The stars stretched into white lines as the Republic transport slipped into hyperspace. The thrum of the engines was the only sound for a long while — steady, mechanical, and strangely comforting after the chaos of Teth.
Inside the dim hold, clones moved quietly between control panels, their white armor streaked with grime. Ahsoka sat near the bulkhead, trying to feed Rotta from a small nutrient pack. The little Hutt refused to cooperate, squirming and wailing.
"Come on, Stinky," she sighed. "You've got to eat something."
Rotta let out a pitiful gurgle and sneezed green mucus across her tunic.
"Ugh—gross!" she yelped, holding him at arm's length.
Kaelen, seated across from her with his knees drawn up, couldn't help the faint smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe he just doesn't like being called 'Stinky.'"
Ahsoka shot him a look. "You got a better idea?"
He tilted his head, eyes softening as he looked at the Huttlet's trembling form. "When I was little," he said quietly, "my mother used to sing something when I was frightened. Maybe it would calm him."
Anakin glanced back from the cockpit. "You sing, kid?"
Kaelen's cheeks colored slightly. "Only when I have to."
The clones chuckled under their breath. Ahsoka crossed her arms. "Alright, Mandalorian boy, let's hear it."
Kaelen exhaled and leaned forward, resting his hand gently on the Huttlet's slimy brow. His voice, when he began, was low and steady — soft as rain on beskar.
"Ke nu'jurkadir sha Manda'yaim,Naas laandur, naas chaavla, bal naas cha'ven,Elek'oya, ad'ika, cuyir solus,Manda bal kad, hertaa bal kyr'am — darasuum."
His words rolled through the air in the liquid rhythm of Mando'a, ancient and mournful. Even the clones fell silent.
"Do not fear, child of the world,There is no pain, no battle, no ending,Sleep, little one, you are not alone,The armor and the heart, death and life — eternal."
By the time the final syllables faded, the ship was silent except for the hum of the engines.Rotta's cries had softened to quiet coos. He blinked his small eyes and nestled against Ahsoka's arm, finally drifting into sleep.
Ahsoka blinked, surprised. "That actually worked."
Kaelen smiled faintly, voice barely above a whisper. "It always did for me."
Anakin gave him a long look, something like respect flickering in his eyes. "Your mother must have been something special."
Kaelen's gaze dropped to the floor. "She was."
Hours passed. The ship's lights dimmed as they moved deeper into hyperspace. Ahsoka dozed with Rotta curled against her, while Anakin sat in the cockpit with Rex, scanning navigation readouts. Kaelen stayed in the cargo hold, alone in the dim blue light.
He could still feel the echo of his song hanging in the air, soft as a ghost. But beneath it, something darker stirred — a ripple in the Force, faint at first, then rising like a tide. His breath caught.
The walls around him seemed to melt away. The stars outside the viewport stretched, fractured, and became fire.
He saw warriors in beskar armor clashing beneath red skies, their jetpacks streaking across burning cities. He heard the screams of thousands — Mandalorian and Jedi alike — locked in endless combat. The ground shook with the march of droids, the whine of ships, the cries of the dying.
Then — Revan's mask flashed before him, crimson and black, eyes burning with both sorrow and power. Behind it, a voice — deep, layered, timeless.
"War is the forge of destiny. And all forges demand fire."
Kaelen gasped and stumbled back, gripping the edge of a crate. His saber clattered to the floor. The vision vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving only the cold hum of hyperspace.
He bent over, chest heaving. The smell of ash clung to his senses even though none was there. He looked down at his hands — they were shaking.
Footsteps approached.
Anakin stepped out from the cockpit, brow furrowed. "You alright, kid?"
Kaelen hesitated. "I… saw something."
"Another vision?"
He nodded slowly. "Mandalorians. Jedi. Fire everywhere. It felt… real. Like it already happened. Or will."
Anakin's expression darkened. "Visions can be tricky. The Force shows you what you fear, not always what will come."
Kaelen shook his head. "This wasn't fear. It was memory."
Anakin studied him for a moment. "You're strong in the Force, Kaelen. Stronger than most Padawans I've seen. But don't let it drown you. You start chasing every image you see, you'll lose what's real."
Kaelen managed a small, humorless smile. "Spoken like someone who's tried."
Anakin's jaw tightened, but then he nodded. "Yeah. I have."
They stood in silence for a moment, the hum of the ship filling the void between them. Then Anakin clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Get some rest. You'll need it on Tatooine."
Kaelen watched him leave, then turned back to the stars. The reflection of his purple saber crystal glimmered faintly in the viewport. For a moment, he thought he saw flames again — a city burning, armored silhouettes falling into shadow.
He whispered to himself, barely audible:
"Manda bal kad, hertaa bal kyr'am — darasuum."("The armor and the heart, death and life — eternal.")
He didn't know if it was comfort or warning anymore.
Elsewhere – Coruscant
In the darkened chambers of the Jedi Temple, Yoda stirred. His ears twitched, his eyes narrowing as he sat alone in meditation.Through the currents of the Force, a vision passed — faint, distorted, but unmistakable: Mandalorian armor burning under crimson skies.
"Shadow of old wars… rising again, I sense," he murmured.The stars beyond Coruscant flickered like dying embers.