As I stood before Bo-Katan, the weight of her words settled over me like a physical force. Kill Pre Vizsla. Take the Darksaber. Lead Clan Vizsla.
I'd known confronting Pre might be necessary, but this made it a certainty. And there were problems with that certainty, significant ones.
The main problem was me.
I doubted Death Watch, at least all of them, would follow a random half-Sephi Jedi Padawan just because I held the Darksaber. Yes, in the Clone Wars timeline, many Death Watch members were loyal to the creed of following the strongest, the wielder of the Darksaber. That's how Maul had taken over. But that was years from now, and these warriors had been shaped by different leaders, different ideologies.
The other problem was more immediate: I didn't know if I could beat Pre Vizsla in a fight. Not right now.
I wasn't doubting my skills exactly, but this wasn't some slaver or random pirate or gang member. This was a trained veteran Mandalorian warrior who had seen more combat than I'd been alive. I'd be stupid to think I could beat him just because I could use the Force and fight with a lightsaber.
Overconfidence is a weakness, Master Fay had told me countless times. And in combat, weakness kills.
Then I noticed Bo-Katan's posture shift. Behind her, the Death Watch members began to gather, moving closer to the firelight. Their weapons were lowered now, no longer pointed at us. They stood in silence, watching me with expressions I couldn't quite read through their helmets.
Bo-Katan's voice cut through the quiet, carrying across the assembled warriors.
"Some here remember your mother, Selene, and what she stood for." Her tone was measured, but there was emotion beneath it, grief, respect, something that might have been hope. "She was a great warrior, mentor, and protector to many of us here. That means something. Not just because of blood, but because of her teachings and the legacy she left behind."
She paused, letting her words sink in.
"If you are her child, then you are also part of that legacy. I will teach you our ways and stand by you."
Anakin and Seris continued to watch in silence, their presences in the Force steady and supportive.
Bo-Katan continued, her green eyes fixed on mine. "I will see that Pre Vizsla pays for his treachery, but not today. Right now, we will look into these Mandalorian mercenaries and Jango Fett. We will find this clone army and stop its growth. For the honor and glory of Mandalore."
She stepped forward, closing the distance between us until we were only a few feet apart.
"But if you want my help unconditionally and to follow your lead, you will have to fight and beat me. It is our way, and Selene would expect nothing less. So let us see what you are made of."
Seris raised a brow, her silver hair catching the firelight. "Is she serious?"
Anakin smirked, though I could feel the concern beneath his casual tone. "When is a Mandalorian not serious? Plus, we knew this was probably going to have to happen."
I looked at Bo-Katan intently, studying her stance, her expression. She was completely serious. This wasn't a test I could talk my way out of.
"Are there any rules?" I asked.
Bo-Katan's stare grew harder, more focused. "No rules. Just use everything you have to fight, and so will I."
I nodded, then reached into my pocket and pulled out the black Krayt dragon pearl necklace and the Taung Iron ingot. I held them up so she could see them in the firelight.
"I will take those back when I win."
Bo-Katan's expression didn't change, but I saw something flicker in her eyes, approval, maybe, or respect for the confidence. She nodded once, then pulled her helmet back on. The visor glowed faintly orange from the reflection of the fire as she handed the items to a warrior behind her.
Meanwhile, at the edge of the gathering, one Death Watch member quietly activated a secure comm channel, fingers moving across a wrist-mounted interface. The transmission was brief, encrypted, sent to coordinates far from Concordia.
Pre Vizsla will want to know about this, the warrior thought. The boy who claims to be Selene's son.
The murmurs among Death Watch grew louder, a sea of beskar whispers echoing through the Concordia canyon. Helmets turned, visors glinting in the firelight as more warriors formed a wide circle around us. The air crackled with tension, thick with the scent of burning slag and iron dust.
Bo-Katan stepped into the center of the circle, her armor gleaming in the orange light. "You want to prove yourself worthy of being a Mandalorian?" she said, her voice carrying through the night like a vibroblade's edge. "Then prove it the only way we respect—the same way Selene did, by showing the strength of your convictions."
I squared my shoulders, my heart hammering but my mind forcing itself to steady. "If that's what it takes."
Bo-Katan's helmet visor glowed faint orange from the fire's reflection. She reached to her sides and drew her twin vibroblades with a snarl of metal on metal. Sparks hissed as the edges activated, the blades humming with lethal energy.
A ripple of anticipation ran through the gathered crowd. Anakin and Seris tensed, their hands instinctively moving toward their lightsabers, but I raised a hand to stop them.
"This is mine," I said quietly.
Bo-Katan's voice cut through the silence like a blade. "Three times your mother beat me in combat. Three times she showed me what it meant to be a True Mandalorian. Tonight, I'll show you those same lessons. Let's see if her blood runs true in you."
