I heard the hiss of the medbay door sliding open, the sound cutting through the quiet hum of medical equipment and the distant murmur of voices in the corridor beyond. I turned my head slightly, slowly, because everything still hurt, a deep, bone-weary ache that radiated from every wound Dooku had carved into my flesh. Through the doorway stepped Seris, her silver hair catching the sterile light of the medbay, her silver eyes widening the moment they found me sitting upright on the medical bed.
"Cain..." Her voice carried a mixture of relief and something that made my chest tighten. She rushed toward me, her usual composed grace giving way to urgency, concern etched clearly across her features. "I didn't think you'd be up so soon."
I gave her a tired, crooked smile despite the pain that flared with even that small movement. "Hey, Seris. Yeah, I'm up. Well, in a way." I shifted slightly, wincing as the motion pulled at the bandages wrapped around my torso. "How've you been? And how was the meeting?"
She walked toward me quickly, her boots clicking softly against the polished floor, and then stopped just a few feet away. For a moment she just looked at me, really looked at me, taking in the bandages, the bacta patches, the exhaustion that must have been written all over my face. From the look in her eyes and the pulse of emotion through our bond in the Force, I thought she was going to hug me, to close that distance and....
Smack.
Pain snapped across my cheek, sharp and sudden. My golden eye went wide as my head jerked to the side. "Ow... what the...?"
"What is wrong with you, Cain?" Seris's voice shook with anger, her usual icy composure completely shattered and replaced with raw emotion. Her silver eyes blazed with fury and something deeper, something more vulnerable. "Why would you and Anakin do something that reckless and stupid?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but she wasn't finished.
"No don't speak. If it weren't for Master Plo, Master Fay, and everyone else, who knows what would've happened to you two?" Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, trembling slightly. "What would we have told Anakin's mother? They just finally reconnected! And this entire thing was your plan, how would we go forward without you?"
I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again. She was right. There wasn't a good excuse for being as stupid as I'd been, and I knew it. I watched her, really watched her, the tension in her shoulders, the way her lips pressed tightly together, the way her fingers curled like she was stopping herself from shaking. Our connection in the Force told me everything I needed to know.
She was scared. Scared of losing me. Scared that I wouldn't trust her to stand by my side when it mattered most.
I couldn't help it; a soft smile tugged at my lips despite everything. I liked seeing this side of her, the Seris who cared enough to be furious, who didn't hide behind walls of perfect control and diplomatic distance.
Seris saw the way I looked at her, saw that small smile forming on my face.
Then another sharp smack stung across my other cheek. My head snapped to the side again, and I blinked in surprise.
"Just because you're injured," she snapped, her voice carrying an edge that would have been intimidating if I didn't know her so well, "doesn't mean I won't kick your ass if you keep smiling at me like that."
I put my hands up in surrender, my long, pointed ears twitching nervously, a tell I'd never quite managed to suppress. "Okay, okay... truce. No more smiling. I will be very serious and remorseful." Damn, I think I like this side of her, I thought, unable to completely suppress my appreciation. I love a woman who could kick my ass.
She exhaled slowly, her anger cooling into concern as she sat down beside me on the medical bed. The mattress dipped slightly under her weight, and I felt the warmth of her presence close to mine. "So... how are you feeling?"
I sighed, letting my shoulders slump slightly. "I've been better. Not as bad as the time I actually died, but..." I gestured vaguely at myself, at the bandages and bacta patches that covered most of my upper body. "Definitely not fun. But some cuts and possibly losing an eye is better than dying. Plus, I did learn something from this."
"Oh really?" Seris folded her arms across her chest, arching one elegant eyebrow in a way that was both skeptical and somehow endearing. "Besides 'not dueling one of the best duelists of the Order alone or with another Padawan'?"
I nodded, my expression growing more serious. "I learned not to bite off more than I can chew... until I can make sure I can devour my enemies whole." My hand drifted up to the left side of my face, fingers brushing against the texture of bacta-soaked bandages. "I still have a long way to go, but I'll make sure never to enter a situation like this again without being properly prepared."
I started unwinding the bandages slowly, carefully peeling away each layer. Seris moved closer, grabbing a small mirror from the medical tray beside the bed, watching in silence. I could feel her gaze on me, intent and focused, as the last strip of bandage came free.
A thin vertical scar carved from my eyebrow down to just above my cheekbone, the skin still pink and angry around the edges. The bacta patch had healed it remarkably well, the scar was nearly gone, just a faint line that would probably fade further with time. My eye itself was still golden, pupil and iris intact and seemingly undamaged. I blinked my left eye open experimentally as Seris held the mirror in front of me.
"How does it look?" I asked
Seris leaned in closer, so close that I could smell her, something faintly sweet and clean, with an underlying scent that was uniquely hers, strangely calming and intoxicating all at once. My heart gave an odd little thud in my chest, a sensation I wasn't entirely prepared for. She brushed a loose strand of silver-white hair behind her long, pointed ear, and I noticed the faintest hint of color rising in her cheeks, though she tried to hide it.
"Your eye is still as golden and beautiful as ever," she said softly, her voice losing its sharp edge and becoming something gentler, more intimate.
I smiled in relief, genuine gratitude washing over me. "That's good, at least. It feels... weird, though. Looks normal, but I actually can't see out of it properly." I blinked a few more times, letting the light settle, trying to make sense of the strange sensations. "It's like... I can see and I can't at the same time. It's blurry, but there are... colors and... cracks?"
Before I could elaborate further, the door hissed open again. Master Plo Koon entered with Master Fay beside him, their presence in the Force immediately recognizable, Plo's steady, grounded calm and Fay's sereneness. A medical droid hovered between them, its photoreceptors flickering as it scanned the room.
I straightened slightly, showing respect despite my injuries. "Master Koon. Master Fay."
