A New Player in the Force

3.05 Father and Son

... ...

“Cautionary: I believe my master was quite clear about what you could and couldn’t touch, meatbag.”

The meatbag in question, Hondo Onaka, took a few cautious steps back, his hands raised in a gesture of compliance. "Yes, yes. I recall his words perfectly, droid. I was merely... curious, yes, curious, about what this is." His tone and body language conveyed submission, but the fluidity with which Hondo moved hinted at something more than the image of a simple smuggler and pirate. On several occasions, he had displayed an unexpected grace or control that belied his outward persona. I had never pressed him about it, content to let him keep his secrets as I kept mine, but I suspected some form of combat training. Perhaps not the refined techniques of Teräs Käsi, the Jedi, or the Mando’ade, but certainly something of significance.

It might well explain how he managed to hold his own against Force users in the media I remembered from before my rebirth. There were significant issues I had with the arc that introduced him—how he had so effortlessly captured Dooku, Obi-Wan, and Anakin. Even without his lightsaber, I knew Dooku could have overwhelmed Hondo and his gang with minimal effort. Yet, that was another timeline, and I had learned enough in this new life not to assume that everything I knew from before applied here—or to underestimate anyone I encountered.

“Mockery: Ah yes, this is all just a simple misunderstanding, and I have failed to anticipate your actions and behaviour.” I bit back a chuckle at HK’s response as I continued to observe the interaction via a security camera in the central area of the ship.

“Exactly!” Hondo replied, spreading his arms wide.

I couldn’t help but shake my head at the behaviour. It might be nearly a decade before he set up with his gang on Florrum and exploited the opportunities the Clone Wars brought, but the quick tongue and disarming manner were already part of his repertoire. Still, the odds that after the debacle with Miraj’s contact, the one who was now helping me locate Anakin was Hondo fucking Onaka wasn’t lost on me.

Whether it was an act of the Force, TPTB, or simply random chance, that had made Hondo one of the few to slip away from that cantina before I lost control, I didn’t know. Nor, honestly, did I care. All that mattered was these contacts he told me about who knew the location of several Trandoshan hunting parties in this and nearby sectors of the Outer Rim.

“How much longer are we going to tolerate this pirate?”

I turned from the display, taking in Simvyl’s irritated expression. Ever since Hondo had set foot on Raven, the Cathar had disliked his presence. After five days, it had reached the point that unless Hondo was in his assigned cabin – with HK standing guard outside it – then Simvyl would either be in the cockpit, training area blowing off steam, or in his cabin. I wasn’t sure what it was about Hondo – or Weequay in particular- that Simvyl didn’t like, but it was clear he disliked the pirate, and it wasn’t just a reaction to his injuries and foul mood at losing Anakin on his watch.

Simvyl’s wounds had healed, though he had deliberately removed the patches before the scars could fully mend. I hadn’t questioned his reasons, but I suspected it was his way of reminding himself of his failure to protect Anakin. I had already assured him that I didn’t hold him responsible for Anakin’s abduction—once I had mastered my rage enough to refrain from lashing out at everything around me. I understood that he had done all he could in the face of overwhelming odds. Still, Simvyl had vowed that when we found the lizards, he would show them the exact measure of mercy they deserved—none at all.

"At least until we meet his contact," I replied slowly, turning my gaze back to the monitor. Hondo was moving away from the area HK had just warned him about—a small door leading to where we stored most of our munitions. It had been five days—one galactic week—since Anakin’s abduction, and two since the disastrous meeting with Miraj’s contact. In the time I wasn’t in the cockpit, I spent hours meditating on my actions, struggling to control the fury that churned within me. Unlike before, I had neither an outlet for my emotions—be it Bo or battle—nor could I simply suppress the rage and find my centre. Though I regretted killing the Devaronian before he could give me the information I needed, I felt no remorse for his death, nor for the deaths of nearly everyone else in that cantina. Slavers, killers, thugs—they deserved nothing less than execution for their crimes. It wouldn’t provide lasting relief, but I hoped that the deaths of so many in the planet’s underworld might offer the general populace a brief respite.

