A New Player in the Force

There was the now-familiar whimper of disappointment from Raven as we exited hyperspace. It wasn’t any sound the ship generated, but a sensation in the Force that reminded me of a child’s wail of regret. However, it was soon replaced as she felt the light from a new star, once more enjoying the fresh experience.

Ahead of us, deeper into the system, lay the homeworld of the Echani, Eshan. That planet was one of six they controlled that formed because they were generally ruled by a matriarchy, the Six sisters. The only planet not controlled by the Matriarchal Council was Thyrsus, which was male-dominated and the planet from which the Sun Guard originated.

I’d encountered those whenever I’d met with Magister Damask as he employed them as guards. I was curious if he still used them now, or if, like Palpatine, he relied on the Senate Guard for his protection now that the pair were Co-Chancellors of the Republic.

The Echani and the Sun Guard were regarded, along with the Mandalorians, as some of the galaxy’s greatest warrior societies and preeminent combat specialists. While the Mandalorians and Sun Guard favoured heavier armour and power, the Echani preferred light-fitting clothing; fast, fluid combat and personal shielding devices. The difference in style was one reason I’d chosen them as a group to visit as, while he would mature in time, for the next few years, Anakin would always be surrendering mass, power, and reach in any battle he entered. The Echani combat style – which bore the name of species – would suit him better, and even once matured, would be adaptable into whatever style of combat – with and without a lightsaber – he focused upon.

Both groups had fought regularly against the Mandalorians, often allying with the Republic during times when they had crusaded and invaded Republic space. That meant there was some remaining animosity between the various groups, but nothing that should cause us any issues with finding an Instructor to teach us. Still, to be on the safe side, to make it easier to find someone willing to teach us, and as Echani – the combat style – relied on light to no armour, we’d be spending our time here in Jedi robes. That meant Anakin would have to grow out a Padawan braid, but I’d already promised him that if when our time here ended and he disliked it, he could remove it.

That had come up in the various talks we’d had since I’d first spoken with him about his actions against the Trandoshans and on the path that he’d been training toward for the next few years. The initial conversation had gone on longer than I’d expected, touching on matters I’d not planned to bring up with him, but that was fine. The same was true of subsequent chats, though those were generally as Anakin had wanted to know about my life before we’d met, specifically my time as a Jedi Initiate.

When he learnt I’d been born on a Core world, even if it were a relatively unimportant one, he’d wondered why I’d not been discovered by the Jedi much earlier. I’d explained that my mother had hidden my potential from the Order and explained that she’d done so because she felt my father was a Sith, and had left me with my grandfather to grow in safety. At least until I displayed Force Potential that my grandfather couldn’t hide.

To help him learn more about my past, I’d given him free access to my mother’s holocron. There was nothing on there that would pose a danger to him, as Ressa had used it primarily as a journal for me to discover once I was ready. I’d not mentioned where I’d found it, nor had Anakin yet asked, as the Vault was something I wasn’t bringing up until I felt he was ready. The cave had held a good number of surprises, not just my mother’s holocron and HK’s head. The beskar there, or at least the half that belonged to my clan, would be used for his armour once Anakin was older and had completed his verd’goten, which he was still adamant about completing.

The data files that were with Alor Torrhen, however, were something that outside of him, Lady Asta, and me, none were privy to. The files there, while millennia out of date, held designs that were believed lost to the galaxy. I suspected House Ordo was working on modernising them, but so far I’d yet to hear anything from either of the House leaders regarding that.

Those files, along with the fact my mother had believed my father was a Sith, could be used against me by members of the Jedi Order as proof that I was a threat to them. However, the only way they might learn of either was if someone spoke to them about it, and as the circle of knowledge for either was small and trustworthy, I wasn’t concerned about that fact. Haran, the only reason I had to return to the Temple at any point, outside my promise to one day show it to Anakin, was my friends within it.

