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

[Idovelicus]

Yeah, this portrayal of Eidetic Memory doesn't sound like what it's named. It sounds more like PTSD but for literally every moment of your life, with more weight the more intense the emotions attached to any given moment.

 

[Warlord D Thorin]

there was quite a large tone shift in this chapter at the point when he started training with the shapers

 

[Idovelicus]

there was quite a large tone shift in this chapter at the point when he started training with the shapers

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That part makes sense, time skips will do that. Cam is in a very different headspace after months training in different circumstances.

 

[USSExplorer]

Honestly a lot of the recent chapters kinda feel like Cam is slipping to the dark side more and more. He's not balanced in the slightest, he's just rage and hate that he keeps bottled up inside. I don't like this. To be clear I don't care for the Jedi much either, but both Jedi and Sith are extremes at the opposite ends of a scale, and extremes tend to not be good. Really not liking cams thought processes since... I suppose since he started just bottling everything inside. Eidedic Memory shouldn't make him unable to let got of emotion. That's not how memory works. Time dulls the emotions related to memories after all. Even if he can't forget, over time the rage would lessen. Someone else said this, and I agree, Eidedic Memory is sounding more like it forces him to relive moments again and again, which is not what Eidedic Memory is IRL.

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This isn't IRL, and for ANP, Eidetic Memory has been that way since the very start of the story. The name was intentionally chosen to, in many ways, mislead Cam. Then, with the Interface filtering his connection to the Force, it dulled the emotional feedback of his memories. With that gone, he has to endure what that Player Power causes. At no point in the story, even waaayyyy back when I started this, were TPTB ever seen as 'good'. They gave Cam the option of where to be reborn for their amusement and even made bets on what he would do.
Consider them a little like Q from Star Trek, but with a meaner streak.

Add in that he's only had a few years to find something he would consider balance, and has turned to Adas for help, and it was only a matter of time until Cam began to fall. Adas knew this from the get go and has been subtly manipulating Cam towards the Dark Side. Not to become a Sith ala Sidious or Plagueis, but one able to 'break free' of his chains, and those imposed upon him by the Jedi and galaxy at large. (Think, if the reference works for you, Malgus later on in SWTOR).

Yeah, this portrayal of Eidetic Memory doesn't sound like what it's named. It sounds more like PTSD but for literally every moment of your life, with more weight the more intense the emotions attached to any given moment.

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In many ways it is, but even before being reborn, Cam was one who let his emotions get in the way at times. As seen by the mistake that led to his initial death. Eidetic Memory just makes it nearly impossible for him ever recover from everything he's endured.

 

[Storylover213]

Just a question if your claiming that their might be NSFW content should this be their instead of here just curious is all.

 

[USSExplorer]

Just a question if your claiming that their might be NSFW content should this be their instead of here just curious is all.

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There won't be NSFW content as it PWP or the like. I'll always stick to the fade-to-black approach.
However, something like what is shown and hinted at in the Fallen Apprentice arc, or the general horrors of war are what I mean for the story potentially becoming NSFW. The reason I've never asked for it to be moved yet is simply because I keep forgetting and don't think that such scenes/arcs are common enough yet to warrant the move.

 

[Ruy]

fade-to-black

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I have some scenes like that in space battles, so I think it is fine here. Same for the horrors.

 

[USSExplorer]

A/N: As always, a huge thank you to those helping with lore and planning for this and my other stories.

And again, this chapter was released to those of sufficient rank on the story's Discord (it pays to talk) about a month ago. For those who support my writing, then it was released between 1 to 4 months ago (and those supporters can also access chapters that far in advance).

If joining the Discord or supporting my writing interests you, there is a link at the end of the chapter for how to do so.

A/N (2): This chapter hasn't had the same careful looked over from LuciferBael as usual as he has begun his own story and then was challenged by a Smurf to get out 100k in 10 days.

LuciferBael managed the challenge, and the name of the story is at the end of the chapter, but if there's something that feels rougher than normal, blame the Smurf.

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3.09 Family and Training
… …​

The furnace whispered its surrender. The heat faded, the air cooled, and in my hands, I cradled the fruit of fire and will—a crystal, born of my defiance. This one had been forged with nothing but my strength of will and desire. I was still disappointed that the first attempt had cost me one of the two crystals I'd gotten from the crystal cave on Ilum, but with a replacement now in my hand I accepted the price I'd had to pay.

There had been another attempt before this one as well, where I'd tried to temper my rage in shaping a crystal, pushing other strong emotions that weren't associated with the Sith into creating the lattice of a crystal. However, that attempt had produced a flawed crystal, one Observe made clear was unusable in a lightsaber. I had placed it in my Inventory on the chance that one day it might have a use, but I was uncertain if such a day might ever arrive.

This crystal was forged in blood and rage, tempered in the fires of my refusal to yield. It was the reflection of my war—not against an enemy, but against the galaxy itself. Against what it demanded I become. It had taken days of constant effort, the third such effort inside half a month, but in the end, my efforts had been rewarded and as I held the crystal up, placing it between my fingers, I failed to see any sign of a flaw. Still, I had to be sure.

Artificial lightsaber crystal (miniature)
An artificial lightsaber crystal created by Cameron Shan.
This crystal, while capable of being used as a focus for the Force, is too small to be used as the single focusing crystal within a lightsaber.
HP: 15
Rarity: Unique
Value: 5000 Credits
Energy Value: 500
Attuned Users: Cameron Shan (100%)
Special Features:
Grants a minor boost to the usage of Force powers that a Force user demands the Force help them with.
...
​

My brow rose at seeing the slight boosts this artificially created crystal granted me, and curious about the differences I pulled the remaining crystal from Ilum from my Inventory.

Ilum Adegan Crystal (miniature)
A crystal from the caves of the planet Ilum.
This crystal, while capable of being used as a focus for the Force, is too small to be used as the single focusing crystal within a lightsaber.
HP: 5
Rarity: Uncommon
Value: 3000 Credits
Energy Value: 300
Attuned Users: Cameron Shan (100%)
Special Features:
Grants a minor boost to the usage of Force powers that work in concert with the Force.
...
​

​

It was interesting to see the differences between the two crystals. The Ilum crystal sang with harmony—a melody of millennia, a hymn of the Force as it wished to be. My crystal roared—a symphony of defiance, raw and untamed, its notes jagged and sharp.

The fact the artificial crystal was worth more than the natural one was an odd discovery, however, days of effort to make the crystal didn't suggest it was worth considering creating crystals for revenue. And that was before I considered how much my writings and holomovies were making me.

The Energy Value of the crystals, and other objects that had it listed, was still something I'd yet to determine the purpose for. It only appeared on objects that held strong connections to the Force, yet the more obvious possible uses – such as trying to store the Force inside them, or using them as focusing crystals for the Force had failed to achieve anything. I'd used some of the crystals I'd found on Dantooine when I'd visited there many years ago with Fay, as other than using one for the focusing crystal in my shoto lightsaber, and another for Padmé's lightfoil, they'd served no purpose until now. I was uncertain if I might ever learn the reason the Interface listed Energy Value with objects connected to the Force, and I was not going to commit more thought to discovering its purpose.

My thoughts right now were more on the fact Observe gave no hint the crystal I'd created wouldn't work in a lightsaber, and trying to contain my excitement, I pulled the various components – those that had survived the battle with Maul and those I'd had to purchase as replacements – from my Inventory. The small greater krayt dragon crystal and the Mantle of the Force were also taken out. Holding the Mantle in my hand, and knowing this would be the last time in a long time that I could do so, I used Observe upon the ancient Force crystal.

Mantle of the Force
(Unique Force Crystal)
One of two legendary Force crystals linked with Revan.
While the origins of this crystal have been lost to the ages, the potential it possesses has not.
HP: 20
Rarity: Unique
Value: 50000
Energy Value: 1000
Attuned Users: Cameron Shan (100%)
​

Special Features:
Enhances the benefits of any other crystals used in a lightsaber.
Grants a small increase in the potency of an attuned user's Force abilities.
​

...
​

It had taken far longer than I'd expected to attune Revan's former crystal to me entirely, and when I'd finally managed to do so, I'd not yet gotten Mechanics [Lightsaber] to the required level to allow me to add it as a fourth crystal to my old lightsaber. That restriction was gone now, and I was curious as to what boosts it brought to the two main crystals I would be adding to my new blade, and my ability to focus the Force through it.

I placed a clean, silk towel on the ground, ensuring that the various components didn't bring even a speck of dirt into what I was about to begin. This towel was one I'd been given years ago by Fay as a way to help clean and maintain my lightsaber, and to rest the components if I ever disassembled my blade to make alterations. I had everything I needed to create my lightsaber, though the casing I was using this time wasn't the one I intended as the final design.

For that, I would need to travel to Mandalore. One of the smaller teeth from the dragon I'd killed for my verd'goten – yet the tooth was still longer than my palm – would be used for the hilt. The inside of the tooth would be hollowed out and the components placed inside. The tooth would be coated externally in beskar, preventing anyone from destroying my blade as Maul had done on Naboo.

I knew many would see my usage of Mandalorian Iron in my lightsaber's hilt as a sign that my loyalties ran stronger with the Mando'ade than the Jedi, but that choice had been one I'd come to over the last year and a bit. If I had to choose, my loyalty lay with my fellow Mando'ade and not the Jedi, nor the masters they failed to question in the Republic.

That said, I had no intention of leaving the Order just yet. Staying a member of the Jedi offered many benefits that I intended to exploit, including potential access to the Archives with a focus on the Holocron Vaults. Dooku had ideas there, but I could think about those later. My focus now, as I made sure each of the components I would be using was clean and ready, was on building my new weapon.

I took one final look at everything that lay before me and then closed my eyes. I stretched out my arm, placing my organic hand above the towel, and after taking a deep breath to centre myself, called forth the Force. I felt it flow through me, understanding my desires, and moving toward what lay on the towel. My breath caught in my throat as I felt my connection to the crystals I would be using – even the dragon pearl – as the Force brushed over them. I'd never experienced that before, providing yet another reminder that Natural Selection had been the correct choice.

From the Ilum crystal, the connection was gentle and soothing. It was as if the Force was melding with me, granting me the ability to flow with its desires and help bring forth the path it wished for. From the crystal I'd just created, the Force was more energetic. Not turbulent, but definitely primal. It desired control or for me to dominate it and guide it to help create the galaxy I wished for. The Force in the synthetic crystal bore hints of my Force presence, in much the same way as Raven did, yet without the higher intelligence the living starship possessed. From the pearl, there were lingering hints of animalistic mentalities, yet it was the Mantle that drew my focus.

I could sense my presence within it, yet the way the Force flowed with, through, and around it was different: something unique. It felt as if it wished to work with other crystals, to help them become something greater as it, in ways I failed to truly understand, altered the very Force that slid through it. This aligned with everything Observe had stated, yet being able to feel and experience it was an entirely different matter than simply knowing it was happening.

Understanding now instinctively how the crystals responded to the Force and me, I created the weapon I wished to build in my mind's eye. I knew in my soul how the crystals should align, and how the various technical components would be placed around them. Understanding my desires and working with me, the Force shifted, and I felt everything that was to be part of my lightsaber lift into the air.

I took things slowly, not wanting anything to be misaligned, and had the crystals and components float around each other, finding the perfect positions to create the most powerful weapon. This task, the creation of a lightsaber, could only be done by one skilled in either using or working with the Force. The Jedi and Sith were the obvious choices, but I felt others, such as skilled Shapers, could create a weapon of similar potential. To create a weapon of this magnitude demanded more than a connection to the Force—it demanded mastery. Precision. A will unbroken and unyielding. This was not an instrument of peace or war. It was a monument to power. A singularity of purpose that could rival the stars themselves.

