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Plo liked kids. He loved them, adored them. But many people around the galaxy didn’t love kids as much as he did. Some didn’t like their kids, even harmed them, marked them or…
It was too painful for him to think of. So whenever he found lost kids, he adopted them. Gave them a new family and a better life. He would have kept better track of who he adopted, but then again, he had the habit of forgetting, per say, who he adopted. There was just too much! They were all just so adorable and in need of care, so he did what had to be done.
He would know which ones were his kids by a mark of each of their hands, a symbol he put there to show that they were always loved and always had a family.
He imagined that there must be at least two hundred thousand of his kids roaming the galaxy.
He already adopted his entire battalion and all the young initiates and padawans. And the younger members of the Council. He would have nabbed the young Korkie Kenobi Kryze, but Duchess Satine was always watching his every move…
He would have gotten Yoda if the damned troll hadn’t gotten him first.
All thoughts of his children flew out of his head as Mace had grabbed him and brought him along to arrest the...possibly-Sith Chancellor?
Could this day get any weirder?
But when the Chancellor brought out his lightsaber, a mark on his hand, had all the thoughts of children come racing back into his head.
“Son?”
“Father?”
Nevermind. It could.