Chapter: Sixteen: The Lost Artifact
Ch. Summary: Goodbyes are exchanged and Obi-Wan discovers something both old and powerful, in its own way.
It wasn't until Obi-Wan was already in space on his trip back to Mandalore that he finally remembered to examine the satchel he'd snatched from his bounty.
He'd gone back to the public space port to say goodbye to Quinlan and Aayla early that morning. It was a harder experience than he'd thought it would be. For one thing he felt a pang in his heart as he knelt down in front of the tiny little blue Twi'lek girl and explained that they had to part ways.
"Obwan not come, too?" she'd asked with a frown.
Lips twitched with the mispronunciation of his name, Obi-Wan gave her a gentle smile. "I have to return to my home now," he said in accented Ryl. "You're going to your new home. I lived there when I was your age and I liked it a lot."
"You did?" She shuffled on her feet hesitantly, her little hands tangled in the too long tunic she still borrowed from Quinlan. "Me like it, too?"
"Yeah, you will," Obi-Wan grinned at her, thinking of the vision he'd seen the previous evening. "I know, because you already have a friend." He gestured to Quinlan who was standing with them watching the interaction with a curious, but patient expression. "Quinlan is a very good friend to have."
Said teen's mouth twitched at the sound of his name, but he didn't interrupt. Even when Aayla tilted her head up to grin at him brightly.
"Me like Quin," Aayla declared confidently. "Quin my bestest friend."
Obi-Wan chuckled and nodded in agreement. "He's my best friend too. Do you think we can share him?"
Aayla took a moment to think that over very seriously before she finally magnanimously agreed. "Okay, we share him."
Watching the two of them giggle to each other, Quinlan was only slightly suspicious that he couldn't actually understand what they were saying. "What are you two gossiping about?" he asked.
Giving Aayla one last tight hug, Obi-Wan stood up and turned to Quinlan. "We were just discussing custody of our bestest friend."
Cheeks tinting in pleasure, Quinlan turned soft eyes down to a brightly smiling Aayla. "No need to fight, there's plenty of me to go around."
Obi-Wan and Quinlan grabbed each other in a tight, slightly painful hug. "Don't be a stranger, Obi," Quinlan ordered as he squeezed his long lost friend, his chin digging into the solid armor plates on his shoulder.
"I won't, I promise," Obi-Wan vowed as he released the older boy and took a step back. "Give my love to everyone. Especially Bant," he added with a grin.
"Thanks for that," Quinlan said as he gave him one last clap on the shoulder. "Maybe she won't murder me for being the first one to see you again."
"It's time to take off," Master Tholme said as he stepped out of the cockpit.
Turning to the Master Shadow, Obi-Wan gave him a respectful bow with his right first against his heart. A mix of Jedi and Mandalorian tradition.
"Thank you again, Master Tholme, for allowing me the reward and the Guild receipt."
"Thank you for doing the had part for us," Tholme returned wryly, offering his own bow of respect. "Have a safe trip back to Mandalore."
"May the Force be with you," Obi-Wan said. He gave Quinlan one last grin and Aayla one last pat on the head, before he pulled his mask-cowl back on and stepped off their ship.
There was still a pang in his chest as he watched Aayla disappear behind the Jedi ship's door, but there was also a whisper from the Force.
"A foundling is in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind... This is the Way."
The Force wasn't sentient in the way that it spoke like a flesh and blood being. But it would show images of the past and present, sometimes even the future, to get its message across. Obi-Wan felt the heat of a forge on his skin, smelled molten metal, and caught a glint of golden armor out of the corner of his eye. Whether this vision was the past, present, or future he didn't know, but he understood what it was trying to convey.
He'd given Aayla into the care of her own kind and now it was time to let her go on to her new life.
Now he was out of Corellia's atmosphere and speeding through space toward the Hydian Way to begin his trip back to Mandalore. He could take the Corellian Run, but that would take him into the deep Core and add almost a week to his travel time with the traffic from such densely grouped highly populated planets. It was better to take the day flying at sub-light toward the Hydian Way then connect to the Daragon Trail which takes him closest to Mandalore.
