stepped away from the controls, I spoke to him. “Casualties?” While I couldn't make out exact numbers from my birds-eye observation during the flight, the general sense of anguish, sorrow and growing fury made it clear the total would be high.

“The last report I saw listed over two thousand dead, with upwards of another ten thousand missing,” Pre replied tensely. While I knew he didn’t give a flying shab about those dedicated to the New Mandalorian ways, everything I knew about him made it clear he wanted the best for his people. To see so many die because of the failing of the Republic-backed ruling faction would likely only harden his resolve to remove the New Mandalorians from power in the future. Well, until I dealt with him.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I offered. While my skill with Force Heal wasn’t on the level of a dedicated Jedi Healer – or Fay for that matter – I’d improved the skill greatly since Serra’s verd’goten.

“That can be discussed with the dukes, and your Jedi Masters, once you’ve spoken to them,” Pre responded. His tone was sharp and his words clipped, which when combined by the rise in annoyance I sensed, made it clear he wasn’t happy at having a Jedi – even one he grudgingly accepted as Mando’ade – help with the sick and wounded.

Without saying another word, he slid past me and moved to the entrance to the flyer. I sighed in irritation at his behaviour. While I could understand it, letting people die when you could help them because of your ideals always struck me as fucking stupid. A hand slid onto my good shoulder, and from the size, I knew exactly who it was.

“I suspect he doesn’t intend to be so dismissive of you,” Plagueis began in a low, almost friendly voice. “From what I know of their culture, many have a low opinion of the Republic and the Jedi. Even one who has chosen to take part in their rituals is still, to many, an outsider and thus not to be trusted.” His words were true, but they were also something I knew from my time here. Still, he’d obviously seen this as an opportunity to keep developing a friendship with me, which was something I’d grown used to over the last few hours.

“I know, and I expected the response, but I still had to make the offer,” I replied as I slapped down a thread of fear at having a Sith Lord resting a hand on my shoulder. “And I suspect my masters have already extended similar offers to the dukes.” I reached out through the Force and a small smile came to my face as I felt their familiar presences in the Force reaching back. I turned to Bo as I sensed several others with them that I recognized. “He’s alive by the way. I can sense your father through the Force.” I offered to Bo.

Yes, Pre had stated that he was alive, but I wanted to reaffirm that as Bo’s rising concern was easy to see, let alone sense. She’d grown more and more agitated as the speeder flew through Sundari and approached the palace.

She gave me a quick nod, then turned and followed Pre, Naz, and most of Gar's squad from the speeder. I slipped from Plagueis’ grip and disembarked, with the Sith on my heels. The two squads of warriors that had been in the escort speeders had taken up positions beside the door guards, making it clear that entering this way would result in a quick death if you didn’t have permission.

Pre led us past the guards, with Gar’s squad taking up positions around us, and once we were inside there were clear signs that the place had been breached. Scorch marks covered the walls, along with the smouldering remains of curtains, drapes, and smashed ornaments littered the floor. Yet, there were no bodies on our path, which suggested they’d been removed to avoid obstacles or booby traps from anyone moving around in the aftermath.

As we neared the massive doors to the throne room, I felt Bo’s rising fear, which manifested in her pace slowing. With Naz staying close to her father, that left me to handle the matter. I considered saying something, but decided against it, and instead placed my hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed for a second before withdrawing it.

She looked at my hand, then at me. I gave her a small smile and indicated the doors ahead of us with a nod of my head. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then nodded to me before returning to her previous pace. I spotted Plagueis watching the interplay, but he said nothing. Hopefully, he wouldn’t think there was more to that than intended as if he went after Bo it wouldn’t matter to me as much as if he went after someone like Serra, or even Padme.

The doors to the throne room had seen battle, made clear by the scorch marks on them from blaster fire, but since the New Mandalorians had in their infinite wisdom used a giant sheet of beskar as a decorative cover for the doors, they’d withstood the attack far better than any other door in the palace.

As we stepped inside, slipping through the gap in the doors and the four well-armed warriors outside, Roprun moved his squad to the side. From there, I suspected they’d take up flanking positions covering the side doors and the large windows; or what remained of them. Though this action by the squad was superfluous as those positions were manned by more warriors from either Clan Ordo or Clan Kryze.

Near the throne, I saw both dukes and my masters deep in conversation with three others. Those three had their backs to me while two had their helmets on, so I couldn’t determine who they were, though as we approached, I suspected that would change.

A surge of relief came from Bo as she spotted her father. Unlike Naz, she didn’t run towards him, though her pace was only a little below a jog as she slipped past Pre and moved towards her father.

Adonai spotted her, and as I sensed relief flooding off him, he slipped away from the group and moved to meet her. Bo inhaled sharply as we all saw that Adonai was moving with the use of a cane as his left leg from the knee down was gone; replaced by a flimsy-looking mechanical replacement. I knew the technology existed to make far higher quality replacement body parts, so he’d likely chosen this simplistic one for speed of attachment and the need to stay in charge of the city as the aftermath of the attack was dealt with.

“BO!” He called out, which was enough for Bo to lose her restraint and run to him. As he dropped to one knee to catch her – and likely avoid falling over from the sudden weight shift on his new leg – I noted away that he’d used the same nickname for as I did. I remembered how angry she’d gotten when I’d tried to use that once, so the nickname likely held significance for her.

As the pair hugged fiercely, I felt fingers brush against my hand and turned to see Naz had moved next to me. I didn’t make any move to take her hand – mainly due to Plagueis being present but also because both my masters were now looking my way along with Duke Torrhen – but I still gave her a small smile.

“They haven’t hugged in years,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “Not since… her mother…” She paused and pulled her fingers back. “I wish it hadn’t taken us almost dying for her to start healing that rift.”

“Sometimes it takes us almost dying, or almost losing something, before we realise how much we need or miss it,” I responded. My mind drifted back to my old life, and the many former colleagues who’d died inside or outside the fire. I also had other regrets about my old life, and for a moment I wondered what had become of my former friends and family.

“He’d be proud of you, you know,” Naz murmured as I felt her hot breath on my ear. “Your grandfather. What you’ve done today, and what you’ve done for others, he’d be proud. As would your great-grandparents.” She added, having thought my moment of reflection was about my grandfather.

She hadn’t been entirely on the mark about why I’d been reminiscing, but her words were still comforting. Though I did wonder if what I’d done over the last few years had helped, in any way, to prove myself to Revan. I’d found HK’s head, which he’d essentially gifted me before he’d left for the Unknown Regions, given serious thought to walking a different path than the one trodden by the Jedi and Sith for millennia, and yet hadn’t even begun to walk said path, and started forming the barebones of a plan to restore the people he broke over Malachor V. Not the most prodigious of beginnings, and I still felt that I was no closer to understanding his quest than when it’d been revealed.

“Alor Cameron,” Adonai’s voice broke me from my thoughts, something I found myself getting more and more lost in as I started to develop more coherent plans for the future. I looked to see he and Bo had broken apart, though the girl was unwilling to let go of him. “Words cannot express my relief that my daughter is alive and well. Nor the debt I feel I owe you for saving her.”

He stood slowly, steadying himself with the cane as Bo helped him up. “When I learnt that Keldabe was under attack…” He paused and looked down at Bo. “I feared I’d lose another child, another link to my beloved wife. Hearing that you’d gone to rescue them and done something so insane as to leap from a descending warship without a jetpack to do so…” That drew a few looks from those who didn’t know the details of my arrival, along with causing Fay’s brow to crease.

He opened his mouth to continue, only to stop and wipe at one eye. “I owe you a debt I can never repay.” He finished as he came closer, dropped his hand and placed it on my shoulder.

