Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Jaster finally deemed it late enough to leave his bed, Yan was already in the common room.

Obi-Wan was there too, still in his sleep clothes and sleepily staring at the bowl of fruit sitting in front of him. The boy looked healthy even if tired and was lazily chewing one slice of blue apple. Like any normal child would do so early in the morning.

Jaster felt anything but normal right now.

He wasn’t tired enough for him to say he hadn’t slept, but surely he wasn’t rested. His mind still didn’t feel like his own, the fact that he had felt emotions that weren’t his was so unsettling he would have loved to scrub his brain under hot water.

Yan raised his eyes from the fruit he was peeling “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Echoed Obi-Wan with a yawn.

“…’morning.” He grumbled. How come he still didn’t feel totally in control of his own body and the ad looked like a normal human being?

Maybe he had already thought that.

“I made tea. I would have chosen shig but I’ve yet to learn how to properly do it.” The jetti’s voice was too cheerful for his taste “What do you feel like eating? There’s fruit, and the cake I made the other day. But I can make you anything within reason.”

Jaster stared at the fruit bowl.

“How are you feeling?”

“Strange.”

“That’s the least I was expecting.” Yan hummed, arranging some cut fruits in a geometrical pattern on the plate “What about food?”

In that moment he noticed the rice and meat in the man’s bowl. It was a cold dish, that allowed him to keep peeling things for the child, only half eaten and with the fork still laying with a bite on it.

The smell was both inviting and repulsive to him, so he shrugged.

“Say it.”

“Why?”

“It gives me an idea of the state your mind is in.”

“He’s not talking though.” He nodded toward Obi-Wan, still deeply concentrated on his apple slice. The boy had yet to say a word beyond the initial greeting.

“I can literally be in his mind, he doesn’t count. Also, he meditated.”

Jaster didn’t bother questioning it. He wasn’t even sure he wanted an answer.

“Good morning.” Arla’s cheerful greeting made him internally groan.

Too much happiness around.

“So, jetti, time to spill the tea.” She heavily sat down next to him, her eyes already on the food.

“Do you want something too?”

“Are you cooking? Because if it’s as good as the meal you did the other day I’m all for it.”

Yan sighed and pushed the fruit plate towards Obi-Wan, before standing with grace despite how heavily he leaned on his cane “I’m going to consider it a compliment. Ask your father what does he want.”

Arla immediately turned towards him, laser focused on his face.

“Answers.”

“Food first. Just choose something.”

The idea of picking one made his brain itch.

Arla gripped his arm just above the elbow, studying him in a way that almost made him squirm. He hated everyone and everything.

“He’s not going to refuse whatever you are going to cook.”

He took that back, he liked his daughter.

“It’s about the act, not the choice. He has to choose himself.” Yan slammed a pan on the burner, making him flinch “Choose.”

“Eggs.”

“Me too.” Arla agreed easily “Ok, now spill.”

“The patience of the youth. Fine, ask your questions.”

“What’s a Closed End?”

“A Closed End happens when all the chances for a particular future disappear, especially when the future in question would have been a focal point in history.”

“That’s not really helpful.”

“I know. If it can cheer you up, ninety percent of the jedi don’t get it either.”

“It doesn’t.”

“This is how I explained it to Obi-Wan.” He cracked two eggs in the now hot pan “Imagine that every single thing that happens, from wars to choosing your socks in the morning, is a glass. There are bigger and smaller ones, depending on how much resonance they will have. For an event to happen, the respective glass has to be filled to the brim. Do you follow me?”

Jaster nodded, but after the jetti’s pointed glare he added a little “Yes.”

Arla did the same.

“Good. Now, the water to fill these glasses comes from the glasses that got filled before them. It’s a chain - if the cup representing your birth doesn’t get filled and consequentially overflow then you are not born and you can’t fill the cup of your vertgoten for example. The majority of glasses are personal, but some are shared between two or more individuals and their water also contributes, which is why you aren’t responsible for every single thing that happens to you. Let’s say, eating first meal with us today is possible because you are still alive, but also because you didn’t run away, you wanted answers about the vision, I am cooking and so on… all events that helped filling the first meal cup.”

Yan flipped the omelet, folding it in four a moment later. Then he slid it on a plate and used the Force to get it in front of Jaster “Eat. I can make more if you can stomach that.”

Arla hummed “What do the glasses have to do with the future?”

“Well, today your father was given the choice of which food to eat, if I had poisoned the meat he would have just avoided death and got to keep his chain of glasses, as to say. Had I killed him, all the cups waiting for him would have shattered.”

Arla nodded, as if any of that made sense “Go on.”

“When speaking about bigger events, with bigger cups, they get water from hundreds of events. Wars, the biggest I can think of, are fed by many factors. Which is why they are so difficult to stop: you should stop all those events and keep them that way to the point of leaving the cup empty.” Yan cracked two more eggs.

Arla frowned “You didn’t ask me about first meal.”

“You can get here and make your own if you’d rather have something different.”

“No, no thank you.”

“As I suspected.”

Obi-Wan perked up “Do I get eggs too?”

“Do you want them?”

“Yes please.” He had just got another piece of fruit, but he didn’t bother hiding it “Like Master Si does them?”

“Very well.”

Jaster forced himself to take a bite of his own omelette. It was good, he could recognize that, and he was hungry, but the idea of eating didn’t have much appeal.

“A chain works like this: the cup overflows and begins filling the one after, but if for some reason it stops, the following one will take a while to empty. If it gets empty, it means that every chance of that event happening is gone, and the glass shatters. If it is a little cup, no one feels the effect. If it happens to a big one, it’s a Closed End.”

“So, they felt the shattering? That’s why it hurt?”

“No. It would have hurt anyway, because it’s still a vision.They saw what should have happened if the cup would have been filled.”

“A bit like ‘see this? It’s not happening now’…” chimed in Obi-Wan before popping another fruit cube in his mouth.

The man smiled “Those are Sifo’s words.”

“Yes.”

Jaster shallowed the bite, it felt like sandpaper on his throat “So we are safe?”

“Yes. The battle as you saw it will never happen.”

That was a relief. And a big one too.

“So, that’s it?”

“For you, yes.”

“Ok, all is good, but you didn’t explain why!”

“Why what?”

“Why a Closed End is a thing.”

“I have no idea. The same way I have no idea why Obi-Wan gets that specific vision in that set of time. It’s the will of the Force.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Language!”

“Sorry.” She lowered her head for less than a second “But come on. You have to know more than this.”

“I don’t. It has been centuries since the last seer. And before him even longer. If someone had ever known that, the knowledge is long lost. I am considered an expert on the matter because of my bonds with the current seers, but it’s the same as saying that being near a sick person makes you a medic.” Yan gave her and Obi-Wan their plates, scrambled and sunny-side up respectively, finally sitting down.

The boy dag in with a hum and Jaster couldn’t do anything but stare at him.

“How do you do it?”

It was the longest sentence he had said, and it managed to get the attention of everyone.

“Do what?”

“I saw one of your vision and it had been worse than anything I’ve ever experienced, how many of those have you seen?”

“A lot. But Closed Ends are good, those bad things won’t happen.” Obi-Wan shrugged and cut a big bite off his eggs “The others are worse.”

“I can imagine that.”

Yan filled the boy’s cup with milk “Visions are always taxing, but we had a good balance before this… misunderstanding. They were less vivid and less frequent than before I took him as a padawan. What the two of you shared was not the worst type, but very close to it.”

“How can that be worse?”

“You had no physical repercussion. No convulsion, no tears of blood, no seizure, no one stopped breathing or broke an eardrum or a bone. It could have been worse. ”

Jaster shivered so violently he almost dropped the fork.

That was what the ad had to live with?

“Which is why you got lucky. Had he started to convulse, you probably would have not survived.”

“What?!”

“The hypo Lar’Nai made is tailored for Obi-Wan and, even if it was not, I only had one. Giving him medication and not you could have broken the link between your minds and got you either lost or killed.”

“Yeah, we got it. The Ka’ra blessed buir.” Arla rolled her eyes before shoving a forkful of eggs in her mouth, groaning in pleasure “So good.”

Yan went back to his own meal “This is why I keep saying to not touch them.”

“Then why didn’t you write so? Your guide doesn't...”

“Because I knew mandalorians would never do something to harm a child, while they would surely get into a vision in the false belief to either help them fight it or to see it with their own eyes.” Dooku’s eyes narrowed “You were really lucky I was there too. And lucky it happened with Obi-Wan and not any random child. His shields are basic, but he has them; he knows how to act during and after a vision so the risk of getting lost is minimal for him. You on the other hand could have got lost, you could’ve got your mind completely destroyed by the Unifying Force, you could have become a vegetable and all of that only because you are not completely Force null. There’s a reason I insisted so much on the no touch part.”

“I get it, believe me I do.”

Yan's expression softened “You had nightmares, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see Jango’s head?”

“How do you…!?!?”

“They already saw it. And they shared it with me after, so I know the majority of it. I can understand how traumatic that could be.”

“If I never see anything like that again, it would still be too soon.”

“That’s a sentiment we all share.”

Ok, enough speaking about his feelings “And how was the ad’s night?”

“Not as bad as yours. He slept. It was a Closed End after all.”

Arla glared at the jetti “It doesn’t make it any less traumatic.”

“Not really, but it’s better than seeing it in a vision and then in reality because no one listened. These kind of things are easier to deal with. Listen, I get you don’t see it right now, but he had had visions his whole life, coping after one is a skill he had to learn quickly.”

The doors opened and Myles came in with a cup of caff in hand “Alor!”

Jaster sighed “What?”

“Nothing, I’m just happy to see you’re fine. We’re supposed to leave in two hours and you still have to approve all the things I did after you got… indisposed.”

“It’s fine.”

“I appreciate the trust.” Myles sat down next to Arla, leaning forward to peek at Jaster while lunging for one of Obi-Wan’s fruit cubes “But the aliit’alore don’t share it with you. So check it out.”

He sighed, letting his head hit the table “I quit.”

“Master Yan says that all the time, but Master Yoda won’t let him.” Piped up the ad’ika “Who’s stopping you?”

“Good sense.” Answered Arla for him, her laugh barely hidden.

“I’m surrounded by traitors.” Jaster stood, leaving his half eaten plate behind, and gestured for the pantoran to give him the pad.

Myles obeyed with a sad smile “I’ll take your bag to the ship.”

“Vor’e.” He took his buy’ce, preparing mentally to the onslaught that awaited him, but after a couple of steps he stopped “Arla, come and save me at least half an hour before the departure.”

“Yes, buir.”

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Jocasta raised the kettle with the Force, moving it to the table while she used her hands for the four cups.

Padawan Pianna offered to help but she nodded her off. Neither Komari or Rael made any move, but their expressions were so different she couldn’t get angry over it.

