I couldn’t help but smile as I walked into Oyu'baat Cantina on Mandalore. Around me, various warriors were enjoying meals and drinks with their fellow warriors. It was a lovely warm and sunny day, and the cantina’s owner – whose family had run the millennia-old place since at least the Ruusan Reformation – had seemingly left the main doors open to allow the breeze to carry in. And so that the smell of food and drink at the planet’s oldest cantina could carry outwards and ideally draw in new customers.

  The open door caused my cape to bellow in the wind, and the shadows that cast drew the attention of many near the doors. Most offered me a nod, or in the case of faces I remembered from Naboo, a raised mug of salute. I returned those with nods and moved through the cantina, heading towards the stairs that led up to the private rooms. My helmet was under my arm and my hair, which had grown a little beyond my shoulders over the last few months, was secured with a simple band while at my hips, my beskad and lightsaber rested comfortably.

  The presence of the Jedi weapon drew a few extra glances, but nothing else. That said, I could see a few tables whispering as I moved, no doubt surprised to see me enter the cantina and so prominently display the weapon, and with it suggest that I still held a connection to the Jedi. I might have left the Order, and given them a lightsaber that while built by my hands, and with a crystal aligned to me within wasn’t my true blade, but the weapon was as much a part of me as the armour Mando’ade, here and elsewhere in the sector and wider galaxy, wore. If any wished for me to remove it, they could attempt to do so and I would happily explain why that was a bad idea. Hopefully without needlessly killing them in the process.

  As I climbed the stairs, I noticed a few familiar faces. Or more accurately, the armour of those aligned with Houses Kryze and Ordo. Each warrior I met I offered a nod, respecting the warriors of my allies. As they were on duty, none returned the gesture. Through the Battlenet they shared, my presence here was expected, and none were prepared to challenge the leaders of their Houses. As such, I walked past the warriors and made my way upward, none physically reacting to my presence.

  Reaching the fourth, and thus top floor of the cantina, I smiled as I saw several familiar faces. “Oya, Alor Baston,” I greeted the first: Baston Tyri. The dark-skinned man was the head of Clan Tyri and the senior commander of House Ordo’s military forces. “It has been some time.”

  “That it has, Alor Cameron,” He replied as we clasped forearms. “I have not seen you since the celebration on Naboo.”

  I smiled, remembering the celebration well. “Aye. How are your ade and bu’ade?” I asked as we broke the clasp, making sure to use the Mando’a for children and grandchildren.

  Baston laughed deeply. “They are well, though I swear Byrn will kill her husband if he seeks another ade. Four is her limit, though she loves them dearly.” I knew that Bryn was married to Osto Ordo, but the last I’d heard the pair only had two children, a boy, and a girl. The new pair was a surprise, but given how highly Mando’ade valued children, be they born to them or adopted, it was hardly a surprise that such a prominent couple would seek to have many.

  “That would be a great loss. Not just to Clans Ordo and Tyri, but to all Mando’ade,” I commented. “Particularly with what I wish to discuss with Alore Torrhen and Adonai.”

  Baston’s brow shifted. “I am curious as to why you would seek a meeting with both, and choose the Oyu'baat to do so. However, it is not my place to question. At least not unless Torrhen wishes to inform me of the meeting after it is completed.”

  “Oh, I suspect he will be happy to tell you and others, Baston,” I remarked with a chuckle, knowing full well that what I wanted to lay the groundwork for today had the potential to alter the fate of our people. “When next you seek your ade and Osto, tell them I hope we might fight alongside each other again in battles to come, and look forward to the day my ade and your bu’ade might share that honour.”

  “Yes, I remember meeting your son at the celebration,” Baston looked beyond me as if trying to see where Anakin was though he would already know via the Battlenet of House Ordo that my son wasn’t present. “That you have adopted an ad is something that many young female warriors reacted with interest to, and I had hoped to meet him again and see how his training is progressing.”

  “Depending on how this meeting goes, I suspect you will do so before the day is out. He, along with Fenrir, is with Bo-Katan Kryze and Naz Vizsla elsewhere in Keldabe. Hopefully avoiding getting into too much trouble,” I added with a chuckle. One that Baston copied, though the man behind him who had walked over could only offer a smile. “Alor Pre,” I said, turning to Pre Vizsla and offering my arm, “how is being mayor of Sundari treating you?”

  Pre grunted. “About as well as one would expect with a city still containing so many neverd,” he responded as we clasped arms. His grasp was tighter than Baston’s. Not because he was stronger but, I felt, because he was challenging me in some way. Naz hadn’t borne me a child, nor had she lost that desire when we’d spoken earlier today, so I was at a loss as to what was causing Pre’s apparent animosity. Curious about the issue, and wanting an idea of the danger presented by a future adversary, I used Observe on the secret leader of whatever remained of the Death Watch.

  Pre Vizsla

  Race: Human

  Level: 30

  Health: 100%

  Age: 49

  Force Potential: Low

  Threat Potential: Intermediate

  Reputation: Hated

  Affiliation Loyalty: Clan Vizsla (95%), Death Watch (92%)

  Emotional State: Irritated/Angered/Concerned

  Pre is annoyed at your return to Mandalore, not least because of the influence you have over his daughter.

  He would prefer if you had never become Mando’ade and longs for the day when he can kill you.

  However, the fact you have called for the meeting with Alore Torrhen and Adonai makes him anxious.

  …

  “Still, at least most have abandoned the di'kutla ideas placed in their heads but the Tsad Droten,” he finished as the information from Observe came up.

  “Almost getting killed by dar’manda like the Kyr'tsad often shows people the flaws in believing peace without strength leads to anything but a wasted life and an early grave,” I remarked, not missing the chance to needle the man about his hidden allegiance. That said, it was interesting that his loyalty to his Clan, and by extension his family, was higher than that for the Death Watch. Perhaps there was a chance that his quest could be completed without me having to kill him, and thus risking what I shared with Naz and the weak friendship I had with her brother, Tor. However, with my standing with him being so bad, that chance was unlikely to be a large one, and if I was forced to choose between killing Pre and removing a threat or keeping Naz happy, my choice was an easy one to make.

  “Yes. That is true,” Pre replied, breaking the arm clasp. I knew my comment would’ve annoyed him, but there was nothing he could do about it. Once I had spoken with Adonai and Torrhen, and he learnt of my intentions, that annoyance would turn into full-blown anger. I was looking forward to that, and whatever attempt he made to remove me. However, if he went after Anakin, Bo, or anyone else I cared for, then he would be first to experience what it meant to face one no longer constrained by the corrupt ideals of the Jedi.