Locking his navigation and making sure his proximity alarms were all set and functional, Obi-Wan stood from the pilot's seat and made his way to the eating area. He hadn't had more than a ration bar before going to see Quinlan and Aayla off, so he was starving by now. Jaster said that was pretty normal for a growing human teen, so Obi-Wan wasn't too worried about his ravenous appetite.
Sitting down at the table in the eating area, Obi-Wan stuffed a spoonful of re-hydrated tiingilar into his mouth as he pulled his bounty's satchel toward him. The Force had been quiet about the satchel since he'd picked it up, so Obi-Wan really wasn't expecting the terrifying vision when he reached his hand into the bag and touched something smooth and cool.
There was an earth shaking roar, the heavy smell of reptile, and a blinding glint of sunlight off dark scales. He heard a shout of an ancient Mando'a call to battle, then pain and fury. He saw towering trees, felt loamy earth under his clawed feet, and he peeled his lips back to bare razor sharp fangs. Then there was another shout, the sound of drums, and a gray skinned being appeared with sharp almost diamond shaped features, bony ridges running over the top of their skull, and narrow glinting yellow eyes. The being brandished a long spear in their clawed hands then jumped at Obi-Wan with a look of determined violence slashed across their face.
Jerking his hand back out of the satchel, Obi-Wan jumped to his feet and almost tripped backwards as his knees got caught on the bench bolted to the floor. Collapsing back on his butt, the young man panted for breath and stared at the bag with wide eyes.
That, he thought slightly hysterically, was terrifying. The Force was quiet once more though so Obi-Wan took a moment to get his bearings. When he'd had visions previously he'd always been an observer. He'd never before taken the point of view of one of the subjects of the vision. And he hadn't even been witnessing this vision from the eyes of a sentient. He'd been an animal. A very, enormously large and hyper intelligent animal, but an animal nonetheless.
And that warrior, whoever they'd been was a sight to behold. He couldn't imagine attempted to face another like them in battle.
His breathing under control, Obi-Wan gingerly grabbed the satchel and tipped it open to dump its contents on the table. Leery of getting sucked into another vision he didn't want to touch anything inside it just yet.
With a clatter a number of things tumbled out. A credit pouch, a pack of death sticks, a spare blaster battery pack, a couple datachips. And a mask. A suspiciously Mandalorian looking mask. Eyeing it warily, Obi-Wan reached out and nudged it with his bare finger. When he wasn't swept away by the Force again, he gingerly picked it up and bought it closer for a look.
It was surprisingly weighty for not being made of metal. Whatever the mask was made of had an almost golden sheen to it, but Obi-Wan thought the texture was suspiciously bone or horn like. It had a visor reminiscent of the popular "T" shape, though the arms angled more upward than the traditional straight horizontal Mandalorian design and the ends of the stem and arms were tapered almost to a point. Aesthetically it had concentric lines carved in the surface leading out from the visor and two circular symbols etched into the brow.
The symbols looked familiar, but Obi-Wan couldn't place where he'd seen the barbs and circle design before. Turning the mask over, he was curious to realized that there was no technology built into the mask at all. Holding it up to the light he realized that the dark transparent material over the visor was actual tinted glass.
There were rivets on either side of the inside of the mask with what looked to be the remnants of leather straps still attached. Presumably, that was how the wearer would secure it in place, Obi-Wan guessed.
Like a curious, easily distracted teenager, Obi-Wan promptly held the mask up to his face.
"Gedetir par kyr'am! Mando'ade tengaanar adenn!(1)" Beg for death! Mandalorians show no mercy!
The frightened face of a soldier in white armor with red detailing, an Old Republic insignia on their pauldron. In a splash of blood and viscera they fall under the bone blade of a battle ax.
Tossing the mask away, Obi-Wan cursed a blue streak and scowled at it furiously. He'd never had two visions in such rapid succession, both caused by the same catalyst. And make no mistake the mask was definitely the catalyst. He knew now what it was he'd found in that satchel.
He knew what that first vision had been depicting. It was a giant Mythosaur being slain by Mandalore the First. The Taung that conquered the planet of Mandalore from its titanic sized reptilian inhabitants. The first Mand'alor that carved this very mask from the sternum bone of the first Mythosaur ever killed.
And the second vision, Obi-Wan could only assume it was a scene from one of the many, many battles and wars the various Mand'alore waged against the Old Republic.
