The first thing I became aware of was the sensation of floating.
Not the weightless drift of meditation or the astral projection I'd experienced on Tython, this was different. Physical. My body suspended in thick liquid that pressed against my skin from all sides, warm and viscous, like being cradled in amniotic fluid. The blue-green glow filtered through my closed eyelids, painting the darkness behind them in shades of aquamarine and jade.
Then came the breathing tube. The foreign object lodged in my throat, forcing air into my lungs with mechanical precision. My body wanted to gag, to reject it, but some deeper instinct kept me still. The bacta worked its way through my systemI could feel it, a tingling sensation that spread through my veins like liquid starlight, knitting torn muscle fibers back together, rehydrating cells that had been pushed far beyond their limits.
I tried to open my eyes. The effort felt monumental, like lifting a mountain with my eyelids alone. When I finally managed it, the world swam into focus through the transparisteel viewport of the tank. Blurred shapes moved beyond the glass, people, I realized. Monitors beeped steadily somewhere to my left, their rhythmic pulses matching the slow, forced beat of my heart.
Where am I?
Panic tried to claw its way up my throat, but the bacta's sedative properties kept it muted, distant. I forced myself to focus, to gather my bearings. The ceiling above was familiar, the distinctive architecture of the Jedi Temple's medical wing.
Through the viewport, I could make out the Coruscant skyline beyond tall windows, the city-planet's endless lights twinkling in what appeared to be nighttime.
The Temple. I'm back at the Temple.
My gaze drifted, taking in more details. Medical equipment surrounded my tank, their displays showing readouts I couldn't quite decipher through the liquid and my own exhaustion. To my right, another bacta tank stood parallel to mine, and my heart lurched when I recognized the figure floating within it. Depa.
She was unconscious, her dark skin taking on an ethereal quality in the blue-green glow, her locs drifting around her face like seaweed in a gentle current. Relief flooded through me so intensely it made my chest ache. She's okay. She's alive.
Movement caught my attention. Two figures stood near the monitors, a Togruta woman in healer's robes and the unmistakable form of Master Plo Koon, his breathing mask and goggles reflecting the tank's glow. The Togruta was speaking, gesturing to one of the displays, and I recognized her instantly.
Healer Vela. The first person I'd met when I woke up in this world, all those years ago. As if sensing my awareness, Plo turned. Even through the mask and goggles, I could feel the weight of his gaze. He moved closer to the tank, placing one clawed hand against the transparisteel, and I saw his shoulders relax slightly, relief, I realized. He'd been worried.
Vela noticed his movement and followed his gaze. Her eyes widened when she saw mine were open, and she immediately began working the tank's controls. "He's awake," she said, her voice muffled by the liquid but still audible. "Vital signs are stabilizing. We can begin extraction."
The next few minutes were a blur of sensation. The bacta began to drain, the liquid level dropping steadily until I was no longer floating but standing on the tank's floor, my legs trembling with the effort of supporting my own weight. The breathing tube retracted with a sensation that made me want to retch, and then the tank's door hissed open, releasing me into the cooler air of the medical wing.
I stumbled forward, and Plo was there instantly, his strong hands catching me before I could fall. He wrapped a warm towel around my shoulders, when had someone brought that?, and guided me to a nearby bench. My legs felt like they were made of water, my muscles screaming in protest at every movement.
"Easy, Padawan," Plo said gently, his voice carrying that distinctive resonance through his mask. "You've been through quite an ordeal. Take your time."
Vela appeared with a cup of warm tea, pressing it into my shaking hands. The heat felt good against my palms, grounding me in the present moment. I brought it to my lips and sipped carefully, the liquid soothing my raw throat.
"What happened?" I managed to croak out, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why are we back at the Jedi Temple?"
Plo and Vela exchanged a look, the kind of look that made my stomach drop, the kind that said whatever they were about to tell me was bad. Really bad.
Vela knelt in front of me, her dark eyes serious but kind. "Padawan Cain," she began, her voice gentle but firm. "You were in critical condition when they brought you here."
My eyes widened. "Critical condition?" I echoed, the words not quite making sense. I mean, yes, I'd fought Depa for three days straight, Mace had said as much. I knew I'd pushed myself hard, knew the Force could only support my body for so long. But critical condition? That seemed... extreme.
"Was I really that bad?" I asked, then another thought occurred to me. "And how long have I been in the bacta tank?"
Vela nodded slowly, her expression grave. "Yes, you were that bad. Every muscle fiber in your body was torn in some capacity, some completely shredded. You were severely dehydrated, malnourished, and suffering from acute Force exhaustion. Your body had essentially cannibalized itself trying to keep up with the demands you were placing on it." She paused, studying my face. "You were in a condition similar to when you first arrived at the Temple as a child, but this time it was much, much worse."