There, one name, one face, dominated my thoughts. Thanks to Tedra, Darihd, and Aayla, I knew Serra was out of seclusion. However, when I’d attempted to contact her directly, the Temple’s communication centre informed me that if I wished to speak with Serra I had to contact Master Windu first. Given that I was still working on getting a handle on the changes brought on by Natural Selection, I’d decided against speaking with one of the Order’s most senior and powerful members. Even over the Holonet, there was a chance he might sense something was different and insist I return to Coruscant.

To get around that issue, I had to rely on the aforementioned friends to relay messages to Serra. They couldn’t outright reveal her replies over the Holonet since, given all calls to and from the Temple were recorded, someone might review the conversation, but they had been clear that she was getting better, and that she was happy to hear I was still thinking of her. Eventually, I knew I’d have to speak with her face to face, but for now, the indirect communication would have to do. Plus, the longer I held off on that meeting, the more time I had to consider how to broach the fact I’d captured and not killed Maul.

The last report I’d gotten from Torrhen was that the Zabrak was still heavily sedated and isolated in the prison. His sustenance, along with vital functions, were controlled by machines that monitored everything about him to ensure he remained in an induced coma while keeping him as isolated from the Force as possible. I knew that couldn’t be kept up indefinitely, but it would have to do until I felt I was ready to face him again.

Regarding Darihd, I’d learnt from him that Sia-Lan was actively bad-mouthing me to other Padawans. At least whenever the Knights and Masters weren’t aware. She still blamed me for what had happened with Drallig and Serra, and even though it wasn’t her business – beyond the fact she was meant to be a friend to Serra and me – she had chosen to ensure that as many Padawans as possible knew her side of the story, not caring what Serra or I felt about the matter.

I’d discovered that Darihd and Master Sifo-Dyas were soon to depart on a mission to Felucia. From what little he’d told me, it was to handle some form of trade dispute, but I could feel the shifts in the Force as he spoke. I felt it was time for Sifo-Dyas to be removed by the Sith to hide their involvement in the Clone Army being created by the Kaminoans. As I couldn’t outright warn him of a threat– since I didn’t know from whom or where it would appear – I’d instead hinted that I’d felt the Force moving, suggesting that the pair would be in danger.

It was frustrating that I couldn’t divert myself to help Sifo-Dyas and Darihd to ensure they remained alive, however, I’d accepted this was likely to be the case around the invasion of Naboo. The Clone Army was needed by the Sith, and if I inserted myself into the matter now, I’d end up squarely in their targets as a threat and while I would have been willing to risk my own life Anakin was still too vulnerable. As such, I’d accepted that I’d be losing a friend because of my folly of taking the Changing Fate quest for Sifo-Dyas, though that didn’t mean that, when the time came, whoever had been chosen to replace Dooku wouldn’t feel my wrath.

As much as it might anger people if they learnt of my choices, and the reasons why, Anakin was far more important than Master Sifo-Dyas and Darihd. This growth, his evolution into the warrior he was meant to be meant more in the grand scheme of whatever plan the Force had activated by creating him. As was, as much as I might not want to admit it, I. The Force had accepted my presence into its plan -whatever that was – for seeking balance, but I was reasonably sure how I might go about it was far from how it had hoped for Anakin to bring the balance it sought.

A gentle nudge from Raven drew my attention just before the communication console beeped for attention. “Thank you,” I said to the empty cockpit. Simvyl was resting while Anakin was training with HK, R2 and Fenrir, no doubt, was lazing around in the main area.

Accepting the call, a small hologram of a young-looking female appeared. “Salutations and greetings. On behalf of the Matriarchal Council of the Six Sisters, I welcome you and your crew to the Eshan system. However, as your vessel isn’t a scheduled arrival, nor one that our databanks have a record of, I must ask as to who you are and why you have travelled to Eshan.”

I chuckled at the polite but firm introduction the Echani had given. Most of the time, whenever I neared a planet, the responses had been – at least in the case of a new location – blunt, and that was putting it nicely. Here I’d been greeted warmly, but it was still clear that I was unknown to the locals. The other thing was that we’d exited hyperspace well back of Eshan, close to the innermost gas giant of the system. There were ships and stations around it and its various moons, but our arrival point, as was common of most hyperspace exits, was far from any intra-system commuter traffic.

