Chapter Text
“Obi-Wan would be a perfect representative.”
“He is not yet knighted.”
“He is ready. Or let this be his trials.”
Representative. What a weasel word. What Obi-Wan’s master meant was “sacrifice.” That was the point of the Republic sending anyone to the Mandalorian Empire and their unknown warlord. A sacrifice to placate them, maybe keep them from turning their eye to taking over a Republic with no fleet, no soldiers, and far too much corruption. What was one Jedi in the grand scheme to a republic senator?
Nothing.
And Master Jin knew exactly what he was putting Obi-Wan up for. After all, his name had been up as first pick. Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn had the honor of negotiating the last peace treaty in the Mandalorian Civil War. Right before the borders to Mandalorian space had closed and the empire building had started. Still, he knew more about Mandalorian culture from first hand experience than anyone else in the current order.
But he didn’t want to be sacrificed to the corrupt Senate or risk being murdered by angry Mandalorians. So he’d stomped right into the Jedi High Council Chamber, in front of a dozen senators and his good friend Chancellor Velorum, and proposed a better candidate.
Obi-Wan Kenobi, the padawan learner who’d spent that year of negotiating on the ground of Manda’yaim, running for his life and keeping the future leader of the New Mandalorian faction—the one the Senate had wanted in charge—alive. Master Jinn understood some culture, some language. Obi-Wan was fluent in three dialects of Mando’a and could be functional in full beskar’gam.
However, that was definitely not why he was chosen for this ‘honor.’ No, apparently while he’d thought he’d finally proved his worth and was so handy to have around that Master Jinn hadn’t wanted to give him up to knighthood—explaining why Obi-Wan was three years past the usual age and still hadn’t been offered for the trials—Master Jinn had really been looking for the opportunity to get rid of Obi-Wan all together. Maybe Obi-Wan should reassess all those trips to war torn planets.
No other master had offered up their padawan, knighted or not, to the Senate’s request. No other master had taken a young padawan to so many war torn planets, or abandoned—sorry, misplaced said padawan during so many missions. No other master had fought tooth and nail against taking a padawan. No other master had repudiated one padawan and lost another to the dark.
Yeah, that thought process wasn’t getting Obi-Wan anywhere.
As best he could tell, the Jedi High Council had been trying to figure out how to tell the Republic Senate to kriff off when Qui-Gon strode in with Obi-Wan at his heels and just… threw him away. With the Chancellor right there along with a selection of senators and aides.
Obi-Wan, the perfect candidate. All of that on the ground experience laid out in detail. And suddenly some of the Council now claimed, with the Chancellor of the Senate of the Republic in their face, that had he been older, that experience should have been his trials.
They’d certainly never said a word then.
Chancellor Velorum had apologized to Obi-Wan as he left. A friend of Master Jinn’s, they had met more than a few times over Obi-Wan’s padawanship.
“We need someone to bring a positive message to this new warlord. The Jedi are our best negotiators, and you were trained by the best.”
But they weren’t sending Master Jinn. They weren’t sending a trained, experienced negotiator. No, they were sending his student.
And he wasn’t being sent to negotiate. He was being sent to placate. To bribe. To sacrifice for centuries of abuse to Mandalore, its planets and its people. Obi-Wan had hacked the system and seen the letter being sent with him. He was a slave in all but name, being sent for whatever purpose the new warlord of the expanding Mandalorian Empire wanted. The promises of no repercussions were very… explicit.
At least Obi-Wan had successfully argued for keeping his lightsaber.
“No Mandalorian would respect me arriving unarmed. It is anathema to them.”
“We are making an offering of peace, not war.”
If Obi-Wan didn’t know better, he would think the senator for the Chommell sector wanted him dead. Senator Palpatine had been all too eager to get an unarmed, unarmored Jedi into Mandalorian hands. If Master Jinn hadn’t backed Obi-Wan up…
Honestly if the Republic wanted to make peace, they’d be better off offering to help repair Mandalore. The Jedi Agricorps would be of more use than Obi-Wan. But no one was going to listen to that recommendation. Obi-Wan’s first hand knowledge was useful for sacrifice, not for actual advice.
And once again he wondered if he would have been better or worse off if he’d stuck with the Agricorps instead of accepting a padawanship when Master Jinn offered.
