*A/N: Hello boys, girls and everyone in between. Starting in this chapter, there is reference to the three main claims for dominance in the Mandalorian Civil War. New Mandalorians, known as the pacifists, are the faction led by Duchess Satine. Her father, Duke Adonai aligned with the True Mandalorians, whose aim served as more of a middle ground in comparison to Kyr'tsad (Death Society), the true warrior romanticists, once led by the vicious and deceptive Tor Vizsla. Anyway, I hope you are enjoying this story so far. Nearly half-way through. Please R&R. Thanks so much. -Nikki

The constant mobility of their political expedition seemed to lessen the collective anxiety in the two Jedi. After boarding the Anomalous, Master Jinn quickly conferred with the Duchess about her first desired destination. She settled on Shukut, quickly dismissing herself to pore over the shuttle bay footage in hopes of catching their culprit.

Qui-Gon was thankful for the moment to pore over on-board contingencies with his padawan. The older man couldn't verbalize his own frustration, yet that did not banish it from his thoughts. It was the first confirmed move against the Duchess since their arrival and it had occurred on their doorstep.

Master Jinn never believed himself a proud man, but he was aware of his own capabilities and still a threat had maneuvered around them. It had been both a direct attack and a distant one. This opposition operated randomly, from afar and despite his tireless effort, he could not grasp at shadows. There was something he was missing, and the blind-spot of his vision lined his thoughts with tension. The only true reassurance he found (beyond prepping and planting their emergency gear) was memorizing their next move should they be caught off guard. After all these months of unease, he refused to be surprised again. Once all responsibilities had been managed, the master hoped clarity might come with self-reflection.

Obi-wan was thankful to be dismissed so his master could meditate. He came upon Duchess Satine zipping through a stream of footage. She appeared to have started sometime the night before the explosion, he gauged, noticing the time stamp of 03:26. "Nothing so far?"

Satine looked up and shook her head. "No; I can't imagine it having been planted more than a day in advance. Even if it had no power signature, it would've been caught on one of our physical sweeps."

Obi-wan nodded and subtly sat down beside her. "I could probably be of some assistance." She turned and a curious expression filled her eyes. "If you don't mind?" He quickly identified the exhaustion in them as she uncharacteristically shrugged.

Satine sighed, feeling the weight of her eyelids. "Please, I should be grateful to speed the process up."

Obi-wan gave her a small twitch that doubled as a smirk, before he sped up the footage. "What are you doing? That's too fast. You won't see it." She warned.

He closed his eyes and reached his hand out, placing his intention on their culprit, on the consequences of their deeds, the goals of their insurgency. "Perhaps, not the way most might see it." Obi-wan could feel her gaze searing through him. There was a question burning in her thoughts and he knew it was meant for him. "Is there something you wanted to ask?" He could sense her shaking her head incredulously.

"I refuse to even contemplate diverting your focus any further, as my eyes cannot adequately track the footage anymore."

Obi-wan smirked, his closed eyes crinkling slightly. "Are you wary of distracting me?"

Satine gave a low chuckle that resembled a scoff. "I'm worried of you distracting yourself."

"That hardly sounds like a claim of faith in your Jedi protectors." His voice teased.

"Well, this hardly seems like the way to examine footage."

"What did you want to ask?" He pushed, feeling her own hesitance.

Satine sighed. "It had to do with something Master Jinn asked back in my quarters."

"What was it?" Suddenly, like a shadow ripping across the back of his eyelids, he found their culprit. He stopped the footage and opened his eyes.

The relevant portion of recording lasted approximately 15 seconds. A fully armored Mandalorian female placed the charge and quickly escaped. Satine noted the time as well as the equipment of a jetpack and beskar helmet and armor.

Obi-wan sighed. "No positive I.D., but this one seems pretty efficient, stealthy." It now seemed inarguable that the true opposition was Mandalorian; how ever many that might be. "That's not much to go off of." He sensed the keen attention behind her silence as she watched the clip a few more times. It seemed as if she was searching for anything recognizable. He remembered his earlier inquiry. "What was it that you wanted to ask?"

