In the seconds after Raven slipped out of hyperspace, her scanners detected numerous objects moving throughout the Gaia system. Most were starships with over a dozen new DP20 gunships, CR70 and CR90 corvettes part of the defence fleet, along with what looked to be converted Gozanti-class transports. What drew my attention more, at least beyond the handful of cargo vessels stationary near Mtael’s Gift, were the two Liberator-class cruisers that were floating nearby, along with a dozen automated defence platforms.

  “Well, that’s new,” I muttered as I pulled up the scans of the platforms. All twelve were small, barely bigger than a standard corvette, yet because they didn’t need a hyperdrive, they were armed to the teeth. Now, they were nothing compared to the larger platforms I’d seen around more developed worlds, to say nothing of the Golan platforms that orbited Coruscant and other worlds on mass, but for a relatively minor world in a backwater sector of the galaxy, nor far from the edges of Hutt Space, it was a veritable fortress defence. Something that would ensure that almost all pirates and slavers would stay well clear of the station and the planet below.

  “Yeah, looks like they’ve undergone a defensive upgrade,” Simvyl agreed as he sat in the co-pilot’s seat monitoring various systems. Yes, I could get most of the data myself, or from Raven, which was always quicker, but I enjoyed having the company when entering a system, and it ensured that Raven remained comfortable with Simvyl being at her controls. Oh, now that she could, she’d fly herself before allowing him to pilot her, but she accepted his presence and found it fractionally reassuring.

  One of the consoles at Simvyl’s station beeped for attention. “We’re being hailed by those two approaching corvettes,” He explained before the small holographic image of a Togruta appeared.

  Because the hologram was in blue, I couldn’t determine who the alien was easily but the way his eyes widened as he saw me made clear he knew who I was. “Greetings Mtael,” he confirmed with an inclination of his head. “We were not informed of your arrival, but you are always welcome here.” I smiled slightly at his words. “Should I inform the Council you have returned?”

  “No, no. There’s no need for that,” I replied quickly, wanting to forgo as much fuss as I could when I arrived on the station. I understood why the Lokella Council liked to make a deal of my arrival here, but as I expected to be spending more time here in the coming years, it would do the Lokella to step back from celebrating my every arrival. “I’m here to speak with Master Dooku. Is he on the station or the planet below?”

  Even as I asked the question, I felt the Force signature – that cool, refined presence that reminded me of polished beskar – reach out to me through the Force. Dooku was aware of my arrival and was moving from Gaia to the station. There was a hint of confusion in his signature, which I assumed came from him sensing Aayla and Quinlan as neither was currently great at masking their presence, but nothing else. I responded to his presence, offering a subtle hint that I’d explain everything once we spoke.

  I was relieved that he was leaving Gaia as much as I wished I couldn’t, I sensed Vosa down there. Her signature had changed since her capture during my liberation, but it was still a jumbled mess. Now, it was far more ordered than it had been, and I could easily sense Dooku’s hand in guiding the rebuilding of her mental presence, but I wanted little to do with her. Yes, I knew I would have to speak with her directly at some point, but today was not that day, and not just because I was against a clock.

  My mind had been creating and dismissing ideas on how Dooku and I could rob the Temple without being caught or detected. So far everything I’d thought of had holes so big that I could fly a Mandator-class dreadnought through, and I hoped Dooku would have something more refined than a smash-and-grab.

  The other reason I was reluctant to interact with Vosa was that, while they might not remember it, Quinlan and Aayla shared a history with her. They had been part of the team that had freed me from the Bando Gora and captured her in the process. I had no idea how Vosa would react to their presence, particularly that of Quinlan who she had defeated before I’d found her, but I wasn’t going to expose them to that insanity until I’d done more than give them rudimentary instruction in controlling and guiding their emotions.

  There was much more I could teach them, but I was taking it slowly; being cautious of what I revealed. There was always the chance, however much I felt it was receding, that they would return to the Order. Until I was convinced they wouldn’t, the more interesting and useful techniques I’d learnt over the last few years would remain hidden from them as I didn’t want the High Council learning of what I was doing. Even after I left the Order, which I felt had to happen at some point within a year, as a Force user they still could, technically, come after me if they had confirmation I was using the Dark Side.

  “I am uncertain as to his current whereabouts,” the Togruta replied, drawing me out of my thoughts. “However, I will submit a request for that information to be provided to you once you land on Mtael’s Gift.

  “Thanks,” I said before nodding and then closing the channel.

  Even before the channel was closed, Raven was angling herself towards the station; her mind alert to my intentions and her knowledge of the system plotting a course that was both economical and allowed her to enjoy the scenery. Or at least the scenery as it appeared to her. A second later the flight plan came in from one of the corvettes even as the patrol craft angled away from us. I smirked at seeing the bay was the same one I always used; one reserved for Lokella Council business.

  I was a member of the Council, but I’d never used that position or my vote on Lokella affairs to influence the development of the group. Not since the early days of the group. Still, it was nice to see that I retained my position even without ever being around to serve the people.

  “Mtael?”

  I turned around and looked at Aayla and Quinlan. She had been the one to mention my title and wore a look of amusement on her face; one mirrored, though not as widely, by her former Master.

  The pair had accepted my offer to travel with me here, and once there to speak with Dooku and allow us to begin their retraining. I wasn’t sure how happy Dooku would be about the matter, not least as both favoured Ataru which was Dooku’s least favourite lightsaber form, but I felt he’d understand my reasons for bringing them with us.