Well, too late now. He was a knight, however unearned. They’d cut his braid there in the Council chamber, declared his trials his previous efforts, and told him to pack. He’d barely had a chance to say goodbye to his friends, to wish good luck to the sweet boy Quin had brought back from Tatooine the previous month, before being hustled onto a ship packed with a so-called honor guard.
Prison guards, more like.
At least he’d had time to fix that cursed padawan cut on the journey.
And now he was at his destination, or as close as the verde would let a Republic ship get. Which was a station, surrounded by battleships, on the edge of the old Mandalorian Empire.
“All right, we let you dock. Now why are you here?”
There were five fully armored warriors, ranging from light fighters to one heavy plate tank of a man, standing in the dock, blocking the way of Obi-Wan’s guards. Who were staring in confusion.
“The Republic has sent this Jedi Knight to your Mand’alor.”
Obi-Wan hid a wince. The guard’s pronunciation was horrible. Nothing like insulting a warlord before you even meet them. Whoever they were. Because for some reason, news out of the new empire was utterly impossible to get. News that a new planet had joined the Empire came because it stopped communicating with the Republic. So no one really knew who the new Mand’alor was.
It made Obi-Wan wonder whether Republic spies were that bad or Mandalorian defenses were that good.
Well, at least none of the guards were in blue and gray paint, so maybe Deathwatch hadn’t won. Except none of the other sides had been so into empire building. So Obi-Wan wasn’t getting his hopes up.
There was a lot of silence and odd shifting. It made Obi-Wan’s guards very edgy, but he suspected it was because the Mandalorians were talking over internal comms. Maybe even getting orders from someone else.
“Right, we’ll take them from here.”
The guards split, leaving Obi-Wan a path forward to the Mandalorians. He had his simple travel pack, his lightsaber, and his overblown robes because some senator had been convinced that a prize sent to a warlord should be decked out in silks.
They’d tried to make it something more suited to a harem slave than a jedi, but the Council had rebelled. Thank the Force.
Obi-Wan had found the harem slave outfit in his room shipboard. He’d left it on the bunk, in very small pieces. He took some small pleasure in that as he walked to his doom.
He was quickly shuffled out of the dock by the verd who’d spoken, while the others loomed and prevented the guards from going anywhere.
“That all your stuff?”
“Yes.” Obi-Wan took a closer look at his new guide. Light plate, blue and red, a bit shorter than he was. Reliability and honoring parents. Interesting.
“Jedi usually travel that light?”
“We often travel with less.” He’d often lost everything he’d brought with him before the second week of a mission. Qui-Gon believed strongly in the idea that the Force would provide and never packed heavy. In truth, other than his plants, the man barely owned anything, and Obi-Wan wasn’t much better off after so long as his padawan.
He wished he could have brought his armor, but that he would not have gotten past the Senate’s watchdogs. All he had was his kute’ika and a verd knife in his boot, both of which he’d had in the Council meeting. At least they potentially gave him a last ditch option.
“Huh. Well, not really sure what to do with you, but someone on Manda’yaim will probably know.”
Obi-Wan was led into what proved to be a secure comms room where he stood around for over an hour while his guard/guide tried to find someone to tell them what to do. At least, since he was left to watch, it gave Obi-Wan a chance to brush up on his Mando’a comprehension.
Finally, a face Obi-Wan faintly recognized appeared in the holo field.
“Mand’alor!”
Obi-Wan had met Jaster Mereel, proclaimed Mand’alor by one faction of the Mando’ade, a few times at the beginning and end of his mission on Manda’yaim. He looked to have aged well in the decade since. Though, in deepest truth, Obi-Wan was just relieved to find Tor Vizsla wasn’t sole ruler of the empire.
And Obi-Wan’s new master.
“ I am sorry to bother you, alor, but the Republic has sent you a Jetii .”
“ Why did they do that? ” Mand’alor Mereel asked, his puzzlement clear in tone and expression.
The verd looked at Obi-Wan and gestured until he took the center of the camera.
Obi-Wan bowed. “Mand’alor Mereel, I am Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi—”
“Kenobi… Are you the one that kept Satine Kryze alive?” The Mand’alor went from puzzled to intrigued.
The warmth of a flush filled Obi-Wan’s cheeks. “I am honored that you remember me, alor.”
“Remember you? Even the Vizslas were impressed with your mandokar. What are you doing back here? I thought that agreement Jinn pushed through kept you out of our territory.”