  I gave both men a nod and then moved forward, towards the door behind them. The floor, like the stairs I had climbed to reach here, was only guarded by those bearing the marks of Houses Kryze and Ordo, meaning there would be no others elsewhere who might overhear anything that was to be discussed. Still, to be certain of that, as I pushed the door to the room where I knew the two Mando’ade leaders were waiting for me, I had my armour scan for and block if necessary, any monitoring devices that might be present. The warriors of each House would’ve already done so, but with Pre among their ranks, I couldn’t be certain something hadn’t slipped through, though even if Pre weren’t loyal to himself and Death Watch, I’d still have checked the room for devices.

  Adonai and Torrhen were talking animatedly as I stepped inside, mugs in their hands. There was no hint of animosity between them even if the conversation sounded rather boisterous. Taking a moment, I used Observe on the pair to see where I stood with them.

  Adonai Kryze

  Race: Human

  Level: 36

  Health: 95% (artificial lower leg)

  Age: 56

  Force Potential: Minimal

  Threat Potential: Intermediate

  Reputation: Liked Friend

  Affiliation Loyalty: Clan Kryze (100%) Mando’ade (95%)

  Emotional State: Amused/Curious

  Adoni is enjoying the old war story that his friend Torrhen Ordo is telling him.

  Even so, he is wondering why you have called this meeting and hopes you have made the choice he wishes for you. One his daughter would greatly approve of.

  ...

  Torrhen Ordo

  Race: Human

  Level: 34

  Health: 100%

  Age: 54

  Force Potential: Minimal

  Threat Potential: Intermediate

  Reputation: Liked Friend

  Affiliation Loyalty: Clan Ordo (100%) Mando’ade (92%)

  Emotional State: Amused/Curious

  Torrhen is enjoying the story he is sharing with Adonai Kryze.

  That said, he ponders as to why you have called him and Adoni to a meeting, particularly in this cantina.

  He hopes that perhaps you are ready to speak about what was on the datapad left by his ancestor, Canderous Ordo.

  However, for that, the Mand'alor needs to return and lead the people, or a new one rises to claim the title.

  ...

  That both considered me a friend and were loyal to their clans and our people was useful. Add in that both wondered why I had called this meeting, and the reference in what was revealed about Torrhen to the datapad found in the Vault on planet Ordo, and my hopes for this meeting rose as the door closed behind me. Still, I wouldn’t allow my excitement and hope to grow out of control. I had to convince the pair that my goals aligned with theirs, or could supplant theirs without costing them honour first. Even then, today was just the first step on the path I was choosing to take.

  “I hope I have not kept you waiting,” I said, drawing them from their drinks and whatever they were discussing.

  “No, no,” Torrhen answered for the pair as they stood, "we were simply discussing our future bu’ad,” I frowned, confused by the comment.

  “Drogo has remarried,” Adonai explained as he moved around the table the pair had been sitting as I clasped forearms with Torrhen. “Choosing to bond with Alys Ordo.”

  “Ah, then my congratulations to you both on forging unity between your Clans,” I commented, drawing wide smiles from the two men.

  “Yes, it is a joyous occasion,” Torrhen added as we broke our clasp, and I turned to Torrhen to do so with him. “Another bu’ad is always something to marvel at, though I do wish Asta was less… insistent with ideas it placed in her head.”

  I chuckled, having a good idea of what he was hinting at. “Perhaps suggest a kir'manir?” That was the Mando’a term for adopting a child into your family, and what I had done with Anakin.

  “I have said as much, but she is quite committed to her way,” Torrhen responded as I broke the clasp with Adonai.

  “Marriages and births,” I said as I looked at the two older Clan leaders, and heads of two of the three Mando’ade Houses. That being groups of clans that followed the word of one Alor. “What else have I missed?”

  “Not much,” Adonai replied as he gestured to the table, and we moved to sit. “The sector had been quiet since your call to arms for Naboo. A battle that a great many warriors talk of proudly.”

  “To many the chance to fight for a cause, one worthy of honour, that meant no longer battling against fellow Mando’ade or working as bounty hunters across the galaxy was a welcome change. That it was a moment when we could remind the galaxy of the might of our people, only heightens its significance for many warriors.”

  “I’m sure the Lucrehulk that rests in orbit over the planet helps in that regard.” That vessel, formerly known as the Saak’ak, served as the only stationary defence above Mandalore. At least beyond the myriad of other vessels of almost every shape and size, including the Ne’tra Tal’ade, that orbited the planet. I had no idea if the Lucrehulk was still capable of hyperspace, but the changes the Mando’ade had brought to the vessel, or at least those Raven’s scanners had detected as we passed it earlier today, made clear Adonai and Torrhen had worked to upgrade the massive transport into a true battleship. One far superior even to the upgrades the vessel had gotten from the Trade Federation before the Battle of Naboo.

  “It does, though the calls of others for us to return our prize, or disarm it, continue. Thankfully, those voices are growing ever quieter with each passing day as are our blunt denials of Tsad Droten's other demands.” I laughed openly at Adonai speaking so coarsely against the Republic, and those inside it who wished the Mandalorians to stand down. Seeing the change that he had undergone after the last civil war, and the deaths the insane ideas of the so-called New Mandalorians had brought to this world was a relief. One that made my reasons for calling this meeting more potent. “Speaking of marriages and births, how are things between you and my daughter?”

  I smirked, giving myself a few moments to consider my response. “We are well, and from my short moment to catch up with her and Naz Vizsla before coming here, I believe she still intends on granting you another bu’ad.” That the man was so comfortable with not just me courting and fucking his daughter, but getting her pregnant outside of marriage was unexpected but gratifying.

  Marriage was something I didn’t feel ready for, at least not yet. Particularly with how I had left things with Serra. However, to most Mando’ade, marriage was a sacred bond, and couples were expected to be married if they had children, or at least those of their blood. It wasn’t, however, a requirement and Adonai understood and accepted that Bo wasn’t a traditional Mando’ade in that regard. However, if she did end up pregnant with my child, I would raise my child as I should. Married or not to the mother. That went for any female I spent time with, though only Bo and Naz wished for children.

  “I shall alert the guards to ignore calls of violence from your quarters while you are in Keldabe.” I blinked at the comment, which made both men laugh. “I love her, but Bo-Katan has always been vocal in expressing herself. Particularly when you are involved.”

  “Ah.” I really didn’t know how to reply to that. I remembered Simvyl commenting the last time I’d visited Mandalore about the noise Bo and Naz had made, but I had assumed he was teasing. Given Adonai was referencing that, then perhaps the Cathar hadn’t been.

