Chapter Text
It was later that evening when Satine discovered Qui-Gon in the cockpit, staring at an open holomap of the stars as he studied every planet with idyllic curiosity. As he noticed her tentatively approach, a look of unease passed across his face, but he removed it as quickly as it came. Already this situation was proving to be an awkward one, but what else was Satine to expect? Really, the only reaction worse than discomfort was anger, and truly she wondered if that was what about was experience.
A feeling that only grew worse as Jinn crossed his cloaked arms. “Are you looking for Obi-Wan?”
“My father always had this saying, that trouble was like an Alamite. It doesn’t matter how fast you run, eventually it will find you. The only way to deal with it is by staring it in the eyes.”
Qui-Gon let himself laugh, before slowly relaxing his posture. “Lady Kryze, I am very aware of the particularly large bantha charging though the shuttle,” he replied. “Truly, I do not wish to embarrass you or seem as though I am questioning your personal decisions, but you are under my care, and it is not a position I take lightly.”
“I didn’t intend for you to find out about the situation this way, Master Jinn. You have become an important part of my life, and perhaps we thought you wouldn’t understand the nature of our…arrangement,” she uttered. “Both you and Jerec have been more of a father to me than the one that gave me my own name, and the thought of disrespecting you—it saddens me.”
He looked down, and his heart warmed in a way he knew he shouldn’t allow. Maybe it was poetry, both he and his apprentice were connected to this young Mandalorian in ways neither of them expected.
In ways neither could allow.
“Satine,” he began gently, “Although you must realise, I am conflicted, but I do understand. Obi-Wan is headstrong and often assumes he can handle things by himself. Much like his Master.”
“I doubt you’re alike in that sense,” she mumbled, leaving one side of Jinn’s mouth to tug upwards into a knowing smirk. Although the thought amused him, he couldn’t ignore the anger that radiated from the girl as she sat in the copilot chair, twirling a strand of hair around her finger in a way that was somewhat agitated. “I encourage you silence me should this question be inappropriate, but Obi was concerned that you would reassign him. Is that true?”
Although he knew that the answer wouldn’t give her the comfort she needed, Jinn let out a sigh. After all, he respected her far too much to lie. “There is no better distraction for a Padawan than an extended mission.”
“Like this one,” Satine realised, a strange feeling overcoming her. It couldn’t be possible there were here because of a similar situation, could it? Qui-Gon was a trusted Jedi, one with many talents, but Satine couldn’t help thinking the council would have preferred to have put her under the care of someone like…like Master Tholme. Not that Jinn wasn’t capable, but he was a diplomat, not the clandestine operative Obi-Wan had frequently gushed about.
Qui-Gon leaned forward, sensing her inner disturbance. “Satine—if there is something on your mind…”
“The saying is that the Jedi cannot love,” she blurted.
“To love is to show empathy and compassion, but to act out of love…”
Satine allowed herself to nod, not really sure if she understood.
“As long as I am able, I remain as an impartial ear in your life,” he responded. “But if you wish to discuss how Obi-Wan…feels…I sense he would be a better person to provide insight.”
“I don’t wish for any insight from Kenobi,” she scoffed, “My planet comes first. As does his duty. That is the way it was meant to be.”
Although she delivered it cooly, it was obvious to Qui-Gon it was herself that she was trying to convince.
As Satine excused herself and walked out of the cockpit, she made her way down the tiny corridor and almost bumped into the last person on the entire planet that she wished to see, as he dropped down from the air vent, clutching several tools in his hands. An array of emotions passed across his eyes, fear, concern, relief, and maybe even amusement.
And that, right there, almost made her wish she wasn’t a pacifist.
“Whatever you wish to say, now is not the time.” She gave him a tight smile as she squeezed past, walking towards the sanctity of their shared quarters. “Although you should probably apologise to Qui-Gon. I think we have put him in a terrible predicament.”
“That’s my expertise I’m afraid,” he snickered, but he faltered as she didn’t share his moment of humour. “…Are you alright?”
“I heard,” she announced, lifting her chin defiantly, “The conversation you had outside. Truly, I am thankful you finally pulled your lightsaber from your behind and spoke to Qui-Gon, although a pity he had to force the truth out of you.”
Kenobi blanched. “The truth?”
“Every honest word,” she replied, before gritting her teeth.
“No, Satine, you have to understand that I didn’t mean what I said,” he spoke hastily. “If he found out the truth, he would never allow us to see each other again.”
“Oh, do spare me.” Satine scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Besides, I thought you could sense lies with the Force.”
“Well—I…” He groaned. “From a certain point of view, we—”
“I understand. Try not to strain yourself.” She breezed past him, opening her door and settling into the small room as he appeared in the doorway, not daring to step inside, despite the fact that half of it was also his.
“Please just let me explain,” he grumbled.
“Perhaps some other time, Padawan.” She looked up as she hovered her hand over the door button. “It seems I don’t require your charitable entertainment this evening, as I am no longer bored.”
And with that, she closed the door and climbed into her bunk alone.