  “It’s a Togruta word,” I explained slowly, no longer holding any resentment towards the title. Yes, I would prefer it didn’t exist, but I’d accepted that to many of the Lokella, I held an important position in their mythos. “It means ‘Nature’s Chosen’. When the Lokella organisation was born, Master Dooku and I played roles in helping them gain their freedom. Those first freed sentients bestowed the title on me for my actions in those early days, and my support in helping them grow into what you see before you.”

  Beside me, Simvyl snorted at my underplaying of history. However, he wisely held his tongue. The pair would learn the story soon enough – Baalta was more than happy to tell it to visitors, particularly friends of mine, and Anakin enjoyed hearing the tale of my duel with Girk Saxon for the fate of the station every time we were here.

  So far, my son was enjoying the company of the two other Jedi, particularly Aayla. He was too young for me to be concerned about needing to give him ‘The Talk’ but it was clear he enjoyed sparring with her more than Quinlan. Some of that was undoubtedly because she wasn’t as big, strong, or aggressive as Quinlan, but I did wonder if Anakin had other reasons for enjoying time spent with the Twi’lek. Something I couldn’t deny held appeal to me as well, but with her mind as disjointed and fractured as it was, I made sure to never have any interaction we had venture beyond the bounds of friendship. I wasn’t going to take advantage of her condition for a fleeting moment of pleasure.

  … …

  I walked down the ramp from Raven, placing my feet on the deck of the landing bay of Mtael’s Gift about thirty minutes later. Around us, various sentients watched us. Those who understood who I was, stared for longer, with those who were from the first groups to become Lokella, offered various nods and bows to me. Even though there was an ego boost to their actions, I didn’t feel they had to do it. Still, I’d take the quiet reverence over the usual fanfare the Lokella Council displayed when they knew I’d returned and wanted to greet me.

  Moments after I’m fully on the station, I hear a far lighter pair touch the deck. I smirk at the anticipation pulsing from Anakin like a beacon in the Force; one that had been lit the moment he’d learnt we were heading here and only grew stronger the closer we came. “Go on.” I would scold him later for letting his Force signature slip so massively, but for now, he was free to do as he pleased.

  “Thanks.” The word barely finished before he was racing off across the bay, the Force enhancing his reactions, so he was almost a blur to those unable to command the Force, or with superior visual senses.

  “Keep an eye on him,” I said without taking my eyes off my son as he raced away, and a second later a large black beast raced after the eleven-year-old boy. While those working the bay had ignored Anakin, the sight of the giant tuk’ata bounding around had many rushing to stay clear; even those who should know Fenrir was no threat to them. Not unless they did something so foolish they forfeited their lives in the process.

  “Anakin has a younger sister here,” I explained as I turned to face Quinlan and Aayla as they walked down the ramp. “While the Order insists that members don’t remain in contact with their families, or form deep friendships and more with others, I don’t share the opinion that they should be outlawed. Yes, such connections carry an inherent risk of causing us pain – a danger magnified by our ability to wield the Force – but those same connections can be what grant anyone, Force user or otherwise, the strength and determination to complete a task, no matter how dangerous or arduous.”

  While I was speaking truthfully, I understood the reasons for the Order’s edicts. Most people were unable to either scrub their emotions when someone they cared for was in danger or lost themselves in their desire to help. For those above that or those who formed deep connections with ease, such as myself and Anakin, there was no way those edicts could work. Which was what Sidious had exploited in the other timeline and why I wasn’t telling the Jedi Council I had taken a Padawan.

  “I think I remember some of those lessons,” Aayla commented as she looked around the bay. “They taught us that attachment often leads to dark places and that we as Jedi should be above our baser needs.”

  I grunted but held my tongue. As much as I wanted to point out the hypocrisy of the Jedi and their teachings, I didn’t want to dive into a debate with them. We’d spoken about several ways the Jedi conducted themselves on the voyage here with Aayla often able to vaguely remember lessons on the topics and now as then, I had to restrain myself from countering too heavily lest the pair, who I could sense were still not fully committed to leaving the Order, learn something about me I didn’t want the Jedi Council to discover. Just because I was being paranoid, didn’t mean I wasn’t right after all.

  That said, when we had talked about anything related to the Jedi, my words had rarely been supportive of their methods. I wasn’t outright criticising them, but everything I said had a slightly negative slant to, I hoped, further, turn the pair away from the Order and open them to the lessons I might one day impart.

  Before I could begin those lessons, or even get them to a point where they were ready to hear them, I first needed to speak with Dooku. We had to carry out our raid on the Temple and then, once the heat had died down, resign from the Order. After that, if the pair wished to return to the Order – though I already felt that was unlikely – then I would allow it. The future, as Master Yoda and others were keen to remind younger members of the Order, wasn’t set in stone. Something my very presence confirmed.

  When I’d awoken in this body, replacing the mind and possibly soul that had been here before, I’d thought I knew what the path forward was. I needed to become a Jedi, then train Anakin as one and keep him away from Sidious. I’d also wanted to ensure Dooku didn’t become a pawn for the Banite Sith Lord. Yet, when I now looked back on the path I’d taken, the time I’d spent as an Initiate, then Padawan in the Order, I found it lacking.

  I had made mistakes along the way, ones that with hindsight and understanding of the wider galaxy, I would not commit now. Yet, for each event that had occurred – from helping Dooku and Fay cleanse the Sith temple deep below the Jedi Temple, through becoming Mando’ade via the completion of my verd’goten, to being captured by Vosa and the Bando Gora, fighting the Vong as an insurgent, and then duelling and defeating Maul – and from every friendship or more that I’d gained or lost along the way, I had grown and become who I was today.

