Chapter: Fourteen: The Hunt

Ch. Summary: Obi-Wan becomes a true Mandalorian and sets off on a coming of age quest.

The throne room was quiet when the ceremony started. Only the Mand'alor, Ven'Alor, the Goran, the council of Clan Leaders, and an assortment of other young Mando'ade were in attendance. Well, them and the ancient little green Jedi Master the Mand'alor allowed to live in his palace.

When word spread of an actual trained Jedi being in the palace for an indeterminate period of time there had been a flurry of mixed feelings through the Haat Mando'ade.

Many didn't approve and wanted the enemy sorcerer gone, others didn't care either way, and the rest asked around and discovered that the strange creature was here to teach the Ad'Alor. When that little tidbit of gossip made the rounds the naysayers were silenced. After all, it was common knowledge around Keldabe that it was near impossible to deny the Mand'alor's Obi-Wan anything when the boy turned those big hopeful blue-green eyes on you.

And if Mando'ade were anything it was indulgent of their children.

So the tiny old Jedi Master's presence on Manda'yaim and in the palace became relatively accepted if grudgingly. And because Mandalorians were the biggest gossips in the galaxy it seemed, when it became apparent the Jedi was assisting the Goran with designing Obi-Wan's armor and the beskad instructor, Helios, with his training, the little being's existence was looked upon more favorably.

The Jedi Master, Yoda, was standing near the dais next to the Goran as the small audience waited for Obi-Wan to enter the throne room. Jango and Jaster were standing at the foot of the steps up to the throne and both had proud expressions on their faces when the young man – no longer a boy – stepped through the doors and made his way confidently toward them.

This would be the first time his full suit of beskar'gam was seen in public. And it was sight to see. The articulated plates of his brigandine, pauldrons, and gauntlets, the modified gorget, the long tabard, the simplistic but elegant vambraces. It was all so different from what the Mando'ade were used to, but no one could deny that it fit Obi-Wan. Even though the armor was all an unpainted gleaming silver, there was the air of an ancient warrior walking in their midst.

The image was not in the least diminished by the morning star pommel on his kad'au clipped to his belt at his right hip, the traditionally designed beskad in its scabbard on his left hip, and his blaster strapped to his left thigh.

Those in the audience with a touch of the Ka'ra could hear the distant singing of the stars as he strode toward the Mand'alor. When the young man stopped before their king, he went to one knee and the universe went quiet in anticipation.

Mand'alor Jaster Mereel looked upon the young warrior before him and the glint of pride in his eyes was plain for all to see.

"Why do you come before me today, warrior?" he asked in Mando'a, the words filling up the throne room.

Lifting his head from where he'd had it bowed, Obi-Wan replied in fluent Concord Dawn Mando'a, "I've come to swear the Resol'nare and become a Mandalorian in deed as well as heart."

Lips curling in a restrained smile, Jaster nodded regally. "We will witness your vow of the six actions of our creed."

Obi-Wan licked his lips nervously for a second, but his expression was determined and confident when he began to speak.

"I will wear my armor as our great ancestors did before us," he recited the traditional first vow.

"I will speak our language for it is the spirit of our people."

"I will defend myself and my family with all the fury and vengeance of the ancient Mythosaur."

"I will cherish anychild given into my care and teach them what it means to be Mandalorian, because they are the future."

"I will contribute in any way I can to my clan welfare. Our clan is our survival, our survival is our strength."

"When the Mand'alor calls me to arms, I will rally to their cause, for they are the might and the heart of the Mandalorian people."

As his words echoed and faded in the throne room Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat when he became aware of the rhythmic drum beats sounding in the Force. The chanting of countless voices reciting the words of the Resol'nare along with him and the imperceptible tremor in the stone floor below him like hundreds of thousands of armored warriors marching to war.

Then it was quiet again and Obi-Wan was able to breathe. He looked into Jaster's bright brown eyes and older man held out a hand. "You have sworn to the Creed of the Mandalore. Now I will place your helmet over your face for yours is now the face of every Mandalorian."