**
Week Twenty-Two, Day 157
Satine quickly learned that when Kenobi and Master Jinn were working nicely, the wisest course of action was to stay firmly out of their way. This meant she mostly spent her days watching old recorded holo’s, learning how to rewire electricals, making sure her companions took suitable breaks, and staying under the radar as per instructed. Every day was at least more predictable than the last, but it still came with its moments of uncertainty.
Such as the knock that came from the cockpit door.
Satine placed down her hairgrips, spinning in the copilot as Obi-Wan peered around the frame as frostily as ever. “I have to pick up a new transmission from the town, do you wish to come?”
“With you?” Satine asked, her brow immediately creasing. They hadn’t exactly been the best of friends lately, in fact they seemed to be playing the game of who could ignore the other thr best, and she couldn’t help feeling this was some kind of trick.
Realising she thought exactly that, Kenobi crossed his arms. “Qui-Gon said it would be fine,” he replied.
“And no doubt you disagree,” Satine retorted, flashing her blue orbs at him and reaching for her boots she’d kicked off under the panel. “Well, if you’re here to convince me to stay, it will not work.”
“That’s reassuring,” he grumbled with as roll of his eyes. “But luckily for you, this was my suggestion.”
He smugly watched as the surprise registered across Satine’s face, before he pulled her cloak from the back of the door. The surprise quickly turned to suspicion as he held it out for her, but still she stood and turned around, letting him drape it across her shoulders. “If this is some kind of endeavour to find yourself back in my good graces—”
“If only everything was about you, Your Highness,” he snapped back, using the Force to pull her hood over her head theatrically. “Let’s just go and get back in one piece, shall we?”
As they silently walked into the spare parts shop by the shipyard, unbridled relief washed over Obi-Wan as he noted it wasn’t too busy at this time of day. This part of the outpost had an endless supply of parts and nicknacks, although it was hard to say where they had all come from. Part him thought it was better not to ask.
“What exactly are we looking for?” Satine asked, ferreting through a basket full of spare parts, not that she knew what any of them were.
He handed her the list written out on scrap flimsi. “Enough parts to fix the shuttle so we can safely orbit without the fear of being vaporised into oblivion. Granted, Qui-Gon seems to think it’s possible, although I’m not so sure.”
“Charming,” Satine replied, handing it back, “Although anything is possible, should the Force will it.”
Kenobi glanced up at her as she met his eyes with laugh that she couldn’t even try to hold back.
“Six months ago, I would have doubted, perhaps even claimed the Force was a lie, but maybe not everything is down to luck,” she explained. “If the Force dictates the path, what is the point in fighting our fates?”
“Be careful Cyar’ika, if you carry on, Jinn may wish to take you as an apprentice instead,” he muttered.
“Please, you have to stop assuming he’s out to replace you,” she scorned, moving on to another basket.
“Do I?” he questioned. “Never mistake his silence for approval. In fact, if anything, he’s quite proficient when it comes to the silent treatment.”
“Oh look, yet another thing you have in common,” Satine responded with a scoff. “I understand your concerns, Obi-Wan. But you’re a broken holo, and I’m growing tired of the tune.”
Kenobi felt himself frown. “I’m not ignoring you. I’m just aware you value your space. And…perhaps I’m hoping you’ll grow bored enough to deliberate a treaty.”
Satine clicked her tongue, although she couldn’t help a smile growing across her face. “You have had too much time with nothing but your own thoughts as company.”
“Perhaps that is the problem,” he admitted quietly. “For the last few months, I’ve found myself questioning now more than ever who I would be, should I have not been found by the Order.”
“Whether you had been taken or not, I think you would have still been you,” Satine replied, nudging his arm lightly with the tip of her finger. “No matter how much you are nurtured, you cannot change the spots on a loth cat. Surely if nurture was the most important factor, every Jedi in the Order would be the same.”
“You most have definitely spent too much time around Qui-Gon,” he countered, pulling a few parts from the shelf.
“And you have spent too little,” she countered. “Perhaps you would trust one another more if you allowed a sense of vulnerability.”
It was with that Obi-Wan went quiet, and he gave the list back to Satine as he went to pay for the parts, leaving her to wonder if she had, once again, crossed the obvious line.
Once they had left the shop, Obi-Wan was still unusually broody. Still, it was something she had time to dwell on as a prickling feeling began to creep up her neck whilst she gazed around the sandstone walls. The street was suddenly busy, and several ships that were landing threw up clouds of dust in the air, making it difficult to see. Not so difficult though, that the Duchess reached for Kenobi’s arm, registering a sheet of flimsi pinned to the wall in front of them. It read:
WANTED: SATINE KRYZE
“Obi,” she whispered quietly.
He arched his eyebrow, gripping her hand as he tugged her hood further over her head. “Don’t make any sudden moves.”
“That wasn’t there earlier, I’m sure of it,” she murmured, a horrible, sickly feeling churning in her stomach.
Obi-Wan audibly swallowed, so loud even Satine could hear. “As am I,” he muttered in response.
“I don’t like that look, Jetii,” Satine whispered, reacting to his uneasy posture as she squeezed his hand that was already holding hers so tightly, she was losing all sensation.
