I loved hearing your guesses and will have to write Padme and Bail into the story down the track. Today, however, we have a less likely hero to enjoy.

The Temple had become suffocating. Obi Wan had never kept a blasted secret before and although he loved his friends he wished they would just stop asking how he was. He didn't like lying. Perhaps, in his childhood, he'd had the inclination to do so, but never the ability – there was always a wise Master to tease out the truth – and so he'd given up trying. He'd kept Korkie a secret for two years now and yet it still felt unnatural.

But there were brief reprieves even in the life of a Jedi Knight and Master to the Chosen One. Anakin's Intergalactic Politics class arranged an impromptu excursion to witness the historic filibustered debate between Bespin's indigenous population and those with interests in the mining and exportation of rare tibanna gas, leaving Obi Wan with a rare night to himself.

Months ago, he'd have taken the opportunity to hurry to Mandalore. But that wound ached too raw. No matter how much time he spent in meditation, it was not clear to Obi Wan whether his visits to Korkie did more harm than good. The hurt that he had done Satine was obvious enough. He heard her voice in his every meditation. If I could make it go away I would! Perhaps she could not make it go away, but he could keep away. She was, presumably, far happier under their current arrangements.

He couldn't go to Mandalore and there was no chance he was staying in the blasted Temple. The evening air was cool and the Coruscant sky silver and purple. Obi Wan walked the streets until darkness fell and he finally – he'd long lost the ravenous appetite of his youth – felt a faint pang of hunger.

Dex's Diner was always open until late. Dexter Jettster always smelled of oil and nerf meat and always insisted on greeting Obi Wan with a crushing hug. This place was a greasy, fluorescent, welcoming constant in a shitty galaxy.

"You haven't been coming 'round enough!" Dex reprimanded Obi Wan, releasing him from his embrace and ushering him into a booth. "You're getting skinny."

Dex was probably right. Obi Wan hadn't been eating much.

"Don't worry about taking his order, Flo," Dex declared, with a wave of his hand at his waitress droid. "I know exactly what this boy needs."

"I really couldn't have a nerfburger," Obi Wan protested weakly.

"You'll have a nerfburger and more to boot!" Dex decreed, as he swept back to the kitchen.

Obi Wan bit back his futile protests and rested his chin on his hands. His tired gaze wandered around the diner and he wondered whether the galaxy was being deliberately cruel to him. In the booth across from him, a young human couple were enjoying a late dinner. The woman was clearly pregnant; swollen belly aside, she was eating more than enough for two. He watched her take the brightly-coloured pickled vegetables from her partner's burger and add them to her own.

"You don't really like them, right?"

"I'm not sure I ever said that."

"You don't like them as much as I like them, though."

"I don't suppose I do."

"Baby's happy, so you can't be mad."

The young man laid a hand on his partner's belly and grinned at what must have been some impressive kicks.

"Happy indeed."

The galaxy was surely being deliberately cruel. Obi Wan had half a mind to leave. But Dex was back, sliding food into the bench.

"Eat! Drink! Be merry!"

He eyed Obi Wan with suspicion as he failed to meet the Besalisk's smile. After a moment's deliberation, he flung his enormous frame down to sit opposite Obi Wan.

"What's wrong, little peacekeeper?"

Obi Wan grimaced and bit into a chip.

"Honestly, Dex, I came here in the hopes that no one would ask me that."

Dex shrugged and helped himself to some of Obi Wan's food.

"I know you're not going to finish it all."

Obi Wan tried for a scowl.

"And how do you know that? Don't you remember the day I ate three nerfburgers consecutively?"

"But today you won't," the Besalisk intoned wisely, "because something is wrong."

Obi Wan sighed heavily and picked at his burger. Flo would surely be along any minute now, reminding Dex of something that needed doing in the kitchen. Perhaps something would catch fire and he'd rush off. Perhaps another sworn friend – Dex was surely friends with everyone – would come through the door.

Minutes passed. The Besalisk, who had by now taken the liberty of cutting Obi Wan's burger in half and claiming his own share, showed no intentions of leaving.

"My son is two years old today," Obi Wan said.

He couldn't have explained what in the stars had possessed him to say such a thing. Dex gave a slow nod and swallowed his mouthful of nerfburger.

"Didn't know you had a son."

Obi Wan smiled tightly.

"That's because I'm not allowed to."

Dex nodded appreciatively.

