The Force does not dwell within this one, nor is the aquatranssexual canon of my making.

Okay, as most of you already know

I have a new Beta reader to check my stories for small mistakes! His name Michael (I think you will find there are far fewer mistakes in this chapter than normal, despite its size. Please give him a round of applause for his work. I would also like to give a shout out to Hiryo for giving me a SW canon villain that could possibly match Ranma one on one. I won't be introducing him yet, but he will start skulking around soon. I will also give MilandaAnza credit for another idea that I use in this chapter, and might continue to use going forward. She'll know what I'm talking about, heh.

Chapter 12: Talks, Training, and Sundry Alarums


Obi-Wan was neither pleased nor impressed at present as he dodged around yet another swaying drunkard moving his way through the large hills of uncollected trash and garbage. By the Force, this planet is a cesspit! I had thought Gargon, of all the planets in this sector, could possibly be an example of what good has come to it since the Excision, but it isn't.

Having arrived as a passenger on a freight hauler bringing in food, he had arrived on Gargon two days ago as a relative unknown, only the captain knowing he was there at all. Obi-Wan had used his Force Cloak to disappear from everyone's interest after paying his way. This had allowed him to disappear into anonymity after leaving the ship with relative ease, and this in turn had allowed him to get away from the planet's port to see what the rest of the planet was like.

However, Obi-Wan couldn't keep Force Cloak up forever, and he had let it fade when he began to move among the populace, seeing no need to hide further. After all, with his lightsaber covered he was just a random man in a cloak, and given the local weather, which was currently pouring rain, he fit right in. Force Cloak would have kept people from seeing me, after all, but in a crowd like this that would be counterproductive. Not that it wouldn't have its benefits...

As Obi-Wan thought that, he twitched one hand back slightly to smack a hand away from his pocket. Turning quickly, he raised an eyebrow under the cover of his hood to look at the elderly man who had just tried to pickpocket him, who was staring at him like an herbivore caught in a hover car's headlights. "Aren't you supposed to run away after you've tried and failed to pickpocket someone?"

The man behind him stood there with his hand outstretched for another second. Then he blinked and rapidly backed away quickly before running off at Obi-Wan's look. All around them other people went about their business, ignoring the little drama. That suited Obi-Wan down to the ground at the present moment.

For several more moments Obi-Wan moved around the city before he noticed a growing feeling of danger through the Force. He noticed that one or two of the locals seemed to be watching him. A second later he moved towards two large piles of trash, moving between them. Behind him he heard the movement of several other people moving towards him now, and Obi-Wan frowned. Covering himself in his Force Cloak, Obi-Wan wedged himself into a small area between one of the mountains of trash bags and a wall.

Once there he tried to ignore the rather overwhelming smell and the words in Republic standard by one side of his head saying that someone named Sarah gave great head. Using the Force the smell was easy to deal with by shutting down his body's sense of smell, but the words were harder to deal with since graffiti was something Obi-Wan had never understood the point of. Does the public truly need to know this? I think not. What is it with graffiti anyway? I mean, why does the need to write on public walls carry over to most humanoid races? Out of everything else that could become commonplace, why graffiti?

Thankfully, at that moment Obi-Wan's pondering of that mystery of the universe ended as voices reached him. "Where did he go?"

"How the kriff am I supposed to know? He walked between these two piles; did anyone see him duck out?"

"Don't be an idiot; he was within sight of us all when he entered. He must've gone down the alleyway!"

"That alleyway's a dead end! Anyone can see that."

"Maybe he took to the roofs? Isn't there an emergency ladder there or something?"

The voices went away for a moment, then came back disgruntled that there wasn't, and it really was a dead end. "How the hell did he give us the slip! Dammit, that off worlder looked strong and durable. He would've fetched a great price with the mine supervisors."

Obi-Wan felt one of his eyebrows rise in interest and moved out from his hiding space to begin following the group. He observed them throughout the rest of the day while they met up with their higher-ups before then switching to following said higher-ups. He wasn't good enough at Force Cloak to cover his presence entirely when he was alone, not like Tholme or Quinlan Vos were known to do, but he was able to redirect attention away from himself to other people, and it worked well enough here. The boss ran his operation from a strip club, rather cliché if Obi-Wan had been asked for his opinion, but it served his purposes at the moment.

Late that night he left the club with a lot of the other stragglers and hangers-on before quickly making his way across the city and up onto the rooftops of one of the larger buildings. There he sat staring out over the city, frowning even as he centered himself in the Force.

It was an oddly shaped city: a series of concentric circles of cheap hab dwellings and expensive office towers. It was a hive, almost: several different levels of construction built up around several strip mines. Most of the mines here had been worked out centuries ago, but many of the businesses were still here even if the miners had been moved on to another city.

While this was the first city outside of the spaceport Obi-Wan had seen, it was more than enough given what he had overheard locals. Local gangs supposedly ran the strip mines, but Obi-Wan got the impression they all worked for the corporations that actually sold phobium to the rest of the Republic. And even in a city like this one where the mines had been worked out, the gangs still ruled the streets.

There was little to no government or overarching organization, hence the trash issue. Indeed, from where he was standing Obi-Wan could see down into one of the worked out strip mines where several layers of trash seemed to have filled it to around halfway up its side.

The only reasons this particular city still existed were that some of the corporate buildings were still in use and of course there were those too poor to move away, who the gangs preyed upon. The corporate buildings were self-sustaining with their own securities, sometimes droids, sometimes people, and their people never went outside except under armed escort. And the poor… Well, apparently no one on this planet cared what happened to the poor, another fact of existence that was all too prevalent in the galaxy.

Making his way back from that city to the spaceport, Obi-Wan shook his head sadly. The port itself was decent. It was almost up to Core World standards of cleanliness and modernity and was well-organized. There was of course some violence and quite a bit of vice, but that was normal in any port, and the government was well represented in terms of customs official, security officers and workers. The utter lack of governmental control outside of the port, however, meant that the government was at best a tool for the gangs, or rather the corporations, or was simply powerless and knew not to rock the boat.

And of course they have not asked the Republic for aid. Indeed, they have gone out of their way to seem as if they are a viable planetary government. I wonder if that senator that was here last, Ms'kass of the Thesme Sector I think his name was, was bought off or simply duped?

Luckily for Obi-Wan's state of mind, transportation between this planet and the Mandalorian system was actually pretty regular. There were several civilian transport vessels plying the space ways between the two systems, though it was a bit concerning that they traveled in convoy. Despite that, leaving Gargon was a joy, and Obi-Wan settled into his day cabin, having actually purchased it this time, and immediately began to meditate, centering himself once more in the Force.

The next day he arrived on Mandalore, with his identity once more covered by his Force Cloak. Moving out from the landing area, Obi-Wan frowned, debating internally with himself before sighing. It might be best to get a feel for the local atmosphere before showing up at the ducal palace. I do have several days before the others are supposed to arrive, after all, and Master Koon will want a report to start his own work from.

Obi-Wan went to work quickly and efficiently, casing the entire planet as best he could, though that wasn't nearly as well as he would have liked. There was very little public transportation here and few real roads out in the more rural environments. With the inability to properly handle the outlying regions, he decided to concentrate on the space stations and the cities.

He discovered that while the Reborn were apparently heavily represented in the rural areas, the New Mandalorians had a lock on the larger cities entirely, as well as most of the space stations, since they had built most of them in the first place. Their policies and the differences between those cities and the few that they did not dominate were easy to see. The New Mandalorians' various local regulations were much stricter, the way the locals moved and walked and even looked were a stark contrast to the way they looked out in the few clan areas he managed to observe.

For one thing, they didn't wear any armor. Elsewhere even those adults who didn't have weapons wore some kind of the armor, mostly the chest plate, but the armor was almost always there. For another, weapons were practically absent. And third, and most telling, was that the New Mandalorians tried to speak Galactic Standard as much as they could, and even had schools devoted to teaching it. But the few times he moved away from the cities, even into the various space stations, Obi-Wan had to use his Force powers to translate from Mando'a. Their bio-cube cities were practically a separate society rather than a faction of one.

At one point during this survey Obi-Wan discovered that the issues facing this planet were even more difficult than he had feared.

Sitting in a café in a city where the New Mandalorians were represented but did not have a lock on the local populace, Obi-Wan frowned as he listened in on another conversation about the debate going on as to whether or not the New Mandalorians were an actual legal government.

The locals were speaking Mando'a, and didn't use the word illegal. Instead they used a local word that he could sense had several different connotations, only a few of which Obi-Wan could grasp using his Force powers to translate the term. But most of it was not pleasant in any event.

Across from the café where he was sitting there was also a demonstration going on, a group of Reborn marching in lockstep down the street. Or at least what Obi-Wan thought were Reborn. Certainly they were against the New Mandalorians, and a lot of the locals were looking at them with mildly disturbed expressions on their faces. Listening in to their rhetoric he frowned, then paid for his coffee and moved off quickly following them.

It turned out these group of Mandalorians were not part of the Reborn. They were part of another loosely organized group which saw the New Mandalorians as Republic tools and wanted to go back to their warlike ways, particularly against the Jedi. Hearing that he was not popular here wasn't anything new to Obi-Wan; hearing 60+ armed Mandalorians say it, however, was not pleasant. Especially when one of them, a Duros, shouted out in graphic detail what he would like to do to the Jedi. Good grief, he has an active and rather horrible imagination…

Moments later they ran into a group of New Mandalorian police who tried to get them to disperse. The whole thing might have degenerated into violence if not for the sudden arrival of sixteen or so Mandalorians wearing jungle camouflage colors in comparison to the yellow and red colors of the anti-Jedi group. This new group came in with the roar of rocket packs before settling down on several of the rooftops overlooking the march. At the sight of that, suddenly the marchers' bellicosity drained away and they dispersed quickly, despite their leaders' histrionics.

Obi-Wan continued to watch for a few moments, and saw one of the local police officials meet with one of the newcomers, clasping forearms. When the newcomer removed his helmet it became obvious Obi-Wan was looking at a father and his son. That was interesting, and possibly a good sign: that family ties still mattered to many despite the individuals finding themselves on opposite sides of the political divide.

From this Obi-Wan began to realize that while Bo Katan had told the truth about how dissatisfied the local population was with the New Mandalorians' government, she had perhaps overstated the strength of her own position. Yes, the Reborn were organized and growing. Indeed, Obi-Wan watched a recruitment campaign in another city and came away somewhat impressed with the speaker's rhetoric. But they were still a relatively small faction in comparison to the size of the population.

Worse, the Reborn's direct challenge to the New Mandalorians seemed to have opened the very floodgates Bo had been concerned could lead to civil war. There wasn't much violence just yet occurring on the streets, but there had been a few ugly showdowns between various New Mandalorian police groups and locals coming in from out of town. Unlike the one Obi-Wan had watched, very few police had relatives they could call to for aid, and there had been several violent clashes.

There was a tension in the air of this planet. He could feel it as easily as he had been able to sense the beaten-down and broken nature of most of the inhabitants on Gargon. And it wasn't a pleasant feeling it all. Obi-Wan had been on planets where governments were changing from one local governor to another, and they had tension. But the tension here was sharper, a throbbing in the air to his Force senses, rife with violence.

And fear, quite a bit of fear, he thought two days after his arrival as he finally made his way to the ducal palace.

The palace was. of course, the new capital ofSundari, the first ever completed bio-cube on the planet. It was a large building with several sections of it square and uniform in construction coupled with some portions that looked more artistic, including a balcony, dining hall, and garden that he remembered from his mission here years ago. The balcony would allow anyone there to look out over the entire city and was situated facing the gates leading into the palace environs and out onto a square.

Striding up to the guardsmen at the front gate, Obi-Wan slowly flipped back his hood back to reveal his face, letting one hand gently touch his lightsaber which was once more tied to his belt outside his cloak at his side. With his Force Cloak no longer on, it could now be seen. "Hello," he said softly and as completely unthreatening as he could. The New Mandalorians might have thrown off a lot of the old traditions and anger, but there were those even in their faction who didn't like Jedi any more than the average nonaligned Mandalorian. "I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, and I am here on request of the Duchess. Please tell her I have arrived."

Satine looked up from several sheets of old-fashioned paperwork and four dataslates as Obi-Wan was shown into her office. She smiled widely at him, gesturing with one hand at the guard. "You can leave us. I have no doubt that I am safe in Jedi Kenobi's hands. He did, after all, save my life once before."

To Kenobi, she continued with a chuckle. "Although you also put it in danger from what I can recall. I still have the scars from those wasps."

"I did apologize when that occurred, but there was little else I could do at the time to save your life at the time," Obi-Wan said, bowing grandly. "You're looking well, Satine."

"Not as well as you," Satine said, somewhat more tartly than she had intended, though it was true.

Obi-Wan was in his mid-twenties and was still in extremely good shape from what she could see: his face newly shaved, his hair longer than she remembered without the padawan braid. He stood confidently, his broad shoulders thrown back, his face showing much more experience and confidence to go with his competence. He is as handsome as I remember…

For his part, while Obi-Wan had not lied, of course, he did feel grateful that he would not have to elaborate on his response. Satine was still beautiful, but she had aged visibly in the years since they'd last seen each other, far more than those years alone could account for. There were lines on her face that hadn't been there before, marks under her eyes that told him she hadn't been sleeping well. On top of that Satine was wearing a far more severe style of dress and hair then she had in the past. That might have been an affectation at one point to seem older to people who didn't like being led by her in the first place, regardless of her position. But it had since become part of her normal style.

She is like a young willow bent with the weather but still vibrant and beautiful, Obi-Wan thought to himself.

At her gesture Obi-Wan sat down across from Satine, and she asked, "So, did you just arrive? Or have you been doing your Jedi spy thing?"

"If by 'Jedi spy thing' you mean I wished to understand the lay of the land here on my own before being given any preconceived notions to work on, yes," Obi-Wan said calmly, wincing slightly as Satine's eyes narrowed, but she didn't make a point of it. "I have come away…concerned."

"You and literally everyone else in my government," Satine said simply. "I have had people wondering if we should crack down now: declare martial law, declare the clan conclave illegal, and arrest Bo Katan. Of course cooler heads have prevailed since even trying to do so would spark off the civil war I see coming far too easily."

"That, and it would be patently illegal, and I would not be able to be a part of such an attempt," Obi-Wan said coolly. "The New Mandalorians' position on this planet has always been tenuous legally, if not politically, and this has been brewing for some time has it not?"

"It has," Satine said slowly, staring at Obi-Wan now as if she had heard something in his tone beyond his apparent disdain for an action that she wasn't particularly happy to think about either. "I had hoped that the New Mandalorians' teachings would have spread beyond our bio-cubes and other cities. But the clans, the history, and of course the Resol'nare," she said almost sneering the words "have held out among unenlightened Mandalorians, which our belief in pacifism and nonaggression have had trouble combating."

Obi-Wan nodded, but Satine was still looking at him. He realized she was waiting for him to speak, and he did so in as prevaricating a manner as possible while he mustered his thoughts. "As I said, I spent several days getting the feel of the planet, as it were, and I am concerned."

"You said that already. Now what are we going to do about it? What aid are the Jedi going to give us right away, and how long do you think we should let the debate go on before you make your decision in the New Mandalorians' favor?" Sabine asked intently.

This isn't going to be pleasant, Obi-Wan thought. An ignominious part of him took a moment to think that maybe he should wait until the Order's senior delegate arrived and put this on Master Plo Koon's shoulders, but that would not be the Jedi way. "I cannot tell you how long the clan conclave will go on, or if it will actually be decided in your favor at all. We Jedi deal with matters of justice, not just law: we cannot be swayed by personal opinion," Obi-Wan said aloud, his tone and words blunt so as to get the words out quickly.

He held up a hand as Satine made to speak. "Personally, I think the New Mandalorian government should be an example not only for this planet, but for any other planet in the galaxy in how to run their affairs. Nonaggression and peaceful coexistence should be the rule. However, this is not about my wants or desires, this is about reality, and the reality is that at this moment I cannot say if the New Mandalorian government is either representational of the majority of this planet's people, or would be able to survive without being propped up by the Republic. I just don't have enough information."

"And being so propped up would just make us a puppet government, something we are already being called far too often for my tastes," Satine sighed, some of her initial anger at Obi-Wan's words leaking out of her. "I can understand that, though it goes against what I was told recently in a message from the Senate. They said they would back the New Mandalorians irrespective of anything else. I don't like the idea of becoming a puppet government, but if the alternative is a return to our warlike ways, which will eventually end with another Republic-backed bombardment of our planet, I will take it."

Obi-Wan's mind and face blanked for a moment. "I'm sorry, what?"

Looking at him, Satine raised an eyebrow. "The Senate sent a message. Senator Antilles, I believe his name was, and another less pleasant man sent it personally. They said that the Senate would back the decisions of the Jedi on hand here, and that decision would 'obviously be in your favor.'" She made quotes marks in the air to indicate those last few words came from the Senators.

"That is the first I've heard of it!" Obi-Wan said, his mind awhirl. "I left Kashyyyk almost a week ago now, but even so I truly doubt that that has changed. We were supposed to wait and make a ruling based upon the facts presented to us, not try to, to influence the debate into the conclusion we wanted to see."

Obi-Wan stood up, pacing for a moment as he thought through the implications of the Senate, in particular Senator Antilles, the head of the pacifist segment of the Senate, getting involved in this debate. How, why, and what pressure they could bring were the questions now on his mind. Satine watched him appreciatively, smiling at the energy of the man.

Abruptly Obi-Wean turned back to her, cocking his head to one side. "Are you worried about the Reborn faction itself? That they will start open warfare against you?"

