Cal's lips twist in a weak, if crooked smile. "Not you," he says, before nodding at the little one held in the Mandalorian's arms. "Him. ...but I don't think I'd expect anything less of a Mandalorian, from what little I know. I could envy you for having such a clear path."

He's finally found one again himself, if not completely by his choosing. The Force works in strange ways though. He's ashamed of having hidden away, but he didn't know what else to do but cling to his master's dying words. No help had ever come, no word from the Council.