I stopped beside Bo-Katan My eyes never leaving Pre or Death Watch. "Is everyone all right?"
She gave me a brief sideways glance before returning her attention to Pre. "Everyone's fine. Nobody's fired a shot, although a few of his people were stupid enough to think they could intimidate mine." Her voice lowered. "He wanted us to know he was here. Made a point of identifying himself and announcing that he wouldn't leave until you arrived."
"Any threats?"
She frowned. "Nothing that counts as a direct one. Which is what worries me. This isn't how Pre usually operates when he thinks he has the advantage."
I nodded, studying the Death Watch leader again. "Understood."
Pre spread his arms. "And I don't even get a hello? Talk about a warm family reunion."
I slowly turned toward him. "Don't confuse shared blood with family, Pre. You and I are not kin in any way that matters."
His amused expression diminished slightly. "That's a rather unpleasant way to greet your uncle."
"You're the man who betrayed my mother, and the True Mandalorian's, and tried to have me killed before I was old enough to understand anything."
Several Death Watch warriors shifted uncomfortably. Pre's jaw tightened, then he raised one finger. "Correction. My brother was responsible for the actual killing, on both accounts, I only helped with the second part."
My eyes narrowed. "And you expect that distinction to mean something to me?"
"It should, considering you're supposed to be an intelligent young man." His voice remained controlled, but the humor had disappeared. "Tor wanted Selene and those loyal to her removed. He believed she was dividing our warriors and weakening House Vizsla and the True Mandalorians by entertaining compromises with people who would never accept our traditions. I disagreed with some of his conclusions, but when he decided to act, I wasn't there."
I stared at him. "You weren't there."
"No."
"But you knew."
A silence followed. Pre regarded me carefully, and then he answered. "I knew my brother wanted them gone. I knew their disagreements had reached a point where words were becoming useless." He paused. "And I didn't stop him."
Bo-Katan's expression hardened. "You knew more than that."
Pre glanced toward her. "Careful, Bo."
"No I don't listen to you anymore, and you don't get to tell me to be careful after everything you've done." She took a step forward. "Selene trusted both of you. She believed you could help rebuild Mandalore into something better than another collection of mercenaries looking for the next war."
"She believed a great many things Bo."
"And you let Tor murder her and those who followed her because you were too afraid to choose between your brother and the woman who held our people together."
Pre's eyes narrowed. "Do not mistake my restraint for fear."
Bo gave a humorless laugh. "Then what would you call it?"
He didn't answer immediately, instead, he looked toward me. "Whatever Bo thinks of my decisions, I had no desire to see you dead, Cain. If I'd known Selene's son survived, I would have brought you into House Vizsla myself raised in our ways as a foundling myself."
I felt my fingers tighten. He would have raised me, the possibility was almost laughable.
I'd grown up in the Jedi Temple, surrounded by people who had taught me compassion, restraint, and the responsibilities of power. I'd met Anakin, Seris, Barriss, and Derren, formed relationships that had become more important than anything I'd imagined possible, and eventually discovered the truth about the galaxy I inhabited.
What would my life have become if Pre Vizsla had found me first, how would my knowledge of this world have changed things on Mandalore? Would I have still met Anakin, Derren, Barriss, or Seris?
The thought passed quickly. There was no point mourning a childhood that had never happened. "Funny," I replied. "You say you wanted me alive, yet you allowed everyone to believe my mother's bloodline had ended."
Pre's expression changed slightly. Then he shrugged. "I can't change what happened. But I can decide what happens next." He began circling slowly, his boots pressing into the damp soil. "And that's why I'm here."
I remained motionless. "Then talk."
Pre smiled. "I've been hearing quite a lot about you, young foundling." His eyes moved toward Anakin, Seris, and Derren. "A Jedi prodigy who abandoned Coruscant, gathered powerful followers, and established a new Order on the very world where the ancient Je'daii first sought understanding of the Force."
He looked back toward me. "That's quite an achievement for someone who hasn't even reached adulthood."
"Get to the point."
"Patience. I'm getting there." He folded his arms. "I have been hearing reports for months. An unusually influential young Sephi Jedi negotiating with the Green Jedi of Corellia, recruiting Mandalorians, Dathomir Witches, funding military clone army development, and establishing connections throughout the Mid Rim and Outer Rim."
Pre glanced toward Bo. "And apparently the first thing he did was convincing some of my most capable warriors that following him is preferable to remaining loyal to Death Watch."
Bo's expression remained cold. "That wasn't particularly difficult."
He ignored her. "Then there's Lord Noctis."
I kept my expression neutral. Pre noticed the name had caught my attention, but he couldn't possibly know why.
"A mysterious armored figure inspire by Revan with considerable charisma, resources, powerful intelligence networks, and enough political connections to make several important people very nervous. He's been supporting anti-slavery movements, intervening in criminal operations, and gathering allies who believe the Republic has become too corrupt to protect them." Pre smiled faintly. "And somehow, you keep appearing wherever his interests are involved."
"Perhaps we have similar goals." I said slyly.
"Perhaps." His expression suggested he didn't believe in coincidences. "Now, Mandalore has begun experiencing something I haven't seen in years. Real economic growth. New investments. Expanded resource surveys. Two major discoveries of beskar deposits and several additional mineral resources have given our people opportunities they haven't possessed in generations."
He gestured broadly. "The Duchess calls it the beginning Mandalores second golden age."
"Good for her."
Pre's mouth tightened. "Don't be deliberately obtuse, Cain. You know exactly what I'm talking about."
I did.
Satine's government had benefited considerably from new economic developments, and some of those developments had been encouraged through my own legends from the novels to where she could find rich depositories on the planet and other ones. That's to these industrial expansion, new resource discoveries, and access to technical expertise had begun restoring confidence in Mandalore's future. With gave more money to my order, and government efforts.
Unfortunately, prosperity didn't automatically resolve centuries of political resentment.
Mandalore remained divided between people who believed absolute pacifism was the only path away from endless warfare and those who regarded abandoning their martial traditions as surrendering everything that made them Mandalorian.
Between those positions were growing numbers of people who wanted something different. They wanted the right to defend themselves without becoming conquerors. The right to preserve their culture without treating the rest of the galaxy as potential enemies. And increasingly, they wanted an end to the criminal organizations that had profited from Mandalorian instability for generations.
Pre had noticed, of course he had.
"Your activities are attracting attention," he continued. "Not all of it welcome. Several major houses have begun discussing whether House Vizsla should take a more active role in these developments." He paused. "And there are rumors that Noctis intends to support the creation of an entirely new political alliance among the independent systems of the Rim."
I raised an eyebrow. "Rumors?"
"Don't insult me Cain." Pre took another step forward. "You're gathering influence, Cain. The kind of influence that frightens powerful people around the galaxy."
"People like Count Dooku?"
For the first time, Pre's smile became genuinely amused. "Very Good Cain. Especially the dear Count."
I watched him carefully. "What does he want?"
"Nothing subtle. He wants you dead, and he'd very much appreciate it if Lord Noctis followed you into the grave."
Bo-Katan's hand moved slightly toward her blaster, and Anakin stiffened beside me.
Pre noticed their reactions and laughed. "Relax. I haven't accepted every condition of his proposal."
I narrowed my eyes. "Meaning?"
"Meaning I'm perfectly willing to kill Noctis if the opportunity presents itself. He's a dangerous individual whose ambitions could eventually threaten Mandalorian independence." Pre's expression became more serious. "But killing you is off the table."
I stared at him. "Why not finish what your brother started?"
For several seconds, Pre said nothing. "Because I'm not Tor." His voice was quieter. "And because you're Selene's son."
I felt a bitter smile form. "That's supposed to reassure me?"
"No. It's supposed to make you listen." He gestured toward the assembled Mandalorians. "Look at the writing on the wall, Cain. You're becoming exactly what Mandalore needs."