"Surprisingly, no," Satine said shaking her head. "While I have severe reservations about the Reborn and what they could become long-term my… my sister seems to genuinely believe in their concept of becoming defenders rather than conquerors, of striving for personal perfection and skill rather than glory. And at the moment she and the rest of her faction are convinced that outright violence now would be a bad thing, painting their whole platform in a negative light."

"I see," Obi-Wan said nodding, though his own mind was still on the Senate. "In that case, perhaps we need to work with them more directly. So long as the debates are quite obviously as democratic and fair as they can be, the Senate might not be able to bring much overt pressure to bear on events here in the Outer Rim. Now, tell me about this clan debate; how is it organized, and how are results tallied?"

The two of them talked for a few moments, the conversation slowly turning to other things, including their shared past. This gave Satine some rest from her duties and Obi-Wan a few moments more to collect himself from the shock of hearing the Senate possibly giving the Jedi marching orders in such an obvious fashion.

Later Satine walked him to the Hypercom center, which was a part of the palace. It would bounce a signal to the nearest relay station, then on to Coruscant. Obi-Wan was somewhat worried about that, considering what had been suspected for some time was now practically proven, that the Senate or someone else, at least, was able to listen in on any communications to the Temple.

A moment later, his signal was sent out. After connecting to the massive Hypercom array on Coruscant he was directed and then redirected several times more before at last someone came up on the other side. Senator Antilles was there, along with the Senator from Eriadu, the aged Bestina Tarkin, an uncle of the planet's relatively new governor, Wilhuff Tarkin.

At the sight of the two men Obi-Wan felt his heart sink. He liked Antilles, having met him several times before this, and he knew of Bestina. They were both part of the pacifism faction in the Senate if in very different ways, and their being involved in this discussion, or interested at all in the Mandalorian issue was telling. "Senators," he said simply. "I have recently arrived on Mandalore and was informed that you had contacted Duchess Kryze?"

"We realize that your initial mission on Mandalore was to simply listen and to oversee the debate," Antilles began, his tone conciliatory, but the other man's eyes were worried and very cold. "However, the nature of the debate there began to make the rounds of the Senate halls. It's evoked a lot of fear, frankly more fear than I would've expected given how long ago the last war against the Mandalorians was."

Here the other man took up the tale. "The Excision was launched for a reason, after all." At that Antilles twitched, but the other man talked right over any objections he might have raised. "It was a necessary act to maintain the peace and stability of the Republic. Personal morality cannot be allowed to get in the way of necessary acts to ensure the overall peace of the Republic. Therefore you are ordered to do what you can to make certain that the current government, the New Mandalorians, remain in charge. We don't want violence there, after all, but that's the entire point. We don't want the Mandalorians to return to their old ways at all."

"That is not The Jedi way," Obi-Wan replied flatly. "We serve justice as well as equality. Controlling a debate like that would serve none of those things."

"You are a servant of the Republic, Jedi Knight Kenobi, and you would do well to remember that. We need to take the long view here, and in such circumstances your Order's esoteric and patently false dedication to the law and justice must be set aside, at least in private like this," the other man replied, he voice even colder than it had been.

"EnoughBestina!" Antilles said, cutting his fellow Senator off. "Your antipathy to the Jedi is getting in the way of your clear sense, my friend. Perhaps you should leave us?"

The words were mild, but Antilles glared at his fellow senator's image until it blinked out a moment later before turning back to the Jedi. "I apologize for Bestina. There are many senators that think the Jedi don't do enough to ensure the stability of the Republic."

"The Republic, the Senate, or their own positions?" Obi-Wan asked, somewhat appalled by the open attempt to order him to toe the party line. The Jedi were supposed to be above such blandishments.

Antilles stiffened, but did not reply. That was part of why most people liked the man: he refused to speak ill of his fellow senators unless they were being investigated by his committee for anticorruption, and then he would have facts to then back up his opinion.

He rubbed his forehead, looking at Obi-Wan's image for a moment before speaking once more. "The opinion of the Senate is that the Mandalorians cannot be allowed to renew their aggressive ways, regardless of what new quasi-ethical position they have taken or whatever it is. Our reports are disjointed on what this Reborn faction really believes, so any information there would hopefully calm down some of the fear we are seeing at present."

"But this societal change or whatever it is must be curtailed diplomatically," he went on seriously. "If not, the backlash would be tremendous not only here in the Senate, but elsewhere in the Republic. "Too many planets remember the Mandalorians, yet we cannot act militarily against them out there. It would be a long-term operation, and we simply don't have the resources. Not without leaving core worlds undefended, and none of them will agree to that."

Obi-Wan didn't like the way that even Antilles seemed to speak so casually about what that military action would constitute. It showed a level of hubris, perhaps, or antipathy. Certainly a startling lack of empathy. "We will try our best, and regardless of anything else, we will move rapidly to try to curtail any outright violence. But does the Republic have the right to dictate to a planet that is not, in point of fact, part of it? The government might be, but the planet is not after all."

"Yes, that's one of the various boondoggles that is messing up the waters around this problem," Antilles said drolly, his sense of humor coming back to the older man somewhat. "But it is also small change in comparison to the rather large kiloton of trouble about to land on you. I wish I could tell you how, but the news about this clan conclave and what it might mean has spread to various intergalactic news agencies."

Obi-Wan paled, and Antilles smiled ruefully. "I'm afraid you're going to have at least two, possibly up to four news agencies sending their own reporters and camera crew men in to observe."

"By the Force, that's just what we need," Obi-Wan muttered, letting his concern show through the transceiver to the other man in a way he normally would not have.

The position of news agencies, and indeed communication companies as a whole, in the Republic was somewhat hard to get a handle on. While many planets, around two-thirds of the planets that made up the Republic, had an open news policy, others did not, and there was no oversight of such things. And very few news agencies had the reach and power to act outside of their local star systems. And none that did were truly what could be termed independent of the Senate.

The Senate, after all, controlled the Hypercom relays. This worked in the Senate's favor, or rather various factions within it, and libel laws were horrendously harsh, at least if you could afford to wait for the judicial system to work its way through it, or to railroad it through somehow.

All of the news agencies that had access to the Hypercom relay systems were also represented in the Senate itself, just like the Tech Union and the others of that ilk. They didn't have nearly as much pull as those groups because news didn't pay as well yet they had a lot of influence. It was a slow acting sort of power rather than a quick one, and it had no military connotation to it, but it was there.

Of course there were pirate news agencies, groups who used slicers and specialized criminal gear to get their own brand of news out there. But in the last few hundred years or so Obi-Wan knew of only three such groups that were doing to so report actual news rather than to spout their own skewed brand of said.

"I will pass this all on," Obi-Wan said after a moment. "I am not in charge of this mission, as you know. Master Plo Koon is. He will probably not react very well, if I have to be honest. He believes in justice above all, and this flies in the face of that mandate."

"I know, my friend," Antilles said with a sigh. "Just do your best. That's all we can do."

Obi-Wan nodded and cut the connection, leaning back in his chair as he thought. No, Master Koon is not going to like this.

OOOOOOO

There are many things that Plo Koon did not like at the moment, though when he heard about Obi-Wan's current concern it would probably rise straight to the top of his list. At the moment, however, that list was currently topped by his starfighter being under fire.

By this point he had surveyed his targeted planets: the Breshig, Harswee, Jakelia, and Cheravh systems. In each the scars of the Excision were still visible in various ways. Not one of them had been able to come back to the level of technology or industry or even the level of living that they had had before. Breshig, Harswee, and Cheravh systems had degraded to below the level of even frontier systems. Their life expectancy was horrendous, as was their childhood death rate, level of medical care, and overall industry.

Jakelia was the only semi-autonomous and civilized planet among them, if barely. And its inhabitants remembered the glory days of Mandalorian supremacy in the sector. Indeed, there were several Jakelian Mandalorian clans on the planet. Dozens of or representatives of said had already Jakelia for Mandalore during Plo Koon's brief survey of the planet.

This made Plo Koon realize that Ranma had been correct: the Order and the Republic were wrong to not rebuild this sector after the Excision. He had no idea how many sentients had died in the centuries since then because of neglect and a lack of off-world aid, but that number probably dwarfed those that had died in the actual assault.

Despite that, his trip had been relatively peaceful, but that had ended when he was in route to Mandalore itself. Coming out of hyperspace Plo Koon quickly twitched his starfighter's controls to one side, evading incoming fire. Ahead of him were several slow moving but somewhat decently armed small tramp freighters with three or four weapon systems each trying to get a lock on his ship. Their shields didn't read as being very powerful, but their offensive firepower was nothing to sneer at.

"Incoming starfighter, surrender! Repeat: incoming starfighter, surrender or be vaped!" As that communique came through, the Sprite's sensors detected a derelict behind the pirates of a small, ripped open transport freighter. Its entire aft portion was gone, and the ship was quite literally dead in space. The four ships had apparently finished their predations before Plo Koon arrived.

Master Plo Koon was one of the best pilots in the Jedi Order, and he did not reply to their threats. Instead he gunned his ship forward on full drive, dodging underneath their turbolaser and quad laser fire, flipping along his ships axis occasionally to dodge near misses. There was a pinging noise in his helmet as his ship's computer locked onto the first pirate, and he let loose a single proton torpedo.

Following after it for a moment he ducked underneath several bursts of quad laser fire, his own ship's blasters shooting back and stitching up the side of the ship for a moment, weakening its shields right before the proton torpedo hit. The shields went down, and the ship listed badly as the explosion seemed to shatter the shields and much of the ship below it. Before the ship could try to escape its fate, Plo Koon had already stitched the cockpit of the small freighter, sending it spiraling away without anyone at the controls.

The other three ships attempted to envelop the Kel Dor's starfighter, coming at him from above, below, and the front, but they were too slow. Plo Koon's starfighter was able to juke up towards the one trying to get into position above him, zooming past and then coming around quickly to dive-bomb it, another proton torpedo lashing out and smashing into the thing's back, shattering it entirely. Its shields didn't even slow the proton torpedo down.

Instead of turning to try to avoid the cloud of debris, Plo Koon flew straight through it, powering his shields more for a second as he did. The ship that had been trying to come at his original position from below didn't even see him coming through the debris, the pirate's systems not up to the task of seeing him until after he exited the cloud where the pilots could actually see him visually. A second later, that ship, too, reeled away, its engines gone, its "spine" broken.

Before the Kel Dor could turn to deal with the last ship, it jumped to hyperspace, probably on an uncontrolled leap just to get away from him. Plo Koon sighed, reaching out with his force senses for a moment to see if he could find any survivors, either on the pirate ships or their previous victim. He could not. But at least I avenged those poor people. Far too often we Jedi come in after the fact. Getting justice for the dead is well and good, but not nearly as good as protecting the living.

With that he turned the starfighter away, letting his Astromech droid calculate the next jump, entering hyperspace soon after.

The Jedi master's initial greeting when he arrived on Mandalore was rather frosty, yet welcoming in turn. Arriving openly as a Jedi, the Mandalorians of course saw him as such immediately, and to the Mandalorian on the street the Jedi were the equivalent of evil bogeymen from their past. The New Mandalorians were more enlightened in their views, but even among them there were people who would rather not deal with the Jedi at all.

Still, I cannot say this is a surprise, Plo Koon thought sadly as he made his way to the palace. There he was immediately met by Obi-Wan, the younger man holding up his hand in greeting. "Master Koon, I trust your journey has been, if not pleasant, then at least enlightening?"

"It has, if not in the direction I would've wished," Plo Koon said, holding up his own hand in greeting before gesturing Obi-Wan to follow him as he moved deeper into the palace. "Walk with me." Obi-Wan fell into step beside Plo Koon, who asked softly, "What has been occurring here since you arrived?"

"I openly announced myself yesterday…" Obi-Wan began, going on to talk about the discussion he had with the Senate representatives.

He watched Master Koon for a reaction. While the Kel Dor's eyes did not flicker, his gas mask made those peculiar movements that told other people he was now frowning behind it. "And you did not contact the order?"

"I did not," Obi-Wan said, shaking his head. "I do not have access to any of our secure Hypercom links, if they are, in fact, secure. I'm uncertain how much information we should be sharing on such a heated subject over such a distance, especially when it is obvious that someone is leaking secrets."

"Sound thinking," Plo Koon mused. "But I think we will have to, at the very least, talk to the council."

Moments later they were in the same Hypercom relay communication room that Obi-Wan had used the day before, and both of them swept the room for listening devices, just in case. They could not sense anything out of place here, nor could they sense anyone listening in on them. With that Plo Koon powered up the computer and a moment later was looking at a hologram of Master Mace Windu. Plo Koon nodded his head over to Obi-Wan. "Obi-Wan informs me that the Senate knows about our mission and is pressuring us?"

"They are," Mace said simply. "More rides on this now than I would personally like. The Senate is, of course, a sieve for secrets in general, but now it has become such for our secrets, not just its own. We're trying to do what we can on our end to shore up security, but it's slow going since we have to get Senate approval for such large expenses at a time when we are also trying to wean ourselves away from their control and influence over us."

"I can see why that would be an issue. However, I have to concentrate on the here and now in this mission in particular," Plo responded.

"The Senate fully expects you to either head off this debate entirely, make sure goes in the right direction, or simply bolster the New Mandalorian government with your very presence enough to make this Reborn faction back off, or conversely, act out aggressively. If they do that, we can simply label the, as terrorists and ignore whatever reasoning might be behind their actions."

Plo Koon nodded slowly. "I can also understand that," he said with manifest irritation. "And the feeling in the Order itself, has that changed?"

Mace frowned. "The feeling in the Order is wary watchfulness. There's not so much open opposition to the idea as concern. Many of the Masters involved in the debate with Ranma, including myself, have come to at least see his position, and the idea of the Excision not occurring in a time of war is something that sits poorly among most, though there are still those that still say that the Order was correct at the time, and that the Order can do no wrong so long as we keep to the Force."

The fact that at one point Mace would have been the leader of that group went unsaid. "The High Council has a handle on our internal issues. There's nothing that's going to happen within the Order because of this issue one way or the other. The Senate, however, that is far less…predictable. There are a lot of senators who are simply saying that we need to do what needs to be done to ensure the safety of the Republic. Whatever that is, without outright saying it of course."

"I will do what is right," Plo Koon said, each word coming out slowly and certain. As a race, the Kel Dor were known to uphold a very strict sense of right and wrong coupled with a willingness to act on it that often resembled vigilantism to other races. Becoming a Jedi had not done anything to combat that tendency in Plo Koon, and he would not be pressured to do otherwise. "If that does not dovetail with what the Senate requires that is their issue not mine."

"And there we see why you are not exactly welcome in senatorial circles," Mace said ruefully, though he did not say Plo was wrong. With a faint smile on his face he raised a hand formally. "May the Force be with you, Master Plo Koon, guiding your steps and your thoughts on this endeavor."

"May the Force be with you as well in all you do, Master Windu," Plo Koon said, holding up his own hand up just as formally. "In dealing with both issues internal and external to the Order."

Mace let his mouth twist into a wry grimace, then they both cut the connection. That left Obi-Wan and Plo Koon alone once more in the room on Mandalore. The two Jedi were now looking at one another speculatively. "You have any idea how this is going to go?" Obi-Wan asked, though his tone made it more of a statement.

"I know what I personally have to do," Plo said, getting up from his chair. "It will not be pleasant, but it will be necessary, and it might head off much of the violence we can both foresee. In the end, I believe that is all we can ask for."

OOOOOOO

That evening Shaak Ti and Ranma arrived, the last to do so of their little group. As they came out of hyperspace, they immediately began to open up communications, looking for where Bo Katan was.

"About kriffing time you two arrived," Bo growled, trying hard to hide her pleasure, and the relief she felt at seeing Ranma and Shaak on the other end of the communicator. "We're on the moon, located in one of the old mining complexes. Head to coordinate X-24, Y-59 off the heading to the spaceport above the capital, and you should start to see our installation soon enough. From there we'll guide you in."

"Gotcha," Ranma replied, turning the Wild Light to match those coordinates, while on the other line Shaak Ti dealt with the local space control officers who were attempting to tell the Wild Light to land in one of the bio-cubes down on the planet.

"Thank you for the offer of a berth, but I believe we have other arrangements already in place," she was saying as the Wild Light moved off the lane the locals had told them to take.

"Er, Master Jedi, there's nothing in that direction but the moon, and certainly nothing that would, um, that is…" the local on the other end replied, consternation in his tone as he realized the Wild Light knew precisely where they were going.

His voice was taken over by someone else, another man, sounding older and more authoritative. "Master Jedi, this is the Chief Officer Tarn. I'm in charge of the orbitals of Mandalore. The Reborn might no longer be the Death Watch but that doesn't mean they'll welcome a Jedi's presence on their base. If you are here to investigate them, then I think coming in as you are would result in a confrontation at a time we can't afford more signs of exterior influences involved in Mandalorian politics, and I must ask you to clear your mission with Duchess Satine. If you are here to observe the debate, it would be best if…"

"I am not here to observe the clan conclave, nor am I here to investigate the Reborn. I am here to repay a debt to Bo Katan Kryze and her warriors," Shaak said, letting an edge of chill enter her voice, signifying the man had overstepped himself. "Myself and my companion are both here for that reason. You will see us in the following days, I am certain."

The man's response faltered beyond a single gasp, but he seemed to regain his self-control quickly. "I will have to report this, Master Jedi."

"Please do," Shaak replied, then cut the connection as the ship dove down to fly over theheavily forested moon. The forest was an actual forest like those of Russia or Canada, interspersed with only a few scattered towns and evidence of strip mines here and there to break up the monotony of deciduous trees from one end to the other.