The droid floated forward immediately, beginning its scan of my vitals. Its mechanical voice was precise and clinical. "Patient Padawan Cain status: stable. Multiple superficial and moderately deep lightsaber lacerations healing well from bacta treatment. Muscular fatigue and nerve stress detected near lightning burn sites. Some calcification has occurred on skeletal structure, consistent with Force lightning exposure. Primary anomaly: left ocular function."
Plo Koon folded his hands behind his back, his masked face turning toward me with that characteristic tilt that indicated deep thought. "How does your eye feel, Cain?"
I touched the scar lightly, feeling the raised texture of healing skin. "Physically? Sore. Vision-wise? Strange."
I looked at the droid, focusing on it with my left eye. "I can't see you properly. Just... fog. No real detail or definition. But when I look at you, Master..." I turned my head toward Plo Koon, and suddenly the world through my left eye exploded into something entirely different. "I see this bluish aura, with... yellow mixed in. And tiny cracks running through it. Faint shatterpoints, I think."
I shifted my gaze to Master Fay, and the vision changed again. "Master Fay's aura is pure white and so calm, like starlight. Barely any cracks at all, just a few hairline fractures that seem almost intentional, like they're part of the pattern rather than weaknesses."
Then I looked at Seris.
Her aura flared in my left eye like a supernova, silver and gold intertwined in complex patterns, bright and sharp and impossibly beautiful. Small fractures danced along its edges like starlight breaking on glass, creating intricate geometric patterns that shifted and changed as I watched. It was mesmerizing, hypnotic, and I found myself staring longer than I probably should have.
"Seris," I said slowly, my voice carrying a note of wonder, "you're... silver-gold. And there are cracks, like shatterpoints, but they're different. Everything is so different when I look at you."
Seris blinked, her expression shifting from concern to curiosity. "Different how?"
I frowned, trying to articulate what I was experiencing. "I'm not controlling it, really. It's like it's happening on its own, automatically. When I focus, it's like I can see Force auras in perfect clarity, and the cracks, the shatterpoints, intensify and become more defined."
Plo Koon rubbed his chin thoughtfully, a gesture I'd seen him make countless times when contemplating a difficult problem. "It sounds as though your eye has... evolved its relationship with the Force."
I stared at him, my good eye widening. "Evolved?"
"It's my theory," Plo said carefully, "but a reasonable one based on what you're describing. Your physical sight appears to be partially compromised in that eye. The Force, however, abhors a vacuum. With your exceptionally high affinity for the Force, your body may have adapted, replacing lost physical sight with enhanced perception of the Force itself, using your other senses in combination to create a new form of vision. The Force auras and shatterpoints you're seeing. You are not blind in that eye, Cain... merely seeing differently."
Master Fay nodded, her ancient face serene and knowing. "Such transformations are not unheard of in the history of Force-sensitives. The Miraluka people, for instance, were known for having similar sight abilities, they saw through the Force rather than through physical eyes."
Plo's tone turned stern, carrying the weight of a master concerned for his student's wellbeing. "But constant exposure to shatterpoints is not without significant danger. Even Master Windu only uses that sight deliberately, with years of discipline and mental fortitude to support it. For you to be immersed in it at all times... it would be overwhelming, perhaps even maddening. The temptation to see weakness in everything, to know how to break and destroy at a glance, it could corrupt even the strongest will."
I swallowed hard, understanding the gravity of what he was saying. "I agree. Seeing how to break things constantly would be too tempting without the right control and discipline. So... what should I do, Master?"
"Until you can master it, Padawan," Plo said gently but firmly, "you should keep the eye covered. Learn to open and close that sight at will, to control when and how you use it. Even improve it so it becomes a strength rather than a liability. With time and training, this could become one of your greatest assets."
I nodded slowly, accepting the wisdom in his words. "Yes, Master."
The medical droid moved forward, extending a small tray. "I have appropriate ocular coverings available, Padawan Cain." A simple black eyepatch lay atop the tray, sturdy but comfortable-looking, made from some kind of flexible material that would conform to the face.
I took it, feeling the weight of it in my hand, surprisingly light, but carrying a symbolic weight that was much heavier. I glanced at Seris once more with both eyes, taking in her concerned expression, the way she watched me with such intensity. Then I slipped the patch on, tying it securely behind my head.
The world snapped back to something resembling normal, though my field of vision was noticeably smaller, and more limited. I exhaled slowly, adjusting to the change.
"Better?" Plo asked.
"A little," I said quietly, turning my head to test the limits of my new vision. "It will take a lot to get used to seeing with one eye. Depth perception is going to be interesting."
The door hissed open a third time, and I looked up to see a tall, hooded figure step into the medbay. The figure was wrapped in dark robes and armor I recognized instantly, the Revan-inspired black mask with its gold accents, the flowing dark cloak that seemed to absorb light, the whole Noctis persona brought to life in physical form. To anyone else who didn't know the truth, it would look like the infamous shadow leader of this new alliance had just walked into the medbay.
The figure reached up with deliberate, measured movements, released the clasps on either side of the mask, and removed the sleek black-and-gray faceplate.
Beneath it was a polished metallic face of shifting silver and black alloy, familiar photoreceptors glowing amber in the medbay's light. "Master Cain," the droid said in a refined, cultured accent that carried just a hint of concern, "I am pleased to have finally located you."
I couldn't help but smirk despite everything. "Same to you, C-3PO. Did the summit go as projected?"
"Yes, Master Cain," C-3PO replied, his mechanical voice carrying satisfaction. "The modified protocol-and-logistics programming you and Master Anakin provided was quite convincing to all attendees who do not know Noctis's true identity. I must say, the performance was rather exhilarating, though I was quite nervous about maintaining the proper gravitas."
Seris stared at the droid, then at me, her expression caught between disbelief and reluctant admiration. "I still can't believe you used C-3PO as a Noctis double."