This was the Mandalore's Mask. Troan be Mand'alor(2). The original symbol of rule in Mandalorian history, this Mask was what rallied the clans together and kept Mandalore's people united. It had gone missing over two millennia ago and until Tarre Vizsla succeeded in uniting the clans and the Darksaber became the new symbol of rule, Mandalore had been divided and warring against itself. Like it was warring against itself now.
This was a genuine piece of priceless Mandalorian history. And it was just sitting in a karking bounty's satchel bag.
"Well," Obi-Wan muttered to himself slightly disgruntled as he continued to stare at the deceptively inert mask where it had landed half propped on the pack of death sticks, "at least I know why the Force wanted me to choose this hunt."
He'd thought perhaps the Force had been leading him to Aayla, to help her, but Quinlan and Master Tholme had shown up too soon after he'd gotten there. They would have found and saved her just fine without his help. No, helping her had just been a wonderful bonus. It was the Mask that the Force had been pointing him toward.
But for what purpose? Obi-Wan could think of several. Other than the massive cultural value of the Mask, if Jaster claimed ownership, it would go a very long way to cutting Tor Vizsla's claim to Mandalore off at the knees, not to mention the New Mandalorians. Was that what the Force intended when it put Obi-Wan on the path to rediscovering it?
So far the violent, terrifying visions he'd gotten from the thing were not super encouraging, but then again what item of Mandalorian history wasn't going to have a bloody past. None, that was the answer. Not even the Darksaber, nominally a Jedi weapon, was exempt from the consequences of having a warrior culture of origin.
Either way, Obi-Wan wasn't going to figure any of this out now. And truthfully he didn't even think it was his right to make such a judgment. This was the Troan be Mand'alor and it belonged to the Mand'alor. It belonged to Jaster.
Nodding to himself, Obi-Wan grabbed the satchel and gingerly scooped the mask back into it. He was not touching that with his bare skin again any time soon. Stowing the bag in his sleeping quarters, Obi-Wan came back into the eating area and collapsed back on the bench at the table. He pulled his bowl of space ration tiingilar back to him and scooped up one of the datachips scattered among the other miscellaneous things that had been in the satchel.
Plugging it into his datapad, Obi-Wan settled down to idly poke around in his bounty's business for entertainment during the hopefully uneventful trip back home. He resolved not to think about the Mask again until he was landing in the hangar at the palace and it would no longer be his problem.
Jaster was trying to get his mind back on work, but his mind kept wandering to the strange call he'd received from Coruscant a few days ago. Well, more like Yoda had received, though it came through the palace channel.
Apparently, not only had Obi-Wan discovered that his bounty was involved in sentient trafficking, but he'd also had a confrontation with a Jedi special operative and reunited with an old friend.
When he'd heard this vague sequence of events, Jaster could only rub his palm down his face. Only him, he thought hysterically, only he could find the two most trouble prone boys in the galaxy and adopt them. On Jango's verd'goten he'd ended up stumbling upon an assassination attempt and saving a young princess from her power hungry uncle. That had been a pain in the ass to help clean up, so at least Obi-Wan seems to have been able to resolve this latest debacle on his own.
Though watching that vein in Master Windu, the Master of the Jedi Order's forehead throb as he relayed the story to Yoda had been entertaining.
Especially when Yoda had eyed his young, fiercely scowling second in command and declared, "Loosen up, you should, Master Windu. Cause that vein to burst, too much stress will."
Jaster's fairly sure he'd never seen a being with skin that dark turn quite that shade of purple before.
Though the details had been sparse it was evident that there had been a misunderstanding of some sort that resulted in a lightsaber fight between his youngest son and a Jedi Shadow at least twenty years his senior. The fight had only been halted when the Jedi's padawan had recognized Obi-Wan's voice and attempted to step between their blades. The whole situation, for all that it seems to have been relatively easy to fix, could have ended so very much worse.
Jaster had been kept up that night with images of his fiery son being decapitated by a Jedi, of Obi-Wan killing the Jedi and living the rest of his life with that crippling guilt. Of Obi-Wan's friend dying on his blade and that killing Obi-Wan's spirit just as assuredly.