Moments later they came upon an abandoned mining complex. It was defended by several small, expertly hidden anti-air batteries, a few dozen equally well-hidden guard posts, and heavy weapons installations around a large metal hatch leading further into the mine shafts below. The base couldn't survive an orbital bombardment, but any conventional assault would pay heavily to gain a foothold here.

The ship hovered over the hatch which opened on silent runnels as the guns around them turned away from tracking the ship. Inside were a few more anti-air guns trained on the opening, but they were unpowered at the moment, and the Wild Light set down gently among a small, motley flotilla of ships.

As they set down Shaak noted the ships, lips quirking as she noticed that several of them were near-to-new starfighters from the Core Worlds. Others were old Corellia refits, and a few others were extremely old Mandalorian local designs. Those last, about five ships in total, were being worked on as they set down, while the others looked ready for battle. "Hmm… I think Bo's been doing quite a bit of recruiting here. I just hope the target of this martial might is to be found elsewhere, rather than on the planet below."

"If it isn't, then Bo and I are gonna have a… talk," Ranma said, getting up from his chair next to her.

The two of them moved into the sitting area a moment when Shaak paused, sighing as she took off thecloakthat Ranma had made for her, setting it aside as she once again pulled on her Jedi robe, smiling faintly as its weight settled on her shoulders. "While I do love your gift, Ranma, I am sorry to say I could never wear it while out and about. For one thing, it would be a little embarrassing, for another, it is precisely the kind of rich finery we Jedi are not supposed to be attached to."

She laughed suddenly, reaching up to cup Ranma's cheek gently. "But then again, it is the emotion behind the gift that I treasure rather than the amount of money or time it took for you to make."

"I don't care about putting you on display or anything like that. I care about you and the fact you accepted it and me with all that entails," Ranma replied, before leaning down to kiss Shaak lightly, taking her hand in his. Even along like this he still had trouble admitting to weakness, especially the neko-ken, but Shaak understood what he meant and smiled kissing him in turn.

With a sigh they both turned away, moving to activate the hatch. "Wake up HK, we're here," Ranma ordered. "Yeesh, with the amount of time you spend turned off like that, I might have to rename you SAL for Sleeps-A-Lot rather than Hunter-Killer."

"Injured tone: master, it is not my fault I prefer to be deactivated while in transit. After all, if I were not I would be forced to witness your mating rituals with the mistress. That would no doubt be unpleasant for all involved." HK said, his eyes lighting up at Ranma's order, and his body going from stationary statue to powered monstrosity swiftly. He moved to cover the two of them as the hatch lowered.

"Yeah, okay. Ya win that round, HK," Ranma muttered, shaking his head while Shaak chuckled beside him before her face firmed into her public Jedi mask. "Tune, feel free to move about the ship or outside, but make sure the ship's security systems are on if you leave it, and don't let anyone else aboard okay?"

"Affirmative, master," Tune's voice came from the nearest speaker, the droid still in its small cubicle in the cockpit..

With that done, Ranma turned his attention fully to the quartet waiting for them outside. Bo was standing in the front, wearing her armor sans her backpack and helmet, painted in cobalt blue with burnished silver edging each segment of the armor. At her back stood the clan chief from Yavin, Clento. Beside him stood the younger Mandalorian warrior, Tess, who Shaak and Ranma had met during the battle against the pirates. Another unknown man of middle years stood to Bo's other side, a slightly older man beside him.

"Ranma." Bo said, reaching out and exchanging a handclasp with Ranma and a nod with Shaak, her eyes narrowing speculatively for just a second as she took in the body language of her two guests before setting her speculation aside. Remember Bo, you gave up on that idea. Whatever's gone on between them isn't your concern. "Glad you could make it. Let me introduce Tess Von Dere. Tess hasn't brought many troops to our cause, but her knowledge of life throughout the rest of the sector is invaluable, and she also brought several crates of armor and weapons."

Tess grinned, holding out a hand. "We've met. These two helped me and mine see off a pirate attack on the Grock. Thanks again for that," she said as Ranma shook her hand, holding onto his hand for just a second too long.

While Ranma didn't notice this, both Bo and Shaak did. Bo was rather amused. Huh, I guess I should have expected other Mandos to fall for Ranma. I wonder if any of the men will have the balls to hit on his female form. Whatever happens, it'll be fun to observe from the outside. I could use some entertainment these days.

Shaak found herself once more not liking how Tess was sizing Ranma up, like a juicy steak almost. There didn't seem to be anything malicious in the look, but it was just a little too assessing for her liking. She had to once more fight the desire to use her Force powers on the other woman to figure out what she was thinking, reminding herself, once again, that jealousy was no true reason to use her powers on another person like that.

"You, know Clento of course, but this Is Pol Skirata, leader of clan Skirata. He's brought his three sons and about a dozen other warriors to our ranks."

Pol Skirata was a middle aged man with close cropped, brown hair and a drawn face with heavy, hooded eyes wearing brown and tan painted Mandalorian armor. He seemed to be watching Shaak Ti more closely than the others, and he also seemed to be favoring one leg as if it pained him.

Bo waved to the last man. "And this is Victor Zenlav. He's the younger brother of the head of Mandalmotors. He's his clan's offering to our side, kind of like offering up a juicy gronk to the table," Bo said, smirking at the older man, but there was real danger in her eyes, and Victor didn't seem to be in favor from the others either.

"My brother is simply making certain that our clan's position will remain the same, or perhaps become more secure, whichever faction wins," the man replied, his tone implying this wasn't the first time he'd had to defend his clan's position. He was a younger man than either Clento or Pol, but stood with somewhat more arrogance than either. "Mandalmotors does a lot of business with the New Mandalorians right now, after all, so whatever your future plans we can't simply walk over our current friends to make new ones."

Ranma twitched, seeing in this little exchange what their time on Mandalore would probably contain for both him and Shaak. Oh gods, this is not going to be fun. "So, what's been going on since we saw each other on Yavin?"

"Lots of debates, lots of talking, oh, and the Jedi you warned me about arrived yesterday. Or at least one of them arrived yesterday. I am uncertain when the younger one, the human, arrived on planet." Bo gestured her two guests to follow her, looking at the other four for a moment. "Meet us in my office in about an hour or so, and if you could get some food prepared, I'd appreciate it."

"Right," Tess said, moving off already, winking over her shoulder at Ranma who missed the gesture, but again, Shaak had not. The others simply nodded and left without another word.

Shaak's eyes followed the other woman for a moment before she fell into step with Ranma behind Bo. Bo led them quickly to her own office, which had changed noticeably in the time since she had taken over. The wall was now covered in brown and green paint, interspersed with wooden shelves containing weapons and bits of armor, including her helmet and a few other knickknacks. The metal desk had been replaced, too, with a wire and glass desk, and several larger, somewhat more comfortable swivel chairs had replaced the older ones. To one side of the desk was a small training area large enough for a single person to exercise, complete with advanced weight devices.

While the door to her office closed behind them Bo slumped into one chair, glaring at Bo and Shaak for a moment. "If I had known how much damn politics I'd have to play to try and change Mandalorian society I might have given it up as a bad job! And that's without adding dealing with my sister into the kriffing equation."

"Sister?" Ranma asked, taking a seat across from Bo while Shaak sat elegantly on the floor to one side of him. HK, silent and somewhat menacing, took up position by the door.

"Satine Kryze, the so-called Duchess—Hah!—is my older sister. I can't remember a time since she was sent off-world to school that we've ever really seen each other as family." Ranma looked worried, but Bo waved him off going on quickly. "Don't worry about that. There's no family feeling there from either of us, trust me."

"Jaundiced Observation: It has been my experience that hatred between meatbag family members is always more powerful than that felt towards a mere rival. Hopeful query: I don't suppose you could just challenge this other meatbag to the death and get it over with now?"

"Oh, I wish," Bo said dreamily, closing her eyes as if imagining that very thing. "Unfortunately, such fratricide is frowned upon in our culture."

"You know, for a droid which has so little of its long term memory intact, you seem to have a lot of experience, HK," Ranma quipped.

"Droll Reply: While my specific memory date cores has been destroyed, many of what humans would call experiential observations remain. Else why would I be as good at my job as I am, Master?"

"What is the lay of the land like here, politically?" Shaak asked, trying to get the conversation back on topic before Ranma and HK could continue to needle one another.

"Chaotic," Bo replied dryly, picking up a Zero-G rated drink bulb and taking a pull before offering it to her guests, who both shook their heads. "I'm busy making public statements, gathering allies, trying to convince people I'm not crazy or going back to what the NMs call our 'horrendous, atrocity-strewn past,' not entirely anyway. Tess has been a big help there with her knowledge of a few of the other planets in the sector and how badly they've done since our heyday."

"The NMs seem to have decided the Reborn aren't a physical threat, but are definitely pushing the whole 'Reborn equals Death Watch under new paint' angle in their propaganda." Bo pulled again at the drink, which Shaak realized was something alcoholic. It was evident to her that Bo was not dealing very well with the pressure of being so central in the social and political movement she had begun.

"Mind you, I'm still dealing with a few Death Watch diehards who want to go back to the old ways or think that violence of any kind against the NMs is the way to force them out of office. Heh, I've had three assassination attempts made on me since returning to Concordia," Bo smirked. "Mind you, they at least got my blood pumping."

A second later her smirk turned into a scowl. "The concepts of honor we talked about have been gathering some interest, but it's been an uphill battle to get people to realize that's not all I'm offering. An exhibition match between you and me down on the planet might garner more attention for my position. I want to attract people using your skills and what your being allied with us could mean in terms of our individual skills, while also slipping in the changes I want to make to the Resol'nare."

She paused, thinking hard. "I also think you might need to speak about your own warrior's history and the samurai of your homeworld. That kind of thing will attract the aliite (clan) chiefs and other less headstrong among our population."

"I don't like the idea of being used like some kind of, of show horse," Ranma said then looked away as Shaak chuckled beside him, knowing his name meant wild horse in his original language. "But I agreed to help you as much as I could without tying myself down here for years, and if putting on some exhibition matches is the cost, then that's fine. But I want to look over a copy of this Resol'nare thing. I understand it's like a large book or something?"

"Well, at first it was just six tenets called the Six Actions, but it grew over time, expanded, then became a sort of religion and then became a social contract: a code of honor we as a people adhere to. That's what it is nowadays. There's no longer any kind of religious flavor to it. Anyway, beyond their pacifist policies, the fact that the NMs don't adhere to its tenets is the major bone of contention between them and the real Mandalorians."

"They disdain the language, or Mandoa. They don't wear armor, the tenet of Beskar'gam. They do adhere to the idea of Ba'jur, or education, but have changed its meaning to back up their pacifist policies. And while they say they keep to the tenet of Ara'nov, or defense, they have again changed the meaning to suit their own needs. They do, I have to say, at least for the most part, adhere to the idea of Aliit, or clan, but again they've changed that to mean simply family, which isn't really accurate. They also call their leader Duke and Duchess rather than Mand'alor, which is the last tenet!" Bo replied, before cutting herself off, having gotten a little too intense there for a moment.

Bo took a moment to compose herself before going on, setting her drink bulb down and pulling out an actual paper book, holding it out to Ranma. "In any event, I have a compact copy of it you can look at if you want to."

Ranma took it, noting that the thing was old, its leather cover rather battered. The words, however, were still readable, if he could actually understand the language, anyway. Realizing that fact, he groaned, shaking his head. "Um, I don't suppose you have an audio version? I mean, I can sort of read Galactic Standard, but not this."

"We really do need to start teaching you Galactic standard more often than once every few days," Shaak mused. "Your number recognition is excellent, but your vocabulary needs a lot of work."

"I have an audio version, yes. They're used for Mandalorians who are blind or have eye problems. But getting that to you will take a while longer." So saying she typed out a command on her computer, sending out an order to prepare such a copy and deliver it to the Wild Light's computers later that evening. "I can give you the highlights now, if you want?"

Nodding, Ranma leaned back as did Shaak as Bo began to talk about the original Six Tenets, then how those had expanded becoming a full social contract later on, as well as a sort of format for how to make war and to propagate the Mandalorian way of life. Some of it had fallen by the wayside during and after the Mandalorian Wars, but a lot of it was still adhered to today.

This went on for several hours, with Ranma and Shaak both asking questions while HK would butt in occasionally with jokes, unwilling to stand silent for so long. Ranma in particular saw many parallels between the tenets and the rules of warfare to the code of the Samurai and even some aspects of the Art of War. He pulled out the copy of that book he had in his ki space and read out a few passages, which segued into a lively debate between all three of them.

At this point they were joined by Tess, Clento, and the two new men, Victor and Pol. They brought food and joined in the debate quickly, though all of them looked askance at Shaak more than once after sitting down. Most of them were leery about Jedi involvement, but since Clento and Bo were willing to let her remain, they had to go along with it. HK, in comparison, was more welcome, especially by Clento who had fought beside him on Yavin's moon.

And many of Shaak's points about clan duty and obligation, as well as how the clan structure could retain its identity even in an age of space travel and high technology, were interesting. It was good for the Mandalorians to realize that there were other cultures based around clans out there that had not lost their character.

Pol and Clento spoke as veterans. Pol was a middle-aged man who had been a solitary mercenary for years and had been involved in many small-scale and a few large-scale conflicts the universe over. He had come back when rumors of the Reborn had reached his ears and what it might mean for his people, though he would not speak of where he had been. Upon his return he had taken command of his clan after seeing to his wife's burial, taking on the training of his three sons as well as the rest of the extended aliite (clan). As such, he was well-respected by everyone in the Reborn.

Clento had been part of the Yavin campaign, and before that had fought pirates and criminals scattered throughout the Mandalore sector numerous times, since his clan was based not on Mandalore itself, but on a space station orbiting one of the system's gas giants, which harvested its gases for blasters. That made him both important and respected.

On the other end of the scale, Victor spoke with confidence, but little actual experience. He was not a blooded warrior, though he wore the armor of a Mandalorian, and Mandalmotor's neutrality, while serving the planet as a whole, was not seen as very honorable by either of the other men. Bo understood his clan's position and respected it, but wasn't above needling him when he let his confidence get the better of him. And his words about honor and the Resol'nare were rather suspect.

For her part Tess was mostly silent, only speaking up here and there. As Bo had said earlier, her knowledge of the other planets in the sector was very helpful. In everything else, however, Tess was the youngest in the room and stayed quiet as was proper.

As the debate slowly changed topics, Victor asked a question that was in many minds among the Reborn. "Where is Jango Fett? He would be a major voice in our favor."

"Who?" Ranma asked, prompting Shaak and Bo to both fill him in on the legendary bounty hunter and his past. Hearing that a single man had taken out the Death Watch when it was riding high after beating their opponents, the True Mandalorians, was impressive.

HK agreed with that assessment. "Irritated Sadness: Indeed master, he is one of a handful of bounty hunters that I had hoped to see take up the challenge of your bounty. Alas, he seems to have a greater degree of self-preservation than most meatbags."

"If he had wished to return here right after that, I think Jango might well have been able to gather enough support to declare himself Mandalore and overthrow the New Mandalorians," Victor said definitively. "If he had, even my brother might well have backed him."

"But he blames the rest of our society for not backing the True Mandalorians in their private war against the Death Watch," Clento said with a sigh. "He will not return to Mandalore, not even under these circumstances. Worse, he hates the Jedi with a passion, not that we can totally blame him for that."

"I agree. What we call the Mandalore debacle is one of many instances where the Jedi Order have been used as hatchet men or simply been fed false information in the last few decades," Shaak said, firmly nodding her head almost in a bow to the old aliite chief. "The Order has learned from those mistakes, believe me."

While Clento and Victor evinced some contempt toward that statement, Pol and Tess both remained silent, though the older man radiated something like concern so strongly that even when not trying to Shaak could feel it through the Force. She didn't have enough of a feeling for what was behind that, however, to draw attention to it.

Bo, on the other hand, simply shrugged. "I tried to reach out to him, but the Bounty Hunter has disappeared of late. I admit my own time in the Death Watch might have been against me there, but surely he would have been interested in both the fact the Death Watch survived his campaign against it, and was now reformed? Regardless, he's not here now, and that's all there is to it."

Again there was a powerful flash of some kind of emotion from Pol. Through the force Shaak once again sensed a deep concern and wariness at that statement. But there wasn't enough there to convince her to use her Force powers to investigate further.

After that the discussion went to what the two newcomers would be doing from here on. Tomorrow they would join Bo and a group of Reborn warriors in an open-air training complex in one of the cities on Mandalore, where they would, to put it bluntly, show off. After that, they would remain with Bo, training with her and her fellows, and speaking and talking to the Reborn faction until the start of the true clan conclave.

Shaak would then join her fellow Jedi as neutral observers and mediators. Ranma, on the other hand, would remain with Bo and the Reborn faction while the debates raged, which could take as long as month, or as little as a week. He wasn't happy about it until Bo commented that at least the mornings would all be devoted to training, even after the clan conclave started.

Shortly after that the group broke up, with Shaak and Ranma returning to the Wild Light for the night. Tess offered to show Ranma around the base, but he put it off, saying he wanted to listen to the audio version of the Resol'nare before getting some sleep. She did, however, wrangle a promise to 'show me some moves' from Ranma before letting him go, something that made Shaak roll her eyes.

Despite that, however, she felt no upsurge of jealousy at the idea, only amusement and some pity for the other woman's attempts. She felt far more secure in her and Ranma's relationship these days, so much so that her jealousy had mostly disappeared.

