I.

Satine has yet to let go of her hip, wrapped in his cloak laying down on the cave floor and biting her lip. She is pale from shock and blood loss. Blood covers her fingers, and as the minutes ticked by, she starts to look vaguely green.

"I'm injecting the antidote, Duchess." Obi-Wan waits for her to nod, and slowly pushes the needle into the purple, oozing bite on her left shin. He watches the liquid disappear, wincing while she lets out a whimper. "Force, I'm sorry."

The muscles in her leg begin to relax, and she lets out a harsh breath. "Thank you."

"The worst isn't over, I'm afraid. We ran out of bacta – I have to clean and stitch your wound up."

She glances down at the hip, blinking in what might have been surprise. "You know how to do that?"

"You're horribly confident in my abilities as a medic," Obi-Wan mutters, putting the syringe aside. He picks up the last of the cleaning wipes and rips open the package with his teeth.

"It's not a skill most people know."

"I'm not most people." Obi-Wan smirks at her snort. "How do you still manage to argue with me when you're close to shock?"

"Keeping a person engaged is the best way to prevent them from going into shock."

Obi-Wan hums in agreement, and reaches out a hand to grasp her wrist. "I have move your hand, okay?"

She lets out a hoarse laugh when he tugs the blood-soaked fabric away from her skin. "If you wanted to undress me you could have just – oh, haar-chak!"

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, having just started dabbing at the skin. He detests the pain on her face, but admires the way she refuses to whimper after her initial reaction.

"It'll be over soon." She doesn't really care that she is partially exposed - she is Mandalorian, after all. It would be strange to feel ashamed of her body. Besides - it's not like she plans on sleeping with him.

"I still need to stitch it up."

"Weren't you bit by the venom-mites too?"

"Don't worry about me, my dear."

"Mmm - where's," Satine clenches her teeth while he peels off the rest of the fabric sticking to her bloodied wound. "Where's Master Qui-Gon?"

"Picking up our last camp, I presume." Obi-Wan finishes cleaning the wound the best he can, and drops the soiled towelette back into the package. He gets into a more comfortable position, finding the needle package and opening it.

Satine presses her lips together when the needle pierces her skin, trying not to cry at the sheer agony of it. "How...did you learn...to sew wounds the old way?"

"My best friend, Bant - she taught me. Thought it might be useful skill to learn." Obi-Wan grins at her in the dimness. "Evidently it was worth my time."

"Mmm. Trust a woman's instincts."

He ties off a stitch and cuts it before beginning another. "You know - you're quite beautiful when you're not yelling at me."

Satine half-hopes her burning skin is a fever setting in and not a blush. "You're quite the flirt, Padawan Kenobi."

"Obi-Wan, Your Highness."

"Satine, Padawan Kenobi."

He looks at her, eyebrows quirked upwards. "Pleasure to meet you, Satine - come to Datoonine often?"

She laughs, the sound pleasant and a little raw while it echoes around the cave.


II.

When her son starts fussing and won't stop for hours, Satine thinks the worst. She wants to cancel all her meetings and appointments but...

Because Naboo is being invaded, and everyone in Sundari palace is staring at the screens, hoping for some piece of information.

She holds Korkie close, aware of the few nasty looks shot her way at his fussing. The battle wages for hours, the cameras zooming about the battle field, the feed crackling while the Nubian news channels tries to understand what is happening on the field and in the capital.

"There's a Jedi team on planet," Almec murmurs suddenly.

Satine glances up sharply, watching the two blurry lightsabers the cameras had picked up.

There.

She can just make out long hair and a green lightsaber, and a blue lightsaber, but nothing is distinct. But she knows those forms, knows how those two wield their lightsabers.

Korkie clings to her chest, quiet now but obviously upset. His little fists are fisted so tightly in her tunic they are nearly white.

"These are recordings" Satine mutters suddenly, feeling an odd sense of foreboding come over her.

"Security footage, ma'am," a cleaning lady murmurs.

