Chapter: Two: The Armored Warrior

Ch. Summary: Obi-Wan is old hat at heists with Hondo. This one however, is different.

A/N: While in canon Galidraan happened in 7933 CRC when Obi-Wan is 13, I've changed it to 7934 CRC when Obi-Wan is 14.

Obi-Wan had been traveling with the Hondo's pirate crew for a little over a year. During that time he'd learned how to shoot a blaster, how to cheat at sabacc, and to never get involved in a land war in Hutt Space. He'd also learned that it was shockingly easy to kill a being when they were trying to kill you back. Of course after his first kill, once the adrenaline wore off and he found a quiet corner, he'd promptly thrown up and cried for the sorrow and regret in the Force.

Killing became easier after that. Not because the act itself became less reprehensible to him, but because he realized that if he wanted to make it to his fourteenth birthday he couldn't afford to still hold to his Jedi ideals of pacifism and peaceful resolution. At least not while Hondo kept picking Hutt affiliated spice freighters and smugglers to knock over.

It had only taken one blaster bolt to the gut and two weeks of painful recovery for Obi-Wan to realize if someone was shooting at you, you should definitely be shooting back. Because they sure as shit weren't going to stop shooting long enough to talk it out.

In addition to discovering he was shockingly good at violence and crime, Obi-Wan also discovered that he soaked up languages like a sponge. He'd only been on the pirate ship for three months before he was almost completely verbally fluent in Sriluurian - the Weequay native language - and was serviceable in reading and writing it.

What he didn't realize as an initiate in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant was that there was a thriving black market on Jedi artifacts and texts. When he noticed Obi-Wan's interest, Hondo allowed him to claim any Jedi or Force related spoils as his cut of the profits. And after the third time Obi-Wan discovered a Sith or Dark side aligned artifact thrown indiscriminately in with the Jedi finds, he figured he might as well collect those too.

Though Obi-Wan was reluctant to admit it, it was all fascinating.

Not only was he learning that the Order had not always been so rigid and Code adhering as it was now, but that not all Dark side sects were like the Sith, thriving off death and betrayal and sadism. For example he'd never heard of the Witches of Dathomir until he'd found a ceremonial dagger that fairly glowed with a type of Force that was both Dark and Light and neither. He'd had to research its origins to learn it was made and used by a clan called the Night Sisters.

That was when he'd started his list. The list of places and peoples he was determined to visit and-or research so he could learn more about the Force. When he began the list he hadn't thought it would be particularly long, but over the time he'd been on the pirate ship it had gotten dauntingly lengthy.

It started with Jedha and the Guardians of the Whills went to the Bando Gora and continued on from there:

Dark Jedi

Moriband

Followers of Pilawa

Dathomir

Grey Jedi

The Fallanasi

Felucian Shaman

Tython

On and on the list continued, Obi-Wan didn't discriminate between Dark and Light side sects. At first he'd wanted to reject anything that even hinted at the Dark side of the Force in adherence to his temple upbringing, but a discordant clang in the Force stopped him before he could reject the first Sith text he'd come across.

He took the text as part of his portion of spoils then meditated for the rest of the day and well into the night, asking the Force why. Why didn't it want him to reject teachings of the Dark side? Why did it whisper at him to value this Sith text just as much as the Jedi texts he'd found?

The answer he got was not what he would have expected. It wasn't bad though. The opposite really. He hadn't realized until then that he'd been afraid he would stagnate in his abilities in the Force. That without the guidance of a Jedi Master he wouldn't ever be more than he was now, but the Force had presented him with another option. Arguably a better option. At least for him.

It wanted him to learn. Everything. It wanted him to learn everything he possibly could about the Force. Light, Dark, or something else altogether, the knowledge was precious regardless of where it came from.

But with this permission, the Force also offered caution. He may learn all he wanted, but using was another story. Be selective, was the directive Obi-Wan took away from the Force's message. Morality was all in how you used it after all.

A Jedi could drop a boulder on someone and kill them using the Light side of the Force. Was that act more forgivable because they didn't touch the Dark side?