I watched as Hondo left the central area, Raven shifting the display to show the Weequay moving down the corridor, seemingly toward his cabin. Hondo had been clearly warned that if his contact proved useless, or that if he tried to acquire anything on Raven that didn’t belong to him, then his screams as he died would be heard from Coruscant to Nal Hutta. He’d gulped at my warning, taking it seriously, though it seemed that after a day and a half on Raven he might be needing a reminder.

The issue I was facing was if I would kill him if his contact proved useless. While nothing important now, he had the potential to be of use to me as the galaxy teetered closer to all-out war. I had no interest in taking control of even a fraction of the galactic underworld – honestly, I was more inclined to wipe out what I could – but I understood that it existed since before the Republic had been formed twenty-five thousand years ago, and would continue to do so, no matter what the future brought. Having a few contacts in that sphere that I could call on directly would not be the worst thing.

“I doubt he’s going to be of much use,” Simvyl responded as I continued to watch as Hondo moved through Raven, HK a few steps behind, his hands on his blaster while his optical receptors watched the Weequay carefully. The droid had orders to not kill the Weequay at the first attempt each day, merely offering a warning. As that had been done, the next warning would carry him readying his blaster and the third a wounding shot. Hondo knew this but still seemed intent on pushing his boundaries.

“Probably not, but I sense the Force at work in having him meet us.” Simvyl rolled his eyes at my comment, which was understandable. That sort of wishy-washy phrase wasn’t one I used often, or placed my stock in and generally disliked. Still, I couldn’t ignore the idea that someone or something had ensured I encountered Hondo, nor was I going to act like it might not have future uses.

Of course, I had no intention of revealing to Hondo that I was a Jedi, nor would I ever remove my helmet in his presence. Though I wasn’t widely known, my face had been all over the Holonet earlier this year due to the events on Naboo and my association with the planet and Chancellor Palpatine. And let’s not forget my strong connection with Chancellor Damask as well.

The thought of both Banite Sith Lords being Co-Chancellors terrified me. Yet, I had come to terms with the fact that, for the time being, there was little I could do to thwart their plans—certainly not more than I had already managed.

Maul was off the board, Dooku wasn’t going to become Tyrannus – the quest for him wasn’t completed, but I felt it insanely unlikely he’d become the Sith’s puppet – and the Mandalorians, one of the few warrior cultures in the galaxy that would be inclined to move against the Republic weren’t led by the di’kut New Mandalorians.

However, all of that mattered little if I lost Anakin. While I didn’t trust a Force vision to be a perfect indication of what might happen – my beskar-coated forearm a clear example of that – I accepted that for the Banite Sith to be defeated, Anakin and I had to work together.

But more than that, I’d made him a promise, to train him to defend and protect himself and those he holds dear, and even if I had to burn a world to save him, I wasn’t going to break that promise.

… …

… …

(Anakin’s POV)

He scurried forward, climbing over the remains of what appeared to be an X-31 speeder that lay against the current mound of junk he was making his way around. While it would be useful to climb to the top, given who was hunting him, he knew he couldn’t do so. That would only leave him exposed to any Trandoshan with a blaster rifle.

That fate had befallen one of the fourteen other children that the aliens had captured along with him before they’d arrived on this world. Anakin didn’t know where this world was, only that, after nearly a day of scrambling around the various mountains of debris – something he was basing on the planet’s sun slowly sinking over the horizon when it’d been rising when they’d landed – that it was one of countless such worlds, and often they were only known by an Aurenumerial code.

He’d been on the Trandoshan’s vessel for some time, though the exact time was hard to pin down as when he’d awoken the lizards had some of his armour. The vambraces, which contained a handful of non-lethal ordinance, and his helmet, which had access to the armour’s HUD, were gone. The rest of the armour was left; the lead Trandoshan had said that it would make him a more worthy kill during the hunt. While he, and the other children that had been captured, had been given food, it was worse than even what he’d had while a slave on Tatooine, and if not for the fact the Trandoshans intended to hunt them instead of selling them, Anakin feared he’d have lashed out and tried to escape.