Komari was as unwilling to be there as the other two, but unlike Rael she looked curious to see what would happen.

She filled one cup for herself, leaving it on the table, then she did the same with the other before offering it “Here, Nim. I don’t have any sugar to offer.”

She bowed her head, taking the cup without a protest “It’s fine, Master Nu. Thank you.”

The other two cups were slammed on the table next to the edge.

It was probably a bit too passive aggressive for her to act like this, but she was starting to get fed up with Yan’s padawans’ antics.

Because she could understand Obi-Wan leaving to get away from Jinn, he was seven and didn’t know any better, she could condone Feemor and Komari snooping around trying to find the boy in the Temple, but for the love of the Force Rael sneaking on the ship with Nim was truly her breaking point.

He was a master and he had chosen to sneak on a diplomatic ship headed to Mandalore. And they even managed to stay hidden for days before getting caught.

“Explain yourself.”

“I… I’d rather not.”

“You better be, Rael. And you too, Komari, since I suppose you are the one who took ration bars and other foods out of the pantry.“

“You did…”

“Yes, we did notice.” Jocasta sighed, deflating almost completely. Fighting was the last thing she wished to do now. It would be pointless too, seeing they were too far to go back and risk to anger both the Mand’alor and Duke Kryze.

She stared at Rael, suddenly tired “Why didn’t you simply ask to be here?”

“I tried. Master Yoda said I was too involved and my master and padawan brother being in danger would have made me non-objective. And that it was dangerous for Nim to go on Mandalore.”

“Usually, I’d say he’s right.” She poured the tea “But nothing in this mess has been usual, so I suppose his advices don’t really apply.“

“Master?”

Jocasta sighed, folding her robes around herself to sit next to Nim “If everything went like usual, we’d be having a very different conversation. Probably not everyone here would be alive either. If we have the chance to create friendly relationships with both mandalorian factions right now is because Yan didn’t follow Yoda’s advice. It would be hypocritical of me to scold you for doing the same, but Rael, answer me sincerely…”

She took a sip, waiting just enough to see his squirm in discomfort “Stealing a page out of Obi-Wan’s book was really the best you could think of?”

Nim bursted out laughing, diving under the table to avoid her master’s glare. Komari also hid her own silent one behind her sleeve.

“Master!”

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He knew the trip would be quick, Arla told him it would take two hours on the big ship only because it would be a little slower than a normal one. Master Yan made him meditate, again, but then he had told him what was going to happen which was a lot more interesting.

No one else had told him those things, no one ever does. Only Master Yan and Master Si took time to explain, and it was so much better. Especially because now he knew why Arla and Myles and Kerrim all looked so annoyed by going to the New Mandalorians. And why Jaster was sad over it.

Master Yan told him the Council wanted to be friends with both Jaster and Duke Kryze, and since they were to a good point with the first they had to be friendly with the latter too. It was strange, trying to be friend with someone a friend of yours didn’t like - if Quin or Bant tried to be friend with Bruck he would not be really happy, even if he stopped being mean to him.

But grown ups were strange like that.

‘Politic’ usually meant that you had to be kind to mean people, but Obi-Wan was going to wait until after he met Duke Kryze before deciding if this was politic too. It was fair, meeting Princess Breha had been ‘politic’ and even if she was different from the grown ups in the Temple she had been fun and kind and called him ‘Friend of the Royal Family’.

So maybe Duke Kryze would be like her.

Master Yan also told him to always be polite, even if New Mandalorians say mean things about the Haat’ade - see? He learned that in school, even if it took a bit to say it right.
Which wasn’t fair, but Master Yan said things not always were so outside the Temple.

Why everyone would want to leave it was beyond him. Even if the galaxy was beautiful, the Temple was better.

So now that meditation and explanation were done, Kerrim ha let him stay in the cockpit with him during the landing procedures.

It was so cool.

The starship was different from those he had seen at home, and the control panel was too, but it had less shiny lights and a lot more buttons - so many he could never remember all of them - but Kerrim was so good as a pilot Obi-Wan barely felt when they touched the ground.

“Can you press the green button for me, Ob’ika?”

He pointed at it “This one?”

“Yes.”

He did, and the spoilers retreated.

“Well done. And now the black one over it.”

The engine slowed down, the rumbling of the ship almost disappearing as a result. He liked pressing buttons “And now?”

“Now we pull this lever and then we are all done.” Kerrim showed him the lever, which was so close to him it almost dig in his thigh.

“Oh, ok.” He said, slumping in his seat.

For that, he wasn’t needed.

“Wanna pull it for me?”

He perked up “Yes!”

Obi-Wan had to stood to get to it, and it was so hard Kerrim had to help him, but they managed quickly. The korun took of his earpiece, throwing it on the console, and turned to smile at him “There’s one last button to press. Do you feel up to it?”

He nodded, ready.

Kerrim picked him up, raising him to the ceiling “You see the one under the little plastic protection? Open it, and then press the button.”

“Ok.” It wasn’t that far, but he still had to raise his arms to reach it “What’s that for?”

“It unlocks the ramp.” He was put down “Now we have to hurry or the other will go without us.”

“They can’t!” Obi-Wan took him hand and dragged him to the exit, ignoring all the people who stopped looking at them. If they wanted to stay behind he didn’t care, but they were going with Jaster and Master Yan.

Luckily, they were all still in the cargo bay when they got there.

“The longest landing to ever be seen.” Arla jumped down the crate she was sitting on “And on a new dar’manda landing pad too.”

Kerrim showed her his tongue “Shut up, you liar. I had the best co-pilot ever, and it’s thank to him the ramp is not locked and you can exit, so you’re welcome.”

Jaster smiled “You helped, Ob’ika?”

“I pushed the buttons.”

“Then I get why it was such a good landing.”

He beamed, turning to his master “See? Can I fly at home again too?”

“You destroyed the toy spedeer last time you drove one. Against a wall.” Master Yan tilted his head “You also lost a tooth. Remember?”

“Because Bruck slammed into me!”

“Still.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” He crossed his arms, stubborn “Master Alrisha said so too!”

“To drive on Coruscant you need a driver license. You can get one at the Temple.” Master Yan cocked his head to the left “Once you have that, I’ll let you drive. Deal?”

“Yes!”

Everyone giggled, but he didn’t care. When Master Yan made a deal, it was always going to happen. And he was good at school, he was going to get permission he knew it.

Jaster moved to the wall and pushed another button, the ramp finally lowering.

“Master Dooku, Ob’ika, welcome to Sundari.”

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Jaster walked out with purpose, letting his red cape move freely in the wind while Kerrim, Myles and Arla moved in formation behind his back. The other ori’ramikade flanked them, as a guard of honor.

Everyone had polished their beskar’gam, retouched the paint and cleaned every weapon to get the best image out of their arrival.

While they didn’t particularly care for the Evaar’ade’s opinion on them, Jaster was well aware that it would make things easier. No need to antagonize them from the start, especially because he wasn’t sure he would stop any of his verde from shooting whoever dared to comment their appearance. While it was still going to happen, there was a difference between criticize their armor as a 'style' and question their 'cleanliness'.

Jaster wanted to survive enough for the jettise to arrive, since they would be a more than willing buffer if Yan’s words were to be believed.

Adonai was waiting for them just outside the landing platform, dressed in ridiculously heavy clothes that would have made even breath difficult. He would never understand how a former warrior could ever feel comfortable dressed like that. Some day even his kute felt too restricting, he would rather walk around naked than put on that kind of outfit.

But Jaster could also see the bright side of it: being so tied meant less effective attacks. The idea of not being surrounded by competent warriors relaxed him, even if they still were snakes. It was the better he could hope for until they would be back to Keldabe.

Arla’s snide remarks would only remind him of that.

“Mand’alor Mereel, welcome to Sundari.” Adonai didn’t offer his arm like a Haat’ade would have, so he didn’t either. If the oh so civilized New Mandalorians didn’t care for proper greetings, he wasn’t going to beg for it.

“Duke Kryze.” He nodded, the maximum of the acknowledgement he was willing to do “I appreciate the offer of hosting the talks between us and the Republic.”

The scowl on the face of whoever the lady at Kryze’s left was almost made him smile. Despite what they thought, Jaster was able to play their game - not to the level a senator would, never mind reaching Yan’s, but he wasn’t inept.

Haran would freeze before he would thank them for following their own agenda. Sundari was chosen by the Senate, not them. That had to be clear.

Adonai didn’t react, instead he greeted Arla out of obligation before his attention went to Yan “Master Dooku, it’s good to see you well. I hope your wounds are healing well.”

“As well as I could hope.” The jetti bowed, not too deep but more than the usual as-little-as-possible movement he used in Keldabe “But I’m glad they didn’t keep me from attending this meeting. The opportunity to witness the first attempt of our people to achieve peace in centuries is something even a jedi could only wish for.”

Kiss-ass.

Adonai’s court all nodded and whispered, pleased. Several of them shuffled on their feet, angling themselves towards the jetti.

Two sentences and they already liked him. Maybe he could use the jetti’s charm to his favor, pressing the security issue with his help.

Jaster dared to steal a glance in Obi-Wan’s direction. The boy had bowed with his master, but he was standing two steps behind the man, half hidden by his body.

Was that because of anxiety or the Force was telling him to hide? After hearing about the flash-visions and the Closed End he wasn’t so sure which one he preferred. But he wouldn’t refuse some help should it come.

Yan’s smile was polite and cold, meant to be professional and nothing more, but his eyes betrayed how ready to fight he was. Everyone else was standing in formation, waiting for orders.

The silence lasted for too long to be comfortable or even born out of honest nerves. No more than ten seconds, nothing compared to previous interactions, but it felt wrong. Something was going on, and not the usual animosity between their factions. Adonai was supposed to invite them in, offer food, drinks and to show them their rooms.

He was supposed to act like a good host.

Almost like he heard his thoughts, the duke smiled and moved to show the doors “It’s an honor to have you here. I know the trip had been a short one, but let my attendants show you your room. Mid meal is still a couple of hours away, there’s plenty of time for everyone to refresh and even chat a bit. If you’ll follow them…” he elegantly suggested the four people, all human, standing on the side, and they sprang into action.

Great, so they had been split in at least four group - probably more since Jaster and Yan would probably be treated like alore.

Why were they so set into making this a security nightmare?!

He could only hope the jettise would agree with him and help out. If the Force could actually warn them of dangers then they had to.

Myles opened the internal comm, asking for directions, and half of the other immediately chimed in with insults.

‘Do what they say for now. Keep constant contact, and start planning for security and patrol. I will talk about that as soon as Kryze will ditch his entourage.’

‘They'll never agree.’

‘I don’t care. We are patrolling, the only difference is how open about it we will be.’

‘Lek, alor.’ They all chorused.

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Yan had dreaded this exact moment as long as he had known about the plan.