Watching the two of them and their droid walk off, Victor frowned, his head cocked to one side as he stared, not at Ranma or Shaak, but at HK's head. No, it couldn't be, could it? I've heard of odd coincidences, but if that droid really is the one who was owned by Revan that would be a sign from the Manda! And a very odd one at that…

OOOOOOO

After several hours of meditation Ranma was surprised to find that the rest of the day had passed while he was listening to the Resol'nare. In this version it read both as the code of honor and social obligation that Bo called it, and as a sort of history, since the author of the work went into detail about when changes were introduced. It was very much a pro-Mandalorian work, but interesting for all of that. Ranma had gotten large amounts of the other side of things from his time on Dac with Master Halcyon's holocron and from when he started researching the Death Watch after their assault on him on Coronet.

He understood a lot of its points, though he didn't agree with them all, and could understand the impact such a work could have on society. It's like a cross between Confucianism and Taoism, minus the quasi-religious overtones. At least today. Bo said it was a religion at one point. Still, I can see how it would spread and why it's survived for so long.

He looked up as Shaak moved in front of him, once more wearing the cloak that Ranma had given her. He smiled at the sight, letting Shaak pull him to his feet before they both moved over to the sofa. "So have you discovered any new insights into the Mandalorian mind?"

"Not any new ones, no, though I've got a better handle on the society, I think," Ranma replied, shaking his head as he moved to one side of the sofa, looking at Shaak thoughtfully. "The Tuang, do we know where they came from? They weren't native to this planet apparently."

"No, though they were obviously an ancient people long before they arrived here on Mandalore, I am afraid no historical archives go that far back. Why?"

"Some of it was obviously thought up during, well, I'd call it medieval times, way before space travel and such like. But I had hoped that there might be something more there. It was obviously a Martial code, rather than a martial arts one. Sad that." Ranma shrugged his shoulders. "My own Code might have bits and pieces that look like the Resol'nare, but the similarities aren't nearly as big as I had hoped. Still, that hardly matters. I gave my word I'd help Bo here, and I aim to keep it."

Shaak smiled, gently nipping at his neck for a moment. "You mean we aim to keep it, correct?"

"Wouldn't dream of implying anything else," Ranma replied, and they both laughed. Checking the time Ranma realized it was about time to turn in. Turning back to Shaak, he asked hesitantly, "Um, do you want to go to bed? Together, I mean?" As Shaak's eyes widened in surprise he went on hurriedly. "Er, I mean just to sleep, not to um, do anything. We, er, we've napped together but haven't actually slept in the same bed, y'know?"

"Ah," Shaak laughed, feeling rather silly to have jumped to a conclusion like that. "I," she paused, then her lips spread into a tender smile. "I think I would like that, Ranma. But," she laughed. "Should we use your bed or mine?"

OOOOOOO

Yoda stared at the two fire-teams of Nova Guard arrayed in front of him, then over at Master Ranicisis, with whom they had arrived. A faint smile appeared on his face as he nodded at the other Jedi Master. "Ranma, with the Mandalorian political crisis, busy he is. Interfere, you should not."

The Nova Guard's squad sergeant nodded his helmet agreeably. "Getting involved in another warrior culture's internal issues without invitation would be rather rude. We don't want to step on any toes, but we do wish to learn from Ranma." He was a veteran of the Yavin campaign, while the rest of his squad was all barely trained initiates. The generals had all thought that younger was better for this.

"Manners you have, good to see this is. Return here, Shaak Ti and Ranma will. Wait, you should," Yoda said. "Two small commissions in the meantime I have for you."

The sergeant nodded, and the two of them began to talk earnestly about the security of the Jedi temple here on Kashyyyk and the planet's own defenses. The Wookies were enthusiastic warriors, but not actual soldiers, and as such there was a lot of room for improvement. This would keep the Nova Guard busy until their target returned to Kashyyyk.

OOOOOOO

"Yow!" Ranma grunted, his head jerking up, one leg kicking out automatically as he felt something sharp hit his eye. This was followed immediately by a startled cry and a thump. "What the heck!?"

Memories of going to bed with Shaak Ti last night came back to Ranma as he rubbed at his eye. "Oh, wait, Shaak?"

Shaak pulled herself up off the floor, glaring daggers at Ranma. "You kicked me…" her glare lessened noticeably as she saw Ranma rubbing at one of his eyes. "Oh, did one of my montrals get you?"

"Er, I think so. Sorry for kicking you like that; it was a sort of conditioned response," Ranma said, still holding his eye. No matter how much you toughened your body, being hit in the eyes still hurt!

"I'm not hurt, Ranma, don't worry about it." She leaned over him, giving Ranma a very nice view down her night shift as she examined his eye. "Your toughness training is incredible, Ranma. That would probably have caused permanent damage in anyone else. Though you might have a shiner for a few hours; it's not healing as fast as your wounds normally seem to... Ranma?"

"Mmm oh yeah. Meh, it's not the first shot I've taken to the eye; don't worry about it," Ranma said, peeling his eyes away from the view with difficulty. "But if we want to make this a regular thing we might need to figure out how to stop something like that from happening again." He went on more hesitantly, staring up into Shaak's eyes. "That is, if you want to?"

"I would very much like to make this a regular thing, Ranma. However, I think if we do, we should think about rearranging our rooms to match and get a larger bed," Shaak said, returning Ranma's smile with a tender one of her own. Last night had been possibly the best night's sleep either of them ever had, once they had fallen asleep anyway. That had taken some time, neither used to sleeping with another person, but it was worth it in Shaak's mind. "Now, I believe it's your turn to cook breakfast."

About an hour later they met up with Bo Katan outside the training area they would be using for their training during their stay here on Mandalore. The ginger-haired woman cocked her head quizzically. "What happened to your eye?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it. The bruise'll be gone in a few minutes anyway." Ranma waved away Bo's question while Shaak's lips twitched trying to contain her chuckle.

Twelve minutes later, Ranma groaned to himself as he stared out for a moment from a small hallway leading out into the training area. "I am all for a fight, even a spar like this, but why the hell are we going to be put on display again?"

"You know why," Shaak replied, her voice calm having centered herself before they left the ship just moments ago. Besides that, Jedi were far too often on display in any event in high societies, and it was one of many things she had become used to over the years. However, normally a Jedi's training was not on display, so this would be an interesting moment. "Besides, we should both be used to onlookers watching us spar after our time on Eshan."

"Yeah, but here the audience is a lot larger and probably a lot rowdier," Ranma grumbled, before subsiding.

The training area was owned by one of the clans in a city a few hundred miles away fromKeldabe, the site where the clan conclave would take place. It had been a secondary spaceport during Mandalore's heyday, but had fallen behind the times since the Excision. It was also one of the few cities where the New Mandalorians and the Reborn factions were almost even in their influence and numbers. That made it a uniquely suitable place for open discussions and freewheeling debates, and Bo's setting up shop there had shouted an interesting message to everyone.

Waiting for them in the arena was Bo and seven other Mandalorians, three of whom wore the Reborn jungle camouflage of Yavin vets. Two of them were women, the other four were men. Tess was also there, balancing a pole arm on one shoulder which she was tapping against her shoulder eagerly. The others had blasters and vibro-knives along with their jet packs and armor, of course.

Shaak and Ranma walked up to them, nodding at those they knew from Yavin. Two of them Ranma recognized as being among Bo's original group, the Night Owls as they called themselves, an all-female group of the Death Watch that Bo had led. Ironically, most of them had survived their initial meeting in Coronet and they had all become staunch supporters of, as one of them put it Yavin, 'not kriffing Ranma off.'

"How are we going to do this?" Ranma asked, after introductions were done.

"You're going to face this group first," Bo said gesturing over to the others. "Then I'm going to face off against Shaak Ti." She smirked, and Shaak felt the anticipation rippling off the girl so strongly through the Force that she didn't even have to try to sense it. "I want to see if some new tricks I've come up with work on Jedi."

"Very well," Shaak said, moving over to the side of the Colosseum and leaning against the wall there. "Realize, however, that we are under a bit of a time limit this morning, so I would say we should limit ourselves to only about twelve minutes each. That way Ranma and I have some time at the end to spar between us."

Ranma nodded. "I'll agree with that. Besides I want to test your speed, Shaak. I think you might be ready to learn the Amiguriken technique. If Count Dooku could do it after training on his own, I bet you can now too."

Shaak's eyes lit up at the idea because she knew that was one step below starting to use Ranma's Living Force attacks, which the two of them had been talking about recently.

"That could be interesting to watch," Bo murmured, moving over to stand a little ways away from Shaak as Ranma and the Mandalorians he was going to fight took their positions. Above them in the seating of the stadium-like training area, traditional Mandalorian training being a public event and a way to show off, the crowd began to murmur to one another.

As soon as his opponents were set Ranma launched himself at the nearest one. But instead of taking to the air as the two who had seen him fight before probably thought he would, Ranma launched himself low along the ground, coming in like a bull, taking the Mandalorian's legs out from under him before grabbing him by the leg, upending him quickly.

The man in question still tried to shoot Ranma with his blaster, but Ranma dodged under the fire and hurled him into his fellow. That the target of the human missile was twenty feet away didn't matter at all to Ranma, and the two of them went down in a tangle of limbs before the second one could even get a shot off. "God damnit, Carter, get your hand off my chest plate!"

"Oh, as if you can feel anything through it, Vana!" the man retorted, trying to push himself up without the woman below him kicking him in the codpiece.

The remaining Mandalorians fired accurately at Ranma. Three of them took to the air, using their rocket packs to stay there raining fire down on Ranma as Tess and one of the others closed. Tess wielded her pole arm, its ends vibrating slowly like a vibro-weapon on training mode. The other wielded a baton whose end coruscated with energy.

Ranma ducked to one side from the fusillade coming at him from above, twisting his body around to dodge between the fire coming from the two closing with him rolling away so fast they couldn't track him for a moment. Grabbing up several rocks from the floor of the sparring area, Ranma hurled them up at the tri in the air as he came out of his roll.

That forced them to dodge, which interrupted their fire allowing him to close with Tess and her fellow before they could pull back as had obviously been the plan, since she hadn't used a rocket pack to race towards him like the others had to get into position. She raised her staff, thrusting the end out faster than Ranma would've thought she was capable of, but he still ducked under it, blocking the other end of it with one hand as it came up in turn before slamming a palm strike into her chest, hurling her backwards with an 'Ooof!" of expelled air, audible through her helmet .

The other man's baton came crashing in toward Ranma's back, but Ranma turned, one hand carrying the blow past him as his entire body turned, one foot coming up in a kick that slammed into the man's helmet. The man found himself airborne from the force of the blow, crashing into the wall of the training area.

At the same time however, Tess had let go of her staff with one hand, and fired one or her wrist rockets which had some kind of thin rope on the end of it. Instead of firing past Ranma however, the rocket actually turned under Tess's direction trying to wrap around him.

But Ranma turned, grabbing both her arm with one hand and the gyrocopter with the other day. "And a heave ho!" he shouted as he pulled, ducking at the same time. The gyrocopter's wire broke, but Tess still found herself hurled up and over Ranma's shoulders, into the line of fire from two of her fellows.

Their fire impacted her back, and it was only the fact that the blasters had been set to the training setting which saved her life. The impact of that many blaster bolts to a rocket pack would have caused it to explode under combat conditions.

Realizing this Bo shouted, "Tess, you're out!" She paused a moment, watching the man Ranma had kicked try to struggle to get to his knees, and shook her head. "And so are you, Jada. Tess, help him over to the wall."

"Damnit," Tess muttered even as she got up as the battle continued around her, grabbing her fallen comrade under one armpit and dragging him clear while the first two Ranma had dealt with rejoined the battle after getting their limbs all sorted out. She quickly moved to the side between Ranma and Bo, pulling off her helmet and wiping her hair out of her eyes. "I should never have volunteered to be the bait!"

Shaak looked at her quizzically, and Tess shrugged. "He was supposed to try and close with me as I closed with him, then be caught in the open from all sides. We didn't know he could cross that much space that quickly though or that he would target someone else first."

"Always expect the unexpected with Ranma," Shaak said with a shrug. "The only thing that you should always expect from him is adaptability."

The group of four Mandalorians remaining tried to keep their distance, using their rocket packs and blasters to good effect. But Ranma continued to dodge their fire, and then he shouted, "Moko Takabasha!" thrusting a fist towards one of the Mandalorians on the ground.

A cerulean sphere of energy the same size as his chest lashed out from Ranma's fist to the accompaniment of shocked exclamations and shouts of "what kind of weapon is that!" from the crowd.

The Mandalorian he targeted however was able to dodge the odd assault. The Living Force attack was actually a little slower than a blaster bolt, and he had seen Ranma thrusting his fist out towards him.

Ranma used that moment to jump sideways, leaping onto the wall and catapulting up into the air. He lashed out with something in his other hand, the gyrocopter that Tess used, which crashed into the flying Night Owl's head, sending her down to the ground with a crash as one of the others.

The two of them exchanged punches and kicks in midair, with the Mandalorian coming out the loser quickly. A double hammer blow to the back of the head slammed him down into the ground, and Ranma rode his body down where he flipped himself up and off, dodging more fire, but now he had the man's blaster in hand, and two seconds later, the three still fighting were down with blaster bolts hitting their chests and faces.

Bo growled angrily. "If we still had beskar armor those shots wouldn't have counted as kills! Seriously need to find a source of beskar at some point."

"Speaking of ancient items, what was the real story behind that robotic contraption we found on Eshan?" Shaak asked conversationally as the two of them pushed off the wall moving forward to take their positions.

Bo chuckled evilly. "You'll see, I hope. It's still being refurbished, but it will hopefully be done in time for the debates. At least, I hope it will be. I mean to make an impression when walking into the clan conclave, and that 'robotic contraption' is part of it."

"The rest being your armor's colors? I read a little bit about the wars between our people, and how officers sometimes would have a splash of color somewhere on their armor to denote their status, while important leaders would have a certain colored armor."

"Yes. These colors are worn by people who desire to challenge the status quo, to change our society and wish to announce that change." Bo Katan Kryze smirked evilly as she went on. "And when they first took power the New Mandalorians all wore clothing done up in these colors. It's sort of a double message there."

"Are you sure you haven't become a politician?" Shaak asked, laughing as she activated her lightsaber.

"Say that again after we fight!" Bo said as she crouched, her own hand dropping to the bottom of her backpack which extruded a lightsaber hilt.

Shaak watched with interest as Bo activated her own lightsaber, her eyes widening noticeably in the center of their white markings as she stared at the blade. "That's a very odd looking lightsaber."

Normal lightsabers were just that, swords obviously made of energy. But this one looked almost solid, made of black energy with crackling bits of lightning along the edges and the center, which looked like a blood trail would on a physical sword.

"It was created by the first Mandalorian to ever be inducted into your Order, which kept the blade for a while before his descendants stole it back. There's probably a story behind that, but I haven't found any records of it, unfortunately. Still, it's mine now, by right of taking over the old Death Watch," Bo said proudly, reaching up to her helmet and connecting it to her armor.

"Now," she said, her voice far tinnier through the helmet, though her anticipation still shone through easily. "Let's see how you do on a more even playing field."

Shaak's eyebrow rose. "You're not still irritated by my defeating you in that spar on Eshan, are you?"

"Not just that,no. But that's enough talking!" Bo replied, then charged.

Across from B,o Shaak matched her, stepping forward twice before stepping sideways once and bringing her lightsaber up to intercept her opponent's attack. From there she moved into a series of slashes, short economical moves from Makashi, followed quickly by wilder blows from Shii-Cho to throw Bo off-stride.

But Bo matched her, the Mandalorian's training and natural speed able to keep up. The two of them exchanged several blows for a few moments, moving around one another, getting the feel of each other's speed and strength. Neither was overly flamboyant in that first exchange, letting their weapons probe for weaknesses in style rather than trying to gain the upper hand right away.

Then Bo began to add other things into the equation. Between one slash and the next she disengaged by firing up her rocket pack, leaping high into the sky where she began to rain down fire on Shaak from a blaster she had clipped to her thigh before the fight. Then her other hand, which was still holding the Darksaber fired two rockets down at Shaak.

From the sidelines Ranma watched, cocking his head thoughtfully as Shaak replied using her lightsaber to block the incoming bolts and her Force powers to redirect the two rockets either side where they exploded harmlessly, obviously not carrying nearly as much explosives as they would normally. Huh, so that's probably why the Mandos don't use more grenades, thermal detonators, and things. Solid objects like that would be a really bad idea to try to use against a Force user. Still, "Bo's taking this seriously, isn't she?" he said aloud.

"Are you worried for your girlfriend?" said one of the Night Owls, smacking him on the shoulder. All of the veterans from Yavin knew about Ranma and Shaak's relationship, though most thought it a damned waste of a warrior. While many had come to respect Shaak Ti as a fighter, they doubted any Jedi could be anything more than a frigid lover. That didn't mean most who had seen them in action together were willing to try to get between them however.

"Nah," Ranma said confidently. "Shaak's got this. You think I've always sparred with her lightsaber to lightsaber? Adaptability is the key to my martial arts style, and I trained her to the same degree."

Bo seemed to realize that her change of tactics wasn't working after she had to dodge several of her own returned blaster bolts. While not known as a practitioner of Shien, Shaak of course knew it and could switch to that style at need for short amounts of time.

So instead Bo fired two more rockets at Shaak, then used her rocket pack to zoom away. She landed far enough away so that she could land and set herself before Shaak could close the intervening distance. By the time Shaak was ready, Bo too was rushing forward.