  The past was set. There was nothing I could do to change the road I’d taken to this moment, but from here on out I would be walking a path designed not simply to stop the rise of Darth Sidious and the Empire, but one intended to ensure my place in the galaxy, and that my legacy touched every corner of every world inside the Republic and out. Yes, Sidious – and through one of my mistakes, Plagueis – would have to fall, but so would the Jedi. At least as they were now.

  Perhaps, just perhaps, there might be a way for those more like Master Fay in how they viewed themselves as servants of the Force and not enemies of the Dark Side, to remain. I wasn’t certain of that, but I hoped I would not one day find myself forced to fight, or even potentially kill, my former Master. She, though she might not be pleased about it, had helped shape the man I was today, and was someone I considered family.

  Thoughts on Fay, and potentially how she was doing in locating Tython, were pushed from my mind as I felt the familiar, and oddly comforting given his seemingly dispassionate demeanour, presence of Dooku nearing. Before the doors had opened to allow him access to the bay, I was already moving towards them.

  As he entered, his gaze shifted from me to Quinlan and Aayla, before returning to me. I offered a nod of respect as we approached each other. “Master,” I began once we were close enough, “I’m sure you remember Quinlan Vos and Aayla Secura.”

  “I do,” he replied slowly, his eyes seeming to stare through their souls, “and they still have my thanks for helping to liberate you from the clutches of the Bando Gora. However, it doesn’t take a Jedi Master to understand something has deeply affected them.”

  “A little over a year ago, they were assigned a mission by the Council to locate a new drug in the Republic: Glitteryll. As the name implies it is a combination of glitterstim and ryll. They were exposed to the substance by those they thought they could trust but were actually responsible for the distribution of the drug, and under its effects lost their memories.”

  “Quinlan awoke on Nar Shaddaa, and after managing to find the one responsible for his memory loss, Pol Secura, he discovered that the Twi’lek was keeping his niece Aayla dosed with the drug daily.”

  “Her lekku granted her some protection against this drug?”

  “They did,” I confirmed before continuing with the abridged story. “Pol was killed, and Quinlan was forced to flee Ryloth without Aayla. From there… things spiralled a bit.” I paused and glanced at Aayla who seemed to sink in on herself. “Quinlan dealt with others involved in the glitteryll trade and then searched for Aayla, which brought him to me. As for Aayla…”

  “I found myself drawn to Kiffu because of my former Master’s ancestry,” Aayla stepped in, showing accountability for her actions. “But I ended up on Kiffex, and fell into the service of a former Jedi High Council member turned Dark Jedi named Volfe Karkko.”

  The only outward response from Dooku was a slight raising of one eyebrow, and to anyone who didn’t know him, there wouldn’t be any perceivable change in his Force presence. However, after nearly a decade of training under his tutelage, I knew the subtle signs to look for. “An Anzati Jedi from before the New Sith Wars,” I explained, retaking the telling of our tale. “Quinlan and I travelled to Kiffu and eventually landed on Kiffex.” I reached to my hip, pulled back my cloak and unclipped Karkko’s lightsaber. “He commanded an army of feral Anzati who were drawn to his presence over the millennia. However, like their master, they are no longer a threat to the people of the planet,” I finished with a hint of pride.

  “Impressive,” Dooku commented as he took Karkko’s hilt and turned it over in his hands. “However,” he continued as he handed the hilt back to me, “I fail to see why, if these two require retraining, they have come here instead of returning to Coruscant.”

  “After I found the one ultimately responsible for the glitteryll trade, I encountered Master Windu,” Quinlan responded. “He stopped me from executing Senator Chom Frey Kaa for his crimes. He understood quickly what had happened to me, and offered to take me back to the Temple for training. I asked him about Aayla, and he said the Order would search for her but I…” he paused, and I heard him licking his lips, “I felt he wouldn’t. I fled Coruscant and started searching for Aayla for months until the Force led me to Cameron.”

  “Beyond the debt I owe them for helping you free me from the Bando Gora, Aayla is my friend,” I added. “Accepting Quinlan’s request for help wasn’t in question. I’ve helped them as best I could with retraining, and Aayla remembers fragments of her time from before being dosed with glitteryll. However, they feel that, based on what they’ve done since losing their memories, the Order might not be as welcoming as they hope,” I explained, trying to hint at the potential usefulness of the pair to Dooku without coming out and saying it, or using the Force to imply it. It was unlikely either would sense me if I reached out to Dooku, but I wasn’t going to take that chance, and knew I could explain my intentions to him in greater detail at a later moment. “Because of that, and my debt to them, I offered them transport away from Kiffu before the Order arrived, and passage to here. I know you are still occupied with your former Padawan; however, I was hoping you might be willing to consider offering them some help with regaining control of their abilities and emotions. I also wished to speak with you about my encounter with Volfe Karkko and some ideas,” [specifically your thoughts regarding holocrons,] I added telepathically, sure that such a shift in the Force now shouldn’t alert the pair to anything nefarious centred around them, “that have come to light.”

  Dooku’s gaze locked onto me as I spoke, and I felt a thin tendril reach through our bond and brush against my mental defences. I lowered those defences enough to confirm the truthfulness of my words, and that there was more I wished to say but couldn’t in present company so that he could gain a hint of my thoughts on the matter.

  I was grateful for his training and continued counsel, however, Dooku had a remarkably simple – he would call it elegant – approach regarding the galaxy and those in it. Everything was either an asset that could be used or a potential enemy that might need to be removed. It was that approach I was using, specifically in reference to assets, that I hoped would convince him to help me retrain Aayla and Quinlan instead of simply allowing them to return to the Order and become potential adversaries in the future.