After the lead Trandoshan had left, the air turning blue with the string of insults Anakin sent his way, he’d considered how to escape the cage he found himself in. Even without the advanced systems of his armour available to him, Anakin felt he could crack the lock. However, he ignored that idea, and the voices at the back of his mind that suggested he use the Force to escape. He’d also pushed down the bonfire of rage that demanded that he strike out against the lizards, that he didn’t allow anyone to ever again cage and enslave him.

Without knowing where he was, how big the ship he was on, and how many and where the other Trandoshans – there were always more than one of the ugly lizards around – were, he’d decided against it. The longer they didn’t know he was a Jedi – or at least one in training – the longer he’d have some tricks to help him when it came time to escape. Kriff, once the lead Trandoshan had informed him and the other children that they’d be heading to the hunting grounds, he’d managed to squirrel away a few devices that the Trandoshans had left lying around the bay and slipped them inside his armour.

He still had those tools, and with the amount of debris around them, he felt that, if he could find the time and the right pieces, he could use some of what was here to at least slow down the lizards. Cam was coming for him, and Anakin swore to himself and the Force that he’d survive until Cam arrived, and he’d do whatever he could to help the others survive as well.

Thinking of Cam made Anakin glance skyward. While there were lightyears between them, Anakin knew Cam was searching for him. It would take time to reach here, but Anakin knew Cam would arrive at some point; all Anakin had to do was stay alive until then, and keep as many of his new friends alive as he could.

With little to do while in his cage, he’d spoken with the other children captured by the Trandoshans. There’d been twelve when he’d first awoken, with two more added before they reached the world the hunt was taking place on. They came from various places and species, but all were around his age or at least his height. Some species grew faster than humans, and some matured faster, but no one in the cages was older than thirteen cycles.

Once they’d reached the planet they’d been roughly hauled off the ship and tossed out of the ramp. While lying on the ground, cleaning the dirt from his clothes and remaining armour, the lead Trandoshan had spoken. The alien had given them an hour to run before the hunt would begin.

While some kids had stood around, unsure of what to do, Anakin knew the Trandoshan was serious and tried to convince the others to run. Most had, but two – a Human boy and a Togruta girl – hadn’t. The pair had collapsed to their knees and began begging the Trandoshans to take them home. Anakin had wanted to convince them that they were wasting their breath, but he knew the longer he stayed near the ship, the greater the odds were that he’d die before Cam could arrive.

What seemed like an hour later, two blaster shots rang out over the world. Several in the group had started crying as they realised the two who’d stayed behind had been killed, something Anakin knew had happened as the faint spikes of fear and disbelief they’d echoed into the Force had blinked out with echoes of the blasters firing.

The voices from within that suggested drawing on the Force and striking back against the aliens had grown stronger in that moment, but Anakin hadn’t listened to them. Instead, after vowing to himself to keep as many of them alive as he could, he’d convinced everyone to keep moving. Of course, as he wasn’t the oldest, a pair of Twi’lek boys had argued they should be in charge and weren’t going to follow him. They and three others had headed off in a different direction, even after Anakin had tried to explain that they were better off staying together. There’d been sounds of blasters firing since that split, and Anakin had felt three more children die through the Force, but so far those who’d stayed with him were fine.

One boy, the oldest among them, had broken off by himself, feeling he’d do better alone and wanted nothing to do with Mandalorians. Anakin wasn’t happy about that, but he’d accepted the boy’s choice. Anakin was reasonably sure Kesh was still alive, but he couldn’t be certain as Kesh had been the last child captured, and he’d barely spoken with the dark-skinned boy before they’d arrived on this world.

With the sun slowly setting, Anakin knew the world was going to get cold. Well, colder as even when the sun had been directly overhead it hadn’t been that warm. He could use the Force, thanks to the training with Instructor Kefe, to warm himself, but the five who’d decided to follow him couldn’t. Also, while they needed to keep ahead of the Trandoshans, they couldn’t move at night. Not unless this world has a moon to provide light. Until they were sure it was safe to move at night, it was better to find somewhere to settle down for a few hours.

