Obi-Wan's Mission:
D7/37 BBY, Coruscant
Obi-Wan Kenobi walked beside his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, as they made their way through the Jedi Temple to the top floor and the High Council chamber. He glanced at the taller man curiously as they walked, hands tucked neatly inside his robe's sleeves. "Do you know what this is about, Master?"
Qui-Gon's mouth quirked in amusement. "My answer is still the same as it was the last two times you asked in slightly different fashions, Obi-Wan. Aside from it pertaining to a new mission, no, I don't. Have I not taught you anything about patience?"
Obi-Wan raised a single copper brow, feigning surprise. "There were lessons on patience? I must have missed those ones. I'm afraid you'll have to teach them to me again, Master."
Qui-Gon snorted softly so as not to be heard making such an indelicate sound by the Temple Guards they were approaching. He shot his student a disapproving frown out of principle, but the underlying humour bounced back and forth in their bond, not bothering to hide it from his snarky Padawan that kept him endlessly entertained.
The Guards opened the Council chamber doors for them and they walked into the large circular room surrounded by windows, giving a fantastic view of the never-ending city of Coruscant no matter which way you looked except for backwards.
Master and Apprentice came to a stop at the edge of the circle of chairs containing the High Council of the Jedi Order when Master Windu raised a hand and indicated they should stop there and then waited patiently to be addressed while doing a very good job of not squirming under the studying gazes of the Council.
After a minute, Windu spoke. "Are you aware of the situation on Mandalore?"
Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan, since his padawan was more likely to keep track of galactic affairs.
"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "A civil war has broken out between the New Mandalorians and the Traditionalists. The war is spreading across the entire Mandalorian controlled section of the galaxy planet by planet. Millions are killing each other every day." He didn't say it was dreadful, but the unspoken words hung in the air with the tone of his voice.
"Correct you are," Master Yoda said with sadness in his voice. "But interfere we can not."
"Due to the nature of the Mandalorians, they would not accept our help," Master Windu continued. "They would be more likely to turn on us. But there is one who has asked for help and we have decided it is prudent to do so." He touched a button on his chair and a hologram of a beautiful young woman in Mandalorian armour, carrying her helmet under an arm, and covered in a hooded cape appeared. "This is the recently elected Duchess of the New Mandalorians. We received this transmission a few hours ago. I'll let her explain the situation." He touched another button and the recording began to talk.
"I am Duchess Satine Kryze of House Kryze. I am appealing to your supposed good natures and your reputations as Peacekeepers. My people are dying. Millions and millions of Mandalorians are dying because they will not listen to reason. Please. I need help to stop this war before there is no one left but the children. I cannot even address them anymore. Everytime I appeared in public as myself, someone tried to assassinate me. If you have received this and are willing to help, please come find me, for I cannot afford to risk sending any more transmissions. I am now trapped in the palace in Sundari. The Traditionalists have it surrounded and no one is allowed in or out. They're trying to get me to surrender and give up my position, but I will not do that. As long as I am alive, I will continue to hold true to my beliefs. I AM the Duchess of New Mandalore and fully intend to remain so for as long as my people wish to support me!" She paused for breath and settled herself back down. "Please. Do what you're reputed to be and come restore peace to my world. End this war that is destroying us from the inside out. You're my only hope."
The hologram disappeared and the room was silent.
Obi-Wan was still entranced from the vision of the young woman whose image was now imprinted in his mind forever. She was astonishingly beautiful, even in the monotonous blue shade of a hologram. Her voice was like smooth honey and her spirit shone through with every word she spoke. She was magnificent.
She needed help.
Obi-Wan's protective instincts came roaring to the surface and he was suddenly extremely anxious to get going and rescue the fair maiden from the fire breathing dragon that was the warriors of Mandalore. "When do we leave and how many are coming with us?"
Qui-Gon shot him a look of reprimand. "They haven't even said that this is our mission yet, Padawan."
"But it's obvious," Obi-Wan said in his defence. "Otherwise they would not have brought us here and shown us the recording."
"Your padawan is correct, if a little forward, Master Jinn,' Windu said with the slightest narrowing of his eyes in disapproval. "We are sending you to Mandalore. But as I said before, we are not going to attempt to stop their war. We have fought with the Mandalorians before and lost too many Jedi to count. We will not do it again. But we do think that extracting the Duchess from her current situation would be a prudent course of action. When the war is over, she can return to Mandalore and resume her rule over whatever people remain."