“I have a letter from the Senate explaining all.” Obi-Wan would be cursed before he stated the Senate’s expectations aloud.
Mand’alor Mereel frowned. “ Oh no. This has something to do with my ad. ” He shook his head firmly. “ No. I told them if they keep conquering planets, they deal with the osik . Give your letter to Jango.”
Before Obi-Wan could ask for clarification, the verd spat a quick, “ Elek, alor ,” and ended the call.
Five minutes later, Obi-Wan was on a ship with two other verde in full beskar’gam heading deeper into the Mandalorian Empire.
***
The verde were not talkative. They weren’t unfriendly, but they also weren’t very open. In the five days in hyperspace, neither of them gave a name or spoke more than the absolute minimum. They each took their meals to a secured room and may very well have never removed their helmets..
Obi-Wan didn’t have a karking clue what was with the secrecy, but decided to bite his tongue no matter how curious he got.
After all, for all he knew, he’d be shot as soon as he got to his destination. Jango Fett, adopted son and heir to Mand’alor Mereel, was not known for liking Jedi. Obi-Wan distinctly remembered the sneer that would appear on the man’s face every time he saw Obi-Wan or Master Jinn during the treaty signing.
At least Jango would grant Obi-Wan a quick death. Tor Vizsla liked to play with his food.
The guards on the Republic ship had barely spoken to Obi-Wan, so at least he was rather used to the silence. And eating alone. The time for meditation was good for him. The training bond with Qui-Gon had not been cut cleanly given the short time he’d had to prepare.
Unfortunately, he also discovered he’d forged a bond with little Anakin Skywalker, Quinlan’s recent foundling. He certainly hadn’t meant to, but Obi-Wan had always had a tendency to form bonds easily. Perhaps he could request a call back to the Temple before they killed him, to warn the healers to watch Anakin. The death snap of a bond was traumatic enough for a grown padawan. For a child of six, just entering the Temple…
He really hadn’t meant to do that. Bother, and now he knew why he’d never been knighted before. He just didn’t have the discipline.
***
It turned out Alor’ann Jango Fett, and his battle fleet, were in orbit over Dathomir.
The alor’ad himself did not meet Obi-Wan’s ship when it docked. Another verd in full beskar’gam, but with his buy’ce under his arm, who looked faintly familiar, was tapping his foot in the bay as Obi-Wan followed his escorts from their ship.
“ What is this osik about sending a jetii to the Mand’alor? ”
“ Not a clue ,” one of the verde from the ship said. “ But it’s your problem now. ”
With Obi-Wan’s feet on the battleship’s deck, the two verde turned around and went back into their ship, the gangway starting to close even before they were fully within.
“ What is it with the ruyot’ade and never talking for more than five seconds at a time? ” The verd muttered. “Well, come on, jetii. Better take you to Jango.”
Well then. Obi-Wan followed through the halls of the ship, trying to remember if he’d ever heard the term ‘ruyot’ade’ before. The verde around him seemed to be enjoying themselves, happy with their lives in the way so few had seemed while Obi-Wan was on the run on Manda’yaim.
“So what’s your name, jetii? I’m Myles Onian, House Mereel.” Ah, yes, Obi-Wan did recognize this verd. He’d been with Jango Fett at the treaty signing. He at least had smiled at Obi-Wan.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi.” He gave a slight bow as they walked. “I have a letter from the Senate.”
“Yes, the Mand’alor mentioned that.” Al’verde Onian rolled his eyes. But then he stopped in his tracks and rounded on Obi-Wan. “Kenobi? The jetii’ad at the signing? Who kept Satine alive for a year?”
It took a moment and all his training to keep from gaping like a fish and smoothly say, “Yes.”
Al’verde Onian stared, as did every verd in hearing range. And then the whispers started. “Huh. This is going to be interesting.”
Since Obi-Wan had no idea what to say, he stayed silent. When Al’verde Onian stopped staring and started walking again, Obi-Wan followed.
There was a lot more staring as they traveled the rest of the way to the bridge.
“ Jango, your jetii, ” Al’verde Onian called loudly as they entered the larger space of the bridge.
“ Not now. Unless this jetii can figure out how to calm down the Nightsisters ,” a fully armored figure called back in Mando’a, never turning his head. This was definitely Alor’ann Jango Fett. The paint was the same blue and red, though the breadth of shoulders had expanded a little in the decade since they last saw each other.