Anakin was surprised that the lessons he’d learnt while a slave for Watto were coming back, but as they moved through the debris, he’d seen various little bits of tech that, if he’d had time, he’d have enjoyed examining. Perhaps, when they moved out later, he could see what he could salvage as if the junk here was like what Watto had kept in his yard, then some of it might be useful against the Trandoshans.

They’d only searched one piece of junk, that of a downed cargo transport. It hadn’t been a large vessel, but the logo on a nearby cargo container had suggested the vessel might have food onboard. They’d lucked out when Plirs, a Weequay, had found a left-over crate half-full of rations designed to last forever. The food hadn’t tasted great, but it was the first meal they’d had since being released, and what they’d not eaten had been squirrelled away in their pockets. Anakin knew, again drawing on his memories of being enslaved, that it wouldn’t last long – perhaps three days if they were careful – but it was at least something.

As he reached the side of the hill he was clambering over, Anakin gazed at the nearby mounds, seeking a place to shelter. As much as he didn’t want to admit it to anyone, he was enjoying this. Not the being hunted by kriffing aliens – though he was beginning to understand why Cam hated Trandoshans so fiercely – part, but the fact he was being forced to fend for himself. Well, for himself and others.

The life-and-death stakes of the situation were thrilling him, fuelling his excitement as he pushed himself to the limit. The array of technology around him, which might have piqued his interest on another day, only added to his sense of exhilaration. His companions might think him crazy for finding any enjoyment in this predicament, but Anakin didn’t care. Not everyone shared his and Cam’s perspective. Some couldn’t find pleasure in such a dire place while being hunted. Perhaps that was why Cam was both Jedi and Mandalorian and why Anakin aspired to be both as well.

He forced his thoughts away from Cam, focusing instead on their surroundings as the Togruta female, Eshie, joined him. “There,” he said, gesturing toward a downed light freighter, half-buried two mounds away. “We’ll rest there.”

“Why there?” Eshie asked. Anakin turned to her, momentarily distracted by her purple skin, reminiscent of Baalta Iradel’s. He quickly reminded himself not to dwell on the Lokella—or more specifically, his sister Lia. She was safe with Ferox, and once Cam rescued him, Anakin planned to check in with Ferox to see how they were doing.

Ferox might have intended to marry his mother, but Anakin couldn’t envision him as a father. According to Mandalorian tradition, Cam was his adoptive father, though Anakin hadn’t fully embraced that role. Cam felt more like a big brother or cousin than a father. Anakin knew this wasn’t the Jedi’s ideal, but he didn’t care. Family and friends were crucial to him, even those he’d only recently met, like Eshie and her companions.

Cam had made it clear that, except for Master Dooku, Anakin was not to reveal their relationship to any Jedi. He found the Jedi’s prohibition against having family and friends to be foolish, but he understood that he had no power to change it. Moreover, Cam had emphasised that if the Jedi Council discovered their connection, they would try to separate them. That was the primary reason Anakin had agreed to keep their adoption a secret from the Order.

“It’s big enough and there’s a few ways in and out. Plus, as it's half-buried, we should be able to hide there if the Trandoshans get too close,” He replied to Eshie. While he was being honest, Anakin was also holding back. If the Trandoshans were using beasts to track their scent – he’d heard a few howls from something on the voyage here to suspect that was the case – then they might be found in the ship. However, Anakin had felt something in the Force, which he felt, if he was understanding things correctly, meant it was suggesting the downed freighter would be a safe, if temporary, shelter.

While he’d only had some teaching in how to use, draw upon, and understand the Force, Anakin had realised that it had always been there. The feeling of when or not, to do something, or go somewhere had been the Force guiding his actions. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea that it was controlling him, but so far it hadn’t guided him anywhere he’d not wanted to go, though he did often wonder if he’d not gone with Cam to the Lokella if his mother would still be alive.

