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Two Sith POVs in one chapter. Oh, these last 10 minutes I feel like Christmas has come early.x3 And with this meeting, Cam's deadly game of chess with 2 Sith took on a whole new level. How many levels did he gain from this meeting alone, I wonder….

I felt like a fucking moron for not consulting him more on Zonama Sekot as he'd seen more combat than Bo and I had combined. Even when factoring in my former life. Of course, since we didn't have a way to restore power to his brain while acting as resistance, I'd felt it safer to keep him offline and secure than risk damage to his memory circuits. It had worked out in the end, but I wondered just how things would've gone with HK serving as an advisor.
Until now, I assumed HK was contributing to Cam's resistance, just offscreen….
though he wondered when and where the Jedi had encountered a taozin. The creatures were believed to be extinct, and Sidious did not doubt that, if it could be recovered, Plagueis would want a sample for research.
If the Taozin is not extinct as believed, they[Sith] would most likely investigate any and all rumors of other supposedly extinct Force/lightsaber resistant creatures, such as the Zillo Beast.
 
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Force Power Discovered!
Restore
By channelling the Force into an object, you can restore the damage done to it.
The rate of restoration depends on the current level.

USSExplorer
I have not seen this power used again even when it could be usefull. So I thought that I should remind people that it exists
 
The Calm Before the Menace
A/N:
As always, thanks to those helping me write and plan out this story and checking it for continuality and logic errors.


This chapter was released at least 2 weeks ago to my Patreons (with them seeing a draft version around 2 months ago) and on the story's Discord server (in GDoc form) about a week ago.
Links for both are at the end of the chapter.
Hopefully, all the little mistakes have been found and removed.


Current Date: READ THE TITLE (LOL)


The Calm Before the Menace
… …

As my eyes wandered away from the sycophantic gathering of nobles, diplomats, and dignitaries, I found myself staring in awe at the intricate and majestic ceiling above. The exquisite painting and artistic style of the architecture reminded me of the grandeur and elegance of the Sistine Chapel. However, this was far more magnificent, making it a fitting venue to commemorate the crowning of Naboo's new monarch.

Those present were watching as various people of importance – both from within and without the sector – approached the throne to offer Queen Amidala congratulations and often a gift in recognition of her reign. The ceremony to crown her had taken several hours in the main square of Theed, though thankfully the sun had been out all day without it ever feeling hot, and now those of status were in the Celebration Hall, which was built to commemorate the founding of the colony on the planet several millennia ago.

The parade through the streets of Theed that led up to the formal coronation on the steps of the Royal Palace was a joyous one. Everyone seemed welcoming of their new queen, and thanks to Observe, I knew many were happy to finally see King Veruna gone and replaced. Hope and expectation emanated from everywhere, and I did my best to hide concerns about how that hope would be shattered inside of a year by the Trade Federation. Now, there were a few who were concerned about Padmé's age, but they were in the small minority, and even they were joyful and hopeful.

Padmé was wearing a long, regal, red gown that bore a striking similarity to the one she'd worn when the Trade Federation had blockaded and invaded the world, so I assumed red was a colour the Naboo associated with royalty. While the gown was fine, the headdress – made from the tail feathers of a local bird of prey called a Twirrl – was distracting, and I was glad that now she was sitting on a throne greeting her well-wishers that she wasn't wearing it. Yet as much as I disliked the headdress, I couldn't help my smile knowing the lightfoil I'd gifted her when she'd become Princess of Theed was given a place of importance at her hip. Something I felt her advisors weren't overly happy about, but it pleased me to see that she valued my gift.

Of course, I had to remind myself that no matter how much she looked like how she had in the Phantom Menace, unlike the actress who'd played her, Padmé was only a child. Yes, at fourteen she was considered an adult by the Naboo – and Mandalorians – but she was under the Republic age of Responsibility of 16, and until she was twenty-one, her parents decided what she could or couldn't do. Though I suspected that last part was void now that Padmé was queen.

The other issue was that, as much as I liked her, and I knew she liked me, I was involved with someone. While Serra was accepting of what I shared with Bo – and, I felt, interested in experiencing the redhead for herself – Padmé wasn't someone that had come up during our talks – be they serious or joking – about others around us. Though I did find it amusing that Naz, Sia-Lan, Aayla and Rachi's names all came up during those discussions.

Beside me, Fenrir shifted, which failed to draw much response from those around us. Still, as I was positioned far to the back of the hall with Fenrir out of sight of the throne intentionally, and since this was further from the more important dignitaries, it meant those nearby had to stand closer than any would've liked to the hulking beast at my side. Only the fact I wore a lightsaber and that two Naboo guards stood behind me prevented a mass panic from breaking out. Still, even with that, and Palpatine's express approval to allow us to be present, I was using Force Cloak to conceal Fenrir and Force Persuasion to convince others to mind their distance. It wasn't perfect, but it had calmed the ripples of fear that had radiated out when we'd first entered the hall.

Palpatine, who had insisted I attended the ceremony, had wanted me to have a position of prominence near the throne, however, I'd declined. This was Padmé's day, and I didn't want either myself or Fenrir distracting from that. Still, I would eventually be moved to join the line to offer congratulations as Palpatine had insisted I do so, and I felt no need to argue against it. Though I couldn't deny the reactions of those watching, seeing a Jedi and Tuk'ata as large as any man step close to the new Queen was something I was looking forward to. Almost as much as I was looking forward to Padmé's reaction to my presence.

As I continued to watch, a young male – perhaps around Padmé's age – approached the throne. He dropped to a knee, which was an odd choice as few of those who'd come before had done so, and held up a box that, with some Force-assisted sight, I saw was very intricately carved. The boy appeared nervous as a man moved from the side of Padme's throne to stand next to him. I couldn't hear what the man was saying clearly since I was so far away from the throne on purpose and wasn't willing to use the Force to boost my hearing. While the hall was generally quiet, when I'd done that before, I'd been bombarded by comments from others in the hall. None had been particularly loud, but it had been unnecessarily annoying.

"Kun Lago, former Prime Counsellor of King Veruna, and his son, Ian." I stiffened as Palpatine whispered the details from behind my shoulder. I hadn't sensed his approach even when I wasn't entirely focused on Padme and those around me. That was a clear sign of how easily he could hide his presence. "No doubt he hopes to regain some of his former glory with our new Queen."

"If the rumours about Veruna's corruption are true, I don't see that happening. Hells, I'm honestly surprised he hasn't been brought in for questioning."

Palpatine chuckled as I turned to face him. "While I'm sure that has happened, he and the former king have enough supporters remaining, that any investigation would be squashed before the details could reach the public."

I grunted and glanced back to see a guard take the box from Ian even as Padmé spoke to Kun. "Hmm, in that case, might I suggest the new queen grants him a position? One that involves managing Theed's sanitation needs."

Palpatine's smile grew. "While it would certainly be a worthy appointment, I fear the new queen is less vindictive than we would be in her position. A trait that has helped her rapidly rise to the throne. That and adding someone with Kun's reputation to her cabinet, even in such a suitable position, would undermine confidence in her government before it could begin."

I nodded, accepting his words even though I noted he'd not replied to my comment about Veruna. I had little doubt he knew where many of the bodies were buried and had likely – through people like Sate Prestige – made sure those bodies were found at opportune moments to undermine Veruna. Just as I had little doubt he'd helped subtly to ensure the seemingly malleable Padmé could assume the throne not long before he brought about the blockade and invasion of Naboo.

"The boy appeared nervous," I remarked as he guided me and Fenrir – who he never seemed bothered by, but also avoided bringing up – toward one side of the hall. "Is his father hoping to seek a betrothal for the queen?"

The Senator stopped and placed a hand on my shoulder, ignoring the faint growl that action brought forth from Fenrir. On some level, I suspected that the tuk'ata could sense something off about the hidden Sith, though I never brought it up. Not after communicating, as best I could, with Fenrir and making him understand that I knew Palpatine was trouble, but that I needed to stay close to him, for now, to avoid him suspecting I knew his true intentions.

"Kun might well seek such an alliance; however, I am certain the queen would reject the overture." He smiled warmly. "I suspect Queen Amidala, if she were to pursue a consort, has already set her eyes upon another."

"Said suitor would be a lucky man."

Palpatine nodded and then turned, his hand sliding from my robes. As he moved, I glanced at the place he'd touched. No obvious device was present, but I'd still check the robes later to be sure. Now, I didn't expect him to ever be so open, but I wasn't discounting him, or someone working for him, might try to bug or track me. Thus, I'd made it obvious at times – around him and others – that I checked my robes for such things. Most felt I was being paranoid, but just because I was, didn't mean people wouldn't try to track me.

Palpatine led me and Fenrir toward a small door. There, a guard tensed as he saw Fenrir approach, but said nothing as he pressed what looked like an ID tag against the door. As it silently slid open, he stepped to one side and allowed us to enter without incident. The door closed behind us, leaving us in a darkened, narrow corridor that was only illuminated by coloured light strips along the wall.

As I was guided through the corridor and others, I took in the various strips of light that seemed to take different paths, guiding those who used the tunnels to different locations without any signposts. It was an ingenious and effective layer of security that I had not anticipated from the peaceful Naboo. As we passed by larger intersections, I noticed guards stationed at strategic points and several servants and droids bustling around, tending to their duties. Despite our presence, only the mouse droids scurried out of our way, while even Fenrir's appearance from the shadows failed to elicit any reaction from the other individuals. It was as though we were invisible, and our movements went unnoticed.

Eventually, the path we were following – a light purple strip – reached an end. With practised ease, Palpatine ran his hand over a section of the wall and a door slid open. I blinked, caught off slightly by the shift in brightness, and when it passed, I saw we'd arrived at a part of the line waiting to greet Padmé. Thanks to having already walked the hall the day before – while it was quiet and Padmé was busy with other preparations so she wouldn't know I was present – I'd formed a map of it, as such I knew we were no more than a hundred metres from her.

When I'd initially agreed to Palpatine's idea of attending the coronation, I'd wanted to remain in the shadows until the banquet tonight. However, the Senator had been insistent that I announce myself no later than in this hall. To do otherwise, he claimed, would be a grievous insult to her and the people of Naboo.

Several people, both those waiting in line and their attendants, turned our way as we emerged. None reacted to the presence of the Senator and a Jedi, though most did when Fenrir emerged. I was still using Force Persuasion to calm everyone, but the sudden emergence of a nearly two-metre-tall beast from a hidden passage unnerved many. Several guards moved closer, only stopping when Palpatine raised a hand.

"Here," he said as he indicated a slot in the line. As I moved closer the man there bowed and shifted away, allowing me to take the spot. Clearly, he'd been standing to reserve my spot and I wondered how many other guests had someone do that for them. "While I understand you'd prefer to join the line later, none can approach the queen until they pass the final security checkpoint." He turned and indicated a wide arch where a dozen guards were stationed. I could sense two more on each side, manning laser-cannons that were hidden behind closed windows.

"Thank you, Senator," I said as I lowered my head.

"But of course, Master Jedi," he replied, which drew the attention of several nearby. Something he no doubt intended as it would likely look good for him to be associated with a Jedi friendly to the new queen.

Behind me, I heard someone move, only for Fenrir to turn. A quiet but high-pitched squeak escaped from there before I heard footsteps of someone rapidly moving away. Palpatine glanced passed me and chuckled. "I wonder if I might one day borrow your companion. I feel having him with me would allow me to avoid the worst of those wishing to monopolise my time in the Senate."

I chuckled and shook my head. "While Fenrir would certainly help with that, I fear how he would react having to deal with those who frequent the halls of power in the Republic.

Palpatine glanced at Fenrir and a faint smile, one that hinted at malevolence slipped onto his face. "Yes, as amusing as imagining such a scenario is, it would be unwise to allow it to happen. Still, one can but dream." While most would ignore the smile, thinking he was simply enjoying the dark humour of my remark, I felt it might well be a hint of his true self showing through. Though I had no proof of that. "I must leave you here. When you arrive at the throne, I will be on hand to deflect some of the queen's attention."

"Until then."

With a nod, he moved off and I waited. It took about twenty minutes to reach the security checkpoint, with the guards there tensing the closer I and Fenrir got. Once it was our turn to pass through the checkpoint, the two that were directly checking guests tensed and gripped their rifles tighter as they approached.

"Sir, your, uh, beast…"

I grinned knowingly while casually parting my robes, revealing the gleaming lightsaber at my side. "Fenrir stands as my loyal companion, bound to my in the Force. His fangs are reserved solely for those harbouring malicious designs against me. The Jedi Council allows his presence, as do Senator Palpatine and Queen Amidala—though she remains unacquainted in person as of yet." Slipping an identification chit to the guard, I watched as it was scanned. The other sentinel inched closer, halted abruptly—much like the scanning guard—when Fenrir emitted a discontented growl. "Patience, Fenrir. They are merely doing their jobs; even if their intentions soured, this would not be where they'd mount an assault." Fenrir advanced, nudging my shoulder with his powerful head, nudging me into motion. To regain my balance, I adjusted my stance, scratching his chin with the hand that bore the lightsaber. "Indeed, once this affair concludes, a brisk run would likely do us some good." Fenrir exhaled in approval, coinciding with the return of my identity chit from the guard's grasp.

"You are free to pass, Master Jedi."

I nodded my thanks, hiding my amusement at the fear wafting off him and walked through the checkpoint, entirely unconcerned with the dozen blasters levelled at Fenrir and myself. If they even thought about attacking, they'd be lucky to survive Fenrir's response let alone mine. To say nothing of the bollocking Palpatine and Padmé would certainly give them.

As we emerged through the checkpoint and came into view of the masses, a small commotion started. I placed my hand on Fenrir's side and smiled at the crowds. "Easy Fenrir. They're just afraid of you. As they should be." He snorted in agreement. "If you behave, then I'll see if you might be allowed to hunt a native beast." Even if he didn't lift his head and expose his teeth in an animalistic grin, I'd know he was excited by the chance to prove himself against the local predators. His desire to be the alpha, to dominate all challengers, resonated through the Force.

Sensing surprise from a familiar presence, I turned to the throne and saw locked eyes with Padmé. Her eyes were slightly wider than normal, though there was no other outward hint that she was shocked to see me and Fenrir. After getting over the surprise, she returned her attention to the lady speaking to her. One who'd seemingly stumbled over her words after Fenrir's emergence into the light of the hall.

After waiting for about fifteen minutes, it was finally my turn to approach the throne. I could sense Padmé's growing interest and curiosity as I neared her. As I climbed the steps to greet her, Fenrir wisely remained below, knowing that any sudden movements might provoke Captain Panaka and the others to open fire. Just then, Palpatine emerged from the shadows and stepped into view. "Your Majesty, may I have the honour of introducing Jedi Knight Cameron Shan. Though, given his companion, I suspect you were already aware of his presence for some time." The people around us chuckled nervously as I knelt a few steps below the throne, awaiting Padmé's response.

"Yes, I had observed their approach for the last few minutes," Padmé replied regally. "I believe when we last spoke, you told me you would be unable to attend."

I stood and smiled at her. "I beg your forgiveness, my queen. The Senator was able to convince me to alter my plans, though he at least agreed with keeping my presence hidden until the last possible moment so as to not distract others during your glorious celebration."

Padmé remained stoic in her seat, not outwardly letting on how she felt. However, thanks to the Force I could sense her delight at me referring to her as my queen, and amusement at my reasoning.

"I see." She turned her head to Palpatine, who looked resplendent in his Senatorial robes. "Normally I would be concerned about you keeping secrets from me Senator; however, in this case, I accept your reasoning. Nor do I deny that seeing Knight Shan again is an unexpected delight."

"Your Majesty." Palpatine bowed deeply as he accepted her comment.

"I see that you weren't lying when you spoke of Fenrir's size," Padmé said, looking beyond us toward Fenrir. "While I have seen him through Holocalls, laying eyes on him in person is another matter entirely."

I chuckled and glanced back at Fenrir, who as if knowing he was the centre of attention, lifted his head high and turned just enough to expose his spinal crests. In particular, the one he'd lost on Zonama Sekot. "Tuk'ata are not normal creatures, my queen. They are as connected to the Force as a Jedi, and it enables them to grow rapidly." Fenrir shook his head and then locked eyes on the queen. "He is but a pup yet already fully grown, or so the Council hopes."

Several chuckled, though there was still a nervous undercurrent as I turned back to Padmé. "Ah, yes. I almost forgot." Slowly I reached into my robes. "The Senator informed me that a gift was customarily given to a new monarch upon their ascension." I tilted my head toward her as I continued. "While finding a gift that would surpass your lightfoil on short notice was difficult, more so that it might be misinterpreted as a gift of courtship," I sensed a rush of embarrassment and desire from her as I spoke, "I do hope this meets with your satisfaction."

I pulled a small box from my robes and handed it to Palpatine. He took it and brought it toward Padmé. As he opened the box, she inhaled sharply, as did several of her handmaidens. One of her hands twitched as if she would make a move to take the necklace, but that was the only physical reaction she made.

"It is beautiful, Master Jedi. Might I inquire about its design?"

My smile widened as I replied. "Based on your love of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, I had it made in the design of the Evenstar. If Your Majesty might recall, it was…"

"...The necklace Arwen gifted Aragorn before he set off with the Fellowship."

I nodded as Padmé finished the description. I had considered gifting her a copy of the first book in the KOTOR trilogy as that was due to release in a few months, but I'd decided against it, choosing some from the Lord of the Rings given Padmé's love of that series. "Yes, though this one is framed around a pearl taken from a greater krayt dragon, your majesty."

"I hadn't realised a Jedi could afford such a gift," Palpatine commented calmly.

"Knight Shan killed one on Tatooine several years ago as a Padawan," Padmé replied as I realised Palpatine's ploy. He was feigning ignorance to bring up that not only was the gift personal, but I had killed the krayt dragon personally. By associating with me and Padmé like this, I suspected he was securing his position even further. "Something done without the use of the Force or his lightsaber."

"Ah yes, forgive me for forgetting, Your Majesty," Palpatine remarked as he closed the box. "I find it hard to dwell on how close our young Jedi came to dying during that trial." Padmé's eyes followed the action, making clear she liked the gift, though she made no move to take it now. From what I'd seen, she'd not touched any gift directly, so to accept it like that would break decorum. And possibly, start rumours about us. "Even knowing he survived, I feel as if my heart has stopped whenever the memory returns."

"An understandable reaction, Senator. And one I admit to having shared." Padmé finally dragged her eyes from the box and returned them to me. "I thank you for the gift, Master Jedi, and hope we might speak more at the banquet this evening."

"I'm at your service, Your Majesty," I replied with a bow. When I came up, even if she had to keep a smile off her face, I could see the delight dancing in her eyes.

With nothing more to say, I turned and walked down, patting Fenrir once next to him again. As we walked away, I ignored the gazes coming our way. They could be impressed, shocked, jealous or infuriated all they wanted. I knew none would make a move against me. Not now or at the banquet. That little display that Palpatine had on showed that he, Padmé and I were on friendly terms. Something I knew he'd used to his advantage.

Still, since he'd created the link, I'd have to do the same. While most people here held little long-term value, gaining connections with people like Panaka and Padmé's handmaidens would be beneficial soon. Though I hoped that the banquet tonight wouldn't be as extravagant and long as the ones I'd endured on Zygerria. I'd take a whole-in-the-wall cantina, a few shots of Mandalorian ale, and good company over galas and government functions any day.


… …


… …

Later that day, after the banquet had ended, I found myself walking around the palace. Padmé had insisted that I stay the night inside the palace, and after accepting, I'd returned to Theed's spaceport and flown Raven into a private hangar. Ironically, it seemed to be the same one Naboo fighters had launched from in the Phantom Menace. The short trip with Raven had allowed me to check up on Simvyl, and Fenrir. The Cathar hadn't been interested in being at my side during the festivities, preferring the peace and quiet of Raven, and while the banquet tonight had been better than those on Zygerria, I felt he'd gotten the better end of the stick. As had Fenrir who I'd decided against bringing to the event on the chance someone made the mistake of irritating him and thus lost a limb.

As I neared my assigned quarters, a guard stepped into my path. Sensing no ill-intent from him, even though his hand rested on his blaster, I made no move for my lightsaber, though I still made note of the dozen other beings within fifty metres of us. The closest one stepped out to join the guard, revealing themselves to be a servant.

"Master Jedi," the servant began, being far more relaxed than the guard. "Her Majesty wishes to speak with you privately." It took me a moment to realise the servant was likely Sabé, one of Padmé's handmaidens. Sabé's eyes were filled with curiosity as she waited, though it was hard to make out her full face as it was hidden by a hood that left shadows dancing over her features.

"Of course." Sabé turned and I followed her into a side passage. Like the ones in the hall from earlier today, it was unmarked save for the light strips. The guard fell into step behind me, his posture making clear he was still tense.

"May I know your name?" I asked as a door closed off the passage behind us.

"I'm Sabé," she replied without turning, confirming my suspicion. In less than a year, she would be at Padmé's side when the Trade Federation invasion and, in the canon timeline at least, had stood in as her decoy on several occasions. Hopefully, that level of subterfuge wouldn't be needed with my presence, but I was still relieved to learn she was at Padmé's side. "Might I know your full name, Master Jedi?"

I smiled slightly, though she couldn't see that as she led me down the darkened corridor. "Cameron Shan, but my friends, of which I hope you might one day be, call me Cam." As I'd expected, Sabé seemed to pause mid-step. It only lasted a second, but that was enough to confirm that Padmé had spoken about me to others.

After that, we moved in silence through the corridor, following a pale blue strip until it ended. There, a door slid open, and we emerged into a new corridor. I could sense a dozen beings nearby as we emerged, though only four were visible. Those four stood outside a set of large doors. Like much of the decoration in this corridor, the doors were overly ornate, verging on ostentatious. This didn't seem like Padmé's style, so I assumed this was left over from Veruna and Padmé hadn't yet had time to redecorate.

"The queen has requested the presence of the Jedi," Sabé said as she led me toward the large doors. Two of the guards looked me over carefully while one at the rear shifted, bringing his arm closer to his face. I could see the light of a small display flare to life as he examined something upon it.

"He's clean," the guard said, which had the others relax.

The four stepped to the sides, allowing Sabé and me access to the large doors. She pressed against the door, her fingers moving to enter a code, and a moment later the doors swung open. Once we were inside, the doors pulled closed, leaving us standing in an open antechamber. There was a large table with freshly cut flowers and a bowl of fruit in the centre, along with a jug and four ceramic cups, that had a half-dozen comfortable-looking chairs around it. Doors led off in three directions, though I suspected that only the double one directly in front of us, given their size, led to the royal chamber.

Seeing we were alone, Sabé turned and pulled back her hood, smiling as she looked me over. That let me see her face clearly for the first time, confirming she matched what I remembered from the movie. And since I knew the actress' name, I knew what she'd likely look like as she aged. "Master Jedi, might I ask, but are you the Cam that Padmé has so often spoken of?"

I smiled at the question. I reached past her and picked up a cup, taking a sip once I realised it contained water. "And which Cam would this be?" I replied, taking a step toward her.

"The Cam she spoke of meeting several years ago during the evacuation of the Shadda-bi-Borans," Sabé responded with a smirk. "The one she claims is the author of the Lord of the Rings trilogy of holonovels as well. The one Padmé speaks of when…"

"Sabé!"

Padme's call cut off whatever little secret the handmaiden was about to reveal and drew my attention to the doors to the royal chamber. Padmé was there, having exited a moment before, without any of the gaudy clothing her station seemed to demand. Instead, she wore an apparently simple, yet no doubt expensive, gown over what appeared to be her sleepwear. "I asked you to bring him here, not place him under interrogation."

Sabé curtseyed. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I was simply curious about your interest in the Jedi, and then learnt his name matched that of the one you…"

"Sabé!" Padmé called out for the second time within a minute. She looked at me, some panic evident in her eyes. "I... I'm sorry for her behaviour. She's got this idea that…"

I held up my hand, stopping Padmé before she finished. "It's fine, Padmé. Truthfully, I feel better knowing those around you know the real you, and not Queen Amidala. It eases my concerns about you being in danger from those who might try to exploit a new, young monarch." Sabé's smile grew as I spoke, which caused Padmé to blush. I turned back to the handmaiden. "While I don't know what it was the queen cut you off from saying, I am the author of those novels. And the series of holomovies that are in production." Both girls perked up at hearing that, indicating that Sabé was just as much a fan of the trilogy as Padmé was. "However, I'd prefer that little nugget stays between us."

"Yes, yes," Padmé replied absently, a smile spreading over her face. "Sabé, you may leave us."

Sabé, a smile also on her face, glanced between me and Padmé. "With respect, Your Highness, I am to always remain by your side." She fixed her eyes on me as her smile evolved into a grin. "Even when your thoughts are on things with less than pure intent."

"Sabé!" That was all Padmé managed to get out as she gawked at her handmaiden. For my part, I simply chuckled and shook my head. "Cam!" I shrugged in response, not willing to risk speaking and somehow making this more embarrassing for the young queen.

Padmé took a few deep breaths. While those calmed her, they did nothing for her rosy cheeks. "Sabé, please leave us. If I cannot feel safe with a Jedi at my side, then how could I with anyone else?"

"Your Highness." Sabé curtseyed again, though as she stood, she fixed me with a glance that made clear she knew what I was thinking. She was wrong, though only for the next few years. I watched as she walked away, though toward one of the smaller side doors. No doubt, those led to the handmaiden's quarters. Something confirmed by two female heads that popped into view as Sabé stepped into the room.

"And close the door behind you!" Padmé called out, though her attention was on me and not her handmaiden. If it was, she'd have seen the door fail to close as something blocked it from closing, allowing those on the other side to watch discreetly. While that might have been because of simple curiosity about me and Padmé, I felt it was more to do with watching the queen even when she didn't wish to be watched. That thought calmed my nerves regarding her safety over what was no more than half a year away.

"So," Padmé began, drawing my attention from her handmaidens to her. She took a step toward me, only to stop as she craned her neck to look up at me. After blinking, she took a step back. "have you been well?"

"Very well," I replied with a shrug. I nodded at the table, and the chairs around it, and after a nod from her, escorted her into one of the chairs. "Had a few adventures, lost one starship, gained another. Made some new friends, said goodbye to others and fought more battles," I explained as I sat next to her.

As I sat, she pulled her chair close. Her hand then moved toward my face. "Yes, I can see that." Her fingers brushed aside some of my hair and then traced the scar, over my left eye, left by the Vong. "And I saw Fenrir's wound as well. He seemed… proud of it?"

"Tuk'ata are bred for war. Being wounded in battle and surviving is a good thing for them."

"And what else does he enjoy?" she asked as she pulled her fingers from my face, letting them drift down my arm.

"Battle or hunting are the only things that seem to calm him," I replied before chuckling. "He might settle if he found a mate, but he's not yet shown an interest in such things."

"And what about you?" I stared at Padmé. For her part, the blush grew stronger, and she imitated a fish for a few moments as she realised how what she'd said could be interpreted.

I placed my hand on hers, cutting off her flailing to find a way to escape her slip. "I find spending time with friends is a good way to unwind after a stressful situation. Such as spending all day dealing with people wanting something from you because of a promotion." She blinked as I spoke. "Congratulations on your ascension."

"Thank you." She turned away and reached for a cup of water.

"Of course, once I heard you were standing, I had faith you would win. So much in fact, I may have broken some minor Jedi rules and placed a wager on you winning. One that paid off and I'd now like to donate to the Refugee Relief Movement and a local charity of your choice."

The cup had frozen at her lips when I'd said I'd bet on her winning and hadn't moved since. "You really don't have to do that."