Likewise a Sith could cure a village of a lethal plague using a Dark side healing technique. Were the lives saved less valuable because the cure didn't come from the Light side of the Force?

So with warnings and permissions and potential ringing in his ears, Obi-Wan gave himself a mission. To learn, grow, and become the strongest, most skilled Force-user he could be.

Just because he wasn't a Jedi any longer didn't mean he had to cut himself off from the Force.

And besides, if he didn't collect these artifacts where would they go? Into some uber rich being's private collection to gather dust. Or maybe the trophy room of a Hutt. Either way Obi-Wan would get much more use out of them.

So a year after hitching a ride with a group of Weequay pirates, Obi-Wan was just as skilled with a blaster as he was with his lightsaber. He could speak Sriluurian fluently and hold a conversation in Ryl and Huttese. He could lift a six person speeder with the Force without breaking a sweat and he could mind trick anyone that wasn't a Hutt or a Toydarian. And he had a trunk filled with Force artifacts from all across the galaxy, up to and including a corrupted kyber crystal and more than one holocron of indeterminate origin.

When Hondo came to the crew with their next job, Obi-Wan paid special attention.

"I have it on good authority that the Governor of Galidraan is an avid antiquities collector," Hondo said to a room full of his rowdy pirates and his little not-Jedi. "Sounds profitable does it not, men?" he asked with a greedy grin.

There was a round of affirmatives and Obi-Wan just nodded in agreement. There was an anticipatory feel in the Force. Something about Galidraan was raising the hairs on the back of Obi-Wan's neck. Not with foreboding necessarily, but urgency. It was insistent enough that he knew if Hondo hadn't already been plotting a course, he would have been bargaining for a small ship to make his own way to the small planet.

This should be interesting at least, Obi-Wan thought as he moved through the ship toward his quarters to meditate. Perhaps the Force had more to say before they got to their destination.

The first indication that this job was not going to go as planned was the fully armored Mandalorian sitting across from him at the sabacc table.

Hondo had scoped out the bar that most of the Governor's Mansion guards went to after hours. He also found out that many of them went to the backroom to play at the semi-illegal sabacc tables the bar's proprietor set up.

So naturally in the pursuit of information and profit, he sent in his best sabacc player. His little redheaded not-Jedi.

To say a bunch of drunk guards were a wealth of information would perhaps be an overstatement, but they sure did like to bad mouth their employer. That in itself was its own type of valuable intel. For one thing none of them were likely to be over eager to die to protect the Governor's vast collection of legally iffy antiques.

Over the two hours Obi-Wan had been playing sabacc (read: fleecing them all) he'd gathered a fair idea about the security measures on the mansion, the number of guards on duty at any one time, and the general location of the antiques vault. He also discovered that the Governor was as corrupt as the day is long and was double dealing in multiple areas. That he took bribes like they were going out of style and that he always panicked and started sweating when he had to take certain holocalls.

While that was all something to think about later, at the moment Obi-Wan was more concerned with the intimidating beskar covered warrior sitting directly across from him at the table.

Beskar armor, Obi-Wan had discovered through the course of the night, could muffle someone's Force presence. It couldn't obscure it completely, since in order to forge the iron into armor it had to be alloyed, but it did a really good job of keeping Obi-Wan from reading his opponent's intent much less his card hand.

When Hondo had realized he couldn't win a hand against Obi-Wan because plucking card images out of someone's mind was literally child's play to a Jedi, he'd flown them straight to the closest gambling planet and proceeded to use Obi-Wan's talents to devastatingly profitable effect. Needless to say, though the proprietors couldn't figure out how they were doing it, it became glaringly obvious there was some cheating involved. That commenced Obi-Wan's first strategic retreat preceded by blaster fire. Though certainly not his last, at least until he learned to intersperse his wins with strategic losses and folds.