Before I could respond, he stretched out his hand to me. I moved to shake his hand when he shifted and grasped my forearm in a warrior’s salute, grasping my shoulder tightly with his other hand. Though his decades of experience in battles and war kept his stoicism in place, I could see the depth of his gratitude conveyed in the shimmer of his eyes. It was clear how much my actions had meant to them.

“I, uh, ba'gedet'ye,” I mumbled, conscious of Bo and Naz’s amusement as well as my masters’.

His smile expanded even more. “If you weren’t already Mando’ade and a clan chief, I’d adopt you into Clan Kryze for your actions today.” He stepped back from me, Bo staying by his side, and looked past me. “Magister Damask, I’m relieved to see you alive and well. When I learnt of Death Watch’s attack on Mandalmotors, I feared the reputation of my people would be tarnished once more by their actions and your death at their hands.”

“Thankfully such a scenario was averted by young Cameron here,” Plagueis responded, once more praising me in front of others for my actions. It was a logical pattern to use as most pre-teens and teenagers sought validation from adults even if they didn’t realise that they wanted it. “A fact that has earned the young man my thanks and eternal gratitude.”

Adonai looked towards the Muun and smiled again in agreement, though this time as I looked at him, I saw it no longer reached his eyes. “Aye, Alor Cameron has a knack for being in the right place to do the extraordinary.” He glanced at me. “A sign of a good warrior and Jedi.”

I nodded in acceptance of his praise, then watched as his smile slipped. “C-could you take Magister Damask to speak to your masters? Th-there’s a personal matter I need to speak with Bo-Katan about.”

“Of course, Duke Adonai.” I spared the girl a glance as her anxiety spiked once more. While I doubted there was much I could do to help her for whatever Adonai was about to say, I gave her a weak smile and sent a wave of comfort to her through the Force. Her eyes widened as she felt my mental wave but otherwise gave no outward reaction.

With that, I turned to Plagueis. “Magister?”

He fell into step beside me and we made our way over to the throne. While I’d been talking with Adonai, Duke Torrhen had led the other Mandalorians away, leaving me to face my masters. While both appeared calm, I could easily sense their relief at my survival mixed with annoyance and disapproval over my actions.

“Masters,” I began with a bow, “I’m glad to see you were able to provide some support to Duke Torrhen here.”

Fay’s lips tightened as Dooku replied. “Indeed we were, though it would’ve been a far easier endeavour if we hadn’t been concerned about the wellbeing of our Padawan. Your unexpected departure from the Ori'kyroya'kar placed us both in an awkward position of having to become involved in an internal Mandalorian matter.” While he spoke in his normal stoic tone, I could pick up on his annoyance through the Force. And Fay’s displeasure and disapproval.

“However, it appears that our concerns were unfounded,” Dooku continued. “Not only did you manage to rescue your friends but save the life of Magister Damask as well.” At that, the two males nodded to each other. It seemed rather stiff for a reunion of old acquaintances, but Dooku wasn’t one for such, as he would say “unseemly displays”.

“That he did. Without Cameron’s actions, I fear those despicable terrorists would’ve murdered me and the duke’s daughter then escaped without repercussions.” Plagueis added as he stepped up beside me, almost as if he was trying to shield me from my master’s ire. “While his method for reaching the surface was most… unusual, there is little doubt it was effective. I, those two young ladies, and many other potential victims are alive today because of his actions. Though from what he has hinted at, his actions were taken without your permission. For that, I would ask for forgiveness on his part.”

Fay seemed to bristle at Plagueis’ request and for a brief moment, there was a spike in her emotions before she got them under control. “The training and punishme-”

“NOO!”

Whatever Fay was going to say was cut off by Bo’s anguished wail. At her wail, my head had snapped around to find she’d fallen to her knees. Her father was holding her hands and Naz was already moving to her. Given the absence of Dorgo and his family, it wasn’t hard to guess the source of her anguish. The sound had me taking a step to join.

“Cameron, that is a personal matter for Clan Kryze,” Fay began, making me stop before I could take a second step. “While Miss Kryze is your friend, you are a Jedi. We do not allow our emotional attachments to rule our judgement.” Her tone was firmer than I was used to, hinting that some of her issues with my actions today were colouring her words.

I watched as Adonai dropped to his good knee and Naz slid up behind Bo, pulling her into a hug. Bo’s head was in her hands and even without the Force to help, everyone in the room could tell she was in severe pain. Yet, with the Force, under the pain and sorrow, I sensed the anger in her – one that had been festering since I’d found her and Naz trapped in an alley – begin to grow once more.

“But Master…” I began to argue, only for Fay to cut me off.

“No Cameron. While I would normally be willing to allow you to comfort your friends, your actions today are another example of a worrying trend. You may have chosen to complete the verd’goten and marked yourself as Mando’ade, however, you have a greater commitment to the Jedi. Your duty, your focus, should be on the Force, not on the affairs of your friends.” Her tone was clipped, yet not to the extent of Dooku’s normal tone. That, when combined with the emotions that she had bubbling away internally – and given the way they built then receded, I suspected she was ‘releasing' those feelings into the Force – made it clear just how disappointed she was with me. While I doubted she would ever be one to lose their temper – and Force, did I not want to see that – this was as angry as she would, hopefully, ever get.

Yet, for all that disappointment and possible anger, to stop me from comforting my friends because of my actions today…

I had to bat down a spike of fury that welled up inside me. I didn’t need Plagueis sensing a tension between me and Fay, or at least one that was shared equally. Yet in this, I felt I was more than justified to be angry.

Fay wasn’t a Jedi who followed the narrow-minded stupidity of the High Council, but she was still blinded by their dogma that had dominated almost her entire life. She didn’t deny emotions, yet still preached about how my emotions were risking my commitment to the Force and the Order. Which, given what I knew and suspected about her past, felt hypocritical. She’d had a lover, a Mandalorian one, yet here she was denying me the chance to comfort a friend simply because I’d risked my life to save Bo and Naz earlier today? OK, Bo and I weren’t particularly close, but still…

The spike of anger returned, and again I swatted it away.

Not going to Bo now felt wrong on many levels. Not least because she was in pain and I was here, standing around awkwardly watching. Then there was how she would react later once she realised that I’d done nothing to comfort her. I was aware that the Mandalorians comported themselves differently, but the memory remnants of my old life still tugged at me to proactively offer my support.

“Is it truly against the Jedi way to offer comfort to those in pain?” Plagueis asked, once more inserting himself innocently into the brewing disagreement between me and Fay. “I understand your code forbids attachments, but I was taught that the Jedi offered compassion and mercy to those in need, like young Miss Kryze.”

“While I am pleased to see you know about our order and code, this is about more than that, Magister. Padawan Shan has displayed behaviour several times that, if not tempered, risks his safety; and that of everyone around him.” Fay replied in a tone that, for her, was the equivalent of snapping.

I turned back to her, surprised at the tone, and saw that Dooku was sharing my concern as his brow had risen and he was now looking at her carefully. That should’ve helped to stem the well of anger bubbling inside me, but it did the opposite.

“I see,” Plagueis said flatly to Fay’s dismissal, yet internally I suspected he was overjoyed to see a potential avenue to exploit in further gaining my trust.

Yet, for the moment, my focus was on Fay and her behaviour. All I wanted to do was offer support to a friend, yet Fay was denying me (and Bo) that because of what? A fear that my closeness to Bo and Naz would lead me to ‘fall to the Dark Side’?

Fucking bullshit.

I closed my eyes to try and calm myself, only for a fresh wave of sorrow to flow from Bo. Her sobs were now silent, but in the Force, her anguish was only growing stronger, as was a desire for revenge.