"No, but I want to. And it's harmless fun. Credits matter little to a Jedi." I bit off any mental retort about how much bullshit that was with around a billion credits in my name. I'd moved some to other accounts, under various aliases, though it was surprisingly hard to draw more than a few million from the account without having to deal with the IGBC. I doubted that was Plagueis' work, as stopping withdrawing the credits would be an odd move for an ally, but he certainly was made aware I was trying to withdraw and transfer the funds into other accounts. "Since I won, because of you, I might as well let you have some say in how they're used. So, who should I make the donation to?"

"T-the Naboo Children's Fund," she answered slowly. "They help young, underprivileged children to follow their dreams. Sabé was one helped by them." When she finished speaking, she took a sip of her water.

"Good. A half-million to each then," I commented just as she swallowed. As she coughed and spluttered I laughed. I expected this would defuse any lingering tension between us and was proved corrected when, after she stopped coughing, she slapped my arm.

"Cam!" Of course, the blow didn't hurt, and I kept laughing, which quickly diffused her anger, and soon she was chuckling along with me. "Are you certain?" She asked once the laughter had died down.

"Yes. What's the point of making a wager if there's not some risk involved?" I shot back, a wide smile on my face. Only part of those donations was coming from my winnings, the majority was coming from my funds. I had little doubt Padmé would mention this around people and Palpatine would hear word of it. When that got back to Plagueis, I hoped the Sith would think I'd used most if not all, the credits I'd withdrawn so far – around fifteen million. If they did, I'd have some leeway to use those credits off the books – as almost all of it was now stored in my Inventory – without them trying to track my actions. "So, when should I, oof!"

My question was cut off as Padmé leaned forward and onto her tiptoes, cutting off the distance between us, and pressed her lips against mine. As I tasted the faintest hint of something sweet on her lips, my brain froze.

When it unfroze, I cursed the fact my attempt to remove the tension had failed even as I felt myself begin to kiss her back. Thankfully, she pulled back before my hands could move as I feared they'd bring her closer instead of pushing her away. Before I could say anything, she blinked, slipped from her seat and then raced away.

I turned, watching as she pushed the large doors to her chamber open enough to slip through. As they closed, I caught sight of the large, luxurious bed within. When the doors closed behind her, with the Handmaiden's one following a second later, I facepalmed.

"Haar'chak!" I spat into my hand as it dragged down my face.

I'd hoped to avoid that happening, to distract her with the wager. Instead, it seemed that had been the final straw she'd needed to make her move. Oh, she was embarrassed that she had, but it had happened. If I could, I'd avoid seeing her again until she was a few years older, however with what was right around the corner, that wouldn't work. For so many reasons.

I stood, placing the mugs back next to the jug. "Thank you for the meeting, Your Majesty," I said loudly so my voice would carry to her, the handmaidens and the guards outside. "However, the hour is getting late, and I feel it unwise if I remain any longer. You undoubtedly have a busy day tomorrow and I need to return to Coruscant."

With my piece said to the empty room, I walked toward the main doors. With each step, I hoped what had happened here didn't ruin my friendship with her, and wondered how Serra would react when Padmé likely reached out to talk about this. I then grunted in annoyance as I realised that I'd have to explain this to Serra before Padmé called to avoid her reaction.

As I exited the antechamber, I wondered what Nar Shaddaa looked like this time of year.

… …



… …

A little over a week after Padme's coronation, I was back on Mtael's Gift. I'd left Naboo two days after the banquet, not having managed to speak to Padmé again, as she was busy being the leader of Naboo. While part of me did think she was avoiding me – which was enforced by the fact each time she looked my way I felt her embarrassment – it had allowed me time to scout out Theed. Palpatine himself had given me the formal tour, no doubt using the fact he was close to a Jedi who Queen Amidala was friends with to further his reputation with the locals while attempting to worm deeper into my trust.

After that, I'd left Naboo and travelled a little, taking my time before arriving in the ShaDo system. When I'd arrived, I discovered they'd just completed another successful raid against a minor Hutt on Makeb. Thus, last night there'd been a feast that celebrated the freedom of new members of the community. There I'd discovered that most of the freed slaves had been pleasure slaves, and as the night had worn on, and tales of my actions in founding and supporting the Lokella were told, I drew the attention of many of the newly freed slaves. While most were polite in their thanks, a pair of Zeltron twins felt I deserved a more personal reward.

With my thoughts focused on Padmé and Naboo, I'd turned them down, though that hadn't stopped the pair from trying their best to bed me. If not for the Interface activating Player's Mind automatically to block their pheromones, I doubt I'd have been able to resist. The pair were fucking gorgeous. Yet I had resisted, though only by leaving the feast before the drink flowed too much.

Because of the feast, the corridors of the station were quieter than usual. Those that had assignments were going about them but most of the other inhabitants of the station were seemingly sleeping off the effects of the night before. That was useful as it gave me time to take a slow, leisurely walk toward the Skywalker's cabin, which was my reason for stopping here on my way to Mandalore.

On Mandalore I planned to bring HK back to full functionality, or as close as my mediocre skills would allow. I'd already spoken to Bo via the Holonet about the project, and she was excited. Though that might also be because I'd revealed that I was now with Serra. No doubt the red-haired warrior wanted details, and probably wished to learn when she could have her chance at my fellow Jedi. Still, Bo was happy I was bringing Anakin along with me for HK's rebirth. As much as she might deny it, she had a sweet spot for the kid - a fact I enjoyed teasing her about whenever Anakin had come up in conversation between us. I doubted Bo wanted children as of yet, but I also knew she'd make a great mother. At least in terms of allowing kids the freedom to learn by doing, even if that meant making mistakes along the way.

"And here I thought this morning's walk would be wasted."

I paused mid-stride at the sensual, almost musical voice that floated toward me from my right. As I turned, I saw Surmi, one of the Zeltron twins leaning against the wall. While she wasn't actively trying to show off her frame – at least I didn't feel she was – the way she rested did little to hide her impressive figure or assets.

"Surmi, I figured you and your sister would've found someone to warm your sheets at the party," I spoke softly with a smile, letting her know I wasn't bothered if she had.

Surmi chuckled and pushed off the wall, drawing my sight to her chest as it swayed in the tight shirt she wore. One that was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tempting amount of cleavage. "We did. Our night was enjoyable, and our companions were enthusiastic. Syshe is still sleeping off our escapades, however, I find my thoughts continually drawn to just what a Jedi might be capable of. Even as slaves, stories of the prowess of Jedi in battle had reached our ears and I cannot escape wondering if such prowess extends beyond the battlefield. Preferably to actions that are far more pleasurable for all involved." Each step she took toward me had her hips swaying evocatively and even if she was limiting how active her pheromones were, I could feel myself reacting to her presence.

"As I said last night, while the offer is incredibly tempting, another holds a place of importance in my heart. As much as I'm sure we'd both enjoy time together, I'm unsure how she would feel about me bedding someone as beautiful as you. Especially as we've only just met."

Surmi's smile grew as she moved closer and placed a single finger against my chest. She wasn't short, but I still towered over her, forcing me to look down and making it hard to avoid my eyes wandering to the opening in her shirt. "This other means much to you, does she?"

"She does. More so than I suspect the Jedi Council would approve of," I replied with a smile coming to my face as I thought of Serra. Though thoughts of her were soon joined by Bo.

"She is the one the others talk of. The female Mandalorian?"

"No. Bo and I separated due to our paths parting," though I knew our paths would soon cross again. Serra knew this too, and while I'd sensed some trepidation from her over me reuniting with Bo, for the most part, she was accepting of it. Even going so far as to say she was happy if I slept with Bo again. While she didn't say anything else, I felt her curiosity and desire flare for a moment when she said that, making me wonder if Bo was right about Serra being just as attracted to females as she was to males. Or at least to me.

Surmi blinked and tilted her head. "The Mandalorian is comfortable with this?"

"Yes, as is the other. Both know each other, and I think, perhaps, they might like each other as well."

Surmi chuckled and ran her finger down my chest, letting the contours of my skin guide her path. "Then you are very lucky. As are they to be able to enjoy you." Her finger stopped just above my waist, and she stood on her tiptoes. "If they are amenable," she whispered into my ear, "my sister and I would be more than willing to join all three of you for however long you'd take us." As she finished, her lips brushed against my cheek.

I stayed still as she pulled back. The idea of her and her sister joining Bo, Serra and me in bed was… going to rattle around my head for some time to come. I knew Bo would take the offer without issue, but I doubted Serra would react well. Though, I did rather hope she'd be interested.

"Until later, Mtael," Surmi finished as she slipped past me, her fingers dragging over my side until she could no longer maintain contact. It took most of my self-control to not react to the way she made that title sound positively scandalous, and for the first time, I found I didn't mind being called that.

Turning, I watched her go, my eyes drawn to the way her hips moved, defying gravity with each step, until she slipped from view. "Fucking hell," I muttered to the empty corridor. I already had issues with Padmé – and possibly Sabé if the way she'd looked at me before I'd left Naboo was any indication – to sort out. Never mind the affection Miraj had shown me. "When did my life turn into a freaking love novel?"

After shaking my head, I resumed my walk toward the Skywalker's cabin, pushing aside thoughts of females that seemingly wanted to bed me and each other to one side. I really didn't need those bouncing around my head when I spoke to Anakin and his mother.

Once at their door, I pressed the buzzer. Since neither had stayed at the feast until late last night – not unless they'd returned after I'd left – they should be up. I could sense them inside, though as Anakin moved to the door, I frowned as Detection indicated someone else was inside.

"Who is it?"

I smiled, glad to see that Anakin wasn't just opening the door whenever someone buzzed. He was far too trusting and open with others, and I'd feared someone might take advantage of that – and of the clear fact I visited him whenever I stopped in the system – to target him and Shmi to get to me. "It's Cam."

The door was opened even before I finished, making me wonder if Anakin could sense it was me.

"Cam!" I barely had time to hear his excited call before he barrelled into me. Since he was only nine, that meant the hug was locked around my waist, trapping me. Thankfully, I'd know this was coming and braced for it.

"Good morning, Anakin. I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, we were just getting ready for breakfast," I looked into the cabin, failing to hide my shock at seeing Ferox standing in the main room in something akin to a toga and his hair was damp at the edges. "I suspect Anakin will insist you join us."

"Yes, come in!" Before I knew it, the boy had dragged me into the main room. While I was puzzled to find Ferox here, the former gladiatorial slave seemed amused.

"I'm… surprised to find you here at this hour," I said to Ferox even as Anakin tried to drag me to the sofa. No doubt he wanted to show me something he'd learnt while I was away. Normally, I'd let him, but the presence of the Corellian had my attention.

"Oh, Cameron. I hadn't realised you were going to come over." I turned, as did Ferox, to see Shmi step into the room. She was wearing a simple dress with a towel wrapped around her hair. "Please, won't you join us for breakfast?"

I looked over to the table and saw three places were already set. My eyes turned back to Ferox and Shmi as I put it together. "Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't realise you already had plans." I didn't know when, where, why, or how it had happened, but between my last visit to the station and now Shmi had gotten close to Ferox. Close enough that he was staying over, and Anakin seemed comfortable with it. That was certainly a surprise, but not one I was upset about, Anakin could use another positive male role model.

"You're always welcome," Shmi responded as she moved closer to Ferox, taking his hand in hers, confirming my suspicions. "If not for you, all of us here would either still be slaves or dead. To us, you are family."

I nodded my thanks, not finding the words to reply to such a statement. As I sat, I watched the pair. Ferox was headstrong and aggressive while Shmi was incredibly gentle and caring. It was an odd pairing, at least on the surface, but I sensed they did truly care for each other beyond simple infatuation. Nearby, Anakin pulled utensils out of a drawer that sunk into the wall for me. I smiled in thanks as he placed the plate, cup and cutlery on the table for me.

"If I might ask, how long have you been close?" I asked as Ferox held out the chair for Shmi to sit on.

"Around two months," Shmi replied as Ferox sat beside her, kissing the top of her head as he did so. The smile on his face was an odd one. I mean, I'd seen him smile before, but that had been when he'd been sparring or fighting. Then, there'd been an almost reckless abandon to him. This smile was soft and tender; an expression I never expected to see on his face.

"I had returned from an assault on a slave market two sectors away," Ferox said as he took over the story. "While we liberated most of the slaves, I was wounded in the fight. Shmi here watched over me for a week as the bacta healed my wounds, spending every meal with me so I wouldn't feel lonely."

Shmi smiled and leaned against Ferox's shoulder. "Once he was healed, and after one of his training sessions for Anakin and others his age, he came over and asked me to join him for a meal." Shmi's smile grew as she turned and looked up at Ferox. "From there, things developed quicker than I think either of us expected. It was Anakin here that first mentioned how happy I was with Ferox, and said how happy he was for me."

I smiled and ruffled Anakin's head upon hearing that. While the boy disliked my action, it gave me a moment to quickly consider this development. Obviously, by taking her from Tatooine, her eventual marriage to Cliegg Lars – and then death at the hands of Tusken Raiders – wasn't going to happen, so I couldn't consider this change a bad thing. Still, I'd have to speak with Anakin and others about Ferox, especially if Shmi was managing to smooth out his rougher, blunter edges.

As I returned my gaze to the loving couple, I felt something subtle shift in the Force. Curious, I used Observe on both and was surprised to see their feelings were genuine, that both were concerned I wouldn't approve and that the pair had an awkward conversation coming in a month or two. "I'm happy for both of you," I said, easing their nerves, "and wish you joy for what the future brings."

Both frowned, wondering at my choice of words, however neither could say anything as something pinged in the kitchen. As Shmi stood and moved to gather breakfast, I watched her go, processing that I now knew, thanks to Observe, that she was with child. While I suspected the child wouldn't have much, if any Force sensitivity – as neither parent did, and Anakin was an anomaly – their existence was going to affect Anakin dramatically. Any formal training at the Temple was now out as I knew the boy would reject going if it meant leaving his mother and sibling.

"Where have you been this time?" the boy asked, drawing me from my thoughts on the changes occurring to the timeline. I didn't need the Force to know he was excited to hear of my latest adventure.

"Nowhere exciting," I replied with a shrug before passing my plate to Shmi as she returned with a bowl. "I attended a diplomatic summit at the request of a Senator and then spent time in the Temple." I brushed over the details of events on Eriadu, and time spent with Serra simply because I didn't want to worry him. "Though before coming here, I attended a royal coronation." I didn't go into detail there as I didn't want him looking up Padmé on the Holonet. Ignoring that he might be fated to fall for her, if he knew of her now, then he might well try and somehow sneak there when Naboo was invaded. Plus, taking him would've placed him in Palpatine's sight, something I wanted to avoid for as long as possible.

"Wizard! What was that like?" He asked, barely managing to sit still even as Shmi placed food on his plate.

I chuckled at his behaviour and ruffled his hair once again. Though that did little to change his mood. "Honestly? Boring. Lots of pageantry, formality, and false politeness."

Ferox grunted. "Sounds awful."

I nodded as I put my fork into the food. "It had its moments," I countered. Of course, the main one that stuck in my thoughts wasn't one I wanted to dwell on.

From there on, we spoke of mundane matters over breakfast. Shmi and Ferox updated me on the size and strength of the Lokella – now numbering just under seventy thousand between the station, fleet, and colony below – while I let them know a few titbits of information about what was happening on Coruscant. Ferox offered some blunt – but, I could admit, appealing – ways to handle the more tedious Senatorial debates I'd watched, which made me chuckle. All the while Anakin tried to enter the conversation, asking questions about what I'd done and telling tales – sometimes tall ones – of his adventures on the station.

About thirty minutes later we finished the meal and I stood, collecting up my plates.

"You don't have to do that," Shmi commented with a gentle smile. "You're our guest."

"It's the least I can do for inviting me to join," I replied as I placed Anakin's plate on my own, and then took them and the cutlery over to the automated washer. Anakin tagged along, our cups in his hands. After that, I glanced at Shmi and then nodded my head toward Anakin.

"Anakin, go and wash and brush."

"Do I have to?" He whined. "I want to stay with Cam."

"I'll be here when you get back, I promise." He smiled at that and rushed through the main room. "If you rush though I won't take you out on Raven!" I added as the door to the washroom slid closed. With him gone, and after letting Ferox chuckle at my idle threat, I turned to Shmi,

"The boy loves flying almost as much as he loves taking things apart and rebuilding them," Ferox commented, making me smile. Anakin had a knack for technology, and a desire to understand it that few other sentients had. Something that would've existed even if he wasn't Force-sensitive. "Just as he does for combat training."

"I thought he wasn't allowed to join?" Shmi asked with a frown.

Ferox shrugged. "I told the instructors to keep him away, but he always finds a way into the training area. Besides," he continued with a shrug, "it's better he knows how to defend himself if the worst should happen." I nodded in agreement. While Ferox's style of fighting wouldn't suit him, especially once Anakin got a lightsaber, having a sound base was never a bad thing.

"Baalta promised me she'd keep him away," Shmi commented with a sigh and a shake of her head. "I sometimes fear that boy will be the death of me."

I kept thoughts of her canon death from my face. With her here now, beside Ferox, that fate had been averted. "Perhaps then, I might have a way to keep him from those classes and getting into trouble – which he no doubt does daily." Shmi's frown deepened, and I raised a hand. "I'm not asking to take him to the Temple. He will one day be trained, of that I'm certain. However, I feel, for now at least, he benefits more from spending time with his family." The main reason for not taking him to Naboo – Palpatine – was even more prevalent for taking him to the Jedi Temple.

There was also the fact that taking Anakin there would bring him to the attention of the High Council. They would, undoubtedly, be reluctant to let me train him, especially if they learnt his midi-chlorian count was higher than mine. Of course, if I didn't train him, that issue would be null and void. However, the only option I could see beyond me was Qui-Gon, but that needed Obi-Wan to be knighted, which only happened after he killed Maul. Dooku might be an option, but I had the distinct feeling that beyond sharpening up Anakin's lightsaber styles, my former Master had no interest in taking another Padawan.

"For several years now, I've had a droid head and brain in my possession. It belonged to my ancestor and Anakin, along with others, has been helping me design a new frame for the head. Since I plan to attach the head to the frame soon, I wondered if Anakin might wish to be there to see it happen."

"HK?" Shmi asked, making me glance toward the bathroom. "Anakin has talked animatedly about the droid. Particularly the stories the droid told to him, along with Bo-Katan, about its adventures with Revan." Shmi frowned, making me wonder how detailed Anakin had been in his retelling of HK's tales. Though beside her, I saw Ferox lean closer slightly, as if he was curious about these tales. Or perhaps he'd learnt some of my history and wanted to hear about Revan.

"Aye, he's… well, I guess I could say he's a family heirloom at this point," I remarked with a chuckle. "Since I'm a Jedi Knight, I have more leeway in what I can travel with, thus I want him up and around. So to speak." Plus, I wanted him at my side for the invasion, and not just so I could hear his commentary about battledroids. Missing out on that would be something I'd regret for the rest of my life. Along with introducing HK to R2-D2. I found the concept of releasing those two in an unsuspecting galaxy a way to lift even the deepest gloom.

Shmi looked at Ferox, though if she was hoping he'd be against things, she was disappointed when he nodded his support. After sighing she turned back to me, only for the door to the bathroom to open. "Anakin," she said without looking back, "Cameron has something to ask."

Anakin felt like a star going supernova in the Force with how much excitement and energy erupted from him. I knew the Interface diluted my connection to the force, but even with that, I was taken aback at the power that radiated from the young boy. "Anakin," I began once I'd recovered from his presence, "how would you…"

"Yes!" He shouted, cutting me off. "I want to be a Jedi!"

I blinked before shaking my head and laughing. Something I heard Ferox do as well. "No, Anakin. I'm not taking you as my Padawan or to the Temple. At least not yet," I added quickly as his mood fell. "No, what I wanted to ask is if you'd like to come with me to see HK come fully online?"

Any disappointment on his face vanished as I explained myself. "Yes!" He shouted, punctuating his excitement with a jump. Though as he landed, he paused and looked at Shmi. "Um, what about my mother?"

"Once HK's online, and we've put him through his paces," something I knew Bo would take immense pleasure in doing, "I'll bring you back home. I just felt you'd want to be there with Bo and me when HK came online."

He nodded, the smile on his face brightening the entire room. Somehow it grew wider when I mentioned Bo. "Wait… you mean we're going to Mandalore?" I nodded even as I saw Shmi tense. "Wizard!" Anakin jumped again. "I'll go pack." Without waiting, he turned and ran toward his room even as I returned my focus to his mother.

"Will he be safe? I mean, I know their war is over, but from all I've heard it's a dangerous place."

I chuckled. "No more so than many places in the Outer Rim." Ferox nodded in agreement. "Besides, something I've intentionally kept from most is that Bo's father is Duke Adonai Kryze. After the war, he and Duke Torrhen Ordo control the sector, and both consider me an ally."

I was a little surprised that neither had moved to become Mand'alor, as with the defeat of Death Watch – bar whatever Pre Vizsla was able to save – and Duke Varaud, they had the power and influence to claim the title. Perhaps neither felt taking the title was worth the renewed chaos it would bring or had other reasons to not do so. Regardless, I was glad they hadn't as it would place Serra and me in the awkward position of having to choose between the Order and Manda'yaim. I was semi-certain of which way I'd go, but I couldn't be sure of Serra, and wouldn't want her making a choice to please me.

Focusing back on the present, I noted that Ferox seemed interested, and I wondered if he'd want to visit with us. Mandalorians had started returning to the station since the war ended to help train the Lokella and he'd undoubtedly sparred with a few. Honestly, he and Validus would make excellent Mandalorians.

"If it was anyone else, even Ferox, I'd say no," Shmi said slowly, her eyes drifting to Anakin's room. "However, since it's you, and I know Bo-Katan, I… I'm ok with him going."

I smiled and nodded. "If anything, or one tries anything they'll have to get through me and Fenrir first." The mention of the tuk'ata made her lips twitch. "Provided Bo and her father don't declare a crusade first. He would be under the protection of House Kryze and, well let's just say, Mandalorians have a hair-trigger when it comes to protecting family and allies."

"Thank you. It's just," she sighed again and shook her head. "Ever since he was born I've known he was destined for something special. Since we met you, I've known his path isn't one I can walk, but I don't think I'm ready for that day to come. Not quite yet."

"I understand. And I assure you that while I do think I'll be taking him to the Jedi, there is no rush. Most aren't taken until they are ten or older. Even if I don't take him as a Padawan, which I'm not sure Anakin would like," that earned a smile, "I'll keep a close eye on whoever does take him as a Padawan." My eyes glanced down at her belly. "If the Force wills it, and he becomes my Padawan, then I'll do all I can to ensure that not only will he stay in contact, but that we return as time and the Force allow."

"I thought that was against the Jedi rules?"

I nodded at Ferox's question. "It is, but Anakin will be far from a normal Jedi."

"Nor are you," Ferox shot back with a smirk. "You travel with warriors, fight when needed and have a beast that would shame many that I stood beside in the fighting pits." I knew he was trying to reassure Shmi, but it wasn't the best way to phrase things.

"I'll admit the Force has shown a, shall we say, willingness to place me in volatile situations more than most Jedi might encounter in such a short span of time, but I don't feel that will continue." Or I hoped it wouldn't as I didn't want something to come up that forced me to be distracted when I should be on or near Naboo. Afterwards, if the Force had things it wished for me, then so be it. Each adventure I'd had so far, even – as much as I hated to admit it – my time dealing with Komari Vosa and the Bando Gora, had helped shape me for the battles to come and were generally enjoyable.

Shmi smiled, though there was sadness behind it. "Cameron, even I know you have a purpose in this life, one greater than anyone else on the station other than my son," she glanced at Anakin's door, making sure he was still inside before continuing. "One that's tied to…" her words were cut off by Anakin rushing out of his room, a bag almost as large as him being dragged behind. "Anakin," she said with a resigned shake of her head, which had Ferox and me exchange amused smiles.

"We're not leaving this minute, Anakin," I said as he dragged the bag to the table. "Not even today, I suspect. I wish to speak with Master Dooku first, and the Ruling Council. It's past time I used some of the phrik they placed aside for me."

"I'll let Validus know you wish to speak."

I gave Ferox a nod of thanks then turned back to Anakin. "For now, just keep doing your classes and chores. Later, if your mum allows, you can play with Fenrir, though I warn you he's grown more since you last saw him." I held my hand out, lifting it to roughly my height when I stood. Anakin's eyes widened as the last time Fenrir had been here, he'd been at about my neck. Smirking at the boy's reaction, I looked at Ferox. "Provided you promise to only use blunted blades, I think Fenrir's at the stage he can spar with others."

Ferox smiled widely as he accepted the terms with a nod. He and others had been wishing to take on Fenrir in a combat session to see what he was capable of. I'd been reluctant to allow it as Fenrir was still young and growing. Both of those were still true, but I felt he was at, or near, his full height, so wrestling with others would do him some good. I'd just have to remind him to not bite down on anyone and still remain close just in case things got out of hand. While he was gentle around me – most of the time – he wasn't a pet.

… …



… …

I watched patiently as the shuttle from Gaia's surface came into view. I knew Dooku was onboard and could sense his presence as the shuttle – which was a converted light freighter – slipped through the shield holding the atmosphere. While I'd already spoken with him over local comms, I wanted to speak with him in person as this was likely to be the last time I could do so before Naboo was blockaded. There were, I felt, still several months to go as Padmé was still inside her first month as Queen, but I couldn't be sure of that and thus was working on a tight clock.

Time passed as the shuttle touched down, and the ramp descended. If he wished, Dooku could've exited first. To the Lokella, his position was almost as high as mine, yet I knew he wouldn't. For all his stature, grace and belief in superiority, he believed that using that status was pointless in most situations. Thus, I waited as a dozen sentients from a handful of species exited the shuttle. Most moved off toward their station or cabin onboard Mtael's Gift though some were greeted by friends, lovers, and in the case of a Twi'lek, family.

Dooku stepped off the ramp calmly, and even though he was the last to disembark, many still stopped to watch. Some even moved to give him a clear path from the shuttle. I smirked at the little display that proved how highly the Lokella regarded him, enjoying someone else having to endure their respects for once.

At the bottom of the ramp, he turned and looked up at me. Several people around did likewise, and I could sense the awe and delight as they realised that I was present. Dooku lowered his head and moved off as I felt his amusement at transferring the worship to me. I pushed off the railing I was leaning against and sighed. I'd long since accepted the Lokella's feelings toward me – even from those who'd not been present when I'd helped free them – but I'd prefer if they moved past it and simply treated me as a regular visitor to their system.

I moved along the balcony and waited at the steps until Dooku came back into sight. "Master," I said with a respectful bow.

When he was close enough, he placed a hand against my upper arm and offered me, what was for him, a warm smile. "You no longer need to do that, Cameron."

"I will regard you as my Master, even if, one day, I become Grandmaster of the Order, Master," I replied with a smile of my own.

I was caught off guard when Dooku laughed, even more so in that it felt genuine. "If one day, you did become Grandmaster of the Order, I fear what would've befallen the Order that the Council would ask you to lead them." I chuckled, wondering, depending on how my life turned out, I might somehow fill the role that Luke was meant to have after Return of the Jedi. "Now come, tell me why you wished to speak in person."

I lowered my head in acceptance, and as he moved, I turned to walk at his side. "It's about the boy, Master, and other things. Other events." The balcony I'd waited on was a quiet one, rarely frequented by any bar those, like Anakin, who might enjoy watching shuttles and smaller freighters come and go from the bay below.