Pre's voice gained strength. "A Jedi born of House Vizsla. A warrior raised beyond the petty grudges of our clans. Someone with the blood of our ancient leaders and enough influence among the Republic's worlds to command attention." He took another step. "You're the closest thing we've seen to a second coming of Tarre Vizsla."
Pre extended his hand. "Come with me."
I didn't move, and he continued. "Let me teach you the ways of our people. Not just the basics Bo-Katan has shown you, but the politics of the clans, their loyalties, their histories, and what it truly means to lead Mandalorians."
Bo's expression darkened. "Cain, don't listen to him."
Pre ignored her. "I'll introduce you publicly as my heir. House Vizsla will rally behind you, and once the other houses recognize your legitimacy, even the Duchess will have difficulty maintaining her position."
His expression became almost fervent. "Mandalore will remember what it once meant to be strong and united."
I studied his extended hand. "And you'll be standing behind me, pulling the strings?"
Pre's eyes narrowed. "No. I will be your advisor and confidant."
I almost laughed. There was something disturbingly sincere about the distinction in his mind. Pre didn't necessarily want to rule through me because he believed I was weak. He wanted to guide me because he believed his vision of Mandalore was the only one worth pursuing.
He could surrender the throne as long as he retained influence over the person occupying it. And he probably believed that would be enough.
"Think about it," Pre continued. "We could unite Mandalore under House Vizsla, just as Tarre did. Your influence, my experience, the loyalty of Death Watch, and the resources you've already gathered."
He paused. "I would even surrender the Darksaber to you."
That made several warriors exchanged surprised glances.
Pre noticed but continued. "All you have to do is take my hand." He extended it farther. "We can end slavery, destroy the criminal syndicates poisoning the Outer Rim, and forge an alliance powerful enough to make the Republic listen."
His voice lowered.
"Imagine standing before the Galactic Senate with Mandalore united behind you. They wouldn't see another young Jedi making demands. They'd see a ruler whose people were prepared to fight for his words."
I remained silent. Because the most irritating part of his proposal was that he wasn't entirely wrong.
With Mandalore united behind me, I could gain extraordinary political leverage. Combined with my growing network of allies and the resources associated with Lord Noctis, I might possess enough influence to challenge the Republic's corruption openly.
The Senate would find it considerably harder to dismiss me. But the future Pre wasn't describing was the one I could already see forming. If I accepted his proposal, Death Watch would gain immediate legitimacy through my name. Its most violent elements would claim that I supported their methods.
The pacifists would regard my alliance with Pre as an existential threat, while the newly emerging anti-slavery faction would become trapped between competing claims of loyalty. And Mandalore could descend into civil war. And I'd find myself standing opposite Satine, Bo-Katan, and perhaps Obi-Wan, fighting people who wanted many of the same things I did.
No. I'd spent too many years trying to prevent that sort of future. I wasn't about to create it merely because Pre Vizsla offered me a shortcut to power.
Bo stepped forward. "He's lying, Cain. He'll use you until you become inconvenient, and then he'll take everything you've built."
Pre looked toward her. "He's not a child anymore, Bo. And you're hardly in a position to lecture anyone about loyalty." His gaze moved over the warriors standing behind her. "Look where you are. Standing beside a Jedi, wearing Mandalorian armor, and preparing to betray the people you once swore to protect."
Bo-Katan's expression became murderous. "I betrayed them when I followed you."
Pre's eyes narrowed.
"I betrayed Selene when I convinced myself your brother's brutality was necessary. I betrayed everything she taught us when I stopped asking whether our enemies deserved to die."
She stepped closer.
"And I betrayed Mandalore when I allowed Death Watch to become an organization that frightened the very people we claimed to represent."
The clearing grew quiet, as Bo's voice hardened. "Then I met Cain. I fought him, trained him, and eventually accepted him as my foundling. He's done more to honor Selene's principles than either of us managed in years."
Her gaze never left Pre. "He protects people without demanding that they kneel. He fights when he has to, but he understands that winning a war means nothing if you become the monster everyone feared." She shook her head. "That's more than I can say about you."
Pre's expression tightened. For a moment, I thought he might answer. Instead, he looked toward me. "She's made her choice Cain. Now make yours."
His hand remained extended. "Join me, Cain. Together, we can unit and give Mandalore everything it deserves."
I looked at the hand. Then at the Mandalorians watching us. And finally at Bo-Katan, and then Seris who only nodded at me.
I understood what I needed to do. I stepped forward. "Cain?" Bo said sharply.
Ursa shifted beside her. Bo looked toward my friends. "Are you seriously going to let him—"
"Trust him," Anakin replied. His voice was calm. Seris nodded. Derren folded his arms, watching me with an expression of complete confidence.
They didn't know exactly what I intended. Neither did I, until that moment. But they trusted me to make the decision. And I intended to honor that trust.
I stopped three paces away from Pre Vizsla. For a moment, we simply regarded one another. Then I spoke. "I was already planning to unite Mandalore someday."
Pre smiled. "Then your plans have improved." He gestured toward his warriors. "Death Watch will stand beside you. Your enemies will become ours, and together we'll eliminate anyone who threatens the future we're building."
I chuckled.
Pre's smile faltered. "Something amusing?"
"Only that you're talking about eliminating my enemies when I'm looking directly at one."
The clearing went silent.
I allowed the words to settle before continuing. "You may not have personally murdered my mother, Pre. You may not have been holding the weapon when Tor killed my father."
My voice hardened. "But you knew what your brother intended, and you allowed it to happen."
Pre's jaw tightened. "You don't know everything about that day."
"Then perhaps you should've come here prepared to tell me."
I took another step forward. "You could have stopped him. You could have protected Selene, or at least warned her. Instead, you preserved your position and let someone else pay the price."
Pre's expression darkened. "Careful, boy."
I smiled without humor. "That's the difference between us. You wanted to preserve your power, and my mother wanted to give our people a future."
I slowly reached toward my belt.
Bo-Katan stiffened. "Cain."
I ignored her. "Put on your helmet, Pre."
His eyes narrowed. "What?"
I straightened, letting my voice carry across the clearing. "I, Cain, Padawan of the Je'daii of the Eternal Dawn, challenge you for leadership under the traditions of our people."
Several Death Watch warriors shifted in surprise.
Bo stepped forward. "Cain, no! Not here!" He's wearing full beskar, and you don't have access to the Force!"
Another Mandalorian began protesting.
I raised my voice. "Silence!"
The word cracked across the clearing. Even I was surprised by how much authority it carried.
I looked directly at Pre. "Will you answer my challenge and do what you and your brother should have done all those years ago? Will you face me as a Mandalorian?" I paused. "Or will you hide behind your warriors like a coward?"
Pre stared at me, then, slowly, he laughed. It wasn't the mocking laughter I'd expected. There was almost something appreciative about it. "You're just like her." He shook his head. "Those eyes. That stubbornness. The way you look at someone as though you've already decided what sort of man they are."
He lifted his helmet. "Selene used to look at us exactly the same way." For an instant, his expression became distant. Then the moment passed. "Very well, Cain."
He secured the helmet over his head. The seals engaged with a sharp hiss. His voice emerged through the vocoder, deeper and colder. "I accept."
He raised one armored fist. "But don't worry. I won't kill you."
I watched him settle into a combat stance. "I'll break you, strip away those foolish Jedi habits, and forge you into the man you were meant to become."
I tilted my head. "One question before we start."
Pre paused. "Go ahead."
"Does the fact that I'm half-human and half-Sephi bother you? Because I imagine that might complicate your plans for a pure Mandalorian dynasty."
He looked genuinely confused. "Why would it?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Some people get rather upset about mixed species, or aliens in seats of power where humans are the main group."
Pre snorted. "You share my blood and my name. You're a Mandalorian. The rest is irrelevant." He gestured toward my pointed ears. "Your Sephi features merely make you recognizable. And if with your Sephi heritage it means you'll live longer than an ordinary human, which is all the better. House Vizsla could use a leader who doesn't grow old after a few decades."
