Divisive (Kaine Australis)

[Manu Xextos]

“Dear Kaine, I have been wary of you as a river is wary of a dam. You alone have the perspicacity to create wonders of destructive measures, and you alone will be the one to drag Yasha into a war. Yasha always was a unique and special child. I saw the future in her eyes that first moment I held her in my arms. My ears held her first cry and it was one of future power. This faded image you know is not the Yasha Mantis who belongs in this Galaxy. She is a half-self, a broken idol in a pantheon with too few gods. She needs to be whole, although she fears it. She fears being made whole will make her a monster and I have to admit… she might be right.

Only with guidance will she become the Mand’alor your people need.

The Force is part of you, man! Be bold. Take hold of your gift and use it. You used it once and Adara lived. Take Yasha to Ithor. Reunite her with that piece of herself which is failing her. What keeps her ignorant of the Dark Lord’s infamy is what protects her from the Force itself. If she can but feel his presence in the Force, if she can feel the difference between the Dark and Light, she will understand. Be wary of Zambrano’s son. He reminds her of a vision she had in the Netherworld, although she will never admit it. Kaden spoke of it to Gray and I. Give my love to my family, and know that deep within what was once Fringe Space, there is a Cloning facility designed by the former Lords of those lands. Aditya had clones there, of herself and of me. Aboard the Myrmadinas, a beta-tested AI unit may contain enough of my neural map to be placed within a clone. If it works, bring the clone to my great-grandfather, Manu Xextos on Sabarene. He will know what to do..... Dear Kaine....”

The recording jittered and repeated from its’ origins, words for a man named Gray. I sit in my Ward Room on board the Brynyar, looking out at the space outside my view port. It’s the spacer in me to attempt to navigate through constellations.

As the recording continues, and the voice of [member="Baiko no Kaho"] continues to fill my space, I wonder if this message should even be delivered to the man I met on [member="Veiere Arenais"]’ ship.

Would [member="Kaine Australis"] want to hear Baiko’s final words? Why she thought to put faith in such a man is beyond me. If he comes, I will show him. If he doesn’t? I will fill her wishes myself.

Something rustles behind me, from the lack of presence, I guess a droid came bumbling in by mistake.

“Shut the door. Disturb me only for this Australis fellow.”

 

[Manu Xextos]

Baiko’s message played for the thirteenth time before I shut the holorecording down and sat in my meditation chamber to await the man I called for.

[member="Kaine Australis"], the most aggressive man in the Mandalorian Empire, and that alone gave me planetary levels of pause. The man was volatile and uncouth, everything a Mandalorian desires in their brashest heroes. I grit my teeth.

It came to an Echani attempting to speak with a Mandalorian marauder about the Peace of the Force and mystic ... what would they call it? Something vile.

“Sir...” the Ensign spoke no further. There was no need for her to speak on my ship.

So... Australis was coming? Sitting in my sphere, I let the ship and its hundreds fall as familiar melody in the back of my mind. Australis’ dissonance is faint at first, the distance spanning us vast. Yet once the chord was recognized for who and what it was, my inner eyes are opened.

The conception of Baiko’s plan unravels like flower petals in a bud come spring. My great-granddaughter was wily indeed to create such contingencies of her own demise.

While I cannot delve deep into Australis mind, nor would I without permission, my inner presence is impossible to ignore.

Light indomitable. Never fading, never failing, never going dim toward that darker way. Where the Dark Lord is decrepit and unrelenting in his pursuit of conflict and battle for battle’s sake, I cast my vision outward to heal and rebuild that which conflict lost.

His soul is old. Ancient as the foundations of this galaxy. Another time traveller? How funny for the Light to bring me another who shares my plight.

Upon his proper docking procedures, an honour guard of Echani dressed in the cortosis and armourweave of my wife’s royal house bring him silently through the ship.

We are tradition as well as healing, and as such there was no need to waste sound on insincere greetings.