Time dissolved, a casualty of my singular focus. The Force bent to my will, shaped by my purpose, moulded by my command. There was no partnership here, no harmony—only control. Each component, each crystal, moved where I demanded, the galaxy itself aligning with my design.

Eventually, uncertain of how much time had passed though it felt as if I had only just closed my eyes, the last piece slid into place. This was the configuration I needed, the one that would work best with me, the Force, and how I wished to use it. I moved the temporary hilt forward, sliding the assembly inside it, and then sealed the hilt with a latch that could only be opened by someone using the Force. Others could attempt to build a lightsaber, but only one skilled in the use of the Force could create a hilt for which the latch to gain access to the crystals and components was stored internally.

I opened my palm, and the hilt glided toward me. My fingers closed slowly around it, taking ownership of my new lightsaber, and as I felt the Force react happily to my creation, my eyes opened so that I could see what I'd forged.

I couldn't help but smile as if I were a youngling in a candy store as I took in the weapon I'd created. The hilt might not be the final one, but the familiar curved nature of it and the simple pommel felt comfortable in my grasp. This weapon was one built by and for me, and I now felt complete.

This blade was as much a part of me as my mechanical arm was, more so even. The parts might not be made of flesh and blood, but the blade was an extension of my will. I turned the hilt over, marvelling at what I'd created. It was smooth, with the ignition switch being stored internally.

Once the final casing was ready, I'd be adding other options as well, all of which would also be stored internally. Well, all but one of them. The only external extra would be an in-built DNA scanner in the grip. That was to ensure that even if another Force user activated the internal switch to ignite the blade if their pattern wasn't stored in the hilt then the blade would fail to ignite. The other features, such as the ability to work underwater, or alter the length of the blade on whim, would be internal. They would only work if my hand grasped the blade, so none could interfere with my weapon, nor turn it against me.

I stood slowly, careful to not let the hilt slip from my grip, and quickly moved into the standard opening stance of Makashi. Without trepidation, as if I knew the blade would work perfectly, The blade ignited with a whisper—a predator's growl echoing across the ages. The sound curled in my ears, primal and alive. It was not a weapon. It was a heartbeat, a howl, a promise. I smiled—a predator's smile—as the glow bathed the room. This was no Jedi's weapon.

"Interesting," I muttered, my gaze fixed on the blade's crimson edge. The red bled into the darkness of the core, consuming the light. It was not a deviation—it was an evolution. A mark of what I had become. The change must have come from the crystal I'd created that now lay at the heart of the weapon. The black light at the blade's core, which seemed to consume all light around it, darkened the red of the edge, but even so, I knew many would see this and assume more deeply that I had turned to the Sith.

I should've seen this coming to be honest. Almost every Sith blade – be they of the Banite line or one that came from before Ruusan – had borne a red artificial crystal at its core. Why, when I'd used the same process, should my blade be any different?

Now, there were some Jedi who used a red blade, but those crystals were naturally occurring ones. Much like the one I'd found on Dantooine that I had used in the creation of Padmé's lightfoil. Those Jedi with such blades were rare, with only black being rarer. In theory, the fact other Jedi had wielded red blades should absolve concerns from the Order, but I knew for a significant faction, it would only increase their distrust of me.

Jon Savos and Master Belfarr had always been the two most vocal voices against my presence in the Order. Others, such as Masters Windu and Piell had grown more accepting toward me, though I knew they still harboured reservations about me and my intentions. The newest voice to speak against me was Sia-Lan Wezz.

The former friend had turned, choosing to speak negatively about me because of what had happened to Serra and Master Drallig. That was disappointing as while we weren't that close, I had enjoyed her friendship, and watching her movements while we sparred. The girl was very blessed in ways that I could appreciate. Yet for all that, I was fine with losing her friendship.

She and the others could say what they wanted. I would deny it, of course, but it was amusing that they were right that I was a threat to the Order. Just not, perhaps, in the way they believed. The path I lay on was different from the Jedi, and so long as they made no move to prevent me from travelling where I wished to go, then I could ignore them for now. In the future, as war swallowed the galaxy, I knew I would find myself across the battlefield from the Jedi at times, but that was far enough away that I didn't allow it to concern me greatly.

I stepped forward, guiding my new blade through one of the base velocities of Makashi. The movement was, as it had been for years, perfect. Yet now, with the Force flowing freely and a blade crafted by my intentions, the action was smoother, perhaps even easier and more efficient. The blade slid around, moving so easily and accurately that it was as if it could sense and anticipate my intentions and desires. This blade was an extension of me, and moved in perfect alignment with my actions, letting the Force flow through and around us.

My smile grew wider, threatening to encompass all of my lower face, as I worked through more of the velocities of my base form. My feet shifted, bringing in the Ataru footwork I'd adopted into my personal style. My movements became easier, more fluid and graceful as the Force shifted with me, accepting my intentions, and acquiescing to them.

For the first time since Naboo… no, since my rebirth in this universe, I felt complete. I'd never understood just how much of a part of someone their lightsaber was until this moment. Around me, the world fell away as I moved through various velocities. Nothing else mattered for the time being, not Anakin or others I cared deeply for, or my slowly developing plans for the future. All that existed was myself, my lightsaber and the Force.

… …

​

---

​

… …
I pulled back, avoiding the fist that rushed toward my face, yet as the hand opened, I understood what was to happen but didn't react in time. A second later I was flying through the air, landing with a thud in the dirt around me.

"Osik!" I spat out and slammed my fist into the ground, angered at again failing to stop Simvyl from taking me down. Yes, I'd agreed to not draw on the Force heavily while we sparred, and yes he had become a far stronger warrior since Naboo – when he was still as good as most of the Mando'ade – but this was getting fucking annoying. What made it worse was the pleased smirk the Cathar had as he moved toward me.

"That's seven-six to you," he says as he extends a hand. "As much as I'm enjoying taking you down, I can tell something is bothering you."

I grunt in annoyance even as I take the hand. "Perhaps you've just gotten better than me over the last week," I snapped back, though it would be clear to even a youngling that I don't believe my words.

Simvyl sighed. "Cam, in the time since we first met, I've seen you fight hundreds of times, and sparred with you more times than I can count." My mind instantly supplied the number, revealing to be north of seven thousand, though some of those were spars that bled from one into another so might not count as individual spars. "Yes, ever since Naboo I have grown stronger by joining you and Anakin in your training, and I am grateful for you helping me become an even stronger warrior, but don't lie to yourself. For each step forward I've taken, you've taken a dozen more at least. I barely manage to score a single point in our spars and yet all morning you've been off. A hair too slow, a fraction late in responding. Even a blind, deaf, and dumb gundark could tell something is bothering you."

I look at Simvyl carefully as I consider his words. Since we first met on Zonama Sekot he's matured, and while still young at twenty-one, he has evolved into a powerful and skilled fighter. He is someone I consider a good and trusted friend though I know I've spent more time since Naboo training Anakin than interacting with him. He has never hinted at being upset about this and worked hard to join our training when and how he can. Yet for all that, I know that he still has some way to go before he reaches his peak and becomes one of the greatest ever Cathar warriors.

I grunt in annoyance at his words and kick the ground at my feet. "It's complicated," I mutter as I watch the clump of dirt I just kicked go flying away, "and has much to do with where we are."

We landed on Mandalore about a week ago, and I quickly sought out the Mando'ade metalsmiths so that they could create the hilt I desired. However, it turned out that my exact idea wasn't feasible, and they suggested something slightly different. Instead of creating a simple coat of beskar to go over the tooth, the metalsmiths told me they could infuse the metal into the tooth, making the entire thing stronger and allowing the natural colour of the tooth to remain, though enhanced by the distinct ripples of beskar. I was overjoyed at their suggestion and asked them to create it, and while it wasn't yet finished, they assured me it would be but another day or two until I had a weapon worthy of a true Mando'ade in my hands.

Word of what I was creating leaked to the two most powerful figures in the sector, and over one dinner Dukes Adonai and Torrhen – though both barely used the Republic-created titles for themselves – had asked me about the weapon. Between the pair of them, they controlled nearly seventy per cent of the sector and had the loyalty of nearly sixty per cent of the people. The rest, while not openly backing the pair, chose to follow decrees they passed, suggesting one or both could attempt to become Mand'alor.

Neither had however and while they both said it was because they felt unworthy of the title, I knew there was more to it. There was already a reigning Mand'alor, Jango Fett, though he had no interest in claiming the title, or at least using it to unite the clans. Instead, he had devoted himself to bounty hunting, becoming, unless something had heavily altered in this timeline, the template for the Clone Army and using Kamino as his base of operations white he raised his son, Boba.

Jango had become Mand'alor when his adopted father and the last to claim the title through strength of arms, Jaster Mereel, was betrayed and killed. Jango had avenged his father's death but afterwards turned his back on his people. Tor Vizsla had styled himself the secret Mand'alor and ruled via the Darksaber, and while Jango had killed him, I knew that Pre had the blade and was working to become the next Mand'alor. However, like Adonai and Torrhen, he didn't seek out Jango and challenge the bounty hunter to single combat.

There was a good reason for this, as from what I'd seen of his fighting, Jango was a greater warrior than any of the three. Because of that, until Jango died, or some new and unexpected challenger emerged who could defeat and kill Jango, there would be no Mand'alor to lead the people.

I didn't know for certain that Jango was on Kamino, beginning the training of the clones, but given many other warriors – names such as Vhonte Tervho, Kal Skirata, and Dun Marod who had all fought for me on Naboo – had gone missing, I felt it was a safe bet that he was there. The project was, as was always intended by them, under the control of the Banite Sith. The question was, with Sifo-Dyas dead, who was the puppet that Sidious had ordered to take control of the project?

I was heavily interested in the clone project, but knew that turning up on Kamino without an excellent reason to head to such an isolated system, would draw the suspicion of the Kaminoans, and through them, have the Banite Sith know that I knew of Kamino. Such a move risked exposing that I knew more than they thought I knew, and as I knew I was far from ready to take on either of them, never mind both or with Anakin in tow, then the longer they remained unknowing of the extent of my knowledge, the safer it would be for me and those I cared about, and it was two such people that had left me distracted all morning.

As I'd known would happen, the first night I was back on Mandalore, Bo and Naz had dragged me to bed, wanting to make up for our time apart. I had happily indulged those needs, though their suggestions that I challenge the dukes and attempt to become Mand'alor myself were ones I ignored and avoided. I wasn't strong enough, at least not without the Force, to defeat Adonai or Torrhen, to say nothing of Jango.

"Complicated as in dangerous, or complicated as in involving your females."

Simvyl's insightful comment drew my thoughts away from the future of the Mando'ade, and I chuckled at how easily he'd hit the nail on the head. "Where females are involved, is it ever anything but both," I responded, drawing a snort of amusement from him.

I turned and looked to where I knew Keldabe lay. Somewhere in the city, with HK and R2 as escorts, Anakin was being led around by my two lovers. I knew that Anakin would be heading to a Mandalmotors design facility later today – Alor Dred had allowed my request for Anakin to research some of his ideas at Dred's company's facilities, though on the promise that if the boy wished to have his designs made, that Mandalmotors had an opportunity to consider helping – but beyond that he was at their tender mercies as to what they'd do and where they'd go.

Fenrir was further to the south of me, enjoying himself deep in a remote forest. I'd left him there two days ago, letting him be the alpha predator he was, and I'd felt semi-regular bouts of delight from him. No doubt that meant that he'd either made a fresh kill, defeated a challenger or even both.