For a moment, I almost smiled. Well, that's one surprisingly reasonable opinion. Pre struck his armored fist against his chest. " We are Mandalorians until the end your race or species doesn't matter."
I returned the gesture. "Until the end."
Everyone began moving. Death Watch members withdrew toward one side of the clearing, while Bo-Katan's loyalists established themselves opposite them. Together, they formed a wide circle around the area where Pre and I stood.
No formal announcement was necessary. Every Mandalorian present understood what was happening. This wasn't simply a duel between two relatives. It was a contest for authority. A challenge that would determine whether Pre Vizsla retained command over the warriors who had followed him for years. And whether Selene son had the strength to claim something that had been denied to his family.
Pre began circling me. I matched his movements.
His armor was heavier than mine, its beskar plates reinforced around the chest, shoulders, thighs, and forearms. He possessed a height and reach advantage, along with considerably more experience fighting without the Force.
I had youth, agility, and years of training in several martial disciplines. But I also had a damaged left eye. And without the Force, that weakness was going to become very important.
Pre tilted his helmet. "Are you really going to challenge me here, where you can't rely on your Jedi tricks?"
I slowly lowered my center of gravity. "Why do you think we built this place?"
He chuckled. "To train without the Force?"
I nodded raising my hands. "Among other things, now stop talking."
Pre settled into his stance. "As you wish."
And then he attacked. Pre's opening attack came much faster than I expected. He crossed the distance with a short, explosive step, his right fist driving toward my face while his left hand remained close to his chest.
I recognized the combination immediately. It was a conventional Mandalorian close-quarters opening, designed to make an opponent raise their guard before the second hand attacked a less protected target.
I shifted my head outside the punch and attempted to catch his wrist, intending to redirect the movement into a joint lock.
Pre anticipated the technique. He rotated his forearm, using the reinforced beskar plate to break my grip before driving a short left hook toward my ribs.
I twisted away, but the armored fist glanced against my side, as pain flashed through my torso. Damn, he's fast. I answered with a sharp palm strike toward his throat, but Pre lowered his chin and caught the attack against his armored collar.
He stepped inward, his knee rose toward my abdomen.
I shifted my hips, barely avoiding the full impact before driving my elbow toward the side of his helmet. The strike connected with a metallic crack, as pain shot through my arm.
Pre barely moved. He laughed through his vocoder. "You're going to need something stronger than that." He then swung again.
I ducked beneath the attack, pivoted around his leading foot, and delivered a rapid sequence of Teräs Käsi strikes toward the exposed seams beneath his shoulder armor.
The first connected, while the second struck a reinforced plate, and the third forced him to adjust his guard.
For a fraction of a second, I thought I'd created an opening. Then Pre stepped forward and struck me across the face.
His beskar-clad fist connected with the bridge of my nose. A sharp crack exploded through my skull. My vision flashed white, and warm blood immediately poured down my upper lip. I staggered backward, struggling to regain my balance.
Pre followed. He drove another punch toward my head, but I managed to raise my forearm and deflect it just enough to avoid taking the full impact.
His next strike hit my chest. The armor beneath my robes absorbed some of the force, but the blow still knocked the breath from my lungs. I stumbled.
Pre caught my shoulder and attempted to pull me into another knee strike. I twisted free, slamming the heel of my palm into the inside of his elbow before retreating several steps. Blood dripped from my nose onto the damp ground. I wiped my face with the back of my hand.
Well, that answers one question. Fighting Pre Vizsla without the Force was going to be considerably more difficult than fighting Bo-Katan during our earliest training sessions. He had her discipline, much of her technical knowledge, and several additional years of experience. And unlike Bo, he wasn't attempting to teach me anything. He wanted to win and break me.
He attacked again. This time, I didn't attempt to meet his offense directly.
I shifted into the flowing principles of Echani martial arts, allowing my movement to respond to the rhythm of his attacks instead of attempting to impose my own.
Pre struck toward my head. I redirected his arm and stepped around his leading shoulder. He followed with a powerful hook. I slipped beneath it, catching his wrist long enough to deliver two sharp strikes against the vulnerable section beneath his armpit.
Pre grunted. I immediately pivoted and sent a low kick toward the back of his knee. His leg buckled slightly. But before I could exploit the opening, he twisted and drove a reinforced elbow toward my ribs.
I attempted to block, but the impact broke through my guard. A sharp pain erupted beneath my right arm, and I felt something shift unpleasantly inside my chest. That might be a rib.
Pre followed with a brutal kick that struck me across the abdomen. I was lifted from my feet and sent skidding across the damp clearing. My shoulder struck the ground first. I rolled twice before catching myself on one knee.
For several seconds, I struggled to breathe. The kick had knocked most of the air from my lungs, and every attempt to inhale sent a sharp pain through my side.
Across the clearing, Pre slowly lowered his leg.
"You're talented. I'll give you that." He began approaching. "But talent doesn't make you a warrior."
I spat blood onto the ground. "Funny. Master Kuro says something similar."
Pre tilted his helmet. "Then perhaps I should meet her."
"Trust me. You wouldn't enjoy the experience."
He lunged. I barely managed to evade his opening strike, twisting sideways before answering with a rapid combination of Echani attacks. My fists moved toward the vulnerable joints of his armor, striking beneath his elbow, near his collar, and along the exposed section of his upper thigh.
Pre reacted quickly, but the change in rhythm caught him off guard. I followed with a spinning back kick aimed toward his chest.
He blocked it with both forearms. The impact forced him backward half a step. I immediately advanced.
My right hand flashed toward his visor, drawing his guard upward while my left fist struck toward the narrow gap beneath his ribs.
The blow connected, and Pre grunted. I followed with another strike, this time using the heel of my palm to attack the side of his helmet.
His head snapped slightly to one side. For a brief moment, I felt the advantage shifting. Then Pre caught my wrist. His armored fingers tightened.
Before I could disengage, he twisted my arm and drove his knee into my already injured side. The pain was immediate and blinding, I gasped.
Pre released my wrist only to strike me across the cheek with the back of his fist. My head whipped sideways. I stumbled. A second punch struck my shoulder. Then he drove a short kick into my thigh, disrupting my balance before following with a powerful blow toward my abdomen.
I barely managed to retreat. I noticed he was reading me to well. My Echani training allowed me to interpret his body language, but Pre possessed enough experience to recognize the same patterns. He was adapting to my movements quicker then I was to him. And he had the luxury of making mistakes that his armor would forgive. I didn't.
From the edge of the clearing, Anakin shifted forward. "He's taking too many hits." Anakin turned toward Seris. "Seris...."
Her expression was tense. "I know, but if we interfere, Cain's challenge becomes meaningless. PLus then everyone would jump in as well."
Derren watched silently, his hands clenched. Bo-Katan looked as though she wanted to shoot Pre herself. But none of them moved.
Pre advanced again, his movements confident. I retreated toward the edge of the clearing, allowing him to follow while studying the ground beneath our feet.
The soil was damp. There were shallow depressions filled with rainwater, loose roots, and patches of mud where the surrounding vegetation prevented the soil from drying properly. Well, if I can't overpower him, I'll have to make him work.
Pre lunged. I stepped sideways, deliberately allowing my heel to slide across a patch of wet soil. He interpreted the movement as a mistake. His next punch came directly toward my face. I ducked beneath it, planted one hand against the ground, and launched myself into a rapid inverted kick.
My heel struck the side of his helmet. Pre staggered half a step. I continued the rotation, using the momentum to scoop a handful of mud from the ground. As I landed, I threw it directly across his visor. The dark sludge splattered against the transparisteel.
Pre cursed. "You little...." I tackled him before he could finish. My shoulder struck his lower abdomen, driving him backward as I wrapped my arms around his waist and used the momentum to force him onto the ground.
The impact shook the surrounding soil. I landed on top of him. For a fraction of a second, he attempted to catch my arms.
I shifted my weight, trapping one wrist beneath my knee while delivering a rapid series of hammerfist strikes toward the exposed spaces around his shoulder and neck armor.