But everyone had lived, the child they'd found was being taken care of, and Obi-Wan apparently completed his verd'goten successfully. Now Jaster just had to patiently wait for his son to come home so he could hug him and smack him upside the head alternately for worrying him.
His office door burst open to reveal Jango with a bright grin on his face. "Air traffic control just reported, Obi'ika's ship is entering atmosphere."
Jumping up from his seat Jaster hurried after his oldest son as they jogged through the palace toward the hangar.
Unsurprisingly, Master Yoda was already there when they stepped out of he palace.
"Enter the atmosphere, I felt Obi-Wan," the small being said by way of explanation. Jaster didn't comment since he knew the old master was just as eager to see Obi-Wan as he was.
The ship touched down gently and the engines began shutting down, various other systems powering down as well as the mechanics stepped forward to begin their checks and inspections. Eventually the ship's ramp opened and Obi-Wan stepped out.
He was wearing his armor, though his masked cowl was hooked on his belt. And he'd painted it while he was gone, Jaster thought curiously as he eyed the color choice and design. White for new beginnings, light brown for loyalty and plain brown for valor, orange for lust for life and blue for reliability. Good choices, though Jaster wondered if the design being vaguely reminiscent to Jedi robes was on purpose or not. As the boy got closer the red Clan Mereel insignia and the brown Haat Mando'ade insignia were visible on his pauldrons.
They made Jaster's heart warm and his chest swell with pride.
"Buir!" Obi-Wan grinned brightly and wrapped his arms around Jaster in a tight embrace that almost pushed the air from the older man's lungs.
Chuckling, Jaster returned the hug just as hard and planted a smacking kiss on his son's temple relishing in the grumble the action garnered him. "Welcome home, ad'ika. I trust you didn't run into much trouble."
Pulling back, Obi-Wan hit his adopted father with an innocent smile and mischievous eyes. "Of course not, Jas'bu."
"Obi'ika!" Jango tackled his little brother and Obi-Wan let out a squawk that faded into a laugh as the two boys half wrestled half embraced.
"Gah! Jango, lay off!" Obi-Wan yelped as they stumbled around, dropping his duffle and another bag off his shoulder. "You big oaf!"
"Shut up, Obi-Wan, and let me hug you!"
"You're not trying to hug me, you di'kut!"
"Alright, that's enough boys!" Jaster called over the raucous his sons were kicking up. They separated with flushed faces and wide grins.
Obi-Wan then stepped forward and went down to his knee in front of his teacher.
"Pleased I am, to see you returned safe," Yoda said as he placed a clawed green hand on his student's white painted armored shoulder.
Eyes gleaming a happy blue-green, Obi-Wan ducked his head. "Thank you, Master Yoda."
"Successful, your hunt was? Guide you well, the Force did?" the small master asked with a knowing glint in his green-brown eyes.
The boy scoffed and rolled his eyes in a display of irreverence Jaster was not expecting. "Oh, it guided me alright. Well is a relative term."
Then he yelped as the old master's walking stick struck him across the ankle where his armor didn't fully cover. "Respect, you should show. Question the Force, not our place."
Pouting, Obi-Wan rubbed at his smarting ankle, but he nodded chastised. "Sorry, Master."
"Hmph." Yoda eyed him for a moment longer then tapped his stick on the ground. "Come. Eager to hear this story, we all are. Surprising, something tells me, this hunt was."
"You could say that," Obi-Wan muttered, as he grabbed his bags again and let Yoda hop up onto his shoulder.
Jango raised an eyebrow at Jaster who just shrugged. He was just as puzzled by the interaction as his son. Though, Yoda was right about one thing. Jaster was sure this story was going to be full of surprises.
While listening to Obi-Wan tell them how the progression of the his hunt unfolded was interesting, the revelation of Force-sensitive sentient trafficking was disturbing, and the quick but brutal duel against a fully trained Jedi secret operative was harrowing, it was the last little revelation that brought everything to a halt. Obi-Wan reached into a bag and pulled out a golden colored ancient looking Mandalorian style mask handing it to Jaster with very little preamble.
"I'm sorry, I just hallucinated," Jango rasped following a long moment of coughing after he inhaled his shig down the wrong pipe. "I could have sworn you just said you found that," he gestured wildly to the mask, "the karking Troan be Mand'alor in your bounty's backpack."