Not like they really had shared all the details, but he was clever enough to deduce the consequences of their ‘coup’.

Jaster had planned everything to get to Sundari a day before the envoy’s arrival to ensure the security of the palace - he said other instances had proven the New Mandalorians unable to defend themselves and their guests properly and that he wasn’t risking it - which meant that while he had an excuse to get away from Adonai, he didn’t.

Jaster had begun fighting over the security as soon as they left the landing pad, too soon and too blunt for Yan’s political comfort - not for himself, as long as politicians entertained themselves he was fine with it, but since he was the one who would have to stay and suffer the consequences he wasn’t too keen on getting Duke Kryze too worked up.

The Duke wasn’t that bad per se, his mind was sharp and he lacked half of the usual reasons that would have made Yan dislike him as a politician on spot, but his entourage was something else.

If Prime Minister Almec repeated once more how barbaric True Mandalorians were for simply ensuring their safety he would start to insult them the way he did with annoying senators. To sith hells keeping the peace, he would make them blunt enough to be sure they would be perceived as insults while still being perfectly polite.

While the others were shown their rooms, both Jaster and Yan had been brought to an elegant dining room already set with tea and appetizer. While he could appreciate the effort, the sheer number of people now surrounding them was ridiculous. Did they really think they were being subtle?

He could feel their curiosity about meeting a jedi in the Force, a feeling like sparkling water on his tongue strong enough to be uncomfortable.

He was surrounded by nobles, all dressed in pompous clothes that looked uncomfortable to breath in, never mind doing anything else. And they were all eyeing Obi-Wan, who had chosen to walk clutching the lower hem of his tunic instead of standing at the proper distance a padawan should keep.

Not that he cared about etiquette right now, but it was telling of how he was reading the room that he didn’t feel comfortable. During his first mission on Alderaan, when they weren’t even a master and padawan duo, he had been confident enough to leave his side looking for cookies. Here, he doubt he would step half a room away from him.

Jaster waited for Duke Kryze to assign the seats, which Yan supposed was the Mand’alor’s quite well studied move in keeping the peace.

At least they were put next to each other, which gave him the chance to sat Obi-Wan between the two of them. The ladies could gossip over that all they wanted, the boy was the safest like that.

“Can I offer you a cup of tea? This is the finest chandrillian tea.” The Duke gestured for the teapot, but it was a servant that took it to fill the cups. It wasn’t lost on Yan that his cup and Kryze’s were filled at the same time, from two different teapot, while Jaster’s got one only after them.

From the way he was holding himself he noticed that too, but the Mand’alor didn’t comment on it. He was still wearing his helmet, so the whole group was probably hearing his complains.

Another attendant arrived with a bottle of some bright pink juice, handing it to Obi-Wan.

He didn’t look too happy about that, but he still took it “Thank you. What is it?”

“You never had it?” The lady at Almec’s right smiled, her voice downright condescending “It’s the most popular one between our children.”

Not what he asked, Yan bit back.

“It’s klira juice.” Answered at the same time the attendant, before ducking his head and disappear.

It was what now? Klira fruits were normally red, and the juice should have been fucsia at his worst, not that shade of pink.

The burst of disgust from Obi-Wan almost made him laugh out loud. Klira was the flavor a lot of integrators chose because its natural sweetness would hide the taste of the chemicals in it, but to his padawan it only reminded the sick days spent in the Halls.
It had come to the point he would puke by the smell alone, and Yan had to stop keeping it in their quarters and only eat it while the boy was with his Clan.

There was no way it would end well.

“I apologize for my rudeness, but I have to decline it. Obi-Wan is deadly allergic to klira fruit, even the smell is enough for a reaction.”

He ignored Jaster’s spark of interest at the information to subtly glare at the woman who got annoyed by his response.

“No need to apologize for it.” Kryze’s smile was even sincere when he turned to Obi-Wan “Is there something you would rather drink?”

“Green milk? Please.”

“Of course.” A nod to his right and an attendant disappeared.

“Master Dooku, may I ask if you are related to Jenza Dooku, Countess of Serenno?” The same woman piped up with a little smile “Her ambassador came to establish a commercial route with us a while ago, we only have the details to define yet.”

As if she didn't already know that. It was truly a poor attempt at bringing up the subject, but he knew exactly how to answer to it “I…”

Jaster spoke before he could “Duke Kryze, I believe we need to discuss more pressing issues than exchanging pleasantries.”

The whole table rolled their eyes.

Yan had punished padawans for way less. He had seen wars begin because of such a blatant disrespect between parties. New Mandalorians were lucky the Haat’ade weren’t really the bloodthirsty warmongers they believed.

“Does it…”

“Yes, it does.” Jaster slammed his hand on the table, making Obi-Wan jump, but his focus was only on Kryze “I won’t risk the safety of my people because you are too arrogant to see the truth. I won’t risk the alliance with the jettise for it either.”

“We are the ones that wanted it.” Sneered Almec “We are the reason it’s even possible.”

Great, we are here already. Yan was sure he had done something in his past life to deserve this. They had landed less than an hour before and they were already throwing merits and faults to each others’ faces. Tomorrow would never come quick enough.

“It’s us the Republic wants to…”

“Mand’alor! Duke!” He raised his voice, as much as possible without yelling “May I suggest a more private setting for this particular discussion? Screaming about possible strengths and weakness is hardly a clever move. The two of you would also suffice for it, it would be a shame to ruin this wonderful morning with such grime topics.”

Don’t argue, don’t you dare to argue back. He sent his thoughts to Jaster, willing the barely Force sensitive man to hear him despite it being nearly impossible.

Yan knew he was intelligent enough to get it nonetheless.

Kryze luckily deflated almost instantly, smothering his own clothes to avoid answering, and after a long moment Jaster nodded too.

“The jetti is right.”

“The wisdom the Order brings to the galaxy is always a gift.” Commented the klira lady sipping her own cup.

By the glint in her eyes Yan already knew he would need an emergency plan to get away the moment she would inevitably corner him alone. He never had and never will sleep his way out of any negotiation or treaty.

“Very well.” Kryze stood, smiling benevolent at the table “Mand’alor, if you will…”

Jaster stood too, leaving the room walking exactly next to the duke.

Thank the Force.

The bubble of silence popped when the attendee brought Obi-Wan his glass of milk. The table got back to the quiet chatting and the klira lady got back to her questioning.

“So, Master Dooku, as I was saying…”

“You are ahead of me, my lady. You know my name but I don’t know yours.”

The gobsmacked look lasted half a second before she hid it with a chuckle “Forgive me, I was so ecstatic for the chance of helping the Republic to further its politics of peace and integration that I forgot my good manners. I am Siala Evas.”

“Lady Evas is the responsible of our social policies, she had done a wonderful job in integrating those who run from the violence of war and looks for the peace of our sanctuary.” Interjected Almec.

Even before the last two months, Yan wouldn’t have believed that.

He really wanted to talk with those ‘refugees’, hearing from their voices what their reality was. Not from the woman that was responsible for it.
It would have been like asking the senators about the lower levels. Pointless.

But also… “Interesting. How did you manage to make so many different cultures merge in a successful way? The jedi are those who cares for the lower levels, we could use your suggestions for Coruscant too.”

She had no idea of what to say, because she had either lied or exaggerate her results - results she had probably nothing to do with in the first place. The sputtering she made was exactly his goal.

Obi-Wan sent a questioning feeling to him so he sent back his own satisfaction, pairing it with a image of Initiate Chun being scolded by Alrisha for lying.

The boy shifted on his seat, hiding his smile behind his glass of milk.

Yan graciously let her change the topic, moving to the jedi order. Specifically, what they wanted to achieve with the True Mandalorians - with them, as Lady Evas said.

His petty side admired how fitting as a derogatory term ‘new darmanda’ was.

They were so clearly new to the whole interplanetary politic scene that he almost pity them; not even wookies and trandoshians were so offensive to each other in diplomatic settings. Even if it was just because they knew the jedi tended to side with the less problematic party involved, and that was always an advantage everyone wished for.

“After the misunderstanding on Galidraan, we simply wish to heal what was broken. We never meant to fight the Haat’mando’ade, and the Death Watch’s attack should bring us together against a common enemy rather than divide us even more.” Yan smiled politely, inching forward to grab a pastry for Obi-Wan “We will work toward the goal of not only having an official relationship with both you and them, but also be able to call the people of Mandalore allies and friends of both the Republic and the Jedi Order.”

As he had planned, the hint to the future moved the conversation on their expectations. It was petty, and he almost felt dishonest getting so much information when they were offered so naively. 'Almost' being the key word.

They were lucky he wanted peace and not a commercial agreement.

With a smile, he began asking for clarifications.

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Jaster considered himself a patient man.

After raising Arla and Jango no one could really say the contrary, but still. Speaking with those detached from reality, full of themselves darmanda really put that to test.

He kept scolding his verde for calling them that out loud, courtesy between non-enemies and all, but they were so set into trying to make him snap he would surely do so before the end of this stupid… what had the jettise called it? Meeting? Treaty? Whatever.
Being a patient man meant he waited for them to be out of sight before ripping his buy’ce off with a snarl “You were a ori’ramikad, how can you stand for this? How can you have guests and not guards!?”

"I… they are not needed.” He didn’t sound too sure “They wouldn’t dare to attack Sundari.”

“They bomb hospitals! They kidnap and brainwash children! I don’t think that ‘dare’ is the right word to use. They will do it, if they’ll see the chance.”

How could one be in charge and still so blind? Sundari had been spared until now because they were no threat. Until Keldabe will hold strong, they will be the main target of their attack. And since he didn’t plan to loose the war, he would sacrifice Sundari to not waste or divide his own forces should that change. Maybe that was a point he could talk to Yan about, make sure the jetti will bring that up for the duke to actually wake up.

“Adonai, I get it. An alor keeps the title only as long as they have the council’s favor. And yours is against the idea of having trained soldiers around.” He had seen the old spark of a warrior in the duke’s eyes, he knew Jaster was right “Let me do it. Tell them I did whatever they’ll believe to justify it, but don’t make it even more difficult. Kyr’tsad bombed Keldabe three days ago, their plan surely doesn’t stop at annoying me.”

Adonai pinched the bridge of his nose “Do it, but I want you to share the patrols route, squad names and time tables.”

“Fair.”

“Do you think I don’t know? I fought at your side. I’ve seen what they are capable of." Adonai sighed "We have guards. They mostly patrol the city, and they work just fine, but they are no match for Death Watch. I will recall as many as possible, pair them with your verde.”

They will curse him for the next month, but it was a fairly reasonable request. It would help with the civilians, and give a better first impression to the envoy.

“Give me a list, I will see them organized.”

“I will have them reunited for tomorrow morning, they will be here to hear their assignment.”