“While this is far from an auspicious moment to take my leave, Cameron, I feel I must do so,” Plagueis said, making me open my eyes and look up at the tall Munn. “However, I hope that before either of us leave the planet we might speak again. Apart from owing you my life, I’ve found our short time together to be most fascinating and you show far more insight than I’d expect any human child to have, even for a Jedi.”

“If my masters permit it, Magister, I’d be willing to do so,” I replied as diplomatically as I could. That was made harder as I managed my anger at Fay’s decision; and Dooku’s lack of comment one way or the other.

While I’d happily keep as much distance between myself and the Sith Lord as I could, doing that ran the chance he grew suspicious. Thus it was better to keep him at arm’s length and defer when and how we could meet to my masters. While I doubted anything would come of me knowing Hego Damask, I wasn’t willing to let the chance to create division between Plagueis and Sidious pass by without seeing if it was possible.

“Understandable,” Plagueis responded before turning his attention to Dooku. “Master Dooku, regardless of if there is time for myself and young Cameron to speak once more, I hope that you and I might renew our acquaintance before either of us leave the sector. It has been several years since we last spoke and I’m curious as to why you took another Padawan. I recall you stating a desire to avoid such a thing the last time we spoke.”

“That was my intent, however, Cameron’s arrival in the Order was unexpected, though not without its rewards,” Dooku said as I felt the slightest hint of pride from him as he spoke about me. “While young and lacking in the experience of his peers, Cameron has been an unexpectedly exceptional student, today’s actions notwithstanding.” He paused and I sensed surprise from him before he continued. “However, discussions such as that are better taken at a later time, perhaps over dinner tonight?”

“I suspect we’ll have to have dinner in the palace due to today’s events, but that would also allow me more time, with your permission, of course, to speak with young Cameron. Thus, I happily accept.” Plagueis turned from Dooku and bowed partially to Fay. “Master Fay, Cameron. Until we meet again, I wish you good fortune in your dealings.”

“And may the Force be with you, Magister,” Fay replied.

The Munn turned and walked away in the general direction of where Torrhen, Pre and the other Mandalorians were gathered. While I didn’t know what they were talking about for certain, I suspected Plagueis was going to offer to help them with some of the repairs. In his shoes, I’d then use that goodwill, and play on how close to ‘death’ he’d almost come, to improve the deal he’d negotiated with Mandalmotors further to his benefit.

I turned back to my masters, only to stop as a faint sob echoed off the tall walls of the throne room. That made me pause, then turn towards Bo. I’d barely taken a step when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

However, instead of it being Fay’s hand, I was shocked to feel Dooku’s presence, and even more shocked when he began speaking from behind my shoulder. “While we understand you wish to comfort her, even if that means simply being there as a familiar presence, you must be more mindful of your emotions,” he began, causing a spike in disbelief from Fay. I opened my mouth to respond, but he kept talking. “You’ve shown today, and in the past, that when pushed, you’re willing to risk everything – even your life – to help those you consider your friends. While that is an admirable trait, rushing into situations without considering everything is a good way to get yourself killed. Which is something neither Master Fay nor I wish to witness.”

“It is also a trait, that if it isn’t brought under control, carries with it the chance that your rash behaviour would make you more susceptible to the Dark Side, or could be exploited by those who attempt to harm or control you.” His grip tightened for a moment before he continued. “Now go. Offer your friend your support. However, understand that afterwards, we will be sitting down for a long and detailed discussion of your behaviour today, and over the last years. Regardless of how that discussion goes, I suspect Master Fay and I will feel an even greater time away from the rigours of the Republic that we originally planned would do your mind and connection to the Force good.”

I suppressed a sigh at realising my actions today would lengthen the time I’d have to spend away from the galaxy at large. While it wasn’t ideal to lose several months from my planning, I found myself understanding why it was needed better from Dooku’s small speech than the previous few minutes of Fay’s sharp – for her – responses.

“Yes, Master. And thank you.” I replied before sliding from his grip and making my way over to Bo.

… …

---

… …

As I and my masters were escorted beneath the palace in Sundari, I turned my mind back to the last three days.

After Plagueis had left and I’d gone over to Bo, I’d confirmed that it was indeed Dorgo and his family that made her collapse. He, his wife, and his young son were all missing and given they were meant to have been in the Peace Park when the attack had begun, presumed dead. While it was unlikely that they were still alive in the rubble, I’d promised to do all I could to help, and after getting permission from my masters, I’d joined the search efforts.

Thanks to the way the Force interacted with my minimap I was able to find a dozen survivors in the rubble of the park and help free them by the end of the first day, but none were Dorgo or his family. I’d gone back the next, and even though I couldn’t detect any other living beings in the rubble, had stayed to uncover more and more bodies. Late on that second day, Bo and Naz had arrived to help, though it was clear to me that Bo was in no condition to handle discovering her brother and his family’s bodies.

By the morning of the third day, the rubble around the park had been cleared, but there was still no sign of Dorgo or his family. That gave Bo a thread of hope, and we began to search the city on a path from the park back to the palace. We pulled two more survivors from the rubble before disaster struck and we uncovered Sellena. Her body was mangled badly, making any visual confirmation of the body impossible, but a quick DNA scan confirmed it was her. That broke Bo once more, and it took Naz and some of her other friends nearly thirty minutes to calm her enough that Naz could take Bo back to the palace.

However, just before they left, I managed to uncover a survivor. Dorgo was alive, barely. He was missing an arm, while both his legs were shattered, but the far greater blow was seeing the body of Korkie. Dorgo had tried to shield his son with his body, yet it hadn’t been enough, and a falling piece of debris had crushed the child’s skull.

Bo had left with her brother – Naz and her other friends accompanying her – however, I’d stayed and begun a frantic search for any other survivors I could sense. At some point later in the day, Fay and Dooku – who’d been working in the medical centre, and helping to coordinate relief efforts respectfully – had come to find me, having sensed my distress and, after about twenty minutes of gentle coercion, had managed to drag me back to my assigned quarters.

I’d tried to sleep last night, to help me centre my thoughts, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw Korkie’s shattered body and those of others killed in the attack. I was used to seeing such carnage, but something about seeing a child die because of such an event always hit me hard.

This morning, Fay had come to speak with me about the events of the last few days. While things between us were still tense- even after long conversations about my actions and her concerns on the first two nights – I felt better having her there than not. She understood what I was going through and provided a shoulder for me to lean on while I vented my emotions.

At some point, as the memories of the last few days mixed with the dozens from my old life, she’d pulled me into a hug and when I’d pulled back, I saw I’d dampened her robes with my tears. I understood why I’d cried, yet I hadn’t done so at any point in my old life. Instead, I’d always redirected my emotions – the sorrow and anger – towards finding and killing those responsible for such atrocities. Perhaps it was because my new body was maturing that I was emotionally unbalanced by this, or perhaps because I was semi-close to a relative of the deceased. Fay had mentioned something about the Force innately amplifying strong emotions, but nothing that I’d felt had seemed unnatural, so I was unsure how great of an effect it had. Regardless, I was glad that Fay had come to comfort me.

After the hug, she’d mentioned once more the dangers emotions can cause to those with a strong connection to the Force especially for those, such as myself, who found it easy to form connections with those around them. This had come up on both evenings before today, but clearly, she felt that, with me finally breaking down from the carnage I’d seen, it might sink in better at that moment. And I had to think she’d been right in that regard.