The voice was exactly the same, give or take the vocoder.
And Obi-Wan pushed that all aside and tried to remember what he knew about the Zabraks of Dathomir. “ What have you done so far? ” he asked in the same language.
“ Came into orbit and tried to say hi .” Alor’ann Fett whirled around. “Who are you?”
“Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Obi-Wan bowed formally. “ Have you tried putting a genetic female on the line with them? ”
“ What would that do? ” Alor’ann Fett was staring. Obi-Wan couldn’t see his eyes, but all his attention was written there in the Force.
“ The Dathomirian Zabraks are matriarchal. The Nightbrothers are considered a lesser species to the Nightsisters. To negotiate anything with a genetic male requires extra care while a genetic female has an improved starting point. ”
“Myles?” Alor’ann Fett called, gaze never leaving Obi-Wan.
“I’ll just call my sister up here, shall I?” Al’verde Onian replied with a chuckle before putting on his buy’ce and probably triggering his internal comms.
***
Blessedly, Obi-Wan’s idea worked. Inside of an hour, the Nightsisters had agreed to open negotiations with the Mandalorians for a trade agreement, starting tomorrow, local time. Once that was settled, half the fleet was sent off somewhere else and Obi-Wan was directed to a conference room behind the bridge.
“ Someone get something to eat in here, ” Alor’ann Fett ordered, flopping down into one of the chairs and pulling off his buy’ce. “ I am not dealing with the Republic’s stupidity on an empty stomach. ”
Obi-Wan waited until someone gestured him into a chair. He still had his travel pack over one shoulder until he let it drop next to the chair he sat in.
“ So why didn’t we try that first? ” asked Ver’alor Sona Onian, Ser Myles Onian's sister, as she dropped into a chair of her own.
Alor’ann Fett looked at his lap, his lips pursed.
“ Wait… Jango, did we really come into orbit with no idea what the locals were like? ” Ver’alor Onian slapped the table.
“Food first ,” Alor’ann Fett muttered.
“ That’s a yes. Jango !”
Al’verde Onian was, at this point, laughing uproariously from his own seat, almost falling out of the chair.
“ Oh, no, vod, don’t think you’re not complicit in this ,” Ver’alor Onian said, pointing at her brother. “ I know Jaster told you to keep Jango from doing anything stupid .”
“ The matter has been settled peacefully ,” Obi-Wan cut in, hoping to prevent a fight. He’d experienced more than a little of the Mando’ade idea of a calm discussion and they were easier to face when he was in his own beskar’gam.
Al’verde Onian was holding up his gloved hands and chuffing out between bursts of laughter, “ No, that’s Silas .”
Ver’alor Onian dropped her head into her hands. “Seriously. Thank kriff the Republic sent a jetii. Maybe now we can actually have a plan .”
Obi-Wan was now thoroughly befuddled, but after more than a decade as padawan learner to Master Jinn, he was rather used to that. He took a deep breath and just tried to listen and learn.
Food arrived a moment later, and a plate was set before Obi-Wan as well as the other three in the room. It appeared no one had bothered to tell the kitchen there was a non-Mandalorian being served, but Obi-Wan didn’t mind. He hadn’t had a good tiingilar in… well, a decade. He’d become rather fond of the spicy dish during his year on Manda’yaim and took in the heady hetikles with delight.
He savored the first bite with his eyes closed, and only realized how closely he was being watched when he opened his eyes again. Alor’ann Fett was watching cautiously, Ver’alor Onian with a smirk, and Al’verde Onian with amusement.
“ Good ?” Al’verde Onian asked.
“ Very ,” Obi-Wan said, popping another bite into his mouth.
“ Well, if we had any doubt you were that Kenobi, that would silence it .” Alor’ann Fett followed up that comment with a sigh. “ All right, now what does the karking Republic Senate want ?”
All that pleasant spice began to boil in Obi-Wan’s gut. However, he did his duty and handed over the datapad the message had been downloaded to and watched as Alor’ann Fett began to read.
“ Huh, no names ,” Alor’ann Fett commented, then looked over at Obi-Wan. “ Your Senate have something against names ?”
“ No ,” Obi-Wan said, forcing calm. “ However as the exact makeup of your empire has not spread beyond your space —”
Al’verde Onian interrupted with laughter. “ Ha, I told you. No one has a clue out there. ”
“ Really ?” Alor’ann Fett asked, his attention firmly on Obi-Wan.