The group ushered Australis into the sitting area in my quarters, and I wait until I feel him sit before unfolding myself from my meditative position and pad barefoot and draped in white.

Before a word of my own is spoken, I play the message from Baiko. Every jitter, every twitch of armour and man will be scrutinized in the proper way.

Yet words? Oh Baiko had so many, I first must see what he does with her desperate final words.

 

[Manu Xextos]

Mandalorians spend their lives detached and hidden from those of us with proper sight. They live in cages, bound by their Resol’nare and its’ laws, locked away from the universe in armour, constantly expecting a battle, where none is due. Echani are brave. We require no cage to feel safe, for we alone are capable of avoiding such harms.

All I get from [member="Kaine Australis"] is silence and the clench and release of his fists. Guarded is the man, guarded and tense of word. The removal of his helmet gives a respectful view of his face, and what a marauder’s face it is. Hard. Unrelenting.

Two steps removed from wise.

“I did.” The chair I choose to sit in has a twin across the low table. A man with my identical face, but for his youth, sets down a tray of tea and blossom wine, bows and fades back in the background.

“I thought of conducting the requests myself, and leaving you out of it… to be frank, I remain unconvinced of whether I made the right call by asking you here… but I had to see you away from Veiere. His… anger and desperation were destroying my inner calm.” The tea pours itself, as does the blossom wine, cups moving across the table and in my case, coming up to my hands.

“I knew Yasha’s mother Aditya back in the Army of Light days. She burst into any room she was in with this… unlimited energy and happiness. Nothing in the universe could get her down, she defied apathy and sadness.” My eyes sparkle and smile grows as I picture Aditya rushing in to the first meeting, giving people hugs when the discussion got too haggard for their own good. “Then she met Preliat Mantis, and within a few short months, Aditya’s joy was gone.”

The smile fades, destroyed by the memory of Aditya’s jitters. Her fears.

“Marrying a Mandalorian destroyed her. Yes, I thought long and hard before entrusting you with my great-granddaughter’s final wishes. Ultimately, I know why Baiko didn’t come home to Sabarene, when I asked. If Yasha was born with sensitivity to the Force, Aditya would have smothered her to death, rather than raise her. It would have been a kinder fate, than if her father found out. Baiko was protecting Yasha, and since Baiko is family, and Yasha was hers, that makes this my problem, too.”

 

[Manu Xextos]

“If a traumatized child of a young woman is your best bet for leadership, the Mandalorians are more worrisome than I thought. Then again, Amidala was twelve.” The disappearance of the Undying, while flooding the galaxy with relief, came at a cost I for one believe was too high.

Who in their right mind takes a child soldier and hoists her that high? Mantis was ripe for Carnifex’s picking, a girl who from all accounts begged tenderness out of whatever fatherly figure would have her. She needed therapy. Not a crown.

“I know there’s one on Annaj. And another...” Another of the honour guards stepped forward, placing a holo projector on the table between us. He is, yet again, another that shares my face. Most of the men on this ship do... as most of the women share either my mother or wife’s face. A map of Fringe space juxtaposes on FO territory, the expanse one which bore them.

“The majority of Fringe space is now First Order territory and a lot of it is heavily guarded.” Location beacons ping softly, unconvinced birds roosting sickly on their new galactic colours.

“We can assume the more prominent ones were ransacked, or the clones left fallow. The more secretive bases were automated by droids. Our best bet is Atrisia, or searching the cloning facilities nearer Sabarene. Otherwise it’ll be black ops, infill and locate, then get the heck out.” Espionage and clone body stealing. Must be spring time on Sabarene.

“Carnifex made a mistake. He came to My planet. He harmed My people and it was enough to get me off my meditative backside... but be cautious of bringing Adara to Ithor with Yasha. If she could call Zambrano across the Galaxy over a tummy ache, what would she do if she saw her mother in a compromised position? Be cautious. If he could hear her, what’s to say he isn’t able to enter her mind and see through Adara’s eyes? Whatever comes of it, Yasha’s status must be kept secret.”