I drew my lightsaber, the hilt familiar and reassuring in my grip. I ignited it with a snap-hiss that echoed across the canyon. The golden-yellow blade with its shadowy hue came to life, casting dancing light across the assembled warriors.
The crowd roared.
The first clash came like thunder.
Bo-Katan lunged forward with explosive speed, her twin blades a storm of silver arcs. I brought my lightsaber up in a defensive guard, the golden blade screaming as it met vibrating metal. The impact rattled through my arms, the force of it stronger than I'd expected.
She's fast. Really fast.
The second strike came before I'd fully recovered from the first, numbing my fingers with the impact. The third I managed to deflect, angling my blade to redirect the force rather than absorb it directly.
But then her knee slammed forward into my ribs, as pain exploded through my chest. Air tore from my lungs as I stumbled backward, gasping, my vision blurring for a moment.
Before I could recover, she switched tactics seamlessly. Her vibroblades disappeared into their sheaths, and her blaster pistols were in her hands in the span of a heartbeat. A flurry of blaster bolts screamed toward me, the red energy bolts painting streaks across my vision.
I dodged and parried, my lightsaber moving in the defensive patterns Master Fay had drilled into me. The bolts deflected harmlessly into the dirt and stone, but Bo-Katan kept up the constant suppressive fire, moving closer and closer with each shot.
She's not giving me time to think. Not giving me space to breathe.
Right as she closed to within a few feet, she switched back to her blades in a transition so flawless it looked choreographed. The vibroblades were in her hands and swinging before I'd even registered the change.
She pressed in, blades whirling like a hurricane. Every swing carried brutal precision, slashes that would have cut me in half if I were slower. I parried desperately, my lightsaber moving in tight defensive arcs, but I was being driven backward step by step.
One blade hooked around mine, twisted my hilt with leverage I couldn't counter, and the second blade slammed across my jaw like a durasteel pipe.
My head snapped sideways. Lights burst across my vision as I staggered, tasting copper. I hit the dirt hard, rolling instinctively to avoid a follow-up strike.
Was she always this strong, or am I really this weak?
I'd never had this much trouble fighting Anakin or the others. Not even being outnumbered by pirates ten to one had felt this overwhelming.
Bo-Katan stepped back, her blades at her sides, giving me a moment to recover. "Lesson one," she barked, her voice carrying across the circle. "Selene taught me that you must always find new ways of fighting, or else you will be at a disadvantage. Especially when you face an opponent who fights in ways you're not used to. You will be overwhelmed and die quicker."
She gestured with one blade toward me.
"She always made me pay for not being versatile. Just like you are right now."
I spat blood into the dirt, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and forced myself upright. My golden eyes burned brighter, fueled by frustration and determination.
She's right. I've been fighting the same way I always do. That's the problem, I'm to predictable, to limited.
Around us, the Death Watch warriors watched in silence. Some leaned forward, interested. Others crossed their arms, clearly expecting me to fail.
I surged forward with a Force-augmented dash, my blade flashing in sweeping arcs designed to overwhelm her defense. But Bo-Katan didn't retreat. She met me head-on, her stance shifting, her blades crossing to form an iron wall.
Every strike I threw, she parried or blocked with minimal movement. She was economical, efficient, wasting no energy on unnecessary flourishes.
I tried to spin, to strike low at her thigh and break her stance. She pivoted smoothly, caught my blade on her guard, and slammed her gauntleted fist into my chest.
The impact lifted me off my feet. I flew backward, my boots scraping across stone as I hit the cliff wall behind me. Pain flared down my side, sharp and immediate.
Before I could rise, a boot pressed hard against my throat, pinning me to the rock. Her vibroblade rested just under my eye, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from the activated edge.
"Lesson two," Bo-Katan said coldly, her voice distorted slightly by the helmet's vocoder. "Selene taught me to never let your opponent control the rhythm of the fight. Whether on the ground or in the air, she owned the battle and dictated its terms."
She pressed down slightly harder, making it difficult to breathe.
"You? You're too confident in some moments and not confident enough when it counts. That's why you're losing. You need to dictate the terms of the battle, not react to mine."
I coughed, my fingers clutching at her boot. Anger rose like fire in my gut, hot and immediate, but I forced it down. Forced it into focus instead of letting it consume me.
I shoved with the Force, channeling energy through my hands. The invisible wave blasted her back just far enough for me to scramble to my knees, gasping for air.
The Death Watch warriors jeered and shouted, most of them clearly supporting Bo-Katan. Only a few stayed quiet, watching closely with what might have been curiosity or concern.
Anakin leaned forward from where he stood at the edge of the circle, his voice carrying just loud enough for me to hear. "Come on, Cain... don't let her break you."
Bo-Katan rolled her shoulders, her blades spinning in a casual display of control. "Get up, boy. I'm not done teaching you your mother's lessons."