The memory of that first awakening flashed through my mind, the confusion, the weakness, the sense of being utterly broken. To think I'd put myself back in that state...
"I still don't fully understand how you recover so quickly," Vela continued, a note of professional curiosity entering her voice. "It may be your unique biology as a Sephi hybrid, or your exceptionally high affinity with the Force. Most likely, it's a combination of both. But Cain..." She placed a hand on my knee, her touch warm and reassuring. "You've only been in the bacta tank for barely two days since arriving back at the Temple."
Two days. Only two days, and I was already awake and coherent. That should have been impossible. The injuries she'd described would have kept a normal person in bacta for weeks, if not longer.
"It's more than just that, Cain," Plo spoke up, his voice carrying a weight that made me look up at him. He moved to sit beside me on the bench, and I noticed the way his shoulders were tense, the way his hands gripped his knees just a little too tightly.
He was about to tell me something he didn't want to say.
"Cain," he said quietly, and I'd never heard his voice sound so sad, so heavy with emotion. "You nearly died." He paused, and I could feel him gathering his courage through our bond. "No, that's not accurate. The truth is... you did die. But the Force revived you or better to say Anakin did."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I sat there, the tea cup trembling in my hands, my mind trying to process what Master Plo had just said. My mouth opened, closed, opened again, but no sound came out.
I died? And Anakin revived me?
"Master..." I finally managed, my voice cracking. "What do you mean I died and then the Anakin revived me?"
Plo's shoulders sagged, and even through his mask, I could sense the sadness radiating from him. He reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder, the gesture both comforting and grounding.
"Let me tell you what happened after you collapsed," he said gently.
The story he told made my blood run cold.
Apparently, when I'd collapsed from exhaustion on Tython, my body had immediately begun to seize. Anakin and the others had noticed something the Masters hadn't, Through our bond in the Force, the pain and absence of my very being. My heart had stopped beating. Just... stopped. Like someone had flipped a switch and turned off the most vital part of me.
Seris had been the first to realize it. She'd dropped to her knees beside me, her hands hovering over my chest, her face going pale. "His heart has stopped," she'd said, her voice breaking with panic, tears already streaming down her face.
That's when the Masters had moved into action.
Plo had checked my pulse, confirming what Seris had sensed. No heartbeat. No breath. Nothing. Without hesitation, he'd placed his hands on my chest and channeled a small burst of Electric Judgment directly into my heart, a controlled shock meant to restart the cardiac rhythm.
But still nothing. He'd tried again. And again. Each time, my body would jerk from the electrical current, but my heart remained stubbornly still.
Master Fay had immediately begun using Force Healing, her ancient power flowing into me, keeping my brain and other organs from deteriorating due to lack of oxygen and blood flow. She'd held me in stasis, essentially, preventing death from claiming what it had already taken.
Meanwhile, Mace and Obi-Wan had rushed Depa to the ship. She'd been found unconscious from exhaustion, her body having finally given out after three days of continuous combat. Obi-Wan had prepped the ship for immediate departure while Mace secured Depa in the medical bay.
Within minutes, I'd been brought aboard. Both Master Fay and Plo were still working on me, still trying to restart my heart, still pouring their power into keeping me from slipping away entirely. But nothing was working.
Seris had been holding back tears, her mind racing through every healing technique she'd ever learned, trying to find something, anything, that could help. Anakin had stood frozen, his face pale, feeling utterly powerless in a way he'd never experienced before. Derren had torn through the ship's medical journals, searching for some procedure, some technique they could use with their limited resources.
But there was nothing. We were three days away from Coruscant in hyperspace, and I was dead.
By the second day of the journey, the Masters were exhausted. They'd been maintaining their healing efforts non-stop, taking only brief moments to rest before diving back in. Fay's face had grown drawn, her ancient features showing the strain of sustaining such powerful healing for so long. Plo's movements had become slower, more deliberate, as he conserved his energy for the next attempt to restart my heart.
That's when Seris had the idea.
She'd turned to Anakin, her silver eyes burning with a conviction that bordered on desperation. "Anakin," she'd said, grabbing his arm. "You need to try to reach out to Cain in the Force. Try to heal him."
Anakin had looked at her like she was crazy. "Seris, I don't know Force Heal. I've never even attempted it. How am I supposed to...."
"You can do it, your the Chosen One. Cain believed that, so your our bond and bring him back." Seris had interrupted, her voice fierce. "We can save him, Anakin. And you are the key to it."