Though he hadn't won every hand since he'd sat down at the table, Obi-Wan and the Mandalorian were the players with the largest pots in the game. He still couldn't get any images or strong emotions through the inscrutable face of the helmet. They were at the point of the night where most everyone at the table was drunk and were about ready to tap out after losing large portions of their paychecks. All except Obi-Wan and the Mandalorian.

Obi-Wan because while the bar owner was perfectly alright letting him play in an illegal game of sabacc, he drew the line at serving alcohol to minors, apparently. The Mandalorian because he hadn't once taken his helmet off the entire time he'd been playing.

"You two are way too intense," one of the guards grumbled as he had trouble keeping his eyes open, the alcohol definitely getting to him. "I'm out, man. You've drained me dry."

The other plays at the table all muttered agreement and cracked slurring jokes as the dealer droid waited patiently for everyone to decide on their moves.

"I fold," another guard declared tossing his cards on the table.

"Me too."

"Yeah, I'm out."

"My wife will kill me if I lose another paycheck."

Obi-Wan flicked his eyes between his cards and the armored being across from him. He could still only get a general sense of calm from the muffled almost staticky presence of the Mandalorian. Finally he tossed a small pile of credit chips into the pot in the middle of the table. "I raise you."

The Mandalorian being the only other player still in the game, tilted his head to one side. Now Obi-Wan could only get a vague sense of amusement and more of that calm.

A gauntleted hand shoved a pile of credits into the pot with a metallic, "I call."

"Please, show your cards," the dealer droid directed after.

Obi-Wan set his cards down with an almost challenging eyebrow. They were met with groans and murmurs of appreciation. It was a good hand. The best hand actually. The only hand better would be-

"That is a good hand," came the Mandalorian's vocorder filtered voice. His Basic had an unfamiliar accent considering Obi-Wan had never met a Mandalorian before, but by the tone it was obvious he was impressed by teen's hand. "But it's not better than full sabacc."

The Mandalorian's cards were set down and the folded players had a varied range of reactions. None of which Obi-Wan paid attention to because he was busy staring at the cards in surprise. That was the hardest hand to get and the fact that there hadn't even been a spike of adrenaline or nerves from the Mandalorian was beyond impressive. Even untrained as he was, Obi-Wan should have been able to detect even a hint of a shift from that infuriating calm the Mandalorian projected.

"Good game, kid," the Mandalorian said as he stacked up and collected his credits with quick efficient movements. "I'm done for the night."

The droid nodded. "The table is closed for the night anyway."

Obi-Wan was slow to collect his own winnings, not as large they could have been, but still nothing to sneeze at. At least Hondo would be pleased with the extra cash on top of the information he was able to collect.

The mansion guards were stumbling out of the room with drunken tiredness chatting and joking with each other, but the Mandalorian lingered until the droid had shut itself down at its charging station and Obi-Wan was the only one left.

Wary at being alone with the warrior, Obi-Wan kept his face an unpracticed mask of serenity like he'd observed from many of the Masters at the temple. "You are a good player, Sir. It was a good game."

The Mandalorian tipped his head to the side and studied the boy before him a tickle of curiosity escaping the shield of his armor. "What is a Jedi youngling doing in this part of the galaxy playing a backroom game of sabacc?"

The teen stiffened, but he kept his expression bland. "I'm sorry, but you're mistaken. I'm not a Jedi." And that wasn't even a lie.

"I may not be heavily touched by the Ka'ra(1), but I know a Force-user when I see one," the Mandalorian stated wryly. "Especially when he cheats at sabacc."

Face suddenly cold with how fast he'd paled, Obi-Wan tried to calm his racing heart. "I-I don't know what you mean."

There was a distinct impression of amusement and knowing from the armored being. "Relax, kid. I'm not going to rat you out. Your little tricks with the Force didn't hurt my winnings," he said with a gesture to his bulging credit pouch. "I'm just curious about what you're doing here," Obi-Wan relaxed a fraction until the older man continued, "and why you need to know the security and layout of the Governor's Mansion."

There was another throat tightening spike of fear, but Obi-Wan wrestled it under control with skill he learned in the middle of blaster fights. "That's none of your business," he declared with a glare and more confidence than he felt.