With slightly trembling fingers, Obi-Wan reached to the right side of his belt where his helmet had been clipped next to his lightsaber. It was not a traditional helmet and the sight of it sent a whispering twitter through the audience.

Obi-Wan's helmet was actually a mask. One that had the traditional distinctive t-visor and the cheek ridges that hearkened back to the Mando'ade's Taung ancestors. Attached to the mask was a chain mail cowl that extended down to protect the throat and back of the neck where the gorget didn't cover. What the observing Mando'ade didn't know was the reason for this choice in armor design.

Besides chain mail being much more flexible than a helmet allowing Obi-Wan full range of motion of his neck and shoulders. It also didn't cut him off from the Force the way a full beskar helmet would. For a normal Force-sensitive Mando'ad the Force muffling properties of beskar wouldn't be much of a problem, but for Obi-Wan who'd been taught since infancy to rely on his perception of the Force it would amount to blinding him. So not only had the Goran fashioned him a mask and chain mail cowl instead of a helmet, they'd also forged both from a cortosis-beskar alloy.

The energy conducting properties of cortosis canceled out the Force blocking effect of beskar, while the near indestructible beskar would make up for the brittle quality of the cortosis. Not only would a lightsaber not be able to cut through the mail, but blaster bolts would disperse as well.

The only thing truly compromised by this design was impact protection. A Mando'ad with a solid beskar helmet could hit a duracrete wall headfirst and the duracrete would crack, Obi-Wan would have no such protection. However the risk was mitigated a bit by the durasteel woven fabric padding and lining the mask and cowl.

Like the rest of his armor the mask and chain mail were unpainted and the bright metal glinted in the lights of throne room when Obi-Wan handed the head piece to Jaster. Bowing his head, Obi-Wan felt the Force's anticipation glide down his spine almost making him shiver.

The chain mail clinked together as Jaster held the neck open and slipped it easily over his youngest son's head. Lifting his head, the mask settled comfortably against Obi-Wan's face. The mail was tailored to be as form fitting as possible and it fell to the top of the gorget's foundation piece covering all previously exposed skin.

The Mand'alor looked down at his son and gave him a smile. "Stand, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Clan Mereel. You are now a true Mandalorian."

Rising gracefully to his feet, Obi-Wan placed a fist over his heart in a gesture of respect. "Thank you, Mand'alor. I will bring pride and honor to our people."

Then there was a deafening clamor as the witnessing Mando'ade stomped their feet and knocked fists on their chests in a warrior's applause. Obi-Wan was the only Mando'ad in the room that heard the war drums in the Force underneath the cacophony.

The Goran stepped forward then and the room fell quiet again.

"Now you will choose a hunt to complete as your verd'goten," they said as they pulled out three pucks from a pocket in their belt. "Completion of this hunt will signify to all that you are an adult and capable of fully accepting the responsibilities of the six actions of the Resol'nare."

Truthfully a verd'goten could be anything, a bounty hunt, an item retrieval, completion of a mission or task, even an animal hunt. It depended on the circumstances and abilities of the individual Mando'ad. For example a Mando'ad that was planning on becoming a history teacher wouldn't be tasked with a bounty hunt.

Obi-Wan had expressed a wish to help people, partially to honor his raising as a Jedi, so the Goran had decided hunting a criminal bounty was representative of that.

Staring at the three bounty pucks in the Armorer's gloved hand Obi-Wan was about to just pick one at random when the Force gave a pointed chime in his ear. Pausing with his hand hovering over the pucks, Obi-Wan listened to the whispers. He'd been following the advice and Will of the Force for the last three years and it hadn't steered him wrong yet. So, he picked up the puck on the right and the Force let out a purr, the war drums much more distant than they had been, but still present to Obi-Wan's hearing.

Nodding in satisfaction, the iGoran/i put the other two pucks away. "Good hunting."

"Oya!" Obi-Wan replied, his cheer echoed by more than a few Mando'ade watching.

Then the ceremony was over and the throne room was filled with the noise of conversation and movement once again.