  “Hmm,” he lifted a hand and stroked his chin. “Very well.” He looked the pair over clinically. “While I do not believe I would be able to retrain both of you fully at the current moment, I can offer suggestions for you and Cameron on how to go about relearning much of what you have forgotten if that is your desire.” The pair bowed in thanks and Dooku returned his focus to me. “Komari is progressing well in her readjustment; however, she is still… uncertain of what her role could become. Normally, I would say that the presence of two other Force users might help her further recovery. Yet she shares history with both of you, so I am reluctant to have you interact with her beyond comms channels.”

  I felt confusion from Quinlan along with a flicker of potential recognition from Aayla. “Komari Vosa is who Master Dooku is speaking of,” I explained, though before I could continue Aayla gasped and took a few stuttering steps back.

  “Aayla?” Quinlan asked, turning to her and placing a hand on her shoulder – a gesture that caused Dooku’s brow to rise again for a moment. “What is it?”

  “I… I remember her,” Aayla said quietly, some colour draining from her face. It returned with interest as she looked at me for a moment before looking away. “She… she was the leader of the Bando Gora when we helped free you from them. She was the one who…”

  “Who tortured me,” I replied, keeping as calm as I could to avoid the memories of those months resurfacing. “Yes, that was Vosa. However, she was once Dooku’s Padawan, before embarking on a mission against the Bando Gora that saw all the Jedi there slaughtered. For a long time, Master Dooku believed she had died as well, and it was not until my rescue that he confirmed her survival, though by then she’d become the leader of the Bando Gora.”

  I’d already gone over the Bando Gora a little with them, explaining the debt I owed them, but I’d avoided details as I’d wanted to avoid the risk of Aayla remembering more details. There was nothing I could do to avoid it now that we were here, which was why I’d not shied away from the matter as I had before, and it seemed I’d been right to be cautious.

  “I’m sorry you have to remember those memories,” I added as I took a step towards Aayla, placing my flesh hand on her forearm. “I’d prefer neither of us had to relive it, but I won’t hide the truth from you.”

  “No!” Aayla snapped back, a fire in her eyes as I felt an unexpected, but not unwanted, flicker of rage spark within her. “I’m the one who’s sorry. Not for you, but the Order!” She looked at Quinlan. “You and Master Dooku asked them for help to find Cam, but they refused. Said it was up to the will of the Force.” Quinlan grunted and I wondered if Windu had used those exact words to him when speaking about finding Aayla. “We.. we had to go to others for help…”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Mandalorians,” I added, for the first time in a long while not calling them Mando’ade.

  “Yes. I remember them. The red-haired female… she meant something to you?”

  “Still does,” I slipped in with a smirk, remembering the last night I’d spent with Bo and Naz and wondering how they were doing and if either of them carried my child as they’d hoped.

  “What she… Vosa… did to you…” Aayla’s eyes dampened. “I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” I said, lifting my hand to brush away a few tears that were forming on her face. “You weren’t the one responsible for that. Without you and Quinlan’s help, Master Dooku might have struggled to free me.” There was no audible sound from him, but I sensed a spark of disagreement from him through the Force. “What happened to me there… it is a part of me, just as what you have endured over the last year is a part of you. I loathe Vosa for what she had done to me, but at the same time, I pity her as she would’ve endured the same or worse to become that monster. Yet, I don’t blame her as much as I once might’ve. No, the majority of that goes to the Order for allowing her to join the mission to Galidraan.”

  I knew Dooku still blamed himself in part for signing off on letting her go, but in the end, the credit stopped with the High Council, not Dooku as by then Vosa had been removed as his Padawan. From the corner of my eye, I looked at Dooku trying to get a read on him. He remained as outwardly stoic as always, yet I felt a fleeting burst of gratitude from him through our Force bond.

  Vosa’s rehabilitation into something useful was important to Dooku, which was why I never openly complained about it, or the fact he’d seemingly abandoned my training in the last year or so of my time as a Padawan to help her. I’d never trust her completely, but I had found myself empathising with her for what she’d had to have endured, and I hoped Dooku was able to turn her into something useful for us going forward. The same hope I held for Quinlan and Aayla, though neither of them had done anything as twisted as Vosa had. Or so I prayed.

  Refocusing on Aayla, I saw her eyes wander over my frame, her cheeks darkening even as her eyes stayed wet and it didn’t take a genius to know what part of my rescue she was reliving. I’d been found naked and heavily tortured by Bo and the others, and after being freed rushed off to confront Vosa. How I’d acted then had not been my best moment, but as I’d said less than a minute earlier, it was something that had made me who I was today. Still, I’d prefer not to dwell on that memory, or have Aayla do so either. Unless, of course, it helped ensure the pair became more open to me directly retraining them, or more accurately, training them into something that would be of use to me in the years to come.

  “How,” Quinlan began, his voice almost feral before he took a moment and inhaled deeply. “How often does the Order abandon its own?” He managed to get out in a voice barely above a growl even as I felt the Dark Side swirling excitedly around him.

  “I cannot answer that directly,” Dooku replied slowly, seemingly ignoring the anger rising from Quinlan. “However, I will state that the Council believes that no single Jedi, no matter their rank, position, or potential, is important when it comes to what the Force desires. Anyone who can awaken their connection to it is little more than a pawn in his work to achieve balance.”

  “How can they be so callous?” Quinlan snapped, though his anger was subsiding as Aayla grasped his hand with one of hers. “That they would not move to help their friends when they are in danger.”