Satine's crystal eyes followed the screen still. "Can you truly read a person's intentions?" A melancholy wistfulness led her tone as her irises briefly darted towards him from underneath her lashes.

Her wondered after her curiosity but did his best to answer truthfully. "Not always, but for such an act, an imprint might be left behind. Some beings possess stronger mental shields, but hatred is a stench that is not easily hidden."

"I envy you that ability." Her voice was soft under her breath, before she cleared her throat, confidently elaborating. "It would definitely come in handy within a political arena. So many are all too compelling, parading in seemingly agreeable façades, while their intention is purely poison."

Obi-wan turned his head, watching her closely, attempted to bring attention to her own mask. "Does such pessimism serve ideals of pacifism?"

Satine turned back to him with guarded eyes. "No, but prudence does. I don't have the luxury of efficient and immediate understanding. It's not the simplest task to keep your eyes on everyone at all times, so I take note of actions, until they support theorized intentions."

"Advisor Shreen?" He reminded with a blunt tone.

She narrowed her eyes. "Yes, like Advisor Shreen and at least another dozen more who have no qualms about polluting our cause with petty instigations. If I cannot silence such behavior within my own cabinet, how am I to cease Mandalore's thirst for violence?" She sighed, shaking her head while turning back to the frozen footage. "The smallest disservice to our principles risks the credibility of our convictions. We cannot allow ourselves to be corrupted by the romanticized cruelty of our predecessors." Satine was sure diplomacy could succeed with true discipline; she refused to believe otherwise.

"Your commentary of the True Mandalorians?" Obi asked, unable to refrain from indulging himself in his desire to better comprehend the leader of Mandalore.

Satine subtly tilted her head in a way that was emulous of a shrug. "It's true that I couldn't soldier on the tradition of my clan, but sometimes I am wary of the worst, falling back to the extreme. While the True Mandalorians didn't necessarily possess the desideratum to seek the full ambit of pacifism, their opposition, Kyr'tsad, positively lusted for violence."

"What happened to them?" Obi-wan felt compelled to understand the restless anxiety he could just barely hear touching her words.

"Ba'slan shev'la." She sighed before looking back at him. "Strategic disappearance." The unease didn't leave her cadence. "Their forces depleted, they vanished with a vague threat to return." She shook her head. "Further persisting in their insistence that concession, as well as peace is unacceptable and shameful amongst our kind." Satine looked around the interior of the Anomalous. "I guess in some way, I too am guilty of such a tactic." She exhaled sharply with decisive perseverance. "Only the New Mandalorians have not lost yet. An attack on me will not kill our principles."

"But a successful attempt would surely cripple your regime." The words sounded more critical than Obi-wan had meant, still he wasn't able to silence the warning that laced his tone. It seemed an immense amount of diplomacy was spent on keeping her own faction in line and it almost irritated him to hear the pride of her dedication overshadow her own need for preservation. Undoubtedly, the padawan knew that her loss would be greatly felt.

Satine eyed him attentively and refrained from smirking when she noticed bashfulness peeking through his expression at her steely focus. "Just as blasterfire," She gently tapped his torso. "Through your chest might impede your own intended purpose." Satine felt vulnerable at the immediate beat of his heart and quickly pulled away, her eyes refusing to yield the ground of her reasoning. "Yet, you still take on dangerous missions with little regard for your own safety. Why is that?"

Obi-wan felt exposed in her sight, ignoring the sudden warmth in his blood as he conjured a notion he'd often heard at the Jedi Temple back on Coruscant. "Change often comes at a price."

"Who possesses the right to demand such a cost?" She shut off the holoprojection and stood with a stretch.

Obi-wan stood, calming the defense in his voice. "Real change doesn't come from demands, but offerings. So, I offer my life to a cause."

"As do I, Padawan Kenobi." Satine risked the title to further illustrate her point of the respective vows they made to their callings. "Sometimes one is asked to dedicate themself in the service of something and other times one must spearhead such causes. If the latter, there is no choice but to lead by example."

