Plo sighed and then extended a hand toward the ship, the ramp lowering with a groan of metal.

He strode up this swiftly and into the hold of the ship where he could see numerous cages holding a wide variety of species that moaned and whoofed and growled.

And one cage—-

One cage which contained a human boy, leaning despondently against the bars. They had chained his wrists and ankles to the heavy steel base of the cage and he moved awkwardly, the echo of metal on metal reaching Plo’s ears.

And the despair which permeated the Force so thickly around the child…

Plo’s teeth ached with it.

He approached carefully, drawing the Force about them like a comforting blanket and the boy’s head jerked up, sensing this.

His hazel eyes grew impossibly wide and dark fear leached from him. He moved as far back against the bars as his chains allowed.

“You…” he breathed and Plo paused, confused.

“You have…seen me?” he asked, tilting his head.

The child gazed at him with a mix of fright and hopeless misery. “I…I dreamed you,” he answered, mouth working as he tried to control his terror. “I…you have no eyes…”

Well that could be easily dispelled.

“I assure you I have eyes,” Plo told him, waving a hand at the lights above them to strengthen the illumination. “These are goggles to protect them. You can see I am not human. This air is toxic for me.”

The boy gazed at him warily.

Interesting that he had ‘dreamed’ Plo. That sounded more like a vision.

“I am here to help you, Firmus,” Plo continued gently. “Your friend—-the girl. She is free and on her way to safety. You do not need to be afraid. I felt you. In the Force.”

Firmus frowned at him.

“What do you mean?”

“What everyone refers to as ‘magic’. It is the Force. A power in and around us. But only a few can connect to it and use it as we can. Look.”

And with that he waved at the boy’s chains, making them drop off the thin wrists and ankles. Then he moved his hands apart and the cage separated, each piece silently floating away. Plo lowered the metal slowly to the deck of the bay and Firmus gaped at him.

“That…”

“May I come closer?” Plo asked. “So you may see I am no monster. And I wish to examine that collar.”

The child nodded, bracing himself, his chest heaving but his eyes not leaving Plo.

A great deal of courage in that little body.

“The masters…”

Plo snorted. “They are not your masters, Firmus. And they will not hurt you again.”

Firmus blinked a little. “Are…are they dead?”

“No, young one. Jedi do not kill indiscriminately, much as they may deserve it for what they have done to you.”

The boy tilted his head up to study Plo closely at this.

“You’re a Jedi?”

“I am. A Jedi Knight.” He moved his robes to show the boy the lightsaber hanging there. He was a Master now, but given how that word had been misused for this child, he would dispense with the title for the time being.

“A knight,” Firmus repeated, a tiny smile curling his lips. “I…wow.”

The collar was fused around his neck and Plo could see the burn scar where they had closed it. It was karking tempting to remove a hand each for the men who had done this. Again he suppressed his anger. But it was not the sort of collar with explosives embedded. He would not harm Firmus if he removed it.

Plo concentrated and the metal broke apart with a loud crack that had the boy jumping.

“Fear not, little one,” Plo said easily, lifting the two pieces and showing him. “It’s gone now. There was a raw, red ring of skin where the collar had been. Firmus raised trembling fingers to touch it cautiously.

Firmus had been trying to stop this power long before he’d been sold, Plo thought. Part of him hoped the father was still living. He wanted to make him weep with fear. But that would not help this little one in the moment. “You are not weak, Firmus,” Plo told him seriously. “Far from it. And I will say this as often as I need to—-you have nothing to prove. You do not have to earn your place with us. I have no intention of abandoning you somewhere.” That slim body stiffened in his arms. “But I…I might have that…explosion again. What if—-?” Plo wrapped both his arms around the boy, cuddling him close as he’d wanted to do from the moment he’d seen him in that Force damned cage. A contented noise issued from the child in response, and more tension bled away from him.  “You would not be the first Force user to blow something up—intentional or otherwise. Some do it for fun,” he added, thinking of Anakin Skywalker. “We all have to learn. And—I would like to do that for you. I would like to teach you about your power.” That thin face popped up eagerly, despite his weariness. “So I won’t hurt anyone! Yes please!” Plo sighed. So. Much. Damage. “Firmus, certainly a Jedi must use his power to protect most of all. To bring peace. Healing. But—while self control is indeed valuable, one must also be able to use the Force…violently if necessary. To defend.” There was a silence so long, Plo wondered if the boy had fallen asleep. Then—- “....I know.” It was whispered with shame and Plo realized that Firmus did know this very well and was afraid of it.  “Dear one,” he said, heart aching at the things this child had been forced to do. “I know you had to kill animals. But why did you do so?” Something warm and wet was soaking into his robes and Plo discovered that Firmus was weeping silently. “It’s all right,” he soothed. “Tears are natural. It is likely you will have them often for a while.” “Not…a baby,” Firmus hiccuped. “I just—” “I weep still. For many reasons.” This stopped the child’s desperate attempt to explain away his tears.

1. His power was feared on Axxila. As a result he was taught to repress any 'weirdness' as his father called it, from a young age. It made him prone to terrible headaches and he was often ill, though he realized many years later, that his illnesses were more due to a small body that was trying to contain so much power.
2. The day that his powers unleashed in public was forever etched into his memory. He had been chased by the local bullies and cornered, where they proceeded to their usual beating, when he just couldn't stop the fire building within him. They were injured and a great deal of damage was done to surrounding buildings. He was sold to pay the debts this incurred, and given that he had demonstrated powers, he went for a great price. There were two years of misery as the slavers tried to force him to do things he didn't know how to do with the Force, and perform for crowds, so he was beaten frequently. Until one day.
3. Plo Koon had heard rumors of the child with special powers while travelling through the Celanon Spur. Being the soft heart that he was, he decided to follow those rumors up. Jedi children from this sector were rare, not least because they usually died at a young age in this very unforgiving part of the galaxy. And thus it was that he found a ten year old Firmus Piett, caged and hopeless and promptly released him. He contacted the Axxilan fleet with exact information on the slavers' and their location and while he was a more peaceful soul, he took great pleasure in news of their annihilation as he helped to heal a much too small boy, both physically and spiritually.
4. So Firmus grew up in the Jedi Temple, though he left more than most to travel with his master, and thus he had a love of space ships from an early age. He was unique in that he accepted he was not the greatest warrior nor the most powerful Force user. He was remarkably good with the lightsaber and he was one of the best tactical minds in his padawan group. And that was good enough for him. Perhaps because of this, he was not given command of an active duty division in the Clone Wars. Instead, he was stationed on Coruscant in a sort of general way to look out for the Senators. Kenobi had a 'feeling' about this and while Firmus was a little disappointed not to be in the stars, he felt useful.
5. He found friends in Senators Organa and Amidala, and he enjoyed their conversations outside of the Senate. They recognized his keen tactical mind in turn, and these meetings were good to both solidify friendship and lay foundations for what many would refer to as the 'Rebellion'. Marshall Commander Fox, nearing a breaking point, and silently bearing far too much on his armored shoulders, found himself back to back with Jedi General Piett during a Senate attack. Firmus sensed the great strain the man was under and in the course of having their injuries tended in the Senate medbay, he learned a great deal. So when Fox declared that he had no Jedi to appeal to, Piett allowed his mouth to curl and his eyebrow to raise. "You do now," he said.