"But..." Obi-Wan started.
Qui-Gon poked him with a mental 'shut it' over their bond.
"No." Windu cut him off as well. "Just the two of you. Rescue the Duchess from the palace and get her off the planet and protect her until the war is over. That is your mission."
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan bowed over their tucked in sleeves hands. "Yes, Master Windu," Qui-Gon said. "We shall leave immediately."
"Good," he replied with a dismissing motion of his hand. "May the Force be with you."
"Thank you," Master and Apprentice said in unison and then turned to leave.
Obi-Wan was both excited and indignant as they strode towards their quarters deep in the Temple to pack the necessities.. "I like this mission, Master. I think it will be great fun."
Qui-Gon smiled at him indulgently. "It certainly has more appeal than retrieving Force sensitive children or watching over two parties sign peace treaties."
"By a lightyear," Obi-Wan said dryly. "But I still think more than us should be going. There are thousands of relatively bored Jedi like us. I'm sure they wouldn't mind fighting for a good cause."
"That is not our call to make, Obi-Wan. You shall simply have to be content with rescuing the Duchess."
"Oh, I'm quite on board with that, Master," Obi-Wan said quickly, hiding how much the thought of seeing her in real life made his heart pound and skin tingle with excitement. "I just don't understand why the Jedi are so reticent in regards to ACTUALLY doing something that would qualify as bringing peace."
"That is a question I often asked myself, and one of the reasons why the Council and I don't see eye to eye." He glanced at Obi-Wan as they walked. "You do realize we're being sent as scapegoats. They don't expect us to actually survive such a dangerous mission. But their consciences will be clear because they TRIED to send someone to rescue the Duchess and when we fail, it will justify their belief that the Mandalorians are not worth helping."
"Then we shall simply not fail and prove them wrong," Obi-Wan said confidently.
Qui-Gon raised a brow in amusement. "I think a little more lightsabre practice on the way there is in order."
"I'm all for that, Master," Obi-Wan said with a grin.
Two days later, Qui-Gon landed their newly acquired, somewhat used, YT-1300 Corellian freighter its first owner had dubbed 'The Falcon' in the shipping yards of Sundari under the pretext of delivering crates of fresh produce to the city. They actually had no intention of handing over the supplies on their ship, despite the cargo hold being stocked to the brim with crates.
Not knowing how long they would have to keep the Duchess in hiding, they had acquired about a year's worth of fresh produce and dried rations to keep them going.
On the flight in to the domed city, they had seen explosions scattered around the entire city and an all out line of battle taking place in the centre of the city on what looked like the main street.
The landscape outside the city was barren desert and mountains and looked rather inhospitable. Despite this, there were camps of Mandalorians and their ships scattered all over the desert and a real war taking place on a large flat piece of land with thousands of bodies clashing together.
The situation on Mandalore was even worse than either of them had imagined.
Walking down the ramp, they were met by the Shipping Master. His eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion upon seeing their robes. "You don't look like any freighter crew I've ever seen. Why, if I didn't think it was total lunacy, I'd say you look like Jedi."
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan glanced down at their outfits and then at each other in alarm.
Qui-Gon stepped closer to the suspicious man and waved his hand subtly as he said with a push of the Force at the man, "We are just normal freighters and you have already accepted our shipment and paid us. Our ship is fine where it is until we are ready to leave."
The man relaxed and smiled at them, tapping something into the datapad in his hand. "Thank you for your business. Fresh produce is so hard to come by at the moment. Your ship is fine there for as long as you want, but I don't recommend exploring the city much at the moment. There's something of a war going on right now." He laughed at his own wit and then turned and left them.
"Nice fellow," Obi-Wan remarked as they wandered through the shipping yards and towards the center of the city, keeping to the shadows of towering crates as much as possible and avoiding any wandering workers. "When do I get to do the mind trick thing? You hardly ever let me practice."
Qui-Gon snorted. "Like you need practice. You're much too good at it as is, my whiny Padawan. But you can do the next one, I suppose."
They stopped at the edge of the shipping yard and looked out into the city streets, wincing as a nearby building went boom as someone chucked a grenade into it.
"I think," Qui-Gon said dryly, "That it would be best if we waited for dark to get the Duchess."
"A change of clothes wouldn't be amiss either," Obi-Wan said, noticing that every single person actually daring to walk the city streets right now was wearing armour.
"They don't exactly sell that in a store, Obi-Wan."
