Master Gatten Riel watched the boy lying unconscious on the cot. A large bandage hid half of his face but through the wrappings he could see fair skin and a cheek dotted with freckles. The boy couldn't be more than eleven, twelve maybe. He was slight and skinny as a flag pole, with brilliant red hair. Unnaturally red for a human, Gatten thought. The boy most likely had Sith blood.

"Master Gatten." A Wroonian approached him, holding out a battered holopad that was easily ten years old. "There's no exact match for the kid, but I found two similar bio-records which are likely his parents. His genetic make-up is close to that of a human named Malavai Quinn, who is an Admiral in the Imperial Navy. His mother must be some high ranking Sith lord because we don't have much on her."

"I knew this pup was bad news the moment I laid eyes on him." Commander Braskel walked in, patting the dust from his uniform. "This is Republic business, Jedi. You should turn him over to me."

"No. The boy is Force sensitive."

"He's worth too much. We could ransom him, maybe even strike a blow in this war if his parents are as high up as you say."

"We only know the mother is a Pureblood Darth," the Wroonian cut in.

Braskel arched an eyebrow. "See? He's a valuable Republic asset."

"Absolutely not." Gatten stared down the commander, knowing that in spite of the man's bravado, Gatten himself still had the upper hand. "You turn him back over to the Empire and he grows up as a Sith. How many hundreds of Republic citizens, soldiers, even Jedi might he slay in his lifetime? This is far bigger than some ransom."

"You want to make him a Jedi?"

Gatten glanced over at the boy and said nothing. Braskel snorted.

"Good luck with that. You think you can hide him from his parents?"

"He'll be safe with the Order."

"So you say," Braskel muttered. "So you say." He thrust his hands onto his hips. "Fine, keep him then. He's your problem." He turned and marched out the door.

Gatten turned to the Wroonian. "How long until the boy's well enough to travel?"

"Soon, hopefully. There's isn't much else we can do for him here with the limited supplies we have. I put a Kolto pack on his burn, but he'll have permanent facial scarring, most likely."

Gatten nodded. "Send word to me when he wakes up."

"Sure, Master Jedi."

00o00

Gatten returned to the Republic outpost a few days later to find Mordivai sitting up in bed. He was sullen and pale and wouldn't look Gatten in the eye. Gatten wasn't sure if he was wary of all strangers or mistrustful of Gatten in particular because he was both a Cathar and a Jedi.

"I'm Master Gatten Riel." He tried to make his voice sound friendly, yet neutral. "You survived quite an ordeal. Not all the passengers on that ship were as lucky as you."

The boy scowled and said nothing.

"I want you to know that your ship was not attacked. That engine malfunction would have happened sooner or later, even if you had been in Imperial space."

"Why should I believe you?" Mordivai looked at him with eyes that were a stark and frigid blue.

"I have no reason to lie to you. If the Republic had attacked that ship it would be all over the holonet by now."

Mordivai looked away and frowned.

"You were the only Force sensitive found aboard your pod. As such, you are of interest to me."

"I'm a Sith!" Mordivai's voice was hoarse from disuse and his fingers clenched at the blanket covering his knees.

"No," Gatten said quietly. "You are no Sith. Not yet anyway."

"My mother will slice you to ribbons! My father will track you down! You can't keep me here!"

"You are a prisoner of war," Gatten said calmly. "I can release you to the authorities right now and you will languish behind an energy wall for the rest of your life." It was a white lie that had to be told. The Republic would never jail a child, Imperial or no. But Gatten doubted that the Empire would have made such a concession, and that's the only reality this child knew.

"Or..." Gatten spoke slowly, as if the idea was only now coming to him. "You could learn the ways of the Force. You could come with me and I could teach you."

"Jedi are weak! I could never become a Jedi!"

"I didn't say you would become a Jedi. Only a select few have what it takes to do that."

Mordivai looked up at that and narrowed his eyes, but Gatten could see that he had caught the boy's attention. "Then why teach me anything?"

"The Force lives within you. I am obligated to reach out to those who are gifted in the Force." Another lie. Or partial one, anyway. Mordivai was far too strong in the Force to leave him untrained. Could he be a Jedi? Only time would tell that. But Gatten Riel had a habit of taking on the more challenging cases and this would by far be his biggest one yet.

"What do you say?"

"I want to go home." He sounded young and afraid.

"Our factions are at war. Things are never simple during wartime."

"Where will you take me?"

"Mycroft, or maybe even Tython, but you will not be staying at one of the academies. You are too old to begin training there." And too risky, Gatten thought. "The Jedi Service Corps will take you in for now and I will do what I can to see that you are educated in the Force."

Mordivai's shoulders fell and he looked much smaller than his years. "Doesn't sound like I have a choice."

"You will be treated far better there than you ever would be in prison."

Gatten waited until it was clear that Mordivai had no more questions and then left. Now he had one very important holocall to make. Informing the Order of what he had decided to do was not something he was looking forward to.