The first struck his collar. While the second landed against the narrow section of his upper arm. And the third connected with the edge of his helmet.
Pre grunted. I shifted again, attempting to attack the gap beneath his jaw. He blocked with his free hand. I struck his wrist aside and hammered another blow toward his neck.
The fight had become ugly, there was no elegance in it. No beautiful sequence of lightsaber movements, no reassuring guidance from the Force. Only mud, blood, and two people who were supposed to be family desperately trying to impose their will upon one another.
My breathing became ragged. The pain in my ribs made every movement difficult, but I refused to loosen my grip.
Pre's helmet tilted toward me. Then I heard a familiar mechanical whine.
Oh, damn. His jetpack ignited. A violent burst of propulsion lifted both of us from the ground.
I instinctively tightened my grip as Pre shot upward between the trees. The sudden acceleration nearly tore my arms from their sockets. Wind rushed past my face. Pre twisted sharply, attempting to throw me away.
I held on.
He banked toward a massive tree trunk, forcing me to shift my body to avoid being crushed against the bark. Then he reversed direction. The acceleration dragged my injured side across his armor. I cried out through clenched teeth.
I hate jetpacks. Pre rolled sideways, and my fingers slipped against the mud coating his equipment. I tried to regain my grip, but the combination of blood, sweat, and wet soil made it almost impossible.
Pre twisted again, which made my left hand slipped free. Then my right, for an instant, I was falling. A thick tree trunk rushed toward me.
I struck it shoulder-first, as pain exploded through my upper body. The impact knocked the remaining air from my lungs, and I felt myself tumbling backward through the branches.
Before I could hit the ground, Pre swooped beneath me. His armored hand caught the back of my robes. For one absurd moment, I thought he'd decided to save me. Then he swung his arm, and threw me downward.
I struck the earth hard enough to carve a shallow furrow through the mud. The impact sent a wave of pain through my back and ribs.
My vision blurred. For several seconds, I couldn't draw a proper breath. Pre landed several meters away, his jetpack engines winding down.
He looked toward me. "Not bad."
I rolled onto my side, coughing. "Shut..." I struggled to inhale. "...up."
Pre chuckled. "You're tough, Cain. Tougher than I expected." He began walking toward me. "But this is your limit."
I slowly pushed myself onto one knee. My entire body hurt like hell. Blood continued dripping from my nose, my left shoulder throbbed where I'd struck the tree, and the pain beneath my ribs was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. I need to change the fight.
Pre stopped several paces away. "Yield. You don't need to die proving something your mother already understood."
I looked up. "What?"
"That courage without the strength to support it gets good people killed." His voice hardened. "I watched Selene make that mistake. I won't watch you repeat it."
I wiped the blood from my mouth. "Then stop talking and fight."
Pre sighed. "Stubborn little fool." He stepped forward.
I then moved my left hand. A vibroblade knife flashed into view. Pre reacted instantly, raising his forearm to intercept what he expected to be a desperate slash. Instead, I rotated the weapon and brought it toward the exposed joint beneath his armored elbow. The vibrating edge struck with a sharp metallic whine.
Pre withdrew his arm, his helmet tilted toward my hand. Then toward his belt. One of his knives was missing.
I smiled through bloody teeth. "Looking for something uncle?"
Pre laughed. "Well played."
While he'd been distracted during our earlier grappling exchange, I'd managed to remove one of the vibroknives from his belt. Unfortunately, stealing a weapon and knowing how to use it against someone wearing beskar were two different problems.
Pre adjusted his stance. "Let's see if Bo taught you how to handle that properly."
I reached toward my face and removed the eyepatch covering my scarred left eye. The familiar fabric came away. For a moment, I blinked against the sunlight. Normally, my damaged eye perceived the world through the unusual combination of Force-light and Shatterpoint awareness that had developed after Dooku scarred me. But inside the ysalamiri field, those extraordinary senses were absent, and all that remained was the eye itself. Its physical vision was blurred, and the scar tissue made focusing difficult. I could distinguish light, movement, and broad shapes, but almost nothing more.
Pre noticed immediately, as he smiled beneath his helmet.
He attacked my left side. I anticipated the movement and shifted my weight, bringing the vibrating blade upward in a defensive slash. Pre caught it against his forearm armor.
Metal shrieked against beskar, as sparks scattered. Before I could recover, his knee struck my abdomen. Pain tore through my injured ribs and I bent forward.
Pre attempted to seize my wrist, but I rotated beneath his arm and drove a short elbow toward his helmet.
The impact connected as pain shot through my own elbow. Damn this fucking armor!
Pre staggered slightly. I followed with another strike, using the knife in a compact Echani pattern designed to exploit the small gaps between armored plates. He withdrew his arm and countered with a short punch.
I avoided it, as my blade flashed toward his neck.
He leaned away. The vibrating edge scraped across his collar guard.
Pre answered with a low kick. I shifted aside and attempted to cut toward his exposed thigh.
He caught my wrist, but I twisted free.
Our movements became increasingly rapid, the knife flashing between us as we exchanged blows at extremely close range. I used my free hand to strike his joints and redirect his attacks, while Pre relied upon armored blocks, powerful punches, and aggressive attempts to force me into grappling range.
At one point, he caught my left wrist and attempted to twist the blade from my grip. I stepped inward instead of retreating. My right palm struck his elbow, causing the joint to bend awkwardly.
Pre grunted. I rotated my wrist and slashed upward. The vibrating edge caught the narrow seam between his neck guard and helmet. A thin line of blood appeared.
Pre recoiled for the first time, I heard genuine pain in his voice. "Ah!"
I followed immediately. Using the last of my momentum, I launched myself forward and drove a flying knee toward his helmet. The impact connected beneath his jaw. Pre stumbled backward several steps before falling heavily against a low stone outcropping.
I landed awkwardly as my injured side screamed in protest. For a moment, I thought I'd managed to turn the fight. Then a sharp, unfamiliar pain spread through my abdomen.
I looked down. A vibroknife was embedded beneath my ribs, and my eyes widened. When did he—?
I hadn't seen the attack. It must have been during our final exchange, Pre must have drawn another concealed knife and driven it into my side while I was attempting the flying knee. The blade had penetrated beneath my armor.
Blood spread across my robes. I gasped, staggering backward. The pain was far worse than anything I'd experienced during the earlier exchanges. My fingers closed around the hilt, I knew pulling it free was dangerous, leaving it embedded might help limit the bleeding. But the weapon was vibrating, and every movement threatened to drive it deeper. I deactivated the blade before carefully withdrawing it.
The moment it came free, blood began flowing more heavily. I pressed my hand against the wound.
No. My knees trembled. This is bad.
Across the clearing, Bo-Katan took a sharp step forward. "Cain!"
Anakin was already moving before Seris caught his arm. "Don't!"
"He's bleeding bad!"
"You think I can't see that!"
Derren reached toward his communicator.
"We need a medical team."
Pre slowly rose from the ground. He touched the damaged seam beneath his helmet. When his fingers came away, they were stained with blood. For several seconds, he studied it. Then he looked toward me.
"Well, my heir." His voice carried a mixture of admiration and disappointment. "You have fought very well considering you had no jedi tricks to fall back on."
I struggled to remain standing.
Pre approached slowly. "But this is where it ends."
I could barely focus on him.
My good eye had begun blurring from blood loss, while the damaged left eye offered little more than indistinct movement. I attempted to straighten, but my knees buckled. I caught myself with one hand against the ground. Damn it!
Pre stopped a few paces away.
"Yield, now Cain."
I shook my head. "Not..." My voice sounded distant. "...yet."
He sighed. "You're every bit as stubborn as Selene was. Do not make me kill you boy."
I tried to rise, but my body refused. The pain in my side was becoming strangely distant, replaced by a cold numbness spreading through my limbs. And without the Force, I had no way to accelerate my healing or reinforce my failing body.