"Won't tell anyone."

And Obi Wan at last found a genuine, if not weary, smile.

"I know you won't, Dex. I trust you with my life."

"Don't see why you don't trust me to feed you, then," Dex grumbled without malice, pushing the plate back towards Obi Wan. "Come on. Eat!"

"It's not that I don't trust you, I'm just not especially hu-"

"Eat!"

Obi Wan took a grudging bite of the nerfburger.

The burger was phenomenal – better, if at all possible, than Dex's usual. For months, food had somehow been devoid of taste in Obi Wan's mouth but this seemed to wake him up again.

"Now drink your Jawa juice."

Obi Wan complied without protest.

"Good."

Obi Wan and Dex finished their respective burger halves in silence. Dex waved a hand in Flo's direction.

"Four more, thanks love!"

"Isn't four more a little exce-"

"Two each. Not excessive at all," Dex countered dismissively, taking another handful of chips. "Now. What's this about not seeing your son on his birthday?"

Obi Wan sighed, and let his head fall into his hand.

"I can't give him the… the time or consistency that he deserves. It's not fair to keep dipping in and out of his life, you know?"

Dex listened with mournful gaze but remained silent.

"It's not fair on him or his mother," Obi Wan sighed. "It's just been making matters worse. So I'm giving them some space."

Obi Wan speared some chips and salad onto the same fork.

"It doesn't feel right. I know it's not right. But I don't know what else to do."

"What did the Duchess suggest you do?" Dex asked.

Obi Wan snickered despite himself.

"Did Qui Gon tell you about that?"

"Might have," Dex shrugged with a sly grin. "You as good as told me yourself, in your quiet way. You came back from that trip all different."

It was Obi Wan's turn to shrug.

"I've messed it all up, Dex," he admitted. "We don't get along anymore. Not when it matters. She says that it has to get better or we're better off… quitting, I suppose."

Dex looked at him with doleful gaze.

"Now I'm sure she doesn't want that."

"I wouldn't be too sure, Dex," Obi Wan muttered. "I've not been good."

The Besalisk opened his mouth to protest but Obi Wan cut him off.

"I barely see him. He lives planets away. I fight with Satine. It's his second birthday and I'm not there. I don't even speak the blasted language he's always babbling in. I might as well be a stranger."

Dex tucked into his second burger.

"It's pretty simple then," he managed, through a mouthful of food. "You make it better."

"But I can't!" Obi Wan protested miserably. "I can't give them what I ought to. I am committed to years in the Order, I have a Padawan to train, I-"

"You should meet my friend Khan," Dex interrupted calmly. "He'll teach you Mando'a. Tick one of those failures off your list."

"It was a pleasure dancing with you this evening, your Grace."

Kor Viszla gave a deep bow. The medals of valour on his Peace Corps uniform winked in the ballroom light.

"It was a pleasure practising politics with you earlier today, Kor," Satine replied offhandedly.

She turned to the platter of drinks gliding past atop a service droid and selected something she hoped was potent.

"Unfortunately, I fear we have no future as dancing partners," she informed him. "You're rather too tall for me. My neck aches from looking at you."

Kor Viszla looked at her in utter stupefaction. Evidently, he hoped that she was joking.

Satine took a long sip of her drink. She was not joking.

"I look forward to our next political meeting, Kor," she bade him. "You are an honourable representative of your Clan."

She glided across the room to find a new dancing partner she could direct in Kor Vizsla's direction; it would not do to have him entirely sour at the night's conclusion. It was on nights like these that she inexplicably missed her tomboy sister – still her favourite ballroom partner she had ever had.

"Of all the men you've rejected, Kor's actually quite good-looking," Mariella remarked.

She eyed Satine with feigned disapproval as she held an irritable Korkie to her chest, patting his back in the hopes of settling him back into sleep. A friend of her revolutionary days, Mariella was one of few people who spoke to Satine with honesty and humour.

"Your foundling is old enough to sleep through the night," she added. "He's very poorly behaved."

"Correct on both counts," Satine agreed, sinking onto her bed. "Unfortunately, while Korkie can sleep through the night, he would much rather wake at party's end and hear the gossip. And Kor Viszla looks too much like my father."

Mariella snorted a laugh.

"I can't say I'm disappointed to hear it. You can do better than Kor."

Satine rolled her eyes as she tossed her shoes into the corner of the room.

"I have done better."