  “As Master Dooku said, the Council places the Force above the members of the Order. That whatever happens to any of us is the Will of the Force. We serve it and through us, it works to achieve and maintain balance. Even those unable to feel the Force around them are connected to it, and thus under its influence, though those like us who can draw upon that connection, are often tested more… strenuously than the rest of the galaxy. That does not mean that our destinies are written in stone, or that the Force has plans for all of us. We are as alien to it as it is to us, however, we understand that the Force, like anything in nature, seeks balance. However, no one knows what the Force considers balance, or why it desires it if it does indeed desire anything.”

  “To the Council, we are all instruments in servicing and protecting that balance. We are but drops in the river that is life. A river that carries us to an ocean that is the Force where we become even more insignificant in whatever grand scheme the Force has enacted that we were in the river of life. The choice anyone who can access their connection to the Force faces is to decide how to handle being drops in the ocean. The Council and Order believe that being consumed, drowned, or destroyed by the currents of the Force is acceptable. It is the Will of the Force after all.” I sighed there and shook my head to enhance some of my apparent uncertainty and doubt with the Jedi’s way. “And no, before you ask, I don’t think we can change the Will of the Force in the ways the Dark Side might make us believe we can, nor can we redirect the river of life that carries us to the Force. All we can do is take control of our surroundings to ensure that we do not drown easily in the ocean.”

  What I had said was a mix of what I’d learnt from the Jedi and from Adas mixed with an idea I was creating in my mind for how one should live even when connected to the Force. An idea that I knew neither group would entirely approve of.

  “There are many, myself included, who might not describe life and the Force in such a manner,” Dooku said into the void my impromptu speech had created, “Yet it is hard to consider what Cameron has just stated as being entirely incorrect. Be that in how the Order views the Force in relation to the needs and wants of any individual, even those capable of sensing and experiencing the Force, or in how we fail to understand what exactly it is that the Force wants.” Dooku looked at me pointedly. “However, such discussions are best conducted in more… secure locations.”

  “As you say, Master,” I replied in acceptance. Dooku hadn’t revealed anything of his opinions on the Force and our role in it, and how we should live here. However, I had heard him speak before on the matter, and while he had never been as open as I had just been in hinting at doubts about the Order’s approach to the Force, and other things, I knew he agreed with me in principle. That was why I was glad he was willing to at least consider helping me with retraining Quinlan and Aayla.

  The question that I’d have to face in the coming days was what path Dooku would follow once he left the Order, as I knew he would do so as soon as I made clear that was my intention. He wouldn’t be shifting to becoming Darth Tyrannus; however, I knew he wouldn’t support the Republic once war engulfed the galaxy. And it was a question that I’d have to discover the answer to while we planned out our version of a holocron heist.

  … …

  … …

  My feet shifted over the packed soil, sliding back in a Makashi retreat as Dooku’s blue blade darted toward my chest. The saber missed by inches, grazing the air. I stepped to the side and flicked my own blade forward—red with a black, unstable edge—angling it to catch his saber and deflect it outward with a precise parry.

  A counter followed, powered by more strength than a standard Form II repost should carry. My blade glided off his, aiming for the exposed line between his wrist and elbow. But Dooku was already there. His wrist turned, shoulder angling just enough to guide his saber into a clean interception.

  I didn’t expect to land that strike. The move was designed to provoke—testing if he’d bite and follow with a counterthrust. He did. His blade snapped toward me in a sharp line, and I was already in motion, pulling my saber back to defend.

  We circled each other. The Force surged between us—alive, reactive. It bent to my will, whispering the intent behind his movements. I remained grounded in the moment, watching for flaws in his form. Not because I believed they were mistakes, but because even a trap offered information.

  Dooku pressed forward, executing a trio of rapid thrusts with surgical precision. My body moved before conscious thought. One step back. A twist at the waist. My blade rotated on the vertical axis, parrying two attacks and sidestepping the third. I responded in kind—an overhead diagonal slash meant to break his rhythm. He slipped away with a dismissive elegance.

  Each movement was met with a counter. Each strike was followed by a response. We were two minds playing a deadly game of chess, every twitch a feint or invitation. The empty plain around us was silent, save for the electric hiss of colliding sabers and the occasional shift of boots over dry earth.

  We had been fighting for a while—how long, I wasn’t sure. My armour lay aboard Raven, which now hovered somewhere behind us, maybe two hundred meters back. The timestamp on my vambrace was useless. I wasn’t risking a glance.

  Her presence sat faint in the corner of my awareness. Calming. But my focus was locked on Dooku. On the clash of sabers. On the Force thrumming through every fibre of my being.

  This was not the first duel since Natural Selection. But it was the first where I wasn’t holding back. The Force bent more easily now—resisting less, obeying more. Dooku hadn’t commented on my approach, even when I’d drawn on techniques some would label Sith. He’d only watched; eyebrows raised in mild curiosity.

  And now, everything felt different.

  I leaned back, rotating my blade in a low arc to deflect another jab. I advanced with a tight pivot of the hip, pouring weight into my next strike. Djem So—not my primary form, but a brutal counterpoint to Makashi’s finesse. The sudden increase in momentum caught most duellists off guard.

  But Dooku wasn’t like most duellists.

  He slid a foot back, angled his body, and turned my strike aside with almost casual precision. I pivoted under his extended guard, sweeping low toward his legs.

  He retreated again—not out of fear, but calculation. Still, I’d forced a step from him. Progress.

  The Force rippled around us. Dooku drew it in like a trusted ally. I commanded it. My steps shifted into Ataru’s lighter footwork, springing away from another counterattack. I couldn’t stop the smirk from forming.