[member="Kaine Australis"]

 

[Manu Xextos]

The data chit inside the holo projector veers out of it, flying into Australis' nearest hand. Information given.

"He killed Baiko with impunity, destroyed carriers with over seven hundred crewmen each in single shots, torched a desert into glass for a five year old girl and her future under his thumb. Have you considered Carnifex might think a war for the child and any of Yasha's future children is worth the risk? The girl was raised in Chaos. If it were my decision, I'd sterilize Yasha now to avoid any potential future powder kegs... you're Mandalorians. She'd adopt. Baiko did extensive digging into Yasha's Panathan family... you may require what she found. Including the genetic ties of her maternal grandfather's family to the force-bearing Deacons of the Panathan gods. The intel is on the chit."

There was yet a moment the Mandalorian marauder hadn't seen, and I am loathe to bring it to his attention. No one wants to see their child in such a fashion. The Holo Projector shifts on the table top, another scene from orbital satellites playing for his eyes. A little girl in Chiara's arms, struggling against my daughter. An Echani with raven hair producing swords out of nothing, filling the surrounding atmosphere with illusions which even fooled droid visual processors. A black robed man running, face taught as a father charging after the kidnapper of his own child. Carnifex. The battle clanged to fruition with Baiko's polearm and Carnifex's lightsaber, my great-granddaughter proving to be utterly capable against the marauding foe. Adara continued to struggle, reaching out...

... for Carnifex. Dark energies flowed between them, expanding their abilities and focus. Baiko's swordplay was perfect, not a stroke nor finger out of place. She was a match for the Dark Lord.

And in a moment of childish panic, fed by the swirling black and red energy between Adara and Carnifex, Adara screamed. An explosion of the Dark surged from the child, sand moving so quickly through the air it cut Baiko and Carnifex's face. Chiara was blown back and away, Baiko was taken off her feet, launched over thirty metres, before disappearing into the Current. Carnifex dropped and ran for the child, as Baiko flickered into existence atop her. Weapon raised. He cradled the girl as if she were the most important object in the universe, cuddled to his own chest as Baiko swung... and Carnifex's sabre stabbed out into the middle of Baiko's form.

"That girl has rare and uncompromising potential, which had nothing to do with the manner of her resurrection." Baiko disappeared, nothing remained but ruined clothing rustling in the cacophonous wind of her granddaughter's tempest. Carnifex continued to hold the child after the danger was over, bending on his knees to check her injuries over. The scene ended and I stutter a held breath.

"Australis." Silver eyes glint harshly across the table to the helmet-less Mandalorian. "Only one with true power could have raised that little girl from the dead. I've only known one Force Master capable of stopping death completely, and it fragmented her mind to ribbons and ragged bows. There was no carbonite or... subspace accident which brought me to my eight hundredth and thirty seventh year of life... nor did I get here on my own. Whatever was done to save Adara's life... it wasn't some... ghostly relic of a painful past. Regardless of what you wish to think, without you, it could not have been done. I can teach you the ways of healing, of rejuvenation. My daughter [member="Chiara Viren"] was not wrong, when she urged Baiko to let Adara stay on Sabarene. A shift can be made, and you must lead the way. I wonder if Adara's bond with Carnifex is so strong, because she searches for her father's spirit, and he cannot be found."

Mandalorians loved to adopt lost causes. According to the records and word from Yasha, Kaine was the spiritual father of the Infernal Child. Strange for an Echani to raise one who shares neither Echanar's face... if I hadn't adopted that little bundle dying of cold on Yavin IV, I too might have been too blind to see a father's love in [member="Kaine Australis"]' countenance.

 

[Manu Xextos]

A man’s duty was to affect his progeny in positive and lasting ways. I spent too long in absentia to be proud of my parental legacy. Yet the love I have for Chiara and my departed children held me to this plane long enough for Ahani to stop her worry that I would fade. The man before my eyes holds the same resignation, which kept me in battle with my arch nemesis for eight hundred years. I know nothing else which would guide me to help the human and his abominable love of war.