She’d once more stated that she had wanted to keep me from consoling Bo not because Jedi didn’t do that, but because of my growing closeness with her and others on the planet. That concern was one shared by Dooku, as both understood that I was doubly at risk of my emotions compromising me due to how easily I made friends and that fact I could make a bond through the Force even with those with little connection to it.

Having just broken down because of said emotions, the short recap of our long talks sunk in better and I thanked her for her support and said that I thought I understood what she was meaning, though I did say that I wouldn’t stop risking my life to save others. That made her smile and comment that she was fine with that, as a Jedi should always put others before themselves.

As we stood, she also commented that while she did not agree with the direction the High Council had taken the Order over the last half millennia – which was one reason why she’d not stepped foot inside the Temple until I’d arrived in this time – she still believed in the principles of the Jedi, the tenets and the Code that guided us. Otherwise, she’d added, we risked becoming no better than the Sith of old and carving out personal fiefdoms in the galaxy to rule over.

For a brief moment, I considered telling her that I had ‘suspicions’ about who the Sith were. Plagueis had left for Tusza shipyards two nights ago, so it would be a safe moment to do so. From there, she and Dooku could contact the Council and have them investigate the pair.

Yet, the more I considered that the more I knew it wouldn’t work. While it’d help close the loophole that allowed Sidious to monitor daily events at the Temple, I felt certain the Sith had more than one way to monitor the Jedi. Plus, without proof – a midi-chlorian test perhaps? – all I would be doing would be making wild accusations. And even if the High Council, for some reason, decided to believe me, they’d have to assemble large strike forces to take down both Sith simultaneously, otherwise, the plan would fail. Plus, odds were that the High Council wouldn’t send strong enough task forces after each Sith Lord.

Though even as I considered this, I also wondered if I could even hint at who the Sith were without proof. The Powers That Be had told me upon my rebirth, that if I tried to reveal future events what came out of my mouth would sound like nonsense to others. While knowledge of who the Sith wasn’t future knowledge, I suspected that the same would apply. Moments later, my suspicion was confirmed, as the moment I tried to spit out that Palpatine was a Sith, what came out instead was a bland compliment for Fay instead.

The warrior we were following stopped outside a room that was around five levels below the palace ground floor. “The dukes are inside,” the warrior of House Ordo stated as he took up a position with the five other warriors (three from House Kryze, three from House Ordo) outside.

The doors slid open and as I followed my masters inside, I saw both dukes, Pre Vizsla, and a handful of others, including Osto Ordo and Kann Dur. About another dozen or so were here via holocall, though I only knew three (Aundars Wren, Baston Tyri and Rgnar Lerok) personally. The rest of them I could identify by name, even if I hadn’t interacted with them much, since they’d all been at my verd’goten celebration and were clan chiefs, which was true of the six of the holograms I recognized.

All in all, this was a large gathering of clan leaders from clans loyal to both House Kryze and House Ordo.

“Ah, Alor Cameron, Master Jedi, good, good,” Adonai began as he broke from speaking to Rgnar as he spotted us enter. At his side, and that of Duke Torrhen’s hung sheaths for their beskads. “Before this council is called to order, on behalf of my family, clan and those allied to my house, I’d like to extend my thanks for your work over the last few days. Your skills in healing, coordinating, and aiding in the search-and-rescue efforts for the survivors were a great help. Without you,” he paused for a moment and his face fell. “Without you, the events of the last week would have been far worse.”

“There is no need to thank us, Duke Adonai,” Fay replied with her usual gentle tone. “A Jedi is meant to help those who are in need.”

“How is your son?” Dooku asked, moving the conversation on.

Adonai's face fell completely, and he sighed deeply. “My medics assure me he’ll survive, though they’ll have to replace his right arm.”

Although Dorgo’s legs had been saved thanks to the advanced medical technology available, certain wounds can’t be healed or regrown. I remembered how both Luke and Anakin were fitted with prosthetics after losing the limb to a lightsaber. Whatever took Dorgo’s arm had cauterized the wound, making reattachment impossible. That would mean the young man would have a cybernetic limb alongside his father, but given to the higher quality one Adonai was now sporting for his left leg, that shouldn’t be a hindrance. Kriff, I suspected Mandalorians placed weapons and other goodies inside such limbs.

“As for his mental state…” his voice trailed off understandably.

From what I’d learnt, the medics had kept Dorgo sedated ever since he’d woken up and learnt the fate of his wife and son. To say he was heartbroken would be an understatement of galactic proportions.

“And Bo?” I asked tentatively. Since the discovery of the fate of her brother and his family, I hadn’t seen the redhead at all. Not even at meals in the public canteen that had been set up in the largest conference room in the palace.

Adonai sighed once more, and Torrhen placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Bo has fully recovered physically. Unfortunately, emotional wounds are not so easily mended.” Adonai began slowly as the rest of the room stayed silent. “While she wasn’t close to Sellena due to her ties with the New Mandalorians, and had distanced herself slightly from Dorgo when they’d married, Bo loved young Korkie. Losing him… it’s brought up memories of when we lost her mother and young Urin.” Adonai stopped and closed his eyes briefly before blinking harshly. If anyone besides me noticed, no one gave voice to their thoughts.

“I…” Adonai stopped and straightened himself. “We will speak about my daughter afterwards, Alor Cameron.” He stated before turning back to the large table and the holographic display of the sector that dominated it. “This meeting is to determine our response to the attacks led by Duke Anzur and Death Watch.”

“Has the identity of the Death Watch leader been determined?” one of the holograms asked.

“Ebrn Awaud,” Torrhen replied, which set off a round of whispers.

While I didn’t know the man personally, well besides killing him, the clan’s name was one I knew. Clan Awaud, while not as powerful as the three houses led by Dukes Adonai, Torrhen, and Anzur, were still a significant clan. Nam Awaud, the current head of the clan and someone on-par with Count Aundars for the size of the clan he controlled, was regarded as a recluse. He didn’t support any of the dukes or Death Watch and he despised the New Mandalorians with a passion.

Though given his son had led the Death Watch faction that attacked Keldabe – something I was more and more certain Pre hadn’t been involved in – it was highly probable Count Nam would ally with Duke Anzur to gain revenge for the death of his son.

“Before we go any further, I would like to remind you that as Jedi, we cannot become involved in an internal Mandalorian matter,” Fay said, making the room temperature seem to drop a dozen degrees at her words. “Not without a petition to the Senate and their approval.”

“Te Tsad Droten liser murcyur ner shebs!” one of the holograms spat out, with other voices muttering their agreement.

“You would do nothing even when one of your own was killed in the attacks?” Count Aundars asked, his brow creased and his lips tight.

“While the death of Knight Lhan is to be mourned, and the Jedi Council is aware of his death, they have been instructed specifically to not become involved,” Dooku answered.

That, as one would expect, set off a round of comments about the usefulness, or lack thereof, of the Jedi and I forced down an urge to roll my eyes. Of course, the High Council would order us not to get involved. Force help us if the Jedi actually did the job they claimed to do, and act as peacekeepers of the Republic; not lapdogs of a corrupt senate.

“We understand your feelings and we asked the High Council if they could arrange relief efforts to assist in the rebuilding,” Fay continued. “However, such organisations are the purview of the Senate, so while the Council will speak to them, without a request from yourself Duke Adonai, I doubt any aid will be provided.” There were a few murmurs in the room, though I felt those were more about anyone thinking the Mandalorians needed help rather than the Jedi and Republic potentially offering such help. “They are also unwilling to send a team of Jedi healers to a sector on the verge of civil war; particularly, and to be clear this is their opinion not my own, for a people renowned for killing Jedi.”

