The training grounds behind the revitalized Tython temple rang with the sound of clashing lightsabers, a symphony of combat that echoed off ancient stone walls and carried across the valley below. Multiple Jedi, from Padawans to Knights to Masters, moved through the expansive space with purpose and discipline. Some navigated obstacle courses that tested agility and Force awareness.
Others sparred against training droids, their movements precise and controlled. Still others engaged in carefully monitored duels, pushing each other to improve while maintaining the respect and restraint that separated training from true combat.
The air itself seemed alive with energy, thick with the scent of sweat and ozone, of disturbed earth and the faint metallic tang that always accompanied sustained lightsaber use. The morning sun cast long shadows across the grounds, illuminating dust motes that danced in the light like tiny stars, each one catching and reflecting the glow of activated blades.
Small stone pillars rose from the earth in one section of the training grounds, each no wider than a dinner plate, their surfaces worn smooth by centuries of wind and rain. They appeared and disappeared with mechanical precision, rising to various heights before dropping back into the ground just as quickly.
The spacing between them was calculated to punish hesitation, to force constant movement and split-second decision-making. Wind swept through the open space, carrying the smell of nature and old stone, the hum of hovering machinery, and the sharp crack of stun fire from the training droids that circled overhead.
I landed lightly on one of the pillars, my knees bending to absorb the impact as my weight settled and then shifted immediately in response to the pillar's subtle instability. Sweat clung to my face, running down my temples and stinging my one visible eye. As my breath remained controlled but heavy, each inhale and exhale were measured and deliberate despite the burning in my lungs.
My lightsaber snapped up just in time to deflect a stun bolt that would have caught me square in the ribs.
The bolt dissipated away harmlessly, its energy dissipating against my blade with a sharp crack that made my arm vibrate from wrist to shoulder.
Another bolt came from above, fired by one of the six training droid spheres that swarmed around the pillar field like predatory insects. I twisted my torso, letting the bolt pass inches from my shoulder, close enough that I could feel the heat of it against my skin.
I pushed off the pillar with explosive force, flipping backward through the air with a grace that came from years of Ataru training. My body rotated in a perfect arc, and I landed on the next stone pillar just as Master Plo Koon descended from above, appearing in my blind left side like a phantom.
Plo's blue lightsaber was already in motion, a blur of azure light that cut through the air with a distinctive hum that was deeper, more resonant than my own blade's song.
Then we clashed.
The impact rattled through my legs, the force of Master Plo's strike traveling up through my knees and into my hips as I fought to maintain balance on the narrow pillar. The stone beneath my feet trembled from the power of the collision, and for a heartbeat I thought it might crumble entirely.
My master pushed me hard, his lightsaber pressing against mine with relentless pressure as we exchanged countless strikes. He moved through multiple saber forms with seamless transitions, each one flowing into the next like water. His Djem So was immaculate, each power strike delivered with perfect form and devastating force. His Ataru was equally impressive, combining acrobatic movement with aggressive offense in ways that kept me constantly off-balance. He'd even refined his Makashi to the point where it felt like I was fighting Count Dooku again, each parry executed with surgical precision, each riposte delivered at the perfect angle to exploit any opening in my defense.
Plo redirected my strikes with masterful parries, using Tutaminis to absorb and transfer the kinetic energy into his Djem So counterstrikes. Causing each counterstrike came with tremendous weight behind it, the power only increasing as the exchange continued. It forced me to brace, slide, and adapt faster than I was comfortable with, pushing me to the very edge of my capabilities.
Master Plo never overextended. Every one of his movements was measured, each calculated with the precision of someone who had spent three centuries perfecting his craft. Every step was placed exactly where it needed to be, every shift in weight deliberate and purposeful.
Master Windu would tell me I was becoming the eye of the storm. But to me in Master Plo was the storm rider. He's someone who could navigate the chaos of combat and find the eye of the storm, the place of perfect calm at the center of violence.
I countered with my own hybrid style, the one I was still developing and refining through countless years of practice.
My approach combined Djem So's power, Ataru's mobility, and Makashi's precision, with Niman serving as the foundation that connected all the forms together. I used Tutaminis to absorb the impact of Plo's blows, saving my own energy and stamina as much as possible, though my technique was still nowhere close to Master Koon's mastery.
The energy I absorbed, I redirected using Djem So's devastating counterstrikes, enhanced by Makashi's blade precision to target specific points in my opponent's defense.
It wasn't perfect. Combining these forms created massive challenges for my muscle memory, especially since Master Koon had increased the intensity of our training sessions over the past few months.
The different footwork patterns sometimes conflicted, the varying philosophies of each form occasionally pulling me in opposite directions. But the hybrid approach kept me alive when overwhelmed, and when openings appeared in my master's defense, I let Vapaad bleed through, combining it with Djem So's counterstrikes to create attacks that came from unpredictable angles with sudden acceleration.
Those strikes were meant to overwhelm rather than outlast, for me to create chaos and exploit it before my opponent could adapt.
The two of us moved like blurs across the pillar field, caught in the flow of our spar, existing in that space where thought and action became one. We ran and jumped across the tops of pillars, our lightsabers flashing in the morning sun as we exchanged blows mid-stride.
I vaulted over a low sweeping strike, my body horizontal to the ground for a split second, then spun mid-air and brought my blade down in a vertical arc that Master Plo met with one hand, locking our sabers together for a heartbeat before we broke away.