At that exact moment, back at the Temple on Coruscant, Barriss had suddenly stopped in the middle of her training with Luminara. She'd dropped to her knees in the meditation garden, her eyes going distant, her connection to me through our bond flaring to life.
"He's in trouble," she'd said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Cain is in trouble. I can feel it." Without another word, she'd begun to meditate, reaching out across the vast distance of space, sending her strength, her power, her very life force toward me.
Back on the ship, Anakin had trusted Seris. He'd placed his hands on my body, closed his eyes, and reached deep into the Force. Master Fay had guided him, her voice soft and steady, helping him find the feeling he needed, the sensation of life, of healing, of knitting together what had been torn apart.
"Feel the Force flowing through you," Fay had instructed. "Don't force it. Don't grasp at it. Simply let it flow from you into him. Let it carry your will, your desire for him to live. Let your bond call him back to us."
Anakin had focused, his brow furrowing with concentration. And then, something had happened. Both Anakin and I had begun to glow.
Anakin's aura had manifested first, that distinctive silverish deep sapphire blue that marked him as the Chosen One, the light so bright it had made everyone shield their eyes. And then my own aura had flared to life, golden and radiant, like a sun being born in the darkness of space.
When Anakin had opened his eyes, they were no longer their usual blue. They'd turned a silvery white, glowing with power that seemed to come from somewhere beyond him, beyond any of them. And then I'd opened my eyes. Golden. Burning like two suns.
The ship had filled with light, brilliant, overwhelming, beautiful light that had poured from both of us like water from a broken dam. The Force presence had been so powerful, so intense, that it had rippled across space itself. Back at the Temple, Jedi had stopped in their tracks, turning toward the source of that incredible surge of power. Some had fallen to their knees in awe. Others had simply stood there, tears streaming down their faces, feeling something they couldn't quite name but knew was sacred.
And then, as suddenly as it had come, the light had faded. My heart had started beating again. Slow at first, then stronger, finding its rhythm. My breathing had resumed, shallow but steady. The monitors had begun to beep, showing vital signs that had been flatlined moments before.
I'd been stabilized. Saved by the combined power of Anakin's unprecedented connection to the Force and the bonds I'd forged with my friends.
"Cain," Plo said gently, pulling me back to the present. "I believe you touched too much of the Force, more than your body was ready to handle. The raw power flowing through you during that duel, during the Force Resonance... it quite literally destroyed you from the inside out."
I sat there, the tea cup forgotten in my hands, my mind reeling. I'd overdosed on the Force. The Force itself, the energy field that connected all living things, the power I'd been training to master my entire life in this world, had killed me.
Fear crashed over me like a wave, cold and suffocating. My hands began to shake, the tea sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the cup. I could feel my breathing becoming rapid, shallow, my chest tightening with panic.
I died. I actually died. Again.
The thought spiraled through my mind, gaining momentum, becoming more terrifying with each repetition. If I use Force Resonance again, will I die? If I reach too deep into the Force, will it kill me? How much is too much? How do I know where the line is?
I looked down at my hands, these hands that had wielded lightsabers, that had channeled the Force, that had reached out and connected with my friends across vast distances. They were shaking uncontrollably now, trembling like leaves in a storm.
Tears began to well up in my eyes, hot and stinging. The moment I'd felt like I was finally making progress, finally understanding what I was capable of, this had happened. I'd pushed too far, reached too deep, and it had killed me.
I'm scared, I realized with a jolt. I'm actually terrified.
"Cain," Plo said softly, his hand still on my shoulder. "How do you feel? I know this is a lot to take in."
I opened my mouth to respond, to say something reassuring, to put on the brave face I'd worn for so long. But the words wouldn't come. All I could think about was the void, the darkness, the sensation of dying. All I could feel was the fear, raw and primal and overwhelming.
What if I can't do this anymore? What if every time I try to push myself, I risk dying? What if next time, Anakin isn't there to save me?
That's when I heard footsteps, multiple sets, moving quickly down the corridor toward the medical wing. I looked up, my vision blurred with unshed tears, and saw them.
Barriss and Seris burst through the doorway first, their faces lighting up with relief when they saw me sitting there. They didn't hesitate, didn't slow down. They came straight for me, and before I could react, I was grabbed from behind and held tight.
Barriss's arms wrapped around me from the left, her embrace fierce and desperate. Seris took the right, her grip just as strong, her face pressed against my shoulder. I could feel them trembling, could sense the fear they'd been holding back, the terror of almost losing me.
Then Anakin and Derren appeared, moving to stand in front of me. Anakin placed a hand on my shoulder, his blue eyes, back to their normal color now, filled with concern and relief. Derren mirrored the gesture on my other shoulder, his calm presence a steadying force.