00o00

Gatten directed the transport vehicle into a swoop and made for the landing pad of Tython's Service Corp campus. He stole Mordivai a look. The boy sat next to him, his nose pressed against the glass as he watched the trees grow closer as they descended. The bandage had come off his face, revealing the true extent of the burn. The skin was still ugly and raw, mottled with ripples from the extreme heat, and colored a tender pink. It was an appearance-altering scar that would mark the boy for life.

He parked the transport and took Mordivai to be officially registered as a member of the Education Corps. Gatten taught classes here and had in fact chosen this post. Here he was surrounded by the things he loved most: knowledge and students eager to learn. He spent his days studying the esoteric nature of the Force, translating holocrons within the library and teaching two classes a week. Mentoring students was something he deeply enjoyed. He had tutored a Sith Pureblood once, who had come to him seeking redemption in the light, and it had been one of the more satisfying accomplishments of his career. But never had he taken on a student like Mordivai, a reluctant learner and one who still had strong ties to his previous life.

He shuddered to think of how much damage had already been done to this impressionable child. To survive in the Sith Empire, and to someday graduate from the academy at Korriban alive, required ruthlessness and contempt for mercy. That they would break in children to this indoctrination so young both fascinated and horrified Gatten. He could not take on the Empire single handedly, but he could take in this boy and save him from a life of terror and hate.

He approached the desk and paused to smile at Mordivai. "Go ahead and look around a bit if you like. I'll be just a moment."

Mordivai didn't hesitate. He began to wander around wide-eyed, examining the statues and running his hands over the smooth ancient stones.

"Welcome Master Gatten. I heard of your arrival. How is our newest student fairing?" The Bith behind the desk fixed Gatten with a patient, lidless stare.

"As well as can be expected."

"What is his name?"

"Mordivai Quinn."

"Yes, but how will you register him?"

"Use my name," Gatten said. "Riel."

The Bith paused at the keyboard. "Surely you plan to change his first name? It's so...well, it's very Sith sounding."

"The boy has lost everything," Gatten said. "I will not take away his first name too. It stays as is."

"Very well then."

Gatten gave Mordivai a few days to settle in, giving him free access to the library whenever he wished. Mordivai chose to spend most of the time in his sparsely furnished room, but eventually he ventured out, where Gatten found him poring over a datapad filled with adventure stories. At night Gatten walked by his room, frequently hearing quiet sobs coming from under the door. His heart ached at this, but he doubted that Mordivai would accept any comfort from him, so he left him to sort through his grief alone. During the day though, he strove to keep Mordivai busy.

After a few weeks of basic academic lessons, Gatten chose to introduce combat practice to their daily routine. The training room here was much smaller and less well equipped than the one at the Jedi Academy, but it had the basics that Gatten would need. He had no idea what Mordivai might already have been taught. So he gestured to the rack against the wall, letting him choose his own weapon from the practice blades there.

He was surprised when Mordivai spent a long time sorting through the weapons. There really weren't that many options, after all. Some blades were weighted differently or sized for a bigger or smaller wielder. But Mordivai appeared determined to find something specific. Gatten was about to suggest that he simply take the one propped right in front of him when Mordivai suddenly grinned and pulled out a long staff, longer than he was tall.

"Mordivai. That's not a good starter weapon. Can I help you choose something else?"

"I've used the staff before. Jaesa was teaching me."

"Who is Jaesa?"

Mordivai's shoulders slumped. "A Sith. My mother's apprentice."

"Here in the Republic, very few Jedi use the double-bladed saber."

"Why can't I be like them?"

Gatten was silent a moment, considering how to word his reply. "Jedi who master that weapon are often members of a select class. Their dedication to the light is impeccable and they are trusted with some of the Order's most confidential and dangerous missions." There is no way that Mordivai could ever hope to qualify for such a placement. In the Empire, such Sith were known as assassins. Gatten did not yet know what kind of Jedi Mordivai could be, or if he could even ever stay true to the Jedi Code at all. He would be pleased to see him take on a more peaceful calling such as healing. He reminded himself that such decisions were not his to make.

"At any rate," he continued. "I cannot teach you that weapon. You must choose a single blade for now."

Mordivai sulked and trudged back over the to the rack. He pulled out a small, light-weight training blade.

"Good, let's begin."

Mordivai's skills were rusty at first, but within the hour Gatten saw immediate improvements as Mordivai fell into a more comfortable rhythm. It was obvious that someone had taught him the basics of melee combat. It was also apparent, however, that he had been taught a few Force maneuvers that were not sanctioned by the Jedi. There would be a lot of theory lessons for this pupil, Gatten realized. He ended the session by demonstrating to Mordivai how two friendly opponents bowed to conclude an honorable duel. It was progress.

A/N: I started this story about three years ago (!) and have been working on it off and on ever since. It sort of became an AU as Shadow of Revan and the new Fallen Empire stuff were released, since much of what I had written was no longer compatible with the new story. So just imagine the game universe as it was during the base game and Rise of Hutt Cartel, but approx. 20 years later. For the recognizable class story elements, just port those in their entirely ahead 20 years as well.