A New Player in the Force

“It’s heavier than I thought,” Anakin muttered as he shifted around, adapting to his new gear. His head snapped toward me as he caught the sound of my mechanical arm doing something. “Wait!” He said, reaching out for my arm even as I took another image of him in the armour. “Stop it!” He whined, moving closer even as I began to backpedal.

“Now, now,” I replied, taking another few pictures, “don’t you want Bo and the others to see what you look like in your armour?”

“Stop it!” he half-cried, half-snarled, and made a face that caused me to start laughing. I stopped quickly though as I felt the shift in the Force, suggesting he was drawing on emotions I didn’t want him to; at least until he had training in how to handle and channel them without losing control of himself to them and the Dark Side.

“Okay, okay,” I said after another ten seconds and lowered my arm to make clear I was done capturing the moment in both picture and video format. “Now,” I said, stepping closer to him, “how does it feel? Apart from being heavy.”

Anakin stopped and looked at his armour. He lifted his arms and legs slowly in succession, and twisted this way and that, getting a feel for his new gear. The only sections of the armour not currently on were the gauntlets and the helmet. They rested on a table nearby, while Anakin wore every other section of the standard Mandalorian armour – vambraces included – making him appear every inch the young warrior.

What fed into that, and semi-bonded him to me, was that like me his armour used black as the base colour. He’d chosen black as he wanted justice for those enslaved across the galaxy, and then edges of red and grey to honour and remember his mother. The only major difference between his armour and mine was that while his vizor was darkened, mine was red. Otherwise, when standing side by side, I was sure people would assume we were family, which was true from a certain point of view.

Bo had asked him back on Mandalore when I’d gotten my replacement limb, what colours he’d wear if he had armour while carrying out a refresher course on the colours and their meaning. He’d taken time to consider the choices, and while I’d accepted all of them easily, I’d not placed any gold edging on his armour. That marked a desire for vengeance, and for a young Force user, such desires could easily lead to places they weren’t ready to head.

I had no issue with his desire to seek vengeance for the death of his mother and had made clear several times that we would, when ready, move against Decca the Hutt. However, most of the times Decca had come up, I’d had to warn and remind Anakin of the dangers of becoming consumed by the need for vengeance. He’d accepted my words each time but always confirmed that when he was ready, he would move against Decca and other slavers.

There’d been conviction in his voice, and a certainty that shone brightly in the Force, whenever he made that vow. That was a sign that, while this Anakin wasn’t like the one in the other timeline, he had the same core drives and wants. I’d have to keep an eye on that and ensure that he learnt to focus those urges safely and do my best to keep him as far from the sight of the Banite Sith as I could.

I knew I couldn’t keep him hidden for a decade, until the outbreak of the Clone Wars, nor prevent him from experiencing the Dark Side, but the longer I could wait, the further I could get in his training, the better I felt things would go. The moment the Jedi and Sith knew of him, their interest would rise, and if they ever discovered that his Force Potential surpassed even mine - which was, from what Dooku and Fay had told me, the highest on record since at least the New Sith Wars – then both groups would want to take him from me and convert him to their cause.

That was something I’d never allow, and if I had to, I’d vanish, hiding deep in sectors that would shelter me, or travel to Wild Space or beyond. Until Anakin and I were ready for what was to come, the longer the truth of his status as the Chosen One could remain known to only myself, Dooku, and Fay, the safer the galaxy would be.

“Heavy,” he finally replied, ignoring my instruction to not comment on the weight, and forcing me to bring my thoughts to the here and now. “Tight too,” he added after twisting again at his waist, trying to get more comfortable in the armour.

“Can you move freely?” I asked, wondering if he’d grown more than I’d expected. If he had, then adjusting the straps for the various sections of armour wouldn’t be an issue. The underweave might be problematic, but as it wasn’t composed of beskar like mine, it only offered slight protection and a replacement shouldn’t be too hard to purchase.

“Yes, but I can feel it when I move.”

I smiled. “Good.” I placed my hands on his pauldrons and gave them gentle tugs, ensuring they were secure. “We don’t want them falling off when we enter battle now, do we?”

“I guess not,” Anakin replied, unsure of himself. “It’s just… different.”

“It’s okay to miss her,” I said, offering a gentle smile. “I’m sure, wherever she is in the Force, she’s happy that you’re finally starting the journey to be the protector she knew you would become.”

He smiled, the uncertainty slipping away, suggesting I’d guessed the reason. “Yeah. I just wish…”

“I know,” I said, patting his pauldrons one last time before letting them go. “Now, can you tell me what you’re now wearing?” I asked, shifting the conversation onward, past his feelings for his mother. While they were understandable, I didn’t want him dwelling on them.

“Mandalorian armour.”