The sound of our clash echoed across the training grounds. WHAM. SHHK. KRAAAK. Every attack followed by a counter-blow, every strike met with deflection or redirection. It was like watching the unstoppable force meet the immovable object, two philosophies of combat colliding again and again without either giving ground.
Above us, the six training droid spheres continued their relentless assault, but they focused primarily on me rather than Master Plo. This was intentional, part of the training designed to force me to divide my attention, to maintain awareness of multiple threats while engaged in intense close-quarters combat.
As Master Koon and I exchanged more and more strikes, him pressing the offense while I remained primarily defensive, the droids fired in coordinated patterns. They created crossfire grids meant to force constant motion, to punish any moment of stillness or predictability.
I felt the shift in air pressure immediately, my awareness stretched thin as my attention split between my master's blade and the incoming stun bolts.
A bolt barely grazed my thigh, the impact sending a jolt of pain through my leg that made me stumble slightly. Another caught the left side of my face, right where my covered eye sat beneath the eyepatch. I hissed through clenched teeth but didn't slow, couldn't afford to slow.
I rolled forward as Plo advanced, coming up into a rising strike that my master deflected effortlessly. Then I pivoted into a spinning kick that Plo blocked with his forearm, using my momentum against me to shove me backward.
"Not bad, my Padawan," Plo's voice came through his antiox mask. "But you must do more than that if you want to break my momentum."
I barely caught myself on the edge of a pillar, my boots scraping against stone as I fought for balance. Sweat dripped down my neck, soaking into the collar of my training robes. My legs burned, and my muscles screaming for rest that wouldn't come.
Master Koon didn't show any signs of exhaustion. The Kel Dor Jedi Master moved like the centuries meant nothing to him, like he could maintain this pace indefinitely. Considering he had three hundred plus years of combat experience refined into his very being, this wasn't surprising. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited to be fighting him, to be pushed this hard by someone of his caliber.
We leapt again, our bodies launching from pillar to pillar with Force-enhanced speed. This time I pushed harder, calling on deeper reserves of power to propel myself faster, to sharpen my senses beyond their normal limits.
My right eye flared with shatterpoint vision, showing me all of Master Koon's weaknesses, the tiny fractures in his defense, the moments where his guard shifted or his weight transferred.
But I couldn't reach them. The shatterpoints were there, visible and tantalizing, but Master Plo's positioning and timing were too perfect. The vision also showed me the paths I could take to gain an advantage, the angles of attack that might create openings, the feints that could draw him out of position.
But none of them showed my victory. Every path led to the same conclusion: Master Plo adapting, countering, and maintaining control.
Master Windu had told me some time ago that I was the eye of the storm, the point of calm at the center of chaos. If that was true, then Master Koon was the storm rider, someone who could navigate the tempest to reach its center and still remain at peace.
That's what this spar felt like, me trying to create chaos while he simply rode it, turned it, used it against me.
My covered left eye pulsed beneath the eyepatch, a sensation like pressure building behind a dam. It wanted to be used, wanted to be opened and allowed to see. But I pushed the feeling aside, relying instead on instinct and training.
I focused on the sound and rhythm of our battle, on the subtle shifts in the air that told me where danger was coming from. I let the Force guide my blade and body, trusting in years of practice and meditation. All while using my right eye's shatterpoint vision in tandem to direct the flow of my attacks.
When I had used my left eye in past spars, it had felt closer to true precognition. The way I could predict movements and attacks sometimes bordered on seeing the future itself. But it was nowhere near perfect, and the experience was overwhelming. Being caught in a battle while simultaneously seeing future strikes created a disorienting double-vision that was difficult to process and act upon.
We clashed again, another furious exchange that sent sparks flying from our locked blades. Our lightsabers moved like shooting stars, leaving trails of color in their wake. CLASH. CLASH. Whoosh.
I ducked under a horizontal cut that would have taken my head off in a real fight, then came up with a thrust aimed at Master Plo's center mass. He redirected my blade into a stun bolt's path with minimal effort, the energy dispersing harmlessly against my lightsaber in a shower of sparks.
I grinned through clenched teeth, feeling the joy of combat despite the pain and exhaustion. This was what I lived for, the challenge, the growth, the constant push to become better.
Then Master Plo stepped in close, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat.
His blade struck with sudden overwhelming force, battering my guard down through sheer power and precision. I staggered, my boots scraping against stone as I fought to maintain my footing. Master Plo followed with a shoulder check that sent me skidding backward, my balance completely broken. I backflipped to the next pillar, barely managing to land on my feet.
I caught myself, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I gasped for air. The droids closed in, sensing weakness, and stun bolts poured down like rain. I raised my lightsaber, preparing to deflect them, to continue the fight despite my exhaustion.
Then I stopped.
I reached up with my free hand and removed my eyepatch, letting it fall away. I opened my left eye fully for the first time since the spar began.
I needed to become stronger. I needed to master this new sight my left eye had gained, whatever it might be. Running from it, and hiding from it, wouldn't help me grow.
As my left eye opened, the world around me fractured into something both beautiful and terrible.
I saw the flaws in everything, in the stone pillars, in the training droids, in the very air itself. My left eye perceived the particles of the Force in colors I had no names for, swirling through the stone, the nature, and Master Plo himself. Cracks appeared in my vision, showing me the proper flow of events before they happened, the paths that reality would take in the next few seconds.