“I’m sending them on patrol today. As soon as I give the order, they will go.”

“Did you plan this?!”

“Of course I did! Like every other time we came here.” He raised his voice, barely keeping from screaming “If they won’t take my worries seriously I will take the matter in my own hands.”

Kryze glared at him, but dismissed him with a gesture “I want that list.”

“I already said yes.”

“Then go, I have a guest to care for.”

Jaster had to bit back a remark, letting him go with a smirk. The jetti wanted everything but being entertained, especially from them. But well, if the jettise’s reason of being was nurturing peaceful relationships with people, he wasn’t going to interfere.

Let him have what he was trained to do.

Better Yan than himself after all.

He put back his buy’ce “Myles, all clear. Send the list the the duke.”

“‘Lek, alor.”

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Yan gently nudged Obi-Wan with his foot, keeping him from falling asleep.

Well, he was more zoned out, but still not something he should do right now.

The boring-why-do-they-keep-repeating-things-boredom-help he sent as an apology was the least he could expect, and totally shared. The first meeting with a new culture was supposed to be if not exciting at least interesting, since learning new costumes was the best part of this job.

Not here apparently.

They had asked after the Republic, again and again, as if that would change his answers, with few inquiries about the Order in between. And nothing more.

Yan regretted not having a chrono, because between his annoyance and Obi-Wan’s disinterest he had completely lost his sense of time.

At the boy’s prodding he sent a making-friends-even-if-boring-I-know-be-strong hoping he would resist at least until the Duke’s return.

They had left a perceived three days ago, so probably something between fifteen to thirty minutes, and even if he knew Jaster would use the excuse to escape, the Duke was a better company than his entourage.

Lady Evas had introduced five of her friends to him, but they had stopped noticing he wasn’t contributing five minutes after that, leaving him to interact with Almec mostly.
He wasn’t complaining, obviously, but he still had to interrupt and ask for explanations when he lacked the context and he hated being unprepared.

Obi-Wan pulled his sleeve “Can I have some grapes?”

The table was covered in food, but between the post vision first meal and the imminent mid meal he wasn’t too keen on feeding him more. What if New Mandalorians would take offense in not finishing a plate? They didn’t look as lenient towards children as their counterpart. Still, some grapes shouldn’t hurt too much.

Yan took a bunch of grapes, the smallest he found, leaving half of it in the bowl with a little misuse of the Force “But no more than this.”

“Ok. Thank you.”

He chose to send his affection down their bond, leaving his body language the same he had since walking out of the ship. They may be wannabe ally, but he wasn’t going to give them the impression he could be hurt by hurting his padawan.

Better being considered heartless monks than risk their younglings like that. He had made a similar mistake with Rael once and it ended with the boy almost beheaded to force him into messing the negotiation between a mining company and the locals. Not like they would get that close to him should the need…

“Master Dooku.”

The title, something he had heard only when Arla had meant to mock him in the last two
months, dragged him out of his mind. Duke Kryze was now standing next to a little girl dressed in a baby blue dress, a hand on her shoulder.

“This is my eldest daughter, Satine.” The girl made a royal bow, her face too serious for her age “I believe she’s of similar age as your padawan. I suppose the children could play together while we chat. No need to bore them to death.”

A couple of whispers followed that - the scandal of speaking like a normal sentient he supposed - but Yan turned the question to Obi-Wan down the bond.

His padawan was clearly curious, and the possibility of making a new friend was tempting, but he could feel his anxiety at the idea of being alone in a new place.

“Would it be possible to stay near them while doing so? Obi-Wan is a bit wary of new places.”

Not like it had been a problem before the escapade, but Yan was sure Master Lya would be able to help once they were back at the Temple.

“Of course. Can I propose the gardens?”

”What a wonderful idea. Plenty of space for them to play and for us to sit and chat some more.” Commented Lady Evas with her high pitched voice.

I’d rather eat swamp soup for a month he thought while forcing a smile “It truly is.”

“Very well. Follow me, the tea and appetizer will be brought to us shortly.” The last part was obviously meant for the servants, who immediately moved to execute.

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The garden was beautiful, but never as much as the Temple’s.

Especially his favorite, the one modeled after Kiffu. Quinlan was always so happy to be there and he liked seeing him like that because the Force always get so warm and fuzzy he could barely stop giggling.

Satine was still holding her father’s hand, but she turned to look at him a couple times.

She felt curious in the Force, so he was hopeful she will want to play with him.

Bant, Siri and Lumi never wanted to look at bugs like Quin, Garen and Reeft, but some bugs were so ugly even he didn’t like them, so he would have to look for the cutest one to show her. Maybe she had plastic cups and pot? He liked tea party too, but only if Master Ulthero wasn’t the head of it, because then it would be a lesson on how to use those things and that wasn’t fun.

Well, once Quin put a frog in the pot Lumi was using and when it jumped out she screamed so loud Master Yoda came to see too, and then he did an awesome jump and caught the frog, so Lumi had hugged him but then Master Yoda had eaten the frog and Bant started crying and Master Alrisha had to bring her out to calm down. That had been fun, even if Quin got punished.

Satine’s dress was very light, unlike the grey pants and green shirt he was wearing, and her dad would probably get angry if they got dirty, but he had plenty of training in staying clean with the white tunics he wore in the Temple so it was going to be fine.

Maybe he should ask for her favorite spot? It was her garden after all. She should know what to do to have fun in it.

The duke made them walk into a circle of grass, with a lot of chairs set around little round tables. There were a lot different flowers growing on those net-like walls gardens were always full of, red and yellow and pink and blue and purple and even some fruits he didn’t recognize.

His master tapped on his shields, making him refocus on the duke. They were the only ones still standing, the others were scattered around chasing the trays with the food they wanted.

“Satine, this is Obi-Wan. He’s a jedi.” Duke Kryze’s smile was a lot better than the one he had so far, and he was pushing Satine towards him a bit. He was still half hidden behind Master Yan, but he wasn’t sure he should move yet.

What if she didn’t like him?

Satine waved “Hi.”

Master Yan pushed him too “Hi.”

“Why don’t you show him the pond? You can tell him about the fishes.”

He perked up “Fishes?”

“Yes, right Satine?”

The Duke nudged her again and this time she nodded “There are a lot of them and they are of all colors and the littlest one shine in the sun. Wanna go and see them?”

“Yes!”

She started running, but after a couple of steps she stopped and turned “Come with me.”

Obi-Wan obeyed, leaving Master Yan’s robes, but she walked away before he got to her side. He ran a bit, catching up to her.

“Don’t run.”

“Why?”

“It’s wrong. They always scold me, because I ruin the dresses. And ladies don’t run.”

“I’m not a lady. I’m a padawan.”

“They’re gonna scold you too.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I know.” Satine turned left, a tall bush hiding the grown ups from sight “But they won’t see us at the pond. Let’s go.”

They ran, moving along both paths in stone and on grass fields, and he bit back a laugh. He didn’t want to get them caught, but it was fun.

The pond wasn’t too big, but maybe it was deep. The fishes had to have enough space to swim after all, Kit told him all about it.

He didn’t like deep water, but it wasn’t a river so maybe it would be fine; Satine said she couldn’t ruin her dress, and that meant no getting wet.

They won’t swim either, so it was ok to get closer.

The water wasn’t really transparent, but a bit purplish. Strange, but maybe it was for the fishes? Different planet had different everything after all.

Satine grabbed his hand and made him walk a couple of steps from the bank “There’s a stone over there. It’s big, we can put the feet in if you want. And all the fishes are there usually.”

He didn’t answer, because he wanted to see them, but he wasn’t going to get wet. Wet was bad except in the bathtub. There it was fun, with all the bubbles.

The stone was really big and flat, and they could get on it at the same time. Despite the dome over the city, the sun had warmed it enough for him to feel it through his pants.

Satine shoved her hand in the pocket of her dress, taking out a slice of bread “It’s old, Lady Nyeb forgot it in the cupboard so I took it for them.”

“Who’s Lady Nyeb?”

“She stays with me when dad is working and I have no lessons.” Satine bit the slice, using one hand to gather all the crumbs she made chewing it. She went on until a piece got off, then she threw both the crumbs and the piece into the water.

“Now we need to be really silent or they won’t come up.”

Since it was her garden, Obi-Wan did what she said. At the Temple, silence wasn’t needed for the animals to show up. Even the tookas didn’t care, rather they followed noise to find someone to play or feed them. But maybe these were different kind of animals?

He couldn’t hear any bird singing, but there was some kind of music coming from far away because it was barely audible. It was a good kind of music, calm and relaxing, almost hypnotizing.

The bond with his master wasn’t as open as it was in their quarters - a bit more like when he was with the Council and didn’t want him to know he was annoyed - but he could still feel warm-near-I-am-here and it was so soothing he almost start meditating.

Almost.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how long it had been but Satine’s huff made him jump. That was too loud!

“I don’t know why they don’t come up!” She whined, crossing her arms so quickly she hit him to do so.

“Ehi!”

“Sorry.”

“Mmph.” He leaned over, putting his left hand underwater.

It was easy to call fishes, for him at least - all the masters said Obi-Wan always had a tooka with him in his crib after he had a trip to the Halls, because they would pass next to the gardens and the tooka would follow him back to the nursery. Master Si said Master Yan was not able to do it, like he had tried to learn it but never managed it. That was why he didn’t like any of the pets Obi-Wan had ever brought back to his room.

But he was good at it! Like, really good. And fishes were the easiest, because they just had to swim up.

It only took a couple of seconds for them to arrive.

They were so many! Purple, yellow, red, green, orange, white and a lot of other colors that looked like a only body because they moved so fast over each other.

He send them a wave of calm and they slowed down to the point they were mostly still, just pretty blobs of colors underwater.

“How did you do that?” Satine’s voice was both happy and shocked “They never come up so quickly! Not even for bread!”

“It’s the Force, it calls to other living beings.” That was how the masters had explained it, he called and they just answered. Because all animals were friendly with jedi, even those usually not so much. He had learned that at the rescue zoo, even if he got Master Yan angry by sneaking in the cages.

“You think they will do that if you’re not here?”

“Not sure, but I think not.” He fumbled for words, not wanting to make her sad “But you should give them names, so they can still be your friends.”
Satine didn’t look too convinced, but she pointed to a pink fish “That’s Klira, like the fruit.”

He wrinkled his nose, trying to not comment “And the purple one?”

“Clip.”

“Why?”

“I like it.” She pointed at the red one “That’s Cuy, like su’cuy, because he’s always the first one that comes up.”

“And the yellow one?”

“I don’t know.”

“What about Quin?” Obi-Wan wriggled his fingers and it swam around them “I have a friend named Quin. He has a yellow tattoo.”

“Ok.” Satine smiled “Then the orange and white one has to be Obi, so they can be friends too.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue, but I can’t name it like me, it gets confusing.”