  “Putting ad and bu’ad, both expected and potential aside, I… we are curious as to why you wished for this meeting,” Torrhen said, changing the topic. As I looked at him, he passed me a mug, one filled with ne’tra gal which I heartily enjoyed a mouthful of as he continued. “Whenever we have spoken before, it has been in Sundari or on Ordo.” He leaned closer, a glint in his eye. “For you to request we meet you here, in such a traditional location for our people to conduct inter-Clan business, has sparked my curiosity.”

  “As it has for me,” Adonai added with a smile.

  I enjoyed another mouthful of the Mandalorian ale, and then looked at the pair, wondering how they would handle what I was to reveal, and what I would propose. “The location was intentional, Torrhen because as of less than half a month ago, I am no longer a member of the Jedi Order.”

  I stopped there and waited to see how the two older warriors would respond. The pair looked at me carefully, however, I didn’t see any shock or confusion on their faces nor within the Force. No, what I saw was acceptance.

  Before I could further wonder what was going on, Torrhen tossed his head back and laughed loudly. “I told you!” He all but shouted happily at Adonai while banging his mug hard on the table. “I shabyr told you!”

  Adonai grunted and rubbed his chin. “Yeah, I know, I know,” he muttered. I watched as he reached into a pouch around his belt and pulled out a handful of credits.

  After blinking in shock, during which time Adonai moved the hand with the credits onto the table, I spoke. “You… bet on me leaving the Order?” I asked incredulously as the credits fell from Adonai’s hand into the waiting paw of Torrhen who looked as if he’d just won the inter-Republic Lottery.

  “Yes and no,” he said as he pulled the credit chits towards himself. “We both knew that you would leave. You’re a warrior, not a n'aala or'dinii.” I grunted, accepting the comment as I certainly wasn’t some peace-loving fool. “However, I believed you would leave before Bo-Katan was with child, whereas Adonai felt you would only do so if she was with child.”

  I blinked and looked at Adonai, shocked he would bet on something centred around his daughter, or one of them at any rate, getting pregnant. He shrugged in response. “It has been clear to me for several years now that if my daughter is to bear children, you are the only option for her.” He let out a bark that sounded like a mixture of amusement and irritation. “I still cannot believe that you have changed her so that the idea of not just adoption, but rearing a child of my blood appeals to her. Before her death, my wife believed that Bo would never wish for children; a sentiment my daughter expressed for years. Until you gained your current ship in fact,” he added, staring intently at me.

  “Zonama Sekot was an intense experience for us. In many ways.” I made sure my words were soft, not wanting to offend him nor have him wondering about what Bo and I had gotten up to on that world. Or at least what we’d done outside of combat.

  “Yes, we have all heard the stories of your duel for a planet,” Torrhen commented with a wide smile on his face and the credit chits now secured in a pouch on his belt. He lifted his mug towards me. “To you finally realising that you are a warrior and that we are your people. Oya!”

  “Oya!” Adonai and I replied, though the head of House Kryze was less enthusiastic about the cheer than his old friend. We all leaned back, and took long gulps of the ale; something I savoured as it slid down my throat. I was discovering a fondness for various alcohols in this galaxy, though the black ale of Mandalore, while not the most refreshing, held particular significance to me. Now more so than ever since the Mando’ade were the only people I had left after leaving the Jedi, and were those I hoped to use in the coming war.

  “Still, while you finally claiming your position as a true Alor among our people is worthy of celebration, I feel there is more to this meeting than just that,” Adonai remarked once we had all enjoyed some of the ale.

  “Yes,” Torrhen agreed as he leaned forward, “what is next for you now that you are free of the shackles of the Tsad Droten?”

  “Mand'alor,” I replied bluntly. The pair fell silent, perhaps thinking I meant the planet and not the title. That was fine as I knew even if they realised I intended to take the title and lead our people, I needed to convince them of my reasons for this decision and get them onside. Hopefully without having to face off against them in a martial challenge. “Even though you both focus on our people and this sector, I know you can hear the drums beating. In the hearts of all Mando’ade and across the galaxy. War is coming for the Republic, and I know it will not survive it. Not in its current form.”

  “Good. The Tsad Droten deserves to fall. I’m just disappointed that we cannot be the ones to finally bring it down.”

  I nodded at Torrhen’s words. “It will fall under its own weight, and sooner than I think many would expect,” I added with a smirk. I couldn’t reveal everything I knew, as they didn’t realise much about the actions of the Banite Sith and the Interface would interfere with me if I tried to reveal such knowledge and make me sound like an idiot. However, it didn’t take much to point out the flaws in the current galactic structure, and from that, show a possible path forward. One that I needed these two, and then millions and billions of others, to not just understand but follow. “However, in the chaos of the fall of the Republic, there is the… opportunity for new powers to rise.”

  Leaning back, I made sure to look at both as I continued. “The Republic claims to be this great beacon of hope that, one that from Coruscant will lead the galaxy into a brighter, safer future. Their capital is the quote-unquote, Gleaming Light of Civilisation. Yet it has a rotten core and has done so for centuries. Haran, it might well have always had one. A bright, shiny bauble designed to fool the masses into believing everything in the galaxy is good, just, and right.” I snorted and shook my head. “I’m not here to remind you both of the failings of the Republic, or its flawed ideals and their need to enforce those ideals on others. No, what I’m here today to do is suggest a direction through the coming chaos. One that would see our people rise to the position they deserve.

  “For millennia, the galaxy has been taught to fear the Mando’ade. That we are some big, bad threat to the Republic and civilisation. A more physical danger than the Sith, who most believe are little more than a divergent sect of Jedi. They are, in many ways, that, but also not. However, that is beside the point.” I pulled on the Force as I spoke, slowly using it as subtly as I could to, if not alter the pair’s perceptions of me, then to make them more willing to at least consider what I was about to propose.

  “The time has come, as the Republic enters its final decades, for, as I said, new powers to rise. Or, perhaps, old ones under new banners and with goals the masses would agree with.” I reached into my belt and placed a set of restraining cuffs on the table for them to see. “These represent one of the greatest failures of the Republic. They say that slavery is outlawed. That no sentient may be owned by another. Lies! I have seen the levels under the glittering surface of Coruscant, and the masses there trapped against their wills in poverty and denied the chance to fight for and claim their freedom. That is but one of the Republic’s lies. One of hundreds if not thousands it has told the galaxy for centuries.

  “The time has come for those lies to be pushed into the light of day, and then shattered by those with wills made of beskar. However, I cannot take on the slavers that exist, be they those inside Republic borders or without, those at the bottom of the chain, to those with the most power, alone. A stand must be made, and a line drawn in the sand.”