“ I am here to serve the Mand’alor, whomever that may be .” Obi-Wan bowed his head formally to avoid that look, and to hide the panic he was feeling. He watched through his lashes as Alor’ann Fett grunted and went back to reading—
Only to be interrupted when a whirlwind of a child came rushing into the room and jumped into his lap with a yell of “Buir.” The datapad went clattering to the floor as Alor’ann Fett wrapped his arms around the child before they hurtled right past and onto the floor as well.
A woman followed close behind, the first on the ship not dressed in full armor. She had vambraces and was well armed, but the rest of her clothes were not standard for Mandalorians. In fact, it wasn’t a style Obi-Wan remembered seeing on Manda’yaim at all. More robes and less tunics.
“ Sorry, alor, they got away from me ,” she said, but leaned against the wall with a smile.
“ That’s fine. Hello, ad’ika. Have you finished your lessons ?” Alor’ann Fett smiled and granted the child a kov'nyn that they held for a long moment.
The similarity in their features was very strong with their faces so close. Obi-Wan was surprised. He didn’t recall any hint that Alor’ann Fett was married during his time on Manda’yaim, and the child was something close to ten years old from the look of them.
“ Yes. Tebo says I should know how all races go together so I know how best to take them apart .”
Well that was a dark enthusiasm for a child of another race, but quite appropriate for a Mandalorian ad.
Alor’ann Fett glanced over at the woman, who nodded. “ That’s my ad .”
At this point the child finally looked around, and immediately focused on Obi-Wan. “ Who are you ?”
“Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Obi-Wan stood and made a formal bow, which made the child giggle.
Oh, no, that was because Alor Fett was tickling them. “ Buir ,” the child protested, slapping at Alor Fett’s hands and sprawling and wiggling across Alor’ann Fett’s lap. “ What is a jetii doing here? Aren’t they tools of the Republic ?”
That question made Obi-Wan feel sick.
“ The Republic apparently thought a jetii would be helpful to your buir and ba’buir. And they chose well. Kenobi was the one who kept Satine Kryze alive the year you were born .”
Well, that confirmed Obi-Wan’s assumption on the child’s age.
“ The jetii’ad with mandokar that ba’buir wished he could adopt ?” The child rolled back to a seat and leaned their head back against Alor Fett’s chest, studying Obi-Wan with eyes that almost glinted gold in the ceiling lights.
“ That’s the one. And they’ve already proven helpful .” Alor’ann Fett nodded. “ Jetii, this is my ad, Kotyc Fett .”
“ It is an honor to meet you, Kotyc .” Obi-Wan made another bow, this time even more formal.
Alor’ann Fett waved a dismissive hand. “ Sit, eat. Lay off the absurd formality .”
Obi-Wan did as directed, focusing on his food and the burn of the spices rather than Alor’ann Fett’s questions about his child’s lessons or Kotyc’s words about Obi-Wan. No one ever wanted Obi-Wan. Surely Kotyc had misunderstood Mand’alor Mereel’s story.
“ Well, I suppose we’d best find you a berth ,”Al’verde Onian said after young Kotyc had babbled themself out. “ Will sending you down tomorrow help or hurt ?”
Obi-Wan had been wondering that himself. The Jedi Order had no clear relationship with the Nightsisters, and he’d not researched them more than superficially. “ I honestly do not know. I could theoretically check in with the Order and check if anyone knows …”
Alor’ann Fett frowned and Obi-Wan felt himself shrinking back into himself. “ Don’t want you telling the Republic all our secrets .”
“ That is fair .” In all honesty, he wasn’t eager to tell the Council or Senate anything right now. “ Perhaps… one of my crechemates is a lorekeeper in training and should be on Coruscant now. I have their direct comm. And you could assign someone to oversee our communications .”
“ They wouldn’t immediately go reporting to your jetii’alore ?”
As mad as Bant was over this whole sacrifice shit, Obi-Wan had no doubts in saying “ No .” He could feel her anger echoing in their bond even now.
“ Let’s try it. ” Alor’ann Fett rose to his feet, shifting his child to his hip as he went. “ Not sure we can get a direct line, but a message will get things started .”
Obi-Wan was quick to his feet and barely paused to grab his bag before following at Alor’ann Fett’s heels.
