The night on Coruscant was a false stillness. In Senator Amidala's apartment, Anakin Skywalker meditated by her bedroom door, a tense guardian whose own inner turmoil was a storm.
Kaelen didn't meditate. Meditation was for those seeking calm. He thrived in the analysis of chaos. He was in his improvised command center in the apartment's study, surrounded by holographic screens displaying the building's sensor net, local energy readings, and encrypted city communications. He didn't trust the Force to warn him of danger; he trusted the data.
And the data screamed.
A minimal energy spike at the bedroom window. A heat signature that didn't match Coruscant fauna. The air pressure outside the glass shifted.
"ANAKIN!" Kaelen's voice cracked like a whip over the intercom, an instant before Anakin himself sensed the disturbance. "Intrusion, bedroom window! Multiple small lifeforms!"
Anakin was already in motion, his lightsaber snapping to life to illuminate two venomous kouhuns scuttling across the floor towards Padmé's bed. The scene unfolded in a blur: the hiss of the lightsaber, the creatures' shrieks as they were cut in two, and Padmé jolting awake.
Just as Anakin dispatched the bugs, Kaelen saw the probe droid that had delivered them retreating from the window. "Delivery boy's escaping!" he yelled.
What followed was a brand of Jedi madness. Anakin, in an act of pure audacity, leaped out the shattered window onto the droid. Obi-Wan, arriving just then, sighed with the resignation of a tired parent and jumped after him, landing on Anakin's speeder. The chase was on.
Kaelen didn't follow. His battlefield was information.
"I'm with you, gentlemen," he said through his comm, his fingers flying over a console. "Trying to keep you alive."
What he did next was an act of cognitive juggling that would have fried the brains of a hundred lesser beings. As Obi-Wan and Anakin careened through Coruscant's traffic, Kaelen:
Hacked Coruscant's air traffic control system. Lane lights that should have been red turned green for them. Cargo speeders were diverted to create blockades for their target. He was painting a safe path for the Jedi through a hellscape of traffic. Accessed the city-wide surveillance network. He linked thousands of cameras, overlaying feeds to create a real-time view of the chase, predicting the assassin, Zam Wesell's, turns before she made them. "Left turn at CoCo Sector! She's going to try to lose you in the Uscru tunnels!" Performed a biometric analysis. He isolated a frame of the assassin's face, ran it through every bounty hunter database in the galaxy, and got a positive ID in under a minute. "Target is Zam Wesell. Clawdite. Shapeshifter. Be careful." Analyzed probe droid data. While everything else was happening, he directed a micro-drone from the apartment to analyze the remnants of the droid Anakin had damaged. "The droid's an outdated model, but the kouhun poison is military grade. This isn't just a bounty hunter; she's very well-funded."
His mind was a forge, processing terabytes of information, performing thousands of calculations per second, operating at a level bordering on superhuman. The pressure was immense, a cognitive supernova. And the System, his mysterious benefactor, took notice.
MENTAL PERFORMANCE IN EXTREME COMBAT CONDITIONS EXCEEDED ALL THRESHOLDS SIMULTANEOUS MANAGEMENT OF MULTIPLE COMPLEX SYSTEMS ACHIEVED MAJOR SYNCHRONIZATION LEAP AUTHORIZED SYNCHRONIZATION INCREASED: +10% TOTAL SYNCHRONIZATION LEVEL: 27% NEW ADVANCED ABILITIES UNLOCKED: - Biogenetics (Basic Level) - Advanced Weaponry Design (Intermediate Level)
A fresh wave of knowledge washed over Kaelen. Suddenly, he understood the structure of Clawdite DNA, the possibilities of cloning, the physics behind a disruptive plasma rifle, the blueprints for a personal ion cannon... Dangerous, brilliant ideas blossomed in his mind.
He heard over the comms as the Jedi cornered Zam Wesell in the Outlander Club. He heard her confession that it was just a job. And he heard her choked cry as a small dart silenced her forever.
"She was killed before she could talk!" Anakin exclaimed.
"It was a toxic dart from Kamino," Obi-Wan said.
"Correct," Kaelen interjected, his voice now strangely calm from the post-upgrade clarity. "A Kamino Fletchet, to be precise. I've already initiated a search in the Jedi archives. Kamino was erased from the navigational charts. Interesting."
The decision was swift. Padmé was no longer safe on Coruscant. She had to leave, hide on Naboo. Anakin would escort her.
"Absolutely not," Kaelen said when Obi-Wan relayed the decision. It wasn't a question. It was a statement.
"Director Ror, this is a Jedi mission," Obi-Wan said patiently. "A civilian would be a liability."
Kaelen scoffed, a sound devoid of humor. "Master Kenobi, I just guided your two best Jedi through a chase that would have killed them six times over without my help. I just identified the assassin and the murder weapon while you were leaping between buildings. With all due respect, you're the brawn. I'm the brain."
He walked over to Padmé, whose expression was a mix of concern and determination. "I am her husband and her primary security advisor. My presence is non-negotiable." Then he looked at Anakin, whose face was a storm of conflicting emotions. "Besides, my tech will be more useful in protecting her than a Padawan with known impulse control issues."
The insult hit its mark. Anakin stepped forward, but Obi-Wan's hand on his shoulder stopped him. The Jedi Master sighed. He knew Kaelen was right.
"Prepare your gear, Director," Obi-Wan said. "You depart at dawn."
Heading for the Lake Retreat
Packing. How domestic for such a screwed-up situation. I'm heading to a lake retreat with my wife and her teenage bodyguard/stalker.
The 27% is... intense. It's like the universe has slowed down, and I can see the seams of everything. In my head, I'm not just packing clothes. I'm designing a new type of personal shield that can deflect blaster energy. I'm thinking about the genetic implications of cloning and how an army could be created in a decade. I'm thinking about twenty different ways to build a rifle that can shoot through three durasteel walls.
This new 10% is going to be... fun.
I look at Anakin, who's across the room, pretending to check Padmé's gear. He glares back with resentment. He thinks I'm in his way. He doesn't understand that I'm the only reason he hasn't drowned in his own emotional dramas yet.
Padmé, my anchor, looks at both of us with apprehension. She knows this trip will be a test.
Yes, it will definitely be a test. And I'm the one who came with the test answers.