Mariella raised an interrogative brow.

"With this little one," Satine clarified innocently, rising to her feet and taking Korkie in her arms. "The love of my life, this child, and a terror besides."

She held Korkie snugly against her chest and collapsed back onto the bed with a great sigh.

"Why does everyone also expect me to juggle a man?"

Khan was a delicately-boned, too-tall-for-his-own-coordination sort of teenager with a head of silky blonde hair and long-fingered hands that flitted nervously at his datapad as he waited to meet this friend of Dex's. Obi Wan's first thought as he eyed the youth was that he would have passed easily for some cousin of Satine's – except that Satine had no living relatives asides from her sister and her son. His second thought that it was no wonder that this young man, with a frame that did not lend itself to the beloved Mandalorian pastime of pummelling each other, had come to study politics, as Dex had informed him, abroad on Coruscant. He would certainly be better suited to the New Mandalorian traditions of civil negotiations.

"Khan?"

"Ben?"

They nodded at each other and Obi Wan came to sit down opposite the young man.

"Thank you so much for this. I've been studying from texts but it's not the same as learning to speak."

"Thank you," Khan countered shyly. "I really need the money."

The men shared a laugh.

"It's tough, fending for yourself on Coruscant," Obi Wan sympathised. "You're studying?"

"Yes. Politics at the Elysium."

"Where your Duchess studied," Obi Wan remarked. "Congratulations."

Khan looked faintly surprised at Obi Wan's knowledge, but this quickly gave way to a flush in his cheeks and a shy smile.

"She's sort of my hero. I hope to work with her one day."

"A worthy hero," Obi Wan agreed, unable to help a smile.

If I ever get back in her good graces I can put in a good word for you.

"Why do you want to learn Mando'a?" Khan asked, remembering the task at hand. "What sort of conversation would you like to practice?"

Obi Wan gave a wry smile.

"I suppose… Casual conversation, really. Between friends. I want to learn it all but that's the place to start, I think, because… Well, in short, I'm in love."

Khan's eyes flashed with humour.

"With a Mandalorian?"

"Unfortunately so."

Khan snickered.

"Are they New Mandalorian, at least?"

"Yes," Obi Wan answered conservatively.

The woman in question was only the leader of New Mandalore, after all.

"They might deign to court an outsider, then," Khan informed him with a smirk. "Okay. So you said you've studied a little already?"

"I have spent a few months on Mandalore," Obi Wan affirmed. "And studied some texts that she sent me."

"Sounds like you're ready for some conversation, then."

Dex arrived in that moment with two trays stacked high with food.

"You need to put on some weight, the both of you!" he declared with a wicked grin.

Khan's cheeks flushed pink again.

"Dex has really looked after me," he confided, as the Besalisk waddled away. "I found it hard being away from home for the first time, with no friends and no money. But he always makes me feel better."

Obi Wan nodded in hearty agreement as he tucked into his nerfburger.

"Same for me."

Khan smiled.

"Shall we start our dinner date, Ben?"

"My sincerest thanks for an engaging and productive day of politics, my Lady," Ravan Kenn bade her, taking her hand and bowing elegantly. "I look forward to continuing our discussion at tonight's banquet."

Satine smiled wanly.

"Ah, the banquet. I'm afraid I cannot make it."

Ravan looked at her with poorly concealed suspicion.

"No, Duchess?"

"My foundling has an ear infection," Satine explained brusquely. "He kept me awake most of last night. It is my intention to eat presently and retire immediately to bed before the banquet should even begin."

It took Ravan a few moments to even find words.

"I am very sorry to hear it, Duchess. My best wishes to the foundling."

"The joys of parenting," Satine summarised, with a sweet smile. "I trust I'll see you at the next sitting of our Extended Parliament, Ravan."

As she turned and walked away Satine heard Ravan mutter something that sounded like Not likely. She did not bother to turn back and make him repeat himself; there was no sense in embarrassing the man. So long as he had the good sense to avoid all protracted personal conversation with her ongoing she was content.

"Is it perhaps time that Prince Korkaran came to sleep separately from your quarters, my Lady?" Almec broached, at conclusion of a lunchtime meeting.

Satine raised a brow.

"I thought that you advised me on matters of politics, Prime Minister, not parenting."

"Except that your parenting style has seemingly infringed on your ability to practice politics, my Lady."