The two of them circled once more, lightsabers flashing this way and that, as Shaak's controlled, expertly coordinated style matched Bo's more wild sword style. The two of them even leaped around one another, Shaak using her Ranma-trained physical skills and the Force to aid her use of Ataru, while Bo used adroit bursts from her jet pack, showing a mastery with it that brought many a nod of respect from the audience.

Despite that Bo was having trouble, and she knew it. She'd practiced several dozen times with the Darksaber before, but she hadn't been able to practice against another lightsaber user. And while Bo's speed and reflexes were keeping her in the fight, Shaak's reflexes were better than hers, and her speed was simply incredible. Furthermore, Bo's use of her other weapons barely matched Shaak's ability to use her hands, feet, and the Force. In short, Bo was slowly losing.

"Dammit!" Bo growled inside her helmet. "Dammit! You're not better than me; you're not!"

While Bo might have given up on chasing after Ranma almost unbeknownst to Bo the fact that she had never been able to beat Shaak had rankled within her. Now she launched herself forward, her lightsaber flashing out in heavier and more powerful arcs as she sort of recreated Djem So, interspersing it with pointblank blaster shots from her pistol.

This seemed to take Shaak by surprise, pushing the Togrutan Jedi onto her back foot for a moment as she tried to adjust her style to match. This forced Shaak to drop into Soresu for a moment, not her preferred style by any means, but it allowed her time to analyze her opponent's new assault.

Despite that, Bo's advantage did not last long. She got close a time or two, her lightsaber barely flashing to either side of Shaak and burning her robe's outer edges since even on low power a lightsaber could burn clothing, but she could not tag the Jedi. This went on for around two minutes, then Shaak had recovered enough and began to batter Bo's assaults to either side, using her own enhanced strength to do it while also jumping around, leaping up, and using more redirected blows, mixing Ataru and Djem So freely.

Now it was Bo's turn to defend herself desperately, but she couldn't last for very long under Shaak's new assault. Soon her lightsaber was blasted to one side which opened her body up to a kick that send her reeling backwards.

Before she could activate her jet pack to gain more distance Shaak was there. Bo's lightsaber handle was sent flying out of her hand from a punch to the inside of her wrist, and Shaak's lightsaber was coming down to gently stop right above Bo's helmet.

"I believe I win," Shaak said, breathing hard for a moment before stepping back. "But that was impressive!" She went on deactivating her own lightsaber and reached down to pick up the other woman's lightsaber and handed it to her.

All around them the crowd muttered in discontent. Most of them had hoped to see the Jedi brought low, though more than half of them were still enthusiastic about the fight they just witnessed. Those among them who had already decided to back the Reborn, in particular, were looking at Bo in a new light. Over half of them hadn't seen her fight, being among the new recruits to her cause that she had gathered since returning to Mandalore.

Most of them knew that one-on-one most Mandalorians wouldn't do a very good job against a Jedi, in particular a Jedi like Shaak, who rumor said specialized in combat. She wasn't a well-known Jedi yet, but there were still a lot of rumors about her role in the Yavin campaign thanks to the Reborn vets.

Bo, however, had held her own for more than twenty minutes using all the tricks of the Mandalorian's book to do it, and had seemed to almost win a time or two as well. That made Bo's status rise exponentially in their eyes. The fact the Jedi had given Bo Katan's lightsaber back and hadn't commented much on it being in her possession was also a factor to some of their thinking.

"I thought I had you," Bo muttered, pulling off her helmet and moving to the side with Shaak as Shaak did the same, eager to divest herself of her robe before fighting Ranma. Having lost at least two spars when Ranma grabbed onto her robe and was able to offset her balance slightly, she had no eagerness to go through that again, or the accompanying lecture.

"Would you like me to apologize?" Shaak asked sardonically, deliberately repeating the words she remembered using after their spar on Eshan.

Bo growled at her, but there was no heat in it. Her anger had simply burned itself out during their spar, and what was left was amused irritation that the Jedi was better than her. For now, anyway. But I bet I can get more out of training with Ranma over the next few weeks, and maybe even find some ancient Tuang sword styles and make them fit the lightsaber. Then we'll see, Shaak Ti!

Aloud Bo quipped, "I'd punch your teeth in if you did!" using her own words from Eshan back to Shaak, and the two women smiled at one another before separating.

Ranma frowned, looking at them, as he slowly moved away from the wall. "Something happened there, and I don't know what…"

"Don't bother about it, my friend," said one of the other Mandalorians, chuckling. "Whatever their race, women aren't easy to understand. Indeed, I often think they are difficult just to keep up the mystery."

"Too damn right!" said another one of the men, only to be thumped on his shoulder by one of the women. Tess, on the other hand was quiet, looking between Shaak and Bo thoughtfully, then over to Ranma, her eyes narrowed slightly as if she was trying to work out a problem.

Shaak smiled at Ranma, feeling a thrill as he couldn't stop his eyes from going up and down her body for a moment, before feeling somewhat self-conscious about being out in public like this. Now that the door to her own sexuality had been opened, so to speak, Shaak realized she understood more of the emotions she picked up via the Force from those around her. Before that she wouldn't have been able to recognize that they were thinking about her to that extent.

Pushing those thoughts out, Shaak closed her eyes momentarily, centering herself once more in the Force as she activated her lightsaber, bringing it forward into a position held over her shoulder, her free hand forwards in an open palm stance. When she opened her eyes they were clear of worry and doubt, and her lips twitched upwards as she locked eyes with Ranma. "You're not going to use your staff?"

Ranma shook his head, crouching down lightly, his own hands coming up into a guard position of his own, for once. "No, I figure we're supposed to be putting on a show, so why don't you put that lightsaber of yours up to max, and we'll see what gives out first, your ability to keep up with me, or my ki shields."

He said that in a loud voice, and a hush fell over the audience as they watched, and Shaak nodded slowly, flicking her lightsaber's power settings up to full.

"How do we know that's real?" shouted someone in the crowd.

Ranma shrugged his shoulders and Shaak stabbed the ground, her lightsaber burning straight through the rock and sand for a moment before pulling it back out. The edge of the hole had been glassed, the top most sand heated into glass. "Does that satisfy you?" she asked archly, not turning away from Ranma.

The heckler fell silent, and Ranma and Shaak launched themselves forward.

It turned out that Shaak was able to win this fight, slowly but surely, until Ranma began to use the Amiguriken against her. She fought desperately to combat it, her hands barely moving just as fast, but she couldn't keep it up for long enough, and between one exchange and the next Ranma's fist found her jaw, smashing into it with enough power to hurl her backwards. She rolled with it, but Ranma was in her face. not letting her have any time to set herself again, and soon her lightsaber was pushed down, plunging into the ground with one of his hands holding it there.

Even as Shaak reared back intending to try to kick him away, Ranma's other hand flashed out, tapping her chest twice and then her face once, faster than most of the onlookers could track. All they saw was a blur which various video recordings would be able to slow down into those three punches later.

For his part Ranma was singed here and there, and his ki shields had given way quickly. He hadn't, after all, wanted to knock himself out for the rest of the day, and his legs, arm, and shoulder were all marked by burn marks which were slowly healing as he moved towards the wall.

"How long would it take us to learn that? And can it be learned?" Bo asked intently, her eyes gleaming with interest. "The speed thing, I mean. I imagine that's easier than whatever the hell you're doing to heal yourself right in front of our eyes!"

"I don't know if the shield technique could be learned by people who can't already use the Force, same for the healing. But the rest, that's about 13 or 14 years of training. Mind you, meditation and previous training in other disciplines can help cut that down a lot. And training against other competent opponents will help push you along as well. Shaak here is ready for the speed training after only half a year or so."

"And you'd be willing to teach us this," Tess asked, just as intently as Bo, her eyes locked on Ranma's face like a targeting reticule as she voiced the question that many in the audience had at the moment.

"I'd be willing to train with you while I'm here, but I'm not going to stay on planet after the clan conclave is over. I have my own ongoing training to think of, after all, and I want to explore the galaxy too! Though I'd be willing, I suppose, to give you pointers and tips while I'm here so you can further your own training while I'm gone. I promised Bo that I would."

That silenced the crowd until one person in the far back said slowly, "So… we should figure out ways of slowing the conclave down?"

Bo turned that the direction of that voice and gave the owner of it the finger, a universal gesture that Ranma was amused to see had crossed dimensions. "If you do that, I swear to God I will hunt you down miro'sik (shit for brains)!"

Ranma, however, had to make a statement right then to offset the jolt in the arm he'd given Bo's faction. "However, this comes with a price." Ranma waited until the crowd had quieted down again. "I told Bo this same thing on Yavin. In my mind warriors who don't care why they are fighting, only that they fight, are scum. There is honor in the warrior who searches for opponents to challenge himself against to raise his personal skill, and there is honor in the people who defend others who cannot defend themselves. There is no glory in the warrior who preys upon the weak or to conquer to bring themselves riches and 'glory.'

He paused, staring out into the crowd. "I've read the Resol'nare." Ranma saw Bo and Shaak's lips both twitch, knowing he had actually only listened to the Common translation of the Resol'nare, but neither woman interrupted him. "And there's a lot of it I like, but there's no denying that in the past you Mandalorians became that type of warrior people. You conquered, you enslaved, and you committed genocide, simply because you could. Look at what happened a few hundred years ago when only a few clans of you decided to strike out at the Ithulans. You wiped out their planets in a war of genocide for no damn reason I could find!"

Into the silence that followed that, Ranma went on. "If you throw off the New Mandalorians' government and society but do not change to the code Bo Katan Kryze is trying to create; if you become, once more, conquerors instead of defenders, I will stand against you. My own Code would demand it. You have not seen nearly all I can do yet, and you don't ever want to."

For a moment after Ranma stopped speaking. No one said anything, but then Ranma began to motion for Bo and Shaak to move out into the training area and began to walk them both through some of his own training. Eventually he started to wave the others he had fought forward, and began them on simpler exercises, while the crowd, for the most part, simply watched on.

Several hours later as she was sitting down after a shower, Shaak chuckled. "For someone that doesn't like public speaking Ranma, you certainly are able to get your points across when you try."

"Are we sure that was necessary?" Ranma grunted irritably as he came out of his own shower, staring at Shaak and Bo and the others of her inner circle who were waiting for him.

Bo nodded. "At the moment most of the public only have a very vague idea of the changes I want to make to the Resol'nare and our way of life, though a lot of groups here and there are acting out against the New Mandalorians because of their pacifistic stance. We need to keep ahead of that wave, which means your techniques and skills are needed to grab people's interest."

"At the same time, the people needed to know both why you were willing to train me and those I chose, and that there was a downside to it: that your agreeing to help us further is based on our own actions. That will make people realize I'm serious about the changes I want to make to the Resol'nare, and that there's no way to have their rishi and eat it too." Bo finished, then grinned at him, one hand ruffling her short-cropped, orange hair. "Your little impromptu speech and the skills you showed are just what the doctor ordered, frankly."

"I don't like it," Ranma said with a sigh. "I don't like being put on display like that, and I don't like the fact that everyone is going to see a lot of what I can do. Still," he said after a moment, smirking now, "it's not like I've shown everything I can do, after all. I was telling the truth about that. Hell, I haven't used several of my deadliest attacks since before I met Dooku."

"Speaking of being on display," Bo said, looking at Shaak. "Did you know that there are apparently a few intergalactic news agencies due to arrive soon?"

"No…" Shaak said slowly, staring at the other woman and carefully hiding her shock. "This is the first I've heard of it. I had fully expected the Order to try to keep word of what is going on here and what it could mean long-term from spreading at all."

"Apparently the Senate had other ideas. You might want to check in with your fellows before too long," Bo said dryly. "Whatever. I'm done with you for the day. I'm going to be answering questions about your techniques and what I know about them and how I got to be as good as I am in so short a time for the rest of the day. I'll see you back here tomorrow afternoon? We should assume that will have to have a small question-and-answer session before training tomorrow and maybe keep that schedule up going forward."

"Gah, more public speaking?" Ranma asked, visibly shuddering at the thought.

"No, just questions about your techniques. Shaak will probably have a lot harder questions to answer. Her role in the debates, what the hell the Jedi are playing at, what the Jedi think about the Reborn, the New Mandalorians, where the kriff you get off on poking your noses into our business, that kind of thing," Bo said, waving her hand airily while Clento, Pol, and Tess all smirked.

Shaak nodded with aplomb, ignoring the other woman's pointed tone and the others' smirks with ease. She had known coming into this that she would be facing a lot of opposition simply because she was a Jedi; it wasn't something she was wholly unfamiliar with, after all.

"I will certainly be able to handle that," she said simply. "After all, while I'll probably be forced to join Master Plo Koon and Obi-Wan when the debates actually begin, I am not involved in the actual debate. I think we'll simply be making certain that all points are heard, and that violence does not break out outside certain set regulations."

"You don't actually use gladiatorial combat to decide political positions do you?" She asked looking over at Bo, a twinkle in her own eyes as she tried to turn the conversation back against the Mandalorians.

Bo shrugged sadly. "Not anymore, though at some point we might reintroduce it in the future if the Reborn win. But it's doubtful that it would ever be used for any major decision or important position. Pity."

Shaak rolled her eyes, standing up to join Ranma as he did the same, laughing with the Mandalorians. "Well, in any event, it's time for us to leave. I have yet to meet with my compatriots, after all. Until tomorrow, everyone." With that the two of them left, picking up HK at the Wild Light and using the ship to travel to Sundari.

"Well, that was interesting," Tess murmured, cracking one of her shoulders irritably while Pol and Clento left quickly. "Thought I'd do better than that, honestly."

"Given that Ranma put me on my ass twice in two minutes the first time he and I sparred. you didn't do too badly," Bo replied dryly before cocking her head to one side as she looked at the younger woman. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all," Tess muttered, shaking her head, before locking eyes with Bo, her eyes somehow demanding Bo Katan's attention. "Why did you let him go, again?"

"I didn't let him go. I let him/her go. You haven't seen his curse in action yet. It was a deal breaker for me," Bo replied dryly.

"Curse?" Tess asked, one eyebrow rising in surprise. "What curse?"

OOOOOOO

Taking the Wild Light from that city to Sundari took no time at all, and Ranma set the ship down in the bio-cube's landing pad quickly, joining Shaak and HK in the sitting room before exiting. They found a car waiting for them which spirited them through the city to the palace, much to Ranma's chagrin: he had wanted. after all, to explore a little. He'd never been inside a bio-cube before. Shaak consoled him with a pat on the shoulder, promising him they would get to it eventually.

They were met at the palace by Plo Koon and Obi-Wan, who exchanged greetings with Shaak and Ranma quickly before ushering them into a meeting room. "The Duchess is busy with some of her own advisers at the moment, but they won't take long and we need to be brief," Plo Koon began. "The Senate has decided to issue us some commands about what to do here."

Shaak's eyebrows rose in surprise, while Ranma simply stared on, unimpressed and uncaring. "Bo Katan said something along those lines," Shaak replied, "but I thought it mere rumor. What exactly are these orders? And does the Order agree we have to follow them?"

"There will probably be noticeable repercussions if we try not to down the line, but the Order will abide by our decisions as the men on the spot," Plo Koon said slowly. He briefly outlined his discussion with the two senators and with Master Windu afterwards, and Shaak's frown deepened.

"They're trying to put us into a corner," she said slowly frowning heavily.

Obi-Wan replied, shaking his head. "I don't know if it's fear of the Mandalorian themselves, or fear that their growing stronger might change the status quo, or simple political maneuvering trying to force us to act in such a manner in order to regain some of the Senate's loss of control over the Jedi. But it's coming at a very inopportune time for us given the changes Master Windu is trying to push in our security."

"What are your thoughts on this, Ranma?" Plo Koon asked looking over at him. "As an outsider, you have a unique view of what is going on here."

"Well I couldn't care less about the Senate. They can sit and spin, for all I care."

At their blank looks, Ranma sighed, holding up a hand in a fist before extending his middle finger. "Sit, and spin," he said, moving his other hand around the middle finger. "Picture that was one of their asses and you get the idea."

The three Jedi all blinked, then Shaak rolled her eyes and Obi-Wan groaned, shaking his head. "Never let him near the Senate," he ordered Shaak, pointing at Ranma.

"Never want to be near the Senate," Ranma said, pointing at himself then laughing. "What are you going to do?" he asked more seriously after a second, looking over at Plo Koon.

"I have yet to get my own impression of the planet," the Kel Dor replied obliquely. "I will wait to do that before saying anything one way or another. However, I will say now that I am not impressed by the Senate's high-handed attitude here. The fact that it did not come from the Chancellor's office, however, is interesting to me. Traditionally the chancellor is the only one who can truly dictate demands to the Jedi Order."

"Master Mace hinted that he was not in this case because he was busy trying to remove the Trade Federation's status as an armed body from the Arming Rights Treaty. Even so Chancellor Palpatine could still have been involved if he wanted to be. That he is not takes away much of the pressure on the Order."

"Regardless, I will do what serves justice the most rather than transient politics or ancient fears." He looked back at Ranma, nodding his head slightly. "You are right about that at least. Given its timing, the Excision was simply an act of fear to remove a possible future threat without any true evidence that said threat was, in fact, going to occur. We were wrong there, and by the end of these debates everyone will know that we have acknowledged that."

Shaak and Obi-Wan looked at Plo Koon questioningly at that, but he refused to say more, and a second later the door opened revealing a palace servant who asked them to follow him. They were quickly led to a somewhat larger meeting room directly next to Satine's personal receiving area and her favorite balcony.

Satine sat there as she had when Obi-Wan arrived, peering down at two dataslates rather than four, and she put them aside waving off a man who had been trying to get her attention as the Jedi and their friend entered. She took a moment to look at Ranma quizzically, wondering what how the young man had so changed the way her sister looked at both the Resol'nare and the Death Watch, before turning to more important matters.