  I could see a glint in the eyes of the two older men, as if they could see where I was going with this speech but were prepared to let me continue. “The Lokella were a start. A testbed, if you will, to see if those who had once been shackled could be turned into warriors of note. Through the work of myself and dozens of our fellow Mando’ade, the Lokella are being forged in the fires of combat into a force to be reckoned with. However, they are but one small, and sadly, all but insignificant group. When faced by the might of Trandosha, or other worlds that believe in hunting, enslaving, and killing others, they would not be able to withstand the onslaught. To say nothing of the other threats that would rise in the Core and Outer Rim against them. No, for what I wish to achieve, I need more. I need an army; I need our people!”

  I stopped there, letting my words and my conviction sink in with the two powerful Mando’ade.

  “Many would listen to your words,” Adonai started slowly as if measuring his thoughts before he gave voice to them. “Just as many would reject them. You are Jetii, or a former one. Many warriors will not stomach a former Jetii leading them. That was why even with our support, the numbers that came to aid you on Naboo were far less than I had hoped. Even with the generous terms of service you offered.”

  My brow rose slightly at his words. The force the Mando’ade had brought was, even without the support of the Lokella, more than enough to overwhelm the Trade Federation’s forces. That more would’ve come if I wasn’t a Jedi was intriguing. “Yes, I had expected many would not like me trying to gather warriors for a cause. However, those who came to Naboo proved my goals were noble and worthy of their support. That, I hope, would’ve improved my standing with all who still follow the resol’nare in their hearts.”

  “It did,” Torrhen confirmed, “but what Adonai says is true. Your position as a lapdog of the Republic, even a former one now if what you say is true, will be held against you.” I ignored the jab about my resignation not being genuine. I knew Torrhen meant no true insult by it, and was simply testing me to see how I would react to the remark as others would try to use it against me. “Many warriors, be they leaders of clans or self-minded individuals, would challenge your position. They would not be willing to follow anyone into battle they did not deem worthy.”

  “I know, and I expect the challenges to grow more once I make clear that my intent to all isn’t simply to gather those willing to fight for credits to my banner, but to unite our people.” The pair stopped, and I swore that if one fell, I’d hear a credit chit hit the floor in one of the nearby empty rooms.

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  “You… you intend to seek the title of Mand'alor?”

  “Aye,” I answered Adonai’s cautious question, “and I will fight whoever I need to claim it. As I said before, the Republic is falling, and it is time for a new power to rise. Why should it not be our people? Why should our ways, our ideals not be the ones to show the galaxy the path forward out of the darkness that the Republic has drowned us in?” I pounded the table with my fist. “Ever since the Dral’Han, the Mando’ade have been cowed by the Republic. Haran, since my ancestor shattered the forces of Te Ani'la Mand'alor at the Ani'la Akaan, our people have been fractured. Yes, there have been times when we have risen again, to answer the call of a new Mand'alor, but none were able to restore the Clans to what we once were. And nor should they be,” I continued, shifting track slightly. “The old ways will not work. No, we have to adapt as Jaster Mereel tried to make the people do decades ago.”

  “He was struck down for that belief,” Adonai remarked, “by those who wanted to keep to the old ways. To break and enslave everyone beneath the feet of a new Crusade. Foes that, even though they should be crushed, linger among our people to this day.”

  “The remnants of Kyr'tsad remain?”

  He nodded. “They do, and while not as powerful as they were before our last civil war, they still cause problems. Their calls for a return to the old ways – for our people to rampage across the galaxy as little more than mindless beasts seeking battle – continue to echo with some in our ranks.”

  “That isn’t a surprise. Decades… centuries of seeming servitude to the Republic and the Senate will chafe those in which the flames of battle burn,” I said with a smile, “and I know the last embers of that flawed ideal must be stamped out so the fires of a new path can be ignited.”

  “Even ignoring whatever remains of the Kyr'tsad, as I just mentioned, many will challenge you once it is clear that you intend to move for the title,” Torrhen cut in, offering another issue that I had been expecting and thus planning for on the flight to Mandalore. “You cannot avoid those challenges, nor deny them the chance to challenge you for leadership of our people.”

  “I would not. Nor, if you felt the desire, would I deny either of you that opportunity. Force knows that you both have stronger claims among our people to become Mand'alor. I hope, however, that instead, you will back my intentions.”

  Adonai shared a look with Torrhen, one that had both smirking in that way that meant they knew something I didn’t. “Perhaps we will,” the head of House Kryze replied, “but not now. Not when another already has the title.”

  “You speak of Jango Fett?”

  “Aye, though he has not made any move to lead our people. Not since avenging the death of Mereel.”

  “Osik, as it stands, there has been no sight of him in several years. The same is true of many other warriors, some of whom fought with us at Naboo.” I tilted my head at Torrhen’s words, curious as to which Mando’ade were missing. I already knew where they would be, or more accurately had a fair suspicion that they had followed Jango to Kamino, but I didn’t have confirmation of that currently.

  I knew that there had been elements of Mando’ade culture in the Clones, though it wasn’t overly clear in the cartoon, and what was shown of their training was undertaken by mercenaries during the war. In Jango’s place, I would’ve hired many to help train the clones. To teach them the way of war, and there were few better people to do that than the Mando’ade.

  “I know where Jango is,” I said quietly, making the brows of both men rise, “and if those warriors left with him, then them as well. I understand fully that until Jango is killed by my blade, few if any will accept me as Mand'alor. I even have a plan, perhaps an insane one, to draw him into confrontation. That, however, can wait for later.” I leaned forward, making sure to meet the eyes of each house leader. “For now, I need your support to begin gathering and training forces for striking at slavers inside the borders of the Republic. To prove my worth as a leader in battle, and gain support so that I can become Mand'alor. I need to show I can lead warriors in battles across the galaxy. By targeting slavers, I can also show that, at least those warriors under my banner are not the demons of old that the citizens of the Republic have been trained to fear. A new era is dawning, and I lead our people through the coming conflicts into a glorious future. The question is,” I contented as I leaned back in my seat and looked at both older warriors, “will you back my vision here, or must I fight each of you to prove my worth and break your clans from the ashes of the old to light the new?”

  … …

  … …

  I sighed as I walked slowly through the streets of Keldabe, using the Force to counter the effects of the rather copious amount of alcohol I had enjoyed. It had been several hours since I’d sat down with Adonai and Torrhen to tell them of my choices, both past and present and I was finally heading back to Raven to rest for the evening.