They were all here. All of them, surrounding me, holding me, their warmth and presence chasing away some of the cold fear that had gripped my heart.
"Cain," Seris said, her voice muffled against my shoulder but burning with conviction. "It's alright. You're going to be alright, I promise." I could see a small tear forming in her eye, threatening to spill over. "You're here. You're alive. That's what matters."
"Please don't scare us like that again," Barriss added, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what we would do if we lost you. When I felt you slipping away, when I felt that connection starting to fade..." She couldn't finish the sentence, just held me tighter.
I was stunned. This open display of affection, especially from Seris who usually maintained such careful control over her emotions, was completely unexpected. They were breaking protocol, ignoring the Jedi teachings about attachment, and they didn't care. In this moment, they were just my friends, scared and relieved and grateful that I was still here.
Anakin squeezed my shoulder gently, a smile breaking across his face despite the worry still lingering in his eyes. "Cain, glad you're okay. You had us worried like crazy, man. When your heart stopped, when we couldn't feel you in the Force anymore..." He shook his head. "I've never been that scared in my life."
"I'm glad you made it," Derren said, his voice carrying that steady calm that always seemed to ground everyone around him. "This Order isn't the same without you. We're not the same without you."
And then I felt it, a warm presence covering me in a healing embrace through the Force. It was our bond, the connection we'd forged through training and friendship and shared experiences. I could feel how they felt, and they could feel me as well. The fear, the relief, the love, it all flowed between us like a river, connecting us in a way that went beyond words.
"Cain," Anakin said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "You're not alone with this. I know it must have been scary, hell, it was terrifying for us too. But we're your friends. We're your family. So please, learn to lean on us. Let us help you carry this weight."
Damn, Anakin is always so cool in moments like these.
But even as I thought it, I could feel the truth beneath his brave words. Through our bond, I sensed how scared he'd been, how worried. He'd felt powerless when my heart stopped, helpless in a way that had shaken him to his core. But he was putting on a brave front now, being strong for me because he knew I needed it.
Seris's feelings were radiating off her like heat from a sun. I could tell she'd been terrified, absolutely terrified, but she'd channeled that fear into conviction, the determination to save me, to not let me slip away. Her emotions were complex, layered, and I could sense something deeper beneath the surface. Something she wasn't saying.
One of these days, I'll have to address her feelings, I thought, not for the first time. I'm not blind to them. But it feels wrong, I'm an adult in a teen's body, and I've known her since she was a child. It's complicated. It's messy. It feels too much like grooming, no matter how I look at it.
It wasn't that I didn't like her. Seris was brilliant, strong, compassionate, and beautiful. But the circumstances were all wrong. I'd decided years ago to wait until I was an adult, truly adult, not just physically, before thinking about love or dating. There were more pressing matters to worry about, more important things to focus on.
Hopefully, by the time I'm in my twenties, this stuff will be easier to navigate.
I pushed those thoughts aside and looked up at everyone gathered around me. My friends. My family. The people who'd literally brought me back from death.
"Thanks, guys," I said, my voice rough with emotion. "You really are the best friends a guy could have." I embraced them all back, pulling them closer, letting myself feel the warmth and safety of their presence.
That's when Master Plo stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You may also rely on me, Padawan," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "As well as my fellow Masters. I am here to instruct and guide you, yes, but I am also here to support you. You don't have to carry everything alone."
I felt a soft hand press gently against my back and looked around to see Master Fay standing there, a small smile on her ancient face. "You can rely on me as well, Padawan," she said warmly. "I may not be your master in the traditional sense, but I will support you regardless. You've touched something profound in the Force, Cain. Something that frightens you. But you don't have to face that fear alone."
Movement in the doorway caught my attention. Master Windu stood there, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable as always. But then he gave me a single nod, a gesture of respect, of acknowledgment, of approval.
I knew what that meant. He'd seen what I'd done, seen the power I'd touched, and he wasn't afraid of it. He trusted me to handle it, to grow from it.
The weight of their support, their belief in me, was almost overwhelming. For so long, I'd been carrying everything alone, the knowledge of the future, the plans I was making, the secrets I was keeping. But in this moment, surrounded by people who cared about me, I felt some of that weight lift.
Not all of it. Not yet. But enough to breathe a little easier.
Later that night, after the others had reluctantly left to get some rest, I found myself sitting alone beneath a stone archway in one of the Temple's meditation gardens. The Coruscant night sky stretched above me, the stars barely visible through the light pollution of the city-planet, but I could feel them there nonetheless.
I closed my eyes and reached out to the Force, tentative at first, afraid of what might happen. But the Force responded gently, swirling softly around me like a flowing river of warm embrace. It didn't pull at me, didn't demand anything. It simply... was. Present. Constant. Waiting.