Thoughts like that, as Master Dooku had remained him several times after his mother died, were dangerous. The past couldn’t, no matter how we might wish otherwise, be changed. Master Dooku was clear that one had to learn to accept what had happened and grow from it, though Anakin did wonder why, whenever he said that or something similar, he and Miss Vosa always seemed drawn to each other within the Force.

Once he was off this world, and if he was feeling brave enough, he’d ask Master Dooku about it. Until then, he’d place it, and his thoughts on Lia, the Force and almost everything else to one side. He needed to remain focused on this world, and those relying on him, so that when Cam came – and he knew he would – they were alive and well.

… …

… …

(Cam’s POV)

I sighed deeply, my breath steadying as I settled into the shadowed embrace of my room, lost in contemplation. The Force whispered through the darkness, a living current weaving its way through all that surrounded me. I sensed its rhythm in the very fabric of existence, a dance of energy that pulsed through the organic and the mechanical alike. Within Raven’s form, I felt the ancient currents of power intertwining between her living tissues and her metallic veins. Her presence in the Force resonated with familiarity, a reflection of the bond forged between myself, Fay, and the seedpartners of Sekot.

In the cockpit, Simvyl was watching the controls, his emotions slowly returning to normal as he accepted that what happened wasn’t his fault. In the cabin assigned to him while outside I knew HK was standing guard. Fenrir was at my door, his presence naturally cloaked to allow him to sneak up upon a target, though due to our bond, I always knew where he was.

Yet for all that, my focus today, as it had been in each session I’d had since Anakin was taken, and after speaking with Adas, was directed inward.

I felt the Force raging within me, a tempest of light and shadow clashing against the calm teachings of the Jedi, which guided me to surrender to its will. The storm of rage, ever-present and unyielding, surged from the echoes of the Bando Gora and the Vong, mingling with the flames of past indignations. In a life unshaped by the Force, controlling such fury was simpler, with the voices of desire and the raw impulses of my nature untempered by the vast potential of the Force. Now, with the Interface withdrawn by my choice, I had to confront those inner demons alone.

Drawing a deep breath, I turned my focus inward, embracing the war that raged within me. I would no longer cower from the darkness or suppress it with futile efforts. Guided by Adas' wisdom, I sought not to accept these primal urges but to transcend them, to command my actions and chart my destiny free from the fears and doubts festering in my soul.

I had long known that the path of the Jedi was not my true course. The Order, entangled with a corrupt Republic, had descended into the mire of its own decay, where the highest echelons were driven by self-interest, favouring their own and their allies over the common good. While countless dedicated souls laboured for the Republic across the galaxy, those in power—whether rulers of worlds, sectors, or senators—were consumed by their own agendas. This corruption, a reflection of issues from my former life, now seemed vast and incomprehensible, magnified beyond anything I had imagined before my rebirth.

A shift occurred within me; the Force rose like a serpent, intertwining with my darker inclinations, demanding I heed its twisted desires. This merging of the Force with my repressed urges was no longer to be cast aside as I had before.

I directed my focus inward, setting aside all other thoughts to confront this threat. I was in control, not the distorted desires of the Force shaped by my base needs. I would not be a puppet to these urges; I would master them. My fate was mine to determine, my path mine to walk. I was…

[BEEP]

My eyes shot open, distracted as I attempted to sink into a deep meditation by the sound of the intercom going off. I sighed as I shifted on my bed, annoyed that I’d not been able to keep attempting to meditate on Adas’ words and the ideals he’d suggested.

The Jedi path was one I’d known for some time wasn’t going to work for me. at least not how it was taught at the Temple currently. I simply couldn’t do as the Council and others continued to insist I do; releasing my emotions into the Force wasn’t possible because of Eidetic Memory. That power meant that my feelings for everything I’d ever experienced – good or bad – returned whenever I relived a memory. Those memories were both those I’d experienced in this life, and from what had come before, and many of them were impossible to ever accept and live with.