“Hello there,” I felt my smile grow when I once more used that line, “I’m Jedi Knight Cameron Shan aboard my personal vessel, Jade Raven.” The woman’s eyes widened at the reveal of me being a Jedi, and unless it was a trick of the emitters, a fraction more as I stated my name. “Along with my Padawan and my co-pilot, I was hoping to spend some time, perhaps up to half a standard year, on Eshan studying the way of the Echani.”

The woman blinked a few times as if she was taking time to process what I’d said. “Thank you for the information. For now, remain outside the orbit of the fifth planet of our system. Someone will contact you shortly with further information.” The hologram faded away as the channel closed. I assumed they needed to run my arrival up the flagpole simply because I was a Jedi. As far as I knew, there were no issues between the Echani and the Jedi, but I’d only encountered two Echani Jedi in my time in the Order, and I wasn’t exactly keeping up with current Jedi business, so perhaps there was something I was missing about the situation.

We continued moving forward, deeper into the system, and it only took about ten minutes at a leisurely cruise to reach the orbit of the fifth planet. That was on the far side of the sun, but knowing we weren’t meant to go further, I had Raven slow, and we hovered in place, watching as other ships – which much have been regular transports – moved to and from the inner system.

“They’re taking their sweet time,” Simvyl commented as the chronometer in the cockpit showed it had been twenty minutes since we’d been welcomed to the system.

“Observation: I suspect they are trying to confirm your identity, Master, and then once they have, they’ll be determining where we should head. While meatbags, the Echani are capable combatants with decent, for organics, security measures.”

I chuckled at HK’s comment, which for him, was about as complimentary as he could get with most sentients. He might be firm in his belief that droids were superior to ‘meatbags’ but he respected cultures and individuals that understood warfare. That wouldn’t, as he’d just proven, stop him from burying insults in with his praise, nor me from enjoying every time he made such a comment.

The communication console beeped a few moments after HK’s remark, and opening the channel we were greeted by another Echani. This one appeared older, and given the increased number of badges, pips, and markings on their uniform, this one was far senior to the earlier Echani. “Greeting Master Jedi,” she began, lowering her head slightly as she spoke, “I am Arch-Justicar Ren Dalka; senior commander for Eshan orbital security.” My brow rose, wondering what I’d done to warrant being greeted by the head of this branch of their military. “On behalf of the Matriarchal Council, and Eshan High Command, I am honoured to welcome one such as yourself to our planet. From the report that crossed my desk, I’m led to believe you and those with you wish to study our ways?”

“Yes. I have more than a passing interest in the various warrior cultures of the galaxy and had hoped, alongside my Padawan and pilot, that I could study at least the basics of your martial art.”

“That is more than agreeable,” Dalka replied with a faint smile. “Perhaps we might even learn something from you.” Well, that explained why I was getting the high-roller treatment. “However, before I suggest a particular Academy for you and those with you to study at, perhaps we might speak in person on this and other matters?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Dalka’s smile widened. “Excellent. My adjunct is transmitting a flightplan to you,” the communication console beeper to signal the arrival of the file. “Please don’t deviate from this path, and I look forward to judging you in person once you arrive at my location.”

The channel closed abruptly, though given how busy this Arch-Justicar must be, it was understandable she’d only have a minute or two to speak over an open comm.

“Course entering into Raven’s computer,” Simvyl reported and as I dove deeper into the system, I noted the path would take us toward the northern pole of the third planet, which according to the Holonet was Eshan proper. That station seemed to be one of eight that hovered over the planet. Each of those, which seemed to have a permanent orbit over their location, was impressively large, twice if not thrice the size of Mtael’s Gift. In other places around the planet, Raven's scanners detected over a hundred orbital defence platforms. All in all, it was an impressive defensive screen, though lacking compared to what I’d seen over most Core World planets.