"Do you intend to take him as your Padawan then?" I glanced at Dooku as we walked. "While you've denied this plan several times, Master Fay and I both sense the connection that exists between you. The Force moves around you enough that even I, someone without interest in visions and prophecy, can see what Masters Nilas and Sifo-Dyas spoke of many years ago. You two share a path through the coming darkness, one I have little doubt you can walk."

I smiled at the compliment and slowed as we neared the end of the balcony. Some people were moving around the corridors nearby and I'd rather the conversation we were having remained private. "I won't deny that I wonder if I should take Anakin as my Padawan, but I don't think either of us is ready for that step currently."

"You may be young in body Cameron, but you are wiser than you appear, more so than even many Knights twice your age. I have no doubt that any you train will grow to become exceptional Jedi, regardless of when you begin their training. That said, if you do eventually take the boy on to train, perhaps you might attempt to curtail his desire to rush headlong into anything he'd set his mind toward."

I chuckled and shook my head. "I fear that is a lesson I'm ill-advised to teach, Master."

Dooku gave a very gentle grunt. "Yes, I suppose that is true. Though I suspect that your tendency to rush in will be tamed by concerns for any Padawan you train. It would be best for both of you if you learnt to take even a brief moment to determine a situation before acting."

"Yes, Master." I looked back at the bay, watching as various droids and crew checked the shuttle and prepped it for its return trip in a few hours. "How goes your time with Vosa?" While I'd rather not discuss someone who darkened my thoughts whenever they were mentioned, avoiding the topic was a worse approach to take. Though I was far from ready to face her once more, even if she was disarmed.

Dooku took some time before replying as if carefully weighing his options. "As well as it can, I believe. Komari will never rejoin the Order, something we both agree upon, but I feel she is nearing a moment where her path will be tested. Still, while I believe she will make the correct decision, I cannot place much trust in that belief."

I nodded, accepting his words. Provided I survived Maul – something that was troubling my thoughts when I slept – I might be ready to speak with Vosa. But not until then.

"Have you felt the shift?" I turned to Dooku, confused by the sudden change in topic. "The darkness Master Nilas and Sifo-Dyas spoke of is growing stronger. I can sense its lingering touch upon you, almost at times as if it might engulf and consume you; extinguishing the light you radiate within the Force."

"Aye, I can sense it," I replied slowly. "Though I'm not entirely sure from where it comes," which wasn't entirely true, "only that a moment, a tipping point, approaches." I looked up at the pipes running along the ceiling of the bay and sighed. "I've seen… new glimpses of something coming. Trade Federation droids marching on fields of green, blades of blue clashing with one of red, a distant, deranged cackle at the very edges of my thoughts. I don't know what they mean, or what they're trying to warn me of, but I know I need to try to, if not stop them, then at least… lessen their impact."

The idea that my existence, and my actions since arriving in this era, might somehow make things worse for Padmé, the Naboo, and the rest of the galaxy was a nagging one. One that grew stronger the closer it got to the invasion. I knew things had changed, that the plans Sidious and Plagueis had placed in motion had altered slightly because of me, yet how those changes would affect others was a complete unknown.

I turned to Dooku, noticing with a hint of surprise I could almost look him eye to eye now, as he placed a hand on my shoulder. "The future, as Master Yoda is fond of saying, is always in motion. Our actions can, at best, cause ripples, but the flow of time and the will of the Force are hard to alter. The glimpses those of us connected to the Force are granted plague our thoughts with worry. However, you must push aside that worry, and place trust in yourself, those around you, and the Force. Even when others say your actions are unwise, if you believe deep within yourself that the path you walk is the correct one, that the actions you've taken are right and just, then you'll find the strength of will to continue on that path." He offered me another smile, one that oddly reminded me of Palpatine's grandfatherly ones. "This darkness around you, one I can feel more clearly as our bond has grown over the years, has become stronger. It does threaten to engulf you, and those close to you. However, I know that when the critical moment comes, you will do what is right. You won't face it alone; this I am sure of even if I suspect I won't be beside you when the time comes. That said, I have little doubt you will prevail and drive back the encroaching darkness."

I smiled and lowered my head. "Thank you for the kind words, Master. I'll be sure to heed them when the moment arrives." As I continued, I felt my smile slip slightly. "Yet, even when I do, I worry for Anakin. In my visions, I see him at my side as the darkness approaches. Yet, I fear bringing him near, as if it might somehow empower the looming threat. He is young and I worry my choices will in some way damage him irrevocably."

Dooku squeezed my shoulder. "Which is why you are concerned about taking him as your Padawan currently." I nodded, confirming his statement. "That is another sign of your wisdom. One far beyond your years. Though again I say I have faith that your training of the boy – be it as his Master or simply as an advisor – will help guide him toward the path the Force wishes him to take." I grimaced as an image of Vader striking down Obi-Wan flashed through my thoughts, making me wonder if I would replace Obi-Wan in that destiny. "And that you will remain on the path the Force has laid out for you, even if, I'm sure, at times you find yourself feeling lost and confused. Just like the boy, you have a significant role to play in countering the darkness that has fallen over the galaxy." He pulled his hand back and took a step away. "Normally, I would be reluctant to say such things to a newly risen Knight, particularly one of your tender years. Yet I know you won't allow ego or pride to interfere with your choices. No more so than any sentient would."

"Thank you, Master." I reached out and grasped his forearm. "For everything you've taught me so far and will certainly continue to teach as the years pass." When I'd first been assigned to him and Fay, I'd felt I would learn more from Fay, that she would be the more important Master. Yet, nearly a decade later, I knew that I had been wrong. While Fay's teachings proved useful, I'd gravitated toward Dooku. More than just from a need to prevent his fall to the Sith or complete the quest linked to that fate. My path had moved from the one Fay walked, coming to lay closer to Dooku's. Though not, I was glad to say, one that led to him rising as Darth Tyrannus.

"And thank you, Cameron, for showing me that the future, no matter how bleak and corrupt the present is, still carries with it hope. For a long time, I believed my actions, my choices, as a Jedi had been for nought. Yet, from teaching and learning from you, I have come to see that I was wrong. My choices matter. Not just those I have taken, but those I will take." His free arm came around and he gripped me just under the shoulder. "Whatever dangers this darkness brings, the Force will be with you, my friend."

… …



… …

"Woo-hoo!" Anakin called out as I pushed Raven down into the atmosphere of Mandalore. Enjoyment and excitement radiated around me as Anakin and Raven both revelled in our rapid descent. As a smile spread over my face, my fingers flew over the controls, controlling Raven's entry even as I sensed her guiding my actions on how to manipulate her power systems. "This ship is so wizard!"

"Aye, she is," I agreed with a chuckle as I flicked the thrusters and Raven rolled on her axis even as we accelerated through the upper clouds of the atmosphere. However, I sensed the moment was over as a light blinked on one console and the sensors detected four fighters closing in rapidly from the north-east. Pressing the relevant control, the holoprojector on the bridge flared to life.

"Unknown vessel, state your purpose or be fired upon."

I grinned at the blunt but effective challenge from the armoured warrior that appeared as a hologram. "This is Alor Cameron Shan aboard the Jade Raven. I'm here on clan business with Alor Adonai Kryze." As I spoke, I sent a file containing my clan and personal sigils along with a secure code the duke had given me to use whenever I returned to the sector. The code had gotten me past the orbital defences – and seeing a few dozen large cruisers patrolling the system was an interesting change since I'd last visited – with ease.

The Mandalorian looked away from me, likely to confirm the file I'd sent. "Alor Cameron, welcome. I will inform Alor Adonai that you will be arriving. Will you require an escort to Keldabe?"

"No thanks. I think I remember the way." The Mandalorian nodded and then clasped one hand to his chest before the signal ended.

"That was cold."

Even as the sensors showed the fighters turning away, I replied to Anakin. "It wasn't. Mandalorians just prefer to get to the heart of a matter without any needless time-wasting and grandstanding. Something I feel the rest of the galaxy would do well to copy." Even as I spoke, Raven banked, turning away from Sundari toward the old, original capital of the planet. I'd hoped he'd not be based in Sundari as the city was linked to the New Mandalorian faction, but I couldn't be sure of that. Plus, the area where the city, and those nearby, was built was nothing but desert. That made it the perfect place to cut loose and let Raven push herself during low-altitude manoeuvres. "Of course, if you think they're cold, I'll have Bo cancel your training sessions."

"Training?" While his tone was cautious, thanks to our bond, I could feel a spike of excitement.

"Well, we came all this way, so what sort of mentor would I be if I didn't let you train alongside some of their young warriors?" His hesitancy fell away as the excitement grew and when I glanced his way, there was a wide smile on his face. "Just don't mention this to your mother, otherwise I'm not sure if she'll let you travel with me again." He nodded so rapidly I feared he'd hurt himself and with a laugh, I turned my full attention back to the controls and the fast-closing white sand of the planet below.

As the desert ended, I pulled Raven back, letting her race mere metres over the tops of the forest that sprang up. I knew leaves would be sent flying, along with animals disturbed by the flyover, but Raven was enjoying herself and I wasn't willing to end that. At least not until Keldabe came into sight. Once it did, I lowered the power to Raven's engines, and as a sense of annoyance filled the cabin, I gently patted the framework, letting her know I understood.

Keldabe appeared much as it had in the past, with the Mandalmotors tower now fully repaired from the damage it had previously sustained. As I circled the city, I noticed activity within the training centre, and the gentle yet persistent alarms reminded me that any attempt to fly over would trigger defensive batteries. It was a change from my time there, but it was one I strongly supported. The flyby also jogged my memory to potentially seek out conversations with Commandant Kraviss and Rangemaster Marod if time permitted.

Keldabe, resembling a neglected factory complex carelessly discarded within a forest, presented an unusual sight. A vast hillfort encircled by a bend in the Kelita River, surrounded by settlements dotting the nearby woodland. Dominating the landscape was the extensive sprawl of Mandalmotors, now repaired from the damage it had taken, with its towering hundred-meter structure acting as a navigational reference. Utilizing the comm mast as a guide for the spaceport, he could precisely align his descent onto the landing strip. This city was Mandalore, characterized by Mandalmotors, a multitude of small engineering workshops, subsistence farms, ore mining, and a profusion of trees. Excluding the unique beskar deposits, the exceptional Mandalorian iron ore, there was little to set the place apart other than its inhabitants.

Eventually, as I neared the landing area on the northern edge of the city, I pulled back further on the power, and gently lowered Raven onto an empty pad; one that had broadcast a signal to me as I reached Keldabe airspace. While there were no permanent landing pads – at least not for most Mando'ade – as a clan chief, I was assigned one by flight control.

Even before Raven's engines had started to cool, Anakin was up and racing for the exit. "Anakin!" I called out just as the cockpit door slid open. "Patience." I laughed as his shoulder slumped. If there was one thing that remained the same, even with all the changes I'd caused, it was Anakin's desire to rush in. While I doubted I could ever break that, even if I wanted to, I was going to try and curb it as much as I could. Even if that only applied to simple situations like this.

With Anakin all but bouncing at my heels, I moved through the ship, finding Fenrir and Simvyl waiting at the landing ramp. The tuk'ata was almost as excited as Anakin, though, for Fenrir, it was a chance to get out of Raven and run around. Still, my attention was on the Cathar, who carried HK's powered-down head in a bag on his back.

"Remember that not only are these Mandalorians not those who butchered your people thousands of years ago, but that you're under my protection. And by extension, that of the Duke's," I said as I looked at him. "Though I'll admit that Bo is a fair example of their lust for battle."

Simvyl gave a firm nod. "I'm aware. And while I'm no stranger to the thrill of the hunt, and know the Massacre is ancient history, I am still uneasy. All Cathar, be they born on our homeworld or not, are told the story of the night the skies rained death. How, under the command of Cassus Fett, scores of Mandalorians on the back of their metal beasts, brought my race to the verge of extinction." He sighed as the ramp descended. "Still, I swore myself to your side, to walk wherever you go. I knew then that you were considered one of them, and have since taken Bo-Katan as a mate," I opened my mouth to remark that Bo wasn't my mate only to stop as not only did he continue, but I realised that he said 'a mate'. "And perhaps I might be able to use some of my distaste to prove that my people are not weak."

I nodded, accepting his words. "OK, but if you ever feel the need, just return to the Raven. No one will think less of you."

A small smile was what I got to confirm he understood me, and I turned to Fenrir as he whined. "Be patient both of you," I muttered as Anakin was, like Fenrir, dancing from side to side as we waited until we could disembark.

The airlock hissed and pulled open, and I was thankful the pair waited, letting me take the lead as we exited. Once outside a group of twelve Mandalorians approached. All were in full armour and armed, though the four in the middle carried their helmets under an arm and had their blasters holstered.

"Alor Adonai," I began lowering my head for a moment, "I hadn't expected you to greet us personally."

Adonai smiled and reached out with a hand. He'd walked with ease, making me all but forget his leg below the knee was artificial. "Alor Cameron. How could I not?" He asked with a wide smile as I grasped his forearm. "You protected my daughter for far longer than I expected you to," behind him and to the left, Bo rolled her eyes though a smile was on her face, "fought beside her in battles of which songs are sung and have been a good and faithful ally to my clan and I." His eyes drifted beyond me. "Though I do admit to being slightly disappointed the Ne'tra Sartr is no longer with you. That said, my daughter says that in all but weaponry, your new vessel outstrips the Sartr."

I laughed as we broke the grasp. "The Raven is a unique vessel, and I believe the Jedi Council are pleased that she lacks the firepower it had. An opinion that I don't share and was hoping that your engineers might have suggestions on how to correct this oversight."

"Aye, I suspect they will. And I'm sure Alor Dred might also have some interest in that project. He spoke well of how you handled negotiations on Zygerria." I lowered my head for a moment, accepting the praise. At that, Adonai turned his eyes on those with me, quickly locking onto Fenrir. "From the tales Bo told, I know this is the mighty Fenrir; a beast bred of battle." I could sense Fenrir's pride and felt the air shift as he shook and stood to his tallest, his head rising above anyone else's. "Though I hadn't realised he was so imposing."

"Tuk'ata, thanks to a connection to the Force, grow faster than other predators. Though he should be close to full height now, so I'm only left waiting for maturity to come." Fenrir flicked his head, smacking his jaw into my ear and making me stumble.

Adonai laughed at the interaction. "And he is as aware as Bo mentioned. A rare thing, and something Alor Torrhen may well be jealous of." Before I could ask about what he meant, Adonai turned to Simvyl. "On behalf of my people, we are honoured to welcome an Antarian Ranger to our world. While few ever pass our way, we respect the vows and dedication your organisation has. And I for one look forward to sparring with you. My daughter has spoken highly of your prowess in combat, something I'm sure has only increased in your time by this one."

"Since your daughter left, things have been relatively quiet."

I bit back a comment about tempting fate as, knowing what was around the corner, I didn't want Simvyl to think Naboo was somehow his fault. Still, his remark drew a chuckle from Adonai.

"Hmm, is that so? Then perhaps you'd be willing to step into a sparring ring and shake off the rust?"

"Perhaps."

Adonai gave Simvyl a nod before looking down at the youngest member of my group. "And who might you be, little one?" He asked with the soft smile of someone used to dealing with kids.

"Anakin Skywalker, future Jedi Knight. Pleased to meet you," Anakin shot back, extending his hand as he spoke with the certainty of youth. I rolled my eyes at his behaviour even as I smiled. I'd told him at least a dozen times a day since we'd left the ShaDo system that I wasn't taking him as a Padawan. However, it seemed every time I spoke, he added a 'yet' to the end of my sentence. Of course, since I'd already taught him some basic Force techniques, and even the basic velocities for Shii-Cho, I could understand why he felt he was a Jedi in all but name.

Adonai shook Anakin's hand as he smiled. "Ah, yes. I've heard your name, but I swore my daughter told me you wished to learn the ways of the Mando'ade?"

"If Cam can be both, then so can I," Anakin replied with certainty and a smile.

Adonai laughed and, after that, ruffled Anakin's hair. The boy's grumble only made Adonai laugh more as he stood and returned his gaze to me. "I believe you remember those with me?"

I nodded and turned my eyes to the trio. Bo and Osto Ordo made sense, though I was a little surprised to see Naz with them. I gave the latter two nods before speaking to Bo. "I hope you're keeping out of trouble?" I asked as I grasped her arm.

Even as she squeezed my arm tighter than needed, she smiled warmly. "That's my line, you utreekov," she shot back without any venom. I pushed away the urge to pull her forward into my arms. Not only would that send the wrong message to her father, but it wasn't something Mandalorians generally did. At least not when involved with another. "How have you been?"

"As Simvyl said, generally it has been a quiet time. Though I did manage to secure the prize we spoke of." I watched as she processed my words, and a wide smile spread over her face.

"Bo!" Anakin's call cut her off from saying anything regarding Serra, which was a good thing as that wasn't a topic for public discussion. I chuckled as Bo slipped from my grasp and fell to a knee, hugging the boy as he slammed into her.

"And here I thought Bo hated children."

The smile was still plastered to my face as I turned to Naz. "Anakin's special," I explained as I grasped Naz's arm. "How have you been?"

Pre Vizsla's daughter smiled warmly at me. "Enjoying some rest now that the war is over. Though I'll admit, even with Bo back, I'm getting twitchy to do something again." As she spoke and broke our grasp, she ran her fingers down my arms. "Do you have any ideas?"

I chuckled as her fingers ran over my hand. Bo had told me that she'd put off the marriage her father wanted, claiming openly and loudly that Kote Wrajud wasn't man enough for her. Since that was the case, Naz was still fair game, and the look Naz was giving me left little doubt as to what she wanted. Still, until I spoke with Bo – and Serra as while she was fine with me renewing things with Bo, Naz was a new variable – I wasn't going to declare any interest.

"If time allows, I'm more than willing to spar," I replied before turning and craning my neck to look up at Osto Ordo. "Osto, it's been some time."

"Aye, though it looks like it's been good to you," Osto replied before clapping me – hard – on the shoulder. "And from what Bo-Katan's told us, you've managed to get yourself out of a few scrapes without needing me to come and save your shebs. Still, I hope you're willing to tell the tale of your duel for a planet. Bo-Katan's telling lacks… flair."

"That's because I wasn't there, you mir'sheb!" Bo shot back, which drew laughter from everyone bar Anakin. I looked down at her to see Anakin staring intently at her gauntlets and caught the smirk dancing on Naz's face as Bo stood and used a hand to keep Anakin at her side.

"I see some things haven't changed," I commented, drawing another round of laughter, and forcing me to slip back and avoid a weak punch from Bo. "Yes, yes, I know. I'll kick your arse in the ring as soon as the adults have finished talking business." Bo glared at me, making me glad she couldn't call on the Force otherwise I suspected I'd have been halfway back to Coruscant by now. I turned my attention to Naz. "Why exactly do you stay around her?"

Naz laughed loudly at that, though before she could reply – or Bo could insult me in some way – Adonai coughed. "While I'm glad you're reconnecting with our people, and would, like the others, enjoy a spar or two, perhaps we might talk somewhere else? I have a cask of ne'tra gal ready as Bo tells me you're here for more than just catching up."

I nodded in agreement but turned to Fenrir. "On you go, but," Fenrir took off, making a beeline for the forest to the north of us. "Stay out of trouble," I finished with a mutter as I watched him race off before turning back to Adonai. "I'm sorry. Fenrir dislikes being stuck on the Raven."

"It's alright. Bo already warned me of this." He turned and nodded to his guard. Two of them stepped away and then took off, their jetpacks carrying them in the direction Fenrir had gone. "They've orders to simply monitor the beast and ensure he doesn't threaten any vheh'yaim that dwell in the forest and ensure that none try to hunt him."

"My thanks." I was glad of that, as while I knew Fenrir would avoid the dwellings, there was still a chance he might run into a Mandalorian who'd think him a worthy kill. At least until Fenrir ripped a limb off. Adonai turned and I fell into step beside him. "While I'm here, if it's possible, I'd like Anakin to get some basic combat training. Nothing major, and certainly not something his mother could complain about. But he lives with the Lokella, and I'd feel better if he knew something extra."

Adonai nodded. "That can be arranged, and I suspect my daughter will wish to oversee it personally," I nodded in agreement even as he glanced over his shoulder to where I could hear Anakin peppering Bo with questions about her gauntlet. Adonai leaned closer. "The boy is the first I've seen her show concern about since Korkie's death," he whispered, though before I could respond, he continued at a normal volume. "When I was first told you wished to construct a droid, I was confused as I was led to believe that Jedi were as against them as we are. However, after Bo revealed some details of this droid of yours, I admit to being curious to meet it, and the engineers I've brought in are loyal to my or Alor Torrhen's houses."

"Thanks, though, can you arrange for some workers to enter my ship? I've got two crates of refined phrik inside that I wish to use in the construction."

Adonai's brow rose, though he accepted my words and tapped away at his gauntlet a moment later. "I, along with others, look forward to meeting this droid once he's built. Until then, you must regale us with your duel for a planet." I sighed at being reminded of that, which drew a loud laugh from him. "We've heard Bo's telling of it, but as she wasn't there, details were spare. Once you've done that, I and others will no doubt regale you with tales from the war."

… …



… …

I rolled first one shoulder and then the other. Having full armour on them again was a calming experience, though the difference between this armour and the one I'd worn at the Institute was that this armour was mine. Like other Mandalorian armour, it didn't cover every part of me, nor was I wearing a beskar-infused underweave as this was simply a fitting session to ensure everything was sized correctly. If it wasn't, the Mandalorian armourers would be able to alter it, though how they did that was something even someone of Adonai's rank didn't know. The armourers and metalsmiths who worked with beskar guarded their secrets violently and jealously.

As I moved my arms, my eyes once again took in the simple black colouring that had been applied to the armour. While the Jedi Council wouldn't like the fact that I was wearing armour, or approve of the colour, I felt better with it on. Jedi had worn armour at times in the past, and while Sith tended to predominantly wear black, it wasn't a colour exclusive to their Order and to the Mandalorians, use of it on armour, if one placed focus on that, implied the pursuit of justice. Something the Jedi couldn't complain about.

I took the helmet from the armourer staring into the blood red visor, this the Jedi may be able to complain about, before lifting it and placing it on my head. It hissed as the seals engaged and the internal HUD powered up. Amusingly, it was familiar with elements that reminded me of what my Interface used and some that shared links with the more advanced tactical gear I'd trained with in my former life. I looked around the room, getting used to the HUD displaying information about anything I focused on, though not in a way that would distract me if I was in combat.

"There, now you look like a true Mando'ade in their beskar'gam, Alor Cameron." The comment came from the armourer helping me with this fitting. She wore a wide smile, as did Bo and Naz who were standing back. Bo's eyes seemed alive as they scanned me in my armour and the HUD detected an increase in her heart rate as she took in the sight of me in full armour. Naz was more restrained in watching me, but from the HUD's information, I could tell she liked what she saw as well. "You are free to alter the base colour, or apply accents as you wish, but this one," the armourer gestured at Bo, "felt you would approve of the scheme."

After removing the helmet, I replied to the armourer. "You've done an excellent job, vor entye," I said with a small lowering of my head. "There doesn't appear to be any section that requires reshaping."

Though I knew I still had to collect my underweave. That would be going under my Jedi robes so that even when I wasn't wearing full armour – such as when I was within the Temple – I'd still have some protection. Not that the underweave would hold up to a concerted attack against it by a lightsaber. The thin mesh nature of it lowered the effectiveness of the beskar to the point it could be breached, though such things were unlikely to happen in places where I'd be without the armour.

"Did you think I'd not know your measurements?" Bo asked with a half-hearted huff. She pushed off the wall she was leaning against and let her eyes wander over my armoured form once again. Without the underweave currently on, I was wearing something just as skin-tight, which it appeared Bo and Naz approved off.

"No, I think you had more than ample time to learn them," I shot back with a smirk and let my eyes wander her frame. She was in armour, but I knew what she looked like out of it and her underweave, and the best places to touch her to bend her to my will. Bo chuckled at my look which earned her an unsubtle elbow telling her to knock it off from Naz.

That gesture drew my attention to the blond. While I didn't know exactly what she looked like under her gear, I could make more than a fair guess. Both from how snuggly the underweave fit her, and comments Bo had made during our quieter moments against the pillows.

"I am glad my work meets your standards," the armourer responded without any hint of sarcasm. "All that is required now is a listing of how you wish to add to the kom'rk and other sections of the armour." She pointed to a console five metres to my right. "This system can help you make decisions based on your preferences and visualise how they might be added. Once that is completed, I suspect your friends will take you to a training facility. While you wear the armour well, you must still learn to adapt it to your fighting style. Something no Jetii has done in many centuries."

"Vor entye," I said again in thanks and moved to the console she suggested.

As I walked, Bo and Naz moved closer, and my mind drifted for a moment to the welcoming feast/party yesterday that had erupted in Keldabe for my return. The biggest shock hadn't been the number of warriors inside the Oyu'baat cantina that wished to drink with me or hear the stories of my adventures. That honour had been when Satine had walked in beside her and Bo's brother dressed in armour. Now, she wasn't wearing full armour like many others, instead choosing just the gauntlets and chest-piece, but the sight of her in any armour was a surprise. As was the cordial way she and Bo greeted each other.

As the night wore on, I'd learnt that Adonai had been correct in that his family would be targeted, though Dooku had arranged for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to protect Satine. That event must've been where Obi-Wan and Satine first met, though it seemed here at least, their time together only lasted a few months before Adonai had her recalled to Mandalore. While she still advocated for peace, she eventually accepted that the way of the New Mandalorians wouldn't work, something I had to use Observe to confirm as hearing those words from her mouth resulted in me coughing up my ne'tra gal. Something Bo and others had laughed loudly at.

From talking to her more, the defining moment in her realisation had been when Death Watch launched another attack on Sundari. The guards – or at least those still following the New Mandalorian ideals – had been slaughtered and Satine had been forced to take up a blaster to defend herself and the school at which she'd been working. Her defence of the children, including killing two and wounding another member of the Death Watch cult had broken the last barriers between her and her family, and while she was still reluctant to attempt her verd'goten – something easy to see as she lacked a personal sigil on her armour – Bo had moved to fully restore what she once had with her sister. Or at least, that's what I got from the way the two moved acceptingly around each other. There was still some tension, but nothing that felt like it wouldn't eventually dissipate with time and effort.

I'd also discovered that Satine would soon be returning to Coruscant, to take up a position as senior aide to the sector's current representative in the Senate. None in the cantina referred to that person as the Senator as it was clear that even now, eight hundred years later, they bristled at being under the yoke of the Senate. However, from a quiet moment with Adonai this morning, I'd learnt that he understood that they couldn't break from the Republic and expect anything but another Dral'Han to occur. I had inquired why neither he nor Torrhen hadn't moved to become Mand'alor, but he'd not given a clear answer on the matter.

"What will you choose?" Naz asked as she and Bo approached me at the weapons console.

I shrugged. "Not sure ye…" I was cut off as the doors to the room hissed open and in rushed a familiar blonde-haired boy.

"Whoa! Cool!" Anakin muttered as he took in the sight of the workshop. His eyes found me quickly and widened dramatically as he saw my armour.

"When you're older, though full beskar would be after a verd'goten," I said before he could ask when he'd get his own set of armour. Beside me, I heard Bo chuckle. Probably at how sure I was Anakin would follow me into becoming Mando'ade.

I turned from the console to answer. "We've already gone over this," Bo commented with a sigh. "One last time. The verd'goten is the rite of passage during which an adiik – a child – carries out a hunt. Afterwards, they become mando'ade." I looked at Bo as she again explained the terms patiently. Beside her, Naz watched with a tender look in her eyes.