"I'm proud of you, son," Jaster said as he placed a hand on Obi-Wan's armored shoulder.

Ducking his head, his shy expression hidden by the mask, Obi-Wan easily responded, "Thanks, Buir."

"Well you didn't fall on your face or trip over your tongue," Jango commented feigning surprise. Then he broke the act when Obi-Wan scolded him and punched him in the shoulder. "Just kidding, vod'ika!" he protested with a laugh shoving back at his adopted brother. "You did good, Obi-Wan."

Rolling his eyes behind his visor, Obi-Wan gave a small chuckle as well. "Thanks, Jango."

Throwing his arm across the younger man's shoulders, Jango grinned in the face of his brother's t-visor. "It's time to celebrate. Buir requested the palace cooks make a feast just for you and there is much eating and drinking to be had."

"Ne'tra gal only, no tihaar," Jaster warned the two boys now involved in a pseudo-wrestling match. "Obi-Wan's hunt starts tomorrow. He doesn't need to be hungover for it."

"Aw, you're no fun, Buir," Jango complained good-naturedly even as he attempted to get his brother in a headlock.

Jaster just rolled his eyes at the two boys. "Quit messing around, Obi-Wan needs to accept some congratulations before he can head to the feast."

Wrestling match halted, Jango wandered off to find his friends leaving Obi-Wan to stumble his way through short conversations with the Clan Leaders. Thankfully, Mandalorians were a pragmatic bunch so the line of well wishes didn't last long. Soon it was just Obi-Wan and Yoda still lingering in the throne room. Even Jaster had left, being called away for one thing or another.

Still a little unpracticed at taking off his armor, Obi-Wan tipped his head forward and clumsily pulled his mask and cowl off. His shaggy red hair was messy and falling in his face, so the teen blew a few locks out of his eyes.

"Well, you did," Yoda complimented when the boy had clipped his cowl back to his belt.

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan bowed his head and shifted on his feet. "It felt right," he said with a thoughtful expression. "It felt like I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing."

Yoda hummed in agreement. "Heard the Force singing, I did. Much like your Mando'ad kyber crystal, it sounded."

"Do you think that could have been what the Mando'ade call the Manda?" the boy asked curiously. "The spirit of every Mando'ad that is already marching far away."

"Perhaps," Yoda conceded with a small almost mischievous smile. "Much about the Force, we do not know. Entirely possible, it is, that the Council of Fallen Kings, the voices in the Force were."

The thought made another shiver travel up Obi-Wan's spine. He was confused as well. He couldn't possibly be so special that the Mand'alore of the past themselves would be witness to his swearing the Resol'nare.

"Know, none of us do, how important in the fabric of the Force, we are," Yoda said with a lightly scolding tone when he caught a hint Obi-Wan's doubt. "Even the smallest of lives, great importance they could carry. Or the largest of lives, kings and emperors and chancellors, of little consequence they could be in the Force's vision."

Accepting the scolding humbly, Obi-Wan knew that Yoda was right, but that didn't stop him from feeling apprehensive. He was after all just a sixteen year-old ex-Jedi Mandalorian. Conventional wisdom would say that he wasn't all that pivotal to the progression of history. The Force wasn't conventional though, so with a sigh Obi-Wan resigned himself to the possibility of having an interesting life ahead of him.

"Expression of dread, you should not have." Yoda prodded at his leg with the end of his gimer stick. "Your destiny, today it will not come. The beginning of your new life, we must celebrate now."

Wincing as the deceptively pointy end of the Jedi Master's walking stick hit him where his shin and knee guard didn't cover, Obi-Wan duly shared his anxiety and concern about the future with the Force.

"Have you ever been to a Mandalorian feast before, Master?" Sinking to one knee again, the teen offered his shoulder to the aged master.

Nimbly, the small creature hopped from the ground, to the young man's knee, then his shoulder. "When visiting Manda'yaim last, a wedding feast I attended. Seriously, the Mando'ade take their parties."