“But you named it Obi.”

“You don’t live here.” She tapped her lip with a finger “Well, now a Obi will live here, but it’s not going to be you.”

“I like it.”

They kept naming them for a while, because she never believed him when he said that particular fish already had a name. They were different in the force, it wasn’t a lie.

When the fishes ended, Satine offered to teach him how to make a flower crown but before they could even finish picking them three other children arrived running.

They were two boys and a girl, all of them human and with blond hair. It was a bit unnerving.

“I’m Began and he’s my brother Begbe.” The boy on his left said “And this is Tiali. Her mom works for our mom.”

“Hi.” Tiali waved, hiding her face behind her tooka plushie.

“Do you want to play with us?” Begbe asked “We have a ball.”

“Yes!”

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Sifo sat down on the bed, glad that Yan had chosen to get a stool instead of a creche cot for Obi-Wan’s bedroom.

Jocasta glanced at him, but she had the good sense of keeping her comments to herself.

The pile they made on the desk was still too big, but at least they were getting better. The clothes had been all rejected with the exception of one single initiate outfit, mostly because Sifo was sure the familiarity of it would help settle the boy should he need it. Books, toys and his slippers were the problem: how little or how much would he need? They didn’t even know how long it would take for them to come back.

Alrisha was there too, the list of schoolwork Obi-Wan missed open on her pad “Well, he needs to do his writing exercises, but flimsi will be easy to get there too. I already downloaded videos and holorecordings, and added my notes. His teacher asked us to make the younglings read from handwritten texts, so Ulthero wrote seven stories and we all copied them to mix things a bit. I’ll give you those papers, but should any of you get bored you are free to add your own child friendly story. Yan too, if he can shed the academic tone long enough to do so.”

“Ulthero wrote the stories?” Sifo smirked “About his missions I suppose.”

“That’s why I said child-friendly. They are quite interesting too.”

“I remember his reports.” Jocasta put a couple of books back to the bookshelf “Rarely I’ve seen someone write so well.”

“Crechemasters always pull the most random talents out of nowhere. Like writing arguments against the Grandmaster himself. That’s how you know they’re good ones.” Sifo said it looking at Alrisha, ready for he snide remark - it was a side she hid from her younglings but let free with people she was comfortable with.

But she didn’t answer. Her eyes were lowered on the pad.

“Alrisha?”

“Doesn’t Obi-Wan’s escape disqualify me from that title?” She murmured “He ran away…”

“What happened is on Jinn and on Jinn only.” Jocasta closed her eyes “We should have stopped Yoda from his machination, but the Grandmaster holds way too much power. Something that needs to change.”

“Still. He chose to leave instead of coming to me, or Ulthero.”

“He chose Yan.” Sifo had spent several sleepless night thinking about it. And that was the closest to the truth he would ever get.

It wasn’t a lack of trust in them, he simply chose his master. The bond they shared was the strongest, and rightfully so. Masters and padawans had to have that kind of relationship.

And strangely enough, Sifo hadn’t felt any bad feeling after that revelation; he had been sick, too weak to even walk around, and the healers had made all of his bonds dormant to avoid any stress on his healing shields.

And while he himself still felt the childish love he had for his own crechemasters, they also were responsible for the whole clan and not so exclusive as his own master had been.

The curse of the Creche.

So many little lights depending on you and leaving you behind, never getting to keep one.

“You yelled at Yoda for him. Both you and Ulthero worked around his direct order to get him away from Jinn. He even punched Qui-Gon for Obi. No one can accuse you of failing at your duties.”

She made half of a smile “Many would do it for those same reasons.”

“Obi-Wan is a seer, and a strong one.” Sifo scoffed ”Challenge whoever say so to care for a child that gets lost in the Unifying.”

“I’m not sure that will help my point.”

“It would help me.”

Jocasta laughed, broking the veil of sadness off everyone. Alrisha joined in, her mood lifted back to her cheerful self.

“So, a change of clothes, Ulthero’s stories, the school pad, two flimsi books, his colors, the mini figures and the slippers… anything else?”

“I have his blanket. Quinlan is adamant Obi-Wan gets it.” The chiss woman offered the item “Well cuddled and soaked with love, as he said.”

“And not to forget the most important thing.”

Both women turned to him with a raised brow before smiling at what he had in his lap.

“Of course, how could we forget?”

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The knock on the door took Yan by surprise.

Surely nothing could have happened in the last twenty seven minutes to warrant an emergency summoning - despite how much they hated each others, the Haat’ade would never attack an helpless enemy and the New Mandalorians weren’t that eager to insult them.

“Yes?”

“Duke Kryze wants you to know mid meal will be served in thirty minutes in the primary dining room, if you follow me I’ll bring you there…” the attendee made half a bow to end his offer and Yan had to make an effort to not take offense.

The fact that jedi bow to show respect wasn’t either to be mocked or used in a pitiful attempt to gain his favor. It had to be done in the right way or none at all.

“Obi-Wan, are you ready?”

“Ye-mmph… Yes, master.”

By the sound of it he tripped on something, probably his own feet. He was seven, he still had time to grew out of his clumsiness.

After all, he even had his shoes already on. Komari had never been ready at the right time, and that was a skill a lot more difficult to teach.

Yan grabbed his cane with the Force, closing the door behind the two of them “Lead the way.”

His leg had gotten better since the battle, but it was a far cry from being healed. It still hurt most of the time, and even with a modified dose of painkillers it was barely manageable.

He had never longed for the Halls before.

The Force truly shows us how to see things under different lights.

Obi-Wan once again grabbed the hem of his tunic, wary. From the way the Force was moving around him, Yan suspected a vision was near.

Still a couple hours at least and most likely a flash one, seeing how glitchy it was.

In the Temple, he would cancel any appointment and stay in their quarters, but he couldn’t refuse to go to the first meal hosted by a foreign head of state.

He could probably get Jaster in the loop and get his help for leaving quickly should it get to that point too soon.

The Force calmed once again, going back to the quiet hum it was supposed to be around a child, and Obi-Wan relaxed.

Luckily, they didn’t have to walk too long before joining the others.

The table was dressed for thirty guests, with some of the finest cutlery he had ever seen. It looked like they were going all out for the event.

The walls were strangely devoid of any decoration except a banner with the New Mandalorian’s sigil that proudly hang at the Duke’s back, but there were several little service tables with more drinks, cutlery and what he supposed were the appetizers for the meal. There were no seats beyond the chairs around the table, but seeing as everyone was still standing he didn’t feel like risking to break some untold rule by taking one before being allowed to.

To alleviate the weight on his leg he guided Obi-Wan towards the windows, leaning as subtle as he could against the wall.

How he missed the healers. Yan was sure at least one of them would come with the envoy, and he could probably convince them and Jocasta to put him in a healing trance for a day or two and speed up the whole process.

A waitress came to him, offering a tray full of glasses of red, white and vegetable wine. He took one without looking, he was fine either way and he didn’t plan of doing anything more than wet his lips with it.

“Did you really betray us after less than a day?!”

Yan didn’t even acknowledge Arla’s question, bringing his glass of wine to his lips without looking at her.

“So?” She crossed her arms, pointing to Obi-Wan with her chin at the same time ”Are you not going to answer me?”

How dramatic that girl could be? She would get along well with Komari.

Yan glanced around and lowered his voice, making sure no one was close enough to hear him “Your father is the one who left me alone with twenty-seven politician wannabes, you can’t blame me for what I did to get away. The duke was quite kind to allow it, actually.”

“This is bribing.”

“No, this is Obi-Wan getting mud on his clothes and giving me an excuse to leave their… informal gathering. I wasn’t going to refuse their offer when they had been kind enough to make it in the first place.”

Arla rolled her eyes “Why do you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like being kind to a child is that extraordinary.”

“Because it is. You have no idea how worse it get with nobility, it’s almost like they see them as nothing more than objects. My first padawan once got himself drenched jumping in a lake to save the princess of the planet we were on, it was the middle of winter and I had to give him my coat and regolate my temperature with the Force because their welcoming ceremony was more important than taking my apprentice inside. Offering clean clothes because of mud? Points to the Duke for even noticing it.”

“How did he manage that, by the way? Where did he find mud?” Myles arrived with two glasses, offering one to Arla.

“We went to the gardens, he was playing with other children.” Yan faked another sip of wine. It was good, a white wine he was sure he had already drunk but couldn’t really pin down. Among friends, not on duty, he could have enjoyed it.

The room was slowly filling with all those he left in the gardens plus what he supposed where their spouses and relatives. Some were wearing uniforms, the grades on their chest the only visible difference, so he supposed some kind of civil officer? Surely not military.

Lady Evas was not so discretely glancing at him halfway through the room, on the opposite side of the table. The pure hate in her eyes every time they laid on Arla was a bit uncalled but he was going to use it for his own purpose.

Lamely, avoid her company.

“I haven’t asked you for anything…” he began lightly, but Arla snorted “You kind of did, while throwing the aliit’alore against the walls.”

“That was me protecting my padawan, you should like that type of things.”

“Oh, we do.”

“Also, that wasn’t asking, it was a threat.”

Myles grinned while the girl’s smile grew mischievous “Fair enough. Go on.”

“What happened between you and Lady Evas?”

“Who?” Arla followed his eyes before grinning “Oh, her.”

“So?”

“Both her sons, her precious perfect children meant to get her more power by marriage, left as soon as they could and swear loyalty to Jaster. They are bounty hunters now.” Myles smirked in his glass “It was quite the hit for her career, with all the gossip going on about why they both left. She kept telling that rigor and discipline were the right way to raise ade for the world we live in. Made her political persona around it.”

“Yeah, and I was the one they talked about the Haat’ade.” Arla waved in her direction “She didn’t appreciate that.”

“I see.”

“How did she get on your black list?” She asked “Did she offend the jedi by giving you advice?”

“More like I can feel her fantasies about me and really want to keep them in her mind.”

They both stared blankly at him but he refused to elaborate.

Jaster arrived in that moment, his grin almost apologetic “I see you survived. How did it went?”

The only reason Yan acted as if he hadn’t been left in a nest of snakes was that he would have done the same in his place. That and he technically was depending on him for a day more.

“They didn’t change my opinion on the Haat’ade, if that’s what you asked.”

“Not really, but it’s appreciated. I heard Satine made an appearance.”

That sounded strange “An appearance?”

“I’ve seen her once since the announcement of her birth, Adonai is a bit overprotective and rarely let her out when he has guests.”

“Mh. She played with Obi-Wan in the garden.”

“Ah, yes, I heard about the change. That was an attempt of lowering the number of people around, for your information. It was kind on his part to try and do that.”

“That’s why everyone ran out? They were afraid the chairs would end?”

“Exactly.” Jaster’s eyes were shining with mirth “So, how did going to the garden became a change of clothes?”