Bo stepped away from us and knelt to look Anakin in the eye. "In our culture, when a child reaches thirteen, they are taken by a relative or mentor to another world. There, armed with nothing more than a knife, a survival pack and your wits you must endure whatever the planet you're on throws at you. The trial is completed once you've killed a predator of some form. It must, either alone or in groups, be a threat to your life."

"So a bantha wouldn't count?"

Bo, Naz, and I all chuckled at the image of someone killing a bantha in an attempt to become a Mandalorian.

"No, it wouldn't," Bo replied after muttering something under her breath. She tapped the left chest of her armour. "This sigil here is from my hunt when I killed a furred blood owl." Anakin's lips twitched at the animal's name, though Bo didn't snark at him as she'd done at Serra and me. In fairness, I had looked that up and discovered it wasn't anywhere near as simple as its name suggested. The damn thing was about as long as Bo was tall and its claws could carry off, in theory, a bantha calf or similar-sized animal.

Bo then pointed at Naz. "She killed a nightshrike while Cam…" She paused as Anakin's eyes widened as he saw the sigil I bore.

"That's why you fought a krayt dragon!" He blurted and I laughed.

"Greater krayt dragon actually," I replied casually, long used to reactions like this when people heard about my verd'goten. "My hunt was why I was on Tatooine, and at the end of it, when I first sensed you through the Force."

Anakin smiled, happy about the change in his fate because of my hunt – which may well make him more certain he wanted to attempt the hunt when he was old enough – only for a frown to form on his face. "Why is your armour just black while theirs have more colours?"

"Every mando'ade has a base ideal they hold true," Bo began, once more explaining Mandalorian customs to Anakin. Before she'd returned home, she'd mentioned adopting him into Clan Kryze. I still feel she wasn't entirely serious, but that feeling was slowly disappearing the more I watched her be a mentor and teacher to the boy. "My armour has a base of grey as a reminder of my mother. Naz chose green as she is remarkably loyal to those she cares for." Beside me, I felt pride and care emanate from Naz. "Both of us chose red as a primary accent to honour our parents and ancestors. As for Cam, as he said, black signifies justice." Bo turned and looked at me, a knowing smile on her face. "As much as he might deny it, he has a keen sense of what is right and wrong and of what needs to be done. He's not afraid to do that, regardless of how others might react to his choices. The accents are up to him."

"If I have any, green is the most likely. At least as a primary." I chuckled and shook my head as I looked at my new and improved gauntlets. "As suitable as the idea of red as an accent might be, I'm unsure how the Jedi Council would react to having me walk into the Temple in armour with that as the secondary colour.

"I'd pay to see their faces if you did," Naz commented, which drew a laugh from Bo.

"Regardless, there's no need to add accents currently. From what I remember, they are often added over time as a warrior grows and changes."

"Aye. And then there's those who stick to a single colour for reasons other than tradition," Naz said with a smile. "I have an uncle whose armour is just orange. And I mean bright, burnt orange. While he enjoys life, he told me once that he made it so simply to distract his opponent has armour that colour simply to disorientate an opponent."

I shook my head, imagining the Mandalorian equivalent of a giant orange. "Yeah, that would make me pause before engaging him. Force, regardless of where on the battlefield I was, that would be a distraction." The three smiled in agreement even as I turned back to the console. "Now, while I'm sure Anakin has questions galore about armour design and colouration, I have to finish up here. Do either of you lovely ladies have suggestions for what I should equip my armour with?"

… …



… …

That evening, after spending the afternoon testing out my new armour, getting used to how to move in it, and using the tools that were part of it, I was in my assigned quarters going over the design for HK. The phrik that I'd brought with me was with Adonai's technicians, and they'd already told me it would take a day or two to shape the alloy how I wanted. While beskar would have been my personal preference because it could be more easily incorporated into the delicate parts of his structure Phrik may be better because it was just slightly more durable.

Beskar and phrik could both resist lightsabers and tank concentrated blaster fire, even taking turbolaser fire, phrik generally dealt with it just a bit better.

The way the quest linked to getting him online – Rebuilding a Hunter-Killer: Part 1 – hinted at a follow-up quest, which I suspected was to do with upgrading HK's software and hardware. Though I couldn't be certain of that.

My eyes drifted over to my armour trailing the gleaming black surface, resting momentarily on the weapons and the small glinting cold that held the dragon skin cloak closed before stopping to stare into the blood red visor. I'd taken it off after returning to my quarters after dinner. There, Adonai had explained slightly why he wasn't making a play to become Mand'alor. He felt he was too old to take on the load when he was already burdened with so much work to risk taking on the challenge of becoming the leader of his people. Since the sector was recovering from another civil war, I could understand some of his logic, but it felt like a very flimsy excuse. However, it was his to make and one I respected, though I just hoped someone else – my thoughts focused on Pre Vizsla – didn't attempt to make a play for the title. That though, was a matter for the future, for now, my thoughts – if they weren't focused on HK – drifted to Naboo and the invasion.

The armour I had was solid, however, something about it felt off. Since I was working on a tight clock, I wasn't going to have it redesigned now, but provided I survived Naboo, I'd return to Mandalore and have it re-shaped into something closer to what I wanted. I might even have accent colours added, though for now the dark base colour was fine and when worn under my robes and dragon hide cloak, wasn't too intimidating. Or at least I felt they weren't, though I was sure certain members of the Jedi Order would still find an issue with me wearing armour.

A beep from my door drew my attention and with a simple gesture, I used the Force to open the door. As it slid back, I saw Bo and Naz enter, wearing nothing but their underweave. My eyes were naturally drawn to the familiar lines of Bo's form and the new, tempting ones of Naz.

Bo had already spent the previous night in my quarters, having dragged me away from the feast after Anakin had crashed. The boy had insisted on drinking ale like the rest of us, and while he lasted longer than I'd expected, he'd still passed out barely an hour after the feast began. After I'd returned, Bo had not let me sit before dragging me away. Frankly, while I'd enjoyed the feast, I'd pass on a feast every day for the night I'd enjoyed with Bo, so seeing her here was a pleasant surprise, as was Naz whose eyes were already undressing me.

"Lady Bo-Katan, Lady Naz, how may I help you tonight?" I asked as Bo stalked toward me. Her face twitched in annoyance at me calling her a 'Lady' but until the day came when she beat me in a spar, I wasn't going to stop. And frankly, I suspected she liked it when I did as it gave her an excuse to start something with me. Not that I felt she needed an excuse as she was always welcome in my bed.

"Stop that!" she snarled as she grabbed my robes and pushed them back, exposing the tunic I was wearing underneath while appearing to trap my arms against my side. Her lips crashed against mine, letting me catch the hints of alcohol on them, but before I could return the kiss, she pulled back. "And yes, I want something," she said with a smirk, "though I'm not the only one."

I looked past her at Naz. The blonde had stayed near the door, though the way she nibbled her lip and watched Bo as she settled next to me, made clear what she wanted. "And how might I be of service, Lady Naz?" I asked teasingly, which earned me a less-than-gentle elbow to my ribs from Bo.

Naz moved forward, completely certain, "You, I want you."

I smirked, letting my eyes wander over her frame again. That brought out her desire even more, pushing the concern I felt from her back. "And what of Kote Wrajud?" Honestly, at this point, with Bo's hands already teasing my leg, I doubted I'd care enough to not take Naz. However, it would be better to hear from Naz's lips that she wanted me over him.

"I don't want him. My father agreed, and the betrothal was cancelled." My brow rose at hearing that. Pre not securing Clan Wrajud was an odd move as the clan chief was a firm Death Watch supporter. Either Clan Wrajud had fallen on hard times after the civil war, or Naz had found a way to convince Pre to end the arrangement. Regardless, I knew Pre would hate that his only daughter was here tonight, which made taking her even more appealing. "What I want is in front of me."

I stood, sliding from Bo's grasp with an ease she'd never shown before. "Then who am I to deny your desire," I said as I moved toward Naz.

My lips found hers with ease, and she submitted to me with a moan as my hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her against me. As her hands came to my arms I felt Bo's breath on my ear.

"Prove to her that my tales of your prowess are true," the redhead whispered as I felt one of her hands slide into my belt. "Take us until neither can nor wants to walk from your room tomorrow."

I nibbled Naz's jaw even as her fingers tore apart my tunic. If the ladies wished to be ravished, I was more than willing to do so. Hopefully, Adonai would understand why I missed our meeting about my need for fighters for an upcoming battle and the state of the sector tomorrow morning.

… …



… …

Even though every simulation – all two thousand of them – had confirmed that if we reached this point in the procedure, nothing would go wrong, it still didn't make me any less nervous. The power levels through the combat frame were slowly climbing as all basic systems came online for the first time. It was taking forever for the levels to rise, but that was by intention as I didn't want to risk HK's core if there was an issue from a power surge.

"Why is it taking so long?" Anakin whined from behind me, however, I didn't reply. My focus remained fixed on the readings in front of me. Each servo and motor in the frame that came online and reported back green was another small step toward the final goal. Though until everything was online and working within expected parameters, I wouldn't consider this a success. Hell, until I saw HK in combat, I'd likely retain worries that something was wrong.

"Cam's just being extra careful," Bo replied in the same gentler – for her – tone she always used with Anakin. Several people had commented on her behaviour around the boy, and while Naz and I could handle Bo's aggression that evening, anyone else was challenged to a duel. Even her father and brother weren't immune to the challenge, though they, like me, laughed off her behaviour.

As much as Bo wasn't the mothering type, she did have a soft spot for Anakin, and I couldn't deny the idea of seeing her raise our child hadn't flashed through my thoughts several times over the last day. Nor the idea of Naz and Serra also having children. Yet even though the pair had spoken via the Holonet, and Serra was accepting of my bedding Naz – and no denying Bo's suggestions that she wanted to join us – any thought of children was for the future. Possibly even after the Clone Wars, or whatever replaced them if my actions so far and to come had a great enough effect to alter events that much.

"But it's soooo slow." I couldn't help but smirk at Anakin's whine. While he had a good head on his shoulders and was smarter in some ways than many adults, he was still a child and hearing him behave like others his age was oddly refreshing. Though that didn't mean I wanted to tolerate it and made a note for Simvyl to take Anakin for a training session.

It had only been a few days since we'd arrived, but Simvyl was settling in easily enough. Most of that was because many knew of him from Bo's war stories of our time on Zonama Sekot. Though some came from the few spars he'd engaged in. While, from what I'd heard, he'd lost more than he'd won, the fact he was willing to step up to the plate and didn't hold back earned him the respect of many. Yet the biggest thing that helped him, and something that caught us both unawares, was the reveal of a clan of Cathar who followed the Resol'nare.

They weren't a major clan, numbering only a few dozen strong, but they were part of House Ordo and having some of his species here helped Simvyl settle. Even if he was still processing the idea that Cathar would choose to follow the ways of the Mando'ade.

It also ensured he didn't spend all his time on Raven. While I was reluctant to allow many onboard, Adonai had reached out to Dred Yomaget and between them created a small team of six to examine the mechanical sections of my ship and consider how she might be upgraded. So far, things weren't looking good in arming Raven as it might well mean cutting through her skin; the engineers just as reluctant as me to do. To them, she was a marvel of engineering that shouldn't be butchered simply to make her combat ready while I fretted over how much pain it would cause her.

"All work takes time and completing something as worthy as rebuilding the akaan beskar'ad of Naast be Me'suums, requires as much time as it takes." I grinned, wondering how HK would feel at the name the Mandalorians had given him.

"What of the what?" I resisted the urge to shake my head. Anakin, like any child, had to know what was going on, but the more he asked, the less he knew and the more questions he asked.

My grin grew as Bo exhaled loudly and I knew she was shaking her head at Anakin's curiosity. "The war droid of Revan." She spoke slowly in a tone I recognized as a sign she was getting annoyed.

"Anakin," I said just loud enough that my voice would carry to him so as to not distract the technicians around the room who were monitoring specific aspects of the process. "If you keep asking questions, I'll send you back to the Raven and return you to your mother before the day is over."

"Oh… Okay."

I wouldn't actually do that, but Anakin couldn't be sure, and thus as the power climbed over ninety-five per cent, I was greeted by silence. At least if I ignored the various sounds of the lab and the whispered tones of the handful of technicians on-hand.

Time seemed to slow as the levels rose in each section of the frame, dragging the overall readings ever upward. As the readings passed ninety-nine per cent, no warnings sounded, and I exhaled in relief. A moment later the yellow visual receptors of the droid head flickered to life, and I took a step back from the console, wanting to watch the rebirth of HK-47.

He sat up slowly, and I offered a silent thanks to the Force that there wasn't any sound of creaking. Even if I and others had gone over the plans with a pico-metre thick comb, that didn't entirely reassure me that what I was watching would occur.

HK raised his arms and turned them over in front of his receptors. Each finger was closed and opened independently, and then the joints at the wrist, elbow and shoulder were tested. He turned and repeated the process with his legs before hopping from the table and standing tall. The body and head had been coated in phrik which had been altered to as close to the original shade of his last frame.

His receptors flickered as he turned to me. "Query: Master?"

"How do you feel?" I asked with a smile, taking in the physical sight of one of my two favourite droids.

"Indignation: I am a droid, Master, not a squishy meatbag. I do not feel anything." I shook my head, amused at the half-expected response. HK's optical receptors flickered as his brain carried out an untold number of calculations within a second making sure his internal circuitry was working correctly. "Statement: This new frame is working within acceptable parameters. Addendum: there is much room for enhancement."

"I would expect nothing less," I said with a smirk. "What about the new inbuilt ordinance? Are they working as expected?"

HK lifted an arm, and I watched as part of the forearm slid back, exposing a high-powered, though low-rate, blaster cannon. He rotated the arm and checked other things internally before the cannon slid back into the arm. He repeated the process with the other arm, though that exposed a flame thrower, one that while it sparked, didn't ignite. That was because I'd kept the fuel out of the initial activation. Slots on his thighs were exposed, though both were empty as HK had wanted them left free for him to adapt for specific missions, a finger glowed as the laser in it flickered, a vibroblade flashed out from each wrist and a low whine was emitted as he tested the inbuilt sonic weaponry on low.

"Affirmative: Yes, Master. All hidden compartments activate with acceptable speed and scanner inhibitors report no faults." Those inhibitors would hide his hidden weaponry from all but the most invasive of scans. Something only places like the Senate building used, and even then, only in certain locations. "Observation: While my programming has already developed thirty-seven thousand, eight hundred and ninety-three possible layout combinations, I require target practice to determine which would be the most suitable for various scenarios. Suggestion: Perhaps one of these pathetic meatbags is willing to volunteer to help with my calibrations?"

I laughed and shook my head. "No, HK they're not. While I know you dislike most organics, you should be nicer to the ones in this room. Without their help designing, forging and constructing your new frame, you'd have remained nothing more than a head for some time to come."

HK turned, taking in each technician in the room. I suspected he was placing their images on a file for those to avoid killing; or at least, to avoid killing in any way but quickly. He turned back to me, though I felt his gaze was on Bo, Anakin and Naz more so than me. "Agreement: Yes, Master. I shall ensure that those responsible for this new frame, as barely acceptable as it is, are afforded as much respect as I can muster for meatbags."

A few of the technicians seemed to tense, hands drifting toward their blasters, but not drawing them. HK was a law unto himself and to Mandalorians, the way he talked could easily be seen as a threat. Even when he was trying to be civil.

I shifted my focus from HK to them. "You'll have to forgive HK. What he lacks in social niceties, he more than makes up for in combat proficiency. Haran, I'd go so far as to call him murder-happy, but he doesn't have feelings."

"Agreement: Yes, Master. I am superior to all meatbags and their inability to think without using feelings. Clarification: Outside of yourself, Master, and the Creator."

"That's not nice!" Anakin yelled out as he came to my side. I shook my head, surprised that even now, after having spent time around HK over the last few years, he could still be caught out by the droid's bluntness. Behind me, I could sense Bo and Naz's amusement at HK's antics. I didn't know how Naz felt about droids, but Bo disliked them as much as HK disliked organics. Only I, and their shared love of weapons, combat and violence allowed them to find common ground.

"Commentary: I am a droid, little meatbag. I wasn't programmed to be 'nice'."

"HK," I said, cutting off Anakin from retorting. "As you well know, Anakin was one of those who helped design your new frame. Some of his suggestions generated unexpected but significant improvements in your efficiency."

HK's receptors flickered. "Clarification: What I meant, little meatbag, was that I'm not nice to those my Master doesn't wish me to be nice to. Otherwise, I can be very agreeable."

"Anyway," I began as I shook my head at HK and what his definition of agreeable might be, "what are your self-diagnostics reporting about the new frame and programming?"

"Answer: The frame is working at eighty-nine-point four-five per cent of optimal efficiency. However, my combat matrices require calibration for the new frame, and potential updating for weaponry specifications of this era. Clarification: While the various manuals and technical documents have been uploaded, there are always discrepancies between those and what a given weapon is capable of. Addendum: In time, once calibrations are complete, I look forward to testing myself against the Jedi of this era, and of replaying the look of shock upon their faces when their beloved weapons fail moments before I extinguish their pathetic lives."

I chuckled. "So, you're fine with the phrik? I was thinking that in time, we might develop a superior frame, one composed of both phrik and beskar."

"Commentary: Would not the meatbags known as Mandalorians feel slighted by using the alloy they worship in a droid's frame?"

"They might," I replied quickly as I sensed Bo and Naz – along with the technicians still present – bristle at HK's words. "But we can see. I don't have my ancestor's flair for creation, at least not with droids, so I'm simply placing on the table the option to upgrade the frame if you ever wish to. And, no doubt, Anakin and Bo will have suggestions for the hardware and software that might hold some appeal."

"Agreement: That is a very wise course of action, Master. Advisory: However, without extensive examination of this frame, in true combat, I could not offer a decision on the offer."

"Understandable." I looked down at Anakin, whose eyes seemed to have lit up at the idea of improving HK, which was both heartening and – at least for my enemies – terrifying. "Still, it's time to shake off the rust, so to speak. Three thousand years is a long time to let your skills degrade, no doubt to the point of a child's."

"Commentary: Oh, you are a cruel master, Master. I believe I'm going to enjoy fighting by your side."

I held back a comment on the status of combat droids in this era. I didn't want to ruin the fun of hearing HK's critiques of the Trade Federation's B1s when we got to Naboo. He'd already expressed some displeasure with them from Holonet recordings he'd viewed but seeing them in a recording was worlds away from facing – and slaughtering – them on a battlefield.

Thus, I turned and moved toward the door. HK fell into step behind, I could imagine he wasn't thrilled about the fact, for now, he wasn't carrying a blaster. Though as I exited the room, with him and the others in tow, I knew that issue would be quickly rectified. As we walked, I opened and closed Rebuilding a Hunter-Killer: Part 1, noting that I'd received 1375XP. I'd made the first hidden objective of getting Mechanics [Droids] to Master:25, though the others – for reaching Master:50, Master:75, and Savant:1 – hadn't been reached. Still, it was another small step on the way to level 30 – I was about 15000xp short – and the final system upgrade.

… …



… …

A soft, continual beeping pulled me from my dreams and felt a gentle change in the Force, which had me shifting in my bed. Or tried to, because, as my thoughts aligned themselves, I remembered that once more Bo and Naz had joined me last night and both were laying either side – and in the case of an arm from Bo and a leg from Naz – over me currently.

Using the Force and slow, careful movement, I extracted myself from my warm and tempting position and slid from the bed. Naz groaned, seemingly realising I wasn't there. I smirked as she shuffled over in her sleep until she was pressed up against her friend and lover before turning. The floor was, as usual, covered in various sections of clothing with their armour resting on a table at the far side of the room beside the stand holding mine. While the pair were ravenous in bed, they didn't simply toss off their armour in the desire to join me in bed, which was a relief as the chance of standing on the controls of a vambrace and setting off the inbuilt weaponry would be fucking embarrassing to deal with when medics and security turned up.

I was glad the floor was covered in carpet and the room warm as otherwise I might well have used Silence to ensure I could ignore the attempted communication. At least if the Force wasn't shifting, hinting that something was happening.

I pulled my helmet on, ensuring I and whoever was calling me wouldn't wake my lovers. "Yes?" I asked as the channel opened.

"Cameron," came Simvyl's voice, through the earpiece, "we've got an incoming priority signal from Coruscant. Should I route it to you now?" He sounded more awake than me, but that was probably because the call had come into Raven first and he'd had to wake before calling me.

"Go ahead," I replied, glad the signal was being routed into the helmet. Whoever was calling wouldn't see the state of my quarters or the two naked beauties behind me. It was unlikely to be my publisher, as from the initial report they'd sent, the first book of the Knights of the Old Republic Trilogy, The Dark Times, would cover everything from the game up until facing Darth Bandon, which for this was taking place in the Shadowlands of Kask…

My thoughts were cut off as the HUD displayed an image of Palpatine. "Cameron, I do hope I haven't caught you at an inopportune time," he said. All he'd see was my face, which no doubt showed my shock at his call.

"No, I was not far from waking anyway," I replied with a half-truth. It was only an hour from sun-up, but since I was sure we'd only gone to sleep a few hours ago, I'd planned to enjoy a lay-in, and then – I hoped – a repeat of last night's events. "Has something happened regarding our mutual concern?"

"No, no. There's been little movement on that matter." Palpatine paused and, for once, looked every bit his age. "The matter I'm calling regarding is perhaps graver, at least to me." I inhaled, wondering if this was the starter's gun. "You remember the summit on Eriadu?

"As much as I'd rather not, yes." I still had moments where I replayed the event of Eriadu, wondering if my hesitation to act might have been driven by a desire to ensure, as bad as it sounded, events happened how I expected for Naboo. "Has Viceroy Gunray been brought in for questioning?"

Palpatine sighed and slumped. "As much as that would be ideal, he hasn't. It seems that the Viceroy has reacted worse than expected to the taxation of the Outer Rim, and seemingly in a move to punish me for supporting the Chancellor's call for a summit on Eriadu, blockaded Naboo."

"Is that legal?" I asked, only to pause and fight the urge to laugh. Of all the lines I'd pull out, it just had to be that one.

Thankfully, Palpatine didn't see or sense my hesitation after speaking. "No, it certainly is not. The matter is now with the Senate, but with the Chancellor mired in allegations of corruption, it will take years, at a minimum, before any decision is reached regarding the blockade."

"If not longer with the Trade Federation and their allies in the Senate actively hindering investigations," I suggested, which earned a nod from Palpatine.

"Indeed. As I fear for my people and the new Queen," I knew he was playing on my friendship with Padmé there, but in his place, I'd do the same, "I'm reaching out for help wherever I can."

I nodded, showing my understanding. Yes, he had ensured Naboo was the target, but I wasn't meant to know that. "I'll do what I can. What of the Jedi Council? Can they intervene on humanitarian grounds?" Even as I asked that, I knew they'd do fuck all to help. But it gave me time to run through the checklist I kept in my mind about what I needed to do. If there was time, I could try and head to Naboo directly and confront Gunray. I'd be massively overstepping my bounds as a Jedi, and lead to the High Council censoring me – at a minimum – but it would save the planet.

"Master Yoda expressed his sympathy, but I was informed that they wouldn't act in an official capacity until the Senate asked them to." I snorted, making clear my dislike of that response, which brought a small smile to Palpatine's face for a moment. "I'm sorry for asking for your help, but I have little other option."

"It's fine, uncle," I replied, playing on the bond we shared. "If you want, I could head to Naboo and speak with the Viceroy?" I offered, adding enough inflexion to 'speak' that he'd understand my meaning.

"No, no. I fear such a bold move would only make things worse for everyone." That did make sense, even ignoring his role in ensuring the blockade happened. Still, it was an offer I had to make to hint I was more proactive than other Jedi. Now, if given a choice, I'd have happily led a strike team with the purpose of capturing Gunray before the invasion took place, or possibly just after, but while I considered Bo, Naz and others good fighters, they weren't on the level to pull off a mission like that. Hell, I wasn't sure I was. Not with Maul floating around the edges of the picture. "While I'm glad to have your support, I'm not willing to risk your life in such a fool-hardly move."

"Then what do you suggest?" I asked even as I sent a message to Simvyl to ready Raven for flight.

Palpatine took a moment, seemingly considering the matter though I had little doubt he already knew what he wanted me to do. "Return to Coruscant. In the time it will take you to get here, I can make other moves and see what our options are. If nothing exists, then I may well accompany you to Naboo. Combined, we might be able to sway the Viceroy's hand before the blockade turns into something worse."

"Of course, Senator. I'll send a message to your office once I'm underway. If I push the engines on Raven, I should be there within two days."

Palpatine sighed and seemed to find some energy again. "Thank you, my friend. I… When you arrive, head straight for the Senate. I'll ensure you have priority clearance. Thank you."

I smiled in support before closing the channel. Once it was closed, I considered how I could change events. Ideally, I could get assigned the mission instead of Qui-Gon. Beyond completing the quest to keep him alive past the invasion, being there could help move things in different ways that might unintentionally disrupt Sidious' plans. Still, any plan would have to wait until I returned to the capital of the Republic, and pulled off the helmet.

"What's happening?"

I tensed, caught unaware by Bo's voice. After placing my helmet on the table, I turned to see she and Naz were both awake, though Naz looked inclined to drift back to sleep. "You remember how I mentioned needing my armour and HK for the darkness I sensed?" Bo nodded while Naz blinked trying to clear the cobwebs of sleep. "I fear it's arriving earlier than I expected. Naboo, a planet in the Chommell sector, has been blockaded by the Trade Federation. The Senator, who I consider somewhat of a friend, is asking for help."

Bo was stationary for a second before she slid off the bed and stood, entirely unconcerned by her nakedness. Or mine it seemed. In my haste to answer the call, I'd forgotten to slip on even my robes. That made me extremely glad I'd used the helmet to take the call. "We'd better speak with my father," Bo started as she reached down for her underweave. "If you're going to war, House Kryze will ride with you."

I smiled in thanks and moved to find my clothing.

"I'm coming too," Naz added as she pulled herself over the bed. Though the statement was undercut by a long, loud yawn that slipped from her lips.

I nodded to her even as I pulled on my trousers. However, my mind was on Anakin. As much as he'd want to, I wasn't taking him to Coruscant. Not when I was heading directly to Palpatine. I couldn't leave him on Mandalore, as he'd likely find a way to sneak on board any ship Bo was on, claiming he wanted to help. As much as she'd scoff at me for saying so, she had a soft spot for the boy and would have no issue with bringing him along in a support role. Yet, knowing Anakin, and his insane luck, he'd find a way to be critical to the upcoming battle. To ensure that didn't happen, I had to ask Adonai to have someone take him back to his mother. At least there he'd be safe.

Once back on Coruscant, I'd be intercepting Qui-Gon and, provided Valorum hadn't already reached out to the Jedi, take the mission before he could. If he'd already been assigned by the time I arrived, I'd tag along, claiming a connection with Padmé would help the mission.

Regardless, after nine years of waiting, the starter's gun had sounded. It might be another decade before things became official, but finally, the Clone Wars had entered their opening stages.

… …



… …
A/N: Well, finally, after 5+ years and over 850000 words, we reached the canon timeline.
...

This story is crossposted on Fanfiction.net, Archive of our Own, and Royal Road.
You can find me (and the backroom team who help with this) on Discord at:
For this series: Heart of the Force
For general chaos/Gamer stories: Shiro's Gaming Omniverse


If you wish to - for all but the lowest level - get 2 months of advanced drafts and more for all my works, you can consider supporting my work at:
Patreon: USSExplorer
SubscribeStar: USSExplorer


Regardless if you join the discord or support my writing, I hope you enjoy the story and suggestions, valid criticisms, and ideas are always welcome.
And of course;


May the Force be with you. Always.
 