I shrugged, wincing slightly at the motion. "What can I say? I'm not big on speeches in front of large crowds. I knew after the improvements Anakin and I made, 3PO was the perfect stand-in. Not to mention if I was attacked, my identity would still remain hidden. Plus, his programming allows him to adapt to diplomatic situations in ways I never could, he's literally designed for protocol and negotiation."
C-3PO's photoreceptors brightened slightly, as if pleased by the compliment. "Regarding the summit: it was a measured success. Many senators from the Inner, Mid, and Outer Rim, as well as representatives of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, have expressed a mixture of opinions. Some agreed, tentatively, to join your proposed alliance."
He paused, accessing his memory banks. "Ryloth is on the fence, not entirely trusting of the Jedi given their history, but your speech has given us a chance to convince them of our different approach. Raxus Secundus remains firmly CIS-aligned, but Senator Mina Bonteri was open to peace talks for a possible alliance if we can demonstrate we are fundamentally different from the traditional Jedi Order and Republic. Shili would like to maintain neutrality but is willing to ally on partnership terms that work for both sides, they're particularly interested in our stance on slavery and corporate exploitation."
C-3PO continued his report. "The Miralukans are open to discussions about studying the Force together, but only if the Kel Dor sages of Dorin and the Corellian Jedi are part of the conversation, they wish to ensure multiple perspectives are represented. And speaking of Corellia, their diplomat expressed strong interest in meeting with you, Noctis, and Lady Seris on Corellia in the near future."
I straightened, my attention sharpening despite my exhaustion. "Who was this Corellian diplomat, and did they say why they wanted this meeting?"
"A Sephi woman from House Velor," C-3PO replied. "Her name was Velena Velor. She identified herself as a Corellian Jedi with significant standing in their enclave. And, if I may observe, she bears a striking resemblance to Lady Seris."
I turned to look at Seris, my eye narrowing slightly as I studied her reaction. "Do you happen to know who this Velena is, and what she may want?"
Seris had a nervous look on her face, an expression I had not seen on her often. She was usually so composed, so in control, but now there was genuine anxiety in her eyes. "Yes I do," she said quietly. "She's my mother."
"Your mother?"
Seris nodded, her hands clasping together in her lap. "She probably received word that I was no longer part of the Coruscant Jedi Order. And since I haven't told her about what's going on here, about any of this, she probably came to investigate for herself. I was... hiding from her. But when I felt you and Anakin were hurt through the Force, I rushed here with the Masters who had just returned, along with Bo-Katan, to find and save you both."
"Why wouldn't you tell your family what was going on?" I asked, genuinely confused. "Wouldn't your family be open to supporting you, especially given what we're trying to build here?"
Seris shook her head firmly. "No. She's more likely to bring me back to Corellia and finish my training there, in the traditional Corellian way. My family has... expectations."
I sighed, running a hand through my white hair. "Well, that sounds like something a mom would do. But I'm sure she can be reasoned with. We just need to present our case properly."
Master Fay stepped forward, her ancient voice carrying the weight of experience. "Cain, you must understand, Corellians are a very proud people, even Jedi Corellians. They are fiercely independent and maintain a reclusive stance toward the broader galaxy. The Corellian Jedi operate out of an enclave in Coronet City, and they differ from the traditional Jedi Order in several fundamental ways."
She paused, ensuring I was paying attention. "Their primary allegiance is to their homeworld of Corellia and the broader Corellian system, rather than to the Galactic Republic or the central Jedi High Council on Coruscant. Unlike the traditional Jedi Order, the Corellian Jedi, sometimes called the Green Jedi, allow their members to marry, have families, and own personal property. They generally refuse to leave the Corellian system for Republic missions, focusing their efforts heavily on maintaining local law and order in coordination with Corellian security forces."
"I know this, Master," I said, recalling what I'd learned about them in my previous life. "But...."
"But," Seris interrupted, her voice carrying a note of resignation, "my house, House Velor, is an old, almost noble-like house within the Corellian Jedi sect. They have significant backing and connections throughout the Corellian system. So we shouldn't hope for them joining us easily. At most, we might be able to help train their security forces or share knowledge about combat-focused or mystical arts they wouldn't know about."
"I see." I thought about what I remembered of Corellia from my previous life, how Han Solo and Corran Horn had described it, the fierce independence, the pride. "Man, I forgot how insular Corellia could be. But it doesn't hurt to meet your family, Seris. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to see the planet."
"Okay," I said decisively. "At some point we'll go meet them, and I'll pay my respects to your family. Until then, we need to focus on securing allies and protecting our... well, 'order' seems too generous a term right now. I'll say enclave or praxeum."
"Let's go with Praxeum for now," Master Plo said, "until we have more structure and organization established on the planet. It's a more accurate term for what we're building."
I nodded in agreement. "Right, Master. 3PO, please continue with your report."
"The other planets and systems are... cautious," C-3PO said, his tone suggesting diplomatic understatement. "Several have opted for contractual cooperation rather than full alliances at this time. However, after hearing of your plans for a reformed Jedi Order, a new government structure, strict limitations on corporate enterprises interfering with politics, and your absolute zero-tolerance stance on slavery, they are... quite intrigued. With the assistance of your trusted senatorial allies, I estimate we will be able to formalize the new alliance structure within a reasonable timeframe."
I nodded, feeling a small surge of hope despite my exhaustion. "Good. That's better than I hoped for this early in the process."
C-3PO inclined his head slightly. "Additionally, upon receiving word of Master Skywalker's injury, I contacted Josa on Coruscant, who was already en route. And Geisha, " he paused, using Padmé's code name, " is waiting to visit Master Skywalker. Right now she is at the Lars homestead, speaking with his family."
Seris's eyes narrowed, a flash of something that looked suspiciously like jealousy crossing her features. "Josa again?"