It's good to let go of that fear, I thought, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders. I accept now that if I die using the Force to protect others, I'll die happily. I just need to make a habit of not doing it during training.
I chuckled at myself, the sound quiet in the stillness of the garden. Leave it to me to nearly kill myself in a training exercise.
But the humor faded quickly as my mind turned to more serious matters. There was so much to do, so many plans to set in motion. I'd been given a second chance, literally brought back from death, and I couldn't waste it.
I know now I can bring some Masters into my fold, I thought, organizing my thoughts. Master Fay can be trusted completely. She's seen too much, lived too long, to be blind to the Order's failings. She'll understand what I'm trying to do.
But Mace was a different story. Mace loved the Republic, believed in it with a fervor that bordered on faith. He couldn't see how blind he was to that fact, couldn't recognize that his loyalty to the Republic was preventing him from seeing its corruption.
Hopefully, I can change his mind in the future, I mused. Help him see that serving the people of the galaxy and serving those in power aren't always the same thing.
An idea began to form in my mind. I could create a sect within the Order, something like the Corellian Jedi, but focused specifically on monitoring the politics of the galaxy. A group dedicated to staying informed about all the little things, the subtle shifts in power, the quiet corruptions that grew in the shadows.
If I could get Mace to lead something like that, to use his tactical brilliance and his dedication to justice to root out corruption before it took hold... that could change everything. And Quinlan Vos would be perfect for that role too, his experience as a Shadow, his ability to move through the underworld, his understanding of how darkness operated.
But even as I planned, another realization settled over me like a heavy cloak. One I'd long accepted but had been dreading to think about too deeply. No matter how much I want my new Order or Alliance Government to last, it too shall fall and eventually crumble.
It was a natural process of life, as inevitable as the changing of seasons. Whether through slow corruption until it was no longer recognizable, or through the extinction of all life in the galaxy it governed, or because it was overthrown by those who saw it as tyrannical, the reasons were endless, and they could happen at any time. In a few hundred years, or a thousand, or ten thousand.
Change would come. It always did. I just hope that when it does, it's the change of evolution and not regression, I thought. So while I'm alive, I will do my best to leave this universe better than how I found it.
Maybe if more long-lived species led the galaxy, especially non-human ones, the same mistakes wouldn't be made so easily. Enough people would have seen how it was before and would refuse to let it happen again.
But that didn't mean long-lived species weren't capable of making the same mistakes or suffering from complacency. Just look at Yoda. He was over 800 years old, had seen countless conflicts and political shifts, and yet he'd become passive. Not inactive, exactly, but not active in the ways that mattered. He'd let the Order stagnate, let it become too entangled with the Republic, and now they were all paying the price.
My thoughts drifted back to the entity I'd seen during my astral projection on Tython. That massive, incomprehensible being made of stars and cosmos, with its featureless white face and its single word: "Interesting."
Was that the Great Shaper?
The Great Shaper was from the Supernatural Encounters series, a fan project that had been created to introduce more lore into Star Wars. It had been approved at some point, was going to be added to official canon, but when Disney bought Lucasfilm, it had been shelved. Still, it remained part of Legends lore, at least unofficially.
I didn't remember much about it beyond YouTube videos and what I'd read on the official website. But if that entity was the Great Shaper, it meant that being was from a race of celestial entities responsible for creating and populating the universe itself.
That makes me wonder even more, what is the Force really?
If the Great Shaper existed, that meant all the other higher beings and nightmarish entities from Supernatural Encounters existed too. The Bedlam Spirits. The Ones. Abeloth. Entities that made the Sith and Jedi look like children playing with toys.
Is the Force just the beginning of a larger world we mortals haven't even begun to understand? I wondered. What if it's just training wheels, a test to see if we're worthy of something greater? To see if our ancestors were ready to be given more power and ascend to greater heights?
That had been the implication in Supernatural Encounters, that the Force was merely the first step, the foundation upon which something far more profound could be built. But the ancient civilizations had failed that test, had destroyed themselves or fallen to darkness, and so the higher powers had withdrawn, leaving only the Force behind.
I wonder if there's an even greater power than the Force, I thought. Or maybe we've barely even begun to understand anything in this galaxy.
I should definitely research the Lost Force technology, the ancient devices that had created things like the Star Forge, the Infinite Engine, the World Razer. Technology so advanced it seemed like magic, so powerful it could reshape reality itself.
What if instead of traveling through hyperspace with ships, we could teleport from planet to planet? The thought was exciting, almost intoxicating. What if we could create a network of portals, instant transportation across the galaxy? That would change everything.