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Castings
I realise I haven't given anything regarding what certain characters look like.
Anyone cast in the movies keeps that casting, otherwise, they're fair game, though not everyone has been cast.
Also, I won't be using Human castings for alien races, bar a handful of near-Human species. I might, however, use random artwork for certain sentients.
If I've missed someone from this list, or you have an idea for someone not listed, feel free to drop me a PM or reply to this message.

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Forgot to add this at the end of the chapter.
A rough idea of what Cam looks like in armour, krayt dragon skin cloak and all.

Picsart_23-06-29_14-28-42-613.png
Alright, now I can definitely see why Cam thinks the council is going to have a fit about his armor. It's absolutely badass though so I can see why he is willing to deal with it.
 
And lagertha is just perfect. Best woman period

Honestly, if I was fan casting for my other story (ASOIAF setting) she'd be there as well. Possibly as Val or a similar character.
And ofc, to keep up appearances, Osto is the same actor as Bjorn Ironside.
 
A/N: Well, finally, after 5+ years and over 850000 words, we reached the canon timeline.

Honestly, well done on sticking throughout this entire journey mate. It's not often you see a fanfiction author sticking it out that long before they even reach the start of what would be their media's canonical beginning.
 
A/N:
This story is, for now, currently cross-posted on Fanfiction.net and Archive of our Own.


Also, this entire chapter is told from other POVs, though it will cover Cam's fight in Keldabe.

Current date: 4 years until the Invasion of Naboo


(Again lots of cursing. To make a plural, add an "-e" to the word)
Aruetii – Outsider/Foreigner/Traitor
Aru'e – Enemy
Dinii – Lunatic
Di'kut – Idiot
Di'kutla – Stupid/worthless
Haar'chak – Damnit
Hodar – Fool
Hut'unn – Coward
Jareor – Reckless/foolish
Jare'la – Stupid (person)
Jate'kara – Good luck
Manda'yaim – Mandalore (planet)
Me'shab – What the fuck
Shabla – Screwed up
Shabuir – Jerk
Shab ni - Fuck me
Shebs'palon - Asshole
Vor entye – Thank you

The Warrior Reborn 4
… …
Bo-Katan's POV
… …

This was not how Bo-Katan expected today to go. Not by a long shot.

She and Naz had received a day off from training at the Institute (something the Laamyc group were given due to their more intense training) and had been wandering the city trying to relax. Bo-Katan had planned for today to involve some target practice at a range near the Institute, then some light sparring with Naz followed by heading to the Oyu'baat cantina.

There they'd meet a handful of their squad mates and a few other friends who also had the day off for a night of games, singing and drinking. After that… Well Bo-Katan had rented a room above the cantina on the (highly likely) chance that Naz became amorous as the night wore on.

Hell, if they both began flirting with someone else, she wasn't averse to bringing them to the room as well. Though she doubted it would be a male as while she didn't find them unattractive, outside of a few, she preferred to spend her evenings in the company of other females. Naz, on the other hand, was happy to flirt with both genders, but Bo-Katan knew that if the choice was there, Naz would always come to her bed. Well, for now.

Bo-Katan was all but certain that if Cameron Shan ever changed his mind about Naz, she'd likely end up coming second to her lover as to which bed the blonde would choose. And while she couldn't stop the prang of jealousy she felt every time she thought of Naz and Cameron together, Bo-Katan could (at least partially) understand her lover's desire. While a Jetii officially, Cameron was nothing like what she'd expected from a member of their Order. He was a warrior at heart, and a good one as she knew from their spars over the last year and carried himself as a leader. Plus, as much as she didn't want to admit it, he wasn't a half-bad kisser. Haran, if he'd been born a Mandalorian, she suspected her father would be grooming him to take over leadership of House Kryze one day, though at that point it would become House Shan.

Though that wasn't to say she felt Dorgo would be a bad clan chief, just that he was… less martially inclined than she would've liked. And the less said about her sister the better. Satine had been brainwashed by those hut'unne in Sundari and was little better than a lapdog for the Republic.

Still, regardless of if it would've been just her and Naz, or if another (she wouldn't mind it being Ursa, but the heiress of Clan Wren had recently started spending time with an artist) had joined them, she knew that after a day of getting all hot and sweaty from training, a few drinks would help put Naz in the mood for some "fun" later. And Bo-Katan wasn't much different, save that she preferred combat to drinking, singing, and dancing to get her blood pumping.

Of course, those plans had been shot to osik by this attack on Keldabe by those shabuir'yr Death Watch shebs'palone.

"Shab!" She cursed as she was once more forced to duck down behind the dumpster that had been tipped over (along with a few other things) to form the makeshift bunker for her, Naz and a Protector they'd run into on the streets not long after the chaos had started. From both ends of the alley they were taking heaving fire from, at her guess, about a dozen members of Death Watch.

This position was osik, and under normal circumstances she'd have never been caught dead in such a position. However, not only was the attack that had occurred on Keldabe not normal, but it seemed as though this group of Death Watch had been herding her and Naz. Though that had only happened once Bo's helmet had been damaged, and she'd been forced to drop it.

This group of Death Watch (which her father had claimed was all but defunct with the death of Naz's uncle) had altered their attacks from outright attempting to kill them to guiding them here; where the second squad were waiting to ambush them. And, from what little time she'd had to process the attack, none of it made sense.

They'd been coming out of a small shooting range that was run by an ally of Clan Kryze, when at least six explosions had rocked the city. A moment later, Bo-Katan had seen two Protectors gunned down the other members of their patrol squad before opening fire on the crowds around them. At that, she'd begun to drag Naz back towards the range (and the large supply of weapons within) only for said range to explode as a rocket slammed into the front door. Bo-Katan had stared in horror as the owner of the range – an old woman from Clan Brenz – had stumbled out of the door ablaze, only to fall over a moment later as her life ended.

Moments later warning sirens had sounded around the city, and she'd risked a glance skyward. Thanks to it being a clear morning, high above the city, in the very upper atmosphere, she caught flashes of colour. That was when she realised this wasn't just a simple attack on Keldabe but a coordinated attack on the entire planet. Yet, from what she knew of the remains of the group, Death Watch didn't and couldn't have the strength to do that alone.

She hadn't had time to consider who must be helping these hodare, before Naz fell to the ground. A bolt had struck her near her midsection. While her armour had taken the brunt of the damage (though that armour plate wasn't made of beskar and had been deformed by the hit), it was enough to make Naz fall to the ground.

Bo-Katan had reacted on instinct, and in a single move, dropped to a knee, pivoted, and shot the hodar who'd dare shoot her lover in the back in the helmet. The man had stumbled back and seeing the fact his helmet was badly scorched from her hit (indicating it also wasn't made of beskar), she'd shot him in the head three more times in quick succession.

As the body dropped to the ground, one of his cohorts had opened fire on her, striking her helmet and damaging it enough that the internal systems stopped working. As she'd pulled it off, Naz had fired on this second Death Watch fighter; forcing him and his fellows to find cover.

As her and Naz had withdrawn, Bo-Katan had tried to contact her teammates and her father, however the commlink responded only with static. That meant that either the central communications hub had been attacked, or the city was under the effects of jamming (or both). It wasn't long after realising this that Naz was hit again, this time, near the back of her thigh. As Naz had crumbled to the ground, Bo-Katan had cursed that their armour was made from durasteel and not beskar as a section of Naz's had slipped and sliced a long, but thankfully shallow, cut down Naz's right leg. While Bo did have a suit of beskar armour (which had been her mother's before it'd been reforged), that was back in Sundari as beskar armour was not allowed at the Institute; save for the end-of-session tournaments for Laamyc group.

A moment later, just as Bo-Katan had initially wondered how the approaching Death Watch (and the traitorous Protectors who had joined them) would kill them, their new partner had arrived. While she'd been reluctant to work with the lone Protector – since she had no idea if the woman was not allied with Death Watch force – Bo-Katan knew she had no choice. Together, they'd managed to get Naz back on her feet, though that was when Death Watch had begun to herd them towards this alley.

"Control, Blairn, I'm trapped in an alley off Tal'Chortav with two Trainees." The feminine voice of the now-named Protector Blairn with them drew Bo-Katan's attention. "We've got aru'e at either end and are cut off from a retreat." She saw a small hologram of another member of the city's Protector unit appear on the woman's vambrace. However, as the hologram moved, she couldn't hear what was being said by the image; likely meaning the sound was being filtered into the Protector's helmet.

A growl escaped Brian's lips, which wasn't in any way reassuring to Bo-Katan. "One of them's Duke Adonai's daughter."

Bo-Katan tried and failed to keep a scowl from appearing on her face. While Blairn recognizing her wasn't that big of a surprise (since she'd tossed away her helmet when it's stopped working and her armour bore the sigils of both Clan Kryze and herself over her shoulders), hearing the other woman use her as an excuse to try and divert support to their location was irritating. There were others in the city that likely needed help more than they did and trying to use her status as the daughter of the ruling Duke of the sector felt wrong.

The hologram responded once more, but Bo-Katan was forced to divert her attention back to those attacking them. The dumpster she was using as a makeshift barricade rattled as three, no four, bolts struck it while another pair flew overhead, striking the wall of the alley somewhere between their makeshift shelter and the other group of Death Watch. With everything they were using as cover made from thick durasteel, being several layers thick, or both, the incoming bolts were currently not a threat. However, if things didn't improve soon, she doubted the shelter would survive and with the sheer volume of incoming plasma, it was hard for her to fire.

"Understood Control, Blairn out." The Protector stated as Bo-Katan saw – from the corner of her eye – the hologram blink out. "The nearest support is, at least, twenty minutes out but they're busy trying to retake a Protector station."

She grunted in annoyance. Those stations were dotted all around the city and were intended to be fallback points if (or when given her people's history) the city came under attack. Each was meant to have basements able to survive against orbital bombardment for a short while and an armoury capable of outfitting a full company of Mandalorians. To hear that Death Watch and the aruetiie Protectors had seized at least one made perfect sense. Even if it diminished their chances of survival.

"We won't last that long." Naz spat out, her tone echoing Bo-Katan's feelings on the matter. As if in agreement, the dumpster Bo-Katan was hiding behind rattled as another volley of blaster fire impacted against it.

"We might. They seem to want both of you alive, Miss Vizsla." Blairn replied, making clear she knew who Naz was as well. "Both you and Miss Kryze would be important hostages for them to use against your fathers." Bo-Katan suppressed a grunt at the idea. If given the choice, she'd rather die than be used to allow these aruetiie to grow stronger. "So far, you're the only pair I know of that they haven't been trying to kill outright in this attack."

"Shab!" She spat out at hearing that. The idea that she was being 'spared' because of who her father was, and not because they respected her, lit a fire in her. Whatever it took, she was going to survive this attack, find the ones behind the attack and make them pay for thinking she was an easy target to attempt to capture.

The dumpster rattled as more bolts impacted against it (and into the wall above), and with her anger flaring, she reached her arm over the top and fired back a handful of bolts for her gauntlet. As she pulled it back, something hit it – likely a lucky bolt – and her arm jerked back at the force of the hit.

"Aargh!" Naz called out as Bo-Katan saw the damage to her gauntlet (a few sparks coming from the controls suggested the thing was now useless). She spun as best she could while staying in cover to see Naz had slumped to the ground, a hand resting against the section of her armour that had been hit earlier.

"Naz!" She called out before crawling over as quickly as she could. Thankfully the dumpster and other objects meant that she could do so without going onto her belly, though she did so just to be safe.

Once she was close enough, she saw that Naz was holding her side, at the same point where she'd been struck before. However, now there was blood flowing out from between her fingers. Bo-Katan cursed internally as she realised that the bolt that hit her gauntlet had deflected and, incredibly, hit the part of Naz's armour that was already weakened.

Carefully, she placed her hand over Naz's and eased the other woman's hand back. Naz groaned as she allowed her hand to be moved away and Bo-Katan gulped as the flow of blood increased and she saw the wound. The armour plate had buckled, driving the corner into Naz's midsection. Concerned about what internal damage had occurred (the plate sat over one of Naz's kidneys), Bo-Katan quickly ran her working gauntlet over the wound.

She exhaled in relief as the scan showed the plate had missed anything vital but had still cut deep enough that Naz was losing a lot of blood. Bo-Katan ran her scanner over the rest of Naz, and apart from some blood in the blonde's hair (which the scanner assured her wasn't anything more than a shallow cut) and the graze she'd taken earlier on her leg, Naz was in a solid, if wounded, condition.

Slowly, she moved Naz onto her side (mindful of the still incoming blaster bolts), which made her lover wince. "Aargh!"

"Sorry." She muttered as she reached into her belt (mentally thanking her father for insisting that she always kept some basic medical supplies on her person, even when in supposedly secure locations) and withdrew a pair of bacta patches.

While applying two small patches over a larger wound wasn't something she should do, it was all she could do. Naz hissed as the patches were pressed against the wound and Bo-Katan caught the faint whiff of bacta's familiar sour scent as they began to do their work.

Naz grumbled and reached for her pistol, which she'd likely dropped after getting hit, only for Bo-Katan to grab her arm.

"Wha?" Naz mumbled out as Bo-Katan gently forced her arm away from the blaster.

"Haar'chak, Naz! Stay still!" Bo-Katan hissed out as she felt Naz fighting against her grip, trying to reach the pistol.

"I can still fight!" Naz shot back, trying, and failing to push through Bo-Katan's grip. Under normal circumstances, they'd likely be evenly matched, but with Naz wounded and lying on her side, she didn't have the leverage to overcome Bo-Katan; a fact Bo-Katan was grateful for. She'd never forgive herself if Naz ended up more seriously wounded because she allowed the blonde to keep fighting.

"You probably can, but that wound is fresh enough that it'll break open if you stress it too much." Bo-Katan retorted. "We're not completely kriffed yet. They aren't trying to kill us at the moment. Save your strength for when shab gets real." She gave her lover a none-too-gentle poke in the ribs – well away from the wound – to drive her point across. "Stay down." She added as Naz grunted in annoyance at the jab.

"I…" Naz paused and for a moment Bo-Katan was worried the small cut on her head was worse than the scanner stated. She began to raise her working gauntlet (thankfully not on the arm stopping Naz from picking up her blaster) when an unexpected smile crept onto Naz's face. "He's coming."

For a moment, Bo-Katan wondered if the bacta was affecting Naz's mind, though she didn't say anything as ran her gauntlet scanner over Naz's head once more. Just be sure. Still no sign of a concussion, thank Manda.

"He's coming." Naz repeated, and Bo-Katan looked her lover in the eyes. Naz's expression was a mixture of conviction and relief, and Bo-Katan opened her mouth to ask what Naz.

"Me'shab?" She muttered as she felt… something strange. She didn't know what it was, never mind why it was happening, but in the corner of her mind, she felt something strange, foreign, and yet familiar. She tried to focus on it, pull whatever it was into focus, but the moment she did it vanished.

Before she had a chance to process exactly what had happened, Naz gripped her arm just above her gauntlet and squeezed. "You felt it too." Naz whispered, drawing Bo-Katan's focus back to her lover. "You hear his voice."

"Whose voice?" She asked, even as she felt as if she knew who Naz was speaking of. Unrequested, her mind pulled a memory about Jedi and Sith being able to touch the minds of others, and what they could do if a warrior ever lowered their guard around one.

"Cam's." Naz whispered in a tone that made a not insignificant part of Bo-Katan want to punch the boy. "He's coming."

A part of her wanted to say that Naz was wrong, that she was letting the pain from her wounds affect her mind, but the larger part of her realised her lover was right. As much as it galled her to admit, somehow Cameron had found a way to reach into their minds and let them know he was there; or would be soon. That left her conflicted as part of her was relieved that help – real help not the possibility of it – was coming, and at the chance to see what he could do in a combat situation. Though an equally large part of her was furious that she needed to be saved by a Jetii (even a Mando'ade one) and at how this would only play into Naz's feelings for the young man.

"Doesn't matter if that was him or not, or even if he's coming," she began, as she pushed her feelings on the matter to one side, "we're trapped here and if don't stay still you'll likely bleed out and I…" her words trailed off as an image of a dead Naz flashed through her mind. "I don't want to lose you."

Naz's fingers drifted over Bo-Katan's – sending a pleasant shiver up her arm – where her hand was holding her lover down. "I know." Naz said with a weak smile.

Bo-Katan took a moment to look at her lover. Naz meant more to her than almost anyone; certainly more than her traitorous sister – regardless if Satine had softened in her stance over the last year, she still argued that peace was the way forward – or her weak-willed father and brother. While she knew what they had wouldn't last, after all Naz's father had stated clearly that Naz would have to marry Kote Wrajud – which had resulted in Naz shattering the boy's nose when he tried to impress her. Bo-Katan was furious at Pre Vizsla for arranging the marriage for Naz, and not just because it would take Naz away from her. Arranged marriages weren't the way the Mando'ade behaved, but with Pre Vizsla acting as a mouthpiece for those di'kute in Sundari, it wasn't a surprise he acted in such an un-Mandalorian way.

However, for whatever time together they'd have, she planned to enjoy and she'd always… care for Naz.

With the moment over, Bo-Katan nodded and gave Naz a smile back before lifting her hand. She turned to head back to her cover, only for something to be pushed into her hand. She looked down and saw Naz had placed her pistol there. "Kill these shabuire for me." Naz ordered.

Bo smirked, and as she turned, she reached over the dumpster and fired off a volley of bolts towards the group at the far end of the alley. Quickly she pulled the pistol back down, not wanting to give Death Watch a chance to destroy it, then crawled back to her side of their temporary bunker. The entire bunker vibrated as both groups of Death Watch troopers rained down fire on their position, and Bo-Katan had to wonder if they'd called in reinforcements.

While it was nice to have a working pistol again, it was soon apparent to her that, unless Cameron really did arrive soon, she and Naz would be captured (at best) while Protector Blairn would be dead. There was nowhere for them to retreat to, and even if every other skirmish across the city was going against Death Watch, here they only had to wait until Bo-Katan and Blairn were out of tibanna gas for their blasters and gauntlets before they could approach and overwhelm them.

While she and Blairn were able to fire off some bolts to keep their attackers honest, the simple fact was Death Watch was toying with them. Bo-Katan could barely keep a snarl from her face as she became convinced that she'd soon be taken prisoner by these aruetiie. With her and Naz as their prisoners, no matter how the battle for the city went, Death Watch could force her father (And Naz's, though he had far less power and influence) to do what they wished if he wanted to see his daughter again.

Still, she kept taking any opportunity she could to fire in the direction of her attackers. There was always the chance she'd get lucky and take one of them out, even if she thought she had more chance of drawing pure sabacc from her opening cards.

This pattern of their temporary protection rocking as it came under fire, and her and Blairn firing back all but blindly – she was cursing the fact her helmet had been damaged as without the sensor package inside she doubted her shots were coming anywhere close to her attackers – until the moment came where she lifted her pistol and pulled the trigger, only to hear it misfire as the gas inside ran out. With her not having taken any spare power cells from the range when they'd left, nor fully charged her own pistol before they'd left, that meant she was down to just her gauntlets.

"Osik!" Bo-Katan spat out as she threw the now useless weapon to the ground. She checked the gauntlet that was still working, and her mood worsened. There was less than ten percent charge left and with the other gauntlet damaged, she couldn't eject the power cell to swap them around. "Osik!" She spat out again.

"Here." Bo-Katan turned at hearing Naz's voice. Her lover tossed a small object – that Bo-Katan realised was a gauntlet power cell – which, in a single fluid motion, she caught and brought towards her working gauntlet. "About a sixty percent charge." Naz added, making Bo-Katan smirk.

With practised ease, she released the old cell (letting it drop to the ground), slid Naz' one in, and recharged the gauntlet's built-in blaster. The power reading stated a sixty-three percent charge, meaning she was back in business. At least for now.

With a gauntlet that would last more than a few dozen bolts, she felt she had a better chance of lasting long enough until help arrived. However, she knew that if Cameron or other true Protectors didn't arrive soon, it would all be for naught. A glance at the chronometer on her gauntlet let her know that only six minutes had passed since Blairn had called for support; meaning the nearest Protector unit was still a quarter hour out (at best). As for Cameron… even if he was on the way, there was no indication of when he'd arrive.

With this being her last working weapon – she had no intention of asking or taking Naz's other gauntlet's power cell – she knew she had to make every shot count. At the next (relatively speaking) lull in incoming fire, she returned fire with only three shots, instead of the half-dozen or so she'd been taking before the pistol had run out of gas.

"Shab!" Blairn snapped, drawing Bo-Katan's attention as she brought her gauntlet back into cover; just before a new volley of bolts slammed into the dumpster. She saw Blairn throw down her rifle in anger, making it clear the weapon was, much like Naz's pistol, now useless as a firearm. When they'd met the Protector, Bo-Katan had noted that she'd only had one spare power cell on her - likely meaning she'd been heavily engaged before their meeting - and, just before they'd created this bunker, the Protector had slapped that cell into the rifle. Bo-Katan kept her face neutral (as best she could) even as she felt as if something was constricting around her heart, slowly squeezing the life from her.

She took a deep breath, centring herself. She couldn't control when help (if any) would arrive. All she could do was keep fighting, keep resisting and do her best to take out at least a few of these aruetiie before they were overwhelmed.

The dumpster rattled once more, and she spotted a section of wall on the ground at one end. Slowly, she crawled over to it and discovered the makeshift barrier had damaged the wall at some point from when she'd knocked it over or from a stray bolt from Death Watch, she couldn't say – and there was a small gap between the dumpster and the wall. Moving as slowly as she could, he lay down to look through the hole.

There were about a dozen fighters at the end of the alley, though only four were firing. Though what caught her eye was one of the ones not firing had exposed more of his rifle than she would've.

Figuring this was a good opportunity to take out one of the Death Watch, she slid her arm into the hole, and trusting her instincts, squeezed off a bolt. She couldn't see the fighter react, but an unexpected yelp from the alley had her hopeful her shot had been true.

Before the other attackers could shift their aim at her gauntlet, she pulled her arm back and with her free hand, dropped the chunk of wall that had been dislodged into the hole. She'd barely begun to move back when said chuck was shattered into pieces from incoming fire.

Taking another chance, she scrambled to the far side of the dumpster, slid her gauntlet over the top, and squeezed off two bolts. A few grunts came from the alley, suggesting she'd at least come close. And before the return fire impacted near her, she was already fully under cover.

"Bo! Naz! Stay down!"

Even as her mind processed who had called out, she felt her body begin to comply. The air above her seemed to shift as something large and powerful shot overhead. It passed over her dumpster first, then quickly cleared the temporary bunker, before heading to the far end of the alley. There, it sounded as if the walls had exploded, yet she'd failed to smell a blaster bolt or rocket fuel as whatever it was flew overhead, nor hear the sounds of whatever was fired exploding on impact.

Dust was kicked up in the alley, though not enough to obscure her vision, and as she realised who had called out the warning/command, she saw Naz looking at her, a large smile on her lover's face. "Told you."

Bo-Katan slapped down a spike of anger at having to be rescued by a Jetii before she turned and dared to peek over her cover. Her eyes widened as she saw Cameron standing at the end of the alley, one hand outstretched towards her while the other held his ignited lightsaber (and just as every time before, there was a moment where she confused his weapon for the Darksaber) in a relaxed stance. His eyes were open, but in the moment before he spotted her, she swore he was angry about something.

Curious, she turned and looked to the far end of the alley. It was hard to see what was there – a decent sized dust cloud had sprung up from whatever Cameron had done to the wall near the corner of the alley – but there wasn't any sound to suggest the Death Watch were still conscious. Or even alive as, for a moment, she spotted two bodies lying unmoving in the middle of the street.

"Shab." She whispered at seeing the carnage he'd unleashed in only a few seconds. Naz chuckled softly, having likely heard her whispered curse, which made Bo-Katan's anger flare anew.

Scowling as her anger at having to be rescued by him came back, she snapped back around and looked at him. "Where the shab have you been?!" She spat out.

His lips twisted upwards, and she swore she saw him chuckle before he replied. "Sorry, the traffic was murder."

She bit off a growl at his apparent flippancy and moved over quickly to Naz. "Get over here. Naz is wounded." She called out even as she knelt beside her lover.

The dust around them kicked up for a moment. Before she could turn to see why she realised that Cameron was beside her; his lightsaber was already depowered. She had to slap down an instinct to react defensively at the sudden appearance of someone next to her. An instinct that was empowered by her anger at his arrival and behaviour and by how Naz reacted as she looked up at him.

"I heard you in my mind." Naz whispered caringly as Bo-Katan watched Cameron run his eyes over Naz. Again, she had to fight off the small voice inside that told her to strike at him for daring to get close to Naz. Yes, she knew there would come a day when she and Naz would have to end, and yes, if Cameron ever showed interest, then Bo-Katan would accept him being with Naz over Kote Wrajud, but that didn't mean she had to like it. Still, Cameron seemed to either not hear Naz's whispered words, or chose to ignore them.

His free hand drifted over the bacta patches Bo-Katan had applied earlier. She saw a faint silvery-blue glow emanate in the gap between hand and patches. Naz's eyes rolled upwards as her head tilted back and a soft moan escaped her lips. Bo-Katan lifted her working gauntlet – whether to protect Naz or strike out at Cameron for seemingly hurting her, she couldn't say – to aim it at Cameron's head, only to stop as she realised what she was doing.

While he may be a Jetii, he was Mando'ade. Yes, he was wearing his dragon-skin cloak (and a part of her would always be jealous that he'd killed a dragon for his hunt), but it was over the robes worn by his Order. The sooner he stopped wearing those, the sooner she would feel comfortable knowing his loyalties lay with their people and not the di'kute on Coruscant.

The light faded, and she pulled back his hand. "There, that should heal the damage, but I'd still suggest getting a doctor to check it and taking it easy for a while." He said, only to chuckle once and look towards the far end of the alley. "Well, once things aren't shabla around here."

Bo-Katan felt her lips twist upwards at his weak attempt at humour, though they stopped when Naz did smile. To be losing the affection of her lover to a Jetii – even one who had joined their people – was infuriating. If ONLY he'd leave that Order and join their ranks fully. Then she could give her blessing (no matter how much it might hurt her) for Naz to pursue Cameron. He was a far better choice than most around them – especially Kote Wrajud, who in her opinion, wasn't much better than shab on her boot – and the first Mando'ade to take down a shabuir'yr greater krayt dragon.

"Who are you?" Blairn asked, drawing Bo-Katan from her thoughts. "And where the shab did you come from?"

Right, she didn't know who Cameron was, or where he'd come from. After all, the Jetii assigned to their sector (and whom Bo-Katan had met a few times) was a Cathar male named Lhan.

"Cameron Shan, at your service." Cameron replied, giving the Protector a lazy salute. "And I arrived in orbit a short while ago aboard Duke Torrhen Ordo's cruiser." While Blairn was wearing her helmet, Bo-Katan could detect the subtle signs from Blairn at her shock at what she was hearing. Cameron might not realise it, but his name was on the lips of every Mando'ade on the planet (and possibly throughout the sector) because of his hunt. Of course, she and Naz had promised to wait and see how the young man reacted when he discovered this instead of telling him outright. The reaction was one they were both looking forward to seeing.

"S-Shan? Right." Blairn responded, all but tripping over his name. "Duke Torrhen is mounting a counter-attack against Death Watch then?" She asked, killing Bo-Katan's amusement at the Protector's surprise – and Cameron's lack of understanding about why.