  The pair had, much to my surprise, agreed at least tentatively to support my plans, though they promised that when the time came for me to openly move to become Mand'alor, they would be the first to challenge me. Not because they felt I was unsuitable for the role – something I confirmed with Observe before we’d shifted topics to less heavy matters – but to ensure those loyal to them continued to follow them, and thus with their backing me, gain the support of many of the Mando’ade clans and people in one swift move.

  The date of when that open declaration of my intentions would be wasn’t touched on, but we all understood the challenges that I had to deal with first. Internally, I had to move to crush the Death Watch fully, placing me on a direct path of confrontation with Pre Vizsla, prove myself to others that I was strong enough to lead our people, and then, when the time came, kill Jango Fett. As much as I would wish for a warrior of his stature at my side, there was no way I could claim the throne while he still lived.

  Pre was both the easiest and most irritating issue to face. I knew he was leading Death Watch, and had the Darksaber, but how to gain confirmation of that knowledge and force a confrontation with him was an issue. The bluntest way was to impregnate Naz, as there was no way he would stand for that and demand a duel of honour. However, as much as I found myself open to the idea of children with Naz and others, using a baby to force a confrontation was the path of a vile coward, and thus not the path I would take. No, instead I was going to have to do things the slow way and crush Death Watch cell by cell until I gained enough proof about Pre’s connection to them that I could openly confront and then defeat and either kill or subjugate him. During that time, I’d be open to his attempts to have me killed, which meant confirming that every Mando’ade that joined my anti-slavery campaign wasn’t loyal to Death Watch, or if they were, either working to manoeuvre them into battles that held a chance for them to fall in combat, or place them in positions where they couldn’t harm or spy upon me. At least not in ways I couldn’t control and direct.

  The challenges from the other clan leaders would be easier and also just as dangerous, if not more so, as those would be a series of duels against any who felt I didn’t have the right to lead our people. Thankfully, while any could in theory make a challenge for the throne, so to speak, most wouldn’t have the support of enough fellow warriors to step forward with any expectation they would be accepted as leader if, by some miracle, they managed to defeat me in single combat.

  Facing and then killing Jango – there was no other way that battle could go – would be the decisive step in my rise to the throne. Oddly, him being on Kamino and a bounty hunter made him the easiest to find and draw out, but the one I feared the most. He was a known killer, one who had killed Jedi unarmed on Galidraan and thus not to be taken lightly. Yes, Windu had dispatched him easily on Geonosis, but that was because it was Windu and Jango lost the ability to use his jetpack, and thus keep his distance from a Jedi. One of the best ways to fight and survive against a Force user when you couldn’t draw on the same power. Given he would also know that I was Mando’ade, and would prepare for that, it would only make my fight with Jango more difficult, and thus enjoyable.

  That said, I knew that Jango would be the last challenge I had to overcome to become Mand’alor. A fact made clear by the quest that had been generated after Adonai and Torrhen had accepted my intent to become the leader of our people.

  The Dragon of Mandalore [¤] [?]

  Rating: S

  Work towards becoming Mand'alor and leading the Mando’ade into the coming galactic war.

  Objectives:

  :a: Become the new Mand’alor.

  :b: Remove the threat posed to the Mando’ade by Death Watch. This also involves the completion of the Pre-emptive Strike quest.

  :c: Emerge victorious from challenges brought forth by Adonai and Torrhen.

  :d: Emerge victorious from challenges brought forth by any Mando’ade with the support and desire to challenge your right to lead.

  :e: Gain the sworn loyalty of various Clan leaders.

  :f: Kill Jango Fett.

  :g: Complete objectives :a: to :f: within five years.

  :h: Complete objectives :a: to :f: within three years.

  :i: Complete objectives :a: to :f: within one year.

  Rewards:

  :a: 15000XP.

  Command of all Mando’ade in the galaxy bar those willing to become dar’manda instead of following your commands.

  :b: 2000XP + Completion of Pre-emptive Strike quest.

  :c: 750XP for each challenge.

  :d: 500XP for each victorious challenge.

  :e: Variable XP based on the percentage of Clan leaders backing your claim.

  Variable changes in Reputation with all Mando’ade.

  :f: 3000XP.

  Large increases in Reputation with all Mando’ade.

  :g: 2500XP.

  :h: 5000XP.

  :i: Double all XP gained from the quest.

  Failure:

  :b: Massive loss of reputation with Adonai Kryze and Torrhen Ordo

  Unable to ever attempt to unite the Mandalorian Clans again.

  :a:, :b:, :d:, :e:, :f: Your Death

  ...

  Much of that quest was, based on what I had been discussing with Adonai and Torrhen before its creation, what I’d expected. In terms of what I’d have to do and what the cost of success and failure would be. The need to gain the support of the various Clan leaders was something Adonai and Torrhen had mentioned during the evening. The pair made clear that, while they led multiple Clans under a single banner, each Clan Leader had a single vote in backing a claimant for the title of Mand'alor. That was something I hadn’t counted on initially and meant I’d have to go on a charm offensive – Mando’ade style – to gather the support of the hundreds of Clan Leaders. Regardless of the size of the Clan, each had a vote and spoke with an equal voice. That further meant that I couldn’t just focus on the major Clan Leaders.

  Such thoughts, as much as I didn’t want them to, once again, turned to Serra. She was the leader of Clan Keto, which while a clan of one, had the same voting power as Adonai and Torrhen. I had hoped to keep the Jedi and Sith in the dark as to my intentions until long after I had become Mand'alor, but if I did that, and she wasn’t given a chance to voice her support or challenge me for my right to lead, then she would be declared dar’manda once I killed Jango and took the throne. Being cast out for not answering the call of the Mand'alor was something I didn’t want, hells, it was going to be hard to explain why she wasn’t one of the first Clan Leaders to support my claim for leadership.

  We were in the minds of many Mando’ade linked together. The first Jedi to join the Clans in an extraordinarily long time. If she didn’t stand with me, it was going to bring forth questions and choices that I’d rather not deal with. However, there was little I could do about the issue, not unless, by some miracle, she was knighted before I made my push for the throne.

  While the quest offered a huge bonus to completing things within a year, I was uncertain if that would be doable. The amount of work needed to pull that off was, to be blunt, impressively concerning. However, I was going to try. Not because of the quest per se, but because the sooner I united the Clans, the sooner I could move to strike at larger slaving operations, and other underworld activities that I couldn’t accept, and thus the earlier the actions of the resurgent and united Mandalorian Clans would spread across the galaxy.

  There were, I suspected, many worlds in the other timeline’s CIS that only joined as they had no other choice. Equally, there would be many who had stayed with the Republic because they hated the mega-corporations more than they despised the Senate. While few of those worlds would be of use to me in a war, the weaker I could make the CIS and GAR, in terms of resources, reputation, and territory, then the better my starting position would be once civil war broke out.