Raising an eyebrow as he straightened up, Obi-Wan headed toward the doors and from there toward the great dining hall. "What happened?"

"A drinking contest, I entered," Yoda said completely nonchalantly. "Never before or since, quite that drunk have I been."

Jerking his head to look at the old master perched on his shoulder, Obi-Wan gaped incredulously. "Master Yoda!"

"Much younger, I was then," the master claimed, by all appearances rueful. If one had never seen that particular gleam in his eye before. "My liquor, I could better hold."

Eyeing Yoda's innocent expression suspiciously, Obi-Wan offered, "I'm sure the Mando'ade respected you for the attempt at least."

There was a glint of sharp teeth as Yoda grinned down at his student. "Win the contest, I did," he declared with the beginnings of a giggle. "The Mandalorians, under the table, I drank them."

As they stepped into the great hall, Obi-Wan's shocked sputtering and Yoda's gleeful cackles drew bewildered looks from the already celebrating Mando'ade.

The next morning, Obi-Wan stepped out into the palace hangar to the sight of his older brother sitting slumped on a crate of spare ship parts. Sighing, he made his way over and kicked at Jango's boot.

Jerking in surprise, Jango straightened up and groaned holding his head then his stomach. "How are you not miserable right now?" he demanded of his bright eyed little brother. "You were at the feast just as long as I was."

"I didn't challenge Master Yoda to a drinking contest," Obi-Wan answered dryly, a smirk curling at his lips as he watched his brother blanch.

"Don't remind me," Jango moaned and smothered an unpleasant sounding burp. "Who'd have thought the little troll could drink so much. He's like two feet tall!"

"I told you not to underestimate him." He didn't have much sympathy for the other young man's plight since he had specifically told Jango not to try matching Yoda drink for drink.

Jango exclaimed, "I thought you were just worried about his health! He's freaking ancient, it made sense."

"Appearances, deceiving they can be, hmm," came Yoda's pebbly voice as he and Jaster made their way toward the two young man. "Perhaps, in future, make wagers based on opponents' age and size, you should not."

His student's older sibling just shot him a baleful look and Yoda flashed him a sharp toothed grin.

Jaster covered a laugh with a cough earning himself a glare from his older son as well. "You were warned, Jango. You are the one that didn't heed your brother's words."

Rolling his eyes, Jango pushed himself to his feet. "Whatever, let's do this thing."

A bubble of nervousness appeared in Obi-Wan stomach then, but he took a breath and shared it with the Force.

"You'll be fine," Jaster assured him seeing his already fair son pale. "You're a formidable warrior and an intelligent young man. I have no doubt you will succeed."

Obi-Wan didn't respond, just let his adopted father wrap him up in his arms for a quick hard embrace.

"Give me a hug, you di'kut," Jango demanded when they separated. Obi-Wan chuckled and let his older brother yank him into a back pounding hug. "You run into a problem, you comm me immediately," Jango murmured into his ear. "I mean it. I'll be on a ship before we disconnect."

Grinning with warmth, Obi-Wan just nodded against his shoulder. "Thanks, Jango."

Scoffing off the thanks, Jango broke the embrace and squeezed his little brother's shoulder before letting go. "Oya, vod'ika!"

"Oya!" Obi-Wan returned with a determined look.

"An interest, I feel, the Force has in your verd'goten," Yoda said when Obi-Wan knelt to his level. He placed a clawed hand on the boy's armored shoulder. "Faith, I have, that exceed our expectations, you will. But," he continued when Obi-Wan's eyes darkened with anxiety, "remember you must, for us your verd'goten is not. Your journey and experience, it is."

Nodding in acceptance of the assurance and the reminder, Obi-Wan stood again and grabbed his duffle off the floor of the hangar where he'd dropped it.

Jaster put on a hand on his shoulder for a final word of encouragement. "When you return you will be a warrior in title, but remember that you are already a warrior in deed."

Chest filled with warmth and nerves and love for his family, both Mando'ad and Jedi, Obi-Wan turned away and strode determinedly toward the hunter ship already prepped for him. This would be the first time he'd ever gone out into the galaxy completely by himself, and by the feeling of the interested eyes of the Force on him, Obi-Wan was sure it would definitely be eventful.