In my right eye, I saw the Force in everything alive, the glowing auras that surrounded all living things. I could read the brief flow of events through shatterpoints, seeing the fractures and weaknesses that could be exploited.
Together, the two eyes created a vision that was almost overwhelming in its complexity.
It wasn't sight as it once was, but something else entirely. Colors bled into one another, creating hues that weren't there before. Force signatures glowed like stars against the darkness of space.
The droids appeared as blinding points of energy, their mechanical nature creating a different kind of presence in the Force. The stun bolts were visible as ripples and distortions in the air before they even fired, telegraphing their trajectories seconds in advance.
I breathed deeply and let the Force flow through me like a river, becoming part of its current rather than fighting against it. My body barely moved, just fixed micromovements all over, a tilt of the head, a shift of the shoulder, a step to the side. Bolt after bolt missed me by centimeters and microseconds, passing harmlessly through the space where I had been a heartbeat before.
Then I rushed toward Master Koon, my lightsaber ready to strike, moving with a fluidity and precision that came from seeing the future and present simultaneously.
But what I saw next surprised me completely. Master Plo Koon deactivated his lightsaber.
My flow-like state stopped immediately, my blade halting an inch from where my master had stood moments before. I shut off my lightsaber with a hiss, the golden blade disappearing.
Then the training droids flew back to their port stations and powered down with mechanical precision. Silence fell over the training ground, broken only by my heavy breathing and the distant sounds of other Jedi continuing their exercises. Master Plo stood there looking barely bothered by our intense exchange, his breathing even and controlled behind his antiox mask.
Then Master Koon nodded once, a gesture of approval and respect. "You have come far in the past six months, my Padawan. But I believe it's time you fought against your peers and saw how you've improved, instead of someone like me."
I closed my left eye, the overwhelming double-vision fading as I placed the eyepatch back over it. I exhaled slowly, feeling sweat drip down my face and neck. "Thank you, Master. I'm getting used to it, slowly. I'm not ready to use Electric Judgment yet, but I believe I know how to counter it now. I'm still struggling with the overload of information from my left eye, but my lightsaber forms and Tutaminis have all improved significantly."
I paused, then asked, "So who do you want me to spar against now?"
Master Plo stepped closer, resting his hands behind his back in his characteristic pose. "I am sure you will find a way to use both eyes in balance. Give it time, my Padawan. That is something you and I have plenty of." He paused, then gestured toward the entrance of the training grounds. "But as for who you'll spar against..."
Anakin emerged from the edge of the training ground, his sweat-damp hair pushed back from his face, his new prosthetic hand covered by a black leather glove that moved with surprising naturalness. Obi-Wan followed a few steps behind, his expression thoughtful as he observed the scene. Right after them came Seris and Barriss, with Master Shaak Ti walking beside them.
I thought to myself that since Barriss had come with us to Tython while Luminara stayed at the Coruscant temple, Masters Shaak Ti and Fay had taken her as their student. It was a good match, Barriss's natural talent for healing, and the living Force complemented both masters' teaching styles perfectly.
Anakin, Seris, Barriss, and I were all covered in sweat from our respective training sessions. Anakin walked up to me with a grin on his face. "I heard that our Masters want to see our progress today."
Seris nodded, her silver hair pulled back in a braided ponytail, a few loose strands framing her face. "Yeah, but it will be just the three of us."
I looked at her, confused. "Three of us?"
Barriss spoke up. "Yes. I'm not worried about my lightsaber skills right now. I need to focus on my Force healing and the other abilities that Master Fay has been teaching me. Plus, Derren is still recovering from his last mission with Master Kuro."
I nodded in understanding. "That's fine, I guess. It's probably best that all five of us don't spar together anyway, or it will be like when we were kids."
Anakin nodded enthusiastically. "Yup. Being caught up in a three-hour sparring session is never fun when we're all so busy these days." He paused, then looked at me with curiosity. "Which reminds me, Cain, since you use Jar'Kai, why don't you have another lightsaber like Seris does?"
I shrugged, feeling slightly defensive. "I haven't decided to commit to it yet. Plus, I feel like I only use Jar'Kai when I'm channeling Vapaad, and I want that to only be for when things get serious. It's not a form to use casually."
Seris stepped closer, a playful smirk on her face. "Sounds like he's not taking us seriously, Anakin."
Anakin nodded, crossing his arms next to Seris in an exaggerated gesture of mock offense. "I believe you're right, Seris. Maybe we should show him we're worth such a dangerous lightsaber form." He made air quotes around the word "dangerous."
Barriss chuckled softly at their antics, and I rolled my eyes but couldn't suppress a smile.
That's when our masters walked forward, and the stone pillar field behind us transformed. The individual pillars retracted completely, and the ground shifted and reformed until it became a circular stone platform, perfectly flat and smooth.
Obi-Wan stepped forward, his voice carrying the authority of a Jedi Knight but also the warmth of someone who genuinely cared about his students' growth. "Well, you three, it's time to see how far you've come after these past few months. Now remember, this is for training, so show respect to your fellow duelists."
Shaak Ti walked up beside him, her presence serene and commanding simultaneously. "Knight Kenobi is correct. And remember that this is a chance to push yourself against your peers, not against us, your masters. Use this as a learning experience, an opportunity to see how your different styles complement and challenge each other."