Is this really how it ends? I'd come so far, fought so hard. I'd built an entire Praxeum, gathered allies from across the galaxy, and begun changing events that were supposed to have ended in tragedy. I'd reunited Anakin with his mother. I'd helped Obi-Wan and Satine rediscover a future together. And I'd given my friends a place where they could become something greater than the roles history had assigned them.....
Yet here I was, on my knees in the mud. Bleeding beneath the boots of a man who had once allowed my mother to die. After everything... does any of it matter?
I clenched my fist, and the answer came immediately. Of course it matters. But caring wasn't enough. Wanting to protect people wasn't enough. I'd seen what waited beyond the paths of ordinary history.
Abeloth. And the countless cycles in which some older version of myself had fought, failed, and watched everything he'd loved disappear. I remembered the sight of Seris's lifeless body being used like a grotesque puppet. I remembered the burning ruins of Tython as Plo Koon died in my future self's arms. And the terrible certainty that somewhere beyond my understanding, she was waiting for me to repeat the same mistakes.
Dammit I need more power. My breathing became ragged. Enough to break the chains of these cycles and to protect them.
I lowered my head, and suddenly, the world began to change. At first, I thought I was losing consciousness. The sounds of the forest became distant, as though someone had lowered an invisible barrier between me and the world.
The sounds of the rushing waterfall faded. Even the pain in my side seemed to retreat into something remote and unimportant. I saw Pre remained standing several paces away, but his outline had begun to blur, and then everything stopped. As a falling leaf hung motionless above the mud. And beyond the frozen clearing, the light between the trees stretched into long, unfamiliar threads.
What the hell?
I tried to move, but my body remained kneeling. Yet somehow, I was standing. I looked down and saw myself collapsed upon the ground, one hand pressed against my bleeding side.
Not this again. This sight and sensation was disturbingly familiar.
I'd experienced something similar during my training with Depa, when my consciousness had briefly separated from my physical body and drifted into the strange void where I perceived the Force-lights of living beings.
But that shouldn't have been possible here, not within the ysalamiri suppression field.
Then I heard it. A voice.
At first, it was so faint that I couldn't distinguish the words. Several voices seemed to overlap, some deep and ancient, others almost whispering, until they gradually merged into a single presence. When it finally spoke clearly, the voice belonged to an older man. His tone carried extraordinary authority, but there was no anger or urgency within it.
"Calm your mind, boy."
I turned sharply. "Who said that?"
The voice repeated itself. "Calm yourself, boy, and listen."
I stared into the gathering darkness. "Listen to what? Who are you?"
For several seconds, nothing answered. Then the voice returned. "I am someone who has been with you since the beginning."
My breath caught. "Since the beginning?"
"Since the first moment you truly reached into the Force."
A memory surfaced. Of me waking up in the Coruscant Jedi Temple. Master Yoda guiding me through one of my first meditation exercises. I was so young, just waking up in this body in this world, and uncertain, while struggling to understand what it meant to live in a galaxy that had once existed only within stories.
During that meditation, I'd encountered something. A presence, and a voice that had asked me what I wanted most, and I'd answered without hesitation.
I wanted to be Free.
I looked into the darkness. "You're the voice from back then."
"Yes."
I swallowed.
"Then you've been following me all these years?"
"I have never been far from you Cain."
Well that wasn't particularly reassuring. " That's just wonderful, another mysterious entity taking an interest in my life." For a moment, the presence seemed amused.
"Once, I asked what you desired above all else. You answered that you wanted freedom."
I remained silent.
"Now that freedom is threatened by chains you cannot see and enemies you cannot yet defeat."
The voice grew quieter. "So tell me, Cain Vizsla. What do you want?"
I thought of the blood spreading beneath my body, of Pre standing over me. Of Abeloth smiling through Seris's lifeless face. And of the countless thousands versions of myself who had apparently failed to prevent the future waiting for them.
"I want power."
The darkness remained still. "Why?"
I frowned. "What do you mean, why?"
"Power is an instrument, boy. It is not a purpose."
I clenched my fists. "Because I want to break the chains of this cycle. Because I'm tired of being manipulated by things that consider our lives meaningless." My voice grew louder. "Because Abeloth thinks she can keep dragging me through the same tragedies until there's nothing left of me."
The presence listened without interruption.
"And because I want to protect what matters."
"The girl?"
I immediately frowned. "Her name is Seris."
The voice remained silent.
"And she's not the only one. There's Anakin, Derren, Barriss, Master Plo, Fay, Windu, Bo-Katan, and everyone else who's trusted me enough to stand beside me." I looked into the surrounding darkness. "I want to protect as many people as I can."
The presence seemed to consider my answer. "To protect everything, you may eventually have to sacrifice something precious."
I laughed bitterly. "Of course. No extraordinary power ever comes without some kind of price." I shook my head. "What do you take me for, a Sith?"
The voice chuckled. It was a deep, surprisingly human sound. "Then perhaps there is hope for you yet."
I folded my arms. "Glad you approve. Now, are you going to tell me how to survive, or are we going to discuss philosophy while my body bleeds out?"
"Look no further, Cain."
I frowned. "What?"
"You already possess the power you seek."
I closed my eyes. "If you're about to tell me some nonsense about believing in myself, I swear I'll find a way to kill you."
The presence seemed amused again. Then the darkness moved. The frozen forest disappeared entirely, replaced by the endless void I'd entered so many times before. Countless points of light surrounded me, some shone like distant stars. Others appeared as delicate threads stretching across immeasurable distances, connecting living beings through a vast, intricate network.
I recognized the place immediately. This is the void world.
The voice spoke again. "Your existence is unusual, as your Witch mentor has already explained."
I remembered Mother Talzin's warning. I was a living black hole in the Force. An anomaly whose presence drew others toward him, binding their destinies together through connections that became stronger as I grew.
"Talzin told me my existence affects the people around me," I answered.
"She understood part of the truth." The surrounding lights shifted, several familiar colors appeared among them. A brilliant sapphire-silver radiance, a silver-gold flame. A sapphire light brightening toward white. And farther away, the gentle Jade presence I'd always associated with Barriss.
My breath caught. "The resonance."
"Yes." The lights moved closer. "Whenever you and those bound to you have achieved extraordinary feats, you have done so by allowing your individual connections to resonate as one rather than remain separate."
I remembered the countless times our cohort had trained together. The unexpected moments when our techniques became more powerful than they should have been. The strange harmony we'd experienced on Tython. And the terrifying occasion when I'd stepped beyond my physical body and felt the entire planet moving around me.
The voice continued. "You called it Force resonance, but that was merely one expression of something greater."
I looked toward the surrounding lights. "What are you saying?"
"That the void you enter is not simply a place where you observe the Force. Your consciousness has been moving beyond the ordinary boundaries of your physical existence."
My eyes widened. "Are you talking about Mind Walking?"
"An imperfect name for a process you barely understand, but yes."
I remembered from Legends how powerful Force users whose consciousness could travel beyond their bodies, perceive distant events, and enter realms normally inaccessible to living beings. No way. "You're saying I've been Mind Walking this entire time?"
"Not every time. Sometimes you merely extended your senses. Other times, you crossed the threshold without understanding what you had done."
The lights shifted again. I saw an image of myself standing beneath the storm on Tython, surrounded by the luminous connections linking my friends.
"That day," I whispered.
"Yes."
"You mean when I became the center of the storm?"
"You transcended your physical awareness and resonated with those connected to you." I stared at the memory. "But I almost died, no I did die."
"Because you attempted to sustain a state you did not understand." The voice became firm. "Power without comprehension is merely another chain."
I slowly exhaled. There was something unsettling about the way the presence spoke. It knew too much. Not simply about my abilities, but about experiences that should have belonged entirely to me. I narrowed my eyes.
"All right. Enough mysterious explanations." The surrounding lights became still. "Who are you?"
"I have already answered."
"No, you haven't. You've told me where you've been, not what and who you are." My voice hardened. "Mother Talzin warned me about my force light being like a beacon to entities sleeping in the void. And after Abeloth, I'm not particularly interested in making deals with mysterious voices."