Simvyl and I had headed out to this open field so that we could spar and so that I could take my mind off the offer Naz, and less enthusiastically, Bo had made last night after our latest evening of carnal pleasure. However, it seemed their offer was haunting my thoughts and distracting me from the spar.

"They seek offspring?" My head snapped back to Simvyl, shocked at him knowing what the ladies wanted. He chuckled at my reaction. "I may not be Human," he explained, "but the mating dance has many similar actions regardless of species." He took a long sniff of the air. "As usual their scent is all over you this morning. Add in that you all are over the Age of Responsibility, what I now know of how important offspring are to Mandalorians, and that through Anakin you have shown yourself to be a good father, is it any wonder they wish to bear your progeny?"

I smirk at his words. "You are a touch too diplomatic and formal about their request, but you are right." I turned around and looked toward Keldabe, to where the two women who had taken space within my heart were. "I'm not opposed to having children, nor with them being mothers to my kids. It's just…"

"You fear for their safety because of the war you have made clear you know is coming?" I nodded but kept my focus on the city hundreds of miles away. "Understandable, but illogical. You are a warrior, Cam, an alpha in the most animalistic sense. Deny it you might, but you seek this war and look forward to it. That means you also want to establish your dominance over the coming darkness, which you believe will be perhaps ten years from now." I nodded again. "Then why are you afraid of bearing younglings with those you love? If you deny yourself the chance now, then as the war grows closer and the danger increases, the chances your offspring will be capable of surviving decreases. It is both logical and primal that you have your children now so that when the war comes, you have prepared them for it as best you can."

I grunt in annoyance at the wisdom in his words and begin walking toward where Raven is parked. "You're right."

"Of course," he responded with a smirk. "But I feel there are other concerns you have about taking your women and having them bear your progeny."

I fought back the image that formed in my mind of Naz and Bo, my cum leaking out of their bodies after I'd impregnated them. That was something I didn't need to see currently, not even in the deeper corners of my mind. "The Jedi," I said slowly, responding to his inquiry. "If they discover I have children, they will seek to test them, and if they display aptitude with the Force, will want to take them to the Temple and deny me access to them. And of course, the fact that, while not a requirement, most Mando'ade would be expected to marry those with whom they share a child."

We were within sight of Raven now, and I moved to a small crate I'd brought out, knowing there were chilled bottles of water inside. As I reached the crate, Simvyl spoke up again.

"I can't speak for Lady Vizsla, but we both know that Bo-Katan has about as much interest in marriage as you do in becoming celibate." I choke at his blunt, but arcuate comparison. "Even with the emphasis that Mandalorians place on family, she's something of an outlier."

"True, but Naz is another matter, and not just because she might like the idea of being bound to me," I say as I reach into the crate. "Her father… well, it's clear he dislikes the Jedi, and me even more so. She was engaged to the heir of another clan, and while that is over, I believed that the heir is still interested in her, so taking Naz as mine would cause issues with that clan as well as Alor Pre."

Simvyl caught a bottle as I tossed it to him. "Are any of them strong enough to challenge you for her hand?"

"Pre perhaps, but I know I can take him," I say as Simvyl take a sip of his water.

"Then it doesn't matter," He said after his sip, "as much as there was a time when I would've felt insulted to say this, Mandalorians are not unlike the Cathar. We might claim to be civilised and obey expected Republic norms, but we are a warrior people, as are the Mandalorians. For our peoples, it is strength or arms, both personal and clans, that matter and not who has the highest office, or who holds the most credits." He grunted and shook his head. "Perhaps that is the failing of the Republic," he muttered to himself, but his words reached me regardless. "If they dislike your arrangements with Lady Vizsla and Bo-Katan, then they can either challenge you about it and lose, or know their place and mind their tongue."

"Is this how Cathar society works?" I asked before drinking some of the water in my bottle. I could've said more, but I'm interested in what else Simvyl has to say. I've spent much of the morning going over the matter of children with Bo and Naz in my head, and I find that I'm enjoying having a male to speak with. Simvyl has, without me realising it, become my closest male friend. Hells, with Darihd dead, he is possibly my only male friend. That is both amusing and slightly concerning.

Simvyl smirked, exposing his fangs. "To a degree, yes. But then all cultures work along similar lines. At least where the influence of the Republic hasn't twisted their ideals. To those in the Core and worlds like them, power comes from credits and political influence. On the more remote worlds, or those home to species and cultures like the Cathar, Zygerrians, and Mandalorians, sentients understand that while credits and influence grant some control, true power belongs to those with the strength to take it. That, when push comes to shove, the galaxy belongs to the warriors and not those who seek peace and understanding."

My head tilted as I accepted and agreed with his logic. The Core is flawed and corrupt, something easiest to see on Coruscant but present elsewhere. What amused me about his statement was how, even if he would never know it, how close some of his ideas about what true power was and what it meant aligned closely with those of Adas.

"As for your concerns about the Jedi taking your progeny, I feel there is little for you to be concerned about." My brow rose questioningly at the certainty in his voice. "Mandalorians dislike the Jedi, thus I'm sure they have ways to falsify the records of the Force potential of any born into their culture. If you are still concerned that the Jedi might seek out your children regardless of the test, I suspect Duke Adonai in particular would be willing to ensure your name is not on any public records regarding the parentage of the children."

I looked at him, impressed with the insight. "Such a simple deception wouldn't fool the Jedi or Sith, and the moment they learn either of the ladies are with child, they will move to take the baby, knowing it's mine. It won't take them much effort to take either, no matter how hard Bo and Naz would fight, they're no match for a Jedi Master or a Sith Lord." I smirked as I finished my bottle and then used the Force to levitate the crate. "It's not exactly a secret how close I am with the pair."

Simvyl chuckled as we moved to enter Raven. "No, it certainly isn't," he said, "I believe half of the city has heard your couplings over the last few nights." A wide grin spread over my face at the idea I might have kept others up while Bo, Naz, and I partook in carnal desires with each other. "Still, while you are right that neither of them would be a match against a Jedi or Sith, we both know they would not face such a threat alone. Their clans, and perhaps much of the sector, would take up arms against any attempt to take one of their children or interference in Mandalorian affairs by the Jedi or Republic."

I didn't reply immediately, instead working to ensure the crate was onboard and settled on the floor. Simvyl made it sound as if the Mando'ade would declare war against the Republic if the Jedi took any children I potentially had in the future. I, however, doubted that would be the case. Oh, I'd expect their clans to seek vengeance, but only them. That said, the idea of Bo and Naz launching a two-woman assault on the Temple, and doing considerable damage to it, was quite amusing.

"Thank you for your counsel," I said once the crate was secure, and I had asked Raven to close the ramp. "You've helped me see the path I might take. Though I warn you that any lack of sleep you get from tonight onwards is your own fault."

He laughed good-naturedly at that and patted my shoulder. "I shall ensure I have aids to block out external sounds then. As much as the glances I get from others because of your behaviour amuses me, I need my beauty sleep."

"That you do," I snapped back with a grin. He smacked my shoulder as we both laughed at the joke though before anything else could be said or done, the comm unit in my arm beeped for attention. A simple tap opened the channel, and a small hologram of a familiar person appeared. "Osto, what can I do for you this morning?" I asked the heir to Clan Ordo.

"Cam," he replied, making clear instantly that this was a social call, "just wanted to check in with you and Simvyl. We've got another game of Meshgeroya planned for tonight."

I smirk at the revelation. "We're game, but I thought you'd be tired of losing so much," I responded, commenting on the fact that in the five games that we'd played so far, Osto had always been on the other team, and the score was four-to-one in my favour when it came to victories.

Meshgeroya was the Mando'a name for Limmie, a popular sport played throughout the galaxy. Amusingly, the name translated into 'The Beautiful Game', which fit well as the game bore a lot of similarity to football from my former life. The biggest difference, beyond the size of the playing area, was that it was far more violent, at times bearing more similarity to rugby than football, and thankfully had none of the more recent 'improvements' brought into football that had slowed things down and sucked some of the enjoyment from the game.

The rules of Meshgeroya weren't too different from football, so I took to the game easily, and since that first game, Simvyl and I had always found time to play it with the Mando'ade around our age. Beyond the building camaraderie that brought forth, it helped Simvyl become further accepted by the Mando'ade.

"Today will be the day you fall, defeated and broken at my feet!" Osto proclaimed dramatically while pumping his fist in the air. A moment later we all laughed at his comment, and he then continued. "I just wanted to be certain. This evening Gar and Tor will depart on assignment."

I nodded, remembering that Gar Saxon told me that he was, along with about twenty others including Rook Kast, Bryn Tyri, and Tor Vizsla, heading to the Gaia system. There they'd help the Lokella train their warriors for future raids against various slaver groups, and advise on ways to improve planetary and system defence.

There was something oddly poetic about Gar heading there to train the Lokella when it had been his father who had led the first assault from Decca the Hutt that attempted to re-enslave the, at the time unnamed group. He had long accepted that my killing of his father was honourable, even the actions of his father were not, but I still at times found it odd how easily Gar and I had become, if not friends, then comrades in battle.

Gar was aware that many Lokella wouldn't be happy to have a Saxon present on Mtael's Gift, but he was unconcerned by it. He had chosen this assignment aware of that issue, and like any true warrior would face the challenge head-on. I'd believed him for the most part, but still used the Force and Observe to confirm his honesty on the matter.

What was interesting, at least to me, was that Tor Vizsla, the son and heir of Pre and Naz's older brother, would be joining Gar and the others. Since the assault on Keldabe at the start of the most recent civil war, Tor had become a vocal opponent to the Death Watch, so much so that Observe didn't register it among his loyalties, though he retained a strong loyalty to his father. Tor's hatred toward Death Watch would infuriate Pre, as that man intended to rebuild the Death Watch in his image and, after either defeating Jango in combat or learning the bounty hunter was dead, proclaim himself Mand'alor. Though perhaps not as much as how close I was to Naz, or that through her Tor and I were becoming comfortable in each other's company.

One day, based on the quest I had for him, I knew Pre and I would face off in battle. If, as was the most likely option, I was forced to kill him in that battle, it would be interesting to see how Tor and Naz responded to that. I expected Naz to be sad but accepting, even – if we had children by then – that I proved her choice in taking me as her mate. Tor, however, was going to need watching, which was why the growing friendship with him was a useful thing in that regard as well.

"What time will we play?" I asked Osto.

"The usual," He replied.

I checked with Simvyl and got a nod, confirming he was interested in playing. "Then we'll see you then," I said to Osto before closing the channel. I started heading toward the cockpit, Simvyl walking with me. "I guess we'll have to pick up Fenrir earlier than I expected."

The Cathar chuckled. "I'm sure he's going to love that."

I laughed. Fenrir was going to hate having his hunt cut short, but I knew we wouldn't be spending much longer on Mandalore. The beskar metalsmiths assured me that the hilt for my blade would be completed by this evening, and I wanted to depart from the planet by tomorrow night at the latest.

Anzat was to be the next culture that I was to train with. Simvyl had expressed interest in learning from a race known to produce some of the most dangerous assassins, blood trackers, and hunters in the galaxy. Anakin, however, wouldn't be joining this training. He was too young, and I didn't want him around a species that, even if they didn't do so to every outsider, were known to feed on the lifeforce of others.

Now, only the most feral of Anzati tried to feed without thought, but I wasn't going to place Anakin, someone with the highest Force potential in the galaxy – if not of all time – into such a place. He would remain on Raven, guarded by Fenrir, HK and R2. I'd see what I could go about coming back to train him when I could, but regardless I'd be leaving detailed instructions of what he should do and when; along with permitting HK to gently enforce my rules.