“Satine and Obi-Wan behaved perfectly until three other children arrived with a ball. They played for maybe fifteen minutes before Obi-Wan dived in to save Satine’s dress from the mud, getting completely covered in it. We got excused for a quick bath.”

“A real hero.”

“Satine kissed him for his trouble, so I agree.” He smiled too “Apparently, she just had to keep her dress clean.”

Obi-Wan popped up “She gave me a praline.”

“And here I though jedi didn’t get anything out of their trouble.” Joked Arla

The boy wilted “Should have I said no? I didn’t mean…”

“You did nothing wrong. Don’t worry.” and for good measure, Yan hit the Fett girl’s shin with his cane, where her armor didn’t cover her.

“Ehi!”

“Stop making him doubt himself.”

“I wasn’t…!”

But the Force got sharper and he zeroed on Obi-Wan, the rest of her phrase lost to his ears.

The little vortex around the boy was chaotic, but in a controlled way. He had felt it enough times in the last few days he had learnt the meaning: a flash vision.

No tremors, no shivering, no other symptom. Only him staring in the void.

The three mandalorians froze but he couldn’t care less.

It already felt gentler, the grip of the Force disappearing as quickly as it came, and Obi-Wan started breathing again.

The last thing Yan wanted was to attract attention, so he simply put a hand on his back “Are you alright?”

The boy nodded before turning to Jaster with teary eyes “Don’t drink from the third glass.”

“… what?”

What was difficult to understand about that? It was the most straightforward direction the Force gave in the history of the Order!

“That is one.” Obi-Wan pointed to the wine glass in his hand “Don’t drink from the third.”

“I… I will keep that in mind.”

A bell rang, quieting the whole room.

“The meal is served, please take a seat.”

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Jango stared outside, letting the stars turned lines of the hyperspace quiet his thoughts.

The mission had been a success, they didn’t have too many fatalities, several of their prisoners were high ranking and could give them valuable information and his contact had thanked him for avenging his family and promised to keep an ear out for any other Kyr’tsad outpost.

He wasn’t sure that his bloodthirst regarding Death Watch will ever disappear, but for now it was satisfied enough to let him go back home.

He wasn’t comfortable knowing his buir and vod were in Sundari without him. They were good verde, obviously, but it still didn’t sit right to leave them there alone.

Jaster would probably force him to see a mir’baar’ur should he ever find out, but he could live with everything if his family was safe.

The lie he said about his whereabouts was white enough, and he doubted his father would tell him off for actually going to Sundari.

He had wanted to be back well before the meeting, but as things were he was going to arrive at the New Darmanda’s door with the jettise and their envoy.

More or less. Probably a couple of hours either before or after them, he wasn’t too sure.

But he was going to be with his aliit for that.

Ready for whatever the future had in store.
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Midmeal had been delightfully void of any excitement.

Yan had got to eat good food and chat mostly with Obi-Wan, Jaster, Arla and the Duke.

Myles, since he was Jango’s second in command and not part of the Mand’alor’s family, had been forced to sit with the few other Haat’ade not currently on patrol.

Almec and Lady Evas were close, but not enough to drag him in every conversation; he was more than happy to listen to Duke Kryze telling tales about the city in a way that entertained his padawan too.

It was clear that he liked children as much as the True Mandalorians, and he was good with them too. A true feat for a politician.

Yan was sure that whoever would stay behind in Sundari would have an easy life creating any kind of relationship for both the Order and the Republic.

That until they realized they were two different thing and pleasing the latter often meant disappointing the former. And likewise.

Oh well, that was a problem for a future jedi that won’t be him.

Now that they had been dismissed, Jaster had been called for some sort of meeting over something Death Watch did near the semi-official border between the two factions.

Yan had got away speaking about meditation for his padawan, putting so much Dai Bentu into the conversation as if it was Basic that he forced them to agree just to look like they understood him.

Why that meant Arla and Myles could leave too was beyond him, but he wasn’t going to protest.

They were walking back to Yan’s room - apparently, the Fett girl knew her way well enough to guide them - when Obi-Wan stopped so abruptly Myles almost walked into him, avoiding to actually harm him only twisting so bad he had to use the wall to keep upright.

The boy’s eyes were glassy, and he was trembling in a way too common manner.

Yan sighed, extending his shields to his padawan’s mind, and leaned against the opposite wall from Myles.

A light vision wasn’t so unexpected after a flash one. The New Mandalorians were even worse than the Haat’ade, their thoughts were shouted in the Force like they wanted to be heard.

At least in Keldabe beskar helmets helped muffling the volume, here there was nothing to act as a barrier.

And despite the aliit’alore’s opinions, rebalancing a child wasn’t so easy or quick as they may have hoped.

“Is he alright?”

“More or less. The best would be to keep visions at nighttime, but this seems like a light one.”

Yan was a bit tired of repeating himself but his goal was to form the mandalorian’s mind on seers before Yoda’s propaganda could poison them. As the first one, he couldn’t pass the chance to gain an ally on this front. And he wasn’t above using Obi-Wan’s cuteness and age to his advantage.

“How does…?”

Obi-Wan came back with half a scream, interrupted by a coughing fit. He hunched over, his whole body shaking, but his eyes where what made Yan stand straight.

The panic down their bond made his heart beat faster. The Force started to scream.

“Obi-Wan, how do you…?”

“Run!”

Before Yan could even think of obeying the order, his own question still halfway on his tongue, the wall on Myles’s side exploded.
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“Is there something even remotely edible on this ship?”

“Clandestines don’t get to be picky about food.”

“You let Nim have real food though.”

“Are you really protesting because your padawan is being treated well?”
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The explosion shook the whole building, the paintings and statues in Adona's office falling to the ground and shattering in pieces.

The shrieks of the women were so high even filtered by his buy’ce he flinched, taking away the hand already on his blaster out of instinct. Better to avoid accidental injuries.

“Report!”

No one responded. Not Arla, not his lieutenants.

“Myles! Glim! Akana! Report.”

Nothing.

Kark, they must have done something to the communications.

He turned to Adonai, the only one still standing of their little group “What was that?”

“I’m asking you that!” Screamed the duke.

“I can’t contact anyone, this is your home.”

His eyes were a bit too wide for him to be lucid, but he still patted his pockets looking for the comm. In vain.

“Seriously?!”

“I can’t find my comm!” Adonai was bordering on panic “Satine and Bo Katan. I need to find them!”

Kark.

“Do you have somewhere safe to be? Close to us, possibly.”

“There’s a panic room down the hall.” Cried one of the women, he still had no idea who she was or why she had followed them “But what if they are here!”

“It wasn’t that close. Just run there. I need to look for my verde.”

“No! The duke’s safety is more important.”

“Then go to that bloody room and close the door.”

Adonai moved past him without a word. He went to bookshelf and pressed one of the many decorations on it. With a barely audible click, a door opened in the wall.

Not a wall, a hidden cabinet. In it, his old beskar’gam.

It was clear he had not cared for it in a while, but it was better than anything. It could still give him some protection.

“Like haran you’re doing it.” They all turned to him but Jaster didn’t care “When was the last time you actually fight? The last time you trained even!”

“Once a verd, always a verd. Isn’t what keep telling me?”

“The spirit of a verd. You’re getting yourself killed the moment they see you. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“My daughters are in danger!”

“Dying won’t help them!” He screamed “Wear it for protection, but go in that bloody room. I can’t babysit you while Kyr’tsad is around.”

“I don’t need one!”

“I’m not above hitting you and dragging your ass there. I’m not leaving my people behind and I’m not getting accused of letting you die by that bastard of your first advisor.”

“We need to go!”

Jaster ignored the woman to glare at Adonai. They didn’t have the time for this!

Well, the jettise would surely mend any bridge he would destroy by punching him.

Before he could reach him to actually do it, a blaster bolt got through the door and both the women and Lord Noora screamed.

Pieces of wood flied everywhere and even if it meant nothing for his buy’ce, Jaster still took cover out of instinct.

Three verde entered, all with their blaster in hand; they looked young, the way they carried themselves spoke of arrogance and little experience, so he didn’t waste too much time in any kind of plan.

His blaster killed the first two in a matter of seconds, the last one dodged and moved not to him but towards the two women.

Jaster was too far away to stop him and no one was going to help him, but this was Kyr’tsad so he raised his weapon on them “Don’t move.”

“You are not in the position to demand thing, pretender.” He spat while moving his blaster in the air, never too far from the woman’s head.

“And you are? If you kill her, I kill you. The only way you have to get out alive is surrender.”

“I would rather die.”

I already knew that, Jaster kept that a thought but he had no problem believing it.

Brainwashed people were easy to predict. But he was so young, probably younger than Jango, he couldn’t not try.

The boy made a step forward, dragging the woman with him, but both forgot about the long skirt of her dress.

Jaster wasn’t sure which one of them tripped on it, but the distraction was what he needed to get a shot in.

Beskar’gam was wonderful, but not infallibile. It still left several vulnerable points that could be fatal against a skilled opponent.

Such as the neck, if you got the right angle.

He crumpled to the ground with a clinging sound, dead.

What a pity, the youth of Mandalore deserved better than this.

“Go to the panic room. Now.”

“I won’t…!”

Blaster set to stun, Jaster moved as fast as he could and shot him. Adonai fell against the bookshelf and he gestured for Lord Noora to come “Can you pick him up?”

The man was fit, it shouldn’t be a problem if the room was truly that close.

“Yes.”

“Then tell me where to go, I’ll go first and clear the way. Once we are there, lock the door and stay there. Understood?”

They all nodded, and he could see on their faces how lost they were. They wouldn’t disobey him, he was sure.

Jaster only had to hope not many Kyr’tsad were already between them and the room. He had to get in touch with his own people.
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She was starting to hate explosions.

Akana had worked hard to become an expert on explosive, after what happened to her buire it had felt like the right way to both avenge and remember them, and using her skills to disarm bombs had always made her proud of herself. Especially after the Mand’alor himself had asked her to be his expert on the matter.

But after the last month she was truly fed up.

How much of a coward you had to be to use explosive like this? Kyr’tsad truly had no honor.

They were waiting for the shift change when she heard at least three different explosions, and the comms went out with a static screech.

Jaster was with Kryze, which meant he was going to be in one of the hotspots. Hopefully he would sacrifice the new darmanda to save himself. Arla and Jango were good ade, but they weren’t ready to become Mand’alor.

“Akana!” Glim screamed her name, as if they weren’t in the same room “We need to find Jaster.”

“And Arla. The jetti and the boy too.” She stressed “We can’t loose them either.”

She wasn’t sure Dooku was fit enough to defend himself and Ob’ika, and she wasn’t going to let them die like this.

“They were going back to the rooms.” Nri chimed in “I’m not sure how long ago.”