“This,” I said, tapping a fist against his chest plate, “is Beskar’gam. The mark of the Mando’ade. You are my Padawan, yes, but you are also my Ad as well. We are family. It's my duty to train you, to prepare you, for battle and war. To ensure that when the time comes for you to stand there, defending those unready to defend themselves, you won’t fail or surrender your ground. We don’t share blood, as many would expect of a family, but aliit ori'shya tal'din.”

“Family is more than blood,” Anakin repeated in Basic.

“It is,” I responded, my smile growing at Anakin understanding some Mando’a. “I might not be your father by blood, but I am your father by choice and that makes us family. While the Jedi might not accept that, or even consider that too many, the bond between Master and Padawan is such a connection, to me it is. Masters Dooku and Fay are my family, as are you, Fenrir, Simvyl, Bo, HK, R2, and a few others.” There was a lesson in there about letting go, or at least letting those in your family leave to live their own lives, however, that was a matter for another time.

I wasn’t the type to entirely let someone go, so to preach that message would be hypocritical. It would also be entirely pointless as I knew Anakin wouldn’t, and likely couldn’t, do as the Order would expect. That could, when the time came, be an issue during Anakin’s Trials, but I’d face that when the time came, hopefully having found some form of balance and acceptance of what we were, and how we interacted with the Force before then.

While I’d not directly brought Anakin up with Adas, I could see how some of what the ancient Sith King was teaching me could be applied to Anakin as well. Adas was a Sith, but to him, it was a natural state – which, as he was of the Sith species, made sense – of being, and a choice taken by the Banite Sith. I knew everything he had and would teach me was manipulated by his opinion on the Force and natural inclination toward the Dark Side, but he wasn’t teaching me to lose myself in the Force, more to embrace all aspects of it and embrace who I was, and what the Force was to me. I’d also failed to sense any hints of deceit from him, before or after taking Natural Selection, suggesting that, from his point of view, he was being honest in what he was saying and teaching me.

Adas, when told how the current Sith were moving – acting from the shadows, shifting pieces into place slowly, not actively taking what they should – hadn’t reacted well. The string of insults he hurled at them for betraying what it meant to be a Sith had been interesting, and I was reasonably sure I’d learnt how to curse in the ancient Sith language based on some of what he’d said.

Adas held some respect for Revan, at least from what he already knew and the gaps in his history that I filled in. While he disliked that Revan had abandoned his path because of love, Revan had, in Adas’ words, shown the force of character to shape the path of the galaxy to his vision. At least until he was betrayed by his apprentice and friend when Malak was unable to see through whatever the Sith Emperor had done to the pair when they’d fought him.

Given Revan was, from what I’d learnt, one of the few Sith from the Old Republic to insist on there only being two Lords of the Sith, I wondered if he’d not played some part in what had caused Darth Bane to found the Rule of Two. I’d never heard of Revan having a Sith holocron, but if he had and Bane found it, it would help explain where the idea of just two Sith Lords had come from.

“So why won’t Serra talk to you? Isn’t she family?”

Anakin’s question caught me off-guard; I grunted before collecting myself. “She is,” I began, smiling as I remembered my time spent with Serra, “and it was because of that connection that she came to Naboo to fight at my side. And why Master Drallig came after her. To be clear, I didn’t want her there, didn’t think she should have to choose between the Order and me, and I feared something might happen if she came. I was right, but not in the way I expected.”

“Because her Master died?”

“Yes,” I replied, nodding at my son. “To Serra, while she might not admit it openly, Master Drallig was the closest she’d ever had to a parent. Unlike you and I, she was taken in and raised by the Order. Losing him hurt her deeply, and to help her recover, her new Master has decided to restrict her access to anyone – not just me – until she comes to terms with her loss.” Seeing it from the Jedi perspective, I could understand Windu’s decision, though I wouldn’t have done the same in his shoes. I also understood that, while the restriction was on interacting with others in the Order in general, I knew the true target of her isolation was me and the bond I shared with Serra.

“Good.” I leaned back and blinked, caught out by Anakin’s response.” I mean, not that she’s not around, or that her Master died,” he clarified quickly, “just that it wasn’t y-you that died. I…” He stopped there and looked away, an arm coming up to wipe his face.

“Ni kar'taylir.” He turned back to me. “I’m glad I didn’t die too,” I say with a smirk, helping to lighten the mood. “However, Serra needs time to recover from Master Drallig’s death. Even with all her training, handling such an event is painful, and we have to give her the time needed to release her pain and emotions regarding the loss of her Master into the Force.”

“That’s stupid!” My brow rose at Anakin’s blunt and forceful response. “I… I mean, why do we have to forget our f-family and friends?”

“We don’t,” I replied, placing my hand back on his shoulder. “The Order believes that we need to learn to let go of our emotions; at least as it pertains to forming attachments. Otherwise, the risk for most, if not all, Force users, is that fear of loss of the ones we care for will lead us blindly down the path to losing ourselves within the Dark Side.” I paused for a second, wondering how my wording had changed over the years, the influence of Dooku and Adas prominent in my thinking now against what I’d foolishly believed not long after first arriving at the Temple and becoming friends with Serra.