The Mandalorian shrugged. "You're not wrong. My job on the planet is just about done. I'm just curious what a baby Jedi is doing scoping out the Governor's Mansion for a heist is all."

Huffing in exasperation and still a little panic, Obi-Wan exclaimed, "I'm not a Jedi. And if you don't care then why are you even asking?"

There was a pause where the Mandalorian's few vague emotions in the Force shifted oddly, then he let out a metallic static sigh. "We don't know each other, kid, but it's kind of against my religion to leave a youngling in danger if I can help it. And while the Governor's guards are not the best they are still perfectly capable of killing you if you get caught."

That brought Obi-Wan up short. Vaguely he remembered learning something about the tenets of the Mandalorian Creed while in history class at the temple. He couldn't name all of them or even most of them, but he did remember that caring for children was like the most important one. His suspicion and wariness softened slightly. Even with the muffling effects of the man's armor, he could tell he was sincere in his concern. That in itself was surprising since Mandalorians were known for hating Jedi enough to wage wars against them. But maybe, Obi-Wan considered, being a "youngling" trumped Jedi in this Mandalorian's eyes at least.

He gave the Mandalorian a cautious smile after a long pause. "Thank you, Sir, but I'm not alone. I won't be in that much danger."

There was slight ghost of dubiousness from the warrior, but finally he nodded. "Alright, kid. Now, come on, I'll walk you out."

"Oh! You don't have to do that, Sir," Obi-Wan tried to protest, but the Mandalorian ignored him and just placed a gentle hand on his shoulder guiding him to the door out of the backroom.

"Humor me," the warrior ordered in a good-natured tone. "Let me at least walk you back to that saucer ship you and those Weequays showed up in."

Blinking wide eyes up at the Mandalorian, Obi-Wan's mouth dropped open in surprise. "What! How did you-?"

There was a glint of amusement in the Mandalorian's presence as well as his voice when he answered, "I'm the leader of my Supercommandos, kid. And when I'm working a job I like to know everything that's going on in my general vicinity. That and Weequays have a tendency to not to be all that subtle."

Obi-Wan couldn't help but snort at that. Hondo was many things, subtle was definitely not one of them. Still, "There's really no reason you have to walk me, Sir," he tried to protest again. "Hon- uh- my guardian doesn't usually leave me alone without a couple of his men around just in case."

The Mandalorian gave an acknowledging hum, but didn't remove his protective hand from the teen's shoulder. They'd made it through the dwindling crowd in the bar and were just about to step out of the door, when there was a commotion from behind them.

Stiffening, Obi-Wan was suddenly inundated with drunken anger and indignation in the Force.

"Hey! Hey, kid! Yeah, you!"

That was all the warning he got before his arm was grabbed and he was yanked around by a red faced guard. He stank of beer, he was sweating, and he was the one that had lost the most money over the course of the night, mostly to Obi-Wan.

"I want my money back, you little shit!" the man cursed, shaking his tight hold on Obi-Wan's arm. "You're a goddamned cheat. I know you are!"

On the edges of his awareness, Obi-Wan could feel Hondo and three of his men moving toward him at a hurried pace from the opposite side of the bar. He had his hand at the small of his back under his jacket were he'd hidden his lightsaber as the angry man gave him another violent shake. The pirates and Obi-Wan didn't get the chance to reach the scene or draw his weapon, because the Mandalorian beat them all to it.

"Give me my damn mon-"

"Let go of the boy and step back." The vocorder should have diluted the menace in the Mandalorian's tone, but the growled order made everyone within twenty feet freeze.

The drunken guard's eyes widened and his hand around Obi-Wan's arm spasmed in surprise and fear.

There was an ominous click of a blaster safety releasing. The teen flicked his eyes to the side to see the Mandalorian had a large and very lethally modified blaster held almost pointblank to his attacker's head.

"I said, let the boy go and step the kark back."

There was a tense silence then the man released Obi-Wan's arm abruptly. "Come on, Mando, I just wanted my money back," he tried to placate the violent warrior still pointing a weapon at him.

