It took Wil a full five seconds to process what he had just heard. For Horatio, it seemed to be even longer, as he hadn't yet moved or eased his grip on the man. The elder Sheridan's hard gaze was locked with his scared, gray eyes under his messy white hair, stretching the tense silence even longer in the alley. Even more sure the man was no threat, Wil reached up and tugged on his father's arm to release him.

"Dad..."

But Horatio pressed even harder instead, becoming angrier. "You're a liar. And not even a good one."

Wil pulled Horatio's arm again more insistently, but Horatio swung his elbow to shove Wil away from him as the man continued to plead.

"N-no-n no, lie, n-no lie! We-w-we we were f-frien-fr-friends friends, our sh-s-shop shops were neigh-n-neighbor. Neighbors. He-he, he f-f-fix fixed droids. I ma- I-I I made p-pas...tries. Pastries. We trade, tr-traded traded every day."

Beyond frustrated with his father's complete lack of empathy, Wil grabbed Horatio's shoulder with intense focus and force, physically pulling him backwards. "Dad, let him go! He's telling the truth."

Though Horatio surprisingly followed Wil's command and dropped his hold on the man as he stepped back, his anger hadn't waned in the slightest, channeling it toward his son instead. "There is no possible way you can know that. I never knew my father. I didn't even know his name. Some nobody showing up out of nowhere claiming to have known him doesn't mean anything to me."

"Kaz...Kas-Kasimir."

All traces of rage had immediately morphed into pure shock on Horatio's face as he turned to stare at the man once more.

"...what did you say?"

Cowering against the wall though Horatio had released him, the man anxiously wrung his hands as they shook, swallowing a large lump in his throat. "Kas-K-Kasimir. Kasimir. His n-name. Kasimir Sheridan. I...I-I I called him Ka-Kaz. Kaz. My friend."

Wil stared dumbstruck, too, struggling to process the revelation. His father had told him very little of his childhood, recalling only brief periods of junk collecting and scavenging alone in the Underlevels of Coruscant as a small boy. Of the many aliases and cover identities he had assumed over his sixty-six years, though, Horatio's favorite alter ego he had curated a very particular reputation for had been as a mercenary known as Kasimir Vasch. So had he actually known his father's identity and had refused the association, rewriting his own history, or had he only thought of the name subconsciously without knowing the reason why?

"You...y-you-you look, look just-just like h-him," the man continued after a moment, a wistful expression in his eyes as he in turn studied Horatio's face. "Like Kaz. It's why I...I-I I recog-rec-recognize, recognized you. And I f-fol-followed y-you. I haven't s-see-s...seen, seen you or your sister since you w-were were three."

A fierce, fiery rage returned to Horatio's harsh glare within moments. "Now I know that you're lying, that is impossible. Tzymo gave you all this information about me, didn't he? He sent you after me and told you how to find me. You're hardly any older than my son, there's absolutely no way you could have known me personally more than sixty years ago!"

Before the man could mount a defense, though, Wil felt the revelation click into place in his mind: the white hair, the light eyes, the advanced age yet young appearance... He blurted it aloud without much thought.

"You're Arkanian."

The man's expression brightened, faintly smiling at Wil as he nodded and waved one shaking, four-digit hand, another hallmark of the near-human species. "Half. I...I'm-I I'm half Arkanian. I ju-just just turned one...one hun-hundred and twelve."

Wil smiled broadly, his apprehension about the stranger all but gone. He could tell, though, that they still hadn't convinced Horatio of anything; he remained angry and guarded, his stern expression refusing to accept anything the man had to say.

"Please," the Arkanian begged carefully, imploring Horatio's favor, "...th-ther-there there's so, so m-much I-I I want to te-tell tell you. Ab-about him-him. About them. You...your mo-mother, too. Sh-she was -"

Horatio waved his hand, interrupting him without mercy as he emphasized every word. "I do not care."

"I do," Wil said as he stepped closer, eager to drown out his father's negativity. "I'll listen. I'd love to hear everything you can tell me about my grandparents."

Horatio shook his head. "Wil -"

But Wil ignored him, stepping in front of his father and extending his hand. "I'm Wil, what's your name?"

Though still quite wary of Horatio, the Arkanian answered him with another small smile as he carefully and briefly shook his hand. "I...I'm-I'm Baxer. You...you look-look like Kaz, too. S-so much, so much."

Before Wil could respond, though, Horatio abruptly turned and began to walk out of the alley, not even looking back toward either of them. "No, we are not entertaining this. We're leaving. Let's go, Wil."

But Wil refused, fed up with his father's antics but outwardly maintaining his composure as he remained with Baxer. He managed to keep his tone even and calm, too. "No. I want to hear what he has to say. And you should, too."

At Wil's defiance, Horatio froze in place halfway down the alley, visibly taking in a long, drawn out breath before he continued on without a word. Wil could only watch as the elder Sheridan disappeared into the main street, out of sight and out of earshot without any further hesitation. It left Wil in a difficult position, but he made a quick decision, returning to Baxer with a penitent expression.

"I'm sorry for my father's outbursts, Baxer. He's been through a lot, and he doesn't...handle things well sometimes. Here," he paused, pulling a handful of credits out of his pocket he then gave to Baxer, "go back into the diner and get yourself a nice meal or a drink. I'm going to try to talk some sense into him and bring him back, so just give me some time, okay?"

Though Baxer appeared apprehensive and reluctant to take the credits from him, he agreed with a weak nod and stuffed his hand into his own jacket pocket. "Th-thank you-y-you, Wil. I will w-wai-wait wait for you. I have...so-so so much to t-te-tell you."

Wil gave him a reassuring smile as he turned to follow after Horatio. "And I can't wait to hear it."

"No! I said, no! I am not discussing this anymore!"

As Wil climbed back aboard the Shadow Nova tight on his father's heels, having had no effect on him after an hour of begging and reasoning, his patience was wearing thin. Believing the others to still be out on the hunt for a new ship, Wil didn't hold back.

"You are being absolutely ridiculous about this, Dad! Why are you so afraid to learn the truth?"

"What is going on?"

Liaa's concerned interruption halted both Wil and Horatio as she stepped into the cargo hold, Ethan and Cordira Redgrave just behind her looking equally as worried. Wil merely stood in place exasperated, struggling to answer her, but Horatio was the first to respond, though he only met Wil's gaze.

"I have made my decision, and it is final! I will not be questioned any further!"

Without allowing anyone the chance to even breathe, Horatio retreated even deeper into the ship, wordlessly closing himself in his cabin down the hall. Liaa heaved a bewildered sigh at Wil as she took to the cabin, too, electing to try to calm her husband from his wild state after a brief moment. Ethan and Cordira were quick to step to Wil's side, though, troubled by father and son's fiery exchange.

"Wil, are you alright?"

Willing his heart rate to calm, he nodded, appreciating Cordira's gentle words. "Yeah, I'm fine. I've just finally found something he won't listen to me about. At all."

Cordira lightly gripped his arm in a sympathetic gesture, extending a soothing feeling to him through the Force she'd shared with him before.

"What happened? Did you get Bex to the repair tech?"

"Yes, Bex is being repaired now," he answered Ethan, "he'll be fine. But we met a man who claims to have been friends with my grandparents, my dad's parents. His parents he thought he couldn't remember. And I believe the guy. I don't understand why my dad won't."

Exchanging uneasy glances with each other, Ethan nodded faintly to Cordira, stepping back as she began to carefully lead Wil towards a small bench near the rear of the cargo hold.

"Here, let's sit and talk."