Anakin, Seris, and I bowed our heads in unison. "Yes, Masters."
As the three of us walked to the center of the stone platform, Barriss followed Obi-Wan and Shaak Ti to the viewing area at the edge of the grounds. Master Plo Koon took his position as well, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture radiating calm authority.
Master Koon's voice carried across the platform. "Take your positions."
The three of us circled each other slowly, measuring distances, reading body language, feeling for each other's presence in the Force. Then I took off my eyepatch and unclipped my curved hilt from my belt. I activated my lightsaber, and the golden blade with its black hue ignited with a snap-hiss that echoed across the platform.
Anakin unclipped his bulky hilt, the design modified to accommodate his new prosthetic hand, and he activated his blade. His indigo lightsaber crackled with tiny white lightning as it ignited, the electrical discharge a manifestation..
Seris unclipped two curved lightsaber hilts, one from each hip, and activated them simultaneously. Both blades flared with golden-yellow light, their color warm and bright like sunlight.
I settled into my Djem So stance, my weight balanced, my blade held in a middle guard position that could transition quickly to offense or defense. Seris flowed into her Jar'Kai Ataru stance, her two blades held at different angles, her body coiled like a spring ready to release. Anakin took his own Ataru stance, his single blade held high, his posture aggressive and forward-leaning.
As we looked at each other, my sight flared with information. I felt all three of us reaching deep into the Force simultaneously, drawing on its power to revitalize ourselves, to recover from our earlier training sessions. The exhaustion that had weighed on us moments before began to fade, replaced by renewed energy and focus.
Then I felt us all resonate in the Force through our bond, that connection we'd built over years of training and fighting side by side. I could tell that power was flowing through all our veins, that we were all prepared to give this spar everything we had. Even as I saw their shatterpoints and Force auras with my enhanced vision, my sight was telling me this was going to be one hell of a fight.
Master Plo Koon's voice cut through the tension. "Begin!"
And then nothing happened for a single second. All three of us didn't move, didn't breathe, didn't even blink. We simply stood there, reading each other, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Then in an instant, we moved with blinding speed, and our lightsabers crossed each other in a three-way deadlock at the center of the platform.
In that moment, the world around us disappeared. The watching masters, the other training Jedi, the temple itself, all of it faded into background noise as the three of us entered a flow state, that rare mental space where thought and action became one, where the Force guided every movement without conscious direction.
Seris, who was blocking both my lightsaber and Anakin's with her two blades, took the first aggressive move. With a graceful twist of her wrists, her lightsabers attacked both of us simultaneously, and I moved with Makashi precision and Djem So power, attacking and counterstriking in a fluid combination. But she only used one lightsaber against me, her attention divided but her execution flawless.
Her other blade engaged Anakin, who was holding nothing back as he struck hard and fast with the full force of his considerable power.
The three of us attacked, parried, and defended in equal measure, creating a dance of light and motion that was beautiful and deadly in equal parts. Anakin flipped and moved between Seris and me like it was nothing, his Ataru carrying him through the air with acrobatic grace.
I counterstriked, seeing his attacks before he made them through my enhanced vision, but even knowing what was coming didn't make defending against him easy. His speed and power made him incredibly difficult to counter, each strike carrying enough force to break through a lesser defense.
Meanwhile, Seris changed the flow of our exchange every time one of us thought we'd found a rhythm. With her two lightsabers, she would use Makashi's precision against me, then switch to Djem So's power to counter Anakin's Ataru. Then she would change her style mid-strike, flowing into Soresu to redirect our attacks toward one another, past her defenses like water flowing around stones.
Anakin and I ended up clashing with each other more than once, but we didn't let that stop our momentum. We kept striking and moving like it didn't matter who we were fighting, only that we were fighting. He sent a powerful overhead strike that I parried with both hands on my hilt. I sent a swift horizontal strike that he blocked easily, his prosthetic hand moving with the same speed and precision as his organic one.
Then mid-exchange, as we moved and struck and parried, we focused on Seris without even speaking. In a perfectly synchronized feint toward each other, we redirected our next strikes toward her simultaneously.
She took our combined attacks head-on without giving ground, without even seeming concerned. With a seamless blend of Soresu to defend in place and Djem So to counterstrike, she met our blades with fluid, graceful motions that made it look effortless. I could see Ataru mixed into her counterstrikes as well, adding speed and unpredictability to her already formidable technique.
I felt in that moment that she was so beautiful, like she wasn't fighting at all, it was like she was dancing, and her dance was talking to me. The realization sent a surge of emotion through me, and I felt the Force respond to that emotion, amplifying my power.
I decided not to hold back anymore and allowed Vapaad's ferocity to bleed into my strikes. My Makashi and Djem So refined my vicious attacks into controlled fury, each strike carrying both precision and overwhelming power.
My lightsaber strikes became more elegant and fluid, with smooth transitions between precise footwork and devastating parries. I exploited every micro-opening that Anakin and Seris presented, and my heavy, fast counterstrikes began to push them both back as I took the lead in the spar.
Anakin and Seris felt the shift and adjusted immediately. Anakin was ready to unleash himself fully in this fight, his power building like a star about to go supernova. But then Seris did something unexpected.
She deflected our strikes with a masterful parry, then suddenly tossed me one of her lightsabers.