I suspected that the Arch-Justice would determine which Academy was best for us by sparring with me. The Echani placed immense importance on the idea that you only saw someone’s true face when you sparred with them. I just hoped I didn’t embarrass myself by taking on a career officer such as the Arch-Justicar.

… …

… …

I watched as impassively as I could from a balcony that overlooked and encircled the Sparring Square down below. There Anakin, wearing the standard training clothing of this Academy of tight-fitting but thin shorts and t-shirt, was stepping forward. He would be going again against one of the other students in his Creche. That was the term the Echani used for groups of students of similar skill – and in the younger groups, age – of trainees who were studying with them.

Just like with my Creche and the one Simvyl was in at another Academy a few hours' flight away, the majority of Anakin’s Creche was composed of Echani. However, while I was able to hold my own, at least against those from other planets, Anakin had been struggling since the first day. He was improving, and after three months at the Academy, that was easy to determine, but it was slow going. Thankfully, he wasn’t put off by the challenge, instead, much as I did, he was enjoying it; almost losing himself in the spars he partook in.

This academy had been Arch Justicar Dalka's recommendation after I sparred against her—and lost. Badly. I hadn’t drawn on the Force, fighting her on her terms, with nothing but skill and muscle memory to guide me. She took me apart though not without effort. After the match, she'd spoken at length—well, as much time as she was willing to spare—about my previous combat training and what I hoped to gain by studying under an Echani Master.

The Echani martial art itself was vast, with sub-branches and specialized forms, but amusingly, the Interface categorized it all under one umbrella: Echani. No subtleties, no nuance. Just Echani. Yet, in three months, I’d seen significant progress, thanks to the Interface’s assistance and my ability to pull from other combat arts I’d already studied. The Interface had generated a training quest specifically for mastering Echani, though I managed to tweak the system, bending it to my will. Rather than requiring new quests with each milestone, I streamlined it—one continuous quest, with all targets and ranks embedded within.

The rewards for lower ranks, like reaching Adept:1, which I’d achieved by the start of the second month, were modest—small amounts of XP. But once I crossed into the higher tiers, from Professional:50 onward, the rewards scaled exponentially. Maybe I was missing out on some extra XP by consolidating the quests, but the efficiency of this method aligned better with my long-term focus.

The Academy’s Battlemaster praised my progress, calling it remarkable, even when accounting for my prior combat experience. Yet, she made it clear that it would be months—perhaps even half a year—before I’d be ready to move on to one of the sub-forms. It was a hard truth to swallow, both understandable and frustrating. I knew it took time to build a foundation in any martial art before branching into specialized disciplines. But I also knew I wouldn’t be spending another six months on Eshan.

At best, three or four months more. As valuable as this training was, we couldn't afford the time to stay here indefinitely. Not when I’d budgeted only two to three years for us to learn from different cultures across the galaxy. We were approaching a year since the invasion of Naboo. Time was running out, and there was still so much left to do.

Anakin and his opponent, a local girl in his Creche, bowed to each other and then assumed their positions. The girl was from one of the other planets in the Six Sisters and was considered the best in Anakin’s Creche, though not in the year group the Creche sat in. A gong sounded, signalling the beginning of the spar, and I watched as the pair slowly moved around the Square. The girl wore a confident smile, which made sense as Anakin had yet to come close to landing a blow, never mind defeating her. However, Anakin didn’t react to it.

I could sense a spike in his annoyance at her behaviour, and at having to surrender the initiative when she thrust out her hands in a flurry of quick attacks, but at least he wasn’t losing himself in that annoyance. Nor, as he avoided the flurry, was he drawing too heavily on the Force, at least to bend it to his needs, as he moved forward to counter. He had a decent base in Beskar’pel as Bo and I had shown him the foundations, along with some elements of Teräs Käsi, but he was focusing on only using the Echani forms taught to him by his instructors.