"Are you so blameless in your pacifism?" It wasn't meant to provoke her; the genuine curiosity in his voice made it impossible to misinterpret his inquiry. Something passed behind her eyes and Obi-wan could sense not merely guilt, but regret.

"I encourage growth, not perfection." Satine echoed earlier sentiments. "It's not conducive for progress if we simply seek to place blame." Her gaze fell back to him and the intimacy of her words captured the padawan's attention. "More conviction can be found in bearing the burden of accountability." She turned away, longing to sleep, the events of the day and her own past mistakes piling on top of her already diminished sleep schedule to entice a heavy weariness she had never experienced before. "I am not without fault," She looked back. "But I am without malicious intent. That much consideration alone, could prevent my people from relentlessly insuring our own extinction."

"Will that be enough?"

"For now, it has to be."

Something in the monarch's tone tugged at his attention; for the first time, he could identify the backbone in her resolute cadence as desperation. Even in the utter chaos that had erupted within a singular cycle, she had navigated her beliefs with such willful focus that there was room for little else to occupy her mind. In his eyes, it was as though she refused to acknowledge the possibility of an unwelcome outcome.

It took much convincing over holo, for Satine to force Zeke from immediately rendezvousing with the Anomalous. When it seemed that he was beyond persuasion, she reminded him of the importance behind his commitment to the investigation. Though he appeared to be temporarily appeased, he assured that this was a far too lengthy deputing of his duties. She smirked and insisted the Jedi were well beyond capable of protecting her.

It didn't offer her chief of staff much comfort, especially now that she had promised to reunite the group once their expedition reached Kalevala, proposing his continued presence might prevent further destruction on her homeworld. Reluctantly, he agreed, questioning for any pertinent information that she had acquired poring through the footage.

"Nothing." She assured. "Nothing beyond what we already suspected. Beskar armor and a jetpack."

He nodded. "Do you think this our culprit or merely another paid saboteur?"

"There's a consensus that leans toward the former."

"Did you get a good look at him?"

Satine paused before shaking her head. "No, the helmet made identification impossible."

Zeke huffed irritably. "Pathetic terrorists deluded enough to fancy themselves warriors, while they hide in shadows, mocking the way of respectable and direct dissension."

"I'd like to think we subverted their expectations enough to buy some time while planning a way to draw them out."

He nodded. "That seems the only way stop escalation before one strike results in fatalities." He thought for a moment. "You'll have to provoke their attention to get such a chance."

Satine smirked at his holoprojection. "Just spreading the good word."

He laughed, appreciating the way the Duchess knew how to turn any deviation from her original plan as if it was entirely welcome. With a fortitude such as hers, he almost felt ridiculous for worrying about the foundation of her authority. The obstinacy of her principles was enough to make even the most stubborn listen, still he knew the reception would not be polite. "Make sure those Jedi keep a close eye on you."

Satine laughed. "You needn't worry about that. It seems I've inspired enough suspicion, by merely being myself, to keep my guards on their toes."

"I'd expect nothing less from the Duchess of Clan Kryze." He joked congenially.

"Let us hope my claim to instigation is on par with my knack for eliciting skepticism."

"I'd expect nothing less from the Duchess of Clan Kryze." Zeke reiterated with a teasing laugh in his eyes, causing the Duchess to narrow her own.

"Well, it seems we have nothing to worry about then."

"All the same," A tightness filled his expression and Satine was surprised to see the way it emphasized the worry wrinkles on his face, causing her to wonder just how many of those she had caused over the years. "Keep your eyes open."

"And my trust guarded." She completed, knowing the sentiment by heart. When she was younger, she had believed Zeke's warning much too detached for who she was and all that she wanted to do; now, as her mind wandered into distressing territories, she wondered if her chief of staff had been right all along, though she refused to admit it aloud. Sighing, she tried to shake the thoughts from her head. "I know." She brightened her voice. "You needn't worry. This will be good for the cause."

"The cause is not my main priority." He assured.