Torrhen cleared his throat, drawing our attention to him. “First, and let me be clear about this, while many of us here aren’t as comfortable about Jedi being on Mandalore as Duke Adonai, all of us are grateful for the help you provided over the last few days finding and healing survivors of the attack.” There were a few grumbles of agreement, but not many. “Most of us accepted this help as it came through Clan Shan and not the Jedi Order or Republic. Mandalore would not accept aid from your Order even if it was offered.” He paused and gave me a nod. “But if such help had involved a large continent of your people coming to our world, even under the banner of peace and support, none of us would accept it. While the Dral’Han was before our time, the wounds it left still run deep among our people.”

I turned to see Fay lower her head in understanding, and once more I wondered just how connected she had been to these people – or at least the one she’d fallen in love with – that there was mutual respect between her and those who knew about her connection.

“Good! The Jetii shouldn’t stick their noses in our business!” A hologram called out, drawing everyone’s attention. “But the question remains, Duke Adonai, as to how you are going to respond to this Jurkad? Will you once more hide behind the skirts of the Republic lapdogs whose city you now command from?”

Adonai bristled at the question and stepped towards the hologram. “Was that a challenge, Alor Ream? If so, then maybe I was wrong to grant you mercy the last time. I assure you I won’t make that mistake again,” He all but spat out. That made it clear that there was bad blood between the two, which wouldn’t be a huge surprise as I knew many of the allied clans of House Kryze were unhappy – at a minimum – to have been working with the New Mandalorian faction.

Ream growled back and looked to be planning a retort only for Torrhen to place a hand on Adonai’s shoulder.

“We’re getting distracted. Challenges to house leadership can be contested after a response is decided upon,” he said slowly, making sure to look at everyone present – figuratively and literally – in the room bar me and my masters. “Once House Varaud and Death Watch have been given a suitable response, and are kneeling, broken and bleeding at our feet, then we can consider the leadership of our houses and the future direction of our people.”

That earned him nods of acceptance from many, though some weren’t as enthusiastic as others.

“What is the leadership situation in Sundari?” Count Aundars asked as his hologram flickered for a moment.

“The New Mandalorians are decimated,” Adonai replied slowly, his eyes taking a long time to leave Ream. “The Prime Minister, deputy and most of their upper leadership was either killed or put out of action by the attack. Several government buildings were targeted by Duke Anzur’s forces, limiting the ability of the city’s administrators to coordinate search and rescue operations. And while not entirely destroyed, the city’s supplies of food and water were heavily damaged.” He paused and looked towards Pre. "As of now, I have appointed Pre Vizsla as acting Prime Minister and placed Sundari under the direct control of House Kryze."

That set off another round of murmurs and I felt a thread of displeasure from my masters. By taking control of the city and appointing one of his direct subordinates as Prime Minister, Adonai wasn’t just ending his alliance with the New Mandalorians but all but pulling off a coup. When that was combined with the apparent restoration of the alliance with House Ordo, and that this meeting was to plan a counter-strike against Clan Varaud and Death Watch, it was clear that the sector was on the verge of another civil war. Though, if I was right, this time Adonai was still alive to lead House Kryze.

While I was worried that a long war would weaken the Mandalorians – and thus, looking at it from a purely tactical perspective, damage their potential usefulness to me in the near future – I couldn’t deny I was glad to see the New Mandalorian faction weakened. If not outright dismantled. Adonai was alive, as was Dorgo – in a fashion – so the chances of Satine rising to prominence and turning her people and the sector into a backwater of no importance were greatly diminished.

“So we’re done pretending to be good little servants of the Republic? About haar time!” Ream spat out, which earned a cheer from a few others.

“We will not be actively seeking to leave the Republic,” Adonai countered quickly, “though the ideals put forward by the New Mandalorians will no longer be the guiding principle of our people. A return to the oldest of ways cannot, and will not happen, however, the tenets of our people will no longer be pushed to the side or considered relics of a bygone era.”

“I do not wish to see any more of our people die senseless deaths, but I can no longer allow elements within our people that, in their insane desire to return our people to a time that ended with the Ani'la Akaan would have parents to have to bury their children! The time of endless raiding is long dead, but the heart of Mandalore still beats in me, and I promise you, my fellow clan chiefs, that so long as I draw breath, those deluded fools will not claim another innocent life! The time has come for House Varaud to be broken, and the last, corrupted remnants of Death Watch burned to ash!”

A roar echoed around the room as Adonai finished his speech and thrust his fist into the air. Everyone cheered along with him and I realised that this was the moment when the fate of these people, and the sector, had changed. It might bring more death, but in the long run, I knew in my heart that this was the right path for them to take.

“You claim to honour our ways,” a voice called out as a large man with an artificial eye stepped towards Adonai, “yet you allow Jetii into our war council!” The mountain of a man spat. He had to be over two metres easily and almost as wide. A finger thrust towards Dooku. “You stand with the Butcher of Galidraan behind you, you speak of the Ani'la Akaan, yet you show submission to an of Naast be Me'suum’s who hasn’t proved himself in battle! And you have the gall to claim you wish us to follow you into war?” He spat at Adonai’s feet. “You are aruetii and think us all utreekovyc as we fall for your...”

The rest of the mountain of a man’s speech was cut off as, in a move that belied the injury he had and the years of peaceful ruling he’d done, Adonai stepped forward, slipped his new mechanical prosthesis behind the man's leg, grabbed the larger man by the throat and threw him down onto the table with the holographic display of the sector. Even as most in the room reached for a weapon – and I activated my combat package of force abilities – Adonai had slid his beskad out and rested it against the larger man’s throat, just above where he was holding him down.

“Do you think me weak because I chose the path of peace in an attempt to protect my family, Grag?” Adonai seethed as his beskad began to draw blood. “I am not now, nor have I ever been. Something you seem to have forgotten!” Adonai’s voice wasn’t loud, but in the stunned silence of the room, it carried easily to every corner. He paused and looked around the room even as he held Grag down. “I chose the path of peace after losing my wife and youngest child. An action that, given today’s events, I deeply regret. However, this time I will not rest until Anzur’s head is mounted on my wall!”

Adonai pulled his beskad back while pushing the now named Grag further onto the table. “If you wish to challenge me for leadership of this house, then I will gladly accept after this war council has concluded. If not, then know your place and be mindful of your words lest I remove your tongue.”

“Yes, my duke,” Grag replied slowly, his eyes locked on Adonai’s.

While Grag’s words weren’t the clearest, they seemed to be enough for Adonai, because after looking into the downed man’s eyes, he stepped away from the table and sheathed his blade.

He turned and looked at those assembled. “Make no mistake, after the unprovoked attacks on Sundari and Keldabe, we are at war!” He called out, setting off another round of cheers. In a different time and place, I’d likely be expecting to join them, but it had been made clear to both dukes and I that within a few days I would be leaving the sector with my masters.

Which was why us being present at this war council was surprising. And of course, that was when Adonai turned to face us.

“Since the Jedi and Republic aren’t going to interfere in any way, even to offer aid, then I must ask you both to leave, Master Jedi.” He said diplomatically. “However, as a clan chief allied to both House Kryze and House Ordo, Alor Cameron is expected to stay.” I sensed some worry and irritation from my masters.

“Due to his divided loyalties, many still will question his dedication to our ideals,” Torrhen added in support. “Alor Cameron being present will settle most of those concerns, as will his age and an understanding that he has a code with the Jedi he must obey. The less we allow Duke Anzur, Death Watch and any others who come to oppose us to use the standing of Clan Shan against us, the shorter the war will be.”

There was silence in the room, and when I looked back at my masters, I saw both were standing still; baring the odd twitch on their faces. That, when combined with the way the Force was moving around and through them, made me sure they were discussing the matter telepathically.