Of course, before we could go to Anzat, I had to gather up my oddball family and say goodbye to friends and lovers. Perhaps, if the timing was right, leave one or both with the gift they desired.

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I rested on the ground, my knees taking most of my weight while my lower legs were bent under me. I kept my backside off my heels, as that was part of the instructions the Guardian of The Way had given me when I, and around fifty others had entered the Hall of Testing at this Sanctum of The Way. The Way was how the Anzati referred to the overarching martial art they followed.

I'd learnt this, and a bit more about the world when we arrived in orbit about a week ago, the Star Marshall who greeted our arrival providing a decent overview of how to learn The Way. There were five Sanctums upon the planet – all located on one of the two northern continents, where those wishing to learn The Way – be they Anzati or off-worlders – could attempt to prove their worth.

The Sanctums only opened on certain dates each year and were very particular about which sentients they would take as an Initiate of The Way. Anyone who failed a Sanctum's Trial had to wait half a year before reapplying to another Sanctum, and if one failed to gain entry to any of the five Sanctums, then they were unworthy forever of learning even the first steps of The Way.

Those taken as Initiates trained at the Sanctum where they had proved their worth for however long it took to be determined by the Guardians to attempt the First Judgment. Completion of the First Judgment saw an Initiate become an Apprentice and then be able to choose the path they wished to walk.

The most common path taken by off-worlders was the Path Of the Hunter; a route dedicated to warriors who fought with distraction and diversion. The two other most common paths were that of the Tracker and the Assassin. Most Anzati favoured the Path of the Assassin, which was why to the galaxy at large they were generally regarded as a race of that profession.

I was unsure as to which path I wished to follow, but from what little I'd managed to gather from the locals while Simvyl and I waited for the next Sanctum Trial, I found myself seeing use in the Path of the Assassin and the Path of the Hunter. Training to use the Force in subtle ways to slip past and engage targets, while not ideal to how I generally fought, would be a useful set of extra skills in my arsenal and could be of use if Dooku's hints of a plan to redistribute some of the treasures of the Jedi Temple developed into more duracrete plans.

A faint grunt of struggle drew my attention to my right. There I saw Simvyl resting in the same position as me, though it was clear he was fighting to maintain it. When we had first entered the Hall of Testing, assuming the position we were in was easy, yet as the hours stretched, and the sun slowly set somewhere outside, many of those in the room began to fall from their position, be collected by one of the Attendants monitoring us, and sent home.

One hundred had entered the Hall yesterday afternoon – I was sure a new day was upon us as I could see the sun rising outside – but now only twelve remained. Simvyl and I were the only non-Anzati remaining, as the other off-worlders – about ten – had failed during the night. It was clear that Simvyl was struggling but I could feel him drawing upon what little connection he had with the Force to strengthen himself. That was a sign the teaching of the Matukai had taken hold with him, and a clear indicator of his improvement over the last two years.

The challenge that lay before him, was to remain as he was as we waited for the Trial to end. I had no such issues, the Force granting me the strength to easily endure this trial, but I hoped that when it was time to become Initiates, Simvyl was still with us.

… …
As the sun rose high above the hall, increasing the temperature inside, I looked around. We were down to seven remaining, and impressively one of those was Simvyl. He had been struggling all morning, sweat flowing freely down his brow, but I was proud of my friend for not giving up. I was uncertain of how long we had been here, but I felt we were slowly approaching a full day in the Hall.

There was an unpleasant odour in the Hall, the result of two who failed during the morning losing control of their bodily functions. They had been escorted from here by the Attendants, embarrassment at their public humiliation evident on their faces, but no effort was made by the Attendants to clean up the messes left, nor nullify the smells. It hadn't taken me long to realise they, or more like the Guardians, left the issues to further test those of us who remained. In their place, I might not do the same, but I could see the use of taking advantage of the unexpected opportunity.

The doors at the front of the Hall slid back, drawing everyone's attention. We watched cautiously as Grand Guardian Frauq stepped into the Hall. He looked at all of us in turn, his eyes lingering on me more than any of the others. "Be at ease. The Trial has ended. You have proven your worth as potential Initiates." He paused there waiting for us to shift from the positions we had been in.

None of us moved at first, either fearful or curious that this was some form of final test. The Grand Guardian chuckled at our reaction. "I assure you this is no trick, no test or challenge you must face." He clapped his hands and the Attendants around the edges of the Hall stood. Most moved away though four came into the centre, moving to clear up the issues left by those who'd failed embarrassingly.

Seeing that, everyone shifted. I could tell they were all tired – their hands rubbing their calves to regain feeling in them – but I had no such issues. Even if I didn't have the Force to ease my burden, Player's Body ensured, even as altered as it now was from when I'd first been reborn in this galaxy, that such physical issues were heavily minimised.

I moved around and sat cross-legged, waiting for the others to recover and the Grand Guardian to continue. "Each of you has proven your dedication to taking your first steps on The Way," he said slowly, a faint outline of a smile creeping onto his lips. "In the coming hours, the Guardians of this Sanctum will speak to you in turn, seeking to know what your purpose here is, and thus determine which Path might be best suited for you. However, you will not begin any Path until you prove yourself worthy of being more than an Initiate. I warn you that for many it can take years, even decades, to gain such skill. Many depart this Sanctum never reaching the next destination on their voyage along The Way, though I have hopes that some of you here today," again his eyes focused on me, "will impress myself and my fellow Guardians."

The Grand Guardian stood at that and nodded. At that signal, the Attendants that had departed returned, bringing with them trays. My nose perked up as I caught the faint, but growing stronger, hints of food. While I didn't need the same sustenance as others – due to the Force and Player's Body – hunger was still an issue I faced.

Two of the Attendants – both females who offered me demure but hungry smiles – placed their trays at my feet. Lifting the lid from the bowls I saw one brought what appeared to be rice and vegetables, the other a hot broth with a strong and very distinct scent.

I offered the Attendants a nod of thanks and then reached down for a spoon, curious as to how the broth tasted, and then later, how the discussions with the Guardians would go. I had not hidden my status as a Force user from the Anzati when I arrived in the system, though they, like many, had simply assumed that meant I was a Jedi. That was true enough, but it did amuse me how that was always the first-choice others made and when the time came to leave the Order, it was something I could exploit if I so wished.

… …

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I moved through the paths of the Sanctum, about half a month into my training here. So far that had revolved around simple training focusing on ensuring that I, Simvyl, and the six others with us knew how to move silently around a location. The Guardians also taught us, or in some cases re-educated us, on how to move through the shadows, mindful of any – be they organic or mechanical – that might be seeking to find us.

After the meal following the First Trial, I had spoken with three Guardians about my intentions. They were impressed to see another Jedi coming to them to learn – it was uncommon but did happen on occasion – and they explained to me the purpose of training with the Anzati.

At this sanctum as an Initiate, I would work on drawing on the Force in subtle, almost untraceable ways. The intent was never to overwhelm a target, but to distract, disorientate, and dissuade them while moving toward whatever target one who follows The Way had.

Already that training had begun on nullifying the sound we generated as we moved. With my immersive Force connection, doing so was easy, but I was working hard on making such actions something I could do with the slightest effort. I wanted it to become as second nature to me as breathing; something that would always be used even when I had little or no use for it. The Guardians that were teaching us had decent potential with the Force, or at the very least their skill was such that they could sense if I drew too heavily upon it, helping to guide me to the point of manipulation of the Force that I desired. I wasn't there yet, but I knew I was close.

In the coming weeks, the Guardians would advance the training, teaching us how to mask our scent to further improve our ability to move about without detection. Once that was mastered, and I intended to do so as quickly as I could, then the training – the final section of that for an Initiate – would be using the Force to brush against the minds of others and guide their attention and thoughts in ways that allowed one following The Way to move past them unseen.

Everything about how that trick was applied sounded similar to Force Persuasion, the gentler form of the common mind trick the Jedi used that Master Fay preferred. Thinking about that had me wondering how Fay's task was going. It had been around three years since she left with Satele Shan's holocron to locate Tython, I knew she still lived as I could sense my former Master through the Force, but beyond that, I remained unaware of her progress.

I hoped she was successful as the more she could bleed off Jedi unwilling to fight in the coming war, or even better who wished nothing to do with the Republic at large, the fewer obstacles I would face in the future. Yes, such an action would also help the Banite Sith, but for now, my goals aligned slightly with theirs, so actions that could benefit us both were acceptable.

I would normally have spoken with Adas in my quarters aboard Raven about the training the Anzati had placed me through so far, however, there had yet to be an ideal time to do so. Since being accepted as an Initiate, I had been sequestered in the Sanctum, sharing a room with Simvyl. I trusted he would not question the holocron, nor speak of it to another, but I could not be sure if there were any listening and watching us while we rested.

Access to my ship, and more importantly Anakin, was why I was moving through the Sanctum today, heading for a meeting with the Guardians. Even if they granted my request, I would not be using the ancient Sith holocron. Adas likely had already sensed Anakin around me, but I would not speak with the long-dead Sith Lord with Anakin anywhere nearby and risk the Sith trying to corrupt and manipulate my son. When he was older, ready for what I had learnt from Adas, then if he so desired, I would teach Anakin what I had learnt, but access to the holocron would never be his. That path carried too great a risk to even consider.

Anakin would not become Darth Vader, and join the Banite Sith, but I understood now, after over a year and a half of interacting with the Force normally that, just as with myself, the darkness that gave birth to Vader was within Anakin. The challenge I would be facing in the next decade was teaching Anakin how to accept that darker part of himself, that part that was always there, and not allow it to take control of him, and drive him down a path of rage and anger from which he would be lost to the Dark Side, possibly forever.

As I passed a pond in the Sanctum, fish of some form swimming freely within it, my mind rolled back to my early days as an Initiate and my ideas about Balance, about how one should be able to draw on both sides of the Force by channelling the correct emotions. I understood now that those ideas were, to be gentle, impossible.

The ways in which one used the Force, what most termed the Dark Side and the Light Side, were almost discordant. The base ideologies of those two Orders were simply irreconcilable. You could have a Jedi that was more aggressive and drew on their impulses to make decisions (which I was sure many would feel was a good description for me), but they ran the risk of getting lost in their needs and placing personal desires over any sense of what was good for others. Or you might find a Sith that would try to not place their selfish needs ahead of things that might help the greater good. However, in each case, the sentient ran a high chance of slipping and shifting to the other side of the Force. Trying to be both Sith and Jedi, both Light and Dark, would only lead to one's mind shattering as it tried to reconcile the two paths.

Interestingly, this was, at least according to what I could discover in the Jedi and Celebratus Archives, what had happened to Revan. Hundreds of years after defeating Malak, and falling in love with Bastila, he had left her and ventured into the galaxy seeking out a threat. That threat had emerged centuries later as the Sith Empire fought a decade-long war against the Republic and the Jedi.

Yet it was after the rise of something called the Eternal Empire – the Celebratus archives had little on the exact details, and what I'd seen on the matter in the Jedi Temple had been highly restricted even as a Knight – Revan had somehow returned. Reading between the lines, he did this to stop a Sith Emperor who may also have controlled the Eternal Empire, and in doing so split his soul. The Light and the Dark within him were unable to reconcile their need to defeat this Sith Emperor with how they would do so.

In the end, Revan had been stopped from whatever insane idea his Dark Side had produced, but if his soul had split, then how had I spoken with him in the Crystal Cave on Ilum all those years ago, and what the fuck had happened back then?