"Then we'll have to acquire some the more interesting way, won't we, Master?" Obi-Wan said with a grin.
Qui-Gon just sighed and started back towards their ship.
It was now dark. The city was somewhat quieter as most people gave up on their demonstrations of warfare for the day to get some sustenance and a little rest. Two unfortunate warriors were now sleeping in the deep shadows of a maze of crates near the Falcon in just their underwear and the two Jedi were slipping into their 'acquired' bodysuits and armour.
Although slipping might be a bit of an exaggeration. It was more like struggling.
"How do they wear this day in and day out?" Obi-Wan wondered. "It's so confining."
"I'm sure you get used to it." Qui-Gon said with a slight eye roll.
"And where in the galaxy am I supposed to hide my lightsabre? You can't tell me carrying it on our belts in plain sight is a wise idea."
Qui-Gon sighed. "Break it down into pieces and put it in the pouch compartments on the belt. It's probably best if we don't use them unless we absolutely have to."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said mournfully as he took apart his precious lightsabre and stuffed the pieces into a pouch. He held up one of the twin WESTAR blasters that had come with the outfit and admired it. "At least we've trained with something like this on occasion and I actually know how to hit something with one. But nothing this nice, that's for sure. It's a shame we can't keep it."
Qui-Gon glanced at his apprentice as he affixed the last piece of armour to his bodysuit. "I'm sure those warriors are quite attached to their armour. I think I heard something about beskar armour being handed down from generation to generation. Keeping it would be a terrible crime."
"Oh, I wasn't talking about the armour," Obi-Wan said with a twinkle in his blue grey eyes. "I can do without that, thank you very much. I was talking about the WESTARs. You can't tell me this," he held up the practically new looking blaster, "is generations old."
Qui-Gon raised a brow and inspected his own set of blasters, which didn't look anywhere near as nice as Obi-Wan's but were functional still. "I suppose you can keep them. They may be useful in protecting the Duchess in the future."
Obi-Wan whooped quietly and holstered the blaster, then shifted his shoulders uncomfortably under the bodysuit and the weight of the armour.
"They could also be useful bartering items," Qui-Gon added, smirking slightly as Obi-Wan's face fell. "So don't get too attached to them."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said obediently. He brightened. "My lightsabre is a more elegant weapon anyway."
"Very true, Obi-Wan. Very true," Qui-Gon said approvingly. He looked them both over, double checking that everything looked right. "Tuck in your braid," he said as he gathered his long brown hair into a quick bun at the top of his head so it wouldn't show once his helmet was on.
Obi-Wan glanced down at the long narrow braid hanging over his shoulder and huffed, then tucked it into the neck of his body suit. "Better?"
"Better," Qui-Gon said with a smile. "Shall we go rescue a Duchess?"
"Let's." Obi-Wan grinned, plunked the matching helmet on his head, and then practically bounded out of the Falcon's cargo hold.
Qui-Gon chuckled and followed at a much more dignified pace. "Oh, to be that young again," he said quietly under his breath.
They mingled with the Mandalorians encircling the large durasteel and glass palace, assessing the situation, and then retreated to a side road to talk quietly. "It looks like the best way into the palace is via the roof of the building next door. We can jump across to a balcony and sneak in," Qui-Gon said softly.
"Sounds good to me."
So that's what they did, landing on the balcony neatly with hardly a sound, the crowd of guarding Mandalorians completely oblivious to the two Jedi leaping across the distance between buildings like it was nothing.
Obi-Wan undid the lock on the glass door with a flick of his hand and into the palace they crept, walking into a library and a blaster pointed at them from the Mandalorian guard.
Being closer, Obi-Wan knocked the blaster from the female's hand before she could pull the trigger and then grabbed her hands and held them behind her back when she tried to punch him, holding her back against his chest with an arm around her throat. "Tell me where the Duchess is."
"Draar! mir'osik," the female spat through her helmet.
Obi-Wan looked at his Master and Qui-Gon shrugged slightly. Neither of them knew any Mando'a. Perhaps they should have studied it as well as training on the long trip to this corner of the galaxy.
"I take it that was a no?" Obi-Wan asked his captive.
"Gar mirsh solus meh gar mirdir ni kelir rejorhaa'ir gar mayen."
"Not helpful," Obi-Wan said dryly, not understanding a word. But the tone certainly wasn't nice.
"Leave her," Qui-Gon said. "We'll find her on our own. At this time of day, she's probably eating dinner."