"No, but my safety is and if I fail at my own priorities to lead, then who would you be protecting?"

"Family." Zeke replied resolutely, instinctively placing his hand to his sternum, feeling her father's gift, an engraved steel tag he always wore around his neck.

Satine gave him a melancholy smile at the familiar gesture, unable to vocalize how much it meant to her to be called family. Ever since her father had died and most of her clan disowned her, it had become more difficult to feel like she was still part of one. "Then let me be family you're proud to claim."

Zeke wanted to tell her that she already was but didn't. He understood that she needed to continue, needed to keep busy and stay vigilant to prove it to herself. Despite the differences in Adonai's beliefs, he knew that her father would be proud of her and amazed by her irritating persistence. "I'll see you soon." He wasn't sure how soon, but it seemed an adequate promise. The Duchess smiled and repeated the same sentiments before dismissing the holo.

The time spent on Shukut edifying the populace of the New Mandalorian regime was brief. In the few suspended cities located on the gas giant, the Duchess appealed herself to the audience. Though the main purpose of her political expedition might've initially been misconstrued as a campaigning tour, her immediate inquiries of both the sentients – Mandalorians and migrants alike – needs and global aspirations made her true intentions unmistakably clear.

Satine met with governors and appointed officials, earnestly establishing a thread of communication to see the facilitation of the collective, incumbent needs. She made it fervently transparent that Mandalore had barely begun to scratch the surface of the kind of progress that could be made through diplomacy; her words were hopeful, even if her tone seemed to mourn the time that had been wasted in violent pursuits.

Upon boarding the Anomalous, Master Jinn was quick to compliment her clarity in presenting such ideals, relating to her kind without alienating their past. Satine could feel Obi-wan's eyes resume their speculative scrutiny but turned her attention to Pietra.

"Duchess, during your speech, you received that holo you've been waiting for." The handmaiden met her gaze with intention.

"Thank you, Pietra." Satine sighed, feeling the strained tension cease its swimming in her gut, despite the cautious gaze directed at her from the young man. "I trust a message was left?"

"Naturally." She said with a polite nod, noticing the leader's distracted expression. "I'm sure you're expected to reply at your convenience."

Satine gave the young woman a knowing expression. "Seeing how long I had to wait, I should hope so." With a sigh, she approached the table with her datapad. "I'll see to it once I've finished drafting speeches for the system."

The brunette nodded before excusing herself. "Of course, Duchess."

The golden-haired monarch sat at the table, not looking up from her gadget as she spoke directly to the only one still in the corridor. "Is there something you'd like me to clarify for you, apprentice Kenobi?"

Obi-wan was cautious to step forward, but his eyes were not afflicted with the same problem of pace, nor were his words. "Consider me curious, Duchess. I've heard you address an assembly before, but it's another thing to watch you relate to a crowd."

"Something about your wary tone causes me to expect complaint. Am I meant to ask whether or not you approve?"

Appreciating the immovable edge of her voice, he wondered if it was enough to discourage further badinage between them. He ventured to answer such an inquiry, by acknowledging the bluntness of her question. "I find it," Obi turned to look at her, as if the word he sought was hidden in the planes of her face. "Intriguing," Though inadequate, he allowed the choice to settle for a second before continuing. "The significance of interpretation in your arguments. It's strikingly methodical."

Satine suspected his words were supposed to serve as a backhanded compliment, still she couldn't silence her interest. "Meaning?"

"Mando'a is a rare unifier amongst your people." She nodded, not looking up as Obi-wan moved closer to the table. "Shukut." He revisited a topic mentioned earlier in her speech. "From the word shukular, to crush."

"Are you so easily intrigued by linguistics, Emissary Kenobi?" She asked with vague attention.

He sat down across from her. "No doubt a term translated in basic to illustrate dominance."

She looked up and the ice of her blue orbs revealed a muted irritation. "Your own interpretation."