I shook my head, pushing those thoughts aside. Every time I spent more than a few minutes trying to determine what had happened, I ended up with a migraine that would shatter duracrete and drive my mind close to shutting down. Perhaps one day, if he ever reappeared, I could ask my ancestor about how he could become one with the Force when his soul had severed itself, but given I'd yet to see him in the decade since that meeting, I wasn't holding out much hope of that happening. Nor of my completing the quest he gave me.

As I neared the Guardian's Quarters, I pushed thoughts about Revan and the Force away. There were two guards outside the building, each holding impressive-looking pikes that I had confirmed via Observe were coated in phrik and cortosis. Their armour was blaster-resistant to a degree and an interesting mix of practical and ceremonial. I wasn't sure where they gained the phrik and cortosis for their weapons, but I knew this was not the only Sanctum that would have such weapons, suggesting an impressive supply was available to the Anzati government.

Seeing the guards my mind turns back to the first afternoon as an Initiate. Two of the more senior members of the Path of the Hunter provided us with a demonstration of their capabilities. They moved with impressive speeds – not on-par with what either I or Anakin could, but beyond what most without a strong connection to the Force could manage – striking and avoiding each other with fluidity and grace. Simvyl struggled to follow the fight, but I had no such issues and found myself mesmerised by the deadly dance the two Hunters engaged in.

Afterwards, the Grand Guardian had spoken to me, impressed that I had tracked the movements of the Hunters so easily. He spoke of the last Jedi to train here, which had been Master Tholme who I knew in passing, and how it was always illuminating to have one of the Order train with their Assassins, Trackers, and Hunters. What the Great Grandmaster was surprised by was learning that I was a Jedi Knight. It seemed he had believed me a Padawan sent by my Master to study with them, and not a fully-fledged warrior of the Order.

"Why are you here Initiate?" one of the guards asks as I come closer. "The dormitories and training facilities are over there." He uses his pike to gesture in the direction of where those places are.

I bowed, showing respect for them, and acknowledging that they outranked me. "I have come to speak with the Grand Guardian. He is aware of my request and bids me to arrive at this time."

The guards looked at each other and then at me. It was early evening, less than an hour after dinner, and one of the few moments when Initiates were not in lectures, training, or spars. That I would use that small amount of free time when the Guardians were not pushing us to our limits, to seek out the Grand Guardian was unexpected.

One of the guards lifted his arm and accessed a small computer interface on his vambrace. As he did, I watched the sun slowly setting to my right. Anzat had a twenty-eight-hour day, and our training took up much of that time. Nearly twenty-two hours in total, with only four hours allowed during the night to rest. It didn't take a genius to understand the Guardians were pushing us past our limit, forcing us to keep going even when barely able to. Unlike the others, however, I had the advantages of being a Jedi, Player's Body, and a Meditation skill that was maxed. With those working in concert, I could negate any weariness my body and mind experienced.

It was because of that, and not being able to train Anakin while inside the Sanctum, that I was here to speak with the Grand Guardian. I hoped that even if just a few times each month, I might be allowed to return to Raven to monitor Anakin and test his progress.

"The Grand Guardian is expecting you." The guard said after something flashed on his vambrace. "You may enter and will be escorted to him. Do not attempt to deviate from your path, or escape the notice of your guide."

I bowed again, accepting the orders, and ignoring the tone the guard used. He was just doing his job and not, I felt, targeting me because I was an off-worlder. I entered the building, my mind already devising altered training patterns for Anakin if my request was granted, and the extent to which HK could go to ensure Anakin followed my plans.

And perhaps, while I was there, I might see how my son was coming along with his two projects.

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I slipped forward, moving from the wall I'd just scaled toward a row of bushes five metres further in. My steps were silent, the Force working in an almost inconceivably small way to dull the sound of my steps so that even I failed to hear myself as I moved. I was also using it to mask any scent I might produce. I could feel the Force swirling around me, subtly asking me to use it, offering its services, wanting me to rend every threat in the compound I'd just entered to pieces. I refused to do so. This challenge I faced was based on my skills and subtle usage of the Force, not overwhelming power. Failure to complete it sufficiently would deny me the chance to advance beyond Initiate, and prevent me from learning some of the greater skills those who followed The Way had.

Two months had passed since I, Simvyl and five others had been accepted as Initiates, and while Simvyl was doing well in his training, thanks to my ability to draw on far more reserves of the Force, and years of combat training before being reborn, I had advanced faster than him or anyone in our intake. This exercise, to infiltrate a compound, locate the target terminal, and then exfil without being detected was my Test of the Initiate; a chance to show that I was ready to learn more, and I was not going to fail it.

The major difference between this exercise compared to the various training drills we had been put through by the Guardians over the last two months was that this was a live-fire exercise. If the guards found me, they would shoot. The only small upside was that their blasters wouldn't be set to kill, just a form of stunning that induced great pain.

To prepare me for what might happen, one of the Guardians had shot me with a blaster with that setting. Even knowing it was coming and preparing for it, I had been driven to my knees. My senses had struggled to remain active as every nerve ending in my body felt as if it was on fire. At that moment, the Force came to my call, and only the barest thread of control and the knowledge that this was something I had accepted as needing to happen prevented me from lashing out. From using the Force to eviscerate the Guardian who had dared induce the pain I had felt.

I was relieved that I had been able to control my rage during that demonstration and knew that if I'd come to Anzat not long after taking Natural Selection, I'd have never been able to contain my rage. Sithspit, even before Naboo I wasn't sure if I'd have had the control – at least without Player's Mind – to not lash out at those who'd dared to hurt me.

I stayed still in the bushes I was in, looking around the compound. The Guardians had made clear that beyond the three objectives of infiltrate, locate the target, and exfil without detection, I was free to use all the skills and weaponry at my disposal. I had chosen to not bring my lightsaber, as this was – even if I was to be shot at – just a training exercise. The use of the lightsaber would make it far too easy to maim and kill any who got in my way and certainly cost me any hint of anonymity.

Instead, I had a simple blade along with a holdout blaster at my hips, and the tools located in my mechanical limb. The Guardians, while aware that I had the replacement, and understanding and accepting of it, remained blissfully unknowing of the extras the limb possessed. Ideally, that would remain the case even after this exercise, but if not, the myriad of tools I had at my disposal would ensure that I could escape without detection regardless of whether I found the required terminal or not.

I went still as the sound of movement reached my ears; the Force boosting my senses to make it easier to know what was happening around me. Staying low in the bush, I waited for the guard – there should not be anyone here but guards – to approach while examining the map of the compound that I had overlaid on my minimap. I was still several metres, and at least two paths, from coming into sight of the central building that contained the terminal I was to access. Yet as I stayed there, listening as the guard grew ever closer to my location, I felt something was wrong.

The guard was unaware of me, I was sure of that. Yet within the Force, there was a distant echo. As if something was happening elsewhere. Not on Anzat but off-world. The faint sight of blue flashed through my mind before I drew my focus back to my location.

The steps grew closer, and the crunching of gravel louder, as the guard walked along the path. I stayed still, trusting my cover, the skills I had learnt, and the gentle applications of the Force I was using to keep me hidden. The rules of the exercise said the guards wouldn't have anything like night-vision goggles or scopes, but I wouldn't put it past the Guardians to change those rules without telling me. I stayed low, using the bushes to mask my presence and waited for the guard to draw ever closer.

I listened carefully, tracking the sounds of his movement, and comparing them to the compound's layout on my minimap. As the sounds of his footsteps moved away, heading along the path, I stayed still. The routes and timings of the guards weren't given in the briefing so I had no certainty as to when or if the guard would turn and come back.

Once the steps became quieter, and the minimap confirmed he had moved around a bend, I slipped forward, sliding under the bush so that I could see the path. There was no moon in the night's sky, but using the Force to enhance my sight I saw the faint shifted sections of gravel where the guard had stepped. Pushing myself up to a kneeling position, I noted the marks in the gravel and the next row of vegetation.

Those bushes weren't as tall or dense as the one I'd just moved under, meaning it would be harder to avoid detection once in them. I looked both ways, searching for a better route. However, two trees, each about three metres from me on each side marked the end of the bush: the ground beyond them being open and exposed.

The bush across from me was my best path. At least unless I wished to sneak around the walls of the compound seeking another route toward the central building that contained my target. I felt that path carried more danger. The guards would be more alert to shifting shadows and unexpected sounds the closer they were to the walls. Deeper in the compound, the odds were higher that they might be less alert to a threat, thinking those further out would find a danger before it moved inward.

I moved over the path, placing my feet gently into the indentations the guard had made, and reached the other bush. My steps were muffled by the Force dampening any sound I made, but I still moved slowly, not wanting to risk a sudden mistake that might expose my position.

Sliding low, I slipped under the bush and crawled forward. Yet before I was fully under the cover of the bushes, I heard the sound of shifting footsteps on the gravel. The guard had turned and was coming back. Not wanting to be found, I pulled myself as much as I could under the low bush. Then, as the sounds of the footsteps grew ever closer, I called the Force to me, bending it around myself as a sort of second skin in a way the Guardians called the Unseen Façade that they had been teaching me over the last few months.

The Force would distort my appearance, in theory making it difficult for any to be able to focus upon me. In well-lit locations, that would make it harder for others to shoot at or attack me, and in the darkness of the night, as it was now, it would allow me to remain unseen even if someone were almost on top of me. In time, I would be expected to use this new power to hide from the detection of droids and mechanical sensors, but I'd yet to begin such training as that was considered an Apprentice-level skill. Provided I passed this exercise, then I should move to that rank and begin more advanced training. That said, I could already see how it would in theory work, and with two droids at my disposal if I couldn't learn it before my time on Anzat was over, I'd be able to learn it for myself.

As I lay there, unmoving and waiting for the guard to pass by, my thoughts drifted for a moment to the Jedi Shadows. Master Giiett had suggested on occasion that I would be well suited to serving with that subset of the Order. However, while I was skilled at subterfuge and able to think outside the box, I had grown to prefer being in the heat of battle instead of slipping around the edges of it to cause damage others wouldn't notice until it was too late.

The training that Giiett had provided me with when trying to convince me to join the Shadows – at least before his death – bore similarities to much of what the Anzati Guardian taught and wondered if the other Jedi who'd' come here – such as Master Tholme – had been Shadows themselves.

I refocused as the guard came to a stop almost on top of me. I remained still, waiting for him to move yet preparing to strike. Darts in my arm would render him unconscious in an instant if he spotted me, however, such a move would place a severe time restraint on the exercise. Either the guard would wake up in four or five hours and remember what had happened, or another would find him; either by walking along this same path, or by him missing a check-in.

Time seemed to slow as I readied myself on the chance I was detected. My heart rate remained steady even as I felt my body and the Force wait for my signal to strike. The idea to cast a false sound elsewhere in the compound came to mind. It was not a trick the Guardians had suggested, but one Fay had taught me years before. I'd never needed that power before, nor had it registered as a Force Power back when the Interface tracked such things, but it was an option if the guard lingered for too long.

Thankfully for me, the guard resumed moving, heading back in the direction I'd first seen him coming from. I stayed still listening intently to the sound of his steps, as the gravel crunching under his feet grew ever quieter. Once he was far enough away, I shifted, moving through the bushes toward the centre of the compound.

Once out from the bushes, I looked around. Ahead of me was a flower bed. There was no way I could move through it without damaging some of them, which risked giving away my presence. I could move around it, but either side offered no cover on the small expanse of grass before. That, however, was acceptable for now as my location granted me a clear line of sight of the central building in the compound, and where on the top floor the terminal I was expected to access was located.

At five floors tall, the building was a good ten metres above anything else in the compound, which made it easy to use as a point of reference. However, the downside was that scaling the outside of the building would be troublesome as I'd be visible to anyone who looked at it from the side I climbed up.