C-3PO continued, oblivious to the tension. "She has been fully briefed on your and Master Skywalker's ailments, and has agreed to travel to Tython to assist with... repairs."
"Repairs?" Seris repeated sharply, her tone carrying an edge.
I scratched my cheek, feeling slightly awkward. "Yeah. I paid her in advance, well, for emergency custom prosthetics if any of us lost a limb. Or if we needed serious gear work done. It was a contingency plan I hoped we'd never need."
Seris huffed, crossing her arms. "I still don't like that Twi'lek girl. She's too loose with her morals for my liking."
I gave Seris a flat look, my expression serious. "Seris, I thought we agreed we're above using people's species or personal choices as insults. Her name is Josa. And she's extremely good at what she does. More importantly, she's a trustworthy ally who's proven herself multiple times."
"She overcharges you," Seris shot back, her tone defensive.
"And her work is worth every credit," I countered firmly. "You'll understand when you see what she does for Anakin. The prosthetics she designs are works of art, functional, durable, and virtually indistinguishable from natural limbs."
Seris blinked, her expression shifting. "So you're getting a new eye?"
I shook my head. "No. If my eye's shifted into a Force-perception thing, I'm not messing with it. That would be foolish. But Anakin needs an arm, and I'll help Josa design it to be perfect for him."
I looked over at the still form in the bed beside mine, at Anakin lying unconscious, his right arm ending in bandages. "When Anakin wakes up, we need to go over everything going forward. But I want to give him time with his family and with Geisha first. He deserves that much."
"Aren't you sweet," a familiar voice croaked from the other bed, rough with exhaustion but carrying unmistakable humor. "But there's no need to wait for me."
Everyone turned. Anakin was sitting up slowly, wincing with obvious pain, but awake and alert. His right sleeve was rolled up and heavily bandaged where his hand used to be, the absence stark and impossible to ignore.
He gave a strained grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "What's this about Padmé?"
Seris rushed to his side immediately, her earlier irritation forgotten. "Anakin, how are you? Are you okay? Should you even be sitting up?"
Anakin smirked, and despite everything, there was genuine humor in his expression. "Well, besides being a few pounds lighter, I'm better than Mr. Ugly over there." He jerked his chin toward me. "I mean, I knew you were having trouble with the ladies before, Cain, but getting scarred up this bad just makes me look better by comparison. You really shouldn't have done me that favor."
I couldn't help but smirk back, grateful for the attempt at normalcy. "Glad you can still make jokes after getting roughed up by a Sith Lord."
My expression darkened as I looked at Anakin's bandaged stump, guilt washing over me in a cold wave. "I'm sorry about the whole 'losing a hand' thing. I shouldn't have gotten you involved in that situation to begin with. This is my fault."
Anakin reached over with his remaining hand and smacked me in the back of the head, not hard, but firm enough to make his point. "Don't be stupid. I knew what I was doing when I jumped in. I saw what you were trying to do and decided to meet you halfway. We're brothers, Cain. So don't worry, next time we'll pay the Count back twofold."
Smack. Smack.
Seris's hands came across on both our faces simultaneously, her expression fierce.
"You're both idiots," she snapped, her voice sharp with frustration and lingering fear. "Stop trying to be 'The Oh Great Chosen One' and 'Mr. Champion of the Force' and actually ask for help next time. You both can't do everything by yourselves. You have friends and an alliance for a reason. I swear, one day this recklessness will get you both killed."
A new voice came from the medbay entrance, calm and measured. "She's right, you know."
We all turned to see Obi-Wan standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, his expression a complex mixture of exasperation, relief, and something that looked like paternal concern.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, stepping closer to the bed, "I don't know why you did what you did... but I am very glad you're alive."
"Master, I...." Anakin began, but Obi-Wan held up a hand.
"But you made a grave mistake," Obi-Wan continued, his voice hardening slightly. "How was I supposed to explain this to your mother? She just got you back after years of separation. Am I meant to tell her that her son died because he was reckless? That everything she, Qui-Gon, and I went through to free you from slavery meant nothing?"
Anakin's smile faded completely, his head bowing under the weight of those words. "You're right, Master. I'm... sorry. I didn't think about how it would affect everyone else."
Obi-Wan's shoulders eased, and a small, genuine smile tugged at his lips. "I'm just happy you're alive, Anakin. Just try your best to stay that way. The galaxy needs you, and so do the people who care about you."
"Yes, Master," Anakin said quietly. "I will do that."
Obi-Wan's expression brightened slightly. "Plus, there's someone here to meet you."
Through the doorway walked a figure in an elegant disguise, Geisha, her mask still in place. But the moment Anakin saw her, his face lit up with an expression of pure joy that transformed his features completely. She reached up and removed her mask, revealing Padmé Amidala's beautiful face, her brown eyes shining with relief and concern.
I stood up slowly with Seris's help, feeling every injury protest the movement. "Let's give these two some privacy," I said quietly to the others. "They haven't seen each other in a while, and they deserve this moment."
Everyone filed out of the medbay, leaving Anakin and Padmé alone.
The door hissed shut, and suddenly the medbay felt much smaller, more intimate. Padmé stood frozen for a moment, just looking at Anakin—taking in the bandages, the exhaustion in his eyes, the way he held his right arm close to his body, protecting the injury.
"Anakin," she breathed, and then she was moving, crossing the distance between them in quick steps. She stopped just short of the bed, her hands hovering uncertainly, as if afraid touching him might cause more pain.
"I'm okay, Padmé," Anakin said softly, reading her hesitation. "I promise. It looks worse than it is."
"You lost your hand," she said, her voice breaking slightly on the last word. "3PO told me what happened, but seeing you like this..." She trailed off, blinking rapidly against tears that threatened to fall.