“I regret we do not have the time to be gentle.” My left hand reaches across the low table, pale skin on my knuckles beginning to luminesce. I place my thumb between his scarred eyebrows, this man of war and instinct.





The entire ship shunts away in a flash of light. We remain suspended in the cosmos, surrounded by flickering stars. The pain of a vacuum steals none of our oxygen, nor does the expanse remain soundless as the myriad graves this Mandalorian created. Music soars round us, gentle at first with the calming rhythm of good people conducting their regimented work. Each of the stars cloistered in the forms of the ships sing in their own empathic chorus, longer and more distant sounds carrying from the far off lights. I turn toward a constant and bittersweet chorus, spherical and emanating outward in pulsing, echoing waves.





Sabarene.





“This is what I experience, Kaine Australis. This is what I see. Everywhere I've been, every mind I've touched is here. Another star in my cosmos. Another strain of the universal hymn. Sabarene was my pride made manifest. Generations of my sons and daughters banded with refugees and those who followed my desire for holiness. Light. You need to know what it is... something none of the Jedi I've met in this time ever seem to do.” A hint of grief to my own strain of the hymn, the baritone soloist in the choir.





The vault of stars stretches around us, fleeing into strands of taffy-like light spilling behind our backs. Sabarene grows in our collective vision, until a vast ocean spills upon a glittering shore. A temple of stone rises above the landscape, ocean water sloshing into the altar room. Aberash Temple shines with blue and green light, runes cut into the surface with my own hands. The sun above is balmy and warm. The ocean waves rustle through the constant hymn, shifted now to a melancholy dirge for those who died for Yasha's child.





"I crafted Aberash to defy the Dark Ones, who usurped the unknown reaches of the galaxy. It stands as a living monument with one purpose: exalt the Light. Perilous is the Light. It heals all, who surrender, for surrender is the purpose of its' dominion. For centuries, so-called Jedi bastardized the teachings, attempting to neglect emotions, affection, pain. Even in a perfect moment of absolute surrender to the grace and mercy supplied here, the ache of a broken heart, the grief of lost loves, the pain of the sword exists. The Light does not want us to deny such things. No. What purpose would that serve? To deny what any can point to and say, 'but it's there, are you blind?' This alone remains the greatest of the Jedi lies, one which turn many toward the Dark."





I let Kaine discover the focused Light of the Temple, a lens without judgement, which carefully and fully searched every possible sin. Each, should he be willing, would be brought up, inspected, the lessons and foibles discerned.





"Accept your pain exists. Accept attachment enriches our lives. Accept that conflict and chaos are mutually natural states to harmonic serenity. Accept the right and wrong you have committed... for there is peace despite pain. Knowledge despite ignorance. Passion, yet serenity. Harmony extant in the Chaos. All the Light asks for is surrender and obedience to the one universal truth, which will never fail... Life wins. Life wins, and with it the Light. Let the weight of our times fall off your shoulders. Give it to the waters.





Life wins. Yasha and Adara are both testament enough of that. So are you and I."




[member="Kaine Australis"]

 

[Manu Xextos]

Glory without judgement, peace without ceasing was [member="Kaine Australis"]’ reward. Warriors are the hardest to surrender, for the act is beyond their combative sensibilities. It is neither easy, nor flippant an act. For all the trials it took to surrender, the end of surrender’s road was unlimited and abundant life.

I watch the struggle in this human, fighting against the experience. Against the loss of control or lack of places to hide. A soldier always did dig in, search for other options, until all else was exhausted. I have looked upon Kaine’s struggle a thousand fold, with ten thousand men and women.

The Light is indomitable and unrelenting. It allows no shadows, no hiding places. When one of the Light falls, it is a tumble from utmost grace. Many who say the Light is in them do not know it, for the ease in which they caterwaul off the edge as if it were a slide of deepening grey.