The presence was silent for several seconds, and then it answered. "I am an echo of your true power."
I frowned. "An echo?"
"A reflection of the potential from which your unusual connection arises. If you require a simpler explanation, you might say I am where your power in Force begins or originates from."
I stared into the darkness. "That explains absolutely nothing."
"Perhaps not yet."
"Then give me something useful."
The voice chuckled softly. "You are remarkably impatient."
"So I've been told."
"Listen carefully, Cain. You cannot force this state into existence through desperation. You must remember the feeling of becoming one with the Force without surrendering who you are."
The surrounding void began changing, I saw flashes of memory. My first meditation beneath Master Yoda's guidance. The freezing caverns of Ilum, where I'd found the kyber crystals that would eventually become part of my lightsabers. The countless training sessions beneath Coruscant's Temple towers. Master Windu's instruction.
My confrontation with Count Dooku, and Tython, the storm and rain. The moment my consciousness had moved beyond my body while the Force-lights of my friends gathered around me.
The voice spoke one final time. "Do not demand that the river obey you. Remember how to enter its current."
I closed my eyes. For a moment, I resisted the urge to reach for the power surrounding me. I'd spent years trying to become stronger. Training harder. Learning more Force techniques. And seeking every possible advantage that might help me survive the future.
But perhaps I'd begun treating the Force as another weapon to collect, another tool to master. Another thing that could be made to obey if I understood enough of its rules. I remembered something Master Plo had once told me.
A Jedi who only asked the Force for strength might never hear what it was trying to teach him.
I exhaled slowly. "Fine."
The voice remained silent.
"But we're not finished talking."
"Oh I do not doubt it."
I allowed my awareness to expand, not outward through force of will. But inward, toward the familiar sensation of being connected to something far greater than myself, and the void shifted. For an instant, I felt as though I were falling. Then the falling stopped, and something caught me.
Not hands or a physical presence. It felt like the entire galaxy had taken one enormous breath and allowed me to share it. The countless lights surrounding me brightened. I felt the distant presence of Anakin. Seris. Derren. Barriss. And thousands of other living beings whose existence contributed to the vast current of the Force.
But I didn't reach for them. I didn't pull them toward me or attempt to borrow their strength. I simply allowed the connections to remain. Distinct, independent, and beautiful.
For the first time, I understood something about the resonance that had frightened me ever since Talzin described my influence over others. A bond didn't have to become a chain. A connection like mine could strengthen everyone involved without consuming their individuality. And the void didn't necessarily have to swallow everything that entered it.
Sometimes, it could simply provide a place where many lights existed together. I opened my eyes. And the darkness around me trembled. And somewhere far away, time began moving again.
Anakin was the first to notice. He stood at the edge of the clearing, watching Cain struggle on his knees while Pre approached with measured steps. Every instinct told him to intervene, his friend and brother was bleeding badly.
Anakin's cybernetic hand tightened around his lightsaber. Then the air changed. A faint pressure moved through the clearing.
He frowned. What?
The familiar emptiness created by the ysalamiri suddenly seemed less absolute. Something stirred at the edge of his awareness. At first, it was barely noticeable, but then his nausea started to disappear. Followed by a faint current, and a distant warmth. Then it grew.
Anakin's eyes widened. "No way."
Seris turned toward him. "What?"
He stared at Cain. "Do you feel that?"
Seris looked down at her hands. For several seconds, she remained motionless. Then her expression changed. "It can't be." Her silver-gray eyes widened. "It's the Force."
Derren took a sharp breath. "It's not just the Force." He looked toward Cain. "It feels different." The familiar resonance connecting their cohort was returning, but it wasn't expanding in the same way it usually did.
Instead, it seemed to be gathering around Cain, concentrating into a strange pressure that displaced the surrounding suppression field.
The nearest ysalamiri shifted uneasily within their nutrient frames. Several small warning lights activated along the monitoring equipment.
Bo-Katan looked between the Jedi. "What are you talking about?"
Ursa raised her wrist display. "The suppression readings are changing."
She stared at the numbers. "That's impossible."
Pre Vizsla noticed the disturbance as well. His helmet tilted toward Cain. "What the hell are you doing?"
Cain slowly rose. The blood spreading across his robes began to glow faintly. For a moment, the wound beneath his ribs seemed to pulse with golden light. Then the damaged tissue began knitting together. The bleeding had stopped, and the bruises along his face faded. His broken nose shifted back into alignment with a painful crack.
Within seconds, he stood upright. Pre took an involuntary step backward. "What did you just do?"
Cain raised his head, and Pre saw his eyes. His golden irises remained bright, almost luminous. But the whites surrounding them had become an unnatural, absolute black.
Not the yellow-red corruption associated with Sith eyes.
Something stranger. Like two golden stars suspended within an endless void. For the first time since arriving on Tython, Pre felt genuine uncertainty as Cain looked at him.
I felt the familiar weight of my lightsaber resting against my belt. My body was whole again. The pain had vanished. And the Force surrounded me with an intensity I'd never experienced while remaining fully conscious of my physical surroundings.
I could still hear the waterfall, smell the damp forest, feel the blood drying upon my robes. But beneath those ordinary sensations was a vast, extraordinary awareness that seemed to extend far beyond the clearing.
The ysalamiri hadn't disappeared. Their defensive field hadn't been destroyed. Rather, the strange resonance gathering around me had created a localized opening in the suppression, temporarily forcing its effects outward.
I didn't know how long it would last. And I wasn't foolish enough to assume I could reproduce it whenever I wanted. But for this moment, I had access to the Force again.
Pre slowly adjusted his stance. "Whatever trick that was, it changes nothing."
I reached toward my belt. "Then let's finish what we started." I unclipped my curved lightsaber hilt. With a familiar snap-hiss, a brilliant golden blade erupted into existence, its luminous edge carrying the faint blue hue I'd come to recognize as uniquely mine.
Pre stared at it, and then he reached toward his own belt. A long dark hilt appeared in his hand. With a sharp, distinctive ignition, the Darksaber came alive. Its flat black blade was surrounded by a bright white corona, the ancient weapon humming with a sound unlike any ordinary lightsaber.
Pre raised it into a fighting stance. "Come on, then." He smiled beneath his helmet. "Show me what you've become."
I lowered my center of gravity and moved. There was no prolonged exchange. No opportunity for Pre to study my technique or adjust his defenses.
One moment, I stood several paces away, and the next, I was inside his guard. Pre attempted to raise the Darksaber, but my golden blade flashed upward.
His right hand separated from his wrist. Before the shock registered, I rotated my weapon through a second strike. His left hand fell beside the first.
Pre stumbled backward, staring at his severed gauntlets with disbelief. The Darksaber slipped from his grip, and I extended my free hand, it then flew toward me, settling into my palm.
I then ignited it again. Then I stepped forward. The golden lightsaber rested against one side of Pre's throat. The Darksaber hovered against the other.
The entire clearing fell silent.
Pre's breathing came heavily through his helmet. For a moment, he stared at the two blades.
Then he laughed. It was a painful, disbelieving sound. "Well." He slowly raised his head. "Would you look at that."
I studied him without speaking. Pre looked toward the blood still staining my robes. Then toward the weapons in my hands. "You really are Selene's son, and the second coming of Tarre." His laughter faded. "Well! what are you waiting for?"
I kept both blades steady. "Any last words?"
Pre's helmet tilted toward his warriors. Several had already begun lowering their weapons. Others stood completely motionless, apparently struggling to understand how a duel that had seemed decided moments earlier could end so suddenly.
Pre straightened as much as his injuries allowed. "You all know what to do."
One of his lieutenants stepped forward. "Commander....."
"I lost." Pre's voice was sharp. "The challenge was accepted. The outcome is decided."
He looked toward Bo-Katan. For a moment, neither spoke, and then Pre chuckled softly. "Seems you forged your foundling well, Bo."
Her expression remained hard, but she nodded.
Pre inclined his head. Then he looked toward me. "Tell your Master he did a fine job raising you."