Anakin reached out with his left hand, taking one of hers and pulling her gently closer. "Hey, look at me." He waited until her eyes met his. "I'm alive. Cain's alive. That's what matters. Everything else we can deal with."
Padmé sat carefully on the edge of the bed, her fingers intertwining with his. "When I heard you were hurt, I couldn't breathe. I was in the middle of the conclave I just knew something was wrong. I felt it, Ani. Through whatever connection we have, I felt your pain."
"I'm sorry," Anakin said, squeezing her hand. "I didn't mean to worry you after so long. But I couldn't let Cain face Dooku alone. He's my brother, Padmé. I had to help him."
"I know," she said, reaching up with her free hand to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "I know you did. That's who you are, you protect the people you love, no matter the cost. It's one of the things I..." She paused, the unspoken words hanging between them.
"One of the things you what?" Anakin prompted gently, his blue eyes searching her face.
Padmé smiled, soft and genuine. "Tell about everything that has happened to you "
The words settled between them like a benediction, like a promise. Anakin's breath caught, and for a moment he just stared at her, wonder and joy and something deeper written across his features.
"Were should I start?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
" Cain told me how you felt about me and told all about what you were doing in the galaxy as a Jedi" Padmé confirmed, her thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of his hand. " I want to hear your side of everything, your adventures and your feelings. With everything happening, with the possible war coming, I don't want to lose anymore time..."
"Well now I'm stuck by the old Jedi rules anymore" Anakin said fiercely. " So we can forget the complications. I love you too, Padmé. I've loved you since the moment I saw when I was just a kid on Tatooine dreaming about angels."
She laughed, the sound watery but genuine. " You love me? And I'm no angel, Ani."
"You are to me," he insisted. He lifted his bandaged right arm slightly, looking at it with an expression that was equal parts resignation and determination. "This doesn't change anything. I'm still me. I'm still the same person who loves you."
"I know," Padmé said, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his. "And I'll be here while you heal. While you adjust. While you figure out what comes next. I'm not going anywhere. Please let me think on these feelings you shared with me."
Anakin nodded. "Of course. Take your time."
They sat like that for a long moment, breathing together, finding comfort in each other's presence. The medbay's sterile environment faded away, and there was only the two of them, connected by something deeper than words.
"What happens now?" Padmé asked eventually, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "With everything Cain's building here, with the alliance, with the war that's coming?"
Anakin considered the question carefully. "Now we fight for something better. Not for the Republic that's rotting from within, not for a Jedi Order that's lost its way. We fight for the people who can't fight for themselves. We build something new, something that actually works."
Padme smile. " I'm glad we are working together to create some change. But know this Anakin, I'm still gonna save the Republic from the inside. But I will support you and your friends in doing what the Republic couldn't. Now tell about everything that happened to you."
Anakin nodded.
They stayed together talking and catching up with each other about what happened over the past few years.
A few hours later, in one of the half-repaired conference rooms of the Tython Temple, many had gathered for what would prove to be a crucial strategic meeting.
I stood at the circular stone table, an eyepatch now covering my left eye, robes thrown loosely over my bandaged torso. Every movement still hurt, but I pushed through it, knowing this meeting was too important to delay. Anakin sat beside me, looking exhausted but determined, his bandaged right arm resting carefully in his lap. Seris and Barriss stood opposite us, their expressions serious and focused.
Around the table sat Obi-Wan, Master Plo Koon, Master Fay, Shaak Ti, and a handful of other Masters and Knights whose names I was still learning. Bo-Katan leaned against the wall near the door, her armor gleaming in the dim light, arms crossed as she observed everything with a warrior's tactical assessment.
Holoprojections of star charts flickered faintly in the background, casting blue light across the ancient stone walls. The temple itself was still half-cracked and scaffolded, a work in progress that reflected our entire endeavor, ambitious, incomplete, but full of potential.
Master Plo was the first to speak, his masked face turning to address the assembly. "There are several matters to address, but I will begin with one that may prove most significant: the Bendu."
My brow lifted with interest. "Were you able to speak to him, Master?"
"Yes," Plo said, his tone carrying a note of awe that was rare for him. "He is... something I have never encountered before in all my years. I think he even surpasses Master Yoda in raw Force power and understanding. After spending some time on Atollon, he made himself present to Master Fay and me."
He paused, letting that sink in. "To put it simply: he is willing to come to Tython. However, whether he will join the new Order's council is another story entirely. He has one condition before he gives an answer."
Plo looked directly at me, and I felt the weight of his gaze even through his mask. "He wants to meet you first."
I swallowed hard, feeling suddenly exposed. "He wants to meet me first."
Plo nodded. "He did not say why. Only that he must weigh you with his own senses before he chooses to involve himself in what we're building here."
I leaned back slightly, my thoughts flashing briefly to the massive, shifting being from the show I remembered, the one in the middle, the storm between light and dark. There wasn't much lore on the Bendu in my previous life. He might have extreme insight into the Force. Hell, he might even know I'm from another world. There's no telling with these ancient Force beings.
It figures he'd want to size up the new anomaly personally.
Bo-Katan stepped forward, her boots clicking against the stone floor. "Speaking of people who want to meet you... some of the senators are asking about the man behind the mask of Noctis. Some won't fully trust you until they know who you truly are."
I sighed, having expected this. "That's not surprising, but I'll make do. I'll let my achievements do the talking for now. Actions speak louder than identities."
"And," Bo continued, her expression darkening, "on the Mandalorian front... my Death Watch contacts still loyal to Pre Vizsla say he's moving more aggressively. He'll likely try to pick a side early, undermine this new alliance of yours, and find out everything he can about you. I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to align with Dooku."
I felt a chill run down my spine. Dooku and Pre working together would be a nightmare. But at the same time, now that Dooku would report back to Palpatine about me knowing what I knew, Sidious would come after me harder. He'd probably connect me with his secret entrance to the Jedi Temple being discovered.