"Satchel, actually," Obi-Wan corrected, eyeing his brother with a half amused half annoyed look.
"That's not the important part of that sentence, Obi-Wan!"
"Obi-Wan," Jaster cut in before Obi-Wan could provoke Jango into having some kind of a meltdown. His hands were shaking as he held the bone mask in his palms. "Are you serious about this? Are you sure that this is the Mandalore's Mask?"
The teen hesitated for a moment, but not because he was unsure. His eyes flicked down to the mask and he grimaced as he answered. "I'm sure, Buir," Obi-Wan assured almost reluctantly. "It gave me two Force-visions that confirm it."
"Two Force-visions," Master Yoda spoke up for the first time since Obi-Wan pulled the Mask out into the open. "Describe them, can you?"
Sighing, Obi-Wan ran his hand through his shaggy red hair. "The first one I had when I first touched it before I even laid eyes on it. It was from the point of view of a Mythosaur. I saw what I later realized was a Taung warrior attacking me with a long spear. The second vision I had when I held the mask up to my face. I saw the point of view of a Mando'ad, presumably a Mand'alor, killing an Old Republic soldier with a battle ax."
Jaster felt his heart pound heavily in his chest. He didn't know if it was excitement for the implications of these visions or fear for what having these visions means for Obi-Wan. Because though he knew very little about the ways of the Force even he could tell that having two visions induced by the same object in such quick succession was unusual.
Yoda hummed at this. "Visions you have had before," the old master said considering. "Catalyzed by touch, have they ever been?"
"No, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan shook his head. "I don't think I have psychometry. I surely would have experienced something like this before."
"What is psychometry?" Jango asked, voice returned to normal and demeanor once again calm.
"It's the ability to see or sense the memories of beings by touching objects they've touched," the younger teen explained. "Like if I touched your ibeskad/i and I saw a vision of the last time you sparred with it."
"And that's never happened to you before?" His older brother frowned with angry concern.
"No," Obi-Wan shrugged confused though not overly worried it seemed. "And if I had psychometry I would have seen my bounty's memories of the last time he touched the mask, not memories from the animal whose bones it was made out of or an ancient Mand'alor that wore it into battle."
"Entirely true, that is not," Yoda spoke up then. "Very strong, a psychometric must be, to see more than the most surface level impressions, but possible it is to train oneself to delve deeper."
"You said train," Jaster pointed out. "Obi-Wan hasn't trained for it and it sounds like he very much didn't seek out these visions purposefully."
"No," the old master agreed, but like Obi-Wan he didn't seem particularly alarmed by this development. "Seek out these visions, Obi-Wan did not, but experience them, he needed to. The Force, always a reason there is, for its actions."
By the wrinkle of Obi-Wan's nose it was clear the boy wasn't exactly happy with this assertion. "But why did I need to see them?"
"So, know the truth, you would," Yoda answered plainly. "Know exactly what it is, that found, you did."
The sitting room was quiet for a moment after that. All four occupants mulling over this new information. Finally Obi-Wan turned to Jaster with curious blue-green eyes.
"What are you going to do with it, Buir?"
"What am I?" Jaster repeated taken aback. "It's yours, Obi'ika. You're the one that found it."
Obi-Wan held up a hand when the older man tried to offer the Mask back to him. "No, Jaster," he said voice serious and unwavering. "It was not meant for me. It is the Face of the Mand'alor. It belongs to the rightful ruler of all Mando'ade."
He gave his wide-eyed father a crooked almost mischievous smile. "It belongs to you, Mand'alor Mereel."
"He's right, Buir." Jaster turned his head toward Jango who was looking at him with an earnest, but determined expression on his face. "Whoever wears the Mask can unite the clans, or," he shrugged a little sardonically, "that's how the legends always go. You're the Mand'alor, the ruler of our people. It is your right to wear the Mask."
Turning his eyes back down to the heavy, golden hued, bone mask in his hands, Jaster just stared into the dark visor for a long moment. Could he do it? Could he wear the Mask as a symbol of his right to rule? Would any of the clans that still refused to follow him even believe the Mask still had meaning when the Darksaber served the same purpose and much more recently in their history?
He didn't know, but as he looked from the Mask to the determined, proud, and confident expressions on his sons' faces, Jaster knew. If it united Mandalore for the first time in almost a millennia and brought peace between his people, it was at least worth a try.