The bounty puck the Force had pointed him toward was not anything special at first glance. Not at second or third glance either. The bounty was what criminals might call a finder, a procurer of items. Legal, illegal, dangerous, eccentric, it didn't matter, this guy could source it for you. In the criminal underworld they were highly prized so rarely did bounties get put on their heads by other criminals.

And the True Mandalorian bounty hunters didn't take bounties that were not lawfully posted. Obi-Wan was working this hunt under the True Mandalorian Supercommando Co.'s Bounty Hunter Guild membership, so either way the bounty he was hunting would have to be totally above board.

It looked like the bounty, a middle aged male human variant, had gotten caught pulling a heist on a Core world and law enforcement had posted the bounty. The Core took their robberies seriously so the bounty was fairly high. The guy didn't get away with much so he must have just really pissed off the owner of the private collection he'd raided.

As Obi-Wan skimmed through the provided profile included on the puck, he saw that the guy liked to gamble. That he liked to mix business and pleasure apparently since one of his better known ports of call was Canto Bight, a casino city that was known to cater to the lawful rich as well as the criminal rich. Deciding that would be his first stop, Obi-Wan wondered if he'd have time to get in a sabacc game or two. If he turned in the bounty before he left the planet he could enter into one of the high roller games with the reward and double his winnings.

Unfortunately, a week later, when Obi-Wan had finished following leads in Canto Bight, it became apparent that his target was not in fact hiding out here. A smarter move than Obi-Wan had given the guy credit for.

The young man spent another two weeks planet hopping following leads and occasionally a light prodding from the Force.

He'd been hunting his query for almost a month when he'd finally gotten a good lead to Corellia. Obi-Wan used his True Mandalorian Guild clearance to land on planet without having to go through customs. Shutting his ship down once he'd parked in the Guild contracted hangar, Obi-Wan paused to listen. The Force was like a Nabooian bee in his ear, buzzing eagerly. Hopefully that was a good sign and his hunt was almost over.

Pulling his cowl over his head, Obi-Wan adjusted the mask to sit right on his face then locked the closures around the neck sealing the mail to the gorget. With the lining and other environmental tech in his cowl his mask would be air tight enough to filter out airborne toxins, but he couldn't go space walking in it. Which he didn't plan on doing any way, so it wouldn't be an issue.

During the hours in hyperspace flying from planet to planet, Obi-Wan had decided how he wanted to paint his armor. What designs and colors represented him best.

His brigandine was no longer solid unpainted silver, Obi-Wan had painted a thick "V" of loyalty light brown down his chest from his shoulders to his belly. The color continued down the inside half of his thigh and shin guards as well. His gorget, pauldrons, and gauntlets were white for new beginnings, along with the outside half of his shin and thigh pieces. His vambraces had stripes of lust for life orange outlined in reliability blue down the sides.

The only insignias he wanted to paint on his armor went on his pauldrons. The Clan Mereel crest on his left shoulder in red to honor his adopted father, and the ancient Mythosaur skull on his right in valor brown.

His mask he had debated not painting at all, but finally decided on outlining his t-visor in white with valor brown layered under the white on the underside of the t-visor arms and down both sides of the visor stem as well as underside of the cheek ridges.

The over all effect of his armor was much less intimidating than some paint jobs he'd seen, but the jarring distinctiveness of his mask and cowl made up for the relatively benign color scheme. By the second planet after he'd finished the painting, he'd gotten used to the double takes and wide-eyed looks. So when he stepped out of the ship and onto Corellia he ignored the whispering and pointing his appearance garnered.

He'd learned over the last month that the best place to get information on his target was to head to the bar closest to the public space port. Which he did and which got him a list of motels and hostels the bartender had given his bounty the week prior.

Passing along a handful of credits for the tip, Obi-Wan pulled up a map of the city on his heads-up-display in his mask and headed for the closest motel.

