Dawn came slowly to Maridun.
Mist clung to the tall grasses like a living thing, curling around the huts of the Lurmen village as if the world itself wished to shield them from what had passed during the night. Burn marks scarred the earth beyond the clearing, and twisted droid parts lay half-buried where the fighting had ended.
Kaelen stood at the edge of the village, staring out across the field where the last of the Separatist force had fallen.
He felt no triumph.
Only weight.
Behind him, the Lurmen gathered quietly, their voices low, uncertain. Tee Watt Kaa emerged from one of the huts, his posture still composed—but something in his eyes had changed.
"You fought again," he said softly, coming to stand beside Kaelen.
Kaelen nodded. "They would have destroyed the village."
"Yes," Tee Watt Kaa said. "And yet… they came because you were here."
The words struck deeper than any accusation.
Kaelen lowered his gaze. "We didn't choose this war."
"No," the Lurmen leader replied. "But you chose not to look away."
Silence stretched between them.
At last, Tee Watt Kaa bowed his head slightly.
"My people believe peace is preserved by refusing violence," he said. "But today, I saw another truth. Peace sometimes survives only because others are willing to stand between it and destruction."
Kaelen felt something loosen in his chest.
"That doesn't make us better," Kaelen said quietly. "Just… responsible."
Tee Watt Kaa nodded once. "Then go with responsibility, Jedi."
Farewell
Aayla Secura addressed the village later that morning, thanking the Lurmen for their aid and offering Republic support—medical supplies, reconstruction assistance. As in the histories, the Lurmen declined weapons.
Peace, on their terms.
Anakin stood off to the side, arms crossed. "I still don't get it," he muttered to Ahsoka. "They'd rather risk dying than fight."
Ahsoka frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe they're stronger than we think."
Anakin snorted. "Or incredibly stubborn."
Kaelen overheard but said nothing.
HK-47, standing beside him, tilted his head.
"Observation: Their refusal to adopt weapons will likely result in future invasions and unacceptable casualty rates."
Kaelen glanced at him. "Maybe. Or maybe they'll survive because everyone underestimates them."
HK processed this.
"Reluctant Concession: That is… statistically possible."
Ahsoka laughed. "I think that's the closest thing to optimism I've heard from him."
HK straightened.
"Clarification: Do not get used to it."
Quiet Recognition
As the group prepared to leave, Aayla approached Kaelen privately.
"You steadied the battle," she said. "I felt it. Not control—guidance."
Kaelen hesitated. "I didn't mean to."
"That may be why it worked," she replied gently. "Be careful with that gift. Others will notice."
Kaelen swallowed. "I know."
Anakin clapped him on the shoulder. "Whatever you did, it helped. Just… don't start doing it to me without asking."
Ahsoka grinned. "Yeah—no mind tricks on the team."
Kaelen smiled faintly. "Deal."
HK leaned in.
"Statement: I authorize full tactical influence on my behavior at all times, Master."
Kaelen deadpanned. "Absolutely not."
Departure
The gunship lifted off from Maridun, leaving the green world intact behind them. As clouds swallowed the surface, Kaelen felt the Force settle—quiet, reflective.
He sat near the ramp, staring out into the stars.
Battle Meditation wasn't about winning.
It was about bearing the cost of leadership—feeling every life, every risk, every consequence.
Bastila's words echoed softly in his mind.
Responsibility.
HK broke the silence.
"Analytical Summary: This mission resulted in survival, minimal loss, and no planetary domination. Overall assessment: unsatisfying but effective."
Kaelen exhaled. "That's one way to put it."
The gunship jumped to hyperspace.
And Kaelen Shan—Padawan, warrior, and unwilling guide of others' fates—felt his path narrowing.
Not toward legacy.
But toward choice.