My grip tightened slightly. Pre continued. "And Cain..." He hesitated. For the first time, his voice sounded almost uncertain. "Selene would be proud."
Pre spoke again, this time in Mando'a. "Gar jatne Mando'ad... Ke'gyce, vod... ner kote."
I understood the meaning. You are the better Mandalorian. Lead our people to glory.
I looked into his visor. "I will."
Pre gave a final, almost satisfied nod. Then I moved. The golden blade crossed his neck in one swift, decisive strike. His helmet separated from his body. For a fraction of a second, the Death Watch commander remained upright.
Then his body collapsed onto the damp earth. The helmet rolled several feet before coming to rest beside one of the ancient stones.
I deactivated my golden lightsaber, but left the Darksaber remained active in my left hand. I looked down at Pre Vizsla. "This is our way." The words tasted bitter. There was no satisfaction or overwhelming triumph in them.
I'd killed the man who had helped destroy my family, and yet Selene was still dead. My father was still gone. Nothing about this victory could bring them back. But the future didn't have to remain trapped beneath their mistakes.
I slowly raised my head. And felt the Force seemed to embrace me. Not with approval of the killing or with some grand proclamation that violence had made me worthy. Instead, I felt the immense, living presence of Tython surrounding the clearing. And as if speaking to me it told me what I needed to do next.
The people watching. The frightened and hopeful emotions of the warriors who had just witnessed their leader fall. And the delicate possibilities stretching outward from the decision I'd made. For once, I didn't feel compelled to chase every one of them. I simply allowed myself to understand that the next choice mattered more than the last.
The Death Watch warriors began moving toward me. I lowered the Darksaber slightly, watching as several approached from the opposite side of the clearing. Their weapons remained holstered, but I wasn't about to assume that Pre's death had magically transformed every one of them into a loyal follower.
"Anyone else want to challenge me?" I asked.
The nearest warrior stopped. He looked toward Pre's body, then toward the Darksaber in my hand. For several seconds, he remained motionless. Then he lowered himself onto one knee. One by one, the others followed.
Armored fists struck the ground as the Mandalorians bowed their heads. Bo-Katan and Ursa approached from behind me. Bo looked toward the kneeling warriors before turning to face me.
"It's finally done, Cain." I glanced toward her. "Pre's command has passed to you. His warriors have witnessed the challenge, and they've accepted its outcome."
Ursa nodded. "You're now the new leader of Death Watch."
I stared at them for a moment, then I shook my head. "No."
Bo frowned. "Cain?"
I stepped toward the center of the clearing. "Death Watch died with Pre Vizsla and his brother." Several warriors raised their heads. I continued before anyone could protest.
"And we aren't going to pretend we're the old True Mandalorians either. My mother believed those ideals could give our people a better future, but simply taking her organization's name won't accomplish what they couldn't finish."
I raised the Darksaber. Its black blade cut a stark shape against the daylight. "From this day forward, we are the Dawn Vanguard."
The clearing remained silent. I looked toward the kneeling warriors. "We will fight. We will remember our traditions, honor our clans, and defend the worlds we call home. But we will not murder civilians to make political statements, or demand obedience through terror."
My voice grew stronger. "We will be warriors who protect the weak, not predators who make them kneel. When we draw our weapons, it will be because something worth defending stands behind us."
I paused. "And if any of you believe the Mandalorian way requires cruelty toward the helpless, you're free to leave. I will not force you to follow me."
The silence stretched. Then Bo-Katan struck her armored fist against her chest. Ursa followed. Soon the sound spread throughout the clearing as warriors from both groups repeated the gesture.
Their voices rose in approval. I looked across the gathered Mandalorians, aware that accepting me as their commander didn't mean their old loyalties, resentments, or ambitions had vanished.
Those would require time and difficult choices. But this was a beginning.
I lowered the Darksaber and turned toward Bo. "Take command of the Vanguard for now. Secure Pre's records, ships, communications, and financial information. I want to know how Death Watch found Tython, who helped them, and what else they know."
Bo inclined her head. "Understood."
"Ursa, notify the Temple and settlements that the immediate threat has ended. Master Plo can lift the lockdown once security confirms there aren't any additional Death Watch forces hiding nearby."
"Yes, Cain."
Both women struck their fists against their chestplates before departing to organize the warriors. Anakin, Derren, and Seris approached.
Anakin was staring at me with an expression of complete bewilderment. "Cain, how did you do that?"
I frowned. "Do what?"
"All of it! You were practically dying, and suddenly you stood up, healed yourself, brought the Force back into a place where it shouldn't work, and finished Pre before he could blink!"
Derren leaned closer. "More importantly, what's going on with your eyes? Are they stuck like that?"
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Your eyes are black around the irises."
I rubbed my face. "Well, I can't exactly see my own eyes, Derren."
"Fair point."
Seris stepped forward and gently took my hand. Her expression was more concerned than astonished. "Cain, are you all right?"
I looked at her. Through our restored bond, I felt the fear she'd experienced while watching me bleed. It made my chest tighten. "I'm not entirely sure what happened," I admitted. The statement wasn't completely false.
I'd heard a voice, I'd entered the void. And somehow, I'd accessed a state of the Force that allowed me to briefly overcome the suppression field. But I still didn't understand what that presence was or why it had chosen that particular moment to speak.
I wasn't ready to explain it. Not yet.
Derren leaned closer again. "Oh, they're back to normal."
I glanced toward him. "My eyes?"
"Yep."
I shrugged. "Well, that's good. Not like I knew what was happening with them anyway."
Seris didn't look entirely convinced. But she squeezed my hand. "You're sure you're okay?"
I smiled. Then I wrapped my arms around her waist, lifted her from the ground, and spun her once. She gasped before laughing. "Cain!"
I lowered her carefully. "I'm more than okay. I feel amazing."
Anakin shook his head. "You nearly died ten minutes ago."
"I know. But whatever happened felt similar to our first time on Tython, only this time I remained in control."
Seris's smile faded slightly. "You're not going to collapse and nearly die again, are you?"
"I don't think so."
"That's not particularly reassuring."
"I know." I kissed her forehead. "But I'm here."
She rested her head against mine for a moment. Then I looked toward the forest.
"Right now, I need to go somewhere."
Seris raised an eyebrow.
"Where?"
"Let's get outside the suppression field first. Whatever I did only pushed the ysalamiri's effects away temporarily. I can already feel the connection weakening."
Anakin grimaced. "Yeah, I'd rather not be here when that comes back."
We left Bo-Katan supervising the newly named Dawn Vanguard and followed the narrow path toward the forest's edge. As expected, the unusual opening in the suppression field gradually closed behind us. The Force became faint again, although the effect was far less disturbing now that I knew what to expect. By the time we reached the outer boundary, its familiar presence returned fully.
And someone was waiting for us. A cloaked figure stood beside the path, leaning casually against a tree. As we approached, they straightened. "Well, considering what I just felt, I assume you won."
I smiled. "Hello, Asajj."
The woman lowered her hood. Asajj Ventress regarded us with her familiar sharp expression, pale skin and dark markings contrasting against the forest around her. Her lips curved into a slight smile. "Hello, Cain it's been a while."
Anakin immediately stiffened. "You!"
Asajj looked toward him. "Still charming as ever, Skywalker."
Derren sighed. "Oh, this day just keeps getting better."
I raised my hand before anyone could begin arguing. "How's the mission going?"
Asajj folded her arms. "Well enough. Dooku trusts me with increasingly important assignments. He seems convinced I'm useful, although I'm certain he's keeping several things from me."
"And Sidious?"
"Still haven't met him."
I nodded.
"Understood."
She studied my bloodstained robes. "Looks like you had an interesting afternoon with Pre."
"You could say that."
Asajj stepped closer. "There's one complication. Dooku instructed me to finish the job if Pre failed."
Anakin's raised an eyebrow.
Asajj glanced toward him. "Relax I'm reporting the order, not carrying it out." She looked back toward me.