“Ok, we’ll make two squad. Akana, go to Kryze’s office and look for Jaster. If you find others, send them back to the ship, we need somewhere to regroup.” Glim pointed to three of the verde with them “You are with me.”

“Leave Poella, she needs to fix the comms.” Akana gestured for her to get closer and threw her a chip “Go to the ship, it can work as a station for short distance communication. Change the frequencies. Hopefully they haven’t done too much damage.”

Poella nodded and immediately left, moving her short cape to hide the mythosaur skull on her yellow pauldron; her black, blue and unpainted armor was the perfect color to sneak between enemies.

Glim raised his fist “Let’s show these darmanda and demagolka what it really means to be a mando’ad!”

“Oya!” Everyone hit their fist on their chest plate and with that they left.

Akana took the lead of her squad, assigning each a task.

They were enough for her to have the only baar’ur in stand-by for any wounded they may encounter. They would give the priority to the Haat’ade - she was sure civilians were harmed too, but they didn’t have the time to tend to them while actively under attack.

She wasted only a moment to pray the Manda before she took both her blasters in hands and peeked over the corner, a blaster bolt flying over her head immediately after.

“Ferli! It’s us!”

The shots stopped “Akana?”

“Lek, verd. Don’t shoot, ok?” She once again showed her face, her buy’ce hiding her relief “Nice to see you alive, vod.”

Ferli’s arm was covered in blood, but the one holding the blaster was still firm. Wounded, but not too bad.

“Status?” She gestured for Cen-Jy, the baar’ur.

“Got a piece of wood through it, I have nothing to bandage it, but it’s manageable.” Ferli let them secure the wound, the bare minimum to get him to survive “What’s the plan?”

“Get to the ship. Help Poella in any way you can.”

“I can fight!”

“And you will, just not in front line.” Akana gripped his shoulder, but she waited until he nodded before asking “What about Der’vin?”

“Dead.”

“They will pay.” Growled Cen-Jy.

“Haat, jaa, haa’it.” Akana swore “Now go.”

She waited for him to disappear before moving. The hall they were in ended with a high window, half opened in the warm afternoon breeze.

The way the light hit the glass made it a perfect mirror and let her see the six Death Watch verde without betraying her position.

She signaled it, took a deep breath and bursted forth.

They would not see what they hit them.
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His ears were still ringing, but the unfiltered fear he could feel down their bond was enough to know what he needed.

Half of the external wall had collapsed under whatever type of bomb they had used, and three of the five staff members who had been with them were dead, the others either unconscious or disoriented.

There were seven figures standing in the opening, all in the blue and grey of Death Watch.

The central one had a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, pinning him against his hip effortlessly.

Oh. No. Not on his watch, not when he was less than five meters from them.

He stood, slowly enough to check his body for any new injury, and the pang of pain in his chest made him bite back a curse. That was either a broken rib or something worse.

But it didn’t matter, his physical sensations could wait until Obi-Wan was free and they were all somewhere safe.

The familiar ache of his leg still registered, so maybe his chest wasn’t as severe as he was thinking. He still pushed through and stood straight, finding the most stable position he could between the debris.

His focus narrowed on his padawan.

“Let him go, now!”

He put as much Force in the order as he could, even if the beskar of their armor would protect them from the suggestion.

The one who was probably the leader laughed, a cruel and icy sound that would have made anyone less controlled shiver. Yan had seen way too much to be intimidated by that.

“You are the one who killed my father.” He sneered, clenching his hold to the point Obi-Wan whined in pain.

Yan had no idea who he or his father were, but he had no problem ending a blood line if his padawan was at stake.

Myles cursed from his left and he dared to glance at him. He was still on the ground, probably under some type of debris, but he was glaring at the man with a hatred he had rarely seen.

Of the four Force signatures around him, the pantoran and Arla Fett were the only ones conscious. He was alone against seven Death Watch members.

“Vizsla!” Myles growled ”Are you really that much of a coward to use an adiik as a shield?”

“Shut up, you traitor. You choose to follow a false alor and you will die for it.” Vizsla grinned “You aren’t even worth of a shot.”

He made a signal and two of his squad raised a rifle. Both of them on Yan.

“This child will become ours. Don’t worry, he will grow up to a glorious future, helping us to restore Mandalore’s Old Ways! But first, he will see you die like a womp-rat on a ship.”

Obi-Wan whimpered again, screaming in the Force for him to help.

Yan sent all the peace-calm-be-brave-trust-me he could muster while concentrating.

He was injured, with no lightsaber and no allies ready to help him. But he was far from harmless or defenseless.

Vizsla made another hand sign and the two fired.

He raised a hand, palm open, and the bolts stopped midair, close enough to his skin that he felt their heat.

Even with the helmets on, he could feel their shock and surprise in the Force.

“Never touch the padawan.”

He was sure he didn’t need to finish the phrase for them to get their mistake, but as it was he was happy when fear replaced the surprise.

He closed the hand in a fist and the bolts ricocheted back, hitting both shooters in the throat. They fell on the ground, dead.

Before they could even react he moved his other hand, slowly raising it with his finger in a claw like position. The other four, who had just raised their blasters, all let them go when he raised them in the air, their attempts at getting free from his Force choke useless but rather endearing at the moment.

With a twist of his wrist, they all collapsed. Not dead, killing with the Force was frowned upon for a reason after all, but out of commission for the next several hours. A couple probably paralyzed for life. He didn't care.

Vizsla, the only one still standing, snarled. He backed a couple of steps, dragging Obi-Wan with him “Shabuir! You will pay for this!”

He took a cylinder from his belt, rising it over his head and igniting the blade at the same time. The humming of that crystal was so strong Yan almost faltered, but his padawan was the priority.

A lightsaber, may it be as peculiar as a black one, was still a lightsaber.

Yan moved quickly: he put both his elbows at his shoulder’s height, his palm open and facing each other, twenty centimeters apart. Then, he pushed them forward, one farther than the other to let them pass each other, and Vizsla’s scream rewarded him immediately.

He had enveloped the man’s sword arm with the Force, moving to break it as hard as possible - to the point he could see the bones poking out of flesh from where he was. The broken muscles and tendrils were way more than enough to make him drop the lightsaber, while the pain made him brought the other hand around the wound, in the vain attempt to stabilize it.

Now-run-come-here.

Obi-Wan reacted before he had even finished asking it, bolting toward him the second Vizsla let him go.

Happy to see him free, Yan refocused on finishing this stupid affair.

He slammed Vizsla against the wall on his right, hard, and then he brought him back in the centre and up against the ceiling, leaving it to the planet’s gravity to bring him down.

Once landed, the man didn’t move.

Obi-Wan hugged him at the hips, hiding his face in his tunics as always, and his focus re-centered on the boy.

The relief of physical touch was so great he didn't register the pain of it. Yan started to massage his back, gentle circular movements while he used the Force to scan him for any possible hidden injury.

Thankfully, he had avoided anything more serious than bruises and little scratches. The one on his forehead may require stitches, but it could wait.

He enveloped his padawan’s mind with his own, brushing against his shields to let him feel only calm and safety. They didn’t have too much time but he would gladly waste a couple seconds to settle him than risk a meltdown.

While he gave him that, he turned to the two haat’ade. The explosion brought them apart by several meters, and he didn't have the best angle to see their status but the little he could see wasn't promising.

“How are you?”

Despite being unrestricted, Arla was still on the ground. Her helmet was laying out of her reach but she had made no move to get. The left side of her face was covered in blood and the way she was both flinching and blinking very slowly gave him little hope on her condition.

She was most likely concussed, and a severe one at that.

Myles wasn't too far from her, and since he had spoken coherently to Vizsla Yan turned to him for an answer. He was still sitting though, meaning he must be stuck there in some way.

“Free me.” The pantoran huffed, his fists hitting the large debris out of frustration.

Not happy at being right, Yan ignored the tone and just did as asked.

Levitating that slab was probably the most appropriate use of the Force he had done since Galidraan, and he couldn’t help half a laugh at the thought.

“Can you walk?”

“Not like I have other options.” Myles was checking himself quite aptly, and he had to remind himself that they were warriors. They had training on how to handle themselves post battle.

“Arla?”

She didn’t answer but she was standing now, her hands holding her head like it could roll off any moment “Karking demagolka.”

Yan took a deep breath, releasing every emotion without a care. He needed a clear mind.

They needed to move. The hole in the wall left them without cover and they weren’t in the shape for a fight.

“Arla, listen to me. Do you think you can help Myles walk?”

It was their only chance.

“My eyes, it hurts.”

“Close them, he will guide you and you will keep him up.” Yan turned to the pantoran “Are you up to that?”

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

It took more than what he would have liked to get the Fett girl next to Myles and even more for him to get his arm around her shoulders in a functional way.

There were several force signatures incoming and he was almost sure they weren’t friendly.

Yan gave a last glance at the man who threatened Obi-Wan; whoever he was, he had a lightsaber. A very strange one, but a jedi weapon nonetheless.

It could be useful.

It would make him less defenseless.

It would be a way to protect himself and those with him.

He called it with the Force, glad that the crystal didn’t reject him immediately but hummed in acknowledgement. A pending verdict apparently.

Obi-Wan peeked at it, but he didn’t ask nor try to touch it. His hands were holding his tunic like they had since they landed there.

“We need to move, now.”

Myles grunted in pain but pointed to their left with his chin “That way. The plan is to regroup at the ship, it’s meant for battle.”

“Do you know the way?”

“Yeah. It’ll take a while.”

“I regret every decision that led me here.” Yan glanced at his cane, broken in half at his feet “Have the others called in?”

Unlike Arla, Myles had been wearing the helmet before the explosion. Maybe he could contact the others and get some...

“The comms are down.”

“Of course they are." he rolled his eyes "May the Force have mercy on us all.”
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Bail absent-mindedly touched his chest, his hand passing over the inner pocket he had stored Obi-Wan's letter in.

When he asked about the child as a way to make small conversation before the departure, the last thing he had expected Master Yoda to say was that Obi-Wan was already on Mandalore. The Grandmaster of the Order had giggled in calling it the will of the Force, but Bail had heard the underline tone of worry in his voice.

After all, now that he was safe it was easier to downplay the whole thing, even if he was sure Master Dooku would have a lot to say on the matter.

Bail had wondered about it quite a bit while trying to fall asleep in his cabin - hyperspace always messed up his sleep cycle - but after meeting Master Avaross and Padawan Pianna he was starting to believe that it was more due to them being Yan's lineage than being a jedi.

Since the man had been given senate duty - as he called it - Bail had learn a lot about the Order and how it worked. Hearing that both Yan's oldest and youngest padawan had sneaked on a ship to get to him made so much more sense now that he had almost laughed out loud when Master Nu had explained their 'clandestines'.