The hilt spun through the air, and I caught it instinctively, my hand closing around the curved grip. She twirled her remaining lightsaber with a flourish and settled into a pure Makashi stance, her blade held in the classic duelist's position.
I knew in that moment, without her telling me, and without any words exchanged, what she was saying: If you want to go all out, then use the saber form where your Vapaad truly shines.
I saw Anakin nod as he shifted into his Ataru stance, understanding passing between all three of us through our Force bond.
I took the golden lightsaber she'd given me, adjusted my grip on both blades, and settled into a Jar'Kai stance. Part two of our spar erupted with renewed intensity, as if our tempo had never stopped, as if we'd been building to this moment all along.
All three of us moved in constant motion, striking, parrying, counterstriking in an endless flow. Our blades created patterns of light that were almost hypnotic to watch, golden and indigo trails painting the air.
Anakin surged forward, and he was terrifyingly fast and powerful without any signs of slowing down. I noticed he'd taken Count Dooku's advice to heart and refined his Makashi integration with his other forms.
He used Ataru for its speed, agility, and unpredictable angles of attack. He bled in Makashi for superior, conservative footwork and blade precision to save energy and protect his center mass. And he employed Djem So for raw power and devastating counter-attacks.
Anakin in this moment was almost scary in how powerful and fast he'd become. He was like a bright star going supernova, burning with intensity that threatened to consume everything around him.
But in this moment, I chose to stare that star down as the eye of the storm. My Jar'Kai and Vapaad came fully alive in our exchange. I let the lightsabers flow until they were nothing but blurs of golden light. My technique created the illusion of multiple blades instead of just two, rapid continuous strikes that overlapped and intersected in ways that were almost impossible to track.
My shatterpoint sight let me see Anakin's strikes before he made them, giving me precious microseconds to position my defense. Seris was barely holding her ground with Soresu and Makashi, allowing her to parry and defend between the two of us, but she was maintaining her position without giving an inch.
I could feel the strain beginning to take hold of both me and Anakin. His combination of lightsaber forms complemented each other beautifully, but all three forms were extremely physically taxing. He was only able to maintain this pace because of his immense stamina and powerful Force connection, drawing on reserves of energy that would have exhausted most Jedi twice his age.
My hybrid form was equally demanding, perhaps even more so. When using Jar'Kai, I had to keep my form usage carefully limited so the different philosophies didn't collide into a contradictory mess. Vapaad and Jar'Kai blended together naturally, but both were incredibly taxing. Like Anakin, I was fortunate to have decent stamina and a powerful Force connection that allowed me to sustain this level of intensity.
But the most surprising part of the exchange was Seris.
I'd thought she was struggling at first, having given up one of her lightsabers to me. But she was by no means weak, far from it, but compared to Anakin and me, her stamina wasn't quite as high, and while her connection to the Force was undoubtedly strong, it wasn't at the same level as ours.
Yet in the middle of our furious exchange, I noticed something remarkable. Anakin and I were both sweating heavily, our breathing labored, our movements showing the first signs of fatigue. But Seris looked calm, composed, not even close to tired.
She parried and deflected our strikes like they were nowhere near her level, like we were students and she was the master. And that's when I truly noticed what was happening.
In the middle of our three-way exchange, she was the one who was really controlling the flow and rhythm of the fight.
She deflected and parried only when necessary, conserving her energy with perfect efficiency. She counterstriked only when she knew she could score a hit, never wasting movement or power on attacks that wouldn't land. I could tell in this moment that she was the better duelist among the three of us, not through raw power or speed, but through superior technique, timing, and understanding of combat itself.
And that's when she made her move.
As Anakin and I both committed to powerful strikes, his coming from overhead, mine coming from different opposite angle, my shatterpoint sight suddenly flared with warning. In the blink of a moment, I saw the future, and I knew we'd already lost.
Seris closed her eyes.
Like a graceful dancer moving to music only she could hear, she parried Anakin's overhead strike without even looking, her blade meeting his at the perfect angle to redirect his power harmlessly aside. In a flawless transition, she slid her blade along his in a disarming technique, and Anakin's lightsaber went flying from his grip, deactivating as it spun through the air.
Simultaneously, she moved her free hand with blinding speed past my arms that were already in motion, already committed to strikes I could no longer stop. As I thought I was about to hit her with both lightsabers, her hand touched my chest and I felt a powerful push. But what I hadn't seen was her foot positioned just behind my lead foot, and the combination of the push and the trip destroyed my balance completely.
With that same hand she'd used to push me, she reclaimed her lightsaber from my grip in one fluid motion, taking advantage of my loss of balance to disarm me effortlessly.
Then in a burst of speed that I barely registered, she used her other foot to sweep Anakin's legs out from under him. He was still stunned from being disarmed, and the trip sent him crashing to the platform.
All of this happened in barely five seconds.
I landed hard on the stone platform, Anakin hit the ground across from me with a grunt of surprise and frustration. Before either of us could even think about getting up, Seris's golden lightsabers was already positioned at both our throats, close enough that we could feel the heat radiating from the plasma.
Anakin and I were breathing heavily, our chests heaving with exertion, sweat dripping from our faces. Seris looked down at us as she opened her eyes, and there was a small smile on her face, satisfaction mixed with affection.
She spoke, her voice calm and steady despite having just defeated both of us simultaneously. "So, how was that?"