The third clash was worse.
I tried to vary my strikes, mixing high slashes with low thrusts, attempting to be unpredictable. But Bo-Katan adapted almost instantly, reading my movements like I was telegraphing every attack.
She's making me look like a novice.
Every motion of hers was cleaner, tighter, a predator dissecting prey with surgical precision. She cut through my guard, slammed her elbow into my temple, then grabbed my arm, kicked my knee, and spun me across the dirt.
The crowd roared as I rolled, barely managing to recover my footing. My lightsaber had been knocked from my grip, the golden blade extinguishing as the hilt clattered away into the darkness.
Bo-Katan didn't stop. She launched her grappling line, the fibercord wrapping around my wrist with a sharp snap. With one savage pull, she yanked me off balance. I stumbled forward, unable to resist the momentum.
Before I could recover, her vibroblade pressed across my throat again. My chest heaved, sweat dripping down my face, my lungs burning with exertion.
"Lesson three," Bo-Katan said, her visor an unyielding mask reflecting the firelight. "Selene taught me to never fight like a warrior alone. Fight like you carry your clan. Your people. Every strike, every step, it was never for herself."
She paused, and I could feel her gaze boring into me even through the helmet.
"You? You're still fighting only for you. Your words speak of purpose, but your attacks lack conviction."
Those words cut deeper than her blades ever could.
For a moment, doubt crept in, cold and insidious, wrapping around my thoughts like chains.
She's right.
I talked about saving the galaxy, about protecting people, about stopping the darkness that was coming. But why? What was my real motivation?
The answer came unbidden, honest and ugly: Self-preservation.
I knew how terrible this galaxy was going to become. I knew about the Clone Wars, Order 66, the Empire, the suffering that would consume trillions of lives. And everything else that comes after, and with my expected life span. I didn't want to deal with that. I didn't want to live through it.
So I'd acted like something I wasn't, a hero.
I'm not the Chosen One. I'm not a descendant of some legendary bloodline, well I wouldn't call Vizsla bloodline not notable, just that he was basically carrying it by himself and his legacy is his name and darksaber. But I'm just a kid who knows the history of this universe and happens to have a high midi-chlorian count. I was fooling myself, trying to be like Anakin or Luke. I was just a nobody before coming here, and now I'm a pretender and A wannabe.
The weight of that realization pressed down on me, crushing and suffocating. Maybe I should just give up. Maybe I'm not strong enough for this.
But then, something else stirred, like a light beginning to ignite deep within my being.
I thought of Anakin, once a slave whose future had been set in stone. He was now standing beside me, looking at me like a brother, with limitless futures awaiting him because I'd helped change his path.
I thought of Seris, who had first doubted me and fought against me. Now she trusted me and would follow me through any challenge, her loyalty unwavering.
Derren, always the ever-loyal and trusting friend. He'd always have my back no matter what. He never tried to flaunt his genius or take anything too seriously, but when it came to his friends, he gave nothing less than everything.
Barriss, always kind and supportive, trying her best while still taking the time to look out for me even when she was struggling with her own doubts.
Master Plo, Master Fay, always believing in me and giving me the space to grow and find myself.
Even Mother Talzin, who looked out for me in her own way. I think I felt so comfortable with her because she reminded me of my mother from my past life, seeming so distant but always helping me out even when I didn't directly ask for help.
And my mother... Selene. A ghost I had never known, but a guiding light that had helped shape me all the same.
I wasn't fighting alone. I was never fighting alone.
I wasn't fighting just for myself. I was fighting for them. For their futures. For the chance to give them something better than what fate had originally planned.
The realization hit me like a wave of clarity, washing away the doubt and self-recrimination.
I reached out with the Force, my hand open. The energy surged through me, responding to my will with newfound purpose. My lightsaber snapped from the dirt into my palm with a crackling hum as I reignited it.
The golden-yellow blade blazed to life, brighter than before. I rose again, but this time my stance was different. I was rooted, grounded, centered. I remembered why I was growing stronger and who I was truly fighting for.
My golden eyes narrowed on Bo-Katan, and they glowed faintly in the night, like a fire burning behind them, steady and unyielding.
Bo-Katan tilted her head slightly, and I heard something that might have been approval in her voice. "Hmph. Maybe you do carry her blood after all."
The fourth clash erupted like wildfire.
I advanced, my blade low and steady, my strikes more focused and precise than before. I reached deep into the Force, activating my shatterpoint sight. The world shifted, revealing the fractures and weaknesses in everything around me, including Bo-Katan's movements.
I could see her strikes moments before she made them, the telltale shifts in her stance and weight distribution that telegraphed her intentions.
Bo-Katan countered, her blades moving in complex patterns designed to overwhelm. She went for a high slash, I parried and dropped low. She spun, her knee aimed for my ribs, I rolled with the momentum, redirected the force, and slammed my saber up into her guard.