***
The secure comm center on the battleship was even higher quality than that on the space station near Republic space.
“Corellian?” Obi-Wan could not resist asking. He hadn’t been sure from the halls, but this tech was very specific.
Al’verde Onian, who had followed and was now overseeing the connection, laughed. “ You bet. Best ship in the fleet, and wasn’t that a shock when it showed up .”
What?
One look at Obi-Wan’s face had Al’verde Onian laughing again. Alor’ann Fett, on the other hand, looked rather embarrassed.
“ Yes, someone who doesn’t know the story .”
“ They don’t need to ,” Alor’ann Fett muttered, but Al’verde Onian ignored him.
“ Oh, but it’s a great story, ” he says with glee. “ See Jango was trying to stand out on their own, run their own merc missions. And they get a request for some Mandalorians to take down a bunch of terrorists on Galidraan. Except when we get there, we learn they’re protesting a corrupt government. Hut’uun governor actually has been using political dissidents as slave labor in some mines and socking away the profit .”
Alor’ann Fett began growling under his breath, but his attention seemed far away. Perhaps in the past.
Kotyc pats their father on the hal’cabur, which draws a small smile from the man.
“ I don’t like lying shabuire ,” Alor’ann Fett grumbled.
“ Never have ,” Al’verde Onian said. “ So we don’t kill the ‘terrorists’, do kill the governor, and stick around long enough to help get another government in place.” He pauses, and almost breaks himself laughing again . “Two—two years later… ”
Alor’ann Fett huffed. “ Two years later, this battleship shows up in orbit over Manda’yaim and calls down that it is a tribute gift for the Mand’alor from our territory of Galidraan .”
Al’verde Onian howls with laughter.
“ And Mand’alor Mereel was… ” Obi-Wan couldn’t see the sensible, hard working man he’d met being interested in tribute. Payment for services, yes. Tribute?
“ Horrified. And insisted Galidraan be repaid until we confirmed that even after paying for droids to do the mining and improving the standard of living planet wide, the ship had still been covered by the mine’s profits .” Alor’ann Fett stretched out a hand as if saying, ‘and here we are.”
Obi-Wan was starting to get a very unexpected perspective on recent events. One that might just include his survival. Maybe.
Except Obi-Wan never had that kind of luck.
“ So next time we went off on a mercenary mission ,” Al’verde Onian said, “ We were in a brand new, top of the line Corellian battlecruiser. Which only made the next government we overthrew determined to send even better tribute .”
“ Phindar gave us fifteen camtonos of beskar ,” Kotyc chirped gleefully. “ But we got to wipe out their slave trade .”
“ A more than fair trade. Slavery should be condemned everywhere .” Alor’ann Fett spoke with firm conviction.
“ Yes, it should ,” Obi-Wan said, letting his own conviction show. Come to think of it, that might well be part of why he had bonded to young Anakin so easily. Anakin had been born into slavery and Obi-Wan was all too aware of the horrors thereof.
Alor’ann Fett gave Obi-Wan a piercing look.
“ Hmm, no direct connection, but it’s ready for you to record .” Al’verde Onian drew Obi-Wan’s attention and waved him to take the seat before the projector.
Obi-Wan assumed this would be reviewed carefully before it went out and began speaking accordingly.
“Bant, my dear. I’ve arrived safely, but feel free to tell no one, and especially not Master Jinn.” Okay, that was a bit much. “I’m calling because I need your expertise on Dathomir. General info on the Nightsisters beyond the basic info packet we all read, plus anything on their stance with the Jedi Order at the moment. On the downlow, if you please.”
Okay, now the part he’d probably have to fight over. “And Bant, can you have Quin check on little Ani. I may have accidentally formed another proto-bond.” He smiled sadly. He’d miss that little ball of sunshine in the corner of his mind. “Thanks.”
He went ahead and ended the recording and moved away, waiting for the reaction.
“Was that code?” Alor’ann Fett demanded.
“No, alor. An honest request.” Obi-Wan tucked his hands into his sleeves and gripped them tight to keep from shaking.
“Who’s Ani?” Al’verde Onian asked.
“A new initiate a friend of mine found recently. Poor boy has amazing potential, but was a slave on Tatooine. I had hoped…” Not that he had ever admitted it to even himself. “Well, by the time he’s of age, I might have been ready to take him as my student.”