In the sanctum of my Temple, the Warmaster meets the divine act of constant life-sustaining creation. A lesson lies in its’ colours, fresh as spring growth, full as summer’s harvest. Life eternal, not stolen or removed from others as his daughter uses to sustain, but never ending and abiding no sin.

Perfect, as the passion of creation is perfect.

It cleanses Kaine’s past until the waters of his soul run clear.

“We know the true ending of every war, we know the secret of the universe itself. Life always wins. Lines on maps, colours on flags are irrelevant to the greater truths. Just as your people are an idea as much as a racial set, the Mando’ade recognize the sovereignty of life in something as hardened as death. Death is finite, flimsy as plastic. All the Dark can do to you is bring your fears to a torturous chamber of misgivings, and play doubt and subterfuge as the greatest infamy.

Even if the Dark murders us, we belong to the Life Abundant, and death is not our end.” I descend to the broken and reconstructed Mandalorian in his surrender, and like a father to an infinite number of sons, cup his face in my hands.

“We will never stop until all our tasks are done. Allow this realization to banish fear. We will never leave our loved ones, we will never lose the purity of what we build, when it is the Light’s beck and call. Every battle, every soldier’s loss or enemy’s advance must be met with the same impervious courage. We cannot fall.” I speak with a choir of voices, all the iterations of wise creatures who found the true path of the Light accord and at once giving Kaine his harrowing indoctrination.

“Open your eyes.” A thumb pushes on a man’s forehead. We arise from the cosmic not to the ward room on the Brynyar, but on a beach in the desert of Sabarene. To my left, Aberash Temple. To my right, the ocean waves waft and curl on the shore.

“Come with me, there is a place for your armour inside. You do not need it here… kind of hard to surf in beskar. Do Mandos drown? Always wondered about that one.” A kindly nod is all the warning I give on our somewhat miraculous shift in scenery. The sun begins its’ decline in the sky, casting shadows of purple and teal on the pale, yellow sky.

“Hurry up!”

 

[Manu Xextos]

“Love crafted Aberash from the fallow sand and granite of the sea’s shore. A longing for the life and family I lost. One reconstructed by a mother who’s penchant for clone-meat and psychic links brought my wife and daughter back to my arms.” As I waited for the Mandalorian to strip his armour and come in simpler clothes to the shore, I sat upon the sand, felt it drape over both feet.

“You’ll meet [member="Chiara Viren"] later, may get Erryn out, but she’s cleaning up after Carnifeth's mess.” The sound of the surf blisters away the cacophonic choir of empathic voices constantly thrumming in my skull. Salt in the air stings my eyes and nose.

A moment of serenity in the setting sun.

“The problem with most Light Sided Force Traditions is their concentration on one kind of Light. The Fallinassi gave themselves to the White Current, and lost any ability in physical manifestation for their invisibility and illusion. I’ve seen it centuries in and out in how easily the Jedi of this time seem to ditch their ethics for an ‘all or nothing’ or ‘ends justification’, when a battle doesn’t go their way. They’re so quick to glass a planet, or nuke a bunch of refugees for one slaver, who occupied a one hundredth of this planet. They think because they have some fictional moral high ground that when they sink to such tactics it’s a sign of desperation, and not the valley their morals are in. One of the things concerning me with Veiere Arenais. Who the feth holds the high ground, when they mention killing infants in their cradles, by association? The Sith might be evil. Doesn't make those rebels good. We know better. A battle lost is not hope crushed, but the necessity to shift tactic and come at the problem in a different way. Loss of life is regrettable, but it’s never truly lost. What passes returns in due course of time. We’re not candles, which once spent will never recover our original state. We’re waveforms. Melodies, harmonies, rhythms… fluctuations in an ocean of eternal sound…” I shake my head and let loose a chuckle, letting my white robes slough off thin shoulders down to a simple pair of knee length shorts.