"What do you mean, 'pick a side early'?" I asked. "You think he'll move against us directly?"
"It's always a possibility with him," Bo said flatly. "He's impatient and ambitious. When Vizsla wants something, he takes swings until he gets it. There are... rumors going around Mandalore about you."
My gaze sharpened. "What kind of rumors?"
"That he wants to claim you as a lost son of his house," Bo said, her tone carrying disgust. "You're a blood member of House Vizsla, whether you like it or not. Since you're also a powerful Force-sensitive, he wants to tie you to himself. Adopt you and sponsor you as a sorta political puppet. Then when you rise, he rises with you." She grimaced. "Some idiots are already calling you the next incarnation of Tarre Vizsla. They believe he can convince you not to seek vengeance for your mother, or take it after he grooms you for success. But first have you usurp Satine."
I stared at the table in silence, processing this information. Vengeance. I didn't want it for a mother I never knew. But killing Pre might be a necessary action. I knew that in order for the new way of Mandalore to thrive, the old parts that held it back needed to die. And Pre was one of those parts.
"I want to change Mandalore," I said quietly, "but not through blood and betrayal. I want to unite it in a way like never before, to create warriors of honor and greatness, not blood-hungry mercenaries for hire." I looked up, meeting Bo's eyes. "I'm not the reincarnated Tarre Vizsla. That's exactly the kind of messianic nonsense I don't need. Satine is still needed to help the people of Mandalore transition. But I need the help of the other clans and houses to make real change possible."
"We'll have to deal with him when he makes his move," Bo said. "But for now, we watch, train, and prepare. And I'll keep feeding you intelligence from my contacts."
Master Fay folded her hands, her ancient face serene. "On another matter, you sent messages across the Outer Rim seeking settlers for Tython, Cain. Representatives from Ryloth have responded."
My attention snapped back up, excitement cutting through my exhaustion. "What did they say?"
"They will speak to you," Fay said. "A Twi'lek settlement leader wishes to discuss relocating some of his people here, to Tython. He is in an adjoining chamber right now, waiting for you."
A spark of hope lit in my chest. Cham Syndulla. I could already see the roles they'd play, logistics, resistance training, organizing refugees and merchants, building a real community.
"Thank you, Master," I said. "I'll speak with them once we're done here."
Obi-Wan cleared his throat, drawing attention. "There's another concern. You said earlier that Darth Sidious is in the Senate. That he knows about all of this."
I nodded grimly. "He does. I told Masters Yoda and Windu about Dooku and the clone army. But Sidious?" I exhaled slowly. "Sidious knows we're moving. Tython, the alliance, the new Order. We have to assume he's already making countermoves. And Dooku will report back that I know much of his plan, so be prepared for him to make a move on Kamino soon."
"Easier said than done," Obi-Wan said, frustration evident in his voice. "Why are you still keeping Sidious's name a secret from us? We have more people now, yes, but most of them are Padawans and AgriCorps transfers. Many lack advanced combat training, while others are rusty from years of agricultural work. We're still repairing the temple, mapping the planet, and cataloging the wildlife. Our defenses are thin or nonexistent."
"That's exactly why, Obi-Wan," I said firmly. "Sidious will send mercenaries, Sith cultists, assassins, and who knows what else. The reason I'm not telling anyone yet is because I know the moment his secret gets out, Sidious would burn everything we're building and kill us all." I leaned forward, my voice intense. "At least for now, I'm keeping the target on me. And I asked Masters Yoda and Windu not to make a move until I can give them proof that the clone army exists and prove I have some control over the production rate."
Obi-Wan blinked. "Why take that risk yourself?"
"Because we're forced to grow," I said. "We don't get to sit in a polished tower and pretend we're above the galaxy anymore. Everyone pulls their weight here. All of us."
I looked around the table, meeting each person's eyes. "We're going to do a lot in the coming months. Re-teach the younglings. Retrain the Padawans. Reinforce the AgriCorps members until they can stand on their own again, not just as fighters, but as healers, researchers, builders, mediators. We're not a training camp. If we're going to end slavery and dismantle the high-crime organizations, we need to do more than go in with lightsabers and kill or lock up the bad guys. We need to help people rebuild their societies and teach them how to stand on their own two feet. We must be a presence in every sector of the galaxy. Not as soldiers or conquerors, but as the wandering knights of old and Jedi Wardens. We must also secure this planet and temple properly."
"Our main concern," I continued, "is helping the people around us. Self-defense is a given. But if we don't get out there, to different planets and systems, into the villages, the settlements, the trade routes, then we're just replicating everything the old Order did wrong."
I took a breath, feeling the weight of what I was proposing. "We also need more members. Carefully chosen ones. And we need to move on the Kamino situation. Stop production of the Jango Fett clones and begin work on the hybrid template instead, along with the gene modifications for both the clones and several Order members. That means negotiating with the Kaminoans after a basic hostile takeover. We also need to lock down funding, and..."
I glanced at Seris with a small grin. "And I think our little excursion to the Krayt Graveyard just gave us the start of our war chest."
Plo nodded approvingly. "The pearls and bones you brought back have begun to fetch a significant sum on the black market and through legitimate channels. Enough to fund our operations for several months at least."
I turned to Seris. "We'll have to visit Corellia soon and meet your family. Talking is all we can do for now, so we'll make the best of it."
Seris's expression tightened, anxiety flickering across her features. "True. But... there's a problem."
The room's attention shifted to her. Master Fay spoke gently. "I believe what Padawan Seris is trying to say is that her family situation on Corellia is... complicated."
I frowned. "How complicated?"
Fay inclined her head. "I am her relative. Her great-aunt, to be precise. The Corellian Jedi will likely see you as a sect breaking off from the Order, and will look at us as a possible danger waiting to happen until proven otherwise. But there is still a chance for a good alliance to form if we approach this correctly."