  The odds of that happening on Geonosis in this timeline were remote, more so if I were able to exterminate the inhabitants before they could begin building for the CIS that they had. Now, in theory, the Death Star plans could potentially still be acquired from Poggle. However, I suspected that because of my actions in this timeline, the Geonosians wouldn’t play as pivotal a role in the early days of the war as they had in the other timeline. Something I intended to ensure along with a few other species and locations, Geonosis was a place I wanted to if not render lifeless, then at least crippled severely so that it would be of little to no use to the CIS.

  Many would consider my intentions to target an entire species, or a planet inhabited by a large number of sentients because of the threat they could and would pose, as callous, if not downright evil. However, in the grand scheme of things, the weaker my enemy was when open warfare erupted, the greater my odds of military success would be. For the good of the many, the few had to be sacrificed. A great many few if that was what it took.

  “Well, hello there warrior.”

  I was drawn from my thoughts by the familiar voice coming from ahead of me. I had just emerged at the landing pad where Raven was stationed, and as I looked at my ship, I saw Bo leaning against the landing ramp. The way her body was angled highlighted her frame while her armour only heightened my libido as I knew what lay under the beskar.

  “I figured you’d have returned home after returning my son to my ship,” I remarked as I approached, a smile spreading over my face as I sensed her desire burning in the Force like a beacon calling out to me. “However, I think you have other ideas for the evening, and perhaps the rest of the night through until tomorrow morning.”

  Bo chuckled softly and pushed off from the strut of the ramp she was leaning against to begin sauntering towards me. “I do indeed.” As she neared me, she lifted a hand to my chest and ran her fingers down the edges of the beskar there. “Is it true?”

  “Is what true?” I countered, even though I knew what she was asking. Her thoughts were an open book to me. Especially now that I was prepared to use the Force for my needs and not simply request aid from it.

  “That you’ve left the Jetii and chosen our ways over theirs.”

  “And if I have?” I asked, making her growl with delight.

  “Then we should celebrate,” she suggested, moving closer before leaning up so she could whisper into my ear. “I have missed you inside me,” she added before nibbling my earlobe. “As has Naz.”

  I chuckled at her wantonness. “Where is she, and where is my son?” I asked. Even as I did so, I reached out through the Force, seeking Anakin’s location. He wasn’t on Raven, nor was Fenrir or Simvyl.

  The trio were, as Anakin replied to me through our bond, spending the night at the Kryze estate; a compound that was more akin to a military base centred in one section of the old city which Adonai had taken over with Torrhen to establish their power in the city, and from it, over Mandalore and the surrounding sector. The pair had never moved to directly control the entire city, nor the comings and goings from here and elsewhere on Mandalore, as such a move would be seen as an attempt to take control of the Clans, which would invite backlash. However, their large and seemingly permanent presence in the capital made clear that they were the most powerful Clan Leaders among the Mando’ade. A position they’d held ever since the end of the civil war, and one it seemed neither was willing to surrender. At least to any but the Mand'alor.

  “He’s safe with my father and Torrhen,” Bo replied, confirming what I’d learnt in the moment that passed between my question and her reply. “Along with the Cathar and Fenrir. As for Naz,” she pulled back, her fingers sliding down my arm and then grasping my beskar-covered artificial fingers, “she’s inside awaiting us.”

  I pulled Bo back to me, my lips finding hers with practised ease. She moaned into the kiss, and her other hand came to my chest, her desire and need burning like a star within the roaring eddies of the Force. I pulled back before she became overcome with lust. “Then let us head inside and see what we can do about quenching your… passions.”

  The pair still wished for a child from me, and I saw no reason to deny their desires. Yes, there was a danger that others, particularly the Sith and Jedi, could try and get to me through my children, but they would seek to do so anyway through Bo, Naz, and even Serra. However, I wouldn’t deny that I wished for offspring as well. The idea of ensuring that even if I fell in the coming wars my bloodline and ideals were carried forth appealed. Anakin was my ad, but the time would come when he became a warrior in his own right and founded Clan Skywalker. I would not be the last Shan to influence the galaxy, not if I could help it.

  … …

  … …

  I stood at the edge of the area, watching as Anakin sparred with a child a few years older than him; one training at an Institute similar to the one that Serra and I had attended while on Mandalore. The difference was that the training for future warriors was no longer constrained by the demands of those Republic-backed fools who had called themselves New Mandalorians.

  Depending on how my plans for tomorrow went, then he would be joining the Institute for a few months at least However, even if tomorrow went pear-shaped, which it had a good chance to do, training with others his age, particularly those not able to draw on the Force but trained to combat such individuals, would only serve him well in shaping the warrior he was becoming.

  “He’s too rash. Too quick to move and losing focus.”

  “I’m aware,” I replied to Simvyl who stood at my side. The Cathar drew looks whenever we were on Mandalore, and had on occasion been challenged to prove his worth. Challenges that he had passed with honours and was now regarded well by those Mando’ade who knew him and his connection to me and my clan.

  It was a few days after my meeting with Adonai and Torrhen, and things were moving along slowly. Which was to be expected as it had only been a short time since I’d revealed my intention to become Mand'alor. Both men were reaching out to their contacts, seeking information on Death Watch while I was talking with those I was friendly with – in the case of Bo and Naz intimately so – about striking against slavers and other criminals in nearby sectors.

  I was aware that destroying the black markets and cartels that ran the galactic underground was impossible. Not only would that mean taking on the Hutts, Black Sun, Pyke Syndicate, and others that had the manpower, starships, and credits to crush anything I did with contemptuous ease, but for every group I crushed, for every major black-market port or trading post I destroyed, three or more would spring up in their place. That said, taking out the slave trade, or at least doing enough to show that I was capable of ensuring that any that engaged in such practices would suffer violent and painful deaths was generally achievable.

  For the other illicit trades, I would have to consider each and the groups involved in them carefully. Spice was an obvious one, save that it was also legal to trade in it. The problem was that some variants were dangerous to certain species, while many spice mines used slave labour to mine. I wanted to shut down those mines, but moving against any but the smallest operation would see me brought into conflict with groups I wasn’t capable of taking on currently. Thus, my focus, or at least my planned focus for now, was on the slaving operations that took place in the surrounding sectors: on worlds that were under the authority of the Senate, but where crime and chaos were rampant. For that I would be borrowing heavily from the Lokella playbook, though with warriors bred from an early age for war, and who understood the importance of tactics to a degree that few other cultures did.