And low and behold when the being manning the front desk was questioned they indicated that there was indeed a guest that matched the bounty's description. Obi-Wan got a room number then did a mind trick on the front desk clerk to conceal his presence in the motel.

Since this was the type of establishment that catered to no questions asked clientele Obi-Wan mentally prepared himself for anything as he climbed the stairs toward the third floor where his target roomed. The Force had been whispering since he'd landed so he was prepared for this hunt to abruptly go KUBAR.

Stretching his senses out he confirmed that there was a being in the motel room. He couldn't tell if it was his bounty, their presence in the Force was strangely muted, had an almost contained quality to it, but he knew there was only one.

Taking a step back, Obi-Wan drew his blaster, took a deep steadying breath, and kicked the door in. Perhaps he put a little too much strength behind the kick because the door turned out to be really flimsy. Where his boot hit there was a dent and the lock on the door had practically shattered under the force.

Storming into the room in the wake of his admittedly dramatic entrance, Obi-Wan kept his blaster raised and ready as he followed the read out on the HUD in his mask. At first glance there was no one in the room, but the sensors in his armor were picking up a heartbeat. Looking toward the corner where his display said the heartbeat originated from, Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow in doubt.

It was a small closet, more of a pantry really, and it was definitely not large enough for his six foot tall, two hundred pound criminal to hide inside.

Cautiously, Obi-Wan walked toward the closet. He moved to the side, reached for the handle and jerked the door open in an intentionally startling move. Darting forward, Obi-Wan aimed his blaster at the being huddling in the closet and froze in shock.

Hurriedly jerking his blaster up to point at the ceiling, Obi-Wan gaped at sight before him. Well, that's definitely not my bounty, the teen thought incredulously.

It was a child. A Twi'lek child with dirty blue skin, grungy rags, and large scared eyes. Judging by the short length of her lekku and the cone shaped organs on the sides of her head, the kid was female and a toddler. She was thin, too, much too thin for a child young enough to still have baby fat.

The tiny little girl whimpered in fear and shrank further back into the cage she was kept it. A cage, Obi-Wan registered with a blank sort of realization. A cage small enough to shove into a pantry sized closet. With a great strength of will, he shared his horror, fury, and fear with the Force.

Holstering his blaster, Obi-Wan crouched down in front of the closet and tried to make himself seem as nonthreatening as possible. A feat considering he was in full armor.

"Hello there," he called in a low soothing voice. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He'd opted for a vocorder that would transmit his voice as faithfully as possible and he was thankful for it. The situation was frightening enough as it was, he didn't need to be terrifying the kid with a booming intimidating modulated voice.

There was a confused frown on the little girl's brow and she tightened her arms around her knees pulled tight to her chest. Her eyes were still visible though, so Obi-Wan knew she was at least paying attention to him. When he didn't get any other kind of response, something occurred to him and he could have smacked himself for not thinking of it earlier.

"Greetings, little one," he said in accented Ryl, thankful he'd continued learning the language once he'd gotten to Manda'yaim. "I will not harm you."

Sure enough, the girl lifted her head fully, her eyes wide now with surprise and a little bit of hope.

"My name is Obi-Wan," he said placing a hand on his chest in demonstration now that he could see the entirety of her thin dirt smudged face. "What's your name?"

There was a long pause as the child stared at the visor of his mask with cautious hesitation. Finally, she apparently decided he must not be all that bad because she answered if only in barely above a whisper.

"Me Aayla," she said, the words clumsy like she was still learning how to speak. It made Obi-Wan's stomach twist. "I's three," she added shyly and held up three tiny fingers.

"Hello, Aayla," he returned making sure his smile was audible in his voice. Obi-Wan figured the tone was more important than the visual. "How about I get you out of that cage?"

Slowly, telegraphing his movements, he pulled a lock-pick set out of one of the pockets on his belt and reached for the heavy padlock keeping the cage secure. It took a matter of seconds, when the lock popped open Aayla startled and squeaked, but she didn't curl back in on herself. Tossing the padlock away, Obi-Wan pulled the cage open and held out a hand to the little girl.