I smiled up at her, genuine admiration in my voice. "You were amazing."
Anakin groaned, but there was humor in it. "Speak for yourself. I thought she was gonna cut off my other hand for a second there."
The three of us started chuckling, the tension of the spar dissolving into the easy camaraderie we'd built over years of friendship and training.
The three masters and Barriss stood at the edge of the platform, and were in awe.
Master Koon thought to himself that the three of them might be ready after all, but they needed just a little more time, a bit more refinement before they could go to the next go to the next path of their journey.
Obi-Wan's thoughts were filled with pride and a touch of melancholy. Anakin has improved so greatly over the past few months. Qui-Gon would be so proud of the man he's becoming.
Shaak Ti's thoughts focused on her Padawan. Seris really is an amazing duelist. Her understanding of combat theory and practical application exceeds even some Knights and Master's I've trained with. She is a treasure to her Echani species.
Barriss walked over to the three of us, her expression warm and encouraging. "You were all amazing. That was incredible to watch."
Master Plo stepped forward, his voice carrying across the platform. "I believe we can call it here for today. You three were truly amazing. I am proud of what I have seen, not only from my Padawan but from you as well, young Skywalker and Velor. All three of you have come so far for ones so young."
He paused, then continued. "Now, I have to prepare for a meeting with the Baran Do Sages of Dorin. My people are eager to hear about this gathering between the different Force sects, from us to the Corellian Jedi, to the Luka Sene of the Miraluka. While I attend to that, I want you to train with Bo-Katan and the other Mandalorians, my Padawan. I heard she wants to test your physical training in Teräs Käsi and Echani martial arts further."
I stood up and bowed my head respectfully. "Yes, Master. I hope your trip goes well."
Obi-Wan spoke up, his tone curious. "How is that area of the nearby forest where you placed those ysalamiri trees?"
I considered the question carefully before answering. "We have to keep them clustered in small colonies, otherwise the planet starts experiencing the same issues we had a few months ago. Remember those earthquakes and crazy weather patterns?"
Obi-Wan nodded grimly. "Indeed. Those were really bad situations. But as long as we know now not to let them spread out uncontrolled, we should be fine. The ysalamiri are useful, especially for training Jedi on how to survive and fight without access to the Force."
Shaak Ti stepped forward, addressing Seris. "You are free for the rest of the day, my Padawan. I will be training with Adi Gallia and Etain Tur-Mukan to refine my Battle Meditation technique with a few others. From what I hear, Derren is excelling in his studies as always."
Master Plo hummed thoughtfully, his attention returning to me. "I see. Then perhaps it is time you visited the Bendu, Cain. I know you've been putting it off for a while. Don't you think it's about time you met him?"
I stiffened involuntarily.
The thought had been hanging over me for months, a weight I'd been avoiding confronting. A mix of fear, uncertainty, and the knowledge that once I met the Bendu, things would change in ways I couldn't predict.
The Bendu might see right through me, might recognize that I didn't truly belong in this universe. But he could also help guide the praxeum we were building, though I doubted he would do so straightforwardly.
The Bendu was known for speaking in riddles and forcing those who sought his wisdom to find their own answers.
I nodded slowly, accepting the inevitable. "You're right, Master. I have been putting it off, and I should take care of it soon."
Before either of us could speak again, footsteps approached from the entrance to the training grounds.
"Hey, Cain."
Bo-Katan stood at the edge of the platform, her helmet tucked under one arm, her armor gleaming in the afternoon sun. Seris moved to stand next to me, her presence a comfort. Master Fay appeared beside Seris, her ancient features serene, her pointed ears twitching slightly as she listened to the conversation. Derren leaned against a nearby pillar, casually eating some kind of fruit, while Master Kuro stood beside him with his arms crossed.
"That was some crazy fighting," Bo said, genuine respect in her voice. "But training time is over. You need to start making your move." Her expression turned serious, almost grim. "Word is that Pre Vizsla and Count Dooku are moving, and they're working together now."
My eyes narrowed as I felt everyone's attention shift to me, waiting for my response, waiting for me to make the call.
Inside the Tython Temple council room, the atmosphere was tense with anticipation and purpose.
The chamber was one of the newly restored spaces, its ancient stone walls cleaned and reinforced, its floors polished until they gleamed. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating a round table that sat at the room's center.
A holographic projector rose from the table's middle, currently displaying a three-dimensional map of the galaxy, with various systems highlighted in different colors to indicate their status and allegiance.
I stood at the head of the table, observing everyone assembled as my mind raced with plans and contingencies. Around the table sat the core leadership of our growing order: Obi-Wan, Master Plo Koon, Master Fay, Master Shaak Ti, Master Kuro, Adi Gallia, Taria Damsin, Quinlan Vos, Bo-Katan, and my closest companions, Anakin, Seris, Barriss, and Derren.
I rubbed the scar around my eyepatch, a habit I'd developed over the past months. I did it whenever I was deep in thought, when I was working through complex problems or difficult decisions.
Then I spoke, my voice steady and carrying the authority of someone who had earned the right to lead through action rather than title.
"Okay, everyone. It's time." I paused, letting the weight of those words settle over the room. "We start making moves to get our order more firmly grounded. We've found a system that works when it comes to training and adapting to life on Tython. After investing heavily in building up our temple resources and supporting the nearby town, we're currently sitting on 13.8 million credits. This is after selling the Krayt dragon pearls and body parts, and after all the expenses for temple repairs and town development."