What he was doing, which was what I’d instructed him to do before we’d entered the Academy, was drawing on the lessons with Instructor Kefe of the Matukai, and using the Force to increase his abilities slightly and slowly. Faster reactions, quicker movements, and greater processing of the world around us were key factors that Kefe had us focus on while only drawing upon a sliver of the Force that we could access.

While anyone with even a weak connection could do that, since Anakin and I had incredible potential with the Force, the fact we could do that, and still maintain a massive reserve of ability with the Force without risking exhaustion was a boon I really wanted him to focus on. I knew that, so long as he kept following the path I’d created for us, he’d grow into a powerful warrior. I just needed to be sure that he was the one who remained in control at all times.

The Echani girl swept out her leg, forcing Anakin to move back. As he did so, she moved the leg back in, yet she kept the momentum of the attack, twisting with it. There was a moment where Anakin could’ve attacked her while she had turned away from him, but an arm came out, sweeping forward of her turn as protection.

The leg that had started the move came around again, this time sliding out further as the girl leaned into the attack. Anakin leapt back, letting the flowing, graceful attack miss. That was a mistake I’d seen him make repetitively during our first month, as he didn’t understand that Echani relied on moves that flowed into each other, creating something akin, at least at the highest levels, to an almost rhythmic dance.

Anakin feinted to attack, but instead pulled it back as the Echani slid forward. He was being cautious to avoid falling for any trap the girl might be laying. Another sign he was improving as he wasn’t rushing into the fore without thinking and was learning from previous spars with the Echani. The girl’s attack missed, and Anakin countered, moving into the space she had left. His action was wise, but there was the faint hint of delay before he moved; something the girl used.

As her arm came around, knocking away Anakin’s palm strike before it could land, I realised Anakin was still hesitating. It was less obvious than when he’d started, but it was clear he was reluctant to fully trust the Force, to let it guide him in the spar. I’d talked with him about that, and I knew it was because of what happened with the Trandoshans, but while it was getting less prevalent, it was still there, and a gentle click from my right meant my latest friend, Giulia, had spotted the issue as well.

“He still hesitates,” she said quietly, not wanting her voice to carry beyond us. Not least as the Master overseeing the spar, and the one that was with us and our Creche up on the balcony, would force her into remedial training for disrupting the flow of a spar. “He is still haunted by whatever troubles his thoughts?”

“More by the emotions connected to them,” I replied, not turning to face her. Giulia was much like the girl Anakin was fighting, the best in her and my Creche. Given her training since childhood and her lineage as the grandniece of Arch Justicar Dalka, her skill was no surprise. What was surprising was how she’d taken an interest in me since my arrival at the Academy.

I wasn’t sure whether her interest stemmed from my status as a Jedi, my semi-fame due to Naboo, my connections to the Mando’ade, or some mix of all three and other factors. Whatever the reason, she’d been a frequent presence in my vicinity since my first week. Because of my skills and background, she’d tried to ensure we were each other’s primary sparring partners.

What I hadn’t fully grasped at the time was how deeply an Echani invests their soul and passion into their fighting. When engaging in a no-holds-barred battle, it could be more than just a spar—it became a dance, a way to lose oneself in the intensity of the combat. As I grew more accustomed to enjoying combat through Natural Selection, much of that enthusiasm carried over into my sparring with her. By the end of the second week and after our tenth nearly unrestrained match, Giulia had entered my room one night and made it clear she wasn’t leaving until I allowed her to stay. That was when I learned the truth.

“Understandable. However, the issue continues to hold him back when he fights,” Giulia said, her voice soft as she shuffled around. I felt her leg brush against mine, her hand resting near me on the railing. “It distracts him from the battle, costing him any chance of victory.”

I ignored her proximity, keeping my focus on Anakin. After nearly three months, I was accustomed to her presence and attention, though I remained vigilant not to let it distract me from observing my son.