What he wouldn't have given to hear about Yan's missions as a padawan. Breha had tried to get some info by looking at planets' records, but while they mentioned his presence they left out all the details that would make it a worthy story.

He wondered if there would be a similar tale about his stay with the True Mandalorians.

If what they were doing would really build something or not.

A knock on his door broke him out of his musing and Bail quickly put his robe on to answer. He was still mostly dressed in his day clothes, but he wanted to at least look like he was calm and in control.

On the other side was Padawan Pianna, with a sheepish smile and a cup in her hand.

"How can I hep you? Did something happen?"

"No, Senator Aide Organa." she bowed her head, keeping the cup steady "I apologize for disturbing you but I... we could feel you were still awake and I thought you may like some chamomile tea?"

He had become versed enough in jedi-talking to know it meant 'we could feel you musing and felt bad for you, we want to help.'

"Yes, please." he took the cup, breathing the sweet scent of the tea before daring a sip. It was still too hot, but the heat was welcomed in the coldness of space.

"Thank you."

"If you need anything, may it be just some company, my master will be in the cockpit all night long and he's willing to chat." the girl made half a smile "More than willing."

"I thought he had been on call yesterday."

"He was. Master Nu decided he had to compensate for the days we spent hidden in the engine room."

Bail smiled openly at that. Jedi could be so petty, whoever said they were emotionless monks never spent a day with them.

"I will keep that in mind."

She bowed again, this time properly "Have a good night, Senator Aide."

"You too, Padawan Pianna."

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Yan turned the saber off just in time to avoid killing Jaster.

Bloody beskar with its force numbing quality.

The man looked fine, he wasn’t even dirty with the dust that completely covered them.

“What happened? Are you fine?”

“Do we look fine?” He snapped, hissing when his ribs protested.

The Mand’alor was with only one other ori’ramikad, a cerean woman should he had to guess, who unlike him wore the signs of the battle. She looked as done as he was with the whole thing.

“Arla?”

“She’s concussed, Myles has a broken leg, Obi-Wan is fine except for the cut.” Yan coughed, fighting to suppress it ”Can we keep going?”

“And you?”

“My ribs would appreciate Lar’Nai’s care.”

Between keeping up both his and Obi-Wan’s shields, keeping the pain in his chest and leg down to a manageable level, navigating the unfamiliar place, using the lightsaber while heavily limping and keeping an eye on the children, his patience and energy were diminishing fast.

The idea of a safe place with armed and trusted warriors to stand guard was heaven right now. Almost as good as sleeping for the next month.

Jaster’s face was hidden by his helmet but his worry was so strong he could still feel it.

“You didn’t meet anyone else?” Myles

“What?”

“It was either the ship or you, alor. No one else reached you?”

“they did, but he sent five verde to Kryze’s quarters, to protect the ade. Kryze put up such a fight he couldn’t resist.” Huffed the woman.

“I knocked him off, I had to. They’re ade!”

Yan leaned against the wall, half hidden behind the stump of a column “We don’t have the time to chat.”

“I do.” Jaster insisted ”Did you meet anyone?”

“Only Death Watch.” Myles was panting so badly even the mic caught it “And dead civilians.”

“Glim was supposed to get to you.” The woman said without looking at them, changing the energy pack of her blaster.

“I was wondering why no one caught up on us.” commented Yan, letting his head rest on the wall. If they were staying there he might as well get a bit relief from the cold stone.

“What?”

"We were being chased, but no one got us. I was hoping they got lost but if Glim is looking for us it makes sense.”

"Why didn't you...!"

Yan glanced at him, trying to see what made him stop speaking all together, but the Force didn't ping anything in particular around them.

Whatever made him shut up, it must have been in his helmet then.

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If the number of people they had to kill while looking for Arla and the jetti meant something, they were both going in the right direction and Death Watch were a lot more than what he had hoped.

As soon as this whole mess was over, Glim was going to bury himself in his room for half a month at least - he would aim for more but his aliit would never let him disappear for so long. He was so done.

“Anything from the scans?”

“Nyac.” Vam-Na shook her head “At this point…”

“We would have found the bodies.” Shri cut her off.

“Maybe they took them. They do take prisoners after all.”

Whatever demon had possessed him when he accepted to be an ver'alor owed him a lot of alcohol.

“We still need to…!” The high pitch of his comm made him wince, but his annoyance disappeared when Poella’s voice came out.

“Do you hear me?”

“Music for my ears, vod.” Akana greeted.

“It’s not stable, and it isn’t secure. Keep the chatting down as much as possible.” Poella still sounded stressed “I’ll monitor it, but it’s the best I can do right now.”

“It’s fine.” Glim tried to be reassuring, but there wasn’t time “Do an head count, then radio silence until we all get to the check point. Call for emergencies.”

He listened all the pair either confirm their status or report a death. Everyone but two of them reported, which took a weight off his chest.

Akana said she was caring for politics, their code for being with Kryze or his ade. Probably the Mand’alor redirected her to them, no way in hell she had done that on her own volition. Now if he would dignify them of…

“I’m fine, Myles, Arla, Dooku and Ob’ika are with me.”

Jaster’s voice was so good to hear Glim laughed, glad his mic was already silenced. Kyr’tsad didn’t win yet.

“Dooku crushed Vizsla earlier, he was out cold when we left. Keep an eye out for him." Myles chimed in, his voice pained “This could be over a lot faster if we get him.”

“Jate. Do that, but the priority is the checkpoint.” Jaster ordered “Now shut up and hurry. Whoever gets there first, start plan a counterattack. They will regret this.”

“Lek, alor.” They said as one voice.

Glim checked his blaster, the energy pack still half full, and readied himself.

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“You crushed Vizsla?”

Yan opened his eyes, forgetting about his controlled breathing to glare at Jaster “Who?”

“The one with the Darksaber.” Supplied Myles.

“The… this thing is called Darksaber?” He didn’t have energy to waste raising the hilt, but it was obviously in his hand and drew the attention to itself.

“How did you got that?!”

“Does it really matter? I just needed a weapon. And we need to go.”

Obi-Wan whined and he pressed himself against the wall and the back of his leg at the same time. He felt so withdrawn in the Force it actually hurt.

They were going to live into Healer Lya’s office for a long time after this was over.

“Four of them, coming from the left.”

To Jaster and the cerean woman’s credit, they both moved without questioning him.

Arla and Myles wobbled to find cover next to him and Yan moved away from the wall, getting in the start position of Makashi while making sure to shield Obi-Wan from anything that would come their way.

He didn’t light the darksaber yet - if it was famous enough to get a name then he didn’t want even more attention on himself.

Despite hating himself for it, Yan was thankful their enemies were so young their actions were clumsy at best; they were trained obviously, and well so, but their impulsiveness in everything betrayed their age. No seasoned warrior would run head first like that while invading someone else’s palace.

The first Kyr’tsad fell to Jaster’s blaster.

The other three got lucky enough to avoid instant death thanks to their armors, but one collapsed over a hit to their knee. Still, they kept shooting until a blaster bolt hit them in the throat.

”Retreat.” Ordered the cerean woman.

Yan obeyed without taking his eyes off of them, a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder to guide him - to make sure he was still there. To keep him behind himself.

He lit the darksaber, deflecting their bolt back at them without caring too much for his aim. The point was to cover the others, nothing else right now.

A shield, your lightsaber is meant to be, said Yoda’s voice in his mind.

Kill those who threaten your people, screamed the black crystal over the chaos around them.

His own crystal pulsed, yelling back in outrage. Its song was what he had been focusing since the bomb went off and what he used to drown out the other.

He could recognize that something was off, that a crystal was yes sentient but surely not to a degree it could literally talk, but now was not the moment to think about that. Every time he turned the lightsaber on it began talking but it was easy to drown it out, his fatigue useful in muddling its words.

Myles swore when Arla swayed, letting his blaster go to keep her upright, and then he started to speak in mando’a, one word at the time, his voice hard and curt.

Yan gently pushed Obi-Wan forward, reassuring him down the bond that he would follow right behind him. He had to be a shield and the boy needed to be behind him to not hinder him.

They all followed Jaster down the hall, hopefully not too far from the ship.

While Yan could feel it was close to their position, he had no way to say how long it would take to get to it; New Mandalorian architetture seemed to love levels after all, and he’d rather jump off the window than walk down Force knows how many flight of stair.

"We're almost there."

"Kark! Take cover!" the scream had them all plastered against the wall, trying to use the statues as shields.

There were five enemies in front of them and three more catching up to them.

They were surrounded.

He wasn't sure he had enough strength left to take care of all of them, and even if he had Yan couldn't think of a way to incapacitate all of them at the same time. They were beskar clad, which was quite the problem when he couldn't see them with his eyes.

He could deflect the five's bolts while the others took care of the three, but who would protect his back then? How he wished for the envoy to be there right now.

"Yan! Take down those five..."

One fell with a scream under the cerean's shot.

"... four there."

"The others will...!"

Jaster gripped his shoulder "I will stand right behind you. My beskar'gam will protect us both. But don't take too long."

It was the plan of a madman. It was pure madness.

It was their only option.

He took a deep breath and nodded, following Jaster's countdown to sprint up.

They stood in position, their backs almost touching. This time he tried to redirect the bolts back, concentrating despite the fog that was starting to cloud his mind.

The ori'ramikad also began shooting at them, speeding up the process.

Finally the last one fell and he lowered the darksaber.

He turned to see if Jaster needed help, just in time to see two more Kyr'tsad arriving, these ones armed with heavy weapon.

Who the hell brought a rocket launcher to a siege?!

Well, someone that had just launched one apparently.

Not even a breath later the Force screamed at him to turn. It was so loud he moved before he realized it, his instinct taking control over his mind.

Yan turned as fast as possible, and then time slowed.

He was standing in the middle of the hall, his left side to the rocket and his right one to the still alive soldier who took a last shot at him. The aim was so off that it would never hit Yan or Jaster. No, but it was perfectly aligned with the rocket.

Obi-Wan was right in front of him, he was crying, both aloud and in the Force, and he was terrified. A fear so strong it was paralyzing.

His padawan. His seven years old boy who was looking at him, trusting he would save him.

Without thinking, Yan moved past Jaster a moment before the shot and the rocket collided.

The explosion was so sudden and violent he was completely blinded, but he didn't need his eyes for this.

Keeping up the Force field didn't required anything else beyond his strength.

It felt like trying to stop the sea with his bare hand.

He could feel the heat burning his palms despite it being impossible. He felt the pain of those caught in the explosion, the agony of being burned alive ending after a few seconds but lingering in his mind.

He felt the push of the fire like a physical touch. A crushing pressure on his body.

But Yan gritted his teeth and kept pushing back.

He pushed until the resistance began diminishing, the explosion consuming itself in the now empty and scorched hall.

And when it finally ended he let the Force field collapse, and he did the same.

He was unconscious before he hit the ground.