“Anyway,” I resumed, choosing to change the topic, “that is a matter for another time; when you are further along in your training.” I stepped back, admiring my ad in his armour. “What matters today is the side of you that is Mando’ade, and understanding the history of your armour.” I turned him around, aiming him toward the table where his gauntlets and helmet rested. “Go and get the rest of your armour.”

He moved off, and I waited until he’d reached the table and picked up the helmet before I spoke again. “Traditionally, an adiik’s armour is made only from durasteel. The time, effort, and personal importance of using beskar is reserved only for those who’ve passed their verd’goten. Because of this, and to instil a sense of history, the various sections of the adiik’s armour come from those who came before; meaning their buir and ancestors.” Anakin turned, the helmet in his hands as I explained the importance of his first set of armour. “I lack durasteel armour from when I was younger, and as I’m the first of our Clan, there’s no history I can add to your armour. Instead, our allies in Clans Kryze and Ordo have offered sections from armour worn and reshaped by their clans for millennia.” Anakin paused at hearing that, the helmet about to be lowered over his head. “Your chest piece was once worn by Dorgo Kryze, and your boots come from Bo. The pauldrons and greaves come respectfully from Duke Torrhen and his son Osto.”

“Is it ok for them to do this?” Anakin asked, the helmet hovering amusingly just above his head.

“Yes. When a new or reformed clan rises, their allies, if they have any, are allowed to offer such gifts. It is to show that while the clan is small, we are part of something greater. We stand as one people, one culture, one ideal. We have a debt of honour to Clans Kryze and Ordo for their offerings, but I know we’ll both work to fulfil that debt.” Anakin nodded, the helmet now on his head. “That said, I suspect Alors Adonai and Torrhen consider the debt already paid for through ensuring they had the chance to fight at my side on Naboo, and the hefty spoils of war they departed with.” Anakin nodded again as he secured the first gauntlet, and I wondered what the duke had planned for the Lucrehulk. Whatever it was, I’m sure it would both aid the Mando’ade in growing stronger and anger the Trade Federation.

As Anakin picked up the second gauntlet I turned and extended my hand toward a shelf. While I lacked the fine control I desired, I had enough retained skill – along with constant moments of training – to trust myself to use the Force to lift an object and bring it to me. I hoped to soon have the fine control back – Dooku’s lessons many years ago being a massive help for that – and rediscover the more creative methods of using the Force that Bo, Serra, and Naz had enjoyed.

The small box I’d lifted reached my hands just as Anakin secured the second gauntlet. “As I said, I lack the sections of durasteel armour that could be used in your first armour, however,” I opened the box slowly, “I have something that will ensure all Mando’ade know that you are part of Clan Shan. Plus, it’ll help complete the look.”

I pushed the box toward him and watched as he observed the box approaching, his hands moving out cautiously to gather it. Once he had it, I released the Force from my command and watched as he slowly opened it fully.

“Is this…” his voice, unmodulated as he’d not engaged the function, cut off as he saw what was inside the box.

“It is,” I replied, moving toward him as one of his hands reached into the box. “You haven’t completed your verd’goten, and when you do, you’re free to compose a personal item to commemorate it. Until then, as your buir and Alor, I permit you the right to wear a cloak crafted from my kill; the greater krayt dragon of Tatooine.”

“Wizard!” he said as he lifted the cloak from the box. I’d had this made back on Mandalore, not long after Bo had told me Anakin needed armour. Given the size of the dragon, converting one section into a small cloak for Anakin was a trivial matter – there were still tonnes of material, including meat and pearls, stored in a secured freezer deep in Clan Kryze’s estates. Since I lacked the infrastructure to have a Mandalorian estate – or at least the manpower and clan size to secure and protect it – the remains of my kill stayed with Clan Kryze, though I’d finally convinced Adonai to let me pay for the energy and men that guarded the frozen vault.

I moved closer to Anakin and took the cloak from him. He turned rapidly, his excitement flooding into the Force so strongly that I suspect Bo might sense it even though we were thousands of lightyears apart. It only took a moment to secure the cloak, the fact I was attaching it from behind and on someone smaller was the only issue, and once it was secured I tapped his helmet. “There, now turn around so I can see you.”

He turned, the cloak shifting in as he did. “Perfect,” I said with a wide smile. “You look every bit the young warrior, verd'ika. However, as the HUD will be informing you, your vambraces only have a grappling cable and computer functions installed. That is because, even for an adiik, the choice of weaponry is a personal one. The only restriction I’m placing on you, for now, is limiting you to a single offensive capability. Prove yourself worthy, and I’ll allow you to add whatever you want. Now, what sort of weaponry and extras would you like to add to them?”

Anakin looked down at the vambraces, each bearing a small mark on them for Clan Shan. In time, he’d add a personal sigil and, I suspected, replace the Clan Shan one with one for Clan Skywalker. That, however, was for far into the future.