“Listen to me, waxing poetic for a buckethead. My mother’d catch her death.” I push to my feet, my body more frail than one would expect for the seven foot frame, which bears me.

“You look like a long board man.” A weathered, grey wooden shack sits tilted on a near platform of rock. My first retreat here on the Sabareni ocean, it’s no larger than a few surf boards and a place for me to stretch out in sleep. At the time it was exactly what I needed, a place to drown out the empathic noise.

Now it’s just a shed. A lone, unkempt shed. I grab a couple of boards, letting one zoom telekinetically toward [member="Kaine Australis"], while I carry my own, a treated wooden short-board meant to carve the waves, under my arm.

“Surfing. You know, most of my students get all philosophical about me taking them surfing. Make up all this fiction about the secret lesson Master Xextos must be shilling on the waves.” I shrug and shake my head again, licking my lips. “I put you through an existential hurricane and slapped your soul around like a surf board in a tsunami, while the Light, which creates the Universe seared a path through every memory you’ve ever had.”

Nodding to the waves, I grin. “Time to decompress, eh? Sometimes a man needs a few decent waves to let it all sink in and rectify. That and… surfing’s fun. We need fun. Fun is good for the soul. Try to keep up! If you don’t know how to surf, remember, the ocean does! Feel it out. Connect with the water, steep into what it’s trying to tell you, it really doesn’t want you to drown in it… doesn’t know where you’ve been or how long you’ve been in that armour!”

I barrel straight for the waves, grinning as instead of sinking into the water, my feet collide with it. Chiara calls it cheating, but what can I say? My old Master taught me to surf without a board.

 

[Manu Xextos]

“Sun’s going down. Must be time to turn to the Dark Side, says every Jedi in the known universe.” I grin at what is sadly not so much of a joke. The purple and orange sun fades to a deep violet nightscape, no moon but a sliver. Yet, there is no pitch black to meet our eyes.

The ocean phosphoresces. Marine life shines under the waters, icthyoids, crustaceans, and mammals.

“Oh look, it’s like the Light knows or something. Like it never goes out.” I call, carving atop the crest of a rolling wave. I see [member="Kaine Australis"] go under, and bob back up. Good to know I didn’t just drown the Mandalorians’ Warmaster.

I shout out for the joy of it, laughing as Kaine body surfs the next wave. I kick off my board, telekinetically setting it under my arm. “You want to learn a new trick?”

Density of liquids and their modification is a particularly awesome trick, and fairly simple to achieve if one understands the scientific process of state fluctuation in a liquid-to-gas-to-solid.

But it looks freaking cool, when you walk on water.

“It’s not world shattering, but dang it’s fun.” I run out onto the water, knees bent as I slide across the waves on my bare feet. “And you can surf when you lose your board!”

 

[Manu Xextos]

“Same thing works in air, but I never took to flying like my mother does. If you see a female shaped shadow, duck and cover.” I laugh, running out into the waves and sliding down upon the crest of one with a yell.

Sabarene is the paradise of my heart and making. I created a sanctuary for the Light, and for my future children, who have lived and died for hundreds of years. Now, sharing it with this Mandalorian, I can see a few mean seconds of why my mother fell in love with one. A man of war becoming one of enjoyment in the seconds he was given to relax. Odd, how the Force works.

“Hurry up, Mandawetian! These waves won’t surf themselves!” I grin and ball up a sphere of water, and throw it at the man, an arc of water throwing up as the sphere flies. Sure, it’s just a water fight, but it’s also a way of gauging how much control he has, how well he can concentrate on multiple things at a time.

[member="Kaine Australis"]

 

[Manu Xextos]

“HahHAH!!” I slide down a breaker and hop onto the back of another wave, the sphere sloshing on the Mandalorian. A slightly soaked sod, sunken and surrounded by salt water. Hah. Alliteration.