"Back up," the Mandalorian demanded again, his blaster aimed unwavering between the man's eyes now.

"Alright, Mando. I'm going." Valuing his life more than his money apparently, the drunk guard lifted his hands in surrender and hurriedly backed away then he turned and scurried off.

When he'd disappeared out of the other door into the night, the Mandalorian flicked the safety back on and holstered his blaster. "Go back to your drinks," he ordered to the still staring crowd. Wisely the bar's other patrons turned back to their own business, only a few more wary looks were shot toward the armored warrior looming over Obi-Wan's shoulder.

Turning to face his protector, Obi-Wan eyed the Mandalorian's expressionless t-visor thoughtfully. The Mandalorian for his part just tilted his head at the boy. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah," Obi-Wan answered, his voice a little raspy with the shock of the whole ordeal. Swallowing, he nodded to the warrior. "Thank you, Sir. I had it under control, but thank you."

There was a snort through the helmet's speakers and the Mandalorian put his hands on his hips. "This is why you don't leave younglings unattended in bars."

Mouth dropping open in indignation, Obi-Wan didn't get a chance to respond because Hondo had finally made it to them.

"I wouldn't leave my little good luck charm unattended, Mando," Hondo declared with a calculating, but genial smile on his face. "And I am insulted you would suggest such neglect on my part."

"No such thing as luck, Hondo," Obi-Wan muttered, but was ignored by the two adults that were eyeing each other over his head.

"Most would say that letting a Force-sensitive, redheaded youngling out of your sight at all was just asking for trouble," the Mandalorian commented pointedly.

Obi-Wan grumbled and scowled at that. One of the most annoying things he'd discovered while out in the galaxy was that young Force-sensitives and redheads were apparently prized in some slaver circles. As a young, Force-sensitive redhead, Obi-Wan had had to defend himself from three kidnapping attempts in the last year alone.

Hondo, having thwarted two other kidnapping attempts that Obi-Wan didn't even know about, just flashed his teeth at the Mando. "Ah, but this was just a little spat with a sore loser with too much alcohol and not enough brains. And my good luck charm wasn't wrong. He can defend himself when he needs to."

He would have been insulted that it seemed like the Mandalorian took Hondo's assurance more seriously than Obi-Wan's if being underestimated wasn't the whole point. That was why he wasn't wearing his customary blaster on his hip and had his lightsaber hidden under his jacket. Looking like a defenseless kid in over his head was an advantage in many places, especially at the sabacc tables.

The Mandalorian didn't respond for a long moment then he seemed to come to a decision. Turning to Obi-Wan he tipped his head down till the teen was looking into the t-visor as if meeting his eyes. "It seems like you're in good hands from here, kid. But if you ever get separated from your uh- guardian while on planet and need help, just find the True Mandalorian camp and ask for Jaster. I'll do what I can to help you out."

Taking the offer as the sincere expression of care and worry that it was, Obi-Wan didn't protest or argue. He just gave the Mandalorian a smile and nodded, "Thank you, Sir. For the offer and the help." He paused for a second debating then went with the light prodding from the Force. "My name is Obi-Wan, by the way."

The Mandalorian, Jaster, nodded his head and Obi-Wan got an echo of satisfaction and kindness before the warrior was once again concealed with his habitual calm. "Take care of yourself, Obi-Wan," he said by way of farewell and disappeared out of the door and into the night.

Obi-Wan watched after him for a long moment until Hondo's hand on his shoulder drew his attention away.

"Come, Obi-Wan," Hondo said and ushered the teen back toward the table his men had returned to. "Tell us what you learned and how much you won."

Obi-Wan sent one last look back in the direction the Mandalorian had gone and felt the Force give him a little chime. This wouldn't be the last time he saw Jaster, he thought as the Force rang with an indecipherable tale of anticipation. The Mandalorian would be important, he just had to be patient to find out how.

TBC...

1: Ka'ra – stars (another way of saying the Force), or the ancient council of fallen Mandalorian kings