“Um, can I think about it first?”

“That’s what I want you to do,” I replied. “Now, I want you to spend the next few days wearing the armour whenever you’re inside Raven.” I didn’t want him wandering around Raith's research facility in the armour, otherwise it might concern many of his employees. It was why I was also only wearing part of the armour, with most covered by robes I’d had made from the krayt dragon’s hide. Those were darker than normal Jedi robes, but the Council hadn’t commented on them when I’d spoken with them on Naboo. Given Dooku’s choice to wear far higher quality clothing than most Jedi, it would’ve felt like targeting if they’d called me out on my choice of fabric for the robes. “You need to grow used to the HUD and how it reacts to the movement of your head and simple commands. Once we leave, I’ll want an idea of what you plan for your loadout, and we’ll begin purchasing the components on the way to our next destination.”

“Okay.” He turned and moved toward the door, which had me raising my mechanical arm.

“Anakin,” I called out, making him turn just as the recorder in the arm activated.

“Cam!” He whined, not wanting another image or video taken. Just like many youngsters his age.

“Perfect,” I said with a wide smile before ending the recording. “On you go,” I added, shooing him toward the door. He paused for a moment, and I knew he was glaring. I bit back some laughter at the reversal of the situation of a Padawan glaring up at their Master as I’d done that on multiple occasions with Fay and Dooku, and to be on the other side of it amused me.

Once the door slid shut behind him, I let out the chuckles I’d been holding back. I was going to enjoy being on the other side of that situation over the next few years.

Looking down, I accessed the limb and transferred the various pictures and recordings I’d taken of Anakin while he’d gotten into his armour. Bo would want a copy, which I’d send as soon as we were clear of the Orion System. For security, Raith had all Holonet traffic restricted to only those needed for official SST communications. Once we were clear of that, I’d also send the recordings to Ferox, so he and Lia could see how Anakin was getting on.

Part of me shared Anakin’s pain that his mother wouldn’t get to see him in the armour, and I hoped that, wherever she was, she approved of my training and plans for her son. War was coming and I’d be damned if he and I weren’t ready for it.

… …

… …

I looked around the bay, taking in the various technicians, engineers, and researchers who had worked on Raven over the last month and a bit. “Thank you for this,” I said to Raith as we shook hands,” though I still think I should at least be covering the cost of the work and materials.”

“Nonsense!” Raith replied, waving his free hand dismissively before patting my hand that was shaking his with that hand. “You, your Padawan, and those who travel with you are my guests. You’ve allowed me to see and experience something few beings in the galaxy can say they’ve had the pleasure of,” his eyes darted past me, toward Raven, who was resting at the far side of the bay with the others already onboard. “Even going so far as to allow me to examine your incredible vessel. Upgrading her and adding some small additions doesn’t even come close to the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity it was to study her and get to know a Jedi.”

“Along with anything your company develops of the hundreds of scans you took of Raven and her systems,” I shot back jovially, smiling to say I didn’t mind that he had those scans. The Jedi had them as well, as would a few others, though Raith was the first to dive deeply into Raven and how the biological and mechanical components of her frame came together to form something greater than the sum of the parts.

Raith laughed heartily. “Guilty as charged!” He exclaimed as we stopped shaking hands. “While there’s much of Raven’s build that I don’t yet understand, I’m an engineer at heart and as head of a major corporation, I’m always looking for ways to push the limits of what can be done.”

“I’m sure the Reformation doesn’t help with that.”

“No, it certainly doesn’t,” he agreed as we turned and began walking toward Raven. “I understand why the changes were needed, but it’s been a thousand years, and the galaxy has moved on. Just like you, others including myself find ourselves in a similar position: being restrained by laws that are from a different era.”

“You’ll get no argument from me, or many others,” I remarked. “I do hope that what you’ve learnt from Raven helps you find ways to expand around that law and others like it.”

“Much of Raven’s layout cannot be duplicated. Not without speaking to the Sekotan engineers and growers who were responsible for her construction. However, there are avenues of research that I’d have never considered if not for getting the opportunity to examine and observe this wondrous vessel.”

“I look forward to seeing the advancements SST make in the future, and if there’s ever anything I can help with, please don’t hesitate to call.” Given his position as the head of one of the biggest corporations in the galaxy, there was little a single Jedi Knight could do to help, but I’d already decided on one way to thank him.

The galactic premiere for Fellowship of the Ring was still about a year away, as the company behind converting the trilogy into holomovies was making all three back-to-back to back to save on costs. But as the creator of the story, and someone who retained a role in overseeing the production – even if that was done remotely – I had a few batches of tickets available to offer to people I was close to. Those for the galactic premiere, which would take place on Coruscant, were limited, but I already knew who would be getting those tickets.

The company behind the production was sparing little expense on the project, and I just hoped that what they were making, and what advice I could give, would ensure that what was created was worthy of the source material. I also wondered how Tolkien would feel about his work being shared with another galaxy, and hoped he approved of my choice to publish his greatest work here.