The terminal on the fifth floor was special in that it was air-gapped to the networks running in the compound, and supposedly the only one used for accessing several highly classified files that I needed to duplicate. The problem was always going to be gaining access to that terminal, and as my eyes scanned the base of the building, the difficulty increased exponentially.

The only visible entrance – I could make out two sides clear and catch hints of the third – lay before a large open expanse of gravel. An area of around ten square metres in size. Two guards stood at their posts on either side of the door, and as I watched, I saw at least four guards moving around near the sides I could see.

I could get past those guards, or at least I thought I could. However, doing so would either take too much effort to do so without alerting them or if I took them out, draw the attention of the other guards before I had completed my assignment.

My eyes searched the building, spotting windows on each of the floors between the ground and the fifth floor. However, as I looked closer – the Force granting me impressive depth of vision – I noted that all were locked from the inside. To make matters worse, along the edges of the building, shaped in ways to hide their presence with the architecture, I saw what I assumed to be sensors and cameras.

That removed the idea of taking out the guards, as I'd be seen by others before I was close enough to take the two guards down quietly. Oddly, I smiled as I understood the cameras were an extra layer of security, one not mentioned by the briefing before the exercise that was designed to catch out any who chose to rush the building in a desire to reach the terminal.

My gaze moved to the building's roof. From what I could see from my vantage point, it appeared flat. In theory, there would be some way to enter the room I wanted from there, however, getting to the roof would be a challenge. The sky might be black due to the missing moon, but using the Force to leap onto the roof would make it highly likely I would be spotted, if not heard as I landed.

My gaze shifted around, seeking a way to reach the roof of the central building without being seen by guards or cameras. There were a few smaller buildings nearby, though none within easy jumping distance. Some were close enough that I felt I could make the leap with the Force boosting me, and ensure that no one saw or heard my actions. Yet, as my eyes focused on one building in the corner of the compound, out of the way and seemingly unimportant, the Force subtly shifted.

That drew my attention, and I examined the building as best I could from my location. There was nothing seemingly important about it, and it lay far from my target, with only a single guard patrolling nearby, yet the Force was implying that this building might be of use. Curious about why that was, and knowing I had until the first light of the morning – about six and a half hours from now – stretched over the compound to complete my assignment, I decided to investigate.

At the very least being able to watch the target building from another angle might offer a way into the target. And at best… there might be a way to complete the challenge without needing to risk discovery.

… …
"Why were you drawn to the building you ended up entering?"

The question had come from one of the three Guardians that I was standing before. It was a few hours after the exercise had ended, and it was confirmed that while I hadn't accessed the terminal in the main building, I had completed it successfully.

"A feeling," I replied, thinking back to the small building the Force had guided me to. As I drew closer I discovered several instances of hidden security around the building, which only served to further my curiosity. "The Force hinted to me that there was more to the building than met the eye," I added as the Guardians looked at me. "Unlike the other buildings in the compound, bar the primary target, this one had more security than one would expect. Because of that, I decided to trust the Force and investigate further."

As it turned out, the building the Force guided me to had a terminal in it as well, one that connected to the supposedly air-gapped one on the top floor of the building I was meant to infiltrate. I had copied the files from the new terminal and then slipped from the compound without being spotted by any guard or sensor.

"You abandoned your orders?"

"My orders were to access the terminal in the main building and copy the files on the secured terminal. Whether I could or could not complete that, I was expected to leave the compound before sunrise without being stopped, or ideally detected. The target building with the terminal was too heavily guarded for there to be much chance that I could gain entry without being detected. Deciding that remaining unseen and learning as much as I could about the compound that night, so if allowed I could return the next, was the prudent course of action."

The three Guardians turn to each other. I could see their lips move, yet was unable to hear what they were saying as they discussed my actions. Soon, they turned back to me.

"The exercise is deemed a success," one of the Guardians stated, drawing a small smile from me. "Few Initiates ever consider accessing the secondary buildings, and fewer still locate the secondary terminal. Interestingly, you are the tenth Jedi to train at this Sanctum in my time as a Guardian," which, from what I knew of how long an Anzati could live, could be centuries if not millennia, "and all have located the secondary terminal. However, only five including yourself accessed said terminal."

"Because of your performance, we deem you to be ready to take your next step in harnessing The Way. Well done Apprentice." I bowed in thanks for the promotion. "We should state that an increase in rank brings with it a more gruelling training schedule. We are aware the Grand Guardian has permitted you to depart the Sanctum one night a week to train your Padawan. However, with your new training schedule, you shall only be granted two evenings of rest each week. You might also be sent to another Sanctum for additional training if we felt it would benefit your journey in harnessing The Way to do so."

I frowned at hearing that. While the increased training would help with the quest I had linked to my time here – which was focused on the skills of Stealth, Sleight of Hand, Lockpicking, and Perception, it would mean my time with Anakin might be curtailed.

"An Apprentice of the Way is pushed to the very limits of their physical abilities," the third Guardian said, "pushing you past the limits of your species and testing just how long you can rely on the Force for support. We understand that this might interfere with the training of your Padawan, and as such grant you a choice which needs to be made by the end of the day. Either you accept Apprentice training, and all that entails, or your time with us will see you remain as an Initiate; barely being pushed to improve yourself or harness The Way."

I bowed in thanks for the time to consider the matter and stayed there until the trio had left the room. Once they did I stood up and sighed. Anakin disliked only seeing me once a week as was, and while I should be able to keep seeing him as an Apprentice, I feared that I would not be able to do much training, or even supervise much of his training if I became as worn out and ragged as the Guardians were suggesting.

I left the room, and knowing I was under the clock sought out a quiet corner to meditate on my choice.

… …

​

---

​

… …
As I neared the ramp to enter Raven, I suppressed a yawn. The training I was undergoing now as an Apprentice of The Way was more tiring and strenuous than the Guardians had hinted at. Two nights of rest a week, at no more than four hours at a time, was stretching me to my limits, and with me needing to keep returning to my ship to speak with Anakin, even with the Force to help me it was starting to place a strain on my nerves.

I knew Anakin would sense my tiredness, but the more I could hide it, the less he would worry about me. I knew I was pushing myself heavily, running myself ragged with training with the Guardians and continuing to train Anakin, but I could handle it.

To help slightly with that, Simvyl came back to Raven once a week now, training Anakin in unarmed combat and other things so that I could focus on fewer matters when I was here. I was glad for that as while the training with the Guardian was intense, it felt extremely beneficial.

Learning ways to slip the Force around me to gently guide others to either ignore me or consider me less of a threat were tricks that would be extremely useful going forward. Haran, I would've killed to have such skills in my former life. Yes, it would've seen me shift from being a front-line operator to becoming a spook, but what one was capable of with the Force if one looked beyond the narrow ideals of the Jedi was mind-blowingly scary.

As I reached the ramp, I sensed an onrushing presence and looking up I saw the large black mask of my tuk'ata bounding toward me. "Fenrir!" I called out as he rushed me. I ducked and slid to one side, letting him sail through the air before turning to face him. "Down!" I snarled, some of my anger slipping into the Force with the word.

Fenrir stopped and his head dropped slightly, as if understanding he'd angered his pack leader. I sighed at the face he made; somehow even though he was almost as tall as me – and considerably bulkier and stronger – he still managed to pull off the sad puppy face that I'd have thought he would've grown out of by now. "It's okay," I said softly, holding out a hand to gesture him closer. "I'm just tired."

His head perked up at that and he moved closer, pushing one side of his face into my hand. I chuckled at the display and scratched him under his ear. "How have you been, boy?"

He whined softly and leaned into my touch as I once more felt the gentle shifting in the Force whenever I returned to Raven. At first, I'd thought it was simply the force feeling that I was home, yet the longer my training on Anzat had gone on, the greater the sensation had grown, and I was now certain it was the Force slowly letting me know that my time on the planet and training with the Guardians was drawing to a close.

I was a few weeks short of my nineteenth birthday, with the anniversary of the invasion of Naboo a few months further down the line. It was slowly getting to the point where I'd have to stop my various training voyages and begin preparing for what was to come, but I felt I still had time for one more trip, though I was uncertain as to which Force sect or warrior culture to visit next.

An excited ball of energy surged in the Force, and I turned back to the ramp to see Anakin bounding down it. "CAM!" He called out excitedly, and as I knelt– without taking my hand from just under Fenrir's ear – waited for him.

He ran into my arm, and I held him tight as his arms closed around my neck. "An'ika," I said with a smile at the warm reaction to my return. I patted his back as he held me tightly, almost as if scared I might not be real. "I'm here, don't worry."

"I know," He said, his head half-buried in my shoulder, "I'm just happy you're back." He loosened his grasp about half a minute later and pulled back so he could look me in the eyes. "Are you finished here?" He asked the same question he asked every time I returned to Raven to check up on him.

I knew he was doing well as HK and R2 sent regular updates to me, and from the sound of things, Anakin was obeying the training and studying regiment I'd created for him well, or at least HK hadn't suggested a need to discipline Anakin to me, nor had Anakin complained about HK's strictness. At least not since the end of the first month of the schedule.

"No, I still have some time to go," I replied, causing some of his energy to fade away, "but not long. Perhaps a month or so." That had the enthusiasm return slightly. "Now, how have your projects been going?" I asked.

His face lit up as I'd expected and he turned, moving toward Raven, one hand trying to drag me with him. "Great!" He said with the bounce back in his step. "Come on."

I chuckled as I allowed him to drag me up the ramp and into Raven. Fenrir moaned, unhappy at my hand slipping from his fur but followed along in the hope of more attention. As we reached the top of the ramp, I stopped, making Anakin turn to me. "Go and get your pads and I'll meet you in the main hold," I said.

He nodded so fast I feared he'd hurt his neck before bounding away a touch too quickly to be entirely normal. Such frivolous use of the Force wasn't something a Jedi would normally tolerate. However, I was far from being a normal Jedi, and as he was excited, and as it was a sign he was becoming more comfortable with drawing on his power in his everyday life, I saw little harm in allowing such behaviour to continue.

I moved forward, heading toward the central area, knowing he'd have the pads and schematics ready for me by the time I got there. I'd not asked about either project – the one for a starfighter and the one for a droid – in about a month, so it would be interesting to see how far he'd advanced his concepts.

At my side I heard Fenrir grunt, hinting at his amusement at my son's behaviour. It might've been less than two years since Shmi had died and I'd adopted Anakin into Clan Shan, but Anakin now considered me, Fenrir, Raven, and even the droids as family. That was a sentiment I shared wholeheartedly.

"Hey R2," I said as I saw the astromech rolling through a corridor, "been keeping out of trouble?" The droid beeped loudly at my comment, making me laugh. "Yeah, I know there's nowhere to get into trouble here, but I don't think that would stop you or HK if the chance arose." He beeped again and his head rotated around. "I know, I know. You're the responsible one out of the four of you, but that's not a high bar to clear." He whistled in irritation before turning and rolling away, deciding he didn't like the conversation.

I shook my head as I chuckled at his behaviour. I was being truthful in saying that of the four who stayed on Raven, he was the most responsible, but again when the other three were an assassin droid that wanted at times to wipe all meatbags, a creature bred to hunt and kill, and an almost hyperactive young boy with incredible potential at his fingertips, being the responsible one wasn't a hard position to take.

I knew I was not counting Raven in that grouping, but if the chance arose to do some acrobatic if not downright dangerous flying, she would. It was just that with us stuck on Anzat for such a long time, she had no chance to push to do something unwise. Though as my hand ran over her hull, generating a symphony of happy light from her, I knew she would the moment we left the planet.