Take that, better monologuing! [member="Kaine Australis"] falls into the water, and I slide across another breaker, splashing at his face for the heck of it. See if he can figure how to get back up? “It’s a trick of telekinesis, dude! Imagine up and go—oho!”

Splash!

The water beneath my feet no longer holds me up, and I slosh into the waves, watching fish float beside me in the water. The dude drowned me! Kind of! He totally got me!

I reach the surface of the water with a cackling laugh, as a shadow plunges overhead. Oh no… Not now! No, no, no wait…

I look up and see my mother, [member="Ahani Najwa"] flying around. She gives us a one-fingered wave and soars off toward Abha City.

“Good Light and Daytime you’re one lucky Mando. If she’d’ve landed, she’d immediately ask if you knew her third husband. Some Mandalorian, who lost his life during your cataclysm. Who am I kidding? You see my mother? You run. Grab whoever you love and run.” Shaking my head, I launch back up onto the water, and ride a wave toward the shore.

[member="Chiara Viren"] should be coming soon, my daughter that kind of heart who can’t help but to bring comfort and joy to others. “Wheeeeheeeeee!”

 

[Amz]

The setting sun on Sabarene let a chill seep in through the walls of her study, Chiara glanced up from her holo-book and shivered, shutting down the book by pressing a nodule along the spine. It was a recent text on galactic history, relevant to the time in which she now found herself. Indeed, the Force was ever myriad and mysterious in its ways.

She placed a hand over her mouth to cover a yawn and eased off her chair, taking a look at her chrono. Hours had passed, but she could have guessed as much. The soreness from her legs was indicative of that, and she rubbed her legs to try and will the blood to flow through them again.

Violet eyes glanced towards the guard standing stiffly near the entrance of the study, “I’m off to meet with Manu and our guest, now. Would you please see that the holo-books are returned to the shelves?” her head dipped in gratitude and a gentle smile took her lips, her hand reaching up to give his shoulder a squeeze. “Thank you kindly.” came her voice, a soft and melodic sound in the silence.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arriving at the beach, Chiara stood and remained a small distance from the shoreline, watching as the deep royal blue waves crept towards her and ran away again, waiting until the men were finished. A basket of goodies and a couple of towels were draped over the crook of her arm for them.

As Manu approached, a towel was held out. “I come bearing gifts,” she said with a warm smile, looking between the two. “And a few puff cakes as well, figured the both of you might have worked up enough of an appetite by now! Ah, Hello!” her head canted to the side a bit, a few wisps of fiery hair whipping out from the neatly arranged crown braid atop her head. “It’s wonderful to meet you, you must be Mister Australis? I am Chiara.”

[member="Manu Xextos"], [member="Kaine Australis"]

 

[Manu Xextos]

“Chiara.” A father’s grin plasters on my face, as I slide off my last wave, trotting along the beach to my daughter. Taking the towel, I grin back at [member="Kaine Australis"] and winked. “Water, eh?”

Clenching my fist, I send all the water droplets on my body in all directions, then rub the towel on Chiara’s head. “Love you. Thanks for coming.”

My hand rubs up and down her arm, taking a moment to breathe in the air around her. Glad she’s alive. She didn’t end up like Baiko, when Darth Carnifex attacked.

“Kaine Australis, my daughter Chiara.” Passing the man a towel, I snap my fingers and spheres of bioluminescent algae band together from the water, to create a larger sphere of light to help us on our way to the Temple, where the desert sun radiating off the thermal rocks always keeps us warm.

“Aw shucks. I’m not so great, just amazing and mythically powerful and a schnazzy dresser.” I laugh out of the side of my mouth, slinging my arm around Chiara’s shoulders as I guide them inside. “And puff cakes?! How do we rate, eh? Daughters always take care of their Dads, don’t they, Chia? Someday it’ll be Adara’s turn to take care of you, Kaine.”

A gentle reminder to my girl, whose father he was, why the man was here. The Force works in mysterious ways… especially when I throw down. Gee that was egotistical of me.