Perhaps there was some older method, something more than just the more simplistic but complicated Code that I’d taught to Serra. However, I’d yet to find any hint of something that might apply properly to me. Or to Anakin, as I knew the base Code of the Jedi would never work for him. Both the current form and its older variant, while having some use, weren’t something I could commit to, and not just because of the issues brought on by the Interface.

The seemingly blind obedience that most Jedi held toward the Force made perfect sense for them. they were born with the connection, and almost to a sentient, raised in the Temple to accept that. Like Anakin, I wasn’t raised by the Order, and with a lifetime of memories, experiences, and opinions predating my connection to the Force – filtered as it had been by the Interface – giving myself over to it completely simply wasn’t something I found I could do for any significant length of time.

The path followed by the Sith, or the Banite Sith since the order of Sidious and Plagueis was something entirely different from the Sith of Adas’ time, in both species and belief, wasn’t one I could see myself following either. While there were parts of their Code that held appeal, much like with the Jedi Code, it wouldn’t work for me.

I wasn’t, like every Sith that had followed Darth Bane, willing to work from the shadows. I preferred, as much as it might place me at risk, to be in the thick of the action. A trait that I knew Anakin would develop with time even if I’d not taken him as my Padawan. That was why I was slowly trying to draw upon Adas’ words to meditate and centre myself.

According to Adas, the thing I feared the most was losing control; be that to the anger and rage within me or the Force. He explained that the challenge that I faced was one every Force user encountered. That of taking control of their destiny and not being a tool for the Force or our baser instincts and emotions. To recover my direction, and my sense of purpose, I had to look deep within myself and face what lay within.

The fear that I would lose myself to my anger, along with the concerns of giving myself over to the Force entirely and the power that my connection with the Force granted me, were things I had to confront. That I had to accept were there and then overcome. I knew that if I failed in gaining control then all the potential I held with the Force, for using it to prevent the rise of the Empire and the rule of the Banite Sith, would be for nought.

The main issue was that after a half dozen sessions of meditating – or more accurately, attempting to – I was struggling to find my centre and overcome my fears. I was making some progress as the voices saying I should rip the knowledge I needed from Hondo’s mind, that I should flay every lizard I encountered until Anakin was back at my side, were quieter, but they were still there.

Another concern was that I was treading a path Adas had envisioned for me, one that might inadvertently lead me to become his spiritual successor. Adas had been an immensely powerful figure, uniting the Sith species under his dominion and expelling the Rakata—a feat rarely accomplished during their reign over the galaxy. However, I feared that if I was not cautious, my journey to defeat the Banite Sith and prevent the rise of their Empire might inadvertently birth something even more catastrophic, something worse.

Sliding from my bed, I took slow, deep breaths, pushing thoughts of what my future might hold, and centred myself on the present. “Yes?” I said, using the Force to activate the room’s intercom as I stood and moved toward the table where most of my armour rested.

“Got an incoming transmission from Mandalore,” Simvyl replied from the cockpit. While Raven was capable of flying by herself while in hyperspace, the Cathar and I felt better if one of us was present. It also stopped our passenger from asking questions about who was monitoring the flight, or attempting to sneak into the cockpit, though with HK an ever-present shadow, Hondo was – for him – behaving himself.

“Patch it to my armour,” I said as I slipped the first vambrace on. While I had weaponry built into my arm, I was still wearing the vambrace over it. While that did limit which of the extras within the arm I could use, the vambrace held a wider selection of tools. With Maul captured, I’d altered the loadout to carry a more lethal ordinance, though the non-lethal selections were stored in several secured containers in my room. There would come a day when I’d have to interact with Jedi, and since they still felt I was one of them, using such ordinance in the vambraces would remove some of their concerns about my choice to wear armour. Plus, there may well be times when I wanted a target captured and not removed, though hopefully by the time that was the case, I’d have regained most, if not all, of my Force powers; along with learning a few new ones along the way.

The vambrace beeped as the signal was routed to it, and a moment later a familiar face appeared. “Alor Adonai,” I said upon seeing one of the two dukes who’d allied their Houses with my Clan appear. While I’d never voiced it, I was confused why neither he nor Torrhen Ordo had moved to become Mand’alor. They were the two most powerful figures among the Clans and could try for the title, though I was glad they didn’t.