The female stiffened slightly in Obi-Wan's hold and he smirked. Pressing his will into her mind he waved his hand in front of her helmet. "Sleep." She slumped in his hold and he lowered her to the ground. "Thank you," he said, looking down at her form. "You've been most unhelpful." Obi-Wan turned his focus back on his Master. "Any guesses where the main dining hall is?"
Qui-Gon shrugged. "No. But we shall find it nonetheless. We'll start by heading down and aim for the biggest congregation of Force signatures."
"Oh, smart," Obi-Wan said admiringly as they walked into a hallway and started searching for a staircase or elevator. "Have I mentioned lately that you're the best Master?"
"Last week, I think," Qui-Gon said dryly. "But the week before that, you said I was the biggest pain in your rear end the Force could possibly have placed in your life. You really need to make up your mind, Obi-Wan," he said teasingly.
Obi-Wan flushed slightly in shame under his helmet. "You weren't supposed to hear that."
Qui-Gon laughed quietly as they finally found a staircase and made their way downwards.
Four floors later, they could hear the murmur of many voices and they tensed as they approached the big open doors of a massive dining hall.
"Now what?" Obi-Wan whispered.
"We could just stroll in there like we belong," Qui-Gon suggested in an equally quiet whisper. "We are dressed the part, I believe. Then we figure out which one is the Duchess, which shouldn't be too hard; we have seen her face, after all. Then we wait for her to leave the dining hall and follow her to her rooms. We'll take her from there."
"I like it," Obi-Wan said. "There's just one problem. If we take our helmets off to eat too, they're sure to notice that we're strangers."
"We'll have to risk it."
So into the dining hall they strolled.
They glanced around, observing what had to be over a hundred people eating at long tables, and saw a massive buffet laid out against the back wall of floor to ceiling windows.
As they walked towards the buffet, the room slowly but surely silenced itself as people observed them and stopped eating. They tensed as the atmosphere instantly turned hostile and the next thing they knew they were being shot at by a multitude of blasters. They dived under the nearest buffet table just in time and knocked it over to make a shield, sending platters of sliced fruits to the floor with a bang.
"I think your plan is officially a no go," Obi-Wan said calmly as blaster shots pelted the table and they quickly assembled their lightsabres with sure fingers.
"Don't get cheeky, Padawan," Qui-Gon chided.
"Sorry, Master."
Qui-Gon stuck his helmeted head up over the table for half a second to assess the situation and found it not good at all. The Mandos were lining up neatly so as not to hit each other and blocking their exit. And someone that he assumed to be the Duchess was being escorted out of the dining hall at a swift pace. They could go out the windows, but that would then put them in the line of fire of the waiting Mandos outside who were blockading the palace, and that wouldn't get them their Duchess.
Making a split second decision, Qui-Gon leapt up from behind the table, flipping high and far above everyone's heads, igniting his green lightsabre as he did so. He landed in front of the party trying to leave the room.
Obi-Wan followed his Master half a second later, doing the exact same manoeuvre and landing beside his Master with his own blue lightsabre flashing.
They blocked the group from leaving with their bodies and their lightsabres, and started deflecting shots into the walls as the Mandalorians caught up to their movements and targeted them again.
"Stop!" rang out a cry from a female voice.
All of the shooting stopped in an instant.
The Jedi waited to see what was going to happen next, bodies tense and ready for anything.
"I asked them to come," the female said as the bodyguards around her parted and let Duchess Satine walk forward.
Obi-Wan's breath caught to see her in real life. Her long braided hair that hung over her shoulder was silver blond and her eyes were the most intriguing shade of turquoise. And she was most definitely exquisitely beautiful. She walked with a calm grace that suited her lithe and curvy frame encased in green, blue, and silver armour and draped by a floor length silver cloak. She was also even younger than he'd thought; eighteen or nineteen at the most.
Obi-Wan had to steady himself on his feet as his world turned on its axis and everything he'd believed in as a Jedi turned to dust. He turned off his lightsabre and hooked it to his belt and then pushed the offensive helmet off his head so he could gaze at her in bemused awe more clearly.
Obi-Wan had just found his new purpose in life.
Mando'a words:
Draar! mir'osik. – Never! dung for brains.
Gar mirsh solus meh gar mirdir ni kelir rejorhaa'ir gar mayen. – You're a moron if you think I will tell you anything. (Or more literally: Your brain cells are lonely if you think I will tell you anything.)