Because of that, and wanting Anakin to have some fun before we headed to the first Force sect for training – which I had determined would be the Matukai – I planned to swing by Alderaan. The planet in The Core was being used for principal photography as the company had agreed that using real locations – with subtle enhancements added in post-production – was the better choice than shooting it all before an empty screen and adding in everything else digitally. It amused me that, with all the technology in this galaxy, the choice to make movies physically was still the preferred way of doing it, though with the variety of locations available across the Republic, it made sense.

While the first part of the trilogy had finished principal shooting, I figured Anakin would enjoy seeing how a holomovie was made, and it would let me see how things were going in person. I knew the details via Holocalls, but I wanted to speak directly with those on-site, not just because I wanted to ensure the work was being translated properly, but because of the investment I had in the project.

I’d been paid about two hundred million credits for the rights to the trilogy, which was the lowest outright offer I’d received, but had still been enough to ensure my earnings went safely north of a billion credits. What had convinced me to go with this company was that, beyond them putting down in writing that I had a veto on certain matters, I was guaranteed a cut of the revenue taken from across the galaxy. That cut came before the studio paid anyone for their work on the project, or handled the tax requirements on the various worlds where they filmed or had offices based. Based on the figures from Shokvo – who remained my point of contact with the publishing company that handled the Lord of the Rings and was now responsible for getting Knights of the Old Republic out to the masses – the base floor of projections for my take was north of three hundred million, and that was just for the first movie. If the series was a success, then I could earn a billion credits plus from the holomovies, to say nothing of the cut I’d get of any merchandise linked to them.

I was uncertain about going to the premiere, as while I could maintain the public position of being a guest of either Palpatine or Padmé – both of whom had invites and promised to attend – the fact was going meant taking Anakin to Coruscant. That was an issue I wasn’t sure how I would handle, as the only obvious choices to avoid him attending the premiere were to place him at the Temple or leave him with Bo on Mandalore.

Neither was appealing as I felt Anakin would be annoyed, if not insulted, that I’d not taken him to the premiere, which meant I’d either have to not attend the premiere or take him with me and bring him to the attention of the Jedi and Banite Sith. The other major issue was that, by returning to Coruscant, if I’d not developed the shields needed to hide my true intentions I’d probably have both Jedi and Banite Sith wanting me captured, though for entirely different reasons.

Compared to the danger of placing Anakin and myself near the Banite Sith, placing Raith near them was a minor risk, one made less so as I’d be shocked if the pair didn’t already have some influence and connection to Raith. Damask Holdings was a major investor in several of the subsidiary companies of SST, and because of that I doubted Hego Damask – aka Darth Plagueis – wasn’t at least passingly familiar with Raith, and vice versa.

Eventually, the Banite Sith would learn that Raith had helped improve Raven, and would try to worm their way – legally and illegally – into SST records for access to that data. Raith assured me that only those at this research location could access Raven’s data and that none could leave the facility with any form of data storage device. I wasn’t sure how infallible the security was, but I was glad he was placing insane levels of security around data relating to Raven, though I knew that was simply to prevent corporate espionage rather than keeping me happy.

“If there’s ever a situation where I require a Jedi or Mandalorian,” Raith replied, drawing my thoughts back to the present, “your name will be the first I consider. Beyond even speaking to the Co-Chancellors,” he added with a chuckle as he clapped my shoulder. “I do hope that you’ll continue to encourage Anakin’s interest in engineering. I know he’s destined to become a Jedi,” I felt a flash of amusement at that, “but he has a gift for design that has to be nurtured. I’ve rarely seen such insight from any bar myself,” he added with a wide smile.

“I have every intention of supporting him,” I said, returning his smile, “Though I’ll try and persuade him to not flood the private inbox you provided us with questions he has on a daily basis.”

“Ha! Anything he sends, even a simple update of what he’s doing, will likely be more appealing than ninety per cent of what I have to endure each day.” I nodded, agreeing that the idea of daily corporate meetings and calls didn’t sound appealing in any way. “Force, if his insights continue to develop, I suspect the reward for all of us will have several of my board members fainting when they learn the ideas are coming from a child.” He looked around conspiratorially, before leaning close and half-whispering. “Between you and me, I wouldn’t mind if some of those board members, or their accountants, died of shock at such information.”

I chuckled. “As a Jedi, I cannot comment on such opinions, nor do I have to fear such meetings. As a Mandalorian, I’m sure I could suggest methods that would… encourage them to be less restrictive of your time.”

Raith laughed heartily. “If I could arrange it now, or persuade you to stay for a few more days, I’d pay whatever you wanted to see that happen. Force, if I could, just for the sight of those people running around in fear, I’d grant you control of one of SST’s subsidiaries.”