She nods, staring at the screens. When the Nubians win, everybody cheers and hugs each other. Naboo is one of Mandalore's longest and closet allies, and to lose them to the Trade Federation…

Satine doesn't even want to think about them. The casualties and deaths are beginning to come through, and people are quieting, darting to their own chambers call friends and relatives.

She holds her breath, hoping, praying that her son still has a father.

Almec takes a transmission from a Nubian palace aid, relief in his exhausted voice. "Yes, we'll send aid - yes, of course - tell, Queen Amidala she should except it within a few days - no, no problem - yes - Duchess?"

Satine smooths a hand over her son's head while she glances at her Prime Minister. She is one of the few people left in the chamber. "Hmm?"

"Please head to bed. You look exhausted."

She nods numbly, standing and waving away the nurse' offer of help. The halls are empty while she walks, holding Korkie close, thankful his eyes were beginning to droop. "You're gonna fuss all of tomorrow, aren't you?"

Korkie's fists relax on her tunics, and she smiles, climbing the stairs that lead to her chambers with ease. A year ago, she hadn't even known how to carry a child.

How circumstance changes everything.

A guard smiles at them while she palms open the door of her chambers. "Your comlink's been chiming for the past hour, m'lady. You must have the volume on high - I could hear it from out here."

"Oh? How odd. Thank you for informing me."

The door slides shut, and she lets out a sigh of relief - for about two minutes. Korkie wakes up and refuses to calm down, fussing and inconsolable. Dressed in only her shift, she holds him and paces, trying desperately to get him to sleep.

That was not something she had been prepared for when she gave birth. The Force sensitive part, where he could sense her emotions and become upset far too easily. Obi-Wan was always able to calm him, but he couldn't be in Sundari all the time.

He could be, a little voice whispers in her head just when her comlink shrills a familiar tone.

"Please stop crying," Satine begs, managing to hold him on her hip while answering the comlink. "Ben!"

"Satine I-" Obi-Wan stops, bags under his eyes and a frown deepening on his face. His posture is slumped, and he sits on what looks an overly plush bed. "What's wrong with Korkie?"

"He won't sleep - he's barely - " Satine halts at the sudden quiet, watching Korkie sniff and turn his face toward the holo. She presses her lips together, watching their young son reach forward. His small hands pass through the holo while he tries to hug his father, utterly confused as to why he can't reach him.

Obi-Wan looks on, trying to smile and ignoring the tears coming down his face. "Keeping your mother awake, Korkie? She has a system to rule, you know."

"Dada," Korkie mutters, his little brow furrowing. "Da."

"Has he...is that his first word?" Obi-Wan begins before she nods her head. He lets out a small laugh. "I miss you too."

"Obi-Wan, what happened on Naboo? I saw your lightsaber and-"

"Qui-Gon's dead, Satine."

She blinks, holding Korkie a bit tighter while she sits on the glider. He squawks, positioning himself until he can comfortably watch his father. "How?"

Obi-Wan takes a shaky breath before beginning the tale. She knows he skips over a few parts - what happened on the ship on Tatooine, the fight that ended Qui-Gon's life, how he felt about Anakin…

Anakin. A slave-boy that's now a padawan. From one oppressive life to another. Poor boy.

But she keeps her thoughts to herself, and Obi-Wan doesn't comment. Korkie keeps nodding off, only to jerk awake and refocus on his father, trying to reach out and touch the holo every now and then.

"I don't know how often I'll be able to be on Mandalore now, my dear," Obi-Wan says when the Kalevala sun is beginning to rise and Korkie is fast asleep. "With Anakin-"

"You have a young son in Sundari and a padawan on Coruscant," Satine murmuers, her voice sharp. "You have to decide where your commitments lie, Obi-Wan. I will not force your decision anymore than I will support one - do I make myself clear?"

Obi-Wan bows his head a moment. "Of course, Satine."


III.

"Obi! You're - what all this?" Satine asks, hearing the door slide shut behind her. She examines the dim sitting room, lit only by candles and the glow from the fish tank. There are platters of food on laid out on the caf table, two glasses of wine, and a very full bottle of wine.

