Chapter One: Bastard
Korkie is pretty young when he starts putting the pieces together. Five, or maybe six. He knows that mom doesn't let him call her mom, which is a little weird. Relatives call her 'Sati'ika' or 'Tina,' and she easily responds to that.
That's what he has called her since he was tiny, when mom had burst into tears after being called "Mom" repeatedly because he wanted her attention.
People refer to him as mom's nephew, which doesn't quite make sense, especially with the sneer that follows.
Nephew is bad, he can tell. It's a sense that he has, one that he doesn't quite understand.
He is about twelve when he learns that 'nephew' is code among the Galaxy's elite for bastard.
Bastard means without a father, illegitimate, which is so, so scandalous for any Mandalorian, traditionalist or new Mandalorian.
A nephew can inherit the throne.
A bastard can barely set foot outside.
It hurts, realizing his mom carried so much shame giving birth to him, having him as a son.
It hurts that people look at him oddly, that he doesn't have a father, that he can't call his mother 'mom.'
All these thoughts circulate his head most days, though sometimes he can push them away.
It's harder when he's home from school, in the palace, around relatives and staff and people that know him more intimately.
Like now, eating across from his mother in their chambers. There is an old-fashioned stereo playing rock music as usual, which always makes him laugh. Few know that Sati'ika preferred rock and anything loud and full of screaming than the classical shit they were always invited too.
She's quiet, her hair bound in a braid, the only cosmetics on her face being lip balm. An old tunic and leggings hang off her frame, both of which she would never be caught dead wearing in public.
Giving a sigh, Korkie puts down his fork and folds his elbows on the table. "Mom."
Satine jolts, nearly upsetting her water glass she had been reaching for. She swallows, taking a moment before glancing at him and trying to smile. "What Korkie?"
He withholds a grimace - it was never smart to actually refer to as 'mom' or 'mother.' But this conversation...well, he needed to address her like this.
It will be uncomfortable for both of them.
"You're not gonna like what I have to say."
A thin eyebrow raises in bemusement. She takes a drink of water, earning herself time to become composed. "If you haven't been expelled or gotten someone pregnant I don't know what I can be angry at."
"...mmm - speaking of pregnancy," Korkie scratchs his neck. "Can I ask about when you were pregnant with me? Or even...who my father is? Or - "
"Korkie." Satine glances down at her pile of steamed vegetables and roots, pressing her lips together.
A wave of guilt washes over him. This is something he hasn't dared asked since he was a kid.
Idiot. Idiot.
"I - Mom, I'm sorry, I didn't mean too make you upset I just - "
"Honey….just...give me a minute." Satine props her slim fingers underneath her chin, then stands and heads to the liquor cabinet. She pulls out a bottle of half-drunk wine and a glass, filling it nearly to the brim before sitting back down. It doesn't take her long to down a good amount of the wine, and she seems to have a bit more color in her cheeks once the alcohol goes down her throat.
"Korkie...there are reasons why I never mention your father. Reasons that could get you killed...or worse."
Korkie frowns, wondering what could be worse.
He doesn't know what his mother thinks is worse than death.
Tears burn in his eyes, and he turns his head. "I was born ten months after the civil war...did he know? About me?"
Satine sips at the wine, looking... wistful. Sad, like she always did whenever that part of her life was brought up. "No, he didn't know. I didn't tell him."
"What? Why not?" Horror seizes him, and Korkie stands abruptly. "Wait - were you...am I a product of - of rape?!'
"No! No, Korkie no." She sets down the wine glass and stands, moving to sit next to him at the table. A gentle hand convinces him to sit again. "Korkie, even if you were, I still would have given birth to you."
"Then why are you so ashamed me?" His voice doesn't sound like his own. It's scared, weak, broken.
"I'm not ashamed just...scared." Satine smooths his hair, a tired smile on her face. She has always looked incredibly young, but now she looks exhausted. "There are reasons I kept you quiet...but Korkie, your father would have loved you. He would have sacrificed everything for you."
"Then why didn't you tell him?"
"Because…" Satine hesitates, then pressed a kiss to his brow. "I couldn't take him away from his future. He has accomplished so much and knowing - what?"
Korkie pulls away, raising his eyebrows. "My father is still alive - wait, you still keep in contact with him? What - "
"Korkie - you have to promise me you won't search for answers until you're ready. It will be dangerous if you search for him...but yes, your father is still a dear friend of mine."
"How much am I allowed to tease you on this mission?"
Obi-Wan rolls his eyes affectionately at his co-pilot, turning in his seat. "It's just a protection mission - nothing more."
"On Mandalore." Cody laughs at the sigh he receives, turning back to check their estimated arrival times. "It still doesn't make sense."
"What doesn't?"
"Why Duchess Kryze didn't give much information about why she wanted us here."
Obi-Wan clears his throat, pretending to check the controls to avoid the stare of his commander.
"Oh she told you?"
"We are...close."
"Mm hmm."
"Don't give me that look."
"What look? The one on my face filled with amusement and disappointment?" Cody cackles gleefully while his general's ears burn bright red. He has to say it was relaxing, knowing this shouldn't be too much of a stressful mission.
Obi-Wan sighs, finally giving in. "Fine. We were asked to give protection to the Academy - they have some kids from Seperatists planets interested in transferring,"
"I can give a thousand reasons why that is a bad idea."
"As can I...but you have at least seen Duchess Kryze speak. When she sets her mind to something it's rather hard to sway her opinion."
"Sounds like my general," Cody mutters while he checks the time estimates. "We'll have to pull out of hyperspace in an hour."
Obi-Wan swallows hard, turning to face the streaks of hyperspace. He had spoken to her several times since their reunion, had fallen into bed with her several more times if they happened to be on the same planet.
Something has eaten at him if he had a moment to himself, though he didn't dare address it to her.
Just above her pubic hair is a thin scar, suspiciously like a cesarean section scar. He knows he didn't really have the right to ask, but he was still curious about it.
It's her business, Obi-Wan reminded himself. Just focus on the mission.
He knew for a majority of the mission they would be at the Academy...but he can't shake the feeling that something in the coming weeks will change his life…
Possibly forever.
Author's note: hello my dears to another angsty fic because I don't know how to write just one fic at a time!
Blame its-captain-sir (formerly Jedi Master Megan) for engaging in my bullshit then helping to make this idea a legit fic.
ii Digestive Reader ii