  No, this wasn’t a duel to the death. But I was at peace in this moment. No internal struggle. No hesitation. Just combat. Pure and clean.

  Dooku inhaled, and the Force deepened around him. His next strike came faster, sharper, and I matched it—blade rising into a textbook Shien deflection before flowing into a Shii-Cho chain. Five hits. Six. A thrust toward his ribs.

  He evaded—not just by movement, but by Force-assisted glide, sliding farther than physics should allow. I raised an eyebrow. That was new.

  His eyes gleamed with amusement.

  We reset. I took a classic Makashi stance—blade centred, arm extended, feet narrow. Dust swirled around our boots, kicked up by earlier footwork and now beginning to settle.

  I reached into the Force. Deeper. It came willingly. My strikes changed—Makashi’s finesse layered with Djem So’s power. I drove him back again, this time a full three steps. My movements didn’t overextend. They stayed tight, dangerous, and focused.

  His defence adjusted. His parries came faster, closer to the hilt. But I stayed with him.

  Matukai breathwork helped me stay grounded, channelling energy without exhausting myself. The world around us seemed to slow. Dust hung in midair. The clash of blades became the only sound in existence.

  My limbs moved faster. My mind sharpened.

  I stepped left, feinted high, and thrust low. He caught it—barely. His saber twisted down to intercept, but I already withdrew and flowed into a new line.

  He adapted instantly, his own counter barely missing my shoulder. Another thrust. I sidestepped and parried. Our sabers locked for a breathless second, the pressure vibrating through our grips.

  He smiled. Just barely.

  I pulled back.

  Then surged forward—right foot stepping past his left, blade rising in a vertical cut meant to push his guard high. As expected, he raised to meet it. I pivoted, blade slicing horizontally for his flank.

  He spun to block, and we separated.

  My lungs burned. My muscles trembled—not from exhaustion, but from the intense current of the Force. It flowed through me faster than I’d ever channelled before.

  But Dooku wasn’t slowing.

  I focused, drawing more from the Force. It came, hot and heavy, threatening to overload me if I lost control. I shifted into pure Makashi again, letting the form dictate tempo. Blade tight. Point aligned. Economy of movement.

  We clashed again—this time with greater violence.

  I noticed it first. His posture opened slightly. A gap—not a feint. Not intentional. I knew this pattern. My sudden burst of pressure had disrupted his tempo. The gap was real.

  I moved.

  Blade up, rotating, angle changing mid-strike.

  He moved to block—but I changed the line. My saber skimmed past his parry and pressed forward. I stepped into the opening, blade aimed for his thigh.

  He gave ground again.

  Three steps.

  I had him.

  For the first time in any duel, I pushed Count Dooku fully on the defensive.

  The Force roared in my ears. I chased him, sabers clashing, light strobing red and blue across the plain. His defence was perfect—but he had to defend. No offence. No room.

  Then—there it was. The opening widened.

  I lunged.

  But something changed.

  The Force shifted. I felt it an instant before it happened. I twisted my wrist, blade dropping into a parry just in time to redirect a strike aimed at my leg.

  He hadn’t been passive. He’d baited me.

  Still, I wasn’t done. My wrist rolled, blade snapping down, dropping low again—this time for a strike to his thigh.

  His stance was too wide. He couldn’t withdraw his leg in time.

  And then—heat.

  I froze.

  My blade struck his thigh. His struck air. Close to my throat.

  Too close.

  “Kriff.”

  The curse tore from me before I could stop it. I could feel the warmth of his blade across my neck. A millimetre deeper and I’d be dead.

  I’d won. And lost. At the same time.

  I held my ground. My blade pressed lightly to his leg. His hovered at my neck. Neither moved.

  My breath came fast. Rage bubbled—hot and bitter. I’d had it. I’d had him.

  I closed my eyes and pushed it away.

  This wasn’t the time for ego.

  When I opened them, Dooku was still watching me—silent. His saber hummed low, unmoving. But I saw it—barely—his chest rising faster than usual. His presence in the Force flickering at the edges. He was winded. Pushed.

  I gave him a small nod. The universal signal: I yield.

  He stepped back and deactivated his saber. I followed suit.

  "You have improved greatly,” he said. His tone was calm. Steady. But I heard the edge of respect underneath. “Impressively so in such a short time. However,…” He tilted his head. “I am not yet ready to see you surpass me.”

  I offered a tired grin.

  “Noted,” I replied with a small smile.

  Dooku grunted; his only acknowledgement to my statement that we both knew to be true. Once his hilt was clipped to his waist, he moved forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. “That day, as much as I seek to delay it, will come. You are the greatest Padawan I have trained, and the perfect legacy to ensure my knowledge of Makashi is retained in the decades to come. You have the technical skill of the form and others, to rival any I have ever sparred with, all that remains, as you are aware, is experience in spars and duels that take you to the very limit of what you are capable of.”

  “Thank you, Master,” I said, lowering my head at his words; aware of the pride he felt in saying them, along with the honour he was bestowing upon me. I grinned after lifting my head. “I thought for a few moments that I had you, Master.”

  Dooku allowed a fractional grin to spread on his face as I felt him squeeze my shoulder. “Perhaps you did, and if I was not the one who had trained you, and seen the growth you have undergone since Naboo and your defeat of the Zabrak Sith there, you might have. Unfortunately for you, I am aware of every change you have undergone and every ounce of skill you have gained with the blade, and thus could turn the potential of defeat into the certainty of victory.” He held my gaze as his hand slipped from my shoulder. “Nor did it escape my notice that, as you enjoyed the spar, you drew on the Force in a way many in the Order would have grave concerns about.”