He glanced her way, “When I tell to run, will you?”
“I have this terrible quirk you see,” she mumbled, trying her best to hide a jolt of fear striking her body, “I’ve never been very good at doing as I’m told.”
He squeezed her hand again reassuringly as he pulled her around the corner and down another dusty alley way, holding her close. “Here, over the wall,” he spoke. “I’ll use the Force to get you higher.”
Satine followed behind as he bolted towards their escape, before he came skidding to a stop as they made it to the wall. Connecting with the Force, he jumped high with a twist, landing on the edge as he looked at their surroundings, before pulling Satine to safety. He steeled himself as he caught sight of three mercenaries standing on the other side, and the other two rounding the corner where they had just come from.
“Obi,” Satine shouted, stumbling backwards to place her back against the mortar. Maybe it wasn’t the safest of plans, but he reached out to the Force, pushing her onto someone else’s window ledge.
He took hold of his lightsaber as he remained in a low crouch. “I think that is close enough,” he warned.
He was quite aware he was outnumbered heavily, five to one to be specific. Although he could be a little arrogant, he wasn’t stupid enough to think he could take them all. But as he stared them down, looking at the weapons that were doubt were set to kill, a stab of rage shot through him as he tightened his fingers around the hilt his lightsaber, deciding to try anyway.
“Jedi,” a bounty hunter wearing beskar stepped forward, drawing a blaster. “Let’s say we discuss this man to man.”
“If you care to point me towards one, I’d be happy to,” he retorted.
The bounty hunter altered his helmet. “Here’s some words of wisdom for you kid: No woman is worth dying for.”
“Oh? Have you ever met a woman?” Kenobi scoffed, dragging his eyes down his form. “No offence.”
“Kenobi,” Satine hissed.
“Oh, I see, you like her,” he laughed, eliciting a taunting laugh from his entourage. “The Jedi is infatuated by the princess. How poetic.”
“Duchess,” he corrected, igniting his blade. “And I’m no Jedi. Not yet.”
Taking that as his cue, the bounty hunter opened fire, aiming at Obi-Wan, and a barrage of shots rained upon them. He deflected the bolts aimed at himself and Satine, concentrating on either side as they advanced closer and closer.
The armour made it virtually impossible to fight back and as they got within range, Obi-Wan grabbed Satine’s wrist, pulling her closer. “Hold on,” he shouted, leaping higher onto the roof as she gripped desperately around his neck. They quickly landed on the tiles with an ‘oof’, and just as Obi-Wan thought they were making headway, he felt himself groan as two of the bounty hunters flew in the air, landing in front of them.
“Jetpacks?” Kenobi demanded, “When did they get those?”
He clambered to his feet as blaster bolts began to fire in their direction again, and he unclipped his comm with his spare hand before throwing it towards where Satine was standing.
“What do want me to do?” she shouted, squeaking as a bolt narrowly missed her.
“What do you think?” he snapped, reaching out to the Force and pushing one of the assailants off the roof. “Call for help!”
Satine let out of noise of frustration as she tried to fiddle with the buttons, and as she raised it to her lips, she caught of glint of something in the sky as another assailant flew above. “Obi!” she screamed.
It all happened too quickly. Obi-Wan stumbled to his feet as he tackled Satine off the roof, her screams piercing his ear drums as they fell to the ground. Just in time, he reached out to the Force, slowing their assent as they landed in a pile, Kenobi’s head bouncing off the rocky ground. His eyes were fuzzy, and his head was spinning, but not so much so he didn’t notice the explosion rip through the air, sending a cloud of dust their way.
With that, a new barrage of fire exploded around them as Kenobi stood and took off at speed, dragging Satine along with him. They ran through the streets as they dodged the crowds, speeding away from where the assailants gave chase.
He pointed to the shipyard. “There!”
Apparently, the commotion was causing quite the scene, as the second they were in view, Qui-Gon came rushing out, lightsaber in hand as he took on a defensive position. “Get Satine onboard,” he shouted, just as another assailant flew over.
“No!” Kenobi argued, reaching out to the Force to push barrels in the way of the assailants.
“Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon warned, but he wasn’t listening.
As if in slow motion, he deactivated his lightsaber as he flew into the air, wrapping his body around a Mandalorian whilst they twisted around into a spiral and landed on the floor, his helmet rolling across the sand. The man rose first, his weapon at the ready, but Kenobi kicked it from his hand, throwing a punch to his jaw again and again and again.
Although he was mildly dazed, he certainly wasn’t ready to backdown, and rage filled the young Jedi as he held out his hand and pushed a fuel tank up towards the sky. In a desperate attempt for some sense of control, he threw his lightsaber in the air, piercing the barrel as flames fell around them, engulfing the entire shipyard in dangerous heat.
Alarms were ringing across the town, and their small shuttle whirled as it attempted to take off to escape the sea of deadly flames. But just as Kenobi turned to jump onto the ramp, a hand took hold of his arm, and just like that, an elbow met his nose, knocking him out cold.