As Mando’ade myself, anyone becoming Mand'alor would place me in the position of choosing between officially staying or not following the Mand'alor and being labelled dar’manda: a traitor to our people. If the choice had to be made, I knew which way I would go, and I suspected Anakin would be fine with it, but an issue would arise with Serra.

Like me, she was Mando’ade, but as a Jedi Padawan, she had less freedom to make that choice. I still hadn’t spoken to her directly, as even when I called her after leaving Instructor Kefe, I’d been told my call would be routed to Master Windu. Not wanting that to happen, I’d spoken with Darihd, and for a brief moment, with Sifo-Dyas.

Windu was still controlling Serra’s contacts within the Order, though Darihd, Sia-Lan and a handful of others had spoken with her. The Togruta had informed me that she was doing better and seemed to be starting to accept Master Drallig’s death as the will of the Force, which was a relief. However, that Windu was preventing me from speaking to her directly was only feeding into my anger regarding Anakin’s capture.

Serra meant far more to me than Windu, and I felt I had the right to check up on her and know how she was doing, as while I didn’t regret Drallig’s death – not when it meant Serra survived – I felt I should try and let her know I was here if she wanted to talk. I suspected that Windu was keeping me distant from her as he felt – correctly – that the connection we shared had played a part in Drallig’s death, and had no choice but to accept it. Going to the Temple, particularly with how unbalanced I currently was, would only result in me being either confined to a cell or sent to one of the prisons the Jedi maintained for those the High Council felt had fallen to the Dark Side.

“Alor Cameron,” Adonai said with a tired smile, “how fares the search for your ad?” Adonai was one of those I had reached out to when Anakin was taken. I had asked him to keep the matter from Bo, knowing that she would drop everything to join me. While her eagerness was understandable, it could easily be interpreted as an affront from her—and by extension, House Kryze—toward Clan Shan. Anakin’s abduction was an internal Clan issue; unless I explicitly requested assistance from other Clan leaders, any outside interference could spark a diplomatic incident.

I had considered asking Adonai and Torrhen for help, but doing so would feel like conceding defeat, both as an Alor and a father. Moreover, I sensed that while Anakin was under stress, he was not in immediate danger. Though neither Adonai nor Torrhen would judge me harshly, the broader discontent against a Jedi being Mando’ade could be weaponized to undermine my position—and potentially the dukes as well. I was convinced that building a formidable Mando’ade force was essential to confronting the power of the GAR and CIS, and I was unwilling to risk that ambition with unnecessary political fallout. However, if Hondo’s contact proved ineffective, I might have no choice but to face the consequences and seek their assistance.

“I’m following what I hope will be a productive lead.”

“That is good. Neither I nor Alor Torrhen have heard word from those loyal to us of Trandoshans working in your region of the Outer Rim. At least not a group that is actively targeting children for hunts.” His distaste for the lizard’s behaviour was clear to hear and see.

“I had expected as much, but you have my thanks for reaching out.” Adonai nodded, accepting the thanks.

A glance at the chronometer on the vambrace told me there was still about an hour before we’d be exiting hyperspace. Since I knew I’d not have any further success with meditating on my internal issues, I figured I’d see if I could learn fresh intel regarding the Mandalorian sector. “How are things going closer to home?”

“For the most part, things are going well,” Adonai replied. He paused and glanced down and a few seconds later my vambrace reported an incoming file. “As I knew you might be interested in an update on the state of our people, I had Pre prepare a data package for you.” As he spoke, a small smile came to his face, as if he’d expected me to show interest in the state of affairs in the sector and among the Mando’ade.

“Please pass him my thanks.” I knew Pre disliked, if not downright hated me, so him having to provide this would’ve rankled, as would me thanking him for it. “And thank you again for the attempt to locate those who’ve taken my ad and earned my wrath.”

Adonai nodded. “Oya!”

… …