  “Master, I…” The raising of his hand stopped me from explaining why I had, in many ways, acted like a Sith in demanding the Force’s obedience instead of working with it as a Jedi should. However, as I waited for his reply, I realised that in the later moments of the duel, he too had made the Force work for him instead of with him.

  “Cameron, as you are well aware, there are a great many things I disagree with the Order about.” I held my tongue. “However, when we last sparred, I sensed you struggling to maintain control over yourself and used techniques that made the darkness within you more prominent. I was concerned that you might lose yourself to whatever changes you were undergoing. After this spar, while I still sense your use of methods the Order would consider heretical at best, I am pleased to know you have control of yourself and your emotions; enough that I do not fear you losing control and allowing the Force to consume you.”

  He turned at that and began the long walk back to Raven, who I realised was a little over five kilometres away around a hill we had seemingly circled while focused on our spar. I quickly moved to fall into step at his side, though a half metre back. He offered a small smile at my action and then gestured for me to walk beside him as an equal, something I gladly accepted.

  “Since I was a Padawan, I have found myself at odds with many of the ideals the Order, at least in its current form, obeys. Before you arrived at the Temple, I had been heavily considering if I should remain with the Order, though the Force ensured those thoughts were diminished once I understood my next role was in training you. However, with your knighthood, and your victory on Naboo, I have once again found myself considering the path I am on, the injustices in the galaxy that the Order and others fail to address, and the legacy I wish to leave when my time in this galaxy, decades from now, comes to an end.”

  He turned to look at me as we kept walking. “Since Naboo, while I had been questioning the path I am travelling, my thoughts were often focused on you, I had been concerned, understandably, by the shift towards what the Order would consider a darker method to achieving the goals that you have taken in your training of yourself and your Pada… your son.” He paused for a moment. “I now see, happily, that your journey will not take you down a road to the darkest depths that the Force can use to consume the destiny of those who can use it, nor, though this was never a great concern for me, of you aligning with the Sith we know that are seeking to destroy the Order and Republic.”

  “Master, I…” I paused as I sensed the Force shifting around us, and closed my eyes for a moment. The Force had been in motion near me ever since I agreed to help Quinlan, with moments like this where it was more active; as if hinting that these were moments when I could alter not just the road I was taking, but those of others who walked near to me. Of course, if not for the Interface generating the A Change in Path quest I might not have realised that as soon as I had. Nor would I see that the quest name referred not just to Quinlan and Aayla, but to myself and even Dooku.

  “Since not long after Naboo I have been… studying and learning from an ancient Sith holocron,” I continued cautiously. I knew Dooku wouldn’t seek to take Adas’ holocron from me, nor take me before the Jedi for questioning, but I was taking a risk. One that, as the Force seemed to rise around us, was about to have a permanent effect on my relationship with my former Master. “I’m not using it heavily, just seeking advice on how to accelerate my training with the various sects and groups I’ve visited for training with Anakin while searching inwards for some sort of balance that I now feel I’ve found.”

  We continued in silence for a few minutes as I allowed Dooku time to ponder what I’d revealed. Telling him what I had was, in many ways, a dangerous move, but I felt certain he would accept what had happened, though not without concern.

  “It is troubling that you admit to learning from a Sith holocron, Cameron. Not just because it is affecting your development, but that of your Padawan as well. Even though I expect you are aware, you should never trust anything any Sith, alive or as the gatekeeper of a holocron, say. They will seek to use and manipulate you to serve whatever goals and ideals they hold themselves to.” He paused there and I felt a gentle probe slide along the bond we shared within the Force.

  Wanting to reassure him that I’d not fallen into the madness of the Dark Side and that I was in control of my actions, I lowered my defences enough that he could explore the outer edges of my mind without difficulty. My thoughts on what I was slowly deciding for my future, and that of Anakin and others, were buried deep, far from his notice, while any knowledge I had that came from before being placed in this timeline was protected by the Interface.

  I felt his probe shifting through the readily available thoughts, and it was clear he was searching for information about what I’d learnt from Adas, and what effect that had caused to my psyche. I allowed him the freedom to search those outer layers as we walked, wanting to assure him that I wasn’t lost in the depths of the Dark Side and to reassure myself that I’d not been influenced in ways I didn’t realise by Adas.

  After nearly ten minutes, I felt the probe pull back and Dooku opened his eyes, stopped, and turned to face me so he could examine me carefully. There was no hint of anything more than concern from him emanating into the Force, which was reassuring. However, it was the faint hint of curiosity that caught my attention; as if Dooku wished to speak, or possibly even learn from Adas himself.

  “While your defences are sufficient to ensure that no surface probe would detect the changes you have undergone, anyone with the skill and power could breach them and learn the truth. You have been, as you are aware, influenced by this Sith holocron, though I cannot sense any clear sign that you’ve fallen under their sway any more so than one might when seeking knowledge from a restricted source.

  “This path I sense you are taking is one that the Order will not accept, but again, you are aware of that. That said, I can sense that you feel that to defeat the threat posed by the looming darkness in the Force, and the influence the Sith of the lineage of Darth Bane hold over the Republic, and by connection, the Order, you need to use every tool at your disposal.”

  “I do, Master, and I am well aware that the Council will not approve of my methods; both those I’ve already taken and those that I know I will have to in the coming years.”

  Dooku allowed a small grunt of amusement to slip from his mouth. “No, they would not. However, as you are well aware, my opinions on a variety of matters do not align with those of the Council. One such matter that you would be aware of would be the direction the Order should take in seeking out the Master of the Sith you defeated on Naboo.”

