Timeframe: 32 BBY
Setting: Planet Kastavel, Outer Rim Trade Lane – Diplomatic escort turned crisis
The Briefing
The Jedi diplomatic ship Silver Light moved smoothly through hyperspace. In the main war room, a holo-projection glowed with the image of Kastavel, a rain-drenched planet known for its unstable merchant alliances and ancient, Force-sensitive ruins.
Obi-Wan Kenobi stood at the console, speaking clearly. "Kastavel's merchant guilds have reopened negotiations for Republic access. But several border systems oppose it. A Jedi escort was requested after an ambush last week left three diplomats dead."
Master Adi Gallia, stern yet warm, added, "We are to serve as mediators and defenders, not enforcers. If violence occurs, we de-escalate. If negotiation fails… we hold the line."
Anakin was practically vibrating in his seat. "So we get to protect people and talk down warlords? Finally."
Seris sat more composed, but her golden eyes burned with excitement. "We've trained for this. We're ready."
Cain leaned back in his seat, arms folded, watching the projection of the planet as it slowly rotated.
He didn't speak immediately.
Because in his mind, he was already running the simulation.
Three factions. Four trade routes. One unstable border. If talks fail, it won't be a riot. It'll be a siege.
He exhaled slowly.
These are the moments the Republic always underestimated. It's not the war that kills peace—it's the arrogance that believes it can't be lost.
As the briefing concluded, Cain stood and quietly pulled on his outer robe.
He wasn't nervous.
He wasn't excited.
He was focused.
It's strange, he thought, to be surrounded by people your age who aren't your age. Seris is sharp. Anakin is fire. They're younger than me on the outside and the inside. But they look at me like I'm one of them. Sometimes I forget I'm not.
His thoughts turned to Obi-Wan, who was only ten years older than Cain physically. Yet Cain had read his entire life in Legends—watched his sacrifices, his mistakes, his death.
He's not the man he'll become. Not yet. But he's already better than most Jedi I've known. He listens. He watches. He's learning, just like me, maybe I can help be more like Anakin.
Then he glanced at Adi Gallia, a Jedi Master and a diplomat.
She knows I see more than I let on. Fay warned her. I see it in her eyes—respect mixed with calculation. She's watching how much I choose to reveal.
Descent to Kastavel
The group landed near the neutral city of Voh-Tel, built into stone cliffs above crashing ocean tides. The storm rolled across black skies as diplomats gathered in a wide council hall.
Outside, militia soldiers, hired mercenaries, and merchant guards roamed the streets. Cain could feel the tension in every heartbeat around him.
As the group entered the chamber, Seris leaned toward Cain. "Feels like we're walking into a charged blaster."
Cain nodded. "It's not war. Not yet. But if the right voice says the wrong thing…"
He didn't finish.
He didn't need to.
Anakin smirked. "Then we'll just shut the wrong one up before it gets too loud."
Cain smiled faintly.
And there it is. The Skywalker way. Hope wrapped in thunder.
As the diplomats spoke, the conversation quickly turned tense.
The Outer House Warlord accused the Republic of stealing border mining rights.
A Republic Consul declared neutrality while threatening economic sanctions.
Obi-Wan raised a hand. "Please. You invited Jedi to mediate, not to preside over shouting matches."
But they kept shouting.
Until Cain stepped forward, calmly, with his hood still on.
He looked to the Warlord. "You believe the Republic is trying to erase your sovereignty."
Then to the Consul. "You think their defiance is a threat to galactic unity."
They both paused.
Cain lowered his hood. The gold-and-black hues of his eyes caught the dim council firelight.
"But the truth is, if either of you escalates… your own people suffer first. Not the trade routes. Not the pride of governments. The people. That's what's always forgotten."
Silence.
Even Obi-Wan blinked.
Then Master Adi nodded, approvingly. "Well said, Padawan Cain."
Cain stepped back.
Seris grinned, proud. Anakin whispered, "Okay, that was cool."
I don't need to lead, Cain thought. But when I speak, it has to matter.
The Threat Emerges
Later that night, an explosion rocked the council hall.
An assassination attempt—one of the warlords trying to frame the Republic by eliminating his own rival.
Cain and Seris were first to act, vaulting into the fire as guards panicked.
Anakin followed, covering with his saber.
Cain seeing support beam about to fall—pulling a diplomat to safety before it collapsed.
Seris locked blades with a masked assassin, drawing them out into the open.
Anakin chased the attacker down with raw speed.
It wasn't clean.
But it was effective.
Aftermath and Insight
Later, sitting in a rain-drenched watchtower overlooking Voh-Tel's stormy coast, Cain sat quietly, his cloak soaked.
Obi-Wan approached.
"You handled yourself well."
Cain nodded. "I've… seen how easily peace breaks when people want it to fail."
Obi-Wan looked at him carefully.
"You always speak like you've lived this twice."
Cain didn't answer at first.
Then: "history always repeats itself no matter where you are in the galaxy."
Obi-Wan stared for a moment. "You don't know how right you are."