“What kind of bond?” Alor’ann Fett demanded.
“Ah…” This was brushing into Jedi secrets a bit, but it couldn’t really be used against them. “Force bonds can develop between Jedi to improve communication and working together. Most commonly they are formed between teacher and student, but sometimes they form between friends.” Obi-Wan smiled self-deprecatingly. “I’ve always had a tendency to form bonds easily and without conscious intent. My crechemaster called it the will of the Force.”
Alor’ann Fett waited a moment, frowning, before asking, “Why bring it up?”
Obi-Wan ducked his head and looked at his boots. “It’s considered rude to form spontaneous bonds as an adult… and a broken bond can be painful. If something were to happen to me… I don’t want Anakin hurt.”
Looking up through his lashes, Obi-Wan saw Alor’ann Fett and Al’verde Onian sharing a look that ended with a shrug from Al’verde Onian.
“ Send it ,” Alor’ann Fett ordered. “ Attach a return number they can use .”
Obi-Wan bowed with all formality. “ Thank you, alor .”
Alor’ann Fett grumbled, “ As if I don’t get enough overblown formality as it is .” He continued in a clearer tone as Kotyc giggled. “ Jango will do fine. Myles will see you set up with a berth and anything else you need. Myles, make sure their things get delivered .”
***
Al’verde Onian did escort Obi-Wan to a room not that far from the bridge.
“Did you have anything else?” Al’verde Onian gestured at Obi-Wan’s pack. “The ruyot’ade didn’t forget to drop off a few crates?”
Obi-Wan shook his head. “No, this is all I have.”
Al’verde Onian frowned and looked around the room. It was fairly empty, though the bunk had linens and blankets. “You’ve got, what? One, two robes in that? That won’t get you through back to Manda’yaim.”
“I will be fine, Al’verde Onian. There is no need to worry.” Obi-Wan tried to smile. He was quite adept at washing everything he owned with sonics.
“Al’verde…” Al’verder Onian coughed. “Manda, no. Myles is fine. Al’verde only if we’re in battle. I’ll get ahold of Anya. She’ll get you anything you need.” He was still frowning as he walked out the door.
But before it could slide closed he turned back. “Didn’t you have beskar’gam on Manda’yaim.”
Obi-Wan struggled not to huddle down in shame. “It was placed in the archive when I returned to the Temple.”
Al’verde Onian left before Obi-Wan managed to look up again.
***
Obi-Wan was sitting on the bed in the rather nice quarters he’d been allotted, trying to remember how to think, when someone knocked at the door.
It proved to be the woman with the strange mode of dress and the vambraces from the conference room. Kotyc’s minder?
“ How may I be of service? ” Obi-Wan asked formally.
She snorted and pushed her way in. “ I’m Anya Darklighter. Myles told me you’ve got practically nothing with you .” She went straight to his bag and emptied it onto the bed before he could protest. “ I think they underestimated how poorly prepared you are. ”
“ I have completed many a mission with even less, ” Obi-Wan said, his pride more than a little pricked.
She frowned and studied him. “ Not sure what that makes me think about your Order. Robes off. ”
Obi-Wan flinched. “Pardon me?” The protest was instinct, before the reality of his situation caught up with him. He was sworn to serve, no matter how abhorrent he found the entire situation.
“ Measurements, ” she said even as he began to unwind his obi. “ You need a few more sets of clothes, and if you don’t want them as oversized as your entire bulk with the robes, I need measurements with the robes off .”
Oh. Well, that did make some sense. “ I can do quite well with what I have, ” he insisted, but did remove the layers of his robes.
She definitely recognized the kut’ika for what it was, but just set the measuring device to hover and circle him. “ Good boots. Built in sheath? ”
“‘Lek.”
“ No need to replace those just yet. Let me know if the soles start getting thin. You’ve got less boning than usual in your kut’ika .”
“ Jedi sword forms require more flexibility than full beskar’gam. ” His mircin’kale were also shorter than standard to keep the flexibility. He’d had the whole thing set up custom after his time on Manda’yaim.
“ Quality work. I can’t replace it with anything from our stores. Can you do your own customization if I give you something close to your size. ”
Obi-Wan was surprised by the offer, but nodded. He’d worked with a tailor in Little Keldabe on Coruscant to create the design, but had been sewing his own for years.