Soon, I felt the familiar tendrils of the presence in the Force reaching out for my mind and letting them in.

[We will allow you to remain. However, we feel we need to be clear that you aren’t to offer any tactical advice unless it is a way to minimise the danger to civilians and innocents caught in the crossfire.] Fay said directly into my mind.

[I doubt there is much I could offer regardless of your warning, master. But I understand.] I replied, trying to keep my shock at them allowing this from flooding our mental communication. For them to leave me here was a surprise to be sure, but it seemed the words from both dukes had resonated with my masters. Of course, there was the fact – that I’d highlighted – that there was likely little I could offer in any sense that would help Still. My training was in small unit warfare and wet-work, and while that would be needed in war, this meeting seemed geared towards the more macro elements of war planning. Still, it should be a good chance to learn how such things were conducted; something I knew for a fact would be important in the decades ahead.

[Also, if you feel there is a way that we could help that wouldn’t require the High Council being made aware nor drag us into the conflict, speak with us first.] Dooku added, resulting in a mild sense of irrigation from Fay.

[Yes, master.]

Both of them nodded to me physically, then as one, turned to face the two dukes.

“We will allow Cameron to stay. However, we must stress that he cannot be involved in any way, with any military planning.” Dooku stated to the room. There were a few murmurs and a general sense of annoyance, but both dukes nodded as my master continued. “We accept that his status as Mando’ade and ally to your houses means he should be here, yet his higher purpose is to our Order and the Force.”

The two dukes shared a look before Torrhen nodded in acceptance. “We understand your reasoning and thank you for understanding ours.”

“And we willingly accept your terms,” Adonai added.

With that, my masters turned to me, and after some mutual bowing, left the room. As they did, I slipped off to one side, moving to stand next to Osto Ordo. From there I’d be able to watch and learn as these seasoned warriors planned the opening moves of the civil war. Plus, it would allow me to use Observe and analyse what it revealed.

There were a few in the room – Grag and Raum being the obvious two – that could potentially be issues for the dukes, and maybe myself, in the future.

… …

---

… …

The war council ended up lasting for over five hours and as I’d expected, even if I had wanted to, there was nothing I could add. Still, it had been a good learning experience and Warfare [Space] had gained a few levels; though it was still way short of Professional 1 when I expected it – much like Warfare [Ground] – to break into other skills.

I’d also been considering what to do with the weapons and armour of the Death Watch soldiers that I’d killed. As the victor in martial combat, I was entitled to the immediate spoils of war, which, while appreciated, did create slight logistical issues. After discovering that returning all the armour to their families would be seen as weak or an insult to those clans, I’d sent only the helmets back. The rest of the suits and weapons were largely cannibalized. The beskar was separated, melted down, and entrusted to Duke Torrhen for safekeeping until needed, although one suit’s worth of Beskar was set aside for Naz once she’d finished growing. The crushgaunts and beskad I’d gifted to Bo. A few pieces of high-end weaponry were given to Gar as a gift, and the rest was sold. Although I did make sure that half of the profits were used to help with the rebuilding of the two cities and supporting those who’d lost family in the attacks, the rest went into my personal funds. All told, I added 425,000 credits to my account which I’d asked Duke Adonai to place in an account for Clan Shan.

While I could’ve dropped the credits in my Inventory, that left the risk that Adonai might bring up the credits with my masters. This way I had another place to store credits outside the purview of the Council or my masters.

Yet, once the meeting was called to an end, and the holos of those chiefs unable to physically attend had flickered out, Adonai had pulled me aside. He’d explained there was a personal and private matter he wished to discuss. I’d followed him through the palace – with two warriors of his house as an escort – to what had to be his private office.

The room was dominated by a large table that held a holoprojector while the walls were lined with bookshelves that held various datapads and other devices, along with the skull of a long-dead predator. The inscription under it revealed that it was the skull of a razor-tailed tiger that the founder of Clan Kryze had killed.

As he slid around the table, casually pulling a datapad to himself, the two guards stayed at the door. Adonai slid into a comfortable, high-backed chair with practised ease and indicated for me to take one of the two guest chairs. As I did so, he spoke

“Alor Cameron,” he began, making it clear this was a Mandalorian matter, “before we get to why I wished to speak to you privately, I just need to be sure that what was discussed and arranged today will not reach the ears of the Jedi Council or the Senate.”

“Nothing that has been discussed here will be repeated, Duke Adonai,” I replied, easily understanding his concern. Some of the tactics considered today were… extreme to me, but from the brief teachings I’d had on previous galactic conflicts, they were quite tame. Yet several came close to skirting what was considered acceptable in the Republic in this day and age. “However, I should warn you that if several of the options considered today are enacted, the Senate may choose to investigate or censure you and your allies. They might also consider asking the Jedi to intervene if the more extreme options are selected.” I didn’t try to hide my concern with those options. Glassing a planet simply to make a point was far beyond what I’d be prepared to do at the moment, and I hoped I’d never have to enact a Base-Delta-Zero. “If you are… all I can suggest is doing so before a replacement for Khan Lhan can be assigned to the sector.”

“Yes, that would be for the best,” Adonai muttered before tapping at the datapad he’d picked up. He looked around the desk, though not in a way that hinted he was looking for something specific, which made me suspect he was doing so to prepare for why he’d asked me here. That behaviour had me developing a bad feeling about what we were about to discuss.

“Duke Torrhen informed me that you discovered some family heirlooms on his homeworld. Something about an ancient vault…” he trailed off, leaving the question unasked but still in the air.

“I did, and while I won’t go into detail of what I recovered, not without Duke Torrhen present and giving his blessing, what I found was… unexpected and deeply personal,” I replied, thinking of HK and the holocron and braid left by my mother. The rest of the vault’s content was something Torrhen and I had decided to keep hidden and, while they didn’t know everything that was inside, my masters had acquiesced to our request.

While most of the vault’s contents weren’t massive – bar what Revan had left for me and the pallet of beskar – the contents of Canderous’ datapad had the potential to alter the balance of power in the galaxy. Yes, what was detailed there was millennia out of date, but the potential was there.

Both Torrhen and I had realised that the Mandalorians, never mind the Republic or galaxy at large, weren’t ready for those files to be revealed, which was why we’d all taken a vow of silence regarding the vault’s contents. It was better if everything inside was left a mystery than just the more… dangerous elements. Hopefully, that would hide what we needed to hide better than revealing parts of the vault to others.

And while HK’s head was known to many now, I still claimed he was nothing more than Revan’s protocol and service droid. So far, that lie was holding, mainly because detailed records of Revan and Bastila’s companions during their time were not something commonly available on the Holonet. Thank the Force.

“Yes, yes. Understandable, and much the same as what Duke Torrhen said to me. Yet I must ask about the droid you recovered,” he leaned forward, a glint in his eyes. “I remember stories of a similar coloured droid that served Revan and fought beside Te Taylir Mand’alor. The tone and mannerisms of the droid you’ve recovered… They are similar to what little remains about Revan’s droid. Is it…?”

I chuckled at his curiosity. While what he’d said helped confirm that exact details about HK weren’t readily available, it did show that people could work out the truth if they had enough facts. “He’s a copy of that droid, with identical programming and memory files, at least up until Revan disappeared,” I answered, deciding to sate the duke’s curiosity. “However, that isn’t something that anyone outside this room is aware of. Not even my Jedi masters.”

Adonai leaned back in his chair and nodded. “Of course. No one will learn the truth from me, you have my words.” A smile spread on his face as he looked up at the ceiling. “Still, even if that droid only has some of the original’s memory files, and might have corrupted data, the things we could learn from it…” He chuckled. “It boggles the mind.”