Almec, who had known her since childhood, would on occasion challenge Satine in a way that few ministers dared. Satine kept him around in part for the amusement that such challenges provided.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Almec."

"Your failure to attend last night's banquet, my Lady."

Satine snorted her disapproval.

"A banquet is for eating, not for politics. I will go to bed if I wish."

"Representative Kenn was most disappointed by your non-attendance," Almec persisted.

Satine gave an easy smile.

"That is not such a tragedy, Prime Minister. He was pleased with the community law rights given to his Clan in the day's discussions. Let him be sad over dinner if he wishes."

Almec sighed, throwing down his pen.

"He is an excellent suitor, your Grace. As were the last ten you rejected."

Satine laughed.

"Oh, is that the issue at play? Forgive my obtuseness, Prime Minister. You really ought to speak more directly with me."

Almec glowered in the way that he once had when she and Bo-Katan broke fine glassware.

"Anyhow," Satine reasoned, "Ravan is clearly not a very compatible suitor if he is so easily dissuaded."

Almec scowled.

"You treated him with deliberate contempt, Duchess."

Satine made an affirmative noise.

"Indeed. I expect my rightful riduur to contend with such an insult."

A brief, flashing thought of Obi Wan in her mind. The way he smirked and stood close to her when they argued over things that did not matter.

"Prince Korkaran would do well to have a father figure in his life," Almec countered, gathering his items from the desk and standing to leave.

"It is not very courageous of you to insult me and run," Satine advised, with a smirk.

"I'm not insulting you, Duchess, I-"

"Mandalorians know system-wide that a child can be raised well by a single parent. Parents have been dying since the beginning of time. Korkaran is blessed with a loving village around him and he is growing to be a fine young child."

Satine's lips quirked into a smile.

"Even if he is presently an unruly strill most of the time."

"He is a delightful young strill, your Grace," Almec agreed. "Although disposed to spouting fantastical tales about his father who lives far away in the stars."

Satine grimaced this away.

"He is an orphan and yearns for parents, Almec," she rephrased curtly. "It is sad but inevitable. Trying to fill this yearning with a slapdash father figure is a pathetic solution."

She held the standing man with ferocious gaze.

"You have permission to run now, Prime Minister."

He hurried from the office and shut the door hastily behind him. Satine sighed as she stood up from her desk. All these men in her life were too easily defeated in argument.

With Khan, Obi Wan learned ba'jurir (raise children)and bes'laar (music), ca'tra (night sky)and copad (desire), dinui (gift)and dral (glowing). All of the pleasant words that he never heard in his time on Mandalore, when the few words he had managed to pick up pertained to battle. He learned gal'gala (let me get you a drink)and gar serim (you're right) for resolving conflicts. He learned to navigate bodies through gemas (hair) and haalas (chest) and kles (nose) and lalat (togue) and lovik (knee). He learned mesh'la (beautiful)and mirdala (intelligent), words through which he could make futile attempts at describing the mother of his son.

You've scraped your knee, he could tell Korkie.

Your hair is like starlight, he could tell Satine.

This family means more to me than anything, he could say.

Khan was an encouraging teacher and insisted that Obi Wan was charming, which he was sure he wasn't, but the friendship stuck fast nonetheless. Both young men managed to put some weight onto their lean frames. Dex visited at the conclusion of each lesson and demanded to be wooed by Obi Wan's new vocabulary. The compliments became more absurd by the day.

Your arms are as mighty as the trees in the forest, Dexter.

Your eyes are the colour of your cooking oil, Dexter.

Your nerfburgers are so good they give me pain in my chest, Dexter.

"I think our lovesick friend is ready to call his girlfriend, no?" Dex asked, as he swept the crumbs and splatters of grease from their table.

It was a winter's evening – for what it was worth, on climate-controlled Coruscant that only allowed a faint dip in its ambient temperature – and Obi Wan was now many weeks into his lessons.

"She can teach him the rest," Khan agreed.

Obi Wan gave a nervous grin.

"Tomorrow," he vowed.

Praise Dex! As you can maybe tell, I'm a firm believer that a good feed goes a long way to solving most problems. I'll be a very indulgent grandmother one day.

I hope you enjoyed Satine's smooth evasion of her many suitors - I wish I had half her composure.

Riduur = life-partner/spouse in Mando'a

Next chapter: Obi Wan plans to call Satine, but she beats him to it.

Thanks for all your reviews and support!

xx - S.