Cameron's face contorted, making her wonder if there was something he'd done that he shouldn't have, and he absently rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm, uh, not really sure. I might've, sort've, jumped from the cruiser to get down here quicker." Bo-Katan felt her brow rise at that, because as far as she knew, he'd never had any training with their jetpacks. Come to think of it, where was his jetpack? "They were plotting a course for Sundari, but my friends were in danger, and I, um, felt I'd be more useful here than there."

"I didn't realise you were trained with our jetpacks." Blairn stated, giving voice to the thought Bo-Katan had just had.

He gulped and smiled even as his head shrunk into his neck. "I'm not. I, uh, well I jumped without one." She felt her jaw drop (and hear Naz inhale sharply) at hearing he'd leapt from a cruiser – one likely in high orbit at best – so he could reach them quicker. "The, uh, Force helped slow my descent and helped me land." He finished, looking like he wished to be anywhere but here right now.

"I see." Blairn replied after a moment's silence. Even without being able to see her face, Bo-Katan was sure the Protector was just as shocked as she was about Cameron's way to reach them.

For her part, Bo-Katan was both impressed and shocked at his behaviour. That he'd done something so reckless, so jareor, to help them… it left her conflicted. What he'd done was beyond reckless, and even though she wanted to ask how it felt to sky-dive without any supporting technology – and ignored the strange feeling she had at him doing that to help her and Naz – she was more likely to smack him for the sheer

SMACK

"Ow!"

Bo-Katan felt her brow rise into her hairline at seeing Naz slap Cameron across the face. It hadn't been a gentle slap either, something confirmed by his reaction to it as he fell back onto his butt and lifted a hand to his cheek.

"That was jare'la, you di'kut." Naz growled out, before leaning forward. Cameron, much to Bo-Katan's amusement, scuttled back a fraction before Naz's hand came to rest on his. She fought down another wave of anger as Naz smiled tenderly at him. "Vor entye."

"You're welcome. I think." Cameron replied slowly as Bo-Katan got her anger under control again. He glanced her way, making her wonder if he'd sensed her anger, though said nothing.

The unexpectedly strange moment was ended by a bleep from Cameron's wrist; one Bo-Katan knew came from a Mandalorian gauntlet communicator. Removing his hand from his cheek, he tapped at the small display and Bo-Katan saw a saw hologram of Master Fay appear. While she couldn't deny she found the Jedi Master attractive (who wouldn't?), Bo-Katan would've preferred to see an image of Master Dooku. At least he wasn't being pursued by her father.

"Yes, Master?" Cameron asked, his brow twitching in a way that had Bo-Katan wondering if he'd jumped without permission. Which was something she found amusing, further annoying and further endearing.

"Since you are now answering my comms, I assume you have landed safely." The Jedi Master began. Bo-Katan thought she heard a hint of amusement mixed with annoyance in the woman's tone. "And given that I can see Miss Vizsla's image, you have reached both her and Miss Kryze."

"Yes master." Cameron replied as Bo-Katan did her best to not think back to the last time someone had called her 'Miss Kryze'. She'd hated elementary school; mainly because they weren't allowed to carry a weapon until their fifth year. "They're here with a local Protector. Or one that hasn't turned sides." He added with a sneer that reminded Bo-Katan of an issue she'd insist her father allowed her to help with afterwards; the cleansing of the city's Protector units and the hunting down of friends and family of those who'd broken their oaths. "From what I saw on the way down, most of the fighting is focused on the Mandalmotors HQ, and the attack in the city is being led entirely by Death Watch."

"That agrees with the reports we've received from scattered locations across the city." Master Fay paused and she sighed before continuing. "With that in mind, Master Dooku and I would like you to head to the tower. From what we know an important figure in galactic business is trapped in the tower and is the main focus of Death Watch's attack on the city."

"Understood." Cameron responded. "What about you and Master Dooku?"

Once more Fay paused for a moment, then her hologram turned to face Bo-Katan. "We will be… helping Duke Torrhen to secure Sundari. Duke Torrhen believes that Duke Adonai is the primary target of the assault on Sundari and both Master Dooku and I concur. While I am unsure if us becoming involved in internal Mandalorian matters is the correct course of action, I believe it will help Master Dooku."

"Yes, master." Cameron replied, making Bo-Katan wonder why that would be. A split second later a likely reason came to her. Master Dooku may be upset for his role in the battle of Galidraan, so any action that would harm Death Watch could be a way to re-balance the scales. Or that's how she would see things if she was in the Jetii's position. Though if she was, she'd have no issues with using the full range of the Jetii's abilities to put down Death Watch once and for all.

The hologram turned from her to look at Naz. "While I will not offer false hope, you both may rest assured that we will do all we can to ensure the safety of both your families."

"Thank you master Jedi." Naz offered. Bo-Katan lowered her head in thanks, unwilling to verbally thank a Jetii for help in a Mandalorian matter. Plus, there was still the issue that her father was enamoured with the graceful female Jedi master. Though, she supposed, if Master Fay was able to protect her father, brother, and nephew, she might be willing to… stifle her resentment of her father's affection for the Jetii master.

If anything happened to her family… She felt her fists close tightly as, for all the bad blood that existed between her and her father (and even Satine), she would never forgive herself if they died because of her inaction. If anyone hurt her family, she'd, she'd…

A hand on her shoulder broke her from her dark thoughts. She turned to see that Cameron had been the one to place the hand. He didn't smile or offer any words of support (or thank Manda, sympathy), instead choosing to stay silent. And while she would likely never admit it, she did appreciate the gesture.

"Do you have any details about the attack on Mandalmotors?" Blairn asked, drawing Bo-Katan's focus back to the here and now.

"Sporadic at best, I'm afraid." Master Fay began. "We've learnt that the tower has been breached, though from the last report security is still holding the top third of the building. This dignitary had the foresight to bring their own security, which is assisting the building's beleaguered forces." Bo-Katan thought that bringing their own security wasn't foresight but just common sense. Then again, she wasn't a weak-willed Republic stooge like most dignitaries. "Local forces are trying to retake the tower entrance; however Death Watch have dug in and still have a large force outside the building turning the plaza into a death trap."

While she hated to admit it, Bo-Katan had to agree with Death Watch's tactics. The plaza was a nightmare to hold in a firefight, but if they were bunkered down inside the tower, then it was an almost perfect area to have outside. Bar some monuments, benches and the like, the area had very limited cover that any counterattack could use to approach.

What she wasn't happy about was how weak losing control of the tower and plaza made the Protectors – and by extension those who followed the old ways – to other factions; both internal and external. She saw that Cameron was frowning at his master's report, but she doubted it was because of similar thoughts to hers.

"Who exactly is this visitor?" He asked with a slight edge to his voice.

"A Munn by the name of Hego Damask. Apparently Master Dooku has had dealings with him before and was surprised to learn he had travelled to Mandalore." Once more, Fay paused and Bo-Katan was all but certain she was upset about something. "Once this internal Mandalorian matter is resolved, we will be discussing your actions. Until then, head to the tower and assist the local forces in retaking the tower and rescuing Magister Damask."

She felt her brow rise and her pulse quicken at hearing Cameron would help. Not because of any silly desire about him, but because of getting the chance to fight beside him and see what he could do in a real fight. Oh, he'd taken out the two squads that'd trapped her, Naz and Blairn in this alley easily, but that'd likely been due to him catching them unawares. After engaging Death Watch on the way to the plaza, that would no longer be the case. Meaning he'd have to really show what he could do and something told her that it'd be glorious.

"Yes, Master." Cameron replied before closing the link and turning to face her. "Bo, get Naz to a medic. While I've healed her wound, I'd rather it was checked by a professional."

For a moment, Bo-Katan's brain thought it had misheard him. Was he telling her to stay out of a fight? She opened her mouth to respond – and saw Naz doing the same – only for the area (centred on Cameron) to become engulfed in silver light.

When it faded a second later, she felt her jaw drop. Cameron was gone, as in completely vanished. Since when could that shabuir do that? And more worryingly, could all Jetii do the same because that certainly hadn't been in any combat manuals about the Order (or the other major Force group, the Sith) that she'd read. That was just…

"Me'shab?" Blairn muttered, giving voice to Bo-Katan's thoughts.

Bo-Katan resolved that once things had settled down, she was going to haul Cameron into a ring and demand that he fight her no-holds-barred. She needed to know just where she stood against him (and by extension other Jetii, even if she knew he wasn't a typical member of their order) and how far she still had to go to be as good as her idol; Shae Visla.

"Come on." Naz called out, breaking her from her thoughts. Bo-Katan saw that her lover was beginning to stand, one hand holding the bacta patches against her side as she did so. "I'm not letting Cam do this alone." She added once she was standing. Bo-Katan was quickly on her feet and helped her climb over the dumpster.

"Wait!" Blairn called out, but neither of the younger women paid her any heed. Both had soon cleared the dumpster and begun to jog out of the alley. As they stepped into the street, Bo-Katan saw a shop opposite – one her brother Dorgo enjoyed going to – ablaze while she saw two limbs lying on the ground. Both had been cut cleanly off in a way she knew was the mark of a lightsaber. The carnage they passed made her smile as it proved (in her mind) that Cameron wasn't as weak-minded as most Jetii. He was willing and able to do what he must to end a situation quickly and efficiently.

As they orientated themselves to be sure of which way to go, sounds of blaster fire drifted towards them, coming from both sides of the new street. That was a reminder to her that getting to the plaza was going to be a challenge. Or more of one as they had, at least, a few kilometres to cover; likely more if any of the streets were blocked by fighting or rubble. One thing they'd have to do was rearm, as both were down to a single gauntlet blaster, with hers being down to forty-one percent.

"He couldn't have left us one working weapon?" Naz spat out as she kicked the muzzle of a destroyed rifle.

While they'd passed some weapons as they'd emerged into the street, all of them – like the limbs – had clearly met the business end of a lightsaber. Or at least the ones that hadn't still been holstered/attached to Death Watch fighters anyway. The others had likely been destroyed in the explosion.

Bo-Katan smirked at her lover's annoyance. "I'd have done the same. Taking their rifles out helps against a larger force. Just wish I could've seen him do it."

Naz smirked at that. "What? You going soft on him?"

Bo-Katan shook her head. "Nah. Just want to watch him crack some skulls." She took one last quick look around the street but saw nothing useful. Even the one body that wasn't in flames was useless as it'd been thrown so hard into the wall, a good chunk had fallen on top of the body: burying anything useful in rubble.

Without another word, the pair started jogging again, and quickly reached an intersection. There, she stopped as she heard a groan. She went to one side of the street while Naz went to the other, allowing them clear views down the opposite direction. A pair of nods confirmed both ways were clear of combat, and Bo-Katan moved around the corner. About ten metres in front of her, just outside a kaffa house chain shop, were two Death Watch fighters. Both were down, though one was crawling along slowly; a femur sticking out from their leg with a pistol in one hand.

She jogged over to the man, reaching and disarming him of his pistol before he realised she was there. She knelt beside him then, after removing it from its sheath, drove her knife through the back of the man's neck, severing his spine. The death was quicker than she felt he deserved for his treachery, but there was no way she would move one without making sure he was dead.

She heard footsteps behind her, and while she was all but certain it was Naz, she still turned – pistol raised – in case it wasn't. Thankfully it was. Naz paid no heed to the man Bo-Katan had just killed as she walked past her. Bo-Katan followed Naz's movement and saw her lover gingerly kneel beside the other body before scooping up a rifle.

The pair quickly removed the power cells from the dead Death Watch trooper's gauntlets, then stood. That was when Blairn came around the corner, running into two aimed weapons from Naz and Bo-Katan. Not wanting their new ally to be unarmed, nor likely wanting to have to wait for Blairn to find her own replacement weapon, Naz kicked another pistol – this one coming from the same body where she'd found the rifle – to the Protector before turning and running off.

Bo-Katan was quickly on her heels, a fact made easier as she saw that Naz was moving gingerly at a pace barely above a jog.

Another explosion rocked the city, this one having come from the direction of the tower and plaza, with enough strength that both had to stop. Bo-Katan moved quickly over to Naz as she saw her lover grab her side, a hand coming to rest on the bacta patches.

"Naz?" She asked softly as she reached her lover's side.

Naz waved her rifle-carrying hand in the air. "I'm fine. Come on, Cam needs us." She stood, pushing away Bo-Katan's hand and started jogging again.

Bo-Katan smacked down a wave of anger at Naz being so concerned about the Jetii. While she knew that her lover had feelings for Cameron, letting that anger out in battle would lead to mistakes. Though she did suspect that the reason for the new explosion was the young man. He just seemed to have that kind of jate'kara.

With no intention of letting her lover head into danger alone (nor miss out on seeing just what the Revan'ade could do when unleashed), she took off after Naz. The sound of footsteps behind her let her know Blairn was following close behind.

They passed two more intersections before hearing voices as they approached the fourth – which would be close to the plaza. Upon hearing the voices from the direction they needed to go, the pair slid to a stop before reaching the corner.

With a nod, Bo-Katan slid round Naz so both could emerge with sight lines down the new street. There they saw three armoured warriors groggily getting to their feet. The crest of Death Watch on one of their Pauldrons was enough for both to open fire. A third stream of bolts soon joined them, indicating Blairn had joined them, and the three Death Watch troopers quickly fell under the sustained and unexpected barrage.

As they stood, she heard a hiss of pain from Naz, and turned to face her. "Naz?" She asked as she saw the other young woman holding her patched side tightly.

"It's nothing, I can work through this." Naz replied, though Bo-Katan knew it was a lie. Even ignoring how long they'd spent around each other over the last few years, Bo-Katan would've known Naz was lying. The slightly clenched jaw, and her pale complexion where the skin was exposed made things clear to see. "We need to help Cam."

Bo-Katan batted down another spike of anger at Naz's feelings about Cameron. However, she was unable to ignore her concern about Naz's health. Cameron had stated that he wanted Naz checked by a medic, yet here she was heading directly towards the thickest combat. While Bo-Katan loved that about Naz, right now it was an issue.

"Naz," She began, her insides twisting at the wince of pain that dominated Naz's face. At that, she reached forward and placed a firm hand on her lover's shoulder. "You're not going any further."

Naz's grimace twisted as she replied. "But…"

"No." she cut in, stopping Naz from trying to convince her to let her go. "Cameron was right; you need to see a medic." Naz opened her mouth to respond, but Bo-Katan cut her off by placing her hand over the mouth. Or trying to as it was hard to do that with a pistol in it. "I know you won't do that. It's one of the things I love about you." She added as a smile crept onto her face. "So can you instead take overwatch?" She asked as she removed her hand from Naz's face and pointed to a building that would give sightlines of the plaza.

Naz followed her hand and saw the building. It appeared stable – otherwise Bo-Katan would never have recommended it – while keeping Naz away from the worst of the fighting.

Naz's shoulders slumped as she turned back to face her. "Fine. But you're coming with me."

"No. Cameron does need help." She offered, though she didn't really believe it. The main reason she wanted to reach the plaza was to see Cameron in action at close quarters. She had a feeling it would be something special to watch the Jetii cut loose against Death Watch.

"Bo, you're not going to…"

Bo-Katan smiled at Naz, then acting on instinct, leaned forward and kissed Naz hard. As she pulled back, she took a step away. "Yeah. I need to do this."

"I can't let you do that." Blairn said, reminding her that the Protector was still with them.

She resisted an urge to roll her eyes at the Protector thinking she could stop her from doing anything. While she'd been useful while they'd been pinned down by Death Watch, since then she'd been bringing up the rear and generally doing nothing.

"Try and stop me." She replied to the older woman with a smile, before winking at Naz then taking off at a full sprint. She considered heading directly towards the plaza from her current location, but given they'd run into a small Death Watch unit right here, and smoke from the explosion from a little earlier (which she suspected Cameron was behind) was rising near the next intersection, she decided to head a little south first. Better to come at the plaza from an angle where Death Watch might not be than one where they certainly would be.

Now, she could only hope she arrived in time to see Cameron fight against Death Watch. And maybe kill a few of those aruetiie herself.
… …



… …

Gar Saxon's POV


Gar ducked lower behind the wall he was using as cover (or what was left of it) near the edge of the plaza outside the Mandalmotors tower as said wall was peppered by multiple, rapid-fire blaster bolts. As small pieces of the wall broke loose and bounced off his helmet and armour, he cursed Death Watch for how effective their initial assault had been.

He'd never admitted it publicly (only once to Rook after a rather raucous bout of sex had the topic ever come up), but he understood the appeal of the group. The old ways had been cast aside by those diniie in Sundari and empowered by Duke Adonai's decision to ally with them (and he could understand the duke's reasoning, even if he didn't agree with it), thus any group proposing a return to the natural status of being Mando'ade would find support among the people. But to attack the ancient capital of Keldabe, and slaughter civilians (or at least, Mando'ade just going about their daily lives) and children… No, Gar could no longer believe Death Watch was anything but a group of aruetiie that needed to be exterminated. Along with the traitorous elements within the Protector core who'd aided in the assault on the city; and broken their oaths in the process.

"We're pinned down." Rook's call out over the squad comms came through loud and clear, even with more rubble bouncing harmlessly (so far) off his armour. He turned his head and glanced to where she, and two of the remaining six members of the Protector detail were cowering down. They'd been trapped behind an elevated area of garden that dotted the edges of the plaza outside the Mandalmotors tower. While the tree in the middle of that particular plot had long since been destroyed, the walls of it – while low – were sturdy and could take far more of a pounding than the wall Gar was currently using for cover.

"Stay down Kast. We've got no support incoming." Responded their squad leader, a Zabrak named Roprun. "Other units are working to secure targets closer to their location and get children and civilians out of the warzone." The Zabrak was trapped with the remaining member of their guard squad (two members had fallen in the initial Death Watch assault while the entirety of the other squad that'd been guarding this section of the plaza had been wiped out) inside a small restaurant a short distance beyond where Rook was pinned down.

Initially Gar hadn't enjoyed working with Roprun. Not because he was an alien, though Gar couldn't deny that was a slight issue he still had as his father had been very xenophobic (thankfully his mother was far more openminded about who could be Mando'ade), but because no longer being a team/squad leader was a shock to Gar's system. However, once he'd gotten past that initial discomfort, Gar had found the Zabrak to be a harsh, but fair leader. Roprun lacked any grace in his command style (a failing Gar shared with him) and was aggressive, but he was a solid unit commander.

"Understood." Rook replied, though Gar could detect the annoyance in her tone. Which wasn't a surprise as he was feeling the same way. Being on the receiving end of this attack and watching dozens of their fellow (loyal) Protectors gunned down in the initial assault and following attempts to retake the tower were wearing on Gar's psyche.

There had been no warning of that attack. One minute their squad had been standing guard in the square – keeping their distance from four Sun Guards that the Munn VIP in the tower had brought with him as an escort – when the next chaos was unleashed. Three of the four Sun Guards – along with two whole squads of Protectors – had died in dual explosions that rocked the plaza; then Death Watch had swarmed down from the roofs and streets around the plaza while the aruetiie within the Protector's ranks had stuck at their supposed friends and co-workers.

Before Gar was able to get his bearings, nearly fifty Death Watch commandos had stormed the lobby of Mandalmotors tower, overrun the security forces there, and taken control of the building's defences. Two more squads of Protectors – including the one containing Anno Hark and Trushrul Frka (two members of Gar's unit at the Institute) – were gunned down by the twin heavy repeating blaster cannons that Death Watch deployed once the lobby was secure. Another member of Gar's former unit, Ellan Aran, had already been removed from the battlefield after she lost a leg to a grenade.

With those repeating blasters in place, and Death Watch still holding several buildings and streets surrounding the plaza, a hastily arranged Protector counterassault had been massacred. Now, all Gar and the remaining Protectors could do was stay in cover and await reinforcements. However, given that the Protector communication channels were awash with reports of attacks on major Protector stations – and other targets of value – throughout the city, Gar had doubted any help would be coming. And Roprun had just confirmed that.

A strange silvery light appeared behind him. As he turned to aim his rifle at whatever had caused it, his helmet's sensors flared at a new, unexpected contact that had appeared out of nowhere about a metre behind him. However, in mid-turn, his rifle seemed to hit against an invisible barrier, and he almost lost his grip on it as his body continued to turn. As he saw who had appeared, he was glad he was wearing his helmet as it hid his shock and disbelief from sight (and he'd deny ever being shocked to his dying breath.)

"Hello there." Cameron Shan said, a small chuckle escaping his lips at some private joke. A blaster bolt from a member of Death Watch was swatted aside with a gesture as the Jetii stood there, and he just stood there as if waiting for Gar to respond.

"Where the shab did you come from?" Gar snapped out without any venom as he regained his senses. At the same time, he felt the invisible grip on his rifle (which he now realised was Shan using the Force) end. He pulled the weapon back into a more natural/useful position as he glared up at the younger man.

"From that building there," Cameron responded, flicking a hand (that Gar saw contained his unlit lightsaber) towards a building about a hundred metres west of Gar's location. "Though if you're meaning more generally, then from Duke Torrhen's cruiser."

Gar felt a small shred of hope blossom at the idea of reinforcements from Clan Ordo. "Where are his forces?" While he didn't doubt the remaining Protectors in the city could retake the tower, he doubted that would be anytime soon. And would likely result in the death of the VIP inside – who appeared to be Death Watch's primary target with this assault.

"On their way to Sundari." Shan replied, his head sinking into his shoulders for some reason. "Duke Anzur Varaud launched a simultaneous assault on the capital. He and my masters felt that was the more important target."

Gar grunted in understanding. Even if he didn't want to admit it – mainly because reinforcements would be highly useful right now – he understood that Sundari and Duke Adonai were more important in the current scheme of Mandalorian politics than a VIP from outside the sector. Yes, Keldabe held an important place in the hearts of all true Mandalorians, but in galactic terms, it was just another major city on the planet; hence why the Jetii would prioritize Sundari.

"Saxon! Who the shab is there with you?" Roprun's demanding shout/order cut off Gar's next question. With the computers in their armour and helmets linked in a battlenet, every member of Gar's unit would be aware of Shan's arrival.

"Cameron Shan." Gar replied quietly into his helmet microphone. "A Jetii Mando'ade." He added, which made the younger man frown. Whether that was because he wasn't sure he Gar was talking to, or didn't like being called a Jetii Mando'ade, Gar didn't know nor particularly care.

"Shab ni." Rook muttered softly – though obviously not quietly enough for her helmet to not pick up her words. Gar had to agree as he knew what Shan could do in a spar (even if it wasn't a live-fire or freeform spar), so getting to fight beside the Jetii was going to be fun.

"The Revan'ade?" Roprun asked back. Gar swore he saw Shan's eye twitch a moment later, but there was no way he could hear the Zabrak's comment, right? Gar's audio feed was directly into his ears and muted to external sources so unless a Jedi had a way to enhance their hearing – which, from what he knew about their abilities was possible – to allow him to hear Roprun, he couldn't have heard that.

"Yes," Gar responded. He thought about saying something to Shan since he knew the younger man disliked that title – even if, to Gar at least, he'd earned with his actions over the last year and a bit – but before he could, Shan began to move.

"Get Down!" Gar hissed out as the Jetii stepped beside him, but Shan ignored him. Gar's arm was stopped from grabbing the younger man by the Force, meaning he could only watch as Shan stepped around the wall Gar was using for cover into full view of the plaza. And the Death Watch fighters scattered around it.

"Saxon!" Roprun screeched into his ear, demanding to know what was going on. As he regained control of his arm – the Jetii's abilities were a nuisance – he scurried over to the edge of the wall, planning to pull Shan back into cover.

However, that plan failed because of two things.

Firstly, was the sudden, but Gar had to admit expected, increase in blaster fire. Death Watch had clearly seen Shan step out of cover and planned to mow him down. However, the second thing that stopped Gar was when Shan raised his free hand, and the bolts slammed against an invisible barrier.

It took Gar a moment to remember that Jetii could stop blaster fire with more than their lightsaber, something he'd received training in to counter. Yet to see it done for real was considerably more impressive than seeing it on a recording of when Mando'ade had fought the Republic's defenders in the past. And it was doubly impressive as it was a man of thirteen doing it; and making it look easy as Shan continued to walk forward at a slow but steady pace.

"Me'shab," someone muttered in over the battlenet comms, and Gar found himself agreeing. For a second, Gar's mind wandered back to his tournament fight with Shan; a fight that had been the single greatest fight in his life to date. Then, Shan had been holding back to show Gar (and his people) the respect he deserved. Yet, as Gar watched the younger man continue to slowly walk towards the tower, he began to wonder just how much Shan had been holding back. Once this battle was over, Gar made a promise to himself to spar with the Jetii no-holds-barred. He needed to see just how powerful the young man was, and confirm if what his mother had hinted at was possible.

But before that, he would enjoy the chance to fight beside Shan.

Gar leaned out from behind his cover, and as the fire aimed at Shan increased – indicating one of the repeating blaster cannons had targeted him – he took aim at a Death Watch trooper who was focused on the Jetii. Even as Shan continued to calmly walk forward, apparently unconcerned that a blaster cannon was firing on him, Gar lined up his shot, overcharged the chamber and fired off a bolt. The Death Watch trooper was sent spiralling back; his head bending unnaturally as it struck a bench. Gar quickly returned to his cover, aware that the trooper's squad mates would quickly turn their attention to his location. Something proven as bolts slammed into the cover of the wall, sending chunks flying and forcing Gar to move deeper into cover.

The second the fire at his cover lessened, Gar popped up, hoping to help Shan by taking out another Death Watch trooper. However, that intention was lost as he saw three rockets streak in from Shan's right. He opened his mouth to scream a warning, only for all three rockets to explode, showering the area of the plaza where Shan had been standing in intense flames.

"Di'kutla Jetii," someone else muttered over the squad's comms. While that person likely thought Shan had died doing something typically stupid for a Jetii, Gar wasn't so sure. Shan may be a Jetii, but he always seemed to move with purpose. Shan would've known Death Watch would've focused their attention on him as he stepped out, but that shift in focus by the aruetiie would allow gar and his fellow Protectors to move.

This was proven true as the flames and smoke of the explosions began to dissipate, and Shan was standing there; apparently unharmed. His cloak and robes appeared covered in dirt, while his hair was a few shades darker, yet apart from that, nothing seemed out of place.

The sensors in Gar's helmet detected movement (though that likely was from someone else in the battlenet as his focus was on Shan), on the third floor of the tower. Gar focused the sensors there, getting a zoomed-in image of two Death Watch troopers readying two more rockets. While Shan had survived the first barrage, and likely would do the same again, Gar wasn't going to let them take the shot. Quickly he aimed at the pair – using the sensors in his helmet to gain a boost to his accuracy and snapped off a shot. The bolt flew past Shan, missing him by perhaps a dozen hand's widths and sailed forward to slam into a launcher. The rocket inside exploded, killing both troopers in the explosion, with one unlucky soul sent flying from the third floor and ending up impaled on a railing just outside the tower's lobby.

"DEATH WATCH!"

Gar froze as, somehow, Shan's voice echoed around the entire plaza. If he didn't trust his mental defences, Gar would've sworn the Jetii was projecting his voice directly into his mind. More likely, Shan was using the Force to enhance his voice, and it must've carried to every corner of the plaza – and the surrounding buildings – as the rate of fire from both sides suddenly decreased.

"THIS IS YOUR ONLY CHANCE. SURRENDER NOW!" Shan added, making all blaster fire cease.

Shan started walking once more. His path clearly the lobby of the tower. That movement seemed to be a signal for the battle to resume as over a half dozen rockets came hurtling towards Shan from within the building. Gar moved on instinct to target one of the rockets even as the battlenet informed him others in his unit were doing the same.