"He's growing impatient with you and Noctis."
"That makes two of us."
Asajj's expression sharpened. "You're planning something."
"Several things." I smiled. "And thank you again for taking this assignment. I know how dangerous it is."
She stepped closer, lifting a hand beneath my chin as she examined my face. "If you hadn't sent your people to find me on Rattatak before Dooku reached me, things might have turned out considerably differently."
She glanced toward Derren. "Especially your charming friend over there."
Derren looked deeply uncomfortable.
Asajj smiled.
I felt Seris's hand tighten around mine.
Oh, great.
Asajj noticed immediately, and her smile widened. "Well, that's interesting."
I gently stepped away. "Anyway, Dooku won't be alive much longer, so prepare yourself. You'll eventually need to make direct contact with Sidious."
Everyone stared at me.
Anakin was the first to speak. "Wait. You're planning to kill the Count already?"
"Possibly."
"What do you mean possibly?"
I looked toward him. "Don't worry. You'll get a chance to face him before anything final happens."
Anakin's expression became serious. He glanced toward his cybernetic hand. Then nodded. "I'll be ready."
Asajj studied me carefully. "You speak as though you've already decided how this ends."
"No. I've decided how I want it to end. There's a difference."
She regarded me for another moment before smiling faintly. "Good. I'd hate for you to become boring."
I gestured toward the Temple. "While you're here, go visit the Dathomirian witches training with our Order. Some of them would probably appreciate meeting you."
Asajj's expression softened slightly. "I might do that." She stepped past us. Then she turned and blew a playful kiss toward Derren. "Until next time."
Derren watched her disappear along the forest path. "That woman is terrifying she almost killed me the first time we met."
Anakin laughed.
Seris smiled.
Derren shook his head. "I still can't believe you sent Master Kuro and me to find her on Rattatak all those months ago."
"And it worked," I replied. "We now have someone inside the Sith's side."
I chuckled. "Besides, she's a better choice than the person I originally considered sending."
Derren glanced toward me. "Who?"
I looked at him, and then looked away.
He narrowed his eyes. "Cain."
I remained silent. Anakin began laughing. "Oh, I think I know."
Derren sighed. "Of course you do."
I decided to change the subject. "Anakin, contact Padmé."
He raised an eyebrow. "Sure but why?"
"Ask whether any major diplomatic banquets or formal gatherings are scheduled on Coruscant."
Anakin frowned. "Actually, she mentioned something about that recently." He retrieved his communicator. "A banquet for several delegations from the Inner and Mid Rim. Senators, planetary representatives, business leaders, the usual crowd."
"How soon?"
"Very soon. Obi-Wan and Satine are supposed to attend."
I smiled. "Perfect."
Seris looked toward me.
"Cain, what are you planning?"
I glanced toward the Temple, where the towers of the Eternal Dawn rose above the surrounding forest. Then I looked toward the distant sky. "Anakin, Seris, Derren. The three of us are going on a trip, and wear your best robes."
Anakin shook his head. "What's the plan?"
I began walking.
"First, we need to send a message."
"To whom?"
I smiled faintly.
Coruscant
Coruscant's diplomatic banquet was being held within one of the Republic's most prestigious government reception complexes, where the capital's wealthiest and most influential representatives gathered beneath the polished grandeur of the upper-city skyline.
The enormous reception hall was alive with conversation.
Senators from the Core Worlds mingled with representatives from the Mid Rim, while corporate executives, military advisers, and dignitaries from influential planetary governments occupied their assigned tables.
Elegant music drifted through the chamber, accompanied by the quiet clinking of crystal glasses and the murmur of political conversations disguised as pleasant social exchanges. High above the main floor, Chancellor Sheev Palpatine stood upon a private balcony overlooking the gathering.
He held a glass of expensive wine, occasionally sipping while listening to one of his advisers discuss developments in the Senate.
The Chancellor appeared attentive. Internally, he was bored. The conversations were predictable.
Trade agreements. Regional disputes. Concerns about growing separatist sentiment, and Lord Noctis's growing movement. With Requests for financial assistance, political appointments, and assurances that the Republic would continue protecting the interests of its most powerful members.
Palpatine had heard every variation of those conversations for decades. He understood their ambitions, fears, and how easily both could be manipulated. He dismissed his adviser with a polite smile and turned toward the city skyline.
That's when he sensed someone approaching. The presence was familiar, but different, considerably different. Palpatine turned. A young man with long white hair, pointed ears, and striking golden eyes stepped onto the balcony.
His formal clothing was understated but impeccably tailored, carrying subtle elements of Jedi and Mandalorian design.
There was a faint scar visible near his left eye. And his presence within the Force...
Palpatine's smile remained perfectly controlled, but he found this interesting. The boy had changed. He was stronger than before, but the difference wasn't merely a matter of raw power. There was something unusual about the way his presence seemed to interact with the surrounding Force, a strange stillness that made even Palpatine's carefully concealed senses hesitate. Cain
The Chancellor lowered his glass slightly as he approached. "Cain, my boy! What a pleasant surprise." His expression warmed with practiced sincerity. "I must confess, I hadn't expected to see you here, especially after your rather sudden departure from the Jedi Order all those months ago." He gestured toward the banquet below. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
I approached him calmly. "Hello, Chancellor."
Palpatine studied me. There was something different about my voice. Less warmth. Less of the youthful enthusiasm he'd come to associate with my earlier visits.
"Do you have a moment to talk?" I asked.
His smile widened. "Of course. As I've told you before, Cain, I will always make time for you."
I nodded. "Thank you."
Then I stepped toward the balcony railing. Below us, the banquet continued. Anakin sat beside Padmé Amidala, the two engaged in what appeared to be a pleasant conversation with several Naboo representatives. Seris had found the Corellian delegation and was speaking with several familiar faces from our recent visit. Derren, meanwhile, had apparently decided that the buffet was the most important political institution in the Republic.
I almost smiled, some things never change.
Palpatine joined me beside the railing. "Now, what can I do for you?"
I watched the gathering below. Then I turned toward him. "Actually, Chancellor, I didn't come to speak with the leader of the Galactic Republic."
His expression remained pleasant. "Oh?"
"No."
I met his eyes. "I came to speak with Darth Sidious."
For the briefest instant, Palpatine went completely still. His expression didn't change, and his breathing remained even. But beneath the carefully maintained persona of the kindly Chancellor, something ancient and dangerous stirred.
I continued before he could respond. "And since Dooku has already informed you that I'm aware of your existence, we can skip the tedious conversation where you pretend not to understand what I'm talking about."
Palpatine regarded me silently, I leaned against the railing. "Besides, who do you think informed the Jedi Order about that little chamber beneath the Temple where you've been meditating and drawing upon the dark-side nexus?"
For several seconds, neither of us spoke. Palpatine's expression changed gradually. Something far more dangerous. Interest.
He felt a strange sensation rising within him, one he hadn't experienced in quite some time. At first, he couldn't identify it, and then he realized what it was. Joy.
The boy standing beside him knew far more than he'd anticipated. And rather than recoiling in fear or foolishly attempting to arrest him, Cain had approached him openly at one of the most public gatherings on Coruscant.
Palpatine's smile became genuine. At last it's something unexpected. He slowly swirled the wine within his glass.
"My, my, young Cain." His voice remained calm. "There's a time and place for conversations of this nature, although I suppose you've chosen an unusually effective setting."
He glanced toward the banquet below. "Public enough that neither of us can afford an unfortunate misunderstanding."
He turned toward me. "Very well. For the sake of this rather entertaining conversation, let us dispense with the pleasantries." His eyes studied me with renewed intensity. "What is it you wish to discuss?"
I looked toward the crowded reception hall, then back at the man who had spent years preparing to enslave an entire galaxy beneath an Empire of his own creation. For the first time, I wasn't approaching him as a frightened child attempting to conceal what he knew.
I knew what he was, he knew that I knew. And both of us understood that the next words could change the direction of the galaxy.
I met his gaze. "I want a truce."