I centered myself, pulling back from the spiraling thoughts, and opened my eyes. The garden was peaceful around me, the Force flowing gently through the plants and stones.
I'm thinking too much, I realized. I can't possibly understand how deep things go. I can't even understand the void world I enter, what it even is. Mother Talzin still won't tell me about it, and she's one of the most knowledgeable Force users alive.
I needed to focus on what I could control, what I could actually accomplish. The rest would come in time, or it wouldn't. Either way, I had more immediate concerns.
I should start making my moves now, I decided. Plo, Fay, Talzin, the Bendu. The Outer Rim planets. Noctis will start calling meetings, introducing people, building alliances with those who think similarly.
That also meant the cloning facility on Kamino needed to be dealt with as soon as possible. I couldn't let the clone army be created as planned, couldn't let Palpatine have that weapon at his disposal.
And then there was Dooku. Count Dooku, or Darth Tyranus as Sidious called him. I needed to stop him, or redeem him if possible. But even as I was now, I knew I couldn't win in a duel against him. I might last a good minute longer than Anakin had in the movie, if I was lucky. But my strength in the Force didn't change the fact that Dooku was one of the best duelists of this era, a master of Makashi who'd spent decades perfecting his craft.
I need to grow stronger, I thought. Not just with a blade, but in the Force and in experience. Bo-Katan was right, I need to face stronger opponents who can push me past my limits. But I needed to do it smartly this time. No more pushing myself to the point of death. No more overdosing on the Force. I needed to find the balance, the line between growth and destruction.
One step at a time, I told myself. Build the foundation first. Gather allies. Strengthen the bonds I've already formed. And then, when the time is right, make my move.
I sat there for a while longer, letting the Force flow through me, feeling the peace of the garden settle into my bones. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new obstacles to overcome. But tonight, I could rest. Tonight, I could simply be.
The next day, I stood before Masters Fay and Plo Koon in a private chamber deep within the Temple. The room was small and intimate, designed for confidential conversations, with sound-dampening fields built into the walls. Whatever was said here would stay here.
I bowed low, respectfully, gathering my courage for what I was about to ask.
"Masters," I began, my voice steady despite the nervousness I felt. "I wish to study holocrons from the restricted section. Specifically, I'd like access to the teachings of Bastila Shan, Nomi Sunrider, and Tarre Vizsla, if he created one."
Plo's eyes narrowed behind his mask, and I could feel his concern through our bond. "You realize this is a significant request, Cain," he said carefully. "You nearly died just days ago, and now you're asking for access to knowledge that the Council has deemed dangerous. These figures walked... unconventional paths."
I nodded, having expected this response. "I do realize that, Master. That's precisely why I'm asking to study them only under your supervision. You may test me however you choose, observe my progress, intervene if you feel I'm going astray. But I believe understanding their choices—both their successes and their failures, will help me make my own decisions about the path I need to walk."
Bastila Shan had been a powerful Jedi during the Old Republic era, known for her Battle Meditation and her complicated relationship with Revan. In her later years, she'd changed her views on the Force and attachments, developing a philosophy that was closer to how Nomi Sunrider had viewed things. But the Jedi Council had rejected these ideas, deemed them too dangerous, too close to the kind of thinking that led Jedi astray.
Tarre Vizsla was even more controversial. He'd been the only Mandalorian ever accepted into the Jedi Order, a warrior who'd created the Darksaber and led his people while maintaining his connection to the Force. He'd walked a path that balanced two seemingly incompatible cultures, and he'd been respected by both Jedi and Mandalorians for his strength and wisdom.
I need to understand how he did it, I thought. How he maintained that balance without falling to either extreme.
Fay looked to Plo, and I could sense them communicating through the Force, weighing my request, considering the implications.
"And what is it you want to become, Padawan?" Fay asked, her ancient eyes studying me with an intensity that made me feel like she could see straight through to my soul.
I took a deep breath, centering myself. "I want to be worthy of my name," I said honestly. "And I want to be a force for great change and growth in the galaxy."
Plo Koon turned to face me fully, his posture shifting to something more serious. "What do you mean by being worthy of your name, when you claim not to know it? And why do you want to be a force of great change? What are you trying to accomplish, Cain?"
This was it. The moment of truth. I could continue hiding, continue keeping secrets, or I could trust them. Really trust them.
I bowed deeply, lower than before, a gesture of respect and vulnerability. "I have been hiding a secret from you, Master. Multiple secrets, actually." I straightened, meeting Plo's gaze through his goggles. "When I was on Mandalore, I discovered my ancestry, among other things. My full name is Cain Vizsla, and I am the child of Selene Vizsla, the former leader of House Vizsla and one of the founders and leaders of the True Mandalorians before they became Death Watch. I am also a descendant of the Jedi Mandalorian Tarre Vizsla."