However, before anyone could fire on a rocket, Shan thrust out both his arms and seven rockets froze in mid-air. No, they didn't freeze as Gar could still see their engines were active. Yet none of the rockets were able to move closer to the Jetii. Well, not moving quickly as the sensors in Gar's helmet logged that they were moving, but at a snail's pace, shuddering as they went.

Gar was so shocked by this that his focus slipped off of the fight as he viewed first-hand a feat that he'd only ever heard rumours about. His lapse was broken a second later as one, then both repeating blaster cannons opened fire, reminding him of the others on the battlefield. Yet, just as before, the bolts did nothing to Shan; instead slamming into an invisible barrier.

Gar focused his helmet's scanners on Shan and saw that while the younger man appeared comfortable, his fingers were beginning to shake. Likely the strain from holding back that many missiles while raising a barrier to protect against the cannon fire was putting a strain on him. While that gave Gar an idea of Shan's limits, it wasn't overly comforting as it was a limit beyond what anything short of a platoon-strength fireteam could bring to bear. And, provided he survived this, Shan would only grow more powerful in the years ahead.

"Target those cannons." Gar called into his comms. Yes, he was overstepping his authority, but there was no way he wasn't going to help a fellow Mandalorian, Jetii or not. Yet, even as he brought his rifle to bear on the lobby, his sensors informed him that the missiles were losing thrust. With them being short-ranged ordinance, that made sense, but it would more than likely allow Shan to do something with the now u powered explosives.

Shan swept both arms towards the lobby, and Gar could only blink as all seventeen missiles were flung in that direction.

Instinctively, Gar ducked down as a massive fireball erupted from the lobby. The ground shook, though not enough to cause Gar to stumble. While powerful, even twice that many rockets wouldn't have been able to cause that kind of tremor. That meant that they'd either impacted something that boosted the explosion, or Shan had a way to increase their explosive yield. Gar silently prayed it was the former because he'd never heard about Jetii – or their splinter group the Sith – being able to do such things. If they could, then a single properly trained Jetii (like Shan) would be a literal one-being army.

As the tremors subsided, Gar peered over the top of his cover to see the aftermath. The lobby was in flames, and both cannons were gone. It was hard for his sensors to determine if anything was still alive in the inferno, but they could detect the remains of at least two Death Watch troopers on the steps leading to the lobby. Though the only reason the sensors couldn't be sure was that the bodies were in pieces and still burning.

"All units prepare t…" the words of one of the Protector commanders came over the battlenet, only to be suddenly stopped as Shan surged forward. If not for the inbuilt sensors in his helmet, all Gar would've seen was a blur. Even then, he struggled to follow Shan's movements as the Jetii propelled himself forward at a speed Gar could never hope to match.

Several blaster bolts came flying towards Shan, yet none hit him. Haran, the Jetii didn't even bother blocking them with that invisible barrier of his. He simply sped past them, and even as the first few bolts stuck the duracrete tiling of the plaza, Shan was at the entrance of the tower.

Several gasps came through the battlenet as Shan ignited his blade; the blade shape of it standing out easily against the blazing remains of the lobby. A pair of Death Watch troopers surged out of the flames, though before Gar could even scan them to see if they were injured from the explosion or not, Shan had moved forward.

A head bounced down the steps, joined less than a moment later by the upper half of the other trooper's body. Gar's helmet was (only just) able to process Shan's movement but even then, it had happened too quickly for Gar's brain to process.

As he started to understand what had happened, Shan vanished into the flames. A few seconds later, three bodies came hurtling out. As they bounced on the steps – inadvertently knocking the head between them like a ball – Gar confirmed the trio were Death Watch. Gar noticed that all appeared to have their limbs – or most of them, as one was missing a hand – but his focus was on making sure they couldn't get up.

He opened fire with his rifle on the trio, quickly joined by fire from Rook's location. That seemed to be the signal for the battle in the plaza to resume, though Gar noticed that without incoming fire from the lobby, the Protectors had the upper hand. If they were quick and efficient, they'd be able to surround and eliminate the remaining members of the Watch before they could escape into the city and do damage elsewhere.

The trio outside the lobby all fell – the sheer amount of incoming fire made sure they never had a chance – even as two more bodies were flung out of a window on the first floor. Gar shifted his aim to those two – even as he realised Shan was going likely going to clear the entire tower single-handedly – only for his helmet sensors to alert him of a new threat behind.

He dropped down, making sure his cover protected him from incoming fire from the plaza, and brought his rifle to bear on the corner of a nearby street. The sensors had someone at the corner though they hadn't stepped forward.

Gar snapped off a shot and caught the faintest of feminine grunts from the corner.

"Shab, I'm friendly, ok?" A voice called out. Gar recognized it, but he couldn't place who it was instantly. Still, that moment of recognition was enough for him to release some of the gentle pressure he had on his trigger. Not enough that he couldn't fire off a shot if this was a ruse, but enough that he wouldn't make a mistake and accidentally shoot a potential ally.

"BO?" Rook shouted, letting Gar know who was there. "Me'shab you doing?"

"Helping Cameron." Bo-Katan called back as she came around the corner. While Gar was confused as to why the woman was here – he'd been under the impression that, the celebration aside, she wasn't overly friendly with Shan – at least she had the sense to stay low. She crouched and moved towards his cover quickly, which made sense as it was the closest.

"That's Bo-Katan Kryze, commander." Rook explained to Roprun over the comms. "Last I knew she was in the city with Naz Vizsla."


"Kryze." He said in acknowledgement even as Roprun grunted in confirmation of Rook's explanation of who the newcomer was. Gar shifted around, readying himself to return his attention to the battle in the plaza.

"Saxon." The redhead replied. "Where is he?"

"In the tower." Gar replied before standing and firing off a burst at a location the battlenet indicated a threat was located. "Walked straight in there, not a care in the world. Got balls of beskar that one." He added as he ducked down.

"Haar'chak!" Kryze cursed as their cover to some return fire. "I want a recording of it." She demanded a moment later.

Gar began to respond, only for a flash of bright light to erupt in his periphery, followed closely by a heavy rumble. This one wasn't as violent as the previous one, but it did lead to another lull in the exchange of fire.

He popped his head over his cover for a moment – and saw that Kryze did the same, which was jareor as the woman didn't have a helmet – then down again. He saw that several of the windows about a third of the way up the building had been blown out from the force of an explosion coming from inside.


He pulled up a feed from someone else in the unit and watched as a faint black object surged across the opening where the transparisteel window used to be. The object - which Gar knew was Shan's lightsaber - moved like a viper, striking other larger objects, which Gar took to be members of Death Watch, then fading into the smoke and dust. Several bodies were flung out of the opening like pieces of refuse. Sometimes, Gar noted with detached interest, they were indeed in literal pieces as they slammed hard into the ground below.

Gar considered saying something to Kryze, but his attention was drawn to movement to his right. His helmet had movement there, and the battlenet confirmed it was hostile.

A few quick hand gestures let Kryze know what was up, and he raised his rifle to engage the incoming Death Watch. Kryze, though, had other ideas, and before he could ask her why she hadn't aimed her pistol properly, she'd tossed a small object towards the threat. The faint beeping from that object let Gar know what she'd thrown, and he braced himself before a moment later a corner of the building exploded.

Two bodies scurried to get clear of the now collapsing building, leaving them both exposed. Something Gar and his unit had no issues with exploiting.

As they ceased firing at the now, unmoving troopers, Kryze turned to him, a slightly deranged smirk on her face. "I want a copy of your battle logs."

Gar grunted as his helmet located his next target. "I suspect you'll have to get in line."

Gar was sure that, once Death Watch had been handled, many would be wanting to review the footage of this battle. Specifically, to see what one of the two Mando'ade Jetii had done to turn the tide of the battle all but single-handedly.

However, he was once more looking forward to the day when he could enter a battle at Shan's side. Deep in his bones he knew that, when it came, that no matter if they won or lost the battle would echo throughout history, and he planned to make sure his name was remembered with honour in the battle-rolls of his clan.


… …


… …
Hego Damask's POV


As he sat, seemingly helpless at the far end of the conference table (like everything he'd seen on the planet the table was spartan but functional in nature) the Munn known to the galaxy as Hego Damask was infuriated.

Oh, externally, he appeared calm; or he did if you couldn't see a few nervous ticks such as an inability to sit still or long, narrow fingers gently drumming against the table. Those little ticks would've led anyone who saw Damask to think he was nervous about how effective his Sun Guard unit was at defending him against the massive assault on the tower.

Yet internally, Darth Plagueis was irritated.

While he would normally use such anger and frustration to focus his mind, he was slowly reaching a point where he considered he might have to deal with these pitiful fools personally. However, he still maintained a durasteel grip on his restraint, since he knew that indulging in such reckless and fervent immersion in the Dark Side was what often led to Sith becoming unstable, and the purview of trained and bloodthirsty assassins, such as the one Sidious was grooming. A true Dark Lord of the Sith was above such an undisciplined loss of control and knew how to use their anger and hate in more efficient ways to maximum effect. However, the longer this siege continued, the more he felt handling the situation himself would sate the anger, even if it meant a tedious clean up to ensure there was nothing that could be traced back to him.

However, if it came to that, then so be it. Plagueis had already scoped out the tower to be aware of where the various visual and audio recording devices were. He also knew where the central security office was as if he did have to handle this situation personally, he couldn't leave any possible records that could link Hego Damask to the Sith. With every room and floor having a separate circuit for their security systems, the control room was the only easy point of weakness for him to target if he needed to handle the potentially annoying, but well-designed security system.

Within the conference room he was currently waiting in, the sensors – both visible and hidden – were already down (a simple matter for one such as he), so if he could contain his reveal to this place, handing the fallout would be easier. He had, for now, left the simpler audio recorders. If he needed to defend himself, he had several schemes where a recording of his interaction with the attackers would be beneficial to maintaining his cover. Should the attackers possess internal recorders in their helmets…well, then a display of Teras Kasi wouldn't be too suspicious - if unexpected for a Muun -, as long as he allowed himself to be suitably challenged by them.

Still, even with the preparation that he had set up in this room, Plagueis was devising, altering, and scrapping various plans, contingencies, and strategies. The Mandalorians, while much reduced from the time of Darth Bane, held the potential to be useful pawns in the Grand Plan, reclaiming the role that they had unwittingly filled at various points in galactic history for the Sith. Yes, the current ruling faction were nothing more than Lothal cats pretending to be Ralltiir tigers, but from what he'd seen, been told, heard and was now experiencing, a large portion of the populace still maintained their spine. Their obvious – and justified – rage at the Republic and Jedi was something that could be easily sculpted to suit his uses.

Yet, while his various plans regarding the locals were useful for keeping his mind sharp and his plans fresh, they paled in comparison to the potential that lay in his true reason for being on this backwater world.

When Sidious had first brought the descendent of Revan to his attention, Plagueis had been unnerved, if only for a short while. Darth Revan was one of the most powerful Sith of the Old Republic, displaying a deep understanding and mastery of both the Force, and its applications in war. His knowledge and methods were met with such success, that his holocron's teachings were used as the base for Darth Bane's Rule of Two; a system that had allowed the Sith to grow more and more powerful in the shadows while the Republic and Jedi grew weak. Thus, having a direct descendent of Revan appear – and at roughly the same time he and Sidious had attempted the Great Experiment with the Force – was unsettling.

Learning that the boy was being trained by Master Dooku, a man who was as anti-republic as it was possible to be while still wearing the label of Jedi, was an unexpected boon. Plagueis had once considered Dooku as an apprentice before selecting Sidious, and even now still had plans that could use the unusual Jedi to further the Grand Plan; plans that only needed for Dooku to leave the Order to be enacted. Though the knowledge that this child of Revan was also being taught by Master Fay; a one of the most obscured, revered, and least-known Jedi Masters in both the galaxy at large and in the Force, tempered some of Plagueis' approval of the boy's instruction.

For a time Plagueis had been willing to leave the child alone, though he ensured that Sidious and other agents continued to monitor him. When Sidious had reported the child had sparred with Grandmaster Yoda and had shown far more abilities than had been revealed before, Plagueis' interest increased. To any with a sound mind, it was clear the boy was deliberately holding himself back against his peers. While to most that would seem like a very Jedi thing to do, Sidious – and Plagueis once the reasoning was explained to him – felt differently.

His apprentice believed that the boy was hiding his abilities to allow him to gain allies and power within the Order. This theory took on more credence when, in a day that Plagueis could admit was one of those rare moments when he was truly caught unawares – Sidious discovered the child had increased his midi-chlorian count to unprecedented levels. Before, the boy held potential on-par with himself and Sidious - at least before He'd begun his experimentation with midi-chlorian manipulation, but now…

Well, it was one of the reasons Plagueis had come to this backwater of a planet.

Now, an increase in one's midi-chlorian count didn't automatically lead to a better ability to control the Force – or be led around by it like many Jedi were – but it did mean that a higher innate potential existed. And the Jedi, in their infinite wisdom (Plagueis had to suppress a sneer whenever he thought of those two things together) had done nothing with the boy.

Plagueis, though, was far more aware of what that count increase could mean and was eager to see if his hypothesis was correct. Despite that, he knew that kidnapping the child wasn't the way to approach the issue, since both the boy and his masters were far too high-profile. Yet, while he'd been considering just how to meet the boy discreetly, the child had, in another moment that caught Plagueis unaware, bent the Force to his will and screamed out through it, letting his anger and pure, undiluted hatred bleed into the Force.

Plagueis had savoured that moment, much the same way that Corellian connoisseurs would sample a new wine; both allowing themselves to enjoy the taste, while also staying alert for inconsistencies and weaknesses as possible areas of improvement. He wished he could've seen the faces of the Jedi High Council as they felt the wave of fury wash over them. Because of that, and the need to directly see what part the child would play in the Grand Plan, and if it was one that needed to be removed before the Plan could commence, he had travelled to this world under the guise of Hego Damask seeking to invest in Mandalmotors.

However, moments after arriving he learnt that his target of interest was off-world. If not for the fact he'd also been informed soon after that the boy would be returning in a week or two, Plagueis would've wrapped up the negotiations regarding Damask Holdings investing in Mandalmotors in short order. He'd later learnt that the boy had travelled to the homeworld of Clan Ordo at the invitation of the clan leader, suggesting that the boy was indeed beginning to cultivate alliances of his own.

Still, even if this incident today prevented him from meeting the boy, the trip hadn't been a total loss. Meetings with the CEO of Mandalmotors and its subsidiaries had gone well. Provided that the new leadership of the company – he had sensed the CEO Arde Yomaget die perhaps twenty minutes previously – honoured the agreements he'd reached with the old head, Damask Holdings would invest several billion credits in a joint venture with Mandalmotors. While the company didn't have anywhere near the size or capacity of well-known shipyards like Fondor or Rendili, it was a solid, profitable company that had proven its stability for several centuries. That it was on a world and sector where Cameron Shan had spent a year building bridges, was a helpful secondary benefit.

Another benefit of those meetings was being allowed to view a recording of Shan's hunt. While Yomaget had been reluctant to allow him to view the recording due to some cultural issues, Plagueis had successfully been able to purchase a recording from a Mandalorian who had attended the celebration feast and viewing. While the recording didn't show when or why Shan had dominated the Force to his will, it was still an interesting viewing. Shan's desire to prove himself to these people would be ridiculous if one didn't consider the potential the Mandalorians held. Yes, they were a scattered and damaged culture, but at the height of their power, they were a threat to rival the Republic.

From that perspective, Shan's desire to fight a greater krayt dragon while not actively using the Force – he certainly used it, though Plagueis was impressed the boy kept such instances to a minimum to limit suspicion – made sense. And, while he would always prefer subtlety and coercion to make his alliances, Plagueis could respect Shan for managing to kill such a fearsome beast. It was a testament to both Dooku's training and the boy's innate potential that he could manage such a feat.

As was the surge in the Force Plagueis had sensed around twenty minutes previously.

At that time, just after the seventh member of his twelve-member unit of Sun Guards fell to the terrorist onslaught, Plagueis had felt a pulse of formidable power through the Force. The pulse wasn't directed at him specifically and was simply the standard location detection that all Force users employed. Even so, when it brushed up against his cloak of concealment – the ability all Sith mastered to hide their presence from the Jedi – for a moment, it was strong enough that Plagueis was momentarily concerned that his cloak would be detected.

After it passed, Plagueis was able to determine, by process of logical elimination, that it was Shan who had sent out the surge. Why he couldn't say, but the natural researcher that lay at the base of his entire being quickly began to consider tests and projects he'd need to conduct to determine the limit and usefulness of such power. Cameron Shan was shaping up to be a truly fascinating study in his own right; even ignoring Plagueis' burning curiosity to learn how the boy had so massively increased his connection to the Force.

While Sidious was still central to the Grand Plan, perhaps there was a role in that plan for Shan; one where his potential to dominate the Force could be turned into an advantage for the Sith.

Plagueis suspected that Shan had used this surge to find someone within the city. From there, the only valid hypothesis was that his 'friends' were in danger, and he was moving to help them. Said friends, depending on their connections to local figures of importance – Plagueis knew Shan was familiar with the youngest daughter of the ruling duke of the sector – then that might be a vector of approach he could use (as both Damask and Plagueis) to gain a connection with Shan.

Wanting to confirm this hypothesis, Plagueis had sent faint, infinitesimal tendrils into the Force. This was done more to avoid detection and risk his cover rather than worry about the threat a Jedi Padawan (even a potentially powerful one) might pose. Shan had shown himself to be far more intelligent and discerning in his actions than most of the typical plebeian beings being groomed to become Jedi. His first act upon detecting Plagueis would likely be to call for backup, which would possibly throw away his long-crafted anonymity.

From those tendrils, he'd sensed a brief spike of anger, followed shortly after by a Shan bending the Force to his demands. Why it was used, Plagueis couldn't say, but the fact the spike of anger remained throughout this – even if it was seemingly ignored by Shan – was enough to hint at the possibility the boy could be turned from the Jedi. A possibility that grew when, in one particularly interesting moment, Plagueis felt Shan channel his anger and use the Force in an aggressive manner.

The death of two more of his Sun Guard – including one outside his room – forced Plagueis to draw back his tendrils. It was also why he was now at the far side of the conference room, as far from the door as he could be. He had slowly been feeling them die one by one, almost always coinciding with a barely discernible tremor running through the building. Explosives most likely, and powerful ones too considering that this building was designed to withstand an orbital bombardment. True, Plagueis' senses were boosted to the nth degree by the power flowing through him. But it was still an impressive accomplishment. Plagueis couldn't picture one of his Sun Guards being taken down by any less, even if the group he'd brought weren't the best of the best.

With only one remaining guard outside the room facing a group of highly skilled warriors on par with the Sun Guard, it was only a matter of time until they breached the door to this room. Hence why the Dark Side was lapping eagerly at Plagueis and enticing him to lash out and show these imbeciles who they were daring to assault.

He stood and moved gracefully behind the chair furthest from the door. Carefully, he reached into the Force, cautious of alerting Shan to his presence, and slowly demanded its servitude. As the power coalesced around him, he felt the elation and excitement of the Dark Side as it anticipated the glorious bloodshed soon to come. This was the power of the Force made manifest, though unlike many Sith before him, Plagueis was the one in control, not the Dark Side. The urges to inflict pain, to dominate the will of another, to inspire a being's primal fears; he dominated these urges to serve his own purposes and whims, not the other way around.

His thoughts sharpened as the impulses the Dark Side fed upon submitted themselves to him, helping focus his mind on what was to come. The Force began to hum, feeding strength and power into his limbs, sharpening his senses to an unnatural degree, readying his body to spring into action.

Only to turn in surprise as he felt another tremor, stronger this time as it was much closer at hand. As he turned his attention once more to the hallway beyond the door, he felt the lifeforce leave his final door guard – another was several floors below, but his ability to sense them in the Force was diminishing – though not before taking out one of the four outside the room.

The three remaining Mandalorians were easy for him to sense through the Force. Two were brimming with deliciously potent rage that, while he could, Plagueis allowed that rage to bleed into him, drawing further power from his soon-to-be attackers. The third, however, was different. There was rage there yes, but it was more subdued and not directed towards him. Plagueis could easily sense the altered mind of this third individual, but why that would be the case wasn't something the Force was willing to divulge. Still, it could give him a possible angle to work once the three entered the room; or at least an angle to pretend to play if he was able to avoid breaking cover to kill these fools. As they were preparing to enter the room, Plagueis began implanting and tweaking enough arrogant and prideful emotions needed to cause the fools to waste some time grandstanding. With luck, he could still manipulate the situation to his advantage.

The door to the room slid open, and the three Mandalorians became visible, though mainly as silhouettes against the darkened corridor outside. The first to enter did so with pistols drawn. Those quickly focused on him as Plagueis slapped down the desire of the Dark Side for him to lash out at the Mandalorians instantly. He felt there was more to be gained by trying to draw them out in conversation, and while not a significant threat to a Dark Lord, the Force was warning him that this one was the leader and the most dangerous of the trio. To be on the safe side, he continued to feed all three of them the cocktail of arrogant emotions which would manoeuvre himself into a more tactically advantageous position.

The second to enter was female, and the source of the strangely muted/misdirected fury, with her sweeping the room carefully to ensure no threat was hiding in a corner. Through the Force, Plagueis perceived her as less of a threat than the apparent leader, though still greater than the third Mandalorian (or any other Mandalorian he'd examined during his time on the planet.) The third member of the trio, and another male, stayed outside, acting as a bouncer.

"Your plot to seize control has failed," The leader of the trio announced loudly as Plagueis saw his grip tighten on his pistols. "Never again will any Mando'ade ever allow an aruetii to gain a foothold on Manda'yaim!"

Thanks to his master's meddling, Plagueis' ability to sense the future was all but destroyed. Yet, even then, he could tell this man wouldn't just execute him. No, thanks to his mental probes, the Mandalorian would likely feel the need to gloat at the 'inherent superiority' of his people – a falsehood given how far the culture had fallen from the influence and prestige they once held in the galaxy – and/or disparage Plagueis' own species for their apparent shortcomings.

"Nor should they." Plagueis replied in a tone that seemed calm but had a hint of faux concern embedded in it. "I merely wished to discuss a possible investment with the likely former leadership of this company that would've been beneficial to both of our companies, and likely Mandalore itself." He continued even as he sensed a subtle shift in the Force. "Though with the likely death of said leadership, possibly at your very hands, I suppose such an arrangement is no longer possible."

The leader grunted before he responded. "Yomaget fought well, but he had grown weak, honing his skills with words and coin instead of with mind and body. His death will serve a purpose in helping me unify the sector under strong, centralized leadership."

Internally Plagueis chuckled at the misplaced arrogance of the man, though externally he appeared pensive. "If that is the case, then I do hope that once this… situation is resolved, I will be allowed to depart the planet peacefully." He lifted an arm slowly towards his face, wanting to draw attention to his mask. "I am no threat to you or your goals, and I'm not looking to cause offence."

"Your mere presence already has, aruetii." The leader replied and Plagueis suspected the word meant something akin to an outsider. "Just as the training of Jetii by our warriors has. Mandalore is not some world that kneels at the altar of the Senate. You, the Jetii, and everyone else need to be reminded of that." He continued, raising his blaster pistols towards Plagueis.

"Please, I'm sure we can come to an agreement that doesn't carry the need for mindless bloodshed." Plagueis suggested as he raised his hands in what would appear a gesture of surrender. Though, if this maniac didn't accept Plagueis' suggestion to avoid carnage, those same hands were already drawing the Force to them.

The leader chuckled and flicked one pistol-holding hand back, over his shoulder. "Sadly for you, I quite enjoy the bloodshed." He remarked, drawing a chuckle from the bouncer.

Plagueis tensed, readying himself for the moment when he would need to act. Though a strange sensation within the Force, stilled him. And that was followed by spotting a subtle shimmer appear on a wall outside the room, directly behind the bouncer.

That third Mandalorian turned, likely due to technology in his helmet and armour detecting the strange occurrence. He brought his rifle round, only to have to shift his movement when he (and Plagueis) saw, and everyone heard the ignition of a lightsaber.

The saber was barely visible against the dark background, with only a white edging giving away where the blade was. The bouncer instinctively released his hold on the blaster rifle and whipped his forearm up defensively, blocking the lightsaber with his gauntlet. The slight colouration shift as the armour heated allowed Plagueis to determine that at least one of the insurgents – though likely all – were wearing armour at least partially composed of beskar.

Sparks flew from the bouncer's forearm as the lightsaber scraped down the arm, slashing through the weaponized gauntlet Mandalorians were known for. Those sparks, sending flecks of multi-coloured superheated particles throughout the hallway, illuminated the room enough that Plagueis was able to make out the figure that had emerged from the wall. This was Cameron Shan, Plagueis' primary reason for coming to this cursed planet.

The boy was tall for his age, and unlike most Jedi, wore a cloak over his robes. Also unusually, his hair was longer than what was normally accepted for Jedi Padawans. though what drew Plagueis' attention was Shan's eyes. As the lightsaber pulled back and the bouncer suddenly jerked in an unnatural way, Plagueis saw that Shan's amber-green eyes were as cold as the frozen surface of Mygeeto. Either the boy was able to steel his emotions for combat – an unusual feat for a Jedi Padawan – or he took no enjoyment from combat.

The latter hypothesis was proven wrong as the bouncer fell, one knee dropping lower than the other. This was clearly the result of being pulled there by the Force, though Shan hadn't made any grand gesture of doing that suggesting a control over telekinesis that most Jedi lacked. Plagueis felt Shan's excitement, desire and – most importantly – a strong and growing sense of fury as he drove an elbow into the bottom of the bouncer's armoured chin. While the boy was doing an exceptional job of not advertising those feelings, the fact he held them while fighting – and likely after slaughtering his way up to this room, if the constant stream of death Plagueis had been sensing was any indication – suggested to Plagueis the boy might be turned to the Dark Side.

The strike forced the bouncer's head back, exposing his neck. Thanks to the Force, Plagueis was able to track the rapid movement of one of Shan's hands as it reached out and gripped the throat. An accelerated twist – boosted by the Force – resulted in the bouncer all but spinning around while still kneeling. That brought the bouncer's front back to facing Plagueis; and made the kneeling man into a temporary shield for Shan.

By this point the two Mandalorians in the room had refocused their attention on Shan and had begun firing off blaster bolts. However, most hit their disorientated compatriot and the few that didn't were easy for Shan to avoid with the barest of effort. The whole sequence, from elbow to the chin to body shield only took a few seconds, but Plagueis was impressed. Very few Jedi would ever consider using another being for protection – a fact that often made their deaths occur soon after – though Plagueis felt the whole thing was a touch theatrical. Though since it drew the Mandalorians' attention from him onto Shan, he couldn't deny its effectiveness.

Just as the bouncer started to counter the hold, Plagueis was able to see Shan's lightsaber move. The blade slid clean through whatever armour the bouncer had around his neck – obviously not beskar – and as the head slid forward, Plagueis had to fight to stop his curiosity showing. While Jedi weren't against killing, the removal of a head was an extreme method for them to use to end a duel; doubly so when their opponent was kneeling in front of them. When coupled with the complete lack of concern at what'd he done on Shan's face, it made it clear to Plagueis that Shan had killed men before. Additionally, it showed he had no issues with killing in combat or acting in a brutal manner, suggesting that much like his ancestor, Shan may have an inclination towards the Dark Sith. That was a possible avenue to have the boy ostracized by the Jedi, then turned to the Sith; though it also increased the threat he could pose to the Grand Plan.