"Well," she said simply, "please take a seat. I take it you are Knight Shaak Ti? I have to admit to some ambivalence about your role in all this as well as that of your… companion."

The last word came out slowly, as she stared at Ranma, then Shaak, before looking over to Obi-Wan. "I have heard some strange rumors coming out of the Reborn that you two are involved?" she said, still slowly. "I had thought Jedi were not allowed to have such attachments; that it got in the way of their ability to use the Force?"

Shaak laughed, shaking her head. "Not quite. Relationships open us up to emotions, however, and emotions are difficult to control when connected to the Force. They can turn on you, good emotions becoming bad ones, love turning into jealousy, you understand?" Sabine nodded quickly, and Shaak went on. "Because of that concern, Jedi are taught to control their emotions to an extreme, and are not habitually allowed to form relationships in this day and age, though that was not always the case. I retook my vows in the Old Oath, and was allowed to pursue my relationship with Ranma due to his unique talents and skills."

She was squeezing Ranma's hand as she said that, making it certain that Ranma understood that it wasn't just because she had been interested in his techniques that she had been interested in him in the first place. But Ranma simply smirked, smacking her shoulder with his and squeezing her hand back for a moment before they sat down.

"I see," Satine said slowly, frowning thoughtfully at that before shaking her head and visibly changing the subject. "Still, you understand that we have a situation on this planet?"

"The referendum on your government yes," Shaak said simply. "Understandable, considering that from what little I've been able to gather already you do not actually speak for the majority of the planet."

"We have done so for years!" Satine shot back. "For over 700 years it has been the New Mandalorians and our government, our organizational structure. Our way of life that has kept the peace here and has kept the planet as a whole from falling back into barbarity!"

"Wow, you're horrible as a leader," Ranma said bluntly, shaking his head. As Satine stared at him in shock and rising anger Ranma simply shook his head. "The first duty of a leader isn't to actually lead his people, not to make decisions or any of that shit. The first duty of a leader is to see the universe as it really is, not as he or she wants it to be. You need to see your people as they are, not as you want them to be."

"That kind of vision is nice and all, but you're letting it trump reality, which isn't good at all for anyone. If I were you," Ranma went on, ignoring Shaak's attempt to whack him on the thigh with her hand to get him to stop speaking as Satine's face clouded over with fury. "I'd look at ways of either working with the Reborn in this transition, or softening your own position on nonaggression and pacifistic ways. That way you could undercut Bo's position a little and maybe direct your people's warlike ways like she is hoping to. If you're just simply going to stand on your high horse and say that any kind of aggression is wrong and only pacifism works, then what exactly are you offering the majority of your people who seem to think that your ways aren't really needed any longer?"

"You sound just like my sister!" Satine said tartly, her anger having faded somewhat as Ranma went on. "However I…"

Satine was interrupted at that point by the sound of glass breaking and Plo Koon's lightsaber hum filling the air, followed by the particular "FZZZ-Spang!" sound that a blaster bolt made when intercepted by a lightsaber. They all turned quickly to see that Plo Koon had leapt out of his chair, crossing the intervening feet between his original position and Satine, his lightsaber intercepting a blaster bolt meant for the back of her head.

"That is not a good sign!" Plo Koon said almost conversationally while Ranma raced past him heading out onto the balcony.

"HK!" Ranma shouted as he leaped over the balcony like a dolphin doing a dive.

In response to that shout a single blaster bolt rang out, and there was a scream from somewhere on the palace grounds. "Prideful statement: I believe I got him Master, though if you wish him alive to answer questions you might wish to hurry," the droid said, moving from where he had been stationed on a nearby rooftop to the palace grounds. "Impressed reflection: your powers of paranoia are most formidable."

"Nice shot, bot." Ranma said as he landed easily, making his way through the trees faster than any monkey ever could, calling over his shoulder, "Send someone with medical supplies after me!"

Thanks to HK's shot the would-be assassin wasn't going anywhere. But a small hover car fit for two people tried to lift off from a nearby hiding place as Ranma closed in. Ranma, however, caught the man inside, smashing the dome covering the driver's seat and ripping him out of the car, allowing the car to crash once more down to the ground.

By the time medical aid arrived along with the palace security, Ranma had both the driver and the shooter tied up and had done what he could to aid the man HK had shot. That was scant little, admittedly, but they still had the driver to question.

"They are brothers from one of the clans that are most against both the New Mandalorians and the Reborn, mores the pity," Satine said two hours later after her forensic and intelligence people had begun going over the car and questioning the driver. This is a sign of why I am so against the Reborn at all. My sister's faction has opened the door for the violence that I and my people have been so desperately trying to drain out of our people's souls."

"You can't drain something without giving it an outlet," Ranma said, sighing. "What you were trying was in fact damming up said violence. Get your metaphors right."

Satine glared at him. "I do not like you."

Ranma shrugged his shoulders. "That's nice. Joined the millions of other people who don't." He looked over at Shaak quizzically. "It would be millions by this point, right? I imagine the Trade Federation, various bounty hunters, and everyone involved with the slave trade don't like me at this point."

"Probably, yes, if they know of your involvement at all. And I imagine by this point the Bounty Hunter's guild rather abhors you," Shaak said judiciously, her lips twitching at Ranma's attempt at humor.

One day I will make you laugh aloud in public, Shaak, I swear I will, Ranma thought, sending a smirk at her.

"This event simplifies things," Obi-Wan said simply. "Shaak and Ranma can openly be on Bo's side at this point, while I remain by Satine's. Master Plo Koon can be the true middleman here until the debate begins, whereupon we will all join him."

"That could work, yes," Plo Koon said with a nod. "Indeed, I think you should remain with Satine for security reasons. She could be a target for more assassination attempts, after all, and you have some history saving her from said."

Obi-Wan flushed at that, grateful that Kel Dor wasn't such a master of human facial expressions so as to realize why he was embarrassed about that bit of history.

"Still, that is a plan going forward," Plo Koon went on thoughtfully. "I wish to get my own read on the planet, so I will disappear into the general populace for a time using Force Cloak. Hopefully that will allow me to get out of the public eye for a time and realize how prevalent the anger against the New Mandalorians is rather than the simple desire to move back to their own warlike ways, and the general opinion on the Republic and the Jedi."

"You realize we're all walking a very fine edge here," Shaak said, looping one arm around Ranma's as Ranma simply nodded agreement with her. "This whole planet could blow up in our faces all too quickly for numerous reasons. If we're seen as backing the New Mandalorians, the Reborn and the other factions aligned against them will see it as a betrayal. If we don't back the New Mandalorians, the New Mandalorians will see it as a betrayal, and the Senate might act against the Order as a whole. And regardless of what we do we are still Jedi, and anything we do will be seen as both foreign influence and that of enemies by too many."

"I realize all that, but we have a duty to perform, and hopefully my first announcement when this clan conclave truly begins will mitigate a lot of the anger towards us."

"Don't hold your breath," Ranma said shaking his head.

OOOOOOO

At the same time the assassination attempt occurred, there were numerous discussions going on not only in the city where Ranma's exhibition had taken place, but elsewhere, the news of it spreading via recordings of the event. Unfortunately for Bo's state of mind, the majority of them did not have to do with Ranma's actual skills, or at least not directly with the skills. No, a lot of people were wondering about something else almost entirely unconnected to that.

The discussion in one particular tavern was a snapshot of the discussion going on around the planet at the moment:

"I can't believe a warrior like that is with the Jetii (Jedi)!" said one woman, shaking her head and staring across the table at another woman who had actually been there and seen the fight in person. It was the woman's recording they had been watching before this point. "Are we sure that's not just a rumor? They fought each other viciously enough."

"You didn't see the glances or looks; the cameras really aren't good at capturing that kind of thing from this far a distance. Their fight was just as much flirtation as actual combat, believe me," the other woman replied.

"And he's really that good? That strong and powerful? Are we sure that this Jetii didn't turn her lightsaber's power down again after that little display with her stabbing into the floor?"

"Positive. Besides, look at this." So saying, the other woman zoomed in on her camera. The others at the table her crowded all around to watch as one of the burn marks on Ranma's forearm slowly healed itself.

"That's amazing! And anyone can learn how to do that?"

"It apparently has to do with that Force osik (crap) that the Jetii habitually use. But instead of reaching out, you reach within. The more you try, the more you have. It almost sounds like any other muscle, you now?"

"Certainly makes a lot more kriffing sense than most of the mumbo-jumbo the Jetii spout," grumbled one older woman, shaking her head. "Dar'yaiim (hell), if only he'd been found by a Mandalorian first!"

"Agreed," said another woman, her voice somewhat gravelly. She was a newcomer, but a few of the others had vouched for her when she came into the bar. "From what rumors I've heard, he took up with the Jetii because he met them first. Then they waved the Togrutan in front of him and like any man he started to think with his dick."

"She is attractive," said one of the other women thoughtfully, a Twi'lek woman with scars crisscrossing her face. "Somewhat, anyway. But humans and Togrutans can't breed can they? If he has any sense of his own legacy he can't be with her forever."

"I wonder what kind of lover a Jedi could be anyway, even one as good-looking as that," said another woman thoughtfully. "Missionary position all the way I bet. Just lie there and take it, do your duty osik."

A lot of the other women laughed, then exchanged bawdy ideas about what they would do with someone as good-looking as Ranma. Essentially what the female position boiled down to was that while Shaak and Ranma seemed to be together, that didn't really matter much many. Many women among the Reborn who hadn't seen his curse in action or who had but didn't care thought that getting Ranma away from the Jedi would be good for him, that he had far more in common with their people than he did with the Jedi.

Further, most thought that if Ranma could be convinced to renounce his connection to the Jedi they could push him into becoming the next Mandalore, though where that idea came from no one really could say. With that kind of a figurehead, the Reborn faction could unite all of the disparate pro-conflict and armament factions into a single unified entity far more easily than the ongoing talks and deal-making Bo was using now.

Others simply saw winning him over as a perfect opportunity to one up a Jedi. That concept was remarkably appealing to the women, both as women and as Mandalorians. The male conversations going on elsewhere in that tavern were not nearly as sophisticated, though the outcome was much along the same line as that final point of the women's side of things.

"So this Ranma and the Jedi are involved? Good for him, cracking a Jetii's shell can't be an easy thing to accomplish."

"She's apparently been given permission to be involved with him or some such crap according to a servant in the palace. I assume it's just because the Jettiise (Jedi plural) have finally began to realize that their whole monk osik isn't really working for the long term, or in the short term, for keeping them sane."

"Could be," said another voice thoughtfully. "But come on, she is gorgeous! I doubt it took much convincing on their part for Ranma to jump at the chance."

"Yeah, but she's a Jetii. You heard the women over there," said one man, gesturing to where the women had fallen into giggles at something, which he resolutely did not try to overhear. "She's probably a cold gihaal (fish)."

"Who cares about that? It just means that whoever cracks her outer shell will be the one to teach her. Besides, she's a Jetii. Think about what it could mean to dominate one of those upright bastards?" There was a contemplative silence at that point and more than a few dark grins as many men thought about how much fun it could be to taint a Jedi like that.

In short, while Ranma's skills interested many in him that was but the beginning as many saw it. And both in this particular bar and elsewhere on the planet, many people of both genders decided to test the waters, so to speak, between Ranma and Shaak Ti. The changes to the Resol'nare and Ranma's skills were interesting of course, but at present the more personal aspects fascinated a lot of people.

OOOOOOO

As they were boarding the Wild Light for the evening, having refused to take accommodations either in the palace or elsewhere, both Shaak Ti and Ranma stopped, shivering. "What was that!?" Shaak said, looking around wildly, extending her Forces senses to the max trying to figure out what had just caused her sense of alarm.

"That was your sixth sense warning you that something was going to happen soon. It was about something embarrassing or worrying, not something violent, I don't think. It wasn't that kind of a shiver," Ranma said, also looking around warily.

"I do not like the sound of that at all," Shaak muttered, shaking her head.

OOOOOOO

Ranma and Shaak noticed a difference in how the locals treated them almost immediately the next day. At first it was simply that the locals seemed to be much more respectful. News of the exhibition match and training Ranma had run yesterday went around the planet with the speed of rumor, which as any intelligent person knew was so fast it made hyperspace look slow. However, after they had separated after a breakfast with Bo Katan, they began to see a distinct and unwelcome difference in how the localsactedtowards them.

Having gone to the same Coliseum they'd used before with Bo, Ranma was the first to run into this new issue. He found the viewing seats clogged with newcomers, all of them talking earnestly to one another as he arrived. Most of the crowd seemed to be made up of women, with a scattering of men in clumps here and there. Most of them were human, but a few of both genders were aliens: Twi'leks, Duros, and several others who Ranma hadn't seen before.

The Mandalore way was inclusive; anyone could become a Mandalorian so long as they were adopted into it and followed some basic tenets of the Resol'nare. Though up to this point Ranma hadn't met many nonhuman Mandalorians. Only three of the Mandalorians who fought on Yavin had been nonhuman, all three of them being male Jarkelians.

As he entered all the talk ceased, and every eye turned to him. The feel of that many eyes turning to him so suddenly made Ranma feel as if someone had just aimed a broadside at him, and he stiffened for a moment before throwing his shoulders back and walking forward confidently. This is about martial arts! This is my specialty! I'm not going to let the fact that there is…oh wow, there are a lot of them… I mean, I'm not going to let the fact that a lot of people are watching me do what I do get in my way! Just think of it as if you're back on Earth at Furinkan having a match in front of the rest of the school, Ranma.

He looked at Bo, pushing her shoulder playfully and moving forward. "So, anything specific ya want ta start with first?" Despite his internal monologue Ranma's original 'hick Corellian' accent had come back for a moment.

One of the people Bo had chosen to work out with Ranma rather than watch today asked, "What do you do for a warm-up?" He was a tall man with a scar running down one half of his face and wore tan and brown armor like many of the locals seemed to as sort of default colors.

Bo shrugged. "Actually, I've never seen him do a warm-up."

"You wouldn't survive one of my warm-ups," Ranma said with a grin, getting into the swing of things now. "Still, that gives me a starting point. We'll do some starting katas first, a set of ten each I think, and run through them six times or so each. Each time we'll add weights to make it more difficult. How much does that armor of yours way normally?"

"Normally around 30 pounds standard," Bo replied promptly. "The backpack adds another forty pounds on top of that without the jetpack, with it adds sixty."

Ranma blinked. "Okay, that's a little lighter than I expected but still heavy enough that you'll have to compensate for it. You got any spares?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Bo Katan said, and motioned over to a few of the Night Owls who grinned and pulled out some armor from a crate nearby.

Moving forward they eagerly pushed Ranma back into the changing area following after him quickly despite his protests, while Bo and a few others came around to watch events with various levels of amusement and interest showing on their faces. Ranma twitched and flushed a little at how hands-on they were during the exercise. At one point he had to slap a hand away from trying to adjust his codpiece. "I can do that myself, thank you!"

"I don't know about that. We might have that have to get a special size fitted!" said one of the newcomers nearby, and several of the others laughed.

Pol, who was there with all three of his sons, slapped Ranma on the shoulder commiseratingly. "Don't let them go too far with that kind of thing," he whispered, "and don't get too upset about it all either. It'll grow old for them eventually so long as you don't respond. If you do respond, however you do, it'll just encourage some of them. Just don't agree to any one-on-one spars without Shaak Ti around and you'll be fine."

"What happens if I get talked into a spar like that?" Ranma asked, though he already had a pretty good idea.

"You've been to Eshan? We Mandalorians believe in combat as flirting too. You might find yourself with a new admirer or a dozen if you're not careful," Pol warned.

"Thanks for the advice," Ranma groaned, having anticipated that but not to this extent. This is going to be a long day.

Exiting the room Ranma quickly made his way back to the main training area and moved to stand in front of the small class. "All right, this is going to be part training, part meditation exercise. I hope to start training you toward what my people sometimes call gnosis."

The last word came out in Japanese, and more than one of his listeners frowned trying to place the strange language.

"Me, I just call it the Zone. The Jedi call it becoming one with the Force, and they are a lot better at achieving it then me, but they've got a lot of advantages too. The description of it is sort of becoming one with yourself and your body. When your thoughts stop, almost, and all you are concentrating on is the feeling of your own body. It's the earliest kind of meditation I ever learned, and it was the first kind of meditation that I learned where I could feel the ki, the energy, within my own body."

"That's that Force stuff, right?" asked one of the newcomers, scowling. "The stuff the Jetii use?"

"Not quite. Where I come from there is no Force as the Jedi understand the term. But there is energy in inside the human body, and if you have enough of it you can slowly start to learn how to manipulate it." Ranma did not want to go into the differences between his planet and this galaxy for many, many reasons. It just wasn't worth the hassle.

Instead he held up a hand which suddenly glowed blue, and he turned firing out a Moko Takabasha quickly towards the wall. It exploded on impact leaving a scar as if a mid-size blaster bolt had struck it.

"That's the attack you used yesterday! So it really didn't come from a weapon of some kind," said a young man in the front row thoughtfully, the only young man in said row, which Ranma just noticed. "And you say anyone can learn how to use this?"

"That is at least seven or eight years in the future for someone who is starting from no background whatsoever. Your training might help you cut a few years down from that, but it'll still be a while. Put it like this: Shaak Ti, who I've been training with for a little under half a year now, is still not quite up to it yet, and she has the Force and all the Jedi tricks to help her along. You won't see anything like that for a long time. But don't think that won't mean you won't see a difference in your skills soon."