Obi-Wan shrugs, finishing lighting the last candle before looking at her. He looks a little worse for wear, but looked cheerful enough - even if one his wrists is in a medical brace and his beard is a bit overgrown. "Surely you haven't forgotten what this week is, darling?"

She hadn't, but banter is something they seemed to have forgotten in recent years. The stress of ruling a system and the war had left little time for them to enjoy each other. Feeling her shoulders begin to relax, she walks to him and grasps his outstretched hand. "I suppose you'll have to remind me, my dear."

The candlelight catches the mischievous glint in his eyes. He tugs her close and pressed a light kiss to her lips. "Happy Festival of Stars, Satine."

"You did all this?" Satine asks, allowing herself to be seated on the plush sofa. Her eyes light up when she saw the Corellian chocolates that have been rarely available, with the war and all. "You managed to take the week off from the Order? Like everyone else in the Galaxy?"

"There aren't many people in the Temple, to be perfectly honest. Most are visiting loved ones - and don't fret, my dear. I did not cook any of this." Obi-Wan sits, using the Force to call the wine bottle to him. He grins at her snort, uncorking the bottle with ease. "The kitchen staff was more than willing to aid me."

It's strange, to take the evening and focus on nothing but each other. It's a simple pleasure, eating a meal with her cyar'ika. She wonders how many people take it for granted, coming home to their families every day.

What was the old adage her father used to say?

Alit ori'shya tal'din. Family is more than blood.

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked softly, tracing her arm.

She purses her lips, staring at the wine glass in hand. How many glasses had she drunk?

Obi-Wan frowns, setting the wine glass on the caf table. "Satine?"

She sets her own glass down, shifting to face him. The woman in her can't help but notice the way Obi-Wan looked at her, blue eyes filled with concern and love. Or how he kept a hand on her thigh, fingers grazing moving the fabric of her skirt.

How different this moment was from so many years ago. They had never hid their love - unlike some friends of theirs - but circumstances for them had always been different. Duty and Korkie came before love. Simple. Easy? No.

But their moments had always been stolen, in ship bunks and burrowed apartments, during nights to short and mornings filled with hushed moans and little believed promises.

It seemed so...normal, sharing a quiet meal at her Jedi lover, knowing their son would be coming home tomorrow, and the Galaxy might breathe a little for the festival week.

Both of them pretending this would last forever.

Obi-Wan sighs, fingers moving over her cheek and titling her chin up to meet his gaze. "Focus on the present, my dear."

Satine closes her eyes, feeling him wipe away the tears that had begun to trickle down her face. A small smile crosses her face.

How he always knew what she was thinking is beyond her.

"It's a Jedi thing."


IV.

When the capital city of Jedha is destroyed, Korkie stumbles, putting his hand against the wall and feeling vaguely ill. He is thankfully alone in the Sundari Palace, and holds his head, trying to determine what happened.

He won't find out until that night.

When the base at Scarif is hit, part of the Mandalorian fleet is landing in the Rebel base. He gets dizzy, ill, and his vision goes dark for a moment while he's unbuckling himself from the co-pilot's seat.

He learns pretty quickly what has happened.

When Alderaan is destroyed, it feels like a knife to the gut. The sheer agony and terror of millions of souls screaming makes him cry out as well, burying his head in his hands while everyone shouts and stares at the monitors, trying and failing to get a signal through.

He can faintly hear General Hera muttering, someone helping her stand, but he cannot focus on that.

He can only focus on the pain, the desperate, foolish hope that somebody from his past wasn't on planet.

A hand squeezes his shoulder.

"Deep breaths, kid. Deep breaths."

Korkie nods, trying to let air into his tight chest and letting it out slowly. "Thought you...hated me."

Rex gives a hoarse laugh. "Hate the son of one of my Generals? Never."


Mando'a words

Haar'chak - damn it


Author's note: so since I'm starting college again on Tuesday, except a few updates on my fics. I wanted to get as much written as I can before my life is taken over by classwork

But nevertheless - I'll smile innocently while you guys read through this chapter. (Do you know how many WIPS I have for this series?! It's insane).

Toodles!

ii Digestive Reader ii