Obi-Wan had been back from his verd'goten for a week and had not truly resumed his lessons with Yoda as they'd been before. They continued to meditate and spar, but their academic and Force theory based lessons had devolved into something more like vigorous discussions over shig.
Yoda had just finished outlining the different shielding techniques the Jedi Shadows employed after Obi-Wan had mentioned that the reason he'd fought against Master Tholme so hard was because he couldn't get a read on him or his intentions at all. There was a lull in the conversation and Obi-Wan eyed the old master across from him.
"You're leaving soon, aren't you, Master Yoda?"
Lowering his cup of shig to the table, Yoda regarded his frowning student. "Much more I can teach you, there is not."
"That's not true," Obi-Wan argued. "There's no way I've learned everything you can teach me in just a few months."
"Not much more I can teach you, if a Jedi you are not," Yoda amended with a pointed look.
Flushing, Obi-Wan accepted the gentle rebuke, turning his eyes down to his shig.
Yoda reached across the table and placed a small, clawed hand over his. "Strong foundations, I have given you," he said when the teen raised his gaze to meet his. "Infinitely more there is to learn out in the galaxy, for you." There was a knowing gleam in his eyes as he added, "Many things I cannot teach, you wish to learn, as well."
The not so subtle reference to Obi-Wan's interest in the Dark side and the many other Force sects out there in the galaxy hammered home Yoda's point. That didn't mean he felt he was ready for the old master to leave him yet.
"What if I'm not ready for you to leave yet, Master?"
There was a mildly disapproving hum at that. "Ready, you have been, my student. Want? No, want my absence, you do not." He met Obi-Wan's eyes sternly. "But let me go, you must."
Grimacing, Obi-Wan turned his head away, but Yoda squeeze his hand hard demanding his attention.
"Selfish, it would be, to ask me to stay. Possessive of me, you would become. My duties as a Jedi, I could not perform. Abandon the temple and all who need me, I would." His brow was creased in a very forbidding frown. "Attachment that is, unhealthy and suffocating. Not the Jedi way, it is. No longer Yoda, would I be, if stayed with you, I did."
Scowling, Obi-Wan tried to ignore the tight feeling his throat. "I'm not a Jedi," he retorted, though weak and useless he knew that argument to be, "I'm allowed attachments."
Yoda hummed at that. "But a sentient being, you are. Kind and caring and generous, my young Obi-Wan is," he declared drawing a tentative look from the boy. "Wish me to suffer, you would never. And suffer I would, if abandon the Order, I did."
Finally there was a hitch to Obi-Wan's breathing and the boy bit his lip hard. The old master was right of course. Not only would Obi-Wan never want to hurt Yoda that way, but if Yoda stayed willingly he would not be the amazing Jedi Master that Obi-Wan respected and loved so much.
"I'm sorry, Master Yoda," he said voice raspy and strangled. "I'm just going to miss you."
"Miss you, I will as well, my young student," Yoda said with a gentle smile now softening his face. "But fear, you should not. Always will I answer, if for help you should call."
Obi-Wan felt a fraction of the weight in his chest lighten. "Only if I need help?" he asked.
"Hmm." Yoda tilted his head as if thinking that over, but the glint in his eyes made Obi-Wan's lips begin to curl. "Perhaps, a regular holocall, I will demand, to check if feeding you enough, the Mando'ade are."
Chuckling, voice a little strained still, Obi-Wan grinned at the old master. "Of course, Master. At least once a month, I'll give you a call."
Yoda blew a raspberry at that and released Obi-Wan's hand to wave dismissively. "Busy, your life will be, my young student," he declared, confidently. "Every few months, is all I will expect."
"Very well," Obi-Wan finally allowed himself to breathe out the sadness and fear he'd held inside him when he realized that his time with Master Yoda was quickly drawing to a close. "Maybe, we'll meet again in person sometime in the future," he added hopefully, but not particularly expectantly.
To his surprise though, there was a knowing gleam in Yoda's eyes as the small master smiled at him. "See each other again, we will, Obi-Wan," he said in his pebbly voice. "After all, admit I must, that attached I am, to each of my brilliant students. And one of my most special students, you certainly are."