My eye widened. "You're related to Seris?"
"Yes," Fay said serenely. "My sister is the current matriarch of House Velor, but Seris's mother handles much of the day-to-day workings of the family and their Jedi sect. Seris was intended to be part of the Corellian Order, but one day my sister told me she had a vision in the Force, and that's why she changed her mind and sent Seris to Coruscant instead."
"Did your sister say why?" I asked.
Fay shook her head. "She said only that the Force showed her Seris's path led elsewhere. That her destiny was tied to something larger than Corellia alone."
I blinked twice. "Anything else I should know?"
Seris stared at the table, her long ears twitching in embarrassment. "My father will want to meet you one-on-one when you come to the planet. He didn't say why, but knowing him, it's probably to assess whether you're worthy of... of working with his daughter."
I rubbed my forehead, a smile tugging at my lips despite everything. "So I need your dad's permission to protect you. How classic."
Seris's eyes widened, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "That's not....I didn't mean...."
I felt my own cheeks heat slightly, realizing how that had sounded. "All right. Just tell me when we're going, and I'll be there. I'll face your father's judgment."
Seris gave me a small, genuine smile that made my heart do something complicated. "Thank you, Cain."
I exhaled, then turned to Plo. "Master... I need to push my training further. Deeper than before. I can't face someone like Dooku again and be that outmatched. My Djem So, Ataru, Makashi, and Jar'Kai need to be reinforced and refined. I would also like to learn Form VI: Niman properly, and Electric Judgment, an also improve my Tutaminis significantly."
Plo placed a hand on my shoulder, his presence in the Force steady and grounding. "I understand your frustration, my Padawan. But power sought for its own sake, or out of fear of loss, leads nowhere good. You have learned much from this loss, and I will help you grow regardless."
"I'm not seeking it just to be strong," I said quietly, meeting his masked gaze. "I'm seeking it so I don't have to watch the people I care about lose limbs or their lives while I stand there, too weak to stop it. That's the only reason. To protect what I love."
Plo studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Well said, my Padawan. When your body has healed, we will resume your training with intent and clarity. I will push you harder than ever before, but I will also ensure you maintain your calm center."
I nodded back, grateful. "Thank you, Master."
I took a breath, steeling myself for what came next. "There's one more thing. Two, actually. It's time to properly bring the Dathomirian witches into this. Both the Singing Mountain Clan and the others. And..."
I hesitated, knowing this would cause a reaction.
Anakin's eyes narrowed. "And?"
I exhaled slowly. "And I've been keeping something from you. From all of you. The Sith that killed Master Qui-Gon Jinn, he's alive."
The room went very still. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees.
Anakin grabbed me by the front of my tunic with his left hand, his grip surprisingly strong. "Are you telling me that Sith Lord is alive? And you've known this entire time?"
I winced. "Yes. And..."
Anakin slammed his forehead into mine with a solid thunk. Both of us staggered back, clutching our heads and groaning.
"Force, Anakin, use your words," I groaned, seeing stars.
"Stop hiding things from us then!" Anakin snapped, his voice rising. "How many times do we have to tell you? Secrets like that get people killed!"
"I wasn't hiding it to betray you," I said, rubbing my forehead where a new bruise was definitely forming. "If I'd told you sooner, you would've run off to finish what you thought Obi-Wan didn't finish. You would've gotten yourself killed."
Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed, confusion evident. "What do you mean, 'what I didn't finish'?"
I blinked, realizing my mistake. "You... didn't defeat Maul?"
Obi-Wan shook his head slowly. "I fought him, yes. We dueled after he struck down Qui-Gon. But in the end, Master Qui-Gon seized Maul with his final strength. They died together, or so we all thought. In his final breath, Qui-Gon told me to train Anakin."
My eye widened. That's different. That's very different from what I remember. Qui-Gon taking Maul with him, Dooku being physically stronger than his movie counterpart, a woman named Selene being my mother and Bo-katan's teacher. This timeline was shifting more than I'd thought. The butterfly effect is real, and I'm the butterfly.
Anakin's voice broke through my thoughts. "What else are you hiding, Cain? What else aren't you telling us?"
I glanced briefly at Plo and Fay, the only ones who knew what I truly was, where I really came from. I swallowed that truth back down, knowing this wasn't the time.
"Anakin," I said softly, "you're my brother. I'm not hiding anything to hurt you. This Sith Lord, Maul, is a piece of a larger puzzle. A big one. Proof of what the Sith are doing, proof of Sidious's plans. If we handle him right, he's evidence and leverage we can use."
"And you think he'll help?" Anakin demanded. "How do you even know he's alive?"
"My Force visions," I said. "And my ability to see Force auras and connections across vast distances. He's out there, and he's one of many paths we need to explore."
Anakin eyed me, then huffed in frustration. "If you hold back on something like this again, I'm not just headbutting you. I'll get more creative with my punishments."
He extended his left hand to help me up from where I'd half-collapsed against the table. I smirked and took it, letting Anakin haul me back upright. "Noted. I'll try to be more forthcoming."
I looked around the table, meeting each person's gaze. "We need the Dathomirian witches. We need Maul. We need the Mandalorians united under a new banner. And we need the Kaminoans to stop churning out Jango Fett clones and start working with us on the hybrid template. We need more credits, more training, more time."
I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of everything we were trying to accomplish.
"But first things first," I said. "We finish building our base here. We secure our defenses and make this place livable for the people coming to us. The Twi'lek settlers are part of that solution. We start here, on Tython. Then we move outward, one step at a time, one planet at a time. We build something that lasts."
The assembled Masters and Knights nodded, understanding the scope of what lay ahead. It was ambitious, perhaps impossibly so. But looking around the table at these people, at Anakin, at Seris, at the Masters who had chosen to follow this new path, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time.