I leaned back, making a face that suggested I’d just eaten a live Ewok. “Thank you but, no. With respect, running a major company sounds even less appealing than entering politics. Something Chancellor Palpatine has continued to gently suggest I should do.”

That drew another barking laugh from Raith. “Yes! That would be almost as much fun to watch as granting you one of my companies. Perhaps more so as most of the Senate are nothing more than blood-sucking parasites!” I chuckled in agreement. “Still,” he said as we reached the ramp leading into Raven and he extended his hand again, “it’s been a pleasure to meet you and your party. Do stay in touch.”

“Will do,” I replied as we broke the shake, “and I’ll make sure he sends you the technical readouts for the various upgrades you’ve installed in Raven.”

“Yes, yes. However, for anything relating to the shields, make sure the message lacks the data. I’ll arrange a location for a courier to deliver it personally as you never know who might be listening on the Holonet.”

“Of course.” I took a step back, moving onto the ramp. “Until we speak again, may the Force be with you, my friend.”

Raith chuckled and shook his head. “Never thought I’d see the day a Jedi would consider me a friend.” I smiled at that, as while I wouldn’t call Raith a friend – nor would the Interface via Observe, it was better to play on the term to ensure he remained friendly. “And given your adventures, I think you’ll need the Force with you more than I will.” He chuckled again. “Battling krayt dragons, spice-pushing cults, and invasions is something I don’t have a need or want to experience.”

“A Jedi has many moments of quiet contemplation, but I do seem to find myself in trouble more than most.”

Raith waved a finger at me. “Careful now, the universe, or should I say the Force, might hear you and decide you need a new challenge.”

“Haran, I hope not. I need to make sure Anakin’s trained before my next adventure.”

We shared one final laugh, and then I gave him a quick nod before turning and walking up the ramp. “Hey girl,” I said, running my organic hand over a section of Raven’s flesh, “ready to fly again?”

The section of wall I was stroking pulsed, lights moving in a cornucopia of colours that dazzled me even now, several years after first bonding with her. Through the Force, as dim as I was keeping the connection, I sensed Raven’s delight to finally travel the hyperspace lines once more. We’d gone out regularly during our time at this facility, testing the various upgrades – be they hardware or software that Raith’s teams had installed, but we’d never left the system. Raven had enjoyed testing out the improvements almost as much as I did, but I knew she desired to feel the exotic matter of hyperspace caressing her skin.

“Soon, lass, soon,” I added, giving the section of her frame a gentle pat. Behind me I heard the ramp rising, Raven having activated the systems without me needing to touch the controls. Since taking Natural Selection there were more and more moments when she understood and knew what I wanted done before I’d managed to act on those thoughts. Thankfully, none of the upgrades seemed to have interfered with this, nor her regular behaviour.

Raven still lacked weaponry, as neither Raith nor myself had been comfortable bringing in bioengineers – for differing reasons I suspected – to help with Raven’s overhaul. Thankfully, the lack of offensive capabilities, bar the missile racks attached to mechanical sections – two racks under each wing – wasn’t a major issue due to what Raith had given Raven.

While shielding for her was a priority alongside weapons, what Raith had provided went above and beyond that. Beyond installing shielding that was equivalent to what would be found on military-grade corvettes, even some light cruisers, it was a type of shield that, from what Raith knew, couldn’t exist on any ship at least ten times Raven’s mass and with a computing core taking up at least a third of all internal power.

I’d heard the term modular shielding before, just not when mentioned for a ship the size of Raven. The reason for that was because on every other ship that Raith used as an example, and all but a few stations, the transfer of power from one section of the shields to another was handled by teams of technicians. This transfer worked only as fast as the teams did, meaning the shields would remain weak until the commands were sent, and the computer reacted to them.

Raven was unlike any other ship in that she was alive and had a primary core equivalent of the brain of many sentients. That meant she could handle the calculations needed for diverting the power and do so before any crew could. That sounded remarkably useful for any ship, but Raith and Anakin had explained that, because of the tremendous strain such monitoring and adapting to every change in combat situations placed on the computer cores of most starships, it wasn’t feasible for anything short of vessels approaching a kilometre long, and such vessels had to devote insane percentages of internal power and crew to managing it.

Only the ultra, ultra-rich could afford vessels with the size and power requirements to make it feasible, and all but a handful didn’t as they’d be sacrificing so much internal space with their vessel as to make their living areas feel – for them – cramped. Raven, because her primary core was bioelectrical, could handle the work without it causing anything more than minimal – less than zero-point-five per cent – drop in efficiency. We all considered that drop-off acceptable, and I expected it to decrease as Raven grew used to controlling and powering the shields.

Curious about the system the Scimitar had, I’d brought up the idea of installing a cloak, either one he had on hand, or purchased from the market, but he’d dismissed it. While he did admit to installing such systems on a handful of vessels – which had me wondering about who constructed the Scimitar and if Raith had played a part in the Sith ships’ construction – the issue was getting access to the rare and expensive crystals that were needed to power the system. Beyond the base price for such crystals, unless you knew the right people, paid exorbitant extra fees, or attempted to steal the crystals, you could be waiting years if not decades to get enough crystals to power such a system for more than a few months of full use.