"Come on, little one. Take my hand and we can get you out of here."

It took a long tense moment, but eventually Aayla slowly lowered her knees from her chest and leaned forward to cautiously take his offered hand. Her fingers were so small they only just wrapped around his, though her skin was warm when it brushed where his finger-less gloves didn't cover. Gently curling his hand around hers Obi-Wan guided her out of the cage.

When she finally stepped out and straightened up to her full height, which was shorter than Yoda, Obi-Wan saw the reason her presence in the Force was so muted. There locked around her neck was a Force suppressing collar.

"Kriff," he cursed lowly, then hummed a pleasant sound when Aayla jumped at the harsh word and turned wide eyes on him. "It's alright, dear one. I'm going to get you out of here."

Internally he was angry. There hadn't been anything in his mark's profile about sentient trafficking. And not just any trafficking, but Force-sensitive trafficking. Not only was little Aayla a Twi'lek, a people that are prized by slavers for their inherent beauty and gracefulness, but she was Force-sensitive too. She was wearing Rylothian clothes, so at least Obi-Wan could be reasonably sure she wasn't abducted from the Jedi Temple, but that brought up a myriad of other unpleasant scenarios for how she ended up here.

Unfortunately, though Obi-Wan wanted nothing more than to take that collar off her, without knowing how long she'd been wearing it, she could get sick or fall unconscious with the return of her sense of the Force. It would have to wait until they were not in a potentially hostile situation.

And no sooner had he thought that, then he heard the sound of footsteps down the hall. Cursing quietly, Obi-Wan gently grabbed Aayla by the shoulders and guided her toward the dilapidated bed in the other corner of the room.

"You need to hide," he told her when she made a noise of confusion and fear. "Be really quiet and stay under there until I tell you." With a little nod to indicated Aayla at least thought she understood what Obi-Wan told her, she crawled under the bed and curled up against the wall.

Quickly moving toward the entrance, Obi-Wan slid into the shadow of the door just as his bounty burst into the room with his blaster drawn.

In a flash, Obi-Wan brought his gauntleted fist down on the bounty's blaster arm. The criminal gave a curse as he dropped the weapon, but attempted to elbow his attacker in the chest. Unluckily for him, Obi-Wan's beskar didn't yield the way flesh and bone would. There was another much more pained curse.

Darting in, Obi-Wan punched his mark in the face and there was an audible crunch of bone. Stumbling away from the attack the bounty dropped the bag he was carrying and moved further into the room. He attempted to pull a vibro knife, but Obi-Wan caught that wrist in a crushing grip and delivered three more devastating bone cracking punches in quick succession.

The fight was over in a matter of seconds and the bounty dropped to the floor unconscious, bleeding, and much more worse for the wear.

Perhaps he didn't have to go that hard at him, Obi-Wan considered as he pulled his magnetic cuffs from his belt and kicked the criminal over onto his belly before wrenching his arms back to secure his wrists. Yeah, he could have been gentler, but this asshole had kidnapped a little girl. He deserved the permanently crooked nose and much more.

After patting the bounty down and divesting him of anything dangerous and/or interesting, Obi-Wan called to Aayla, "You can come out now. It's safe."

Tentatively, the little girl stuck her head out from under the bed and when she saw the danger was completely neutralized, she crawled free.

She scowled down at Obi-Wan's bounty with a half scared half angry expression. It was very adorable on her little blue face. "iHe mean man."

Chuckling, Obi-Wan nodded agreeably. "Yes, he is. Now, come on, let's get this lekku-less gutkurr's ass to the Guild outpost."

Apparently she knew enough of her own language to know that Obi-Wan had said a bad-word phrase because she stared at him and gasped in a childishly exaggerated shock. Grinning behind his mask at the expression on her face, Obi-Wan held out his hand to her again. She took a step toward him to grab his fingers again, but she froze and her eyes widened in alarm.