As I reached the central area, which served as the meal hall, and general relaxation room, I saw Anakin at the central table. A dozen datapads were strewn on the table, though two in particular held places of importance before my son. "I see you're ready," I commented with a wide smile as I walked closer. "HK," I added as I spotted the assassin droid standing nearby, guarding the short corridor that led to the cockpit.

"Greeting: It is good to see you, Master. Query: When might we leave this pitiful excuse for a world, or at the very least, seek out meatbags so that I might test my latest calibrations?"

"We'll be leaving in a month or so," I replied, ignoring the suggestion that he wanted to go on a murder spree. He said that often but had yet to do so; at least without asking me first, which I always shut down. "Simvyl's coming along in his training and I'm not sure there's much else new that I can learn from the Anzati without committing to being here far longer than I'm comfortable with."

Simvyl was doing well in his Initiate grouping, standing third of seven. He wasn't overly happy about his placement, seeing it as a failure on his part, Yet I knew it was impressive. The others were all Anzati who had over a hundred years of experience on him – one was just north of two hundred according to Observe – so for him to be ahead of any of them, even considering he wasn't a raw recruit, was a worthy achievement. Before Naboo, he had been a good warrior, but now as we closed in on two years since then, and with training with the Matukai and Echani to draw upon, he was a far more dangerous fighter for any who stood against him.

My training was now handled alone, as I was too far behind any Apprentice grouping at the Sanctum to join them, but too advanced to remain with the Initiate grouping. The training was tiring, and draining, but I would manage it. I wouldn't allow it to break me. I knew that both Adas and Dooku might likely feel I could do better, or improve further faster, but I was content with my current level of exertion, as going any further might harm my ability to spend these evenings with Anakin.

Anakin struggles to remain still as I approach, and as I slide in beside him, he thrusts a datapad – one of the two directly before him – into my hands. Activating the pad, I let out a low, impressed whistle.

The image before me was of a fighter never seen before in this galaxy. The lineage of the Z-95 in it was clear to see, as were – rather amusingly – hints of the X-Wing. I'd not offered Anakin any hint of that vessel during his time working on this project, but even with just this basic rotating image of a starfighter, I could see how this vessel and the one made famous in the other timeline, came from the same family of design. Just with different minds pushing their creation.

I slid the screen to the next page, taking in the dimensions and specifications of this fighter. Anakin's creation – which I noted he'd not yet named – was about fifteen metres long, twelve wide and four high with the landing gears deployed. The wings of the Z-95 were present, though they started further along the fuselage, not far behind where an astromech slot was located, and tapered to rounded edges in line with the engines. Each wing was in fact a pair of S-foils that opened in combat, just like the X-Wing. The tip of each of those four wings carried a laser cannon. The stats of those, and other weaponry were missing, suggesting Anakin wasn't sure of the exact power output or models of such things. Still, the presence of four cannons like that was amusing.

The image before me shifted, showing me the underside of the craft. Three hardpoints for extra weapons – be they bombs, missiles, or extra cannons – were on the bottom of each wing while in the centre of the fuselage is a section that, according to Anakin's suggestions, could be used for supplies if the fighter has to travel for a long time, or to carry extra munitions. The specifics of what would go on these hard points and into the internal bay would depend on the mission, but I could already imagine various layouts to suit different operations. The flexibility of this wasn't something I'd suggested to Anakin, yet it was a feature I highly approved of.

The fighter had a hyperdrive, which would drive up the cost but was a good idea. Anakin seemed to want a 1.0-rated drive, which would make this fighter extremely quick in reaching its destination. Once there, the four engines would grant it impressive acceleration and atmospheric top speed.

"Anakin," I said slowly, looking at him in awe at what he'd created. "This is incredible." Yes, the design needed refinement – the specifics of the powercore, engines and weapons weren't defined as he didn't have access to some of the data needed to punch in the numbers – but I knew that what he'd created was a solid, if not amazing, base from which to create a fighter to rival anything the galaxy had seen.

"There's more," He said with a large smile. I passed him the pad, expecting him to give me another. Instead, he touched a corner of the one I was holding, and the image of the fighter gave way to some rough specifications.

I blinked as I saw figures that I'd not expected. "How did you get this data?" I asked, knowing some of it wasn't anything I'd granted him access to.

He shrugged. "I used the Holonet to find the files," he said before mumbling something else.

"What?"

"I, um, I used some of your credits to purchase some files and contacted Raith," he explained looking down at the ground. "I needed details for the design, and you weren't here to ask."

I chuckled and reached out to rub his hair. "In future, if I'm not here, so long as you're not breaking any laws, assume it's fine to spend credits for projects such as this," I said. Yes, he had gone behind my back on the matter, but the results of it – the details here suggested how different components from various manufacturers could be added to the inner workings and how many would alter various systems – was an incredible leap beyond what I'd asked of him.

After he nods, I turn back to the datapad, scrolling the list of equipment that could be used for each section. It appeared that Anakin had decided to make the internals as modular as the externals. Different components would need small alterations to fit into the fighter, and each would alter the circuitry slightly, but there was good logic in this approach. "Why did you not settle on a single supplier for each component?"

"I remembered you talking about the danger of placing all our eggs in one basket," Anakin replied with a smile. "some of the parts won't work with others, but I'd programmed the pad to mark out the pieces when that happens."

"Well done." I looked back at the details and grinned. "I asked you to create a starfighter with a focus on superiority, and you went and made something that was much more adaptable."

His smile widened. "I… I was also thinking about how we could use the base design for other ships." He spoke slowly, as if unsure of himself. "I wanted the ship to have every weapon possible, but doing that caused big problems."

"That's one way to put it," I said with a grin.

"Yeah. So, I was thinking of this." He tapped the pad again and this time it displayed four new fighters. Each was similar to the first one but altered in ways – some subtle, some less so – that made certain each was unique while having a common foundation. The details of each ship weren't present, but each had a title hinting at their various roles.

"Anakin," I said slowly as I understood the concepts he was going for here. "This is amazing."

Using a base airframe to build variants built for specific things – bomber, rapid recon or deep-strike, interceptor, and missile-boat were the four names Anakin had given to the new designs – was a smart way to standardise production, and in theory, keep down costs. Now, the variants were missing the level of detail that the main fighter design had, but I could see ways that many of the components suggested for the starfighter could be used in the variants.

"There's more," Anakin said, changing the display on the pad to show two more fighters. Again, there were clean lines that suggested the commonality of them, yet these two were significantly different. The first was larger by about fifty per cent and had a cockpit designed for two pilots and a built-in astromech droid. It looked slower but had more armament – potentially enough to take out cruisers and other mid-sized starships – and the more I stared at it, the more it reminded me of the ARC-130 the GAR would use in the Clone Wars.

The second variant was more akin to a scout craft. It was large again but seemed to be designed for outright speed. Yet with the larger central hold, it would be able to deploy its cargo and depart before most others were aware of its presence.

These designs were not things I'd seen on my previous trips as I'd spent the majority of the time training him with his lightsaber forms and usage of the Force. Yet it seemed he'd been far from idle in my absence.

Some of the concepts he had created bore similarities to fighters, bombers, and interceptors I'd seen on the galactic market, but the specifics of such vessels were hard to be certain of. Yes, their creators listed their capabilities, but I couldn't be sure they weren't overselling their creations. Nor did I know what other advanced projects and designs they had in the pipeline. The Banite Sith would be working with various companies to develop and build the ships and equipment for the GAR so that when war came, the Republic could fight back and, as the war dragged on, the Jedi could be dragged around and taken out slowly until the Banite Sith were ready to strike and end the Republic and Jedi in a single day or so.

"Are you planning for a war?" I asked him after looking over the variants. While alone a fleet of starfighters to his designs wouldn't be enough to win a war, in theory, they'd be more than capable of turning the tide of just about any battle.

"No," Anakin replied with a giggle. "But you've made clear you think there's one coming inside our lifetimes," I grunted, remembering I had hinted in his presence about the coming Clone Wars, unaware that he'd taken that knowledge in and that I had influenced his thoughts and intentions. "Even if there's not if we can make a fleet of these, then Lia and the Lokella can be safe from future attacks."

"Ah," I said softly, understanding now coming to me. While he was concerned about the war I felt was coming, his focus was on protecting his family. He knew I, along with Fenrir, Simvyl, and the droids could look after ourselves, but that his younger half-sister currently couldn't. Given she had little potential for the Force, she'd never become what Anakin could, but I felt with the right – read Mando'ade – training, she could be as dangerous as someone like Bo or Naz.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to do everything you can to protect those you love, An'ika. But even if we do that, no matter what we do, even if we burn entire worlds in an attempt to save our loved ones, we have to accept that death is a natural part of the universe. Even the stars die. It is a law of the universe that cannot be overcome."

He looked up at me in shock, his eyes wide. "St…stars can die?" He asked, having seemingly considered it as possible.

"Yes, Anakin they do. That is how Black holes, and other such phenomena occur." I reach over and place a hand on his shoulder as I sense the cold, almost mind-numbing fear radiating from him and push the warmth of my presence to him through the Force. "I know it scares you. It scares me as well when I consider that one day you, Bo, Fenrir, and others might die. However, dwelling on that fear, letting it consume you in some false hope that you can alter things so no one you care for dies is a dark and dangerous path to walk down. One that, if you do so, will see you consumed by the Dark Side and become nothing but a puppet of whatever twisted desires it demands of you."

"I know," he whispered though I felt he didn't yet understand, "it's just…" his head dropped, and he looked down at his feet, kicking them aimlessly against each other. "I miss her, and I don't want to lose you."

I reached forward and pulled him into a hug. His arms closed eagerly around my waist as I held him tight. "I understand, Anakin," I said gently. "I miss my grandfather and don't want to lose you either. That's why all this training is needed."

I held him for a while, letting him draw strength from me and allowing him to gather his thoughts and calm his raging emotions. He might not have the issue I did with the Interface, and through it, Eidetic Memory making it impossible for me to let go of my emotions and fears, but I knew he dwelled on such thoughts heavily. So much so that, in the other timeline, Sidious had exploited that and his fears over his wife, to corrupt him into Darth Vader.

After what felt like a few minutes, I felt Anakin shift and let him slip from my grasp. His face was long, and while there were no tears, I could sense his unease. I smiled in understanding and moved my hands toward the datapad he'd given me. "I'm proud of you and your creations, An'ika," I said softly, drawing his thoughts away from his mother and his fears for the future, "in the time we've known each other, you've gotten stronger and stronger. Don't ever think otherwise, nor that I don't want you trying to protect those you love. You just need to learn that we cannot protect everyone all the time."

His eyes came up, and a faint smirk came to his lips. "Not even you?"

"Yes Anakin, even me," I said as I ruffled his hair. "I know I have, shall we say, a talent for getting into trouble," he giggled at that, "but when I do I need you to stop and think before you act. It might seem to draw trouble to me, but I have never failed to escape that trouble with my own skill and power. I'd rather find my way out of that trouble than have to worry about you running in to help, acting like a bantha in a crystal shop."

Anakin laughed happily at the analogy. "Says the man who jumps from starships to help those he cares for." My brow rose at him throwing that back at me. I'd never talked to him about my rush to help Serra after her verd'goten or to reach Bo and Naz during the Battle of Keldabe, but it seemed he was aware of at least one of them. "Bo and Naz told me about your adventures."

"Ah," I muttered in understanding. "Still, I do hope that you learn from my mistakes – and such reckless action, even if it worked out was reckless – and make your own choices." With hindsight, I can see how I could've approached those moments better, and still achieved my goals, but I knew well what the saying about hindsight was.

"I'll try."