"Just look at her," Ranma said pointing at Bo Katan, who was also in the front row having sunk into the starting stance of one of Ranma's personal katas, holding it for a moment, her eyes closed. Nearby two Night Owls Ranma didn't know and Tess had followed her example without being told to, though they were still watching Ranma intently. "Bo Katan is better already than she was when we first met, and we only trained together for around three weeks. Her endurance, speed, and strength are well beyond where they were before, right?"

"Not so much strength," Bo Katan said cautiously. "But my endurance and speed has. But now that I think about it, that could be my Eshani heritage allowing me to learn faster than most Mandos."

The challenge in her words was obvious, and everyone there stiffened, glaring first of her then at Ranma with even more intensity than before, urging him to get on with it so they could prove her wrong. Young or old, Mandalorians could not back away from a challenge like that.

I am having a serious case of déjà vu here, Ranma thought to himself as he saw how easily Bo Katan manipulated them all, and how seriously they took even that minor a challenge to their skills as warriors. Still, that was fine by him. "All right, let's get started."

Several times during that training session Ranma was asked to help one or another woman move through the katas he was showing everyone. Both times the girl insisted on him literally moving her body for her into the right position, though Ranma caught onto what this meant the second time and refused to do so again.

Later one woman asked him to come by the weapons range to show her his weapons. The way she said it made Ranma blush, and the wink she gave him was so suggestive he became almost flustered. But he was able to refuse all the same.

Throughout the rest of that morning Ranma dealt with similar issues, many of the women attempting to come onto him in various ways. Most were open about it, almost brazen in comparison to his old fiancés (save Shampoo), though when asked about it later Bo replied their actions were pretty normal for Mando women.

A few of them, however, were playing it much slower, trying to get him to recognize them as individuals first. This group gave him their names, touching him only occasionally on the arm or shoulder while asking him to show them some of the katas, and staring deeply into his eyes.

Ranma recognized what the first type was doing, but the second's actions slipped past his radar. Nor did he really have any idea how to respond to the first group. Despite Pol's advice he froze up occasionally, which for some of these women was almost as amusing as the initial idea of taking him away from a Jedi. Other times, he would gabble and jump away.

Taking pity on him and seeing a way to have some fun herself, Bo Katan smirked at Ranma during one of their breaks. "You know, I think I know a way to put most of them off…"

She held up a drink bulb, but Ranma quickly shook his head. "Don't. I really don't want to know what my chest would feel like if I suddenly grew a pair of breasts while wearing this armor."

Bo paused then nodded, understanding his point.

Nearby Tess frowned, not understanding that. Ranma noticed this, and shrugged. "I'll show ya later." Turning back to Bo Ranma let out an evil smirk. "Besides, I think they're going to be a little too busy in a few minutes."

After the first run through of ten katas, Ranma pulled out a few weight devices. This was high tech weight gear which could weigh as much as two hundred pounds depending on the setting, using repulsor technology to push down on the body parts being trained with the equivalent of the weight desired. "Now we kick it up a notch."

The weight, plus the armor the Mandalorians were all wearing, was enough to stop most of the group Ranma was training from flirting with him. A few of them even dropped out, unable to handle moving through his katas with the added twenty pounds plus the armor they already wore. Soon it became almost a separate competition among the Mandalorians, to see which of them could last the longest. Bo won, with one of Pol's sons coming in second. Though the fact that Ranma hadn't seemed to even notice the same amount of weight which had all of the locals gasping and sweating did nothing to combat their interest in him.

Near lunchtime the training ended for the day, and for once Ranma actually was happy to stop practicing his Art.

Coming out of the changing area he found Tess, alone at the moment, shaking her head at him. "Sorry about all that," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "I imagine that Pol told you about what's causing it?"

"Yeah, just a little," Ranma said, keeping his face neutral though he also knew the woman in front of him was interested in him.

"Most of it'll pass, I think," Tess said adroitly, waving one hand in the air. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you a few questions about how your martial arts style works in Zero-G environments, then I think it's time for us to get some food."

She looked down at her stomach which growled at that, and Ranma laughed. "Yeah, that happens when you're first starting out. Frankly, you guys are somewhat better trained already than I expected. I mean, I trained with soldiers from my own planet a time or two when I was younger, and with them by the time I hit twelve or thirteen I was stronger and faster than any of them could deal with. Here you're definitely closer to my level."

My level at that age, anyway. The Mandalorians speed was decent and their instincts made up for a lot, but Ranma's pure strength and endurance was still well beyond what any of the locals could match. His speed was as well, but Ranma was so used to holding back that he could do so without anyone even realizing he was.

"Yes, yes," Tess said, waving one hand airily now. "Keep rubbing your superiority in. I'm sure that will make my fellow Mandos take less of an interest in you."

Ranma groaned, understanding her point, and she patted his shoulder companionably. "Come on, there's a commissary here somewhere. I haven't actually had the time to explore. Bo Katan's spent practically every hour grilling me for information on the other planets in the sector since I arrived here. You'd think she would have at least been on a few of them, but apparently not. The old leader of the Death Watch was very careful about who was assigned what mission, apparently, and they also tended to operate more outside the Mandalore sector than within it."

"I got the impression a time or two that she and a few of the other Death Watch commanders were kept at arm's length by the real blood thirsty bastards of the group," Ranma said, nodding. "Where is she, by the way?"

"Two clan heads arrived about twenty minutes ago. They had hoped to catch you doing another exhibition match but had to deal with some issues closer at home so they couldn't arrive this morning. Bo's is meeting with them at present, but she didn't tell me she wanted you involved just yet. So…"

"Say no more. I might be here to help her, but that doesn't mean I'm going to look for more meetings and such like to get involved with." Ranma laughed. "Let's get out of here and eat some food someplace else."

"Too kriffing right. I've had enough of politics since I arrived to last me a lifetime! As for food, I think there are a few street vendors around," Tess said with a chuckle, leaving him away as she began to ask him specific questions about his aerial style of combat.

OOOOOOO

At the same time that Ranma had run into the womenfolk (and a few men, though they couldn't get close to him) interested in him, Shaak Ti was dealing with the same issue. Wanting to get a feel for the Reborn camp herself, Shaak had set up meetings with various clan chiefs and other important representatives who had joined Bo's faction. Victor and Clento helped her with this, setting up many of the meetings for her and joining the Togrutan Jedi for a few of them.

The first hint that Shaak would have similar issues to Ranma came during one such meeting set up by Clento in the late morning, the last meeting before her break for lunch. Unlike most Jedi, Shaak had become quite conscientious about not missing meals since training with Ranma.

The man she was meeting with was a middle-aged man around fifteen years older than Shaak, a little past middle age, perhaps, with a dignified air to him, wearing decent but battered Mandalorian armor, with severe patrician features. He was a clan leader which had ironically been historically involved in ruling one of the planets that she and Ranma had visited. This was no longer the case, of course, they lacked the ability to project power off Mandalore like that any longer, but he had brought twenty warriors with him, and his reasoning for backing the Reborn faction was understandable enough.

Clento explained that in the past the man, Drack Nal Mora, was noted to skirt the New Mandalorians edicts just enough to not be censored by them, and he was known to look out for his people's best interests first and foremost, irrespective of political positions. This was an excellent start, since Shaak had just finished meeting with two clan heads who Clento had basically told her were scoundrels who cared more about the trappings of their positions rather than the actual people they were supposed to lead.

"Lady Jedi," Drack said, taking her hand in his kissing the back of it gently in an old-fashioned style that Shaak was surprised the Mandalorians actually followed. "I was not, alas, able to get away yesterday morning to watch your exhibition match with this, Ranma, was it? I am told, however, it was most enlightening. And indeed, if it was as amazing as you are beautiful, I can say it would most definitely have been a show to see."

Shaak's lips twitched briefly, trying to form a frown, but she kept the expression off her face easily. This wasn't the first time she'd dealt with such flattery, of course. Even before she started a relationship with Ranma, Shaak Ti had been approached several times during missions by various senators or other local people. She had also been propositioned many times when she'd been in disguise during undercover missions. Most people, after all, didn't know about the Jedi not being allowed relationships, and those that did would often think that trying to wean a Jedi off that might be an interesting idea.

Like her understanding of her own sexuality, Shaak's understanding of flirtation was more acute now, so she understood more about what was going on, and didn't like it. Hopefully he'll get the message if I try to subtly hint at the fact that I am taken.

"Yes, my Ranma and I did perform an exhibition match as well as some training with Bo Katan Kryze and a group she had chosen. Despite that, I was surprised at how much interest we garnered there. I would have assumed that the rumors about his abilities would have spread after the Yavin campaign."

"Secondhand information is never quite as good as recorded fact," Drack said, smiling but not backing off, staying within Shaak's personal space as they moved towards the buffet tables where Clento and Victor were talking with several other people. "If can I ask, what is the Jedi Order's opinion about Ranma?"

"He is an ally of the Order, hence why I was assigned to him in the first place," Shaak said simply, shutting down any further questioning there.

"An assignment, is it," the older man said sighing, even though his eyes were now much sharper, more interested. "Harsh words, that, my lady."

"It only began as such, sir," Shaak said her voice noticeably colder now. "It is not any longer. And it was never a burden on me."

"I see," the older man said thoughtfully, though he still didn't back off. "Still, I will take my people's word for the fact that this Ranma has a lot of abilities and techniques to share. What I am concerned about is the impact he has had on Bo, and the changes she wants to make to the Resol'nare. Could you tell me about those?"

"Certainly," Shaak said with a smile, accepting the change of topic with some hope in her voice. She hoped that it signified that Drack had read her disinterest in him and the fact that she was with someone else as the put down it was meant to be.

He didn't. He kept on flirting with her off and on, but Shaak eventually decided that was simply the way he was. There was a word for men like him, roués or some such, and Shaak decided not to take it personally.

The next person she met during the eat-and-meet part of the function, however, was much more forceful. He was a much younger man, wearing full armor with a helmet connected to his backpack, with what looked like a dueling scar on his chin, wide shoulders, and a handsome face, with a confident, aggressive air. "My lady, my name is Alex Rogers. Clento recommended that I talk to you about my clan's position, and wanting to decide whether or not to join the Reborn at all."

As he was speaking Alex took her hand. But instead of kissing the back of it like Drack had, he turned Shaak's hand around to kiss the palm. This was a much more intimate gesture that had Shaak closing her fingers quickly and trying to regain her hand almost as soon as she discerned what he was trying to do. If she were not a Jedi she might also have tried to smack him, but Shaak's self-control was well up to the task of stopping that instinct.

"If I had known how gorgeous you were I would have agreed with his recommendation far faster than I did. I have not met any of your race before, my lady, but if they all are as gorgeous as you I might be forced to go on a sojourn of my own to Shili, if only to take in the sights."

"I'm afraid I couldn't help you there," Shaak said, her voice even colder than it was before. "I have not been to my people's home planet since I was a padawan, and despite my being in a relationship, I don't actually know much about my species' courtship in general. I was not interested in such before my understanding with Ranma began because I was a Jedi, and since have not met any other Togrutan to ask questions about how such things are supposed to go," Shaak said, emphasizing the word relationship every time she said it in order to get the point across as pointedly as possible.

Alex's mouth twitched almost into a frown, but he controlled himself somewhat, though his eyes flashed in anger at her blatant put down, and he did not back away even after Shaak put more space between them. "Nonetheless, let us talk of more pleasant things. My clan controls a series of farms and a river which feeds into a dam which powers much of one of the lowland cities. We don't habitually put many Mandalorians into the field, and a few of the tenets of the Resol'nare don't really matter much to us any longer, while others do. We have led decent, if not fulfilling lives since the New Mandalorians took power, and we are concerned about the future. I was wondering if you could predict, using your vast knowledge as a Jedi, the social upheaval of what Bo is planning."

"I'm afraid not. I haven't been on Mandalore long enough to get a handle on the economy," Shaak began then realized she had just walked right into Alex's trap and went on hastily. "Nor is it my own area of expertise. I would prefer to leave that kind of discussion to Master Plo Koon and Obi-Wan. I am here as a favor to back Bo Katan on my lover's word after the aid she gave us against the Death Watch and other criminal elements after the bounty on Ranma's head."

"Nonetheless," Alex said, going on doggedly, stepping forward and lowering his voice. "Let me explain a few things about the economy to you and then you will be able to understand my concerns and, if not answer them, at least take them to Bo Katan. I have to admit to some wariness about doing so myself given her Death Watch ties. And the fact that she herself is not, in point of fact, the clan head and is related to 'Duchess' Satine. I am certain someone as intelligent as she is beautiful like you are will understand my concerns."

"Yes, I can understand why those previous connections would bother people," Shaak said, once again taking a step back, but still being as diplomatic as possible.

The man continued to flirt with her forcefully, trying to touch her occasionally, trying to always get inside her personal space. It wasn't pleasant, and more than once Shaak tried to warn him off verbally while at the same time keeping her distance or trying to get other people involved in their discussion. These ploys worked for a time, but it took actually leaving the room with the purpose of meeting up with Ranma and Bo Katan for their own meeting to get the man to actually stop.

Walking down the street Shaak sighed faintly. If she were not a Jedi Shaak would've been pulling at her lekku in irritation at this point. But she was a Jedi, and so she simply centered herself once more in the Force and soldiered on. I hope Ranma is having an easier time of it than I am.

OOOOOOO

While Shaak and Ranma were getting to know the Reborn faction, Plo Koon tried to get a read on the planet's economy and what Bo Katan's planned reforms to the Resol'nare would do to it.

Satine proved to be quite helpful with that, though it would turn out that she was actually more helpful than even she knew. She set up a meeting with the head of Mandalmotors that very morning. But when Plo Koon was ushered into the man's penthouse level meeting room he stopped, sensing not one mind behind the door in front of him, but nine minds. Stretching out his Force senses further he detected a lot of anger, but no indication that violence was on anyone's mind within.

With that assurance he moved forward, and the door recessed to one side automatically. He stood framed in the doorway for a moment, letting his eyes move over the nine people waiting for him around a table set up in the center of the room. "Gentle beings, greetings."

"Master Jedi," said the head of Mandalmotors. "I am Hal Zenlav." His voice was flat, no emotion there, though Master Plo Koon could detect a hint of anger and even a bit of loathing directed towards the Jedi. Of course that was normal on this planet among many portions of the populace, and this man was doing a better job than most of hiding it.

In appearance Plo Koon's host was a short, spare man, shorter even than Ranma's female form, with thin shoulders underneath his Mandalorian style chest plate. He did not wear the rest of the armor suit, and there was no helmet beside him. The chest plate was obviously simply a nod towards the traditional reading of the Resol'nare and the place in it of armor rather than a sign that the man himself was a warrior. Despite that his eyes were cool and calculating, his stance authoritative He exuded the authority of experience and knowing precisely who and what he was. This was not a man to take lightly,

The men around him were of similar nature and age, though many of them wore their full body armor and moved like veterans, their helmets on the table directly in front of them. From two of them Plo Koon felt quite a bit more hate than from the man who he was here to meet. One in particular was glaring at him, his features cold like stone. One eye was marked by something like a ritual scar moving from right above it on his forehead and down around to his cheek.

Plo Koon had seen ritual scarring it in several nihilistic cultures but had not expected to see them here, and the hate pouring off the man into the Force was disturbing. But at least he seemed in control of himself.

The only other person that stood out to Plo was an older woman, possibly as old as Master Jocasta, the Order's librarian. She stood beside the table in the same sort of half armor as the head of Mandalmotors. But she had a helmet on the table in front of her, unlike him, and she had a series of small scars marking half of her face. While her actual combat years might be well behind her, this woman was obviously a veteran, and her eyes were assessing.

But it wasn't just her age which grabbed Plo Koon's attention, it was the lack of condemnation and hate coming from her. Rather, she radiated cool appraisal and perhaps… understanding? Such an odd thing to feel from anyone on this planet.

"I give you all greetings once more, though I had only hoped to meet with our common host today. Plo Koon said calmly. "Might I have your names, gentle beings?"

"You may not have our names, but you may know what we represent," said one of the other men. "We are all clan heads, and we represent, in point of fact, the largest clans on the planet. By hook or by crook we have, if not thrived, at least survived since the Excision and the time of the Clan Wars. Primarily by moving in lockstep, and not allowing our people to fracture into smaller clans."

"That and neutrality in any political upheaval has served us all well," Zenlav said, gesturing Plo Koon into a seat at the far end of the table from his own position at the head.

Plo Koon stood there for a moment, letting the Force fill him. Feeling no danger the Kel Dor nodded his head slightly and took the seat so indicated, with the other clan chiefs arrayed along the table to either side of their positions. He knew that these people represented perhaps not the real political or social power, but certainly the economic and possibly military power of the planet. He wasn't certain about that last point, but what he did know where these were elder statesman whose words carried far more weight than any other group on the planet, most especially if they moved in lockstep, whatever Satine or her sister might think.

"While I asked for this meeting," he said, steepling his hands in his robe's long sleeves for a moment, staring down the table at his host, "and am happy to meet you gentlemen," he said turning his head slightly to the others, "I have to say that while I thought I knew what this meeting was going to be about, I might be in error. Why do you believe we are all meeting like this?"

A few of them smiled grimly at that, and the older woman who had caught Plo Koon's attention earlier smirked, but one or two of them seemed to frown at his soft, passive tones. If they could've taken umbrage at it, Plo Koon felt they would have. I have no friends here. Not a surprise, but certainly not pleasant either.

"Tell us what you think of our present issues first," the man said, trying to redirect the Jedi, or rather to get him to open up before revealing his own position.