Bo-Katan leaned forward, her expression carrying a mix of pride and satisfaction. "My sister reports that you were right about the deep ore deposits on Mandalore. By utilizing careful orbital bombardments to break open new mining seams, we found a whole new undiscovered source of beskar. And when you said we would find even more beskar on the planet Enceri, you weren't kidding. Mandalore's economy is booming like it hasn't in generations. So we will continue to receive credit backing. "
She paused, then added with a slight smirk, "Your name is being passed around among the people of Mandalore as 'the lost son of an unknown house.' While select clans and Death Watch members know you're the one who made this possible, which has caused more warriors to come to your side, to our side."
I nodded to Bo-Katan, acknowledging the information. "Good to hear. We're going to need more workers for the orbital watch station construction, and Mandalorian expertise will be invaluable." I paused, then continued with the next part of the plan. "Bo-Katan, I need you to go to Kamino with your warriors and halt their clone production completely."
Bo's eyes narrowed, surprise and confusion evident in her expression. "You want me to do what?"
I reached into my robes and pulled out a small data chip, holding it up so everyone could see. "This will hack into their internal systems and give you a kill switch for their entire cloning operation. You can threaten that activating it will destroy their facility completely, sending them back to the stone age technologically speaking. But that's a bluff, they don't need to know that."
Anakin whistled low. "That's cold, Cain. But I like it."
I continued, my tone matter-of-fact. "It's not permanent, but it will give us enough time to get things under control and negotiate from a position of strength."
Bo studied the chip carefully, turning it over in her fingers. "So we're holding their entire facility hostage with this thing?"
I nodded. "It's one of Josa's specials. She had help from me in slicing together the different programs, which was hard to accomplish because she hates slicing work with a passion."
Bo smirked, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I didn't know you were good at slicing."
I shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "I'm not as good as Josa by any means, but I'm not bad either. I surprisingly picked it up well over the past few months."
Anakin nodded in agreement. "He's right. Cain helped me improve my lightsaber training program significantly, and he helps tune up the starships in the hangar all the time. The man has a magic touch for technology, even though his piloting skills could use a lot of work." He grinned at that last part, and I rolled my eye in response.
Seris spoke up, her voice carrying the pride. "The Sephi species possesses a unique affinity for droids and machinery. Thanks to our innate curiosity and instinctive tinkerer mentality, we're considered some of the best builders and engineers in the galaxy. I heard from my mother that our species native planet of Thustra is a reflection of that talent."
Barriss nodded thoughtfully. "That explains why so many Sephi are working on the orbital station construction. They've been making remarkable progress."
I smiled slightly. "They're the reason why construction is going faster than expected. Though they get so curious sometimes that they want to redo things, saying they could make improvements. It's both helpful and occasionally frustrating."
Bo brought the conversation back to the mission at hand. "Back to Kamino, what do I do after production is halted? They still have ARC troopers and command staff on standby. And Jango Fett is there with other Mandalorian trainers."
I met her gaze directly. "Tell the Kaminoans to look at the additional data on the chip. It contains evidence of what the clones were really being created for, and who's been pulling the strings. But don't forget to ground Jango and the other Mandalorians. We can't have him reporting back to Dooku or Sidious. I'll be there as soon as I can to help negotiate and explain the full situation."
Bo nodded, her expression turning serious and determined. "I'll gather my people and prepare for departure."
I turned to Seris, my expression softening slightly. "I have an important mission for you as well."
Her ears flicked forward with interest, her silver eyes focused intently on me. "Name it, Cain."
"I need you to go to Dathomir. Mother Talzin hasn't answered any of my holo transmissions over the past few weeks, and I'm getting concerned. I need you to see what's going on, make sure she's okay. And if she is, I need her to know that it's time to join our growing praxeum. But she must agree to free her male slaves and show penance for their servitude. We can discuss the specific terms later, but that's non-negotiable."
Seris nodded immediately, without hesitation. "I can do that. But I have a feeling that even though she's your master, she won't listen easily to me. Nightsisters aren't known for taking direction from outsiders."
Master Fay stepped forward, her ancient voice carrying wisdom and authority. "I would like to accompany her on this mission."
Shaak Ti inclined her head in agreement. "Seris is my Padawan, so I will be going as well. Between the three of us, we should be able to handle any situation that arises."
I nodded gratefully. "Of course, Masters, and thank you."
Then I faced Anakin, and my expression became more serious for what I was about to say. "Anakin, I'm going to Atollon to meet the Bendu. I want you and Derren with me."
Anakin and Derren looked at each other and grinned, clearly excited about the prospect. "Of course," Anakin said enthusiastically.
Derren chuckled, his tone light but perceptive. "From the look in your eye, you're making it sound like something serious is involved."
I rubbed the edge of the scar beneath my eyepatch, the gesture betraying my nervousness. "It is serious. Because we're stopping somewhere first, before we go to Atollon."
The room went quiet, everyone sensing that whatever I was about to say would be significant.
I took a deep breath and said the words that I knew would cause conflict with Anakin, and possibly Obi-wan the most. "We need to go to Lotho Minor first. That's where Maul is, and we're going to bring him to Kamino to be treated and brought back to health."