Plo rubbed his chin thoughtfully, processing this information. "Ah, I can see why you hid your lineage. That must be quite a heavy burden to bear."
Fay nodded, her expression sympathetic. "Indeed. You could be seen as a political piece to help Mandalorians who don't support the Duchess's pacifist movement. Some might even try to use you to overthrow her government and send Mandalore into another civil war."
Wow, she's spot on, I thought, impressed by how quickly she'd grasped the political implications. I guess when you're as long-lived as she is, you start to recognize patterns in societies.
"But," Plo said, his voice taking on a gentler tone, "I sense that there is more to this story than just hiding your last name and your family history." He stepped closer, placing a hand gently on my shoulder. "Padawan Cain, please trust me. Trust us."
I looked at him, this being who had been the closest thing I'd had to a father these past few years. He'd taught me so much while never restricting me, had given me room to grow while guiding me, had been patient with me countless times when I'd pushed boundaries or questioned teachings.
And Fay had been like an aunt, showing support in small ways, never contradicting me, always having my back whether I knew it or not. They deserve the truth, I realized. All of it.
"Okay, Masters," I said, gesturing to the chairs in the room. "Please sit. I have much to tell you."
They sat, and I remained standing, pacing slightly as I gathered my thoughts. Where did I even begin?
"I'm going to tell you something that will sound impossible," I started. "Something that might make you think I've lost my mind. But I swear to you, on everything I hold sacred, that it's the truth."
I took a deep breath.
"I'm not from this world. Not originally. I'm from... somewhere else. Another reality, another universe entirely. In that world, this galaxy, your lives, your stories, they were fiction. Entertainment. I grew up reading books and watching videos about the Jedi, the Sith, the Republic, all of it. I knew your histories before I lived them."
Neither of them interrupted. They simply listened, their expressions unreadable.
"When I died in that other world, my first death, I woke up here, in this body, as a four-year-old child. I had all my memories, all my knowledge, but I was trapped in a child's form. That's why I seemed so mature, so unnaturally advanced. I wasn't really a child. I was an adult trying to navigate a world I'd only ever experienced as stories."
I continued, the words pouring out now that I'd started. I told them about my Force ability, about the void world I could access, about how I'd been writing books under a pseudonym to make money and build influence. I told them about creating the Noctis persona, about slowly building connections with senators around the galaxy, planting seeds for the future.
"I know what's coming," I said, my voice dropping. "I've seen it. The fall of the Republic. The rise of the Empire. The Jedi Purge, Order 66, they call it. I've seen Anakin's fall to the dark side, seen him become Darth Vader. I've seen the Clone Wars, the invasion of the Yuuzhan Vong, the reemergence of the Sith species and their Empire."
Plo's hand tightened on the armrest of his chair, but he said nothing.
"I've been trying to change it," I continued. "That's why I've been making deals with Bo-Katan and Death Watch, why I've been working with Mother Talzin, why I wanted to go to Tython. I'm trying to build something new, a new Order, a new government, something that can stand against what's coming."
I told them about the clone army being created on Kamino, about how it was all part of a Sith plot. I didn't name Palpatine, I had no proof, and I wasn't sure they'd believe me without it, but I told them that a Sith from the Darth Bane line had infiltrated the Republic Senate and was orchestrating everything from the shadows.
"That's why I need to study those holocrons," I said, finally coming to the point. "I need to understand how to walk the path I'm trying to create. How to balance light and dark without falling to either extreme. How to lead people without becoming a tyrant. How to change the galaxy without destroying it in the process."
I stopped pacing and turned to face them, my heart pounding. "This is everything, Masters. I'm sorry for hiding so much from you for so long. I just... I didn't know who I could trust. I didn't know if anyone would believe me."
The silence that followed was deafening. Plo and Fay looked at each other, and I could feel them communicating through the Force, processing everything I'd just told them. This is it, I thought, anxiety clawing at my chest. They're either going to believe me or report me to the Council. They're either going to help me or have me expelled from the Order.
Then Plo stood up and walked toward me. My heart was beating so quickly I thought it might burst. I didn't know if Plo would believe me or if he'd think I was insane. I didn't know if he'd embrace me or reject me.
When he reached me, I closed my eyes, bracing for whatever was coming. And then I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me into a warm embrace.
Wait. What?
I opened my eyes in shock. Plo had removed his goggles, and I could see his large black eyes staring at me with so much emotion, concern, compassion, sadness, and something that looked like pride.
