The solitary walk to his father's office had never seemed so long before, and Wil could feel his jaw clenching more and more tightly with every step. The portion of the Retreat that had been given to the Sheridans to occupy years ago was completely devoid of the royal attendants and guards Wil had grown up surrounded by, though there were plenty of security measures well hidden about the halls to keep the Sheridans and the Rys'tihns safe. None of his covert agents were around to witness his anxiety, thankfully; he hadn't felt so on edge in years, desperately ignoring a new, strange warning that had begun sounding in the back of his mind...

He took a few slow breaths to calm his nerves as he stood before the door, even briefly calling on his recent training with his friend Cordira Natiyr to slow his frantic pulse with the Force. Her soothing voice in his mind tamed his racing thoughts, as well, leaving him better prepared to deal with whatever had put his father into such a reclusive state. The door opened at his command, and he stepped inside Horatio's office with care.

"Dad? Are you..."

The scene he walked into immediately stole his voice. On every flat surface sat more than three dozen small holoprojectors of varying designs, each casting a diffuse blue glow and displaying unique news headlines and articles in every square meter of space in the room. Each holo was from a different system, a different sector, relaying a wide variety of events that had no commonality or pattern of any kind that he could see. Wil struggled to focus on one long enough to read its headline completely, his curiosity rapidly tracking from one holo to the next in an attempt to make sense of the onslaught of information.

...SEVENTEEN FOUND DEAD IN ABANDONED FACTORY IN FALLEEN THRONE...

...ANOAT SECTOR FREIGHTER COLLISION DESTROYS REFUELING STATION...

...LOCAL CRIME GROUP TO BLAME FOR CROP DESTRUCTION ON SALEUCAMI...

In the center of the room, Horatio stood with his back to Wil, hunched over a display console and seemingly unaware of Wil's presence. Whatever was on the screen in front of him had his father's full attention, and Wil disrupted his concentration so reluctantly.

"Dad? What's going on? What...is all this?"

Horatio remained completely still and fixed on the console, appearing to not have even registered Wil's questions. Wil took in a few more articles as he slowly stepped closer, his head already spinning with wild theories about what it could all mean.

"When was the last time you heard from Max?"

His father's jarring question about his cousin halted him mid step, and he struggled to answer in his daze. "I...I don't know. A few weeks ago, maybe?"

Moving for the first time, Horatio only slightly turned his head, the urgency in his expression still hidden from Wil's view but easily heard in his voice. "I need to know exactly when!"

Wil swallowed dryly as he shook his head. "I'd...have to check the Shadow Nova's logs, I don't know off hand." Regaining his composure, Wil finally stood beside his father, looking him over with concern. "Dad...what is wrong? Why are you asking about Max?"

Horatio met Wil's gaze only briefly, his breath trembling as it left him. He was clearly hesitant to discuss his fear, as if speaking it aloud would make it more real. But as Wil placed his hand on Horatio's shoulder to support him, the elder Sheridan eventually found his voice to explain.

"...because I haven't heard from him for almost three weeks."

Before Wil could ask further questions, Horatio leaned back from the console and put his hands on his hips, still studying the display in front of him. "After what happened over Rishi five years ago," he continued, his strength all but gone, "I asked Max to keep in contact with me after he left. He refused to let me help him dismantle the rest of his father's network, so I told him that he had to reach out at least every other day. A message. Holo. Signal flare. Something. And he did, without fail, all these years...until three weeks ago."

Returning his attention to the holos all around them, Wil was beginning to piece things together. "So...you think something happened to him? One of these news stories might be about him?"

"Maybe," Horatio shrugged half-heartedly, "or he was the cause of one of them. Even when he thought he might be delayed in sending something to me in any way, he would tell me well ahead of time. But I got no warning before this sudden...silence. Something changed. Something happened. I need to find him."

Appreciating his father's concern, Wil nodded in agreement. His cousin Maxoran Redgrave had been a mystery to the Sheridans for most of his life, the older son of Horatio's late sister Recero. Max's father Soran had been a ruthless spice mogul and information broker, curating a vast network of spies and spice dealers across the galaxy that kept him apprised of all manner of business, both legitimate and not. Having grown up in the trade, Max had learned a number of useful skills that allowed him to both evade his father's reach and infiltrate its inner workings at the same time. Just before Wil had met Max, Soran's organization was beginning to crumble under Max's deliberate sabotage, which caught the attention of the Bounty Hunter Guild's leader, Max's younger brother Aalon, and Azira, an old enemy of Horatio's.

The fallout of the confrontation between the three Sheridans and Azira had been devastating - Horatio's daughter Jewel had been kidnapped but safely recovered, Azira had killed Aalon for daring to challenge her, and a longtime friend and powerful Jedi Master had sustained a grievous wound that should have killed her, too. If it hadn't been for Max's trusty droid Bex bringing Wil to the Rishi station to help rescue the Sheridans and their friend, none of them would have survived Azira's retaliation. Once recovered, Max had quickly returned to his work destroying his father's empire, leaving them with little more knowledge about him than they'd had before. Horatio's drive to protect his family, his sister's only surviving son, hadn't waned in the slightest, even as the years had worn on with no further meaningful contact. Wil knew there was no distracting his father from his task.

"I'll help you," Wil pledged with sincerity, gripping Horatio's shoulder once more. "We'll find him, Dad. If I have to pull all of my covert agents to scour the galaxy, I will, no question. But you have to tell me when you need help. Don't hold onto something like this for so long by yourself."

Reluctant to meet Wil's gaze again, Horatio stared hard at the floor. "I...thought he'd reach out some other way. I was trying to find patterns, or at least some kind of trail of his work to follow, but I found...nothing." He paused, his shoulders visibly sagging. "...I don't even think he's still alive."

"Don't say that. You know how incredibly resourceful and skilled Max is. If anyone can survive being hunted for years on end...he can. He's probably in hiding after getting too much attention, laying low until things cool off. He's smart, and he's patient. So we should be, too."

Horatio remained stoic, worry overwriting his entire expression though he said nothing in return. Sympathetic to his struggle, Wil offered him a brief respite. "Liaa said you've been in here all day. Why don't you come to dinner with me and my girls, then you and I can start going over the information we have together after? I have fresh eyes, and you'll be able to focus better with a full stomach."

Though it was clearly hesitant, Horatio finally nodded, accepting Wil's invitation as he relaxed his posture and left his office with him. It was a small step, but perhaps Wil's busy twin girls could keep their grandfather occupied with their incessant laughter and goofy antics instead.