Hope.
Far from Tython, in the cold void of space, Count Dooku's personal ship cut through hyperspace like a blade through silk. The vessel was sleek and elegant, reflecting its owner's refined tastes, dark metals and clean lines, with holographic displays casting blue light across the interior.
Dooku stood in his private chamber, the room dimly lit and austere. His dark robes hung perfectly despite the recent battle, though careful observation would reveal faint tiredness, and scorch. He touched his face briefly, feeling the slight tenderness where, Cain's vicious and Anakins overwhelming strikes had come closer than he cared to admit.
The boy has potential, Dooku thought. Raw, undisciplined, but undeniable.
Before him, a holographic transmission flickered to life. The image was intentionally obscured, showing only a silhouette shrouded in darkness, as Darth Sidious stood before him
"Lord Tyranus," the figure said, his voice smooth and cultured, carrying the weight of absolute authority. "I trust your mission to Tython proved... enlightening."
Dooku bowed his head respectfully. "Indeed, my Master. I encountered the two skilled Padawans, Skywalker and Cain, they isolated me from the enclave, where we engaged in a lightsaber duel. they are remarkably talented for their age. Their synchronization in combat was impressive, and their connection to the Force unusually strong."
"And?" The silhouette leaned forward slightly, interest evident despite the obscured features.
"I wounded the one called Cain severely," Dooku reported. "Multiple lacerations, Force lightning burns, and damage to his left eye. The other, Skywalker, lost his right hand. Both survived only due to Master Plo Koon's intervention and the arrival of Jedi reinforcements, along with Mandalorian allies."
"Mandalorian allies," the figure repeated, a note of intrigue in his voice. "Interesting. Continue."
"The boy, Cain, knows far more than he should," Dooku said carefully. "He spoke of things no should know. He knows of the clone army, your identity as Sidious, as for your true Identity I would say probably not. He even knew details about my past that few are privy to. This Noctis is very informed"
There was a long pause. When the Sidious spoke again, his tone had shifted, becoming more calculating. "Excellent work, my dear Dooku. You have done well to educate them in the realities of our galaxy. Pain is often the greatest teacher."
"Thank you, my Master."
"This Cain is dangerous, which makes his ally Noctis even more so." Sidious continued, his voice taking on a contemplative quality. " His knowledge suggests this Noctis might be a rival or either remarkable Force visions or something else entirely. But danger can be useful, Tyranus. A sharp blade, properly wielded, cuts deeper than a dull one especially once pointed in the right direction."
"You wish to still turn him?" Dooku asked, surprised.
"Perhaps," Sidious said. "Or perhaps simply to understand him. Knowledge is power, and this boy clearly possesses knowledge that could prove valuable. He is a possible tool, if we can influence him properly. His disillusionment with the Jedi Order is evident, that much you confirmed. Such disillusionment can be... cultivated. If done correctly he will be the one needed to destroy the Jedi for us."
Dooku nodded slowly, seeing the logic. "What would you have me do?"
"I want you to find a way to contact Death Watch," Sidious commanded. "Make contact. Assess their strength and their ambitions. I want to know why this Cain has Mandalorians fighting for him. What alliance has he forged? What leverage does he possess?"
"I will investigate immediately," Dooku confirmed. "Death is ambitious and Mandalorians are easily manipulated. They will welcome an alliance with us if it serves his goals."
"Good," Sidious said. "The Mandalorians could prove useful in the coming conflict. Their warrior culture and their hatred of the Jedi make them natural allies. And if this Cain has indeed united some of their clans, we must understand how and why."
Dooku hesitated, then spoke. "There is something else, my Master. During the duel, the boy spoke of the Jed'aii and the Baran Do Sages. He claimed he would be better than the Jedi, that he would follow the old ways."
"The Jed'aii," Sidious mused. "How fascinating. The ancient order that predated the modern Jedi, that embraced both light and dark in balance. If he truly understands those teachings, he is more dangerous than I thought, but these Jedi are not capable of using the dark side without falling to it, which makes them more useful."
"Should I eliminate him when the opportunity arises?" Dooku asked.
"No," Sidious said firmly. "Not just yet. Let him build his little alliance. Let him gather his followers and his resources. We will watch, we will learn, and when the time is right, we will strike. Or we will turn him to our purposes. Either outcome serves us."
Dooku bowed his head in acknowledgment. "As you command, my Master."
"There is one more matter," Sidious said, his tone shifting again. "I have felt something through the Force. A presence on Rattatak, raw, powerful, unaligned. Possibly an apprentice, or at least a useful tool."
"Rattatak?" Dooku's interest was piqued. The planet was known for its gladiatorial arenas and brutal culture.
"Yes," Sidious confirmed. "A warrior, I believe. Someone who has survived through strength and cunning. Someone who could be molded, shaped into a weapon. But first, secure the Mandalorian alliance. Determine the scope of their involvement with this new Jedi faction. Then, and only then, investigate Rattatak."
"I understand, my Master," Dooku said. "I will not fail you."
"See that you don't," Sidious said, his voice carrying a subtle threat beneath the cultured tones. "The pieces are moving into position, Tyranus. This Cain, this new Order, the Mandalorians, all of them will serve our purposes, whether they know it or not."
The transmission flickered and died, leaving Dooku alone in the darkness of his chamber.
He stood in silence for a long moment, contemplating everything that had transpired. His hand moved unconsciously to his lightsaber hilt, remembering the duel, the way Cain's eyes had burned with determination even as he fell.
The boy spoke of two lifetimes, Dooku thought. What did he mean by that? A metaphor, or something more literal?
He shook off the thought, turning his attention to the task at hand. Death Watch would be easy enough to find, they were not subtle in their operations. And once he had secured that alliance, he would turn his attention to Rattatak and this mysterious warrior Sidious had sensed.