  I felt my brow rise at his words. “You are in contact with the Council?” That was unexpected, and given what I’d just revealed, potentially dangerous. While I didn’t sense Dooku was going to report my learning from a Sith holocron to them, the fact he still spoke to several of the members, even if just about the looming threat posed by the Banite Sith, was unexpected.

  Before he could directly reply, Raven came into sight and the stray thought occurred to me that during the duel with Dooku, I had been aware that we had moved away from her, but not how far. I had lost myself in the spar, and while that had not been an issue today, there might well come a day when it would, and thus I’d have to learn to be more aware of my surroundings even when focused entirely on defeating my opponent. Failure to be cognisant of your location was a lesson that had been driven into my skull across two lifetimes.

  “With Masters Windu and Yoda,” He explained as we started the final walk towards my ship “They share my concern that the presence of the Zabrak on Naboo might signal a return of the Sith. However, they refuse to act as I feel they should to prepare the Order and galaxy for the threat of this new Sith Order. Nor do they believe that the one you fought has any connection to Darth Bane. According to the records, he was killed only a few years after the Seventh Battle of Ruusan.”

  “I believe that was a ploy, Master, one designed to hide their presence while this Banite line of Sith chose to break with the past and work in small numbers from the shadows.”

  “I share that opinion, Cameron, however, the Council does not. We can discuss this fully at a later date. For now, I wish to discuss what your plans are for the future, how the changes you have undergone affect the plans we created alongside Master Fay and others, and your hints that you approved the concept of liberating items from the Temple Archives that might offer insight and powers to help us face the looming threat of the Banite Sith.”

  “Yes, the knowledge the Council has locked away may well be of use. However, while I wish to help you in the acquisition of such holocrons, or any other object in the secure vaults, I feel that while I can hide the changes I’ve undergone from most surface probes if any Master chooses to probe more deeply, they will undoubtedly discover the changes that have occurred to me. To say nothing of facing even a single member of the Council.”

  “No, your defences would not stand up to the probes of the Council or other senior Jedi. Still, it is encouraging to hear that even after defeating the Dark Jedi Volfe Karkko, you remain aware of your shortcomings. As is the fact you knew it was wiser to depart before Master Saa arrived, both because of the power you used to defeat Karkko, and the understanding you could not yet defeat her.” He paused and looked at me even as we continued to walk. “In time, I know you will be able to, do not fear, but you are not quite at the level to be considered a true threat to most Jedi Masters.”

  I nodded, accepting his opinion, and not just because it was one I agreed with. “About the Council… when Master Saa realises that it was me who defeated Karkko and drew on the Dark Side to do so, they’re going to send teams after me, aren’t they?”

  “If you remain within the Order, that is certain. Even if you resigned, which I feel is a choice you are committed to making, they might still do so. However, while by Republic law all Force users are under the supervision of the Order, the Council generally chooses to not intervene in any Force sect so long as it keeps itself isolated from the wider galaxy and doesn’t become a threat to the Order or Republic.”

  “I could just disappear with Anakin, Master. Stay in the Outer Rim, keeping as far from major systems as possible while I continue training myself and my son.”

  Dooku gave a single, brief chortle at my suggestion. “You very well could, Cameron. However, I know you will not.” He stopped and turned fully to face me. “Master Fay and I trained you to hold more respect, for yourself and others, than that. No, regardless of the threat it poses to you, you will state to the Council in person your intention to leave the Order as your ideals no longer align with theirs. As will I.”

  I blinked, caught out by the declaration. I mean, I knew it was only a matter of time until he left the Order, but that he was prepared to do so at the same time as me, and shield me from the Council was unexpected. “Master, I… You don’t have to do this.”

  Dooku chortled again and moved closer. “Cameron, as I have said many times, including not more than a few minutes ago, I have known for many years that my path would not remain in step with the Order. It was because the Force guided me to you, and implied it wanted me to train you, that I have remained a Jedi as long as I have instead of planning my departure at an earlier date. I have trained several Padawans, Cameron; all of whom, even Komari in some small way, I am proud of. However, it is through you that I see a way to define myself and my legacy.” He extended a hand. “When the time comes for you to stand before the Council and resign as a Jedi, I will do so with you.”

  My hand moved out slowly. “It would be my honour to stand at your side in that moment, Master,” I said as I grasped his forearm.

  By doing this, Dooku was taking the Council’s attention, or most of it at any rate, off of me. Yes, to some in the Order I was the potential Chosen One, however, in the eyes of the Council, I was just a young and powerful Knight, whereas Dooku was one of their most revered Jedi Masters. When he resigned he would become the twentieth Jedi Master to resign from the Order in the last few thousand years.

  “As you should be,” he replied dryly, though I could sense his amusement through our Force bond. A moment later, he broke the arm clasp. “Before we head to the Temple and announce our departure from the Order, we must discuss what items we wish to take as recompense for our time in the Order.”

  “Yes, Master,” I said as we resumed the remaining short walk to Raven.

  As we moved, my mind pulled forth the various scenarios I’d gone over in my thoughts that had, at least in theory, a slight chance of us succeeding in breaking into the secure holocron vaults, grabbing a dozen or so holocrons – more if I told Dooku about my Inventory and framed it as an odd Force power, or if I was able to use it without him seeing it being used – and then departing the Temple without being apprehended.

  None of the plans were what I’d call good, the best had maybe a ten per cent chance of success, but they should give Dooku something to draw from. At least if he didn’t already have plans created that had better odds of success.

  … …

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