“ Full toiletries, clothes, travel gear. Any ration preferences? ”
Uncertain what to make of the question, Obi-Wan shook his head. He’d long since learned to simply endure and force down anything edible.
“ I’ll be back in the morning with everything. We’re approaching ship’s evening. Not sure if anyone mentioned that. ”
Obi-Wan bowed. “ The clarification is appreciated. Do not stint anyone on my account. ”
She gave him another odd look. “ I am ship’s quartermaster. It is my duty to see everyone aboard is properly supplied, including visitors. ” She retrieved her measuring device and tucked it back into a pouch. “ I know you ate with Jango, but there is a commissary nearby if you get hungry. Ask anyone in the halls for directions. ”
Knowing better than to thank her and imply such knowledge introduced an exchange of debt, Obi-Wan bowed again and watched her leave.
As much as he was glad not to be dead, he was getting tired of this extreme confusion.
He definitely needed to meditate.
***
“ Read this .”
Jango barely put out a hand in time to keep Myles from shoving the datapad into his face. “ What? ”
He’d just put Kotyc to bed and was still half lost in memories of his buire and Jaster doing the same for him. Surely a datapad could wait? They weren’t currently conquering anything, weren’t on mission, and Dathomir wasn’t meeting until dawn local time, mid morning ship’s time.
“ Read that...osik from those hut’uun’yc Republic .” Myles was snarling worse than he did when discussing Kyr’tsad.
Right, that datapad. Jango had started reading it and forgotten when Kotyc and Anya came in. “ It can wait until tomorrow .” He tried to hand the datapad back.
“ No, it cannot ,” Myles snapped, shoving the datapad back at Jango. And he wouldn’t let Jango put it down. “ Read it .”
“Greetings, Mand’alor, yadda yadda, osik and flattery, here’s a jetii, please don’t conquer us, sincerely, the Republic Senate.” Jango rolled off what was surely the gist, waving the datapad before him. “ It can wait .”
“ No, it can’t. ” This time the words came from Anya by the door. Jango hadn’t seen her come into his quarters. “ That jetii is convinced they're a slave .”
Okay, Jango was paying attention now. If anyone would recognize ground in slave behaviors in Jango’s akaata it would be Anya Darklighter, who had been one herself. “ What ?”
“ Did you look at them ?” Anya asked. “ Past the robes and the kad? See how they moved? Sat? Spoke ?”
“They’re a jetii. Everything is half lie, half bargain. ” Jango had spent just enough time around the jetii’alor during the negotiations a decade ago to hate the smug, superior, stuck up, shabuir.
“ The Republic sent you a jetii,” Myles said, crossing his arms across his chest. “ Barely armed, no armor, with one small bag. ”
Jango frowned. “ They had armor .” He distinctly remembered seeing the teenager, clearly not so far past their verd’goten, trailing after their jetii’alor in full beskar’gam.
“ It’s back at the Jetii’yaim. I doubt they were permitted to consider bringing it. And after reading that —” Myles gestured at the datapad. “— I’m surprised they were allowed their jetii’kad and a knife .”
“ I’m pretty sure the knife and kut’ika were snuck past the guards ,” Anya said. “ They need a full kit. Clothes, toiletries, medical supplies. They gave them one nice set of robes plus those they left the jetii’yaim in. That’s it .”
Okay, now Jango was fully focused. He held up a hand and activated the datapad. And he was right, generally, about the contents. Here’s a gift. Don’t conquer us. But… “ My Basic must be a bit less nuanced than I’d like …” Jango tilted his head as if the change in viewing angle of the words would make the implications come into better focus.
“ They sent us a jetii to murder .” Myles surged forward with a snarl.
“ Or abuse, or enslave …” Jango couldn’t be reading this right. What the kark was wrong with the Republic Senate? “ This can’t be right .” Except… the jetii had wanted to warn their fellow to protect an ad that would be hurt if they were killed. The jetii had no gear, and this letter was very clear that Obi-Wan Kenobi was now at the sole service of the Mandalorian Empire and the Mand’alor. Who they hadn’t known the identity of. Kark, if Tor Vizsla had gotten a letter like this….
Still, who would send one of theirs on an indefinite mission to a new home without the basics to set up a new home? Unless it wasn’t expected to be a home.
“ Put a round the clock guard on the jetii. I need to call the Mand’alor .”
Jango tried to ignore the smug looks on Myles and Anya’s faces as he strode out of the room.