Plagueis wondered if that behaviour was entirely natural, or the result of an earlier trauma combined with the more sociopathic tendencies displayed by Dooku. Indeed, there were hints of the older Jedi' mannerisms in how Shan moved.

The bolts from the two remaining Mandalorians lessened, though Plagueis was able to see that was more because they were now moving than because of the death of their compatriot. The pair were spreading out, looking to flank Shan when the now headless body fell. Yet, unlike what those two were expecting, the body didn't fall. Plagueis could sense the boy using the Force to keep it upright; allowing him to maintain his mobility while still having it available as a shield.

Again, so very un-Jedi-like.

Even as they moved, the two remaining Mandalorians shifted their fire, trying to aim where the head of their compatriot had been. Yet, Plagueis felt another shift in the Force and those bolts impacted harmlessly with a Force barrier; one that extended out to cover Shan's flanks where the headless body couldn't function as a shield. This time Plagueis' brow did rise. While the generation of a barrier wasn't beyond a Padawan, Shan had done so without any obvious gesture. That spoke to a skill with the ability that many older Jedi lacked, and while a generally defensive ability, Plagueis knew that it had a use to even the Sith.

Once more the rate of fire lessened, and the faintest of movements from the leader drew Plagueis attention to him. He holstered his pistols, though the female increased her rate of fire to prevent Shan from taking advantage of the change. Moments later, the man had raised one gauntlet, and with the other hand made flames leap from it.

Shan's barrier was engulfed in flames, which seemed to be the signal for the female to move. She moved forward quickly, holstering her pistols before Plagueis saw her raise her now empty hands. He blinked in surprise as engaging in hand-to-hand with a Force user was not at all a common occurrence. There were only a few cultures in the galaxy that had come up with effective counters, and he was eager for the opportunity to study one up close.

The flames receded as the female reached striking distance, and while Plagueis wasn't surprised to see Shan unharmed, it was still good to see. Mainly because Shan defeating these warriors allowed Plagueis to observe the boy in action without having to risk his cover. The distinctive blade of Shan's lightsaber thrust forward, aiming for the female's throat. The female shifted her arm up, letting the blade slide harmlessly against her vambraces, which were clearly made of beskar as they held against the lightsaber.

Shan didn't appear too concerned by this development. That wasn't unexpected from someone who's spent a year training with these people. He took a step forward, stepping inside the female's guard and with the fluidity of movement that spoke of his years of training, slid his blade away from the block while thrusting his free hand forward a fraction.

That gesture sent the female flying back with such acceleration that Plagueis was forced to duck. A huge crash came from behind him, and he glanced back to see the female had been thrown into the wall of the room.

A surge of anger burst through the Force and Plagueis saw the remaining Mandalorian tense. "Jetii!" The man all but spat out. "You will fall by my hands!"

Shan smirked even as Plagueis had to fight off an urge to scoff and roll his eyes. This Mandalorian was quickly devolving into one of those villains that were popular in children's stories available over the Holonet.

"Your troops said much the same thing." Shan retorted as he took a step back. "I have to say that it gets a bit repetitive after a while."

Plagueis felt the Force subtly shift and he knew the barrier had been disengaged even as he watched the boy adopt the opening stance of Makashi. That wasn't unexpected as Sidious had informed him that the boy was skilled in the form and was being trained by Master Dooku. However, the relaxed position of the blade, as Plagues expected, resulted in the Mandalorian's anger flaring once again. "Shame they were about as useful as an Ewok in a blizzard." Shan added with a smirk, further inflaming his opponent's anger.

With no hint from the Force that Shan was attempting to empower his words in a display of Dun Möch, Plagueis was impressed, although slightly disappointed that the boy was attempting to use mere taunting as a strategy in his fighting, though he wondered if enraging the Mandalorian was the best approach. Everything he could sense from the human adult hinted that he took strength from that rage. An almost Sith-like quality that was sadly wasted on the fool. Hearing that the lower-level warriors within the building hadn't been able to stop Shan wasn't unexpected; he was here after all. Yet, the casual dismissal of them, along with the arrogant tone was. Again, this suggested a shared inclination towards more natural behaviour like his ancestor, or that Dooku was having a greater effect on the boy's psyche than either Jedi had realised. Though Plagueis suspected it was a bit of both.

"You will find me more than capable of backing up my words." The Mandalorian growled out as he grabbed a long, slightly curved blade from a magnetic clamp on his back. "I will take great pleasure in mounting your head over the entrance of this tower and adding your lightsaber to my family's collection." He continued as the blade was brought into a fighting stance. As it moved in the light, Plagueis could see the distinctive ripples that signified the blade was made of beskar. That would make this fight a fraction more interesting to observe.

Shan's stance didn't shift, though Plagueis saw his eyes glance at the blade. Good. So the boy recognized the beskar for what it was. While seeing a Jedi's face when something was able to block a lightsaber was amusing under most circumstances, Plagueis was more interested in seeing how Shan fought than watching him die.

"AARGH!"

That roar came from behind Plagueis, and the Force warned him of a need to move. Keeping up his cover, he shuffled away from the hole in the wall just in time to avoid the enraged female as she came storming back into the room. Unlike before, the rage was no longer subdued, though Plagueis was easily able to sense confusion mixed in with it. Still, that didn't seem to be impairing the female as her focus locked on Shan.

She charged forward, and Shan shifted on his backfoot in preparation for the new assault vector. However, Shan's shift to the more vocal threat was a miscalculation as it left an opening for the male, which he took. Plagueis could see that, much like his master, the boy clearly favoured Makashi. Unlike Dooku, however, he had clearly not yet learned how to modify the Ysalamiri form to deal with multiple opponents.

The beskad thrust forward in a basic attack, which Shan was easily able to sidestep. He then leapt back to avoid a wild haymaker from the female. The leap back had cost him his stance though, and the male took advantage. Yet even with his stance unbalanced Shan was able to deflect the strike with the elegance of a skilled Makashi practitioner, then angle his blade forward to meet the still attacking female. Yet, in a move that caught both the boy and Plagueis unawares, the female reached out and grabbed the lightsaber blade.

A fraction of a second later, as Shan's brow rose, then furrowed in irritation, Plagueis realised that the female must be wearing a set of the Mandalorians' infamous Crushgaunts, designed to both enhance strength and resistant enough to allow her to grab the superheated blade of a lightsaber with no apparent ill-effects.

In that moment of confusion, the male struck. His blade thrust forward yet again. Shan tried to move to avoid the attack. However, with his lightsaber trapped, he couldn't evade properly; not if he wanted to maintain control of his weapon. The blade sunk into, then through Shan's upper right arm just below the shoulder, exiting the other side with a crunch of bone and a spray of blood.

Plagueis sighed as the female ripped the lightsaber from Shan's loosened grip. The boy had potential, but as his lightsaber was tossed away, Plagueis felt it was about to be squandered by his death. A waste of potential, but not one Plagueis would allow to concern him from this moment on.

Slowly, he altered his stance, and began to summon the Force to him, only to feel the Force begin to churn unexpectedly. Anticipating this new development, he braced himself before, a moment later, he and the two Mandalorians were driven back by a wave of Force energy that emanated from Shan.

While the wave had caught him unaware, he wasn't knocked over; only requiring a single step backwards to restabilize himself. The two Mandalorians however, were far less fortunate. Both were knocked off their feet, with the male slamming into the wall on one side of the room while the female was slammed into the edge of what remained of the table.

Before either could regain their footing, Plagueis felt a spike of anger through the Force as it bent to Shan's will. The female was suddenly lifted upwards with enough velocity that the lights in the roof shattered as she impacted them. As Plagueis watched, he felt yet another microtremor echo through the roof and walls upon impact, though even as that happened, the female was slammed back down into the table.

Plagueis was forced to duck and shield himself – purely to maintain the illusion that he was nothing more than a simple Munn businessman trying to earn a profit in the galaxy – as the table exploded upon the impact.

As the female was lifted upwards into the air again, Plagueis closed his eyes and took a moment to enjoy the pure, unadulterated rage and desire for retribution that was flowing out from Shan. Yet, as a flick of Shan's wrist sent the female careening towards the male Mandalorian, Plagueis sensed the boy begin to reign in that anger. However, Shan wasn't trying to ignore it, nor banish it. Instead, it felt as though he was trying to focus it; as if to draw strength from it, within the Force, Plagueis could sense the anger being directed towards the two Mandalorians.

The male was able to scramble just enough to avoid the inbound female, who collided with the wall behind her again. Plagueis thought he saw the flicker of a grin on Shan's face as, with a larger burst through the Force, the table in the centre of the room sped towards the woman. Just as she was rising to her feet, it collided squarely with her helmet, causing her neck to jerk around, and bouncing her head off of the wall. She slid to the floor and didn't move, her life force dimming in Plagueis' senses as she was knocked unconscious.

Another warning from the Force had Plagueis turn his attention back to the male in time to see him fiddle with one of his gauntlets. The next moment Plagueis was driven to one knee as the room was engulfed in loud, chaotic high-frequency sounds. Being a Munn, his aural perception was weaker than other races, though that was faint help with the mind-interfering patterns being generated by the sonic disruptor.

It seems that these Mandalorians had come expecting to fight a Jedi; or at least were prepared for such an eventuality. While the other weaponry they'd deployed were aimed at Shan, a sonic disruptor affected all Force users equally. Though Plagueis was grateful he hadn't yet broken his cover to reveal he was Force-sensitive, allowing him to channel a sliver of the Force to counter the disruption while the remaining Mandalorian – from who Plagueis could see ripples in the air generated by the sonic device – closed on Shan.

The boy had fallen to one knee – clearly hampered worse by the sounds due to his closer proximity and keener auditory senses – and was trying to cover his ears. However, with one arm badly wounded to the point of almost being useless, that was a failing proposition. The Mandalorian raised his other gauntlet, and a stream of condensed fire shot forth.

The flames engulfed Shan before Plagueis could even consider how the boy could counter them. If not for the boy's rage and pain screaming out through the Force, Plagueis' would've made the mistake of assuming he would soon be dead. However, that pain and fury wasn't because of the flames touching Shan's body. No, Plagueis could almost taste Shan's desire to brutalise the Mandalorian for continuing to hurt him.

Shifting from what remained of the chair he'd been using for cover, Plagueis came to a new vantage point to see that Shan had managed – if only barely – to slide his cloak over his arm; the arm that had been wounded earlier by the Mandalorian's blade. What caught him by surprise was that the cloak was withstanding the flames. He had thought the cloak was a simple way for the boy to emulate Master Dooku, but he now realised that it wasn't. Remembering the recording he'd reviewed several times, Plagueis suspected the cloak was made from the skin of the greater krayt dragon that Shan had killed. A Logical thing to do with skin that was prized for its damage resistance properties, though unexpected for a Jedi – especially a mere Padawan – to wear such a reminder of their kill.

Clearly, the boy was closer to both his Jedi masters than Plagueis or Sidious had anticipated. That would require further analysis to determine possible ways it could be exploited to further the Grand Plan. As would the fact the boy was only likely to grow more distant from the High Council with everything that had and was happening to him on this planet.

As the flames blasted against the cloak, Shan's anger continued to grow. Plagueis knew that, for all its special properties, the cloak would have a limit and he was curious to see what Shan would do; not just immediately after the cloak failed but how he'd win this battle.

The flames died out, which thanks to the Force, Plagueis was able to tell was due to the fuel cell running dry, and Plagueis had a fleeting moment to examine the cloak. It was now almost entirely black, though otherwise appeared undamaged, making Plagueis wonder if he could purchase some of the skin from Shan for analysis.

The male lunged forward, striking out with his blade even as his other gauntlet continued to emit the sonic pulses. While Plagueis was now able to withstand them, it appeared that being closer to the source – combined with his injury – was causing Shan some difficulty. The boy reacted slowly to the incoming attack, sliding back slightly while lifting the cloak towards the blade. Surprising Plagueis, the cloak held against the blade, or at least was able to divert the thrust enough that it missed Shan and guided the sharpened edge of the blade away from his body.

The Mandalorian growled and instantly switched his avenue of attack. He rolled his shoulder, twisted his wrist, and brought the blade down on Shan with a downward stroke. Yet, in the time it'd taken the man to do that, Shan had reached out with the Force and wrapped the cloak securely over and around his shoulder, upper arm, and elbow, fashioning an unconventional shield. The cloak again held, but the force of the blow was enough to force Shan to slide backwards and shift his footing to brace himself.

Plagueis felt a brief flicker in the Force, and then spotted Shan's lightsaber hilt slide up from the floor towards the boy. However, the Mandalorian turned in time to smack the hilt away with a foot. Likely, the movement was detected by sensors within his helmet.

Unbridled fury flared in Shan, and Plagueis enjoyed sensing it, though it only lasted a moment before Shan once more regained control of his emotions. Once more, the boy did something most other Jedi wouldn't and used that fury to focus his attention. Plagueis was impressed as it was something both he and Sidious did, but not something any Jedi would've been taught. While the way Shan did it was crude, it showed yet more promise in the boy's potential to further the Sith's plans.

The Mandalorian took a step towards Shan and lifted one hand from his blade. That hand reached forward, clearly to rip the cloak from Shan's arm, while the other moved the blade into a low guard position from which a quick attack was possible. However, just before the free hand reached the cloak, the familiar hiss of an igniting lightsaber cut through the sonic pulses and a flash of gold came around from Shan's back.

Plagueis saw that the boy now held a lightsaber shoto in his uninjured hand and wondered where the blade had come from. There didn't appear to be a second clip on the Jedi's belt for the blade, so it was likely secured behind his back; being hidden by the cloak. Not something a typical Jedi would do, but Plagueis was more than aware that Shan was far from typical of the delusional Jedi Order.

The lightsaber caught the beskar blade from underneath and near the tip giving the boy overwhelming leverage – Shan making use of his much lower stance to slide under the Mandalorian's guard – and pushed it up and towards the man. That forced the Mandalorian to take a few steps back to retain his balance, which generated a large enough gap between them that Shan was able to regain his footing.

Shan grimaced – possibly from the pain of the quick movement – as he slid into a loose Makashi stance. While he disdained lightsaber combat – even if he had mastered all seven forms to prove – Plagueis understood it served a purpose. Shan's stance was loose, likely due to both his injury and the shorter blade he was wielding. That made his height and reach disadvantage even greater, though the way the Force swirled around Shan, Plagueis was certain the boy could overcome those weaknesses.

Shan lunged forward unleashing a flurry of short slashes and precise thrusts, showing prodigious skill, for his age, with his chosen form. Though they succeeded in forcing the Mandalorian to go on the defensive, Plagueis noted while the velocities were technically proficient, they lacked finesse. It was almost as if he was watching a droid attempt the form: All skill, no style.

To Plagueis, driving the larger man back while wounded and wielding a shorter than normal blade was an impressive demonstration, yet he was more focused on how the boy was interacting with the Force. It was similar to the way other Jedi allowed the Force to guide them, but Plagueis sensed an undercurrent of anger being used to empower Shan's connection. An unusual approach, and one Plagueis was near certain would be unsuccessful in the long term given how diametrically opposed the two viewpoints were. Many before Shan had tried and failed. Oh sure, they were able to pull on both sides of the Force but pulling on both simultaneously as Shan was attempting was infinitely harder than simply having a foot in both camps.

However, as Shan continued his attack, he couldn't deny that the boy was doing far better than most newly minted Knights would do. Yes, the sheer textbook nature of his technique created flaws in his form that any true blademaster could easily exploit, but Shan's opponent, while quite skilled, was not a true blademaster and was neither fast enough nor skilled enough to be able to withstand the boy's speed and precision.

The Mandalorian was able to parry one of Shan's attacks and launch into a short flurry of his own. Though none came close to landing, their probing nature forced Shan to focus on the defence. Or at least it did, until Shan moved forward with a speed few in the galaxy could follow unaided – never mind match – stepped inside the Mandalorian's guard and twisted his wrist. The Mandalorian's helmet clearly allowed him to track the movement – something Plagueis was able to do through the Force, though even he would admit to being momentarily caught off-guard by a speed increase of that magnitude coming from a Padawan – and moved to counter, however his body couldn't match the speed needed.

Sparks flew as the tip of the lightsaber dug into one of the gauntlets, disabling the source of the Mandalorian's flamethrower with a small burst of fire. With unusual grace for one so young, Shan's blade seemed to dance up the beskar armour before biting into the mesh at the elbow. A flick of the wrist and the blade sliced clean through the joint, letting the now detached forearm bounce harmlessly off the floor.

Such a point of attack was more in keeping with a Jedi, but the fluidity of the attack impressed Plagueis. Yes, he was being trained in Makashi by Master Dooku, but he'd never seen one so young move with such ease.

The Mandalorian twisted awkwardly, trying to bring his blade around to behead Shan. The Jedi ducked and brought up his cloak-covered shoulder. Or he tried to, as the arm – badly wounded as it was – struggled to move and locked up. The beskar blade caught the cloak on the edge. Shan hissed as the cloak was severed and the blade ran down his arm with a large spurt of blood, exacerbating the earlier damage.

Even as he grimaced in pain, Shan was on the attack. As the Mandalorian's blade swung clear of his body, Shan thrust forward with his lightsaber, connecting with the Mandalorian's remaining forearm. Plagueis offered him a silent thank you as the accursed sonic pulses ceased as that weaponry on that gauntlet was disabled.

The Mandalorian took a step back, and struck once more from above, bringing his blade down in a powerful overhand chop. However, his pain had made him sloppy, and Shan instantly made him pay for it. Stepping in close and catching the man's downward strike on the shoto's blade near the hilt, he deftly redirected it towards the ground. He stepped on the beskad, moving further into his opponent's guard as he did so, his shoulder almost touching the Mandalorian's chest. His blade flowed up the beskad and traced over the armoured bracer in a shower of sparks before brutally taking it off at the elbow. Smoothly following through on the momentum, the blade then spun in a tight loop before Shan began a second twist that cleanly removed the head of his opponent. The body softly dropped to the floor as the helmet fell to the ground with a clatter, the remnants of the head dislodging slightly from the inside.

Plagueis blinked again in genuine surprise. That was not a move the Jedi condoned, in fact most Jedi considered Sai Cha a borderline Sith manoeuvre; certainly not one which would ever be used on an apparently defeated opponent. If other Jedi learnt of this, Shan would likely be heavily reprimanded, if not expelled from the Order. While this opened up some avenues for manipulation, Plagueis knew that if he revealed that, then any plans he had for ingratiating himself with the boy would fail before they could truly begin.

The battle over, Shan's shoulders slumped as he looked down at the severed head of the man he'd just killed. In that moment, Plagueis considered, and rejected, giving the boy the faintest of pushes through the Force to indulge in the violence he'd just unleashed. The Dark Side clearly hungered for it; however, the rational nature of his mind knew that would be an unnecessarily dangerous risk to take, not to mention premature even if it were to work. Killing the boy now would be child's play, but it would be a waste of a potential asset. An asset for which Plagueis was already considering new strategies for exploitation.

The moment passed and Shan took a deep breath. Plagueis felt the Force settle around him as the boy released his built-up anger. With the battle over, that was the sensible thing to do, even if some anger would likely help keep his mind focused through the pain from his shoulder that must be coming close to overwhelming him. A faint, blink-and-you'd-miss-it, smile crossed the boy's lips before he clipped his shoto onto his back (confirming there was a magnetic clip there.) A simple gesture and his main lightsaber returned to his hand and Plagueis felt a calming aura emanate from the boy. Like most Jedi, he clearly placed a great deal of importance in the tool; something that showed the hypocrisy of the Jedi's code and attachments.

Shan turned to face him, and Plagueis saw the boy's entire posture shift. Where before there was a warrior, now there was a wounded young man. His injured shoulder slumped, and he supported it with his good arm while the effects of the battle seemed to catch up with his body.

"Master Damask, my name is Cameron Shan." He paused and gave a weak nod of his head. That resulted in the remains of the cloak sliding from his arm, revealing a decent slice of the upper arm and shoulder had been removed by the beskar blade. "Are you unharmed?"

Plagueis allowed a weak chuckle to filter out through his mask. "I believe I should be asking you that, Master Jedi."

Shan chuckled as well, though it quickly ended as he grimaced. "Yeah. Though I'm not a Master." There was a pause as he whispered something to himself. "I'm a Padawan."

Plagueis stepped towards the Jedi, making sure to be overly mindful of his step to reinforce his persona. "Truly? Then I am highly impressed by your actions today. Without them, I fear I would be dead, and for that I am in your debt, young Jedi."

"All part of the job." Shan remarked with a strange smile and a lazy salute.

"Are you well?" He asked, showing concern for his supposed saviour while gesturing at the blood still seeping from the wound on Shan's shoulder.

Shan looked at the wound before closing his eyes. The Force swirled around the boy once more as a gentle silvery-blue light caressed the wound. While the skin didn't heal, or the missing muscle regrow – which was something very few Jedi were capable of without significant training – the blood flow slowed then stopped. Shan staggered a little as he opened his eyes.

"There. That'll hold for now, though I know they'll bitch at me about it." He remarked, his eyes drifting towards the darkened window.

"I-I've never seen a Jedi do that before." He commented slowly as he came closer. While he doubted the boy would think about the moment when he'd almost brute-forced his way through the cloak of the Force he used to hide his nature as a Sith, Plagueis needed to be careful. Raising the boy's suspicions was something he wished to avoid. No need to have the boy suspecting that he was more than he appeared until that moment was needed.

"It's not an easy thing, and there are many better than me at it." Shan replied before chuckling as he looked down at the bisected body. "My skills lend themselves more to causing wounds than healing them."

"For which, you have my eternal gratitude." Plagueis offered as he also looked down at the body. While that operative's actions had cost him a dozen Sun Guards, and likely the opportunity to invest in Mandalmotors, it had allowed him the chance to observe Shan at close quarters; and granted him an easy way to stay in contact with the boy. Overall, an acceptable, if pricey, cost.

"As I said, all part of the service." Shan slowly lifted his leg over the chest of the dead Mandalorian. "Now, I don't know about you, but I've had quite enough of Die Hard for one day."

Plagueis was confused about the reference, which made the confusion on his face genuine. "Indeed. Please, lead on young Jedi." He said, gesturing towards the room's original entrance.

As Shan turned and offered his back to him, Plagueis began to run through his strategies. Already he could see that some would be doomed to failure. Others however, had potential.

Yes, the boy was trained as a Jedi, and had elements of their weak-minded philosophy. However, the person he saw in combat today had the makings of, if not a powerful and charismatic Dark Lord leading and guiding the will of the rabble beneath them, then certainly a Sith Warrior on-par with those of the old empires. A general to lead their armies and command the projection of their power and authority. And as Sidious had convinced him, there were uses to having other Sith outside the Rule of Two to act on their behalf in furthering the Grand Plan.

Now all he needed to do was guide the boy down the path most beneficial to the Sith; the path that led to the fall of the Republic and the destruction of the Jedi Order once and for all.

… …



… …
A/N:
As always you can find me (and the backroom team who help with this) on Discord at:
For this series: Heart of the Force
For my ASOIAF story: Game of Kingdoms (Still under construction, so not much there yet)
In general:
Shiro's Gaming Omniverse

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Though regardless of whether you join the Discords, support me or leave a review, I hope that everyone who celebrates at this time of year, has a happy and festive time.
And of course;
May the Force be with you. Always.
Ok. I Hate being a dodgy downer. But this chapter is a prime example of my main gripe with the story.

You can not have a character who is incredibly powerful with a worlds magicka system that he can rip the engines clean off a sharship & stop 17 missiles mid air and redirect them back to their source.

Only to then have him struggle in single armed combat against a mortal enemy with zero skill in a worlds magicka system.

at any moment in that fight, with a single thought Cameron could have simply lifted that guy in the air & ripped all his limbs from his body. How in the hell our we expected to take fights like this seriously given how immensly powerful Camaron is confirmed to be?
 
You can not have a character who is incredibly powerful with a worlds magicka system that he can rip the engines clean off a sharship & stop 17 missiles mid air and redirect them back to their source.

Only to then have him struggle in single armed combat against a mortal enemy with zero skill in a worlds magicka system.

at any moment in that fight, with a single thought Cameron could have simply lifted that guy in the air & ripped all his limbs from his body. How in the hell our we expected to take fights like this seriously given how immensly powerful Camaron is confirmed to be?

Okay, this has come up so often before, I'm getting slightly annoyed by it, and it shows a slight lack of understanding of how the Force works. However, at the same time, I understand why it keeps coming up.

While Cam can draw on it quicker than most other Force users, it's not instantaneous. Time is needed to do so.
The speeds we see people move in the shows are frankly, pathetic when compared to the EU, which is where this is set.

In the first example, Cam is standing on the bridge of a starship, concentrating on his actions, ignoring the world around him, and it still takes time and considerable effort to first push through the shields of the enemy vessel, and then rip the engines from their mountings.

In the second, he is engaged at close range by highly skilled warriors, from a group (which, to be clear, isn't the only one in the galaxy) that is capable of going up against Jedi and killing them in combat. They had Force-user-specific weaponry in play and knew that letting Cam have even a few moments to truly set himself and draw upon the Force would be their death, so kept pushing him.

There are martial arts in SW (Teräs Käsi being the most famous) that were designed specifically to give those not strong in the Force (though everyone has some connection to it, even if its weak and dismissed by many as Good Luck - looking at you Han Solo) a fighting chance against Force users.

Mandalorians, at least in the EU, launched campaigns against the Republic and Jedi over the millennia and killed many Jedi, Sith, and other Force-users.

Now, could these Mandos have caused a problem for someone on the High Council's level (and I mean Plo Koon, Shaak Ti level, not Yoda or Windu)? Possibly, but those Jedi would win quicker than Cam.

Cam isn't an HC-level Jedi at this point (nor even at where the story currently stands) and hasn't faced off against anyone truly capable of taking him on outside of the Order.

That entire scene is told fro the POV of Darth Plagueis; one of the most powerful and skilled Force users in the galaxy (possibly ever, but that's a debate for another time). To him, the fight is happening slowly, Cam's form is flawed, and the Mandos are barely worth the effort. Yet to Cam, he's being pushed hard, and struggling against the Mandos.

This shows he's good, but not great in that fight, and again, unlike with the other example you referenced, doesn't have the time to draw upon the Force as easily and without distraction.
 
Might be worth an extras or informational tag "Why Cam doesn't force crush everyone or levitate nearby enemies" I doubt it would stop most knee-jerk reactions but maybe a few new readers will see it before commenting.

I will say one of my favorite ways to eliminate enemies in the games is force push or force gripping them off the edge of platforms. I also understand that most real worlds aren't platformers with limited paths and that instant win buttons are generally not great for storytelling.
 
The rage within, rippling just beneath the surface flared. As I stood, Force Lightning danced between the fingers of my free hand before racing to strike the Vong. The Vong was knocked back, struggling to keep his balance.
I appreciate you putting everything to do with the darkside in bold so I can tell which paragraphs I can skip.

someone tell me. Someone please please tell me, will this living planet arc finally put this darkside angst edgelord drama bullshit out of its fucking misery?
 
I wonder if Cam FINALLY make use of his Force Telepathy "group chat" to better communicate and coordinate with his allies in the inevitable crisis.

That would only work with those who could use it to communicate back with him. Thankfully, there are other ways to keep in contact with large groups that aren't Force-sensitive and trained.

I appreciate you putting everything to do with the darkside in bold so I can tell which paragraphs I can skip.

Bold text is for Interface stuff, like using a specific Force Power or Skill, not because it's Darkside-Aligned.
 

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