The crackling hum of plasma clashed against vibrating steel, locking us in a deadly embrace. Sparks flew where our weapons met, casting flickering shadows across our faces. She pushed harder, expecting me to give ground like I had before.
Instead, I rooted myself, my stance solid and immovable. I channeled the Force through my body, augmenting my strength to match hers.
Her eyes widened behind the visor, I could feel her surprise through the Force.
I snarled, my golden eyes blazing with conviction. "This is my fight, and I dictate how this goes."
With a surge of Force-augmented strength, I broke the lock, spun behind her with speed that blurred my movements, and swept her legs with a low kick enhanced by the Force.
She hit the dirt, rolling instantly to rise, but I was already there. My saber was at her throat before she could fully recover, the golden blade humming inches from her neck.
The firelight glinted across her visor. For a long, silent moment, we both breathed hard, our weapons humming in the tense stillness.
Then Bo-Katan disengaged her blades, dropping them to the dirt. She sat back on one knee, tilting her head up toward me in a gesture that carried weight—acknowledgment, respect.
"Enough."
The Death Watch erupted in shouts, some furious, others awed, all of them loud and chaotic.
Bo-Katan reached up and pulled her helmet free. Sweat plastered her red hair to her temples, and her green eyes were sharp as ever as she stared at me.
"You just barely won," she said, her voice low but carrying across the circle. "Don't think for a second this makes you Mandalorian. But..." She stood, brushing dirt from her armor with deliberate movements. "You fought like your mother at the end. You learned. You endured. One day, you will be ready to lead Clan Vizsla."
She pointed a gauntleted finger at me, her expression serious.
"Remember this. Selene taught me those lessons in blood. Tonight, I gave them back to you. Do not waste them."
The Death Watch murmured in agreement, their voices a low rumble of approval.
I deactivated my blade, my chest still heaving with exertion. I bowed my head slightly, showing respect. "I won't."
Bo-Katan nodded once. "Then maybe... just maybe... you're worthy of what comes next."
She retrieved the black Krayt dragon pearl necklace and the Taung Iron ingot from the warrior who'd been holding them, then handed them back to me.
I took them, feeling their weight in a way I never had before. They weren't just objects anymore, they were a connection to a past I'd never known and a future I was only beginning to understand.
I feel like, for the first time in a long time, I've found new purpose again. Real purpose. And it feels... right.
But there was still one question I needed answered.
"Bo," I said, meeting her eyes. "I have a question. Does the name Jaster Mereel ring a bell?"
Bo-Katan's expression shifted, surprise mixed with something that looked like old grief. "Yes. He was one of your mother's most trusted warriors. He disappeared along with her." She paused, her jaw tightening. "We found out he was dead as well, later."
Okay, so Jaster still existed in this timeline. That means I might be able to talk to Jango Fett and get him to back down from working with Dooku.
The implications spun through my mind rapidly. If Jango had been trained by Jaster, if he still held to the True Mandalorian ideals, then maybe, just maybe, I could reach him. Convince him that being the template for a slave army wasn't what Jaster would have wanted.
Which reminds me, I thought, feeling the lingering ache in my muscles and the bruises forming across my ribs and jaw, I need to increase my training intensity. This fight opened my eyes and showed me how much I still have to learn.
Bo-Katan had been holding back, I realized. She could have ended the fight at any point during those first three clashes. She'd been teaching me, testing me, pushing me to find something deeper within myself.
And I almost failed. If I hadn't remembered why I was fighting, I would have lost.
Anakin approached, his hand clapping down on my shoulder with a grin that was equal parts proud and relieved. "That was incredible, Cain. I thought she had you for a while there."
"She did have me," I admitted, wincing slightly as I rotated my shoulder. "I just got lucky at the end."
"That wasn't luck," Seris said quietly, her gray eyes studying me with that perceptive gaze that always seemed to see too much. "You changed. Something shifted in you during that fight."
I met her eyes and nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think it did."
Bo-Katan was speaking with the other Death Watch members now, her voice carrying authority as she explained what had just happened. I caught fragments of the conversation, mentions of Selene, of the True Mandalorians, of what this might mean for their future.
This is just the beginning, I thought, looking around at the assembled warriors. I've earned their attention, maybe even some of their respect. But earning their loyalty? That's going to take a lot more than winning one fight.
The fire crackled low, casting long shadows across the Concordia canyon. Above us, the stars shone cold and distant, indifferent to the small drama playing out on this moon.
But for me, for Anakin and Seris, for Bo-Katan and the Death Watch warriors gathered here—this moment mattered. This was where everything began to change.
One step at a time, I told myself, feeling the weight of the necklace and ingot in my pocket. One choice at a time.
And maybe, just maybe, I can actually pull this off.