“I’m well aware of that, and it was one of the reasons why I had us come to Eshan for training.” As I spoke, Anakin seemed to relax, and I felt the Force subtly shift around him. He wasn’t delving deeply into the Force, but I could sense him letting it suggest how he should move, how he should counter his opponent’s actions before they were even taken.

It was that ability, along with my greater real combat experience, that allowed me to quickly rise to third best in my Creche, and fifth best in our ability level. I knew I’d not catch Giulia before my time on Eshan was over, but I hoped to crack the top three rankings before that day came.

“Yes, but it continues to plague him,” She added, her hand moving closer, and her fingers sliding over the back of my hand. “Until he learns to trust his emotions, to flow with them, he will struggle.” She turned, drawing her sight toward me. “A failing, I am pleased to say, you don’t possess,” she added, her other hand coming around and resting gently against my chest.

I knew what she was doing, trying to draw my attention from Anakin and toward her. She loved pushing the boundaries of what the Masters and Instructors of the Academy would allow. Normally, I’d be fine with that, however, she was trying to stop me from watching Anakin, which was why I leaned my head away from her to again have a clear sight of my son. “If you ever wish to see what I am capable of again, then I would advise you not to distract me from watching my Padawan.”

“Ooh,” she cooed, her hand pushing against my chest. “How protective, as a father should be.”

“A Padawan is not the same as a son,” I reminded her even as Anakin was driven back. His opponent’s strikes were coming in fast now, and while Anakin was able to protect himself, each assault was forcing him to concede ground, something he was fast running out of.

That was often how his spars ended nowadays, at least when he didn’t overcommit or fall for a trap his opponent set for him. The first week or so of spars for him had all been lost because of that last reason, and while it still happened from time to time, that was more because the opponent was doing something Anakin wasn’t prepared for instead of his emotions getting the better of him. Two more attacks came in before one of Anakin’s feet slipped from the Square, and the gong sounded again, signalling the end of the spar.

Giulia’s smile widened at the sound. “It seems the spar is over,” she said, slipping across to block most of my view of the Sparring Square. “And with that, so is his class and the ring. Since it is now free, perhaps you might be interested in stepping inside once more?”

I opened my mouth, readying a response, only for it to die as I hissed instead. Before I could respond, Giulia had slipped a hand low and grasped somewhere she really shouldn’t in public. Given how we were standing no one should see us, she’d get away with it, but the action had caught me off-guard.

This girl, who I didn’t intend to keep in contact with once I left Eshan, was exceptionally good at distractions. Which, since I was highly focused on my and Anakin’s training, might be why she’d sought me out. The idea of driving a Jedi to distraction must hold some appeal, as it was a trait she shared with Bo. I wouldn’t deny that the thought of the two together had crossed my mind from time to time, but I wasn’t dwelling on it as the odds of ever seeing it happen were slim. Instead, I was enjoying my time with Giulia, as it helped pass the evenings when I couldn’t see Anakin, kept me occupied, and however slowly, helped me improve a group of skills I’d barely used since Naboo.

“That depends,” I replied, not bothering to push her hand away. “What are your terms?”

I stepped closer, looking over her shoulder at the Square below. Anakin was moving off with the girl he’d just sparred with, the pair joining the rest of their Creche to head to their next lesson. That would be a meditation session as I knew Anakin’s schedule like the back of my hand.

“The same as usual,” she replied, blowing as best she could, on my ear. She then slipped under my arm, the hand tracing a path around my waist.

I let her go, keeping my eyes on Anakin. My son had settled into his Creche well, and I was relieved that he was far too young to be aware of what a full, unrestrained spar meant to the Echani. I knew that talk was coming at some point, and that he was probably dreading it more than me, but the longer I could put it off the better I’d feel.

Turning, I followed after Giulia, my eyes fixed on her shoulders no matter how much she swayed her hips. Around us, the other members of our Creche watched. Some male and female, glared at either of us, not liking we were enjoying each other’s company. A few, again of both genders, seemed interested, but I wasn’t sharing her with another male, no matter how much they might desire her. So long as I was here, she belonged to me, and I supposed, I did to her.