Chapter II:

A couple years later…

The air hung heavy with the scent of dust and spice, the cool metal of his vambrace his only respite.

The twin suns of Tatooine beat down on Percy, their harsh glare reflecting off his armor as he navigated the alleys of Mos Eisley. Sweat trickled down his temple, a familiar discomfort in this desolate world. Not one for blasters, his beskar blade hummed at his hip, a promise of swift justice.

A sword was more silent. More brutal. You never have to reload a sword.

The marketplace bustled with a cacophony of languages and the haggling of merchants. He strode with purpose, his steps deliberate, ignoring the curious glances and whispers that followed him.

Weaving through the throng, his keen eyes scanned for his target – a Rodian smuggler with a penchant for gambling debts. The mark was holed up in Chalmun's Cantina, a wretched hive of scum and villainy where whispers of illicit activities often mingled with the acrid scent of spilled ale.

Percy entered the dim cantina, his helmet projecting an ominous shadow. Instantly, he was greeted with the familiar hum of a sensation he'd grown accustomed to, yet still couldn't fully comprehend. Similar to his feel for the water, except casting over everything like ambient noise.

The patrons before him parted like waves before a prow, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and respect. He ignored their stares, focusing on the Rodian lounging in a dingy corner, surrounded by a trio of Nikto thugs.

The Rodian spotted Percy, his beady eyes widening in realization. He barked a command in Huttese, and the Nikto thugs lunged forward, blasters drawn. Percy's blade flashed in the muted light. The first thug crumpled with a strangled cry, his blaster clattering to the floor. The second fell victim to a swift slash across the throat, blood spattering the grimy walls.

The third Nikto hesitated, no doubt realizing he was outmatched. He fired a desperate shot, but Percy deflected the blaster bolt, the beskar humming with the impact. Before the Nikto could react, Percy closed the distance, sinking into the thug's chest with a sickening crunch.

The Rodian scrambled for cover, his fear-glazed eyes darting around the room. Percy advanced, cornering the Rodian behind a pile of crates. The smuggler's blaster trembled in his scaled hand.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be," Percy warned, his voice echoing through his helmet.

The Rodian muttered a desperate plea for mercy, offering a sum of credits. Percy tilted his head, considering the offer.

"Double it," he countered, "and throw in your ship."

Percy's usual ride was unfortunately out of commission. Thank you, Jawas.

"But—but."

"You want to live, or die?" Percy took another step forward. "I'll forward the credits to my employer. Consider yourself debt free… for now."

The Rodian sputtered, but Percy's unwillingness to back down left him no choice. With a bow he caved in, the unintelligible mumblings from his mouth resembling that of grace. Percy snatched the pitiful sum from his victim's shaking hands and turned to leave, his cape swirling behind him like a dark tide.

As the suns began to hang low over the horizon, he boarded the Rodian's battered light freighter, and settled into the pilot's seat. With the ignition of the engines came the familiar roar, a comforting rumble in the somber silence of space.

Once upon a time, he was Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, hero of Olympus. A champion who'd faced gods and titans, who'd led armies and saved the world countless times. But that world was gone now, lost in the mists of time and a sacrifice he'd made for the woman he once loved.

Percy embraced the Way, the strict code of honor and discipline that defined all that chose to swear by it. It had given him purpose, a new path to walk. But even as he donned the armor and concealed his face behind the helmet, he couldn't escape a few lingering aches.

Arriving at his hidden covert on a forest world, he was greeted by his savior-turned-mentor. Bo-Katan emerged from the shadows as he exited the ship, her armor gleaming from polish. Her gaze was sharp, assessing him as he removed his helmet.

"Took you a while," she remarked, her voice a mix of concern and a hint of amusement.

"Things got kinda messy," Percy replied, running a hand through his dark hair, pushing back a stray lock.

Bo-Katan's fist landed playfully on his chest plate. "You used your powers?"

Percy laughed at the thought. "You know I'm not stupid enough to do that."

Since his arrival, she had made it abundantly clear to Percy to never tap into his godly heritage. In a galaxy ruled by power hungry Sith Lords, it was foolish to draw attention to yourself. Still, Percy hoped that he might one day be able to freely wield his power as forcefully as he once had. Imagine the good he could do with it. But what were two Mandalorian outcasts supposed to do against an inter-galactic military?

"Well, complications are profitable," Bo-Katan retorted, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Anything to this one?"

"Stupid Jawas. I swear they don't have brains." Percy could probably name fifty other species that were more brainless, but when your only purpose in life is to break people's ships, that puts you on the bottom rung of the ladder in his books. "Niktos too."

"I guess that would explain your new ride." Bo-Katan gave the Rodian's ship a once-over. "Yikes."

Percy gave her starfighter a jealous look.

She gestured for him to sit by their fire, the flames casting long shadows through the tree line surrounding them. For a moment, the only sounds came from the crackling of twigs and the distant howl of a forest creature. Percy stared, lost in thought.

"So," Bo-Katan began, leaning back against a crate, "what's the word on the streets? Any rumblings?"

Percy shrugged. "Not that I've heard. Fear and oppression seem to be the common currency these days."

"Not surprising," she mused, pulling up a hologram from her belt. It flickered to life, displaying a map of the Outer Rim territories, dotted with red markers indicating Imperial strongholds.

"The Empire seems to be tightening their grip," Bo-Katan continued, her voice grim. "They've established a blockade around Ryloth, and there are rumors of increased patrols in the Kessel sector."

Percy's eyes narrowed. "Ryloth?"

Bo-Katan nodded. "I fear they're trying to crush their rebellion before it gains momentum."

Percy scowled as he leaned back. Blame it on his past, he'd always been drawn to those who fought for freedom, for a better world.

"Don't get too comfortable now, though." Bo-Katan said, kicking dirt onto the fire. "You've made quite the name for yourself. Your services have been requested, urgently it seems."

"Oh?" Percy sat up. "What for?"

She threw him a data puck. "Info's in this. Something tells me that your new hunk of metal might actually come in handy."

"Why's that?"

"Because your services have been requested by a senator from Coruscant."

Author's Note:

Hi all! Sorry for the long late, been really busy... Excited to continue writing this story, though! Please let me know all your thoughts. You can find me in the discord in my bio!