"Cain," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "I am so sorry you went through so much for so long with such a heavy weight on your shoulders. Especially with no one to turn to, no one to share this burden with."
He believes me? Just like that?
"Master," I said, my voice cracking. "You don't doubt me?"
Plo shook his head, his embrace tightening slightly. "No, I believe you. It makes so much sense when you look at it. You were so mature for a four-year-old, unnaturally so. You had no fear of being misunderstood or disliked for not fitting in with the Order's ways or teachings. You only ever embraced others and guided them to be their best versions of themselves. You were never afraid to challenge authority, but you did it in a smart way, like an adult would."
Wow, when he puts it like that, I really sucked at pretending to be a kid.
But then again, I'd hated being a child again, hated being powerless. Even though it had been worth it to become stronger, to learn to use the Force and wield a lightsaber, the experience had been frustrating beyond measure.
"Cain, this is a lot to accept," Plo continued. "But there is one thing I am certain of."
"What is that, Master?"
"You were placed in this galaxy to be part of a greater change for good. The Force chose you. Not in the way it chose Anakin, it chose him to bring balance to itself. But you were chosen to bring balance in a way never seen before. I believe you were chosen to bring balance to the people who create the Force, who shape it through their actions and beliefs."
I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. "Master, what do you mean?"
"Cain, you were meant to bring balance to the people of the galaxy, which will in turn help bring balance to the Force itself."
"I agree," Fay said, standing and moving to join us. "You only need to look at the signs, Cain. You help bring balance to the Jedi Order, which you believe has lost its way. You help everyone regardless of politics, species, or beliefs. You bring everyone into your embrace, and through this, people slowly start to follow you. You're creating something new, something that could reshape the galaxy."
"But why believe me?" I asked, and I could hear the desperation in my own voice. "I go against everything I was taught. I have next to no evidence for most of what I said. So why choose to believe me and not kick me out of the Order?"
Tears were forming in my eyes now, hot and stinging. I didn't understand. Why would they believe me, a random nobody spouting nonsense about being from another world?
"Cain, we felt the Order lost its way a long time ago," Plo said gently. "And you helped awaken us to this truth. You chose from the beginning not to be trapped in this cycle, and you did it with your own skill and will. I believe in you, just like the Force and your friends believe in you as well."
Fay placed a hand on my back, her touch warm and reassuring. "I know it is hard to believe, but Cain, I not only believe you, I believe in you and your dream. And I would be honored if you would allow me to walk this path with you, to help you achieve it."
In that moment, all my walls came crashing down. The years of acting, of forcing myself to be strong, of carrying everything alone, it all broke apart like a dam giving way to a flood.
I dropped to my knees and cried.
I cried for the first time in my new life. Really cried, not just tears of frustration or pain, but deep, soul-wrenching sobs that came from a place I'd been keeping locked away for years. I cried for the loneliness, for the fear, for the weight of knowledge I'd been carrying. I cried for the child I'd never gotten to be, for the innocence I'd lost, for the burden of trying to save a galaxy that didn't even know it needed saving.
And through it all, my two parental figures were there, holding me, guiding me through this emotional release. Plo knelt beside me, one arm around my shoulders, while Fay placed a gentle hand on my head, her ancient power flowing through me like a healing balm.
They didn't tell me to stop. They didn't tell me to be strong or to pull myself together. They just let me cry, let me release everything I'd been holding back, and they stayed with me through all of it.
After what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, the sobs began to subside. My breathing evened out, and I felt... lighter. Exhausted, but lighter, like I'd been carrying a boulder on my back and had finally been allowed to set it down.
"It seems he finally let go of the burden he was holding onto," Plo said softly, his hand still on my shoulder. "He must be exhausted."
And he was right. The emotional release, combined with my still-recovering body, had drained me completely. My eyelids felt heavy, my limbs like lead. I tried to stay awake, tried to say something, but darkness was already pulling me under.
"Rest well, our young Padawan," Plo said, and I felt him lift me easily in his arms, cradling me like a child. "For when you wake next, we shall help you achieve your dreams. But today, have nothing but the sweetest of dreams."
"And may the Force protect you in your dreams," Fay added, and I felt her lips press gently against my forehead, a gesture so maternal it made my heart ache. As I drifted off to sleep, I felt something I hadn't felt in years, maybe ever, in either of my lives.
I felt safe. I felt loved. I felt like I wasn't alone anymore. And for the first time since waking up in this world, I slept soundly, deeply, without nightmares or anxiety or the weight of the future pressing down on me. I slept knowing that I had people who supported me, who believed in me, who would walk this impossible path with me.
I slept knowing that no matter what came next, I wouldn't have to face it alone.