  The one issue I had encountered, and it was something Adonai and Torrhen had touched on at our meeting turned drinking session, was that many of the more experienced warriors who had fought for me on Naboo were missing. Kal Skirata, Vhonte Tervho, Jad Spars, and former Rangemaster Dun Marod among others had disappeared, seemingly cutting ties with their Clans. The two older Mando’ade weren’t sure where those warriors had gone, but I was certain that Jango had recruited them to train the Clones. They should, once I killed Fett, return to Mandalore, and swear themselves to their new Mand'alor, or even potentially challenge me for leadership. The problem was that I couldn’t be certain they would return when they should as Kamino was intentionally cut off from the rest of the galaxy. In that event, I would have to travel there myself, or at least have someone I trusted to do so, and demand they return to avoid becoming dar’manda. None deserved that fate, but if they would not follow me, then that was what awaited them.

  Another issue I faced, and a far more pressing one, was Anakin. When I began my assaults against slavers in nearby sectors, then I had to juggle when he could come along and what he did, and when he couldn’t. While still several years from being ready to take his verd’goten, he was my son and apprentice – I was shifting to that term instead of Padawan as I was no longer a Jedi, and he had never officially been one – and leaving him behind regularly would suggest I didn’t trust him or want him at my side. The last thing I desired for him to believe.

  There would be operations where he wouldn’t come, and on those, he would accept my word. However, for the others, he would and for that, he needed to train and understand how Mando’ade fought and worked together. Hence why, as of this morning, I had brought him to an Institute for training alongside children his age. So far, I was unimpressed, as while he had won a handful of spars, his overall performance was lacking. Unrefined, undisciplined, and rageful. All traits of a berserker and not a warrior.

  A grunt of annoyance slipped from me as I felt the rising fury that blazed within him as his opponent, the son of the leader of one of the Clans sworn to House Kryze, didn’t just block an attempted strike, but slapped his arm away almost dismissively. “Control,” I growled out under my breath for at least the dozenth time this morning.

  Anakin, sadly, didn’t hear me, nor realise his mistake and before he even committed to his next move, I knew the spar was over. As the other boy grasped Anakin’s arm and began to turn, pulling my son off his feet, I was moving forward. I had allowed these mistakes to continue for long enough in the hope that he might see his greatest flaw and attempt to correct it. Yet, as he struck the ground loud enough to draw a pained cry from his lips, it was clear that not only wasn’t he sensing the lesson but that much of what he might’ve learnt over the last few years was slipping away as his fury radiated outward, threatening to overwhelm him.

  The other boy stepped back, a proud smirk on his face and said something to Anakin. My son’s head snapped around and as almost unrestrained rage erupted into the Force and I felt the pressure in the air grow thick with anticipation, I increased my pace. “Anakin!” I spat out forcefully, using my power over the Force to blast through his emotional instability.

  His head snapped so he could look at me as I moved closer. [What are you doing?] I asked him through the Force.

  [Losing!] He snapped back. I reached out into the Force, letting my power over it leak into our bond and the area around us. I didn’t care how the warriors around us reacted to such a thing, not that I expected any of them to understand what was happening. No, what I wanted was to remind Anakin that I wouldn’t tolerate that tone and aggression towards me. [Sorry.]

  [As you should be. Not for lashing out or getting angry, but for allowing those emotions to take control. You have learnt better, I made sure of it, so control yourself.] “He might be stronger and better trained than you, but he is not your better,” I said out loud, knowing that if I chose to simply stare at my son while others watched, they wouldn’t understand what was going on and think I was acting like a Jedi. That was something I wasn’t, nor the more I’d thought about things in the month or so that had passed since I’d left the Order, had I truly been one for some time. Even perhaps going back to before Naboo. I just hadn’t seen the signs while I was racing past them. “Control yourself. Focus on the moment as I trained you to do, and you will emerge victorious,” I added before shifting back to mental communication. [You control your emotions and the Force. You don’t allow them to control you. There is nothing wrong with drawing on how you feel in battle, or in most places in life. However, you need to channel and focus them. As you learnt with the Shapers and Matukai.]

  “I know. Sorry.”

  I moved closer and lifted his head which had dropped after my words, both oral and mental. “Don’t be sorry. Be better.” [The Force is with you, so use it and prove yourself against your opponent.]

  I held his eye, waiting for his response. Beyond a nod, there was nothing visual, however, within the Force, I felt the shift. Where before there had been a hint of madness in how he and the Force were interacting, as he lost himself in his negative emotions, now things shifted. The fire that raged within him remained, but I could see him harnessing it. Not as well as I could currently do, or to the level I one day hoped to be able to by learning from Malgus and other holocrons, but enough that I could sense he had regained his control.

  After returning the nod, I stepped away; certain that he would do better. As I walked back to Simvyl I saw one of the Cathar’s eyebrows had risen, and I understood why. My words today, as they had been since I’d left the Order, were colder to Anakin. Or at least to one not attuned to the Force, they would seem that way. Within the bond I shared with Anakin, I made certain he understood that I cared for him and that my intentions were only to start shaping him into the warrior he would become. I had even, the day after we had left the Lokella for Mandalore, explained as much to him.

  Since we had arrived on Mandalore, or at least when I had been free to train him, he had experienced the shift and understood that my feelings for him hadn’t changed, only my goal for what I was training him for. He felt I was shifting everything towards making him Mando’ade who could draw on the Force, which was what I expected him and others to believe. In reality, I was shaping him to use the Force as a tool and weapon.

  The coming war, in which his role was as important as mine, would require him to be a weapon; one designed to fight on any kind of battlefield. He needed to be ready for that, but I wasn’t going to go as far as Adas and Malgus would want me to with an apprentice. I wouldn’t break them down and rebuild them into what I wanted. Anakin already trusted me and understood my goals were to make him strong so that one day, he could claim his revenge on Decca the Hutt, and then be ready for what came after.

  We would not be Sith, though he would learn their lessons as I distilled them within myself, and through us, and others like Quinan, Aayla, and others I hoped to gain as allies and followers, reshape the galaxy into something worthy of our presence.

  … …

  … …

  I moved slowly through the facility, making my way towards the only occupied cell in the place. The complex was located in the Mandalore system, but not on the planet itself. Instead, it was one of several – though the only one currently active according to Adonai and Torrhen – located throughout the Mandalore sector designed in millennia past to house and contain Force-sensitive prisoners the Mando’ade had captured.