He had said he was considering ways to make the technology more accessible and efficient, but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever discover a method. Anakin had offered to help, and Raith had provided some data for the boy to examine; however, I was unsure if he’d be able to find a workaround. At least not before he grew bored of the puzzle and shifted to another.

The other upgrades that Raith had installed on Raven were less obvious, and seemingly less impressive, but still improved her dramatically. Her reaction time to commands was still off the charts and had been boosted slightly with the replacement of data cables where they could be replaced, but now her thrusters and sub-light engines produced more thrust for less fuel and in less time granting her a degree of manoeuvrability only surpassed by fighters designed for rapid manoeuvring. Her hyperdrive wasn’t touched, as few models could surpass the base 0.7-rated hyperdrive the Sekotans had installed, plus it was fused into her frame such that any attempt to remove it would hurt Raven. Because of our bond, I’d already seen that hyperdrive drop to a 0.5 rating when Raven pushed herself, and I felt that as I grew more comfortable using the Force naturally, and applied that to my bond with Raven, she’d be capable of slightly faster speeds. Regardless, with the upgrades, Raven was capable of dancing around ships half her size, to say nothing of those larger.

“Hey R2,” I called out as I passed the engine room, the astromech having adopted the location as his. “Everything looking good?” I had little need for an astromech as Raven’s secondary – mechanical – core handled plotting jumps and had a greater memory than the droid. Nor was there as much repair work to do as Raven was predominantly organic. Because of that, the droid had, by his own volition, taken the role of chief engineer, focusing on ensuring the hyperdrive and other engines were working optimally. HK had noted that the astromech that had served with him when with Revan – T3 – had done the same, and it amused both droids and me to see R2 filling that role.

R2 had also had some upgrades installed by Anakin, though only after the droid and Raith had gone over the plans. While his frame was still composed of durasteel, he now had a dedicated blaster installed, replacing one of the various arms that extended from inside his frame. A handful of spare power clips were stored in the frame as well. There was also a small but powerful sonic cannon that, while not capable of outright killing, would disorient any sentient it was fired at. Long enough for the droid to escape, or someone with him to take down the target.

R2 was pleased with the upgrades, just as he was to be serving as an engineer, and he responded to my question with a series of excited beeps and whistles while giving me a mock salute with one of the arms that extended from his frame.

“Excellent,” I said, responding to the droid’s musical reply. “Just keep an eye on everything, we don’t want things going haywire once in hyperspace.”

R2 gave a whistle of agreement, and I resumed my walk toward the cockpit, though as I passed through the central communal area, I slowed as I saw Anakin. He was leaning over the main table, engrossed in a datapad while Fenrir was lounging nearby. As usual, the tuk’ata was taking up the entire main couch that encircled the table at the centre of the room, leaving just enough room for the boy to sit there without being crushed.

“Anakin.” When he didn’t respond I moved closer and looked at the pad. It contained the information of the Z-95 Headhunter, which I knew was a precursor to the X-Wing, and I’d given the design – or at least what I had of the design from my time studying on Fondor – to him. The challenge was to keep the vessel a single-seater fighter but convert it to a more general role while adding hyperdrive capabilities. I was curious to see if he could, unintentionally create something like the X-Wing decades before it was made in the other timeline. While the design had flaws, its overall ability made it a good backbone fighter for a star force. Raith was aware of the project and had offered some advice to Anakin before we’d left, though he wasn’t a huge fan of the overall design, feeling it was overly complicated and expensive for a fighter.

“An’ika,” I said once closer. However, he failed to respond to that either, and after a chuckle, I moved closer and tapped his shoulder.

“Wh?” He asked, almost leaping from the chair. “C-Cam?”

“Enjoying your work?” I asked, not bothering to hide my amusement at how lost in his studies he’d gotten.

“Yeah.” He blinked and looked around. “Am I late for training?”

“No,” I replied after chuckling. “Just wanted to check in on you before we took off.”

“Oh, ok.” With that, he turned back to the pad.

I shook my head, and moved toward Fenrir, scratching him behind an ear. “Make sure he doesn’t spend all day on the pad.” The tuk’ata snorted, dismissing me and I wondered which would be the first to move - the engrossed boy, or the lazing war beast.

Moving away, I headed down the short passage toward the cockpit. I passed the small alcove that doubled as the access point to Raven’s cores. Well, to her mechanical core as the organic brain was located deep in her frame, far from where anyone could reach unless she revealed its location.

As the doors to the cockpit opened, Simvyl turned, looking up at me from the co-pilot’s chair. HK was settled, as normal when he wasn’t calibrating his weapons, at one of the secondary stations, which now that we had some offensive firepower along with the shields, finally served a purpose. While HK would prefer we had more than a few missile racks for offence, he was impressed by the shielding and was already contemplating if it would be possible to adapt it to his frame.