Suddenly the smile fell from his face and his shoulders slumped, making him look several decades older in an instant. “However, that is for another time.” Weariness came over him as I sensed growing waves of trepidation and concern radiating from him.

“I need to ask a favour. Chief to chief,” he began slowly. I nodded to indicate I understood the seriousness of what he was implying but stayed quiet. The Force was beginning to swirl around us, and I became convinced that what we were about to discuss would alter things massively for the future.

He opened his mouth to continue, only to sigh then look over at one wall. I followed his gaze and saw a large, framed image – hand-painted by the look of it – of his family. There, he stood with his wife without any hints of grey in hair, though that might just be because of the artist’s choice, one arm around his wife’s shoulders while she held a young child in her arms. Three children stood in front of them, and it was easy to see the resemblance between Satine, Bo and their mother in the painting. Adonai’s other hand was resting on Bo’s shoulder, and for a moment I wondered if that was the only way they’d been able to keep the girl there while the artist sketched the basic image.

“Six, long and difficult years ago, I lost my beloved and youngest child to war.” Adonai began as we both continued looking at the painting. “After that, I retreated. I chose a path of peace, even one I didn’t believe in, in the hopes it would keep my remaining children safe.” He sighed deeply and ran his hands down his beard from his ears to his chin. “Yet, one is now in a bacta tank having lost their family, one is on Coruscant having chosen to deny our culture and my youngest clamours for war without having ever taken a life.” His eyes met mine, flickers of past wounds stirring in their depths. “I owe you more than you can ever know for helping save Dorgo and Bo. And your masters for getting Satine protection before the attack…”

He sighed and looked back at the painting as my mind turned to the middle child. I hadn’t given much thought to Satine since she’d left for Coruscant over a year ago; well, save when I was thinking about how much she took the Mandalorians away from what they’d once been. I held no love for her political goals, even if they might have softened from her short time around Fay, but hearing she’d been attacked as well had come as a surprise, as I had mistakenly assumed that the conflict would be limited to this sector.

“I owe Master Dooku a debt for his arranging of protection for Satine,” Adonai resumed quietly, his eyes locked on the painting. “Without that, I would have lost her, yet, may my beloved forgive me, perhaps it would’ve been better if she had been injured.”

“Do not misunderstand. I love her dearly, as I do all my children. However, Satine…” he sighed once more then pinched the bridge of his nose. “She is committed to the New Mandalorian way; to turn our people into sheep. She has refused to carry any weapon, to complete her verd’goten, to embrace any part of our history and culture.” He shook his head. “I have failed her, and my beloved. Yet, perhaps, just perhaps, these attacks, and the words she shares with Master Fay, will have her return to our ways.”

He sighed again before turning from the painting to look at me. “However, with a war to fight, and the condition of my eldest, I find myself in an unfortunate position. Dorgo will be out for blood in this war, and I am not as young as I once was. Therefore, there is a chance that we may both fall in battle, which would see Satine assume leadership of my clan and house.” He took a breath, likely to gather his thoughts. “Given her current leanings, that would mean the destruction of House Kryze and, in all likelihood, a worsening of the situation with our people. As such, I have informed my clan’s elders that I am placing Bo-Katan ahead of Satine in the line of succession for clan leadership.”

I felt my brow rise at that. While removing Satine, or at least lowering her chances of becoming clan chief was something I could support, placing Bo above her presented its own issues. While far more inclined towards the traditions of the Mando’ade, Bo… well, to be frank, she wasn’t much of a leader. Oh, I had no doubts about her ability to lead soldiers into battle, but to lead an entire clan or people in a cultural or political sense… That, in my opinion, was beyond both her current skill level, as well as her temperament. She was a warrior, not a leader.

“With respect, Bo isn’t…”

Adonai barked out a laugh. “I know. However, you are.” He leaned forward, and a smile that I’d describe as predatory crept onto his face. “Bo is a warrior, and if I do say so, a damn good one. But a leader?” He shook his head. “No. She still has a lot to learn. As do you, though I can already see the signs of a warrior born to lead within you.”

He leaned back even as he continued to speak. “Bo’s biggest flaw is a habit of focusing on one thing at the expense of others. If Dorgo and I fall in this war, I fear that flaw will develop into a bloodlust and result in her death. That, I cannot allow to happen.” He glanced at the skull of the razer-tailed tiger. “I need her out of the sector.”

Now both of my eyebrows were raised in surprise. Of all the angles I’d imagined, hearing Adonai not just wanting to send his daughter away from war – something that she’d take a long time to forgive him for – but implying that he wanted my help in arranging it was not among them.

“I’d find myself once more in debt to you, Alor Cameron, if you and your masters could escort her from the sector and keep her away until I’m ready for her to return.” He finished as I felt the Force swirling around me, urging me to consider the ramifications of my decision.

If I did this, I risked losing any chance of being friends with Bo if the worst happened – and failing her quest – but not doing so might mean a far worse outcome for the Mandalorian sector and people than even Satine being in charge.

And there was the fair chance that I’d spend the next several months worrying about one of my travelling companions trying to stab me in the back; just as she’d see me agreeing to this as doing to her.

“Bo is a good warrior,” I started, drawing out my words as I tried to figure out what exactly to do. The ripples I felt from the Force made it clear that this was a moment when something important would happen, but it was giving me no hints as to what the kriff I was meant to do. “And I’d be willing for her to travel with me and my masters, but…”

“As my father loved to say, anything before a but was shab,” Adonai commented, drawing a chuckle from me as I’d heard that expression in both lives.

“But,” I continued as the humour instantly died; “If I ask her to come, or you order her to go, she’ll never agree. And then there’s the fact I’d need to clear this with my masters.” I paused as the image of an infuriated red-haired warrior causing havoc in the Jedi Temple appeared in my mind’s eye. “Though the idea of seeing the chaos she’d unleash in the Jedi Temple would be amusing.”

“Aye, it would. And it’d be something enjoyable for her, as it was something her idol once did,” Adonai agreed after barking out a laugh, making me wonder who Bo’s idol was, as well as when and how they’d attacked the temple. “Also, I’ve already spoken with Master Fay about this. She is agreeable provided that you are, as she feels this is your decision to make. Master Fay understands my reasoning, or what I told of it, to protect my daughters which is why Master Dooku has assured me the Jedi he asked to protect Satine will stay with her until such time as it’s safe for both to return to the sector.”

“If they don’t think you have other reasons for this, then you’re underselling them,” I commented as I’d already seen another advantage of this for Adonai. Provided that by the time Bo returned, she’d calmed down enough to stop trying to kill me, we’d have likely developed a friendship and there was a chance that some of what it was Adonai saw in me would rub off on his daughter.

I immediately had to tamp down my adolescent mind from considering the double entendre I just created. Damn teenage hormones.

“Aye, but sometimes it’s better for all if some things are left unsaid,” Adonai countered. “Yet, as the – for now – recognized leader of the sector, I can use the Republic and Jedi’s rules to my advantage.” He explained with a light chuckle. “But yes, it is a cover. What I really want, and I think you’ve already worked this out, is to learn from you – and your masters – how to lead. Yes, you’ve never really been forced to lead, but there’s a spark in you that, one warrior to another, I recognize.” He shrugged. “Perhaps while you travel with my daughter that spark is never ignited, but much like your ancestor, I don’t think the path of a Jedi is the only path you’ll walk.”

“I hope you’re not suggesting that I’ll turn to the Dark Side or try to conquer the Republic,” I commented with a smirk to let him know I was teasing. And while I would do my best to not turn to the Sith, the fact was I was slowly becoming certain that the Republic needed massive reforms. Reforms that might only be possible if it fell, or almost fell.