That was all the warning he got before there was the sound of a lightsaber igniting and Obi-Wan was moving. He spun on his heel and had his saber up and lit just in time to block a powerful downward swing by his surprise attacker's green plasma blade.

He hadn't even felt the being coming in the Force, Obi-Wan thought as he shoved off the attack and took quick steps back and away to get some distance. Thankfully Aayla had hurriedly disappeared back under the bed the second their blades had clashed. Dropping into a Makashi guard stance, Obi-Wan waiting for another attack.

Though expecting his opponent to attack again immediately, they didn't. They were staring at Obi-Wan's blue-violet blade in alarm before their green eyes narrowed in anger. It was long enough for Obi-Wan to register that his attacker was an older human male with gray tinting his black hair and a jagged scar bisecting one eye.

"Where did you get that lightsaber, Mando?" the man growled at him, moving into a Djem So attack stance.

Scowl unseen, Obi-Wan eyed the man's smuggler style clothing, his unkempt hair, and his rugged scarred face. "None of your business," he growled back.

"It is if you killed a Jedi for it," the man retorted through bared teeth.

Slightly puzzled by that reply, Obi-Wan tried to expand his awareness in the Force to get a read on him. Still nothing, it was like he wasn't even there. It occurred to him that this stranger could be using some sort of mental Force-shielding, he could be a dark-sider, he wielded that lightsaber well enough to have been trained. That didn't explain what he was doing here, though. The possibility that this man was part of the trafficking ring his bounty was obviously working with was not reassuring.

"You're one to talk," Obi-Wan shot back just to see how he'd react. "Last I checked slavers didn't carry lightsabers."

"Neither do Mandalorians." Then he attacked again and Obi-Wan was forced to dodge.

The motel room was really too small for a full blown lightsaber duel and that was not including the still unconscious criminal taking up floor space or the fact that Obi-Wan tried to keep his back to the bed where his little companion was still hiding.

"I don't care about the criminal, Mando," the man grunted as they traded parries and thrusts. "Just leave the child and I'll let you keep the bounty and the lightsaber."

Fury rose up inside him and Obi-Wan hit the man with a flurry of blows that had him hurriedly back stepping. The presumed slaver met him hit for hit and returned them with equal intensity if not emotion.

"Over your dead body, you demagolka slaver scum!" Obi-Wan cursed at him and attacked hard and fast, aiming to at least dismember if not incapacitate.

The slaver was just able to parry and attack in equally lightning fast moves when another being suddenly burst into the room in a flurry of shouts and windmilling arms hurtling toward the two fighters.

"Wait! Stop! Don't kill him!"

With a startled curse the slaver pulled back and Obi-Wan took the opportunity to dart backward returning to his guard position in front of the bed. He didn't turn to the newcomer though, he kept his eyes on the lightsaber wielding fighter.

"I told you to stay downstairs," the man growled as the shorter being panted slightly from the adrenaline rush of stepping between two lightsabers.

"You knew I wasn't going to listen, Master," the newcomer said with feigned nonchalance, given that violence still hung heavily in the air.

The sound of his voice caught Obi-Wan's attention though. Now that he wasn't fighting for his life and his little companion's freedom, he turned his attention to the second intruder. He blinked in shock and almost dropped his guard.

It had been over three years, but despite the longer dreadlocks, the broader shoulders, and the extra near foot in height, Obi-Wan would recognize that dark skinned, yellow striped teenager anywhere.

Realizing that the Mandalorian was staring at him, the other teen swallowed thickly and shifted nervously on his feet. If he was wrong then this could go very badly for him and his master. His master because he'd have to continue fighting a freaking Mandalorian and him because his master was going to kill him if his hunch didn't pay off.

"Hey, Mando, um- this might sound weird, but you don't happen to be my best buddy, Obi-Wan Kenobi, do you?"

Jerking his head toward his padawan in shock, the now presumed Jedi Master was this close to attacking again to protect his idiot student when a strangled sound came from the strange Mandalorian.

"Quinlan Vos," the Mando said, incredulity coloring his voice, "What the kriff are you doing here?"

TBC...