“How we looking?” I asked Simvyl as I slipped around and into the pilot’s chair. As I sunk into the chair, the edges then moving to form a partial shell over my legs and back. That change in the seat was something that had occurred after taking Natural Selection, and may well have been a reaction to her fearing she’d lose me because of how I’d struggled in the immediate aftermath of the change. The partial covering of my legs made the connection to Raven stronger, and the various switches and levers I had to move to power up the engines for pre-flight started activating on their own; Raven knew the patterns and anticipated my actions.

“Everything’s in the green,” he replied as my hands brushed over sections of Raven’s organic shell before grasping the helm. “Power core’s fully charged, tanks are full, and we’re clear to depart when you want.”

“Good.”

The slightest pressure on the controls was enough for Raven to shift power to the engines. I could feel the subtle shifts she carried out my orders before they were given, and sense the way the increased power drawn from the core flowed through her systems.

Gently easing back on the controls, Raven lifted, though if not for the viewport, there’d be no way to tell as the movement was silent. Turning her nose toward the hangar entrance, I saw Raith standing in the control tower. Though it was more of an elevated room than a tower, I still referred to it as such.

I gave him a mock salute, one he returned with a wide smile, and a moment later he shifted from view; the canopy of the forest that surrounded this facility took up the view as we eased toward the exit. As the light of the sun kidded Raven’s skin, I felt her delight to be in the light again, and free to do what she was born and loved doing.

As we angled upward, I wondered what our time with the Matukai, the first Force sect we were going to study with, would be like. I’d read the files on their world and culture carefully, but I knew you couldn’t trust everything you read in an archive. Nor to form a proper opinion until you’d seen and experienced something for real.

The issue with the Matukai, unlike with other Force sects such as the Witches of Dathomir – who, while weren’t all dark siders like I’d feared, were very anti-male and as such, unlikely for Anakin and me to visit any time soon – or the Shapers, was that they didn’t have a dedicated temple. They were based on Karvoss II, which is where we’d be heading after a stop-over on Alderaan to speak with those involved in the production of the Lord of the Rings trilogy of holomovies, and that was the final destination of this leg of our voyages.

From the Celebratus Archive, I’d discovered that they called their equivalent of Jedi Masters Instructors, and they did generally congregate on Karvoss II. Because one Instructor could take on multiple students, and there was no requirement to have a decent Force Potential, I suspected training could be arranged for Simvyl as well as myself and Anakin. The issue was going to be finding an Instructor as the Matukai numbers were estimated at less than five thousand, and even if all of them were on Karvoss II – which I felt was unlikely – the planet had a population of over two billion.

That said, for all the difficulty that was going to go into locating an Instructor and convincing them to train us – I wasn’t sure if I’d approach them as Mandalorians or Jedi – they were the logical first sect to study with. The Matukai emphasized using one’s Force connection, no matter how trivial, to improve and enhance their body. From what I’d read, even someone with Simvyl’s low Force Potential could, with sufficient training, compete against a Jedi for a few minutes. At least so long as the pair were fighting without weapons or other Force powers.

The Matukai training, from what the Archive files had said, placed a focus on training in ways that reminded me of moving meditation – Alchaka – even drawing on combat training for it. That, to me, felt more natural than repeating simple tasks like disassembling and then reassembling a lightsaber, blaster, or another mechanical device.

The Jedi wished for one to release their emotions, specifically any that could lead to darker impulses like fear, anger, and hate, into the Force. The issue for me was that, because of Eidetic Memory, even when I did release my emotions linked to events like the Bando Gora and Vong, the next time I thought about them, the emotions returned in full. That was why I’d learnt to bottle them deep inside, only drawing on them on those rare occasions when I felt I had little to no other choice.

Succumbing to the Dark Side, at least to the point where I lost myself in it, was a major concern that filled my nights – be those when I was sleeping, meditating, or doing other things. I needed to learn some way to live with my memories and the emotions that encircled them, instead of being trapped in the past.

As much as it pained me to admit, Adas was an immense help in learning to, if not deny, ignore, and bottle up those memories and emotions, at least learn to live with them. To accept they were a part of me. There was more he wanted to teach me, but I was reluctant to begin those lessons, fearing that he simply wished to mould me – and by extension Anakin – into what he felt a Sith should be. He wanted a new Sith Empire, or one worthy of succeeding what he’d once ruled, rise: crushing the Jedi, Republic and Banite Sith in the process.

I wouldn’t deny that the idea of leading a faction separate from the Republic and CIS held appeal, but I wasn’t thinking too hard on the matter currently. The focus would remain on relearning what I’d known before, and discovering new ways to use the Force.

A burst of excitement rushed from Raven as we slipped into the upper ranges of the atmosphere. We’d both undergone changes since Naboo, but now it was time to push further and prepare for what was to come.

… …

… …