  The facility was housed inside an asteroid that while now in use wasn’t running at close to full power. Both because it held only a single prisoner and because the only current occupant wasn’t considered on the level of a Sith Lord or Jedi Council Member. Now, that wasn’t to say Maul wasn’t powerful, nor that the Mando’ade were being skimpy on the security of the facility, it was just that this place could, in theory, detain Force users like Sidious, Plagueis, Yoda, and Windu. At least in theory. I was sure that a Force user with those levels of power and control could break free of the containment, but according to everything I’d read about this site, no Force user had ever escaped from it in the countless years it had been in existence.

  The corridors were generally devoid of people, with pairs of guards in full armour and outfitted specifically to take down Force users at critical intersections. Cameras lined the corridor I was walking down, as they had ever since I’d arrived on the station with Baston Tyri. He was the one overseeing the security of the facility and had remained behind in the control centre while I’d set off for Maul’s cell. The direction was programmed into the Battlenet running through my armour, which was connected to the station’s security system. That way, if things went south in a hurry while I spoke with Maul, I could ensure that he wouldn’t escape.

  As I neared the cell, Maul’s presence in the Force became clearer, and I frowned under my helmet at what I sensed. The power and fury that I had faced on Naboo was there, but it was… contained. Around that rage that had powered him during our fight, and no doubt in every other moment of his life until then, was a barrier. One keeping the storm that was Maul’s presence in the Force contained, and as I gently bent the Force around me to my demands, I realised that he seemed more centred than I recalled. Why that was I would have to discover once I spoke to him, but it was an interesting change.

  Perhaps it was in response to my presence. Once the ship carrying Baston and I had been halfway to this facility, I had allowed the restraints on my Force signature to slowly peel away. I had considered waiting until I was in Maul’s physical presence before removing the barriers I had learnt to craft from Adas’ teachings. However, I had decided against such a display as it would only place Maul on the defensive, well far more so than he would be anyway, when we spoke, which might well undermine what I hoped to achieve here today. Or at least begin the process of achieving.

  It would take him time to realise I was the same person he had fought on Naboo, as I knew my Force signature wasn’t anywhere close to what it had once been. However, before he saw my armour when I entered his cell, he would know that it was me that was approaching and I wanted him to have time to process that fact, and that not only had I grown more powerful, but that I now no longer hid that the Force bent to my will instead of me asking it for aid as a Jedi might.

  Depending on how today went, I was considering returning his lightsaber to him. His lightsaber was a part of him just as mine was part of me, and while that weapon wasn’t in his hands, I was assured that his cell could contain him even if he was armed. Bringing the weapon with me was a risky move, but he had no way of knowing it was present as it would remain secure in my Inventory until I felt the moment was right to reveal it. If such a moment ever occurred.

  The armour’s sensors, and those of the station, noted a steady drop in the temperature as I moved ever closer to the cell and I peeled back the last of the restraints on my Force signature while I basked in the power of the Force as it acquiesced to my demands. A moment later Baston contacted me via the Battlenet, asking what was going on, though my only response was to inform him I was the cause of the shift. He would, in time, understand that I was using the Force to influence the environment around me; to shift and bend the physical realm to my demands as I did with the Force. All to prove to Maul that I was, and yet was not, the man he had fought on Naboo.

  I waited outside the final set of doors leading to Maul’s cell. Even though they knew who I was, and why I was here, the four-warrior team there carried out their orders: confirming my presence with Control, and making sure all the security codes were accurate and up to date. Exactly as they were meant to do.

  A simple nod from the leader of the four-warrior team was the only confirmation I received that I was clear to proceed, and I moved towards the door. It slid open, not because I had approached, but because of dual commands from the team present and the control centre. Stepping inside, I realised this was an airlock, or something remarkably similar to it. The hiss of seals as the door closed and the air shifted around me, confirmed that before, a moment later, the inner door opened, and I was greeted by the sight of Maul’s cell.

  Calling it a cell was perhaps a misnomer. This place was more akin to a storage room in size. I was standing on a ledge, looking towards the centre of the room where, in a completely relaxed cross-legged meditation position, sat Maul. His eyes ranged over me, as I stood there, and I felt him searching in the Force, confirming that I was the same individual who had defeated him on Naboo. As he did that, and I allowed more of my signature in and control over the Force to expand outwards, I moved to one side of the ledge.

  There a small console rested on a pedestal and contained only two buttons. The left would extend a platform that ran to the edge of the ray shields that formed a cone over Maul’s platform and ensured he couldn’t escape. The other would lower the ray shields, though only if confirmed in seconds by commands from the men outside and those in the control room. Otherwise, it would open the vents around the walls and turn the chamber into a vacuum. While the vastness of space wouldn’t instantly kill Maul, it would ensure he remained contained, and thus able to be, once he weakened from the exposure, restrained, and moved to another secure location.

  While I considered how to approach this meeting, or at least where to begin our conversation, I turned back to Maul and used Observe; curious as to his mental state and how he might’ve changed in the years since we last encountered each other.

  Maul

  Race: Zabrak

  Level: 37

  Health: 100% (Limited subsistence outside of the Force)

  Age: 24

  Force Potential: High

  Threat Potential: High

  Reputation: Neutral

  Affiliation Loyalty: Maul (82%) The Banite Sith (64%) Darth Sidious (57%)

  Emotional State: Curious/Angered

  Maul is wondering why you, after so long, have returned to see him.

  He is also intrigued by the changes that he can sense within you, wondering if, like him, you have seen through the lies.

  However, he remains infuriated that you defeated him on Naboo, as he knows it was only his failings and your gadgets that allowed it to happen.

  ...

  The most interesting things from that, at least when I compared it to when I’d used Observe on him while he was sedated after our battle on Naboo, were threefold. The first was that he had risen a level even while contained in this cell. I was unsure how that had happened, but I assumed that he had spent time reflecting on not just our duel, but on his life up until then, and used it to train himself in ways that Sidious had not, for whatever reason, done so. That suspicion was enhanced by the massive drop in loyalty to Darth Sidious and the Banite Sith Order. Both were low. Far lower than I’d expected, but they were something I could use, and should, I hope, drop as we spoke.

  The last thing was how he felt about me. Yes, the anger about losing to me on Naboo, courtesy of my armour and what I’d added to it was understandable, and something I could exploit while we spoke. However, it was the mention that he had seen through the lies that caught my attention. It mirrored something Malgus had said once I’d managed to open his holocron and suggested that my plans for Maul, and the linked quest Son of Darkness, had a greater chance of success than I’d initially hoped for.

  Deciding to begin the conversation now, I lifted off my helmet, and after shaking my head to allow my hair to breathe again, looked at the sitting Zabrak. “Hello Maul. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

  … …

  … …

  ...

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