"Though clearly not yours." He offered, reciting her own sentiments. "'This planet serves as a reminder that against the cruelest, most demanding odds, Mandalorians can rise, even thrive where no path is forged, and no structure provided. Crushed under the pressure of our past, we persist stubbornly, making our own way in this uncertain galaxy. Only by abandoning such reputation do we liberate ourselves from violent expectation.'" He quoted, the return of his own inflection signifying his challenging query. "Do you often find the need to repurpose your native language towards such partial perspective?"

"I would've believed you capable of understanding the difference between translation and interpretation." Her eyes returned to her datapad.

Obi nodded to himself. "Quite; the distinction is undeniable with such blatant preference to the latter, Duchess."

She met his gaze again. "Why should I encourage dominance over resilience? Surely, you can comprehend the need for my emphasis." Her brow lifted in challenge. "I doubt you can call yourself free of opinion."

"No, nor without allegiance, still you wield it so effortlessly, I can't help but nearly be convinced; despite my internal contradictions to your convictions." He sighed.

Her crystal eyes narrowed in consideration. "I see you do not share your master's opinion, Emissary Kenobi."

He wanted to disagree but couldn't deny there was some truth in her statement. "The Order seeks peace, so I can understand your goal, but relying on the success of pacifism seems dangerously idealistic."

"Idealistic?" It took Satine a great deal of effort to soften her glare, speaking quietly though they were alone. "That hardly sound like the words of a Jedi-Knight to be."

Obi-wan nodded in the slightest. "Perhaps, but even the Jedi must resort to combat. Simply refraining from violence is no true defense. There will eventually be a need for battle; it is inevitable."

She watched him, simultaneously sad and proud, as if she pitied him. With a nod, she began. "You see, Emissary Kenobi, I am not simple enough to think that pacifism will erase tensions or that it will even dissolve confrontation. In fact, I'm well aware of the contrary. Much too easily, we are inclined to forget that there is more to be understood through communication than through war. Battles are inevitable, Obi-wan," She noticed him unconsciously tense at her first direct address. "But unlike your skewed perception, sometimes they aren't meant to be won, but discussed."

He watched her closely. "That won't always be sufficient, not to settle the issues that require a stand for what is right." Obi knew the truth of it, he couldn't deny his own code.

"That's merely a matter of vantage point." She didn't need to see his confused expression to continue further. "I have seen enough of war, known enough of battles to assure you that more often than not, with time it becomes easier to lose sight of just what you were fighting for. Once your cause is lost to you, the battles you fight cease to be those righteous tests of honor that you respect so greatly."

He didn't want to believe her and in truth, a small part of him couldn't. "That won't happen." She smirked and Obi-wan rightly felt the slightest bit antagonized.

"I admire your conviction and the way you seem to think that it is enough to keep your deeds noble and your conscience clean, but real war taints even the purest of intentions. Most don't realize they're lost until it's too far gone." He shook his head. "Ah, you think yourself unique, immune to the puppetry." Now she shook her own. "Perhaps you'll never have to find out, but don't believe for a moment that your dedication to your cause is greater than any other soldier who didn't have a benevolent Republic to hide his actions behind."

"I have no need to hide." His tone was lined with a resolute righteousness. "I'm fighting for the good of the galaxy."

"No," Satine asserted. "You fight for the Jedi Order and to a greater extent, the Republic. I hope it is always a virtuous battle you fight, but I'm not entirely sure such a thing exists."

Her words caused his thoughts to stutter briefly. The tone of her voice seemed free of judgment yet saddened with experience and for a breath of a second, he thought he'd rather see her smile. "That sounds almost cynical, given the context of your people."

She smirked and only the tiniest sliver of humor skimmed her eyes. "You perplex me, Obi-wan." Informality danced from noble tongue again, illuminated by growing familiarity; her proud cadence embellishing each vowel in a way he had never heard. "Am I an idealist or a cynic?"

He looked down, his expression falling to a sheepish smirk, recalling his own contradiction. "It would seem you perplex me as well, Duchess Satine." Her name slipped from his mouth softer than satin and he realized he couldn't answer her question; he had no idea just what she was.

