Balun Dashiell
Dashiell Retrofit™
Balun snorted softly, a quiet laugh slipping through his nose as he tried not to wake Kellan. "Sorry, but you wanted to know—and I'm still trying to come to terms with it myself. It's not like I planned for this to happen," he murmured, a wary smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
The weight of responsibility hadn't fully settled in yet, but it was pressing on him heavier with each passing hour. He had spent the night wrestling with his thoughts, coming to grips with the sheer magnitude of what had happened. He was barely twenty-two, still figuring out his own path, and yet here he was—holding his son against his chest, no longer just responsible for himself, but for another life entirely.
His gaze drifted momentarily, thoughts flickering back to Naboo. He had only returned yesterday after meeting Master
Zhea Nox
, a powerful Force User and a potential mentor who could complete his Jedi training. Just a day ago, his greatest concern had been honing his skills, forging his own path in the Force.
But that was yesterday.
Today, everything had changed.
Balun still craved growth, still needed guidance and mastery over the Force—but now? Now, he couldn't afford to let his personal ambitions come at the expense of his son. Kellan came first. Nouqai had already walked away, leaving their child in the arms of
Judah Dashiell
before vanishing without so much as a conversation. If Balun failed, if he made reckless choices and got himself killed, Kellan would be orphaned.
That thought had haunted him in the quiet hours of the night, as he sat awake watching his son sleep, struggling to map out a future that wouldn't leave Kellan alone in the galaxy. Judah had been right—the boy would go where Balun went, and that meant staying out of unnecessary danger. It wasn't just his life at risk anymore.
Balun exhaled slowly as
Makai Dashiell
spoke, voicing his own frustrations about Nouqai Veil's decision. Balun gave a small nod, rubbing a hand gently along Kellan's back. "There's been no contact since we broke up. Nothing. Then, out of nowhere, she shows up, drops him in Dad's lap, and disappears."
He paused, glancing down at Kellan, as if the boy himself were the unspoken end to his sentence. "I didn't even know she was pregnant." His voice was quieter now, edged with a tinge of disbelief.
Makai wasn't wrong about the child's aquatic nature—it was plain to see. Kellan bore a crown of small, tentacle-like tendrils, weaving through the thick dark hair that was so common in Dashiell men. His skin gleamed, soft to the touch but patterned in an almost scale-like shimmer, catching the light in a way that made him look almost bioluminescent. And last night, in the dim glow of Balun's home, he had finally noticed something else—gills, nestled just behind the boy's elongated ears.
Kellan could breathe underwater.
Balun let out a breath, his fingers absently tracing circles on the boy's back. "Honestly, I don't know a thing about his physiology," he admitted. "Nouqai was a science experiment—crafted by the Sith. She doesn't belong to a classified species. The closest thing to a name for it is Sithspawn."
There was no manual for raising a child like Kellan. No holobooks to explain how to care for something part-Human, part-Aquatic, and part… something else.
"People like her were made through Sith Alchemy and the Force." He met Makai's gaze, his expression unreadable. "So with this one? There's no way to know. Not without trial and error."
The weight of responsibility hadn't fully settled in yet, but it was pressing on him heavier with each passing hour. He had spent the night wrestling with his thoughts, coming to grips with the sheer magnitude of what had happened. He was barely twenty-two, still figuring out his own path, and yet here he was—holding his son against his chest, no longer just responsible for himself, but for another life entirely.
His gaze drifted momentarily, thoughts flickering back to Naboo. He had only returned yesterday after meeting Master

But that was yesterday.
Today, everything had changed.
Balun still craved growth, still needed guidance and mastery over the Force—but now? Now, he couldn't afford to let his personal ambitions come at the expense of his son. Kellan came first. Nouqai had already walked away, leaving their child in the arms of

That thought had haunted him in the quiet hours of the night, as he sat awake watching his son sleep, struggling to map out a future that wouldn't leave Kellan alone in the galaxy. Judah had been right—the boy would go where Balun went, and that meant staying out of unnecessary danger. It wasn't just his life at risk anymore.
Balun exhaled slowly as

He paused, glancing down at Kellan, as if the boy himself were the unspoken end to his sentence. "I didn't even know she was pregnant." His voice was quieter now, edged with a tinge of disbelief.
Makai wasn't wrong about the child's aquatic nature—it was plain to see. Kellan bore a crown of small, tentacle-like tendrils, weaving through the thick dark hair that was so common in Dashiell men. His skin gleamed, soft to the touch but patterned in an almost scale-like shimmer, catching the light in a way that made him look almost bioluminescent. And last night, in the dim glow of Balun's home, he had finally noticed something else—gills, nestled just behind the boy's elongated ears.
Kellan could breathe underwater.
Balun let out a breath, his fingers absently tracing circles on the boy's back. "Honestly, I don't know a thing about his physiology," he admitted. "Nouqai was a science experiment—crafted by the Sith. She doesn't belong to a classified species. The closest thing to a name for it is Sithspawn."
There was no manual for raising a child like Kellan. No holobooks to explain how to care for something part-Human, part-Aquatic, and part… something else.
"People like her were made through Sith Alchemy and the Force." He met Makai's gaze, his expression unreadable. "So with this one? There's no way to know. Not without trial and error."