“Manda, no!” Adonai shot back with a small smile. “The last time one of your line did that, my people were broken in the Ani’la Akaan.” While the smile stayed, it did slip a fraction at the mention of Malachor V. “I can’t see into the future, thank Manda. However, I’ve seen enough to be sure there’s the makings of a good, if not great, leader in you. What I want is for Bo to see that and learn from it. I need her to be able to lead if the worst happens.”

I leaned back in my chair as I considered his request. I put to one side the issues of how to get Bo to leave the sector – as that was her father’s problem to handle – and how she’d feel about travelling with three Jedi. I also put to one side the issue of Bo’s quest, Flight of the Owl, as while I wanted to keep increasing my level and gaining perks and player powers, this felt more important than a simple quest.

Now, I wasn’t sure if Adonai truly believed I had the makings of a good leader, or if he was just flattering me to help me accept his request. Regardless, the fact he was willing to trust me to, if not protect, then travel with his youngest daughter spoke volumes about his respect for me and my masters. Plus, having a Mandalorian along would likely be useful as, while my masters were powerful with the Force, there were times when their withdrawn nature – particularly Fay’s – made me want to rip my hair out. Though, having her around meant she’d quickly ask about HK, which could lead to questions about Revan and Canderous that I might not want others knowing the answers to just yet.

“I agree in principle,” I replied after weighing the issue. “In practice, however, while convincing her to go is your problem since she’s your daughter - and I’d rather not get shot at more than I can help - my issue is how I’m expected to keep her with me. I’m not going to drag her around like a prisoner for months, if not a year, just to make you feel better. Plus, it’s not exactly like I have a starship of my own to keep her on. Jedi aren’t permitted personal possessions, especially not Padawans.”

Adonai leaned forward and interlaced his fingers under his chin. “I have a plan to make Bo comply, so to put you at ease, I won’t need your help for that.” That was a relief. “The same is true for how to make her stay with you. As for your transportation,” he paused, tapped at a small console on his side of the table that I couldn’t see and the image of a familiar Mandalorian ship appeared in hologram form between us. “This is a prototype of a new ship design that we’re hoping to expand into mass production in a few years. It’s been designated as a Kom’rk-class attack transport by MandalMotors. This model was intended to be my transport, and as such is slightly larger than the base design. As such, it’s also been modified to have more creature comforts than would normally be afforded to a troop transport. I’ve already had it refitted for long-term occupation by a squad-sized group.”

“While that’s certainly tempting, the issue is still with ownership. Placing it in my name, or even my masters would be problematic.” I commented.

“The vessel, which you would be free to name, would stay in my name. However, as a way to partially pay the debt that I owe you, it would be on a permanent loan to Clan Shan.” Adonai explained as his smile grew slightly. “Officially, it would still belong to Clan Kryze, which would remove any issues the Jedi would have with you travelling in it. Unofficially, the ship would be yours to do with as you want, which I would be willing to make official at a later date when you could take ownership of the transport.”

Now that was a hell of a sweetener.

As Adonai had said, the ship wouldn’t legally be mine, but for all intents and purposes, it would be. That would make travelling around a lot easier – no more having to hitch rides on commercial transports and being forced to only go where those ships went. It’d also allow me to work on my piloting and mechanics skills while the ship was in flight as, to put it bluntly, Fay and Dooku lacked any interest in such things. Now, Fay would likely have issues, but I felt I could spin it enough that she’d be willing to conditionally accept the vessel.

“OK, I’m almost convinced, though there’s still the fact that I’d have to deal with a furious red-haired warrior who’d likely try to kill me several times on the first day,” I commented, making Adonai chuckle.

“Reminds me of my first date,” he replied, which made me grimace at the suggestion. Of course, that only made him chuckle more. “Still, I’m sure a Jedi warrior as skilled as yourself, can find ways to redirect Bo’s anger. Who knows, you might even find you enjoy that about her.”

My eyes narrowed at the second less-than-subtle hint that he might be happy if something happened between me and Bo. While I wouldn’t deny that Bo pressed a few of my buttons – not least being a redhead – I wasn’t interested in starting anything with anyone. Plus, barring the time she’s kissed me as part of a drinking dare game, she’d never shown one iota of interest in me. Which I was reasonably certain was because I was lacking the equipment she liked in a partner.

“Very well, I agree,” I said as I leaned forward and extended my arm. “However, if she tries to blow up the ship more than twice or kill me more than a hundred times before a month has passed, I’m nulling the agreement and bringing her back to you.”

Adonai’s booming laughter filled the small room as his large, meaty paw engulfed my hand. “I don’t think Bo is that persistent, but if she does, I’ll simply consider myself in your debt thrice over.” As we broke the handshake, he added, “Though to be safe, I’ll both speak to Bo and leave her a recording reminding her of some ground rules for while she's travelling with you and your masters.”

For a moment I wondered just how difficult – and painful – that talk would be, and how pissed Bo would be with him for months, but I let the thought go. That was his problem to deal with, not mine.

… …

---

… …

I sighed and ducked as my Force sense pinged for the third time that hour. I felt a rush of air above me and a hiss as the armoured fist missed my head.

“This is all your fault!” Bo snarled as she advanced on me yet again. I let out an internal sigh as I once more prepared to fend off the irate redhead, moving around the common area of the Kom’rk-class transport we were inside so that the small table was in-between us.

It seemed that I’d been a bit of a fool in thinking Adonai would be able to convince his daughter to leave the sector as war broke out. I knew he’d promised her a new set of full beskar armour, because he’d asked me to give it to her once we were underway. However, I hadn’t had the chance to give it to her as from the moment she’d woken up in her quarters she began shouting, stormed out and, upon seeing me, started trying to kill me.

So far, I’d taken three blasters and six knives from her. After I’d disarmed her of actual weapons, she’d resorted to hand-to-hand combat, occasionally augmented by makeshift items that she liberated from the kitchen station.

From what I’d been able to piece together – helped by Observe – it appeared that Adonai had stunned Bo and deposited her onboard an hour or so before we’d left. And of course, she’d woken up while we were in hyperspace, and I’d come down to see how she was settling in.

Dooku was in the cockpit monitoring the ship while Fay was in her quarters meditating. Both had, via telepathic messages, said that, since I was the one who agreed to having Bo accompany us, I was the one who had to handle the irate Mandalorian.

The first few times that she’d tried to attack me, I’d allowed a few shots to get through, hoping that in getting some anger out, she would have the chance to vent her frustration. And while it seemed to work in the short term, it seemed that the peace didn’t last very long before she was looking for a fight again.

“Take me back now!” She demanded as the chair between us was sent hurtling towards me. “I’m going to kill him!” I fought to not roll my eyes as I stopped the chair in mid-flight and lowered it to the ground.

Not keen for a repeat of last time, since my jaw was beginning to bruise, I decided to end the fight prematurely. Seeing how she seemed to already be in mid-stride, I reached out and grabbed her with the Force, holding her down.

In retrospect, this wasn’t the best idea for calming her down.

“And now, I’m going to KILL YOU as well!” Bo roared as she strained impotently against my grip.

Once we were out of hyperspace, I planned to call Adonai via the Holonet to verbally rip him a new one; probably followed by Bo using every imaginable curse she knew. And, provided I survived the next few months – at a minimum – that Bo was here, then when I next saw Adonai, I was going to knock him on his arse.

Because the longer this went on the more certain I was becoming that he never talked to Bo about this trip, nor left her any ground rules.

… …

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... ...
A/N:
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