It was another week before Yoda was truly set to return to Coruscant. That week was filled with recording Yoda's memories from his previous visit to Manda'yaim and many of the other planets in Mandalore's sector. He described the cities, the forests, the rivers that actually once flowed along the surface of the planet. He spoke about the style of armor and clothes the people wore, how they interacted with each other and outsiders. What the palace looked like, how large and intricate the great feasts were that they held there.
When it became apparent that he had a photographic memory, an artist was found and Yoda spent a couple days describing the scenery and people and architecture that he'd seen. He even spoke with enough detail about the Mand'alor's ceremonial Mythosaur bone armor that the artist was able to create renditions of it from several different angles.
After being nearly brought to tears by the intricacy and life-like quality of the artwork, Jaster asked why Yoda was going to all this effort to help preserve the Mando'ad culture.
Yoda simply looked at the Mand'alor and said, "Correct you were, when like parent and child you proclaimed masters and padawans to be. Obi-Wan, like my child, he has become. And Mando'ad my child is. Preserve my child's people, I will, as much as I can."
They'd reached an understanding then, two beings that both loved Obi-Wan. Jaster silently promised Yoda he'd care for and protect Obi-Wan with his life. Yoda silently promised swift and painful retribution should he willfully fail.
Then after Yoda's memories were exhausted and his things were packed, Obi-Wan was the only one to see him off. Jaster, Jango, the Goran, Instructor Helios, and several other Mando'ade that had gotten to know the venerable master having attended the farewell feast for him the night before.
Kneeling before his teacher for perhaps the last time, Obi-Wan threw decorum to the wind and pulled the small green master into a tight hug. Yoda let out a smothered squawk in surprise, but after only a momentary pause wrapped his arms around his young student's shoulders in return.
"Care for you deeply, I do, Obi-Wan," Yoda confessed as he stroked clawed fingers through the boy's shaggy red hair. "Miss you greatly, I will."
Obi-Wan buried his face in the master's shoulder and inhaled the scent of spicy cooking herbs and the waterfalls in the temple gardens. "I love you, too, Master Yoda."
The ancient master's breath hitched before he wrestled his wild emotions under control and gently pulled away from the embrace.
"A great warrior, you will become, Obi-Wan, a great Mando'ad," he said as he cradled the teen's freckled cheek in his wrinkled green hand. "But remember, you must, that always a part of your soul, Jedi it will be."
Nodding solemnly, Obi-Wan gave Yoda teary smile. "I will, Master Yoda. I won't forget where I came from."
The ancient master stared deep into his student's eyes with a heavy thoughtful expression. "Foresee, I do, that soon, another teacher you will have."
"Another teacher?" Obi-Wan frowned, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Yoda hummed and dropped his hand taking a step back toward his little ship. "Teach you of the Jedi, I did, of the Light side of the Force," he said, with a contemplative gleam in his eyes. "Learn of the Force you must, and Dark the Force is also."
Biting his lip, Obi-Wan accepted the master's words though his stomach twisted nervously with the implications. Standing he said, "I won't turn away any who honestly wish to teach me."
Yoda gave an approving throaty hum. "Wise that is, my young student. Now, go I must. An ulcer, Master Windu will have, if take over my duties much longer, he does."
Chuckling at that, Obi-Wan called one last farewell, as the small master nimbly hopped up into his ship. The door closed behind him, the engines started and soon the ship was lifting off and disappearing through the atmosphere.
Obi-Wan stayed staring after it until he felt Yoda's massive blinding presence in the Force blink out as he went into hyperspace. While the Grand Master's last prediction was somewhat troubling, Obi-Wan didn't feel any warning or alarm in the Force when he prodded at it for clarification. No, all he felt was anticipation and satisfaction that he was still on the right path. Sighing, he decided he'd meet any new and potentially dangerous circumstances as they came and not a moment before.
Turning away he headed back inside the palace to join Jaster and Jango for breakfast. Sharing a meal with his family still hadn't worn off its joyful novelty and Obi-Wan secretly hoped it never did.
TBC...
1: Gedetir par kyr'am! Mando'ade tengaanar adenn! - Beg for death! Mandalorians show no mercy!
2: Troan be Mand'alor – The Face of the Mand'alor