Satine failed to hide her instinctual smile, finding herself charmed by his unabashed honesty. Perhaps, suspicion had fallen away to curiosity. "Ah, it seems we've finally found some common ground."

He grinned. "Careful. If another Mandalorian hears you relating to a Jedi, they might think you mad."

"They already do." She gave him an uncertain shrug that seemed foreign from her usually confident and decisive demeanor. "At least they won't think me friendless."

Her off-the-cuff remark moved him, and he failed to swallow his congenial smile, meeting her eyes. "Are we friends then?" His voice was gentle, demonstrating that the change wasn't the least bit unwelcome. Seeing her smile, he laughed. "We're bound to have a riot on our hands now."

"That should be enough to keep you busy then." She eyed him with a playful sharpness. "Surely you could be put to better use than shadowing an entitled royal for months."

Obi-wan turned the shyest shade of red, having his earlier words thrown back into his face. "I'm sorry." He cast his head down, not the least bit surprised that he had been caught; she seemed too keen a person to not take notice of insult. "I judged you too quickly and misspoke."

"You misunderstand me, Obi-wan. I wasn't trying to shame you." She smirked. "Merely tease, yet you rob me with such sincere guilt."

"What would your preferred reaction be?" A legerity filled his core as her eyes remained on his.

She shrugged again. "More of that crimson countenance."

"The insurgents will no doubt fear me," Obi laughed. "The bashful bodyguard."

"My nervous Knight." Satine teased.

He felt some undiscovered muscle clench in an indescribable way at her – no doubt – unintentional claim. "That could only be possible if this mission was my trial." Obi became lost in the way her eyes seemed entirely transfixed with his. Like some unstoppable law of nature, even more irresistible than magnetic energy, he felt bound by a feeling while barricaded from sense, as if entangled, almost bewitched by Force Majeure and it compelled him to wonder if this was his own test of honor. He wasn't sure what that meant, only that despite his confusion, something made him yearn to fail. "Even if that were the case, I could not succeed promotion until your culprits are caught."

"Then by all means, hasten to victory. Such a title might better suit your incorruptible character."

"Not all are so fortunate as to have equal claim to royalty in title and regality in disposition."

"Are you accusing me of fitting the description of Duchess?" She joked.

"Are you insisting your innocence?" Obi watched her with a theatric suspicion.

"I doubt my chances." An exhale revealed itself as a laugh. "Have judgment condemn me with responsibility. I have no qualms about proving my claim."

"I doubt anyone would consider you incapable." He offered.

"You might be surprised." She said with a contrary tone filling her voice.

"Not incapable." Obi assured, seeing a light flood her sharp cerulean orbs. "Merely unpopular."

A humored offense flustered her features before she schooled her surprise, confidence returning tenfold. "Only an unsuccessful politician maintains popularity; general favor often denotes a lack of power. It's all too easy to find contempt for authority, especially once it threatens to shatter the status quo."

"You fancy yourself a revolutionary?" Obi smirked, understanding why she enjoyed teasing him, now that he had the privilege of watching her own countenance contort in bewilderment.

Satine's eyes cast downward, scoffing with a laugh. "Perhaps, though in the most ironic of terms."

"As well as the most irenic." He offered, a grin pulling at his expression.

Watching his face, she sighed with a gentle nod. "Against the expressed desires of many, yes." Her head slowly whipped back and forth, still her icy eyes caught fire. "If I was so easily dissuaded, I would've selected a different occupation."

"I struggle to envision it." He said with soft consideration.

"As do I." She smiled brightly.

**A/N: The two definitions of Force Majeure - '(1) Unforeseeable circumstances that prevent someone from fulfilling a contract. (2) Irresistible compulsion or greater force.' When I came across this term, it seemed perfectly poetic to encapsulate the significance of the pull, the challenge he felt in that moment. I have to admit, my favorite part of writing this chapter came from wanting to show how Satine's idea of war truly does serve as an analogy that parallels the way lines were blurred and allegiances poisoned during the Clone Wars.