I looked at Bo-Katan. "Speaking of which, Bo, I need you to bring some ysalamiri in their environmental containers with you to Kamino. We'll need them to keep Maul contained and unable to access the Force during his recovery and... rehabilitation, which they will also help with."
Anakin's smile vanished instantly, replaced by an expression of shock and anger. A rush of emotion flooded through our Force bond, rage, pain. "Please tell me you're joking," he said, his voice tight with barely controlled fury. "Please tell me we're going there to finally kill him, to end the monster who murdered Qui-Gon."
I shook my head slowly, my expression sympathetic but firm. "No, Anakin. We're going there to save him."
The air in the room went cold, the temperature seeming to drop several degrees as the implications of my words sank in.
"Why, Cain?" Anakin's voice rose, sharp and demanding. "He's a monster. A weapon of the Sith who's caused nothing but pain and death. He killed Qui-Gon in cold blood, cut him down right in front of Obi-Wan. Why would we save someone like that?"
"He's also Mother Talzin's son," I replied quietly, letting that fact settle before continuing. "He's the witness we need to prove who Sidious really is and expose his actions to the galaxy. And Talzin... she has a lot in common with your mother, Anakin. She, like Shmi, was going to lose her son to a form of slavery that would kill him. She gave Maul up to try to save him, to protect him from a fate worse than death. She lost her mate to the same way of life that enslaved his people."
Anakin's voice rose even higher, his emotions boiling over. "She gave him to Sidious! She handed her own son over to a Sith Lord! She's nothing like my mother!"
Obi-Wan placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder, his voice calm but firm. "Anakin, calm yourself. Let Cain finish explaining."
I met Anakin's gaze directly, unflinching despite the anger and pain I could feel radiating from him. "Anakin, if you need to, you can fight him first when we find him. Face him, confront him about what he did to Qui-Gon. And if you decide that killing him is the right thing to do, that justice demands his death... I won't stop you. I'll respect your choice, and I'll talk to Talzin about the consequences if that's what happens."
Everyone in the room looked at me with surprise evident in their eyes, shocked that I would make such an offer.
Barriss spoke softly, her voice carrying concern and confusion. "But killing someone in cold blood... that isn't the Jedi way. That's not what we're supposed to stand for."
I turned to her, my expression serious but not unkind. "We're not Jedi anymore, Barriss. Not in the traditional sense. We're becoming something new, something that has to adapt to the realities of the galaxy we live in. We will have to kill people sometimes, especially if it brings balance to the Force and protects innocent lives. But it's not our first resort either. We don't kill casually or out of anger. We kill when there's no other choice, when it's the only way to stop greater evil."
Obi-Wan nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. "That's why I should go with you. You and Anakin shouldn't have to face this alone."
I shook my head firmly. "Actually, I need you with Bo-Katan on Kamino. Your diplomatic skills and your reputation will be crucial in negotiating with the Kaminoans. They respect Jedi, and having you there will give our position more legitimacy."
Obi-Wan studied both me and Anakin for a long moment, his expression troubled but accepting. Finally, he sighed. "Then come back alive, and in one piece this time. I'm saying that to all of you going on these missions."
Everyone nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of what we were about to undertake.
Master Kuro stepped forward, his presence commanding despite his quiet demeanor. Adi Gallia, Taria Damsin, and Quinlan Vos moved to stand beside him. "We'll hold things down here on Tython," Kuro said. "The temple and the surrounding settlements will be protected."
I bowed my head respectfully. "Thank you, Masters. Thank you, everyone, for your trust and support."
Seris suddenly spoke up, her voice carrying a note of insistence that made me pay attention. "Cain, my mother and family are getting impatient about you and me visiting Corellia. After these missions are complete, we have to make time to go there. Otherwise, I fear they will come here themselves, and I really want to avoid that scenario."
I nodded nervously, remembering the implications of meeting Seris's family, of what that visit might mean for our relationship and our future. "Right. After this, we take a quick break from all the hard work, and we go visit your family. I promise, Seris."
Seris stepped closer to me, her silver eyes intense and serious. "I will hold you to that promise, Cain."
I met her gaze and nodded. "I know you will."
I turned to address the entire room one final time. "Right. Now everyone, let's move out. We have a lot of work to do, and the galaxy won't wait for us to be ready."
As the meeting broke up and people began filing out to prepare for their respective missions, I stood at the table for a moment longer, staring at the holographic map of the galaxy. So many systems, so many worlds, so many lives hanging in the balance.
Anakin approached me, his expression still troubled but more controlled than before. "Cain," he said quietly, "I need to know. Do you really think Maul can be saved? That he can be anything other than what Sidious made him?"
I turned to face my best friend, my brother in all but blood. "Honestly? I don't know. But I know that everyone deserves a chance at redemption, even those who've fallen the furthest. And I know that if we don't at least try, we're no better than the Sith who see people as tools to be used and discarded." I thought of how Anakin was in the very same situation and Luke still tried to save him.
Anakin was quiet for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Okay. I trust you, Cain. But if he tries anything, if he shows even a hint of being the same monster who killed Qui-Gon..."
"Then you do what you have to do," I finished. "I won't judge you for it, and I won't stop you."
Anakin clasped my shoulder, and I felt the complex mix of emotions through our bond, anger and grief, but also trust and determination. "Let's go see a Sith Lord, then. Force help us all."