I shook my head as I laughed at his non-committal answer and ruffled his hair once more. In moments like this, I felt sympathy for Obi-Wan when he'd had to raise and train Anakin in the other timeline. The issue was that I knew I was, at times, a bad role model. Just like Anakin, I was the sort of person to rush headlong into the fire to save those I cared about, and while that had worked out for me for the most part – the loss of my forearm notwithstanding – I knew I had to temper my instincts. If not for my sake, then for Anakin's and the others I cared for.

He was only eleven, but already my thoughts were starting to drift to two years in the future. At that point, he would be old enough for his verd'goten, and I couldn't deny a hint of fear at what that might entail. I knew I'd trained him well, and that he could look after himself, but I feared that he would – like myself before him – face a challenge for which he wasn't entirely ready. The hardest part was going to be not doing what I wanted and rushing to help, as that would see him fail the challenge, and possibly hate me for doing so.

"So," I said slowly, pushing thoughts of Anakin's future aside, "the base fighter, do you feel ready to consider making a prototype?" If he was, then I'd have to contact either Raith or Alor Dred Yomaget – more likely the latter – and see if they or someone they knew could help with the creation of a prototype. The sooner it was made, and the kinks worked out, the sooner production could begin, giving at least the Lokella access to his creations.

Anakin's eyes widened, and I sensed his surprise at me suggesting he move forward with the project. "I… um… I mean, maybe. In a few months. I guess." He paused and rubbed the back of his head. "It's just… the parts I want to use, they're not cheap."

"How much?" I asked, not caring greatly about the cost, as beyond my wealth, I had access to the Jedi's funds. The idea of having them pay for the creation of a fighter that would, in all likelihood, be used against them, was amusing enough that I could see myself doing that.

"At least a million credits I guess. Both the parts and paying someone to build and test it for us."

"For you, An'ika," I countered, "this is your project, not mine." I saw his mouth open, probably to argue, and I held my hand up to stop him. "The idea of you creating a starfighter was one I gave you," I said slowly, wanting to explain my logic. "I did so because you have a talent for technology that I don't, which I'm fine with by the way. I wanted this project, and the one for a droid, to push your skills. I never intended for you to take it so far, so my influence over this project is over. All I will do is back you, however much it takes, with the credits to build the prototype. Whatever becomes of it, from the name to how far this goes, is up to you, and you will have my full, unqualified support for whatever you decide."

It took a few moments for Anakin to accept my words, but when he had, he looked at me with a wide smile. "Okay." There was a long moment where he seemed to revel with pride at having control of the starfighter project before he blinked. "Oh, the droid…"

He turned and all but snatched the datapad with the details of the starfighter on it from my hand, before replacing it was the other pad that had a place of prominence of the dozen or so that were on the table around us. Normally I would warn him about such behaviour, but it was clear he was doing it at this moment because he was excited, and not as might normally be the case, angry or upset.

As I turned to the new datapad I was curious as to what he'd done with the droid project. If the starfighter designs were anything to go by, this should be an interesting one. Especially with HK and R2 offering more opinions for this than for the starfighter.

At first glance, the droid didn't appear too different from a well-modified 3P0-series protocol droid, but as I looked closer, and read some of the information on the first display, I whistled. "I know I just said it about the starfighter, but this is impressive, An'ika. I see you took in many of HK's ideas," I added as details of the hidden extras on the droid appeared on-screen.

The stomach no longer exposed internal wiring, and the odd brackets on the joints that seemed to limit the movement of such droids were gone. The entire thing was encased in metal with no obvious spots where it could be opened. A note on the page suggested using either beskar or phrik in the plating and I was not inclined to the former. Beskar was too rare to use on a droid, and the Mando'ade would never stand for such apparently frivolous use of the metal.

Elsewhere the deactivation switch on the back of the neck didn't shut down the droid. Anakin wanted an option in the programming so that the droid could either fake being shut down or ignore the button entirely, and I knew that had come from HK. The same was true of the various hidden extras that the droid had.

"Yeah," Anakin said with a broad smile, though a second later it slipped. "Um, this won't be cheap either," He added, which made me laugh.

"I believe I just told you that cost wasn't a problem with the starfighter. Why would that be different for the droid?" His face lit up again at that. "So, show me," I add.

Before arriving on Anzat, my publisher had contacted me. Fellowship of the Ring was doing far better than he and the production company had expected. At that time, I'd gained nearly forty billion credits from the holomovie, and by the end of the year, he suspected the figure would clear a hundred billion, if not close in on two hundred billion credits. That figure didn't include anything from the merchandising, but the projections there were impressive as well and I could be looking at double to tripling the movie figures.

Yet, for all my new-found wealth, I suspected I was still far from being even the richest Mando'ade, to say nothing of the wider galaxy. Still, using those credits for Anakin's projects was a better thing than simply letting them sit in various accounts gathering dust. I just hoped that whatever Anakin had added wasn't overly complicated as, based on my experience in this life and the last, things worked best if they were kept relatively simple.

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I leaned back in the worn and tattered chair I found myself in this evening. I tapped the table in front of me, seemingly thinking about the cards I'd drawn in this round of sabacc, but in reality, my thoughts were elsewhere.

I was no longer on Anzat, the training had gone as far as I thought it could go without me committing time I knew I didn't have. Simvyl had, before we'd left, attempted a similar exercise to the one I had. While he hadn't succeeded as well as I had – as was expected of most Initiates – he had done decently and understood his mistakes. Indeed, he'd managed to slip from the compound without being detected, which was the minimum the Guardians had expected.

That had helped guide my decision to leave, and after saying our farewells, with a loose promise to return if the Force allowed, we'd departed the system. After speaking with Anakin about a new extra he wanted to add to his droid – something akin to a chameleon cloak that would allow it to project the appearance of being organic over its frame – I'd had to hunt for where to find such things, and then locate a seller. That hunt had brought me to my current locale; a bar in one of the less reputable sections of Worlport; the capital city of Ord Mantell.

To any who approached the world, they'd see a beautiful and modern world, a symbol of the Republic's influence in the Mid Rim. But that influence ran below the surface as Ord Mantell was just as superficial as Coruscant or any Core World. Step away from the brilliant Corellian-inspired architecture in the Government District, and one quickly finds corruption, decay, and decadence. All signs of the failings that Republic was known for to any who knew to look away from the blinding light of the glittering central buildings.

The contact that I needed to meet had insisted on gathering on Ord Mantell, and I'd already spoken with them about what I needed. They claimed they could get the various components I'd need for Anakin's droid, but it would take time as while not illegal some of the parts were restricted. They'd said it would take half a month to gather them at most, and after five days on Ord Mantell, I was regretting agreeing to wait here for them to get what I was purchasing.

The first few days had passed easily enough. Anakin, Simvyl, and I had explored Worlport; first as Jedi and then as travelling Mandalorians. The reason the switch had taken place was because I kept getting invited to the planetary governor's mansion, as apparently there was some issue they wanted my help with. Sensing that whatever the issue was, I'd not enjoy it, I'd rejected the offer and then seemingly left the planet in Raven.

We'd returned a day later, taking over a more remote landing port; one where the planetary security was much laxer and more open-minded. The guards there had been persuaded with a handful of credits to mis-register Raven as another vessel but to avoid being bothered by the governor's people, Anakin and I had started travelling as Mandos.

Simvyl had used the time on the planet to contact a few fellow Antarian Rangers, getting updates on issues throughout this slice of the galaxy's Mid and Outer Rim. Looking them over, there was no apparent pattern to the grievances and skirmishes between various worlds and groups, but knowing what I did of what was to come, it didn't take much to convince Simvyl that all of it was interconnected to the failings of the Republic.

With little to do but kill time, I'd ended up wandering the three gambling districts in Worlport. Not because I had any real interest in gambling, but more to see how those not sitting around the top table lived. The first district, Path of Coins, was aimed at the high rollers; those unconcerned about losing a few million credits here and there. I'd spent some time there gambling and testing out my social skills, but I'd grown tired of the place.

Port of Coins was meant to represent the best of Ord Mantell, yet even though the common terms weren't used, slavery, drug dealing, and other illegal activities took place there. What made it worse was the fact the local law enforcement made no effort to deal with the problem. I knew the reasons – corruption and the like – but it still angered me that they would allow something as illegal as slavery to exist so openly simply by changing the name and, I suspected, forcing the workers to sign contracts that while seemingly making things seem legal, were little better than indentured servitude.

After a few more days of exploring, I'd ended up in Herglic's Folly, travelling from one establishment to the next. This district lacked all but the most token of security forces, but even though this place was dirty, worn-down, and dangerous – three sentients had made the mistake of trying to rob me on the first night in the district – I found it more real. Yes, there was slavery, drug-dealing and illegal trades taking place here, and those I was sharing the sabacc table with all had bounties worth at least twenty-thousand credits on their head, but they were open and honest about their rule-breaking.

Oh, if I wanted to, I'd happily gun everyone at the table down, along with the majority of the casino I found myself in. They were scum of the lowest kind, but at least they were truthful about what they were and that, at least for the time being, was enough for me to grant them leniency. Well, that and the facts I had to kill time on the planet, that playing with such reprobates was a clever way to practice my social skills, and between the Force and Observe I never left a table with fewer credits than I sat down with.

"I see your bet and raise you." That came from a Zabrak named Farld. This sentient, and I used the time loosely, was a trafficker in people, and had bounties from various sectors, the highest of which was thirty-five thousand credits from Taris. "Five thousand," he said as he slid a pile of credits into the centre of the table.

I watched him with amusement, already aware that my hand beat his. It might've been cheating to use the Force and Observe in such ways but as everyone I was playing with was scum of the lowest sort, I didn't care. Force, if they caught me cheating, then it just gave me a reason to gun them all down here and now.

"I see and raise," I replied, pushing seven thousand credits into the pot. It was a small increase, but should tempt him into meeting and raising it, which was what I…

"Cameron!" The shouting of my name when I'd not given it to anyone had my attention. If I'd been wearing my helmet, the HUD could've told me who called out, but I wasn't wearing it as faces had to be exposed at the table. "Cameron Shan!"

Hearing my full name, I knew the male – the voice made that clear – knew who I was, and as I turned, my hand grasping my blaster, I felt a familiar if off sensation in the Force. "Quinlan?" I muttered in confusion when I saw my fellow Jedi Knight coming toward me, dressed nothing like a Jedi should be attired, though since I wasn't in Jedi garb either, I couldn't hold that against him.

As he moves closer I notice a Devaronian enter behind him, one that looks remarkably like a devil, however, my focus is on Quinlan. Beyond the dishevelled look, his Force presence is off, if not wrong. As if part of him was missing or gone. "What's wrong?" I ask as I remove my hand from my blaster, sensing the Force swirling erratically around the Kiffar.

"It's Aayla! She's missing!"

I blinked at hearing that. "What? How?" I demanded, trying to figure out how he could lose his Padawan, why she was missing, and why he was coming to me. I could see him begin to explain only for me to remember the game. "I fold," I said, tossing my cards into the pile and then picking up my helmet. "Now," I said as I moved closer and placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him, "tell me what happened. From the beginning."

He nodded, and as he gathered his thoughts I felt the Force shifting. There was something about this moment, and about Aayla's disappearance, that it seemed to be suggesting might be of use to me. I just had to figure out what was going on, help Quinlan find Aayla, and then determine how it might affect me.

… …

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A/N: And with Quinlan's appearance, the training run is over. If you know your Dark Horse comics, you can guess which arc from that I'm about to adapt.

A/N (2): LuciferBael's story is here Of Lightning and Blood
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This story is cross-posted on Fanfiction.net, Archive of our Own, and Royal Road.
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May the Force be with you. Always​