For a moment Plo Koon fell silent, feeling out the Force once more, trying to figure out if the Force wanted him to do one thing or the other. But as was becoming the case all too often of late, the Jedi master could not discern any Force assisted path he should follow. So he simply decided to go with what his own instincts as a politician and a Kel Do warrior were telling him: honesty was the best policy here.

"While I have not been on planet for very long, my fellow Jedi Obi-Wan has been" he began slowly. "I have used his notes to try to paint a picture of my own of what is going on here. While on the surface it might seem as if this is a battle between two disparate political movements, it is more of a social movement than anything else, and neither sister's position is as strong as they wish. The factionalism on the Reborn side of things is easy enough to discern even for an outsider like myself. The factionalism on the New Mandalorians side is somewhat less obvious. Regardless, we Jedi are treading as carefully as possible as a unit."

At his words there seemed to be a lightening of the tension in the room, and more than one man actually leaned back into more comfortable positions. All of them were nodding agreement with his words, and his host actually led a small smile flicker across his face. "I am glad that you realize this is not solely a political issue, and that any movement on your part would have repercussions you could not predict. There are people among the New Mandalorians who don't like the Senate, along with other groups who want to have nothing to do with the Jedi despite the fact that they're pacifists."

"And of course on the other side of things," said the scarred man harshly, "there are those who see the New Mandalorians as a puppet government of the Republic who want them gone whatever the means, and there are others who simply hate the Jedi and want to lash out at you."

He looked at the Jedi Master, hate visible in his eyes but still under control. "I hate you Jetii," he said bluntly. "I hate you with every fiber of my being. My clan controlled one of the largest industrial sectors of Mandalore before the Dral'han. It was only my ancestors' forward thinking that allowed a majority of us to remove ourselves into the mountains before your fleet arrived."

"This," he said gesturing at the scar on his face, "is a reminder to all of us to remember that day, to remember that dishonor! I hate you Jetii, and I will always hate you. But making war on our own people is something I will never condone."

Plo Koon nodded his head slowly to the scarred man as he reflected on the nature of the attachment and memory. The Jedi were not allowed to become attached to items, people, places, and above all memories. Tragedy, sorrow, they each could teach you things: odd, hard lessons. But Jedi could not cling to them like this man and his clan did to their hate.

And yet, how often have we Jedi truly been able to act without referencing the past? The Dral'han in its totality was like that, the ease with which the Reformation was used was like that. And in recent years how often have we used precedent and the past to guide our decisions? The thought was a disturbing one, but one Plo Koon forced himself to face. I will need to think on this further in the future.

Hal took up the tale. "We're all worried," he said, just as bluntly as the other man. "We're all worried for different reasons, but in the main they all have a central point. Bo Katan Kryze's push to change the way we view the Resol'nare has opened the doors. There is a lot of hatred towards the New Mandalorians and their pacifistic culture, and now that that door has been opened people are going to take advantage of it. There will be violence during these debates, and we wish you to pass on this word to both Kryze sisters. Satine is not ready for the level of violence, whatever she has said. The New Mandalorians' desire to see our people as pacifists and weak like that has blinded them to the reality."

Plo Koon actually allowed a faint smile to cross his features under his mask, though none of the locals knew enough about his species to realize that was what the faint movements in the mask meant. "Actually, we had pointed that out to Satine last night in no uncertain terms. Her security forces will, at least, be ready. But is passing on that concern and warning me about any unilateral action on our part the only reason you all gathered?" he asked, knowing it was not.

"We haven't decided which faction to back," said the old woman continuing the blunt speaking. "All of us have feet in both parties. We even have our own local hotheads, but we have a handle on those. Even I have a handle on my particular hotheads, and one of them is my great grandson," she said drolly, causing a laugh to go around the room at some in-joke that Plo Koon did not understand. "But we need to know how the Senate, the Republic that is, and the Jedi will react if one faction or the other wins."

"The Order has decided to take a wait-and-see attitude for the moment. We are not enthused by the idea of Mandalorian expansion, but given what I have seen in the rest of this sector we cannot say that the Republic has served its people very well. For now, we will not take part in the conclave's debate on either side. Our mission will be to make certain the conclave is as open and violence-free as possible."

His audience all nodded at that, and Plo went on. "If the Reborn win the Senate's reaction will be negative, I am afraid, but they will not take military action against you without the backing of the Order, which they will not have. If the New Mandalorians win the debate and remain in power, you won't have any problems from an exterior source. But I imagine that the tension that is behind this debate in the first place will not simply go away."

"If the Reborn don't win the debate, the pro-expansion and pro-returned to the old ways factions that birthed that movement will fracture," said another man, an old Duros. "It is almost predestined to do so. We'll be sliding back into a new time of troubles."

"Which would, no doubt, suit the Senate and the Jedi just as well as a victory for the New Mandalorians," said the man who hated the Jedi, his voice still cold. "I don't doubt that you wouldn't want that kind of broad-based conflict on your heads, but neither do I doubt that the Senate would see that as a short term victory, and like politicians everywhere short term victories are all they care about."

"We're economists," the old woman said calmly. "We have to take the long term. If we decide that the Reborn are better able to give that tension an outlet we'll be forced to back them simply because that might equate to stability, regardless of the Senate's opinion."

Plo Koon would've said something along the lines of most economists also going for short term solutions, businesses were normally all about the bottom line today after all. But he understood that the word "economist" in their language meant something different. Perhaps "financiers" would be closer, with a bit more of a social aspect added to the word? Force users could translate other people's thoughts into words, but they sometimes missed small, social nuances like that, things which didn't need to be thought of while using the word since everyone knew of them.

"I understand your concerns, and I will make certain that both the Senate and the Order understand them as well. At the moment, however, I cannot tell you anything more. My and the Order's place in this debate is not to make policy, but as I said, to simply make certain that the debate is handled in as lawful and equitable a manner as possible."

"Stick to that," said the older woman, after exchanging a series of nods with the other people around the table, "and we might get on fine."

OOOOOOO

The Jedi all met aboard the Wild Light later that evening after Obi-Wan had made certain that Satine had guards enough for the night while she was sleeping. "The fact that she was sleeping at all is probably a good thing, considering her exhaustion," he said, sitting down across from Ranma and Shaak Ti, who had taken up the sofa, their shoulders touching, while Plo Koon elected to sit on the floor.

The Wild Light had been guarded by HK throughout the day while Tune spent his time listening in on various TV shows and local news. Knowing that they could not be overheard allowed the Jedi a sense of peace that was hard for them to find at present.

Shaak put their opinions into words, making no mention of her own personal trials of the day. "This planet's problems go far deeper than any mere political difference of opinion, and our presence is further muddying the issue."

"I was able to get out and about the city, and I heard several dozen discussions about you three," Ranma agreed with a shrug. "And mine, in a few. But everyone knows I'm here backing up Bo, whereas 'everyone knows' that the Senate sent you three here to back up the New Mandalorians."

"How did the Senates demands towards us get out so quickly?" Plo Koon asked, leaning back in his arms chair for a moment as he closed his eyes in contemplation.

"Someone in the New Mandalorians apparently let it out. The palace is a sieve for secrets. Almost as bad as the Senate itself," Obi-Wan said dryly.

"Yes, but why would someone in the New Mandalorian party let that get out? Surely whoever did would know it would not help their position," Shaak said, shaking her head.

"I had to deal with an attack on myself this afternoon, as well as various New Mandalorian officials sneering at me as I acted as bodyguard for Satine. It's not pleasant, but I can handle it," Obi-Wan went on.

"I haven't dealt with any outright anger at my being a Jedi, but I have dealt with other sources of irritation," Shaak said slowly, glancing at Ranma, cocking her head to the side. "The locals seem to believe… That is, the locals seem to…"

"Yeah, I've dealt with a few of those too," Ranma said, taking her hand in his and squeezing it. "I didn't enjoy it, but at least a few of the Reborn higher-ups were able to shield me a time or two."

"In my case they didn't realize they had should at first, but they did start at last as the day wore on," Shaak said with a faint smile, relieved that Ranma had understood what she was trying to say without her needing to spell it out.

"Should I be worried about some other guy coming along to sweep you off your feet?" Ranma asked teasingly.

"Not at all, my love. For various reasons you are the only one for me," Shaak replied drolly, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek, enjoying the way Ranma's arms went around her, holding her close as he chuckled in response.

Obi-Wan coughed and looked away, still not quite at home with such displays of affection in a somewhat public setting like this. Or at least directly in front of him, despite his own relationship with Siri. Master Plo Koon, on the other hand. simply watched, not commenting and not reacting.

"I think Ranma and myself will be busy for a few days, at least, until Bo and the others have enough katas to work on their own. But after that I want to get out into the hinterlands, see how much true hate towards the Republic and Jedi is there for myself, as well as how important the Resol'nare is to the people's lives. No offense, Obi-Wan, but your report did not give me enough information, and that will help us understand how the people will react to Bo's changes to the way the Resol'nare is viewed."

Ranma grinned eagerly, and Shaak chuckled, kissing his cheek once more. While having no issue with being the center of attention, Ranma did not like having to meet and greet people as he had been forced to in the afternoons. He had shared aspects of his Code, the code of the samurai, and his thoughts on the Resol'nare with people throughout the afternoon, and Bo had told him to expect more of the same. Needless to say he was not looking forward to it.

"I agree. I concentrated on the cities and the space stations," Obi-Wan replied, smiling slightly as he ignored the interplay. "The hinterlands, as you put it, would have been my next stop, but I did, after all, only have a few days before you all arrived. As for myself, I am still going over the Duchess Satine's security. After that I will start to both vet her palace staff so no further leaks occur and meet with the other New Mandalorian political figures. Master Koon?"

"I will be making a public statement that we Jedi are neutral in this manner regardless of rumors," Plo Koon said calmly. "I realize that stating such will probably simply make people think that we are truly backing the New Mandalorian faction, but if I make it often enough maybe my words will sink in. After that I will meet with city mayors and other officials and start to set up ways to get in touch with them and various neutral clan heads. After that I will be deeply involved in setting up the infrastructure for the voting which will occur when the debates conclude."

True to his word Plo Koon was on the morning news the next day. His words didn't seem to have an immediate impact on the majority of the Mandalorians who bothered to watch, but it was a step in the right direction.

OOOOOOO

Nearly a week later, Shaak and Ranma bowed out of further meetings and training to explore the boonies of Mandalore for a time. After so many days of straight training with Ranma, Bo was too sore to continue, and he had given her and the rest of her training cadres enough katas and practices to keep them busy, anyway. After talking with them, Bo told the two they could probably get away for five days or so without being overly missed by anyone. The clan conclave and building the infrastructure for the vote that would occur there was going much slower than Bo had anticipated, particularly the latter.

That aspect would postpone the clan conclave by at least two months, something Ranma was not happy about when told. While votes like this were normal in Mandalorian history between the clans, there were far, far more unaffiliated citizens, people who didn't belong to a clan for various reasons, than ever before. On top of that there had to be allowances made for off-world votes. The clans, too, needed to set up their own voting structure, all of which needed to be both open and fair. That was the aspect Master Koon was involved in, making certain no one would try to rig the voting, or could without being caught.

Shaak placated Ranma by agreeing to spend the full five days away from politics and cities entirely. Plo Koon agreed that their absence wouldn't matter much in the short term so long as Shaak made nightly reports on her findings.

The two lovers decided to leave behind the Wild Light and the two droids for this trip. Both the ship and HK had already been linked to Ranma in various recordings, and Tune didn't enjoy being that close to nature. Given his lack of legs, this was understandable. Instead, the two of them rented out a local hover truck which had an expanded cabin and a tarpaulin that could be pulled out into a tent for the trip.

For his part Ranma was somewhat disguised, going around in his female form, which surprisingly few people realized the truth of outside the veteran Reborn and those who had seen the change itself. She was also dressed like a Mandalorian. Shaak moved around as the redhead's lover openly. She wore the cloak Ranma had made for her, and kept her lightsaber in her Living Force pocket.

Shaak Ti's exotic looks got a lot of interest from the locals everywhere they went. The children, in particular, were fascinated by her. Many of them had never seen an alien that wasn't a native to their planet. But since the locals were respectful of their relationship, both women were fine with that kind of attention. The first four days were happily uneventful, and both of them had a fine time roughing it. Ranma even brought down one of the local predators, the local mountain cat equivalent, which Shaak had positively devoured.

During their travels they found that the clans' hold on society out here was just as Bo had thought. The clan, the extended family rather, was the main social structure, and the New Mandalorians reforms did not reach out this far at all. The Resol'nare and the training which made a Mandalorian a warrior was paramount for several very good, large, and hungry reasons.

At one point, however, Ranma had to stop and stare at a radio playing from the window of a tiny general store of an equally tiny mountain town they were passing through. "And now for a new song from an unknown artist that is sure to rise to the top of our charts…"

Turning to look at her companion in confusion Shaak also paused, her mouth twitching up into a smile as she recognized Ranma's own voice on the radio. "Someone recorded me!?" Ranma squawked indignantly, listening as the radio played "White Light," the song Ranma had sung to Shaak Ti on Yavin.

"It is a lovely song, my love, and it has a certain martial air to it," Shaak said, careful not to call Ranma by her name in public. She could have used her Force powers to turn people's attention away from them, but that seemed rather wasteful to her. "You should be proud of it, though I did not know someone had recorded it."

"Feh, I should look into getting royalties for it," Ranma groused, turning away. Shaak Ti smiled after her before striding quickly to catch up with the shorter redhead, happy they had been able to get away for a time.

Elsewhere, however, plans were being put into motion.

OOOOOOO

"The Jedi's public announcement of their neutrality was an astute move and seems to have calmed some of the anger towards the Jedi's actual presence over the past few days. His emphasis on it being their duty to be here struck a chord with the locals who are most likely to see it their duty to strike at the Jedi. None of the historic antipathy has gone away, however. There is still a lot of hate, but no one is willing to act out directly against the Jedi just yet. Not without a bit more impetus to get them moving," said a woman's voice, her features carefully hidden in the darkness of the room as she stared into the hologram device between her and several other people.

"Will you be able to step up the violence between these two factions?" asked the one on the other end of the communication. Like always Darth Sidious's voice was cold with command and power, though only one of the people talking to him on Mandalore knew who and what he was. The others simply knew enough about him to be very afraid of him, beyond that what they thought was immaterial.

"Easily, sir," said one of the men, nodding his head subserviently. "We have a few specialists coming in from off-planet which will be arriving later today to help. We'll be putting some of them to work right away while we hold a few in reserve for a larger assault."

"Good. The Mandalorians must be shown in as negative a light as possible, not just this Reborn faction but the New Mandalorians as well, if more softly in their case. What is your opinion on the Jedi themselves?" Sidious asked.

"Dangerous in various ways, master, but easily dealt with if taken on their own. Together would be a chancier prospect, and Jedi Knight Shaak Ti, in particular, is far better than our records would suggest," the same woman who had spoken up first said. "The other two would be far easier to deal with physically if taken one at a time."

"Do not make the mistake of underestimating the Kel Dor Jedi," Sidious warned. "Plo Koon is one of the Order's better combatants in many ways, and a powerful foe. What of your campaign to try to split up Jedi Ti and this… Ranma? Splitting them up is a logical step in weakening the Jedi's position on Mandalore after all," Sidious asked.

"It's not working," the woman said bluntly, shaking her head. "Their relationship is quite a bit further along and far more stable than we had anticipated. I just don't think getting between them is going to happen, despite the strange amount of enthusiasm the locals have for the idea. Certainly not within the time frame we're working with."

"I don't know about that. I think the Jedi woman isn't quite as at home with her own sexuality as she tries to appear. That should be assumed given she is a Jedi, but there are aspects of her race's courtship that she obviously doesn't know which gives me some openings to work with. I think I could get between them if I could assume the guise of a male of her species, but out here it would set me apart too much," said another man. His voice sounded almost oily, his features shifting into that of a Togrutan man's from that of a youngish human male as his fellows watched on.

Sidious stared at him, then around at the others. "Very well. Step up the violence as you can without implicating yourselves. Use whatever resources you may on hand that cannot be traced back to your alter egos on Mandalore, those might come in handy in the future. For now, leave us."

The men all filed out of the room quickly leaving the woman alone with their employer, or rather, her master. As soon as they were gone, much of his guise of seeming normality left him, the hologram changing from looking like a decent business suit, something a politician or business man would wear, to show what Sidious was actually wearing. "Your opinion on the Chaotic Locus now that you have met him in person?" Sidious asked, his voice intent, the Force of him reaching out through the intervening lightyears to touch his apprentice's mind.

In this manner Sidious could almost read Komari Vosa's mind, the apprentice/master bond between them helping to both reach her and hide their use of the Force even over this vast a distance, thanks to the Veil. In this manner he could see more than her words could tell him, even if their bond was not deep enough yet for a full conversation. Indeed, he could see many things in Vosa's mind, not just whether or not her words were truthful.

"Ranma is not a Jedi Master," The woman said, bowing her head in supplication. "He has different morals and a vastly different outlook in life than the Jedi. He is friendly with the Order and has many friends within it; he discussed them openly. But he would not be so close with them, certainly would not be involved in their missions at all unless he stumbled upon one while going on his own journey, without the Togrutan female. Their personal connection is such that regardless of what my compatriot thinks I do not think it will be broken."

"If she was removed from the equation entirely, what would the effect be?" Sidious asked, musing on both the truth he felt in her words and the underlying reasons behind them. Still, those reasons don't invalidate her observations, particularly since they dovetail with my own thoughts on this matter.

"I cannot say how he would react to such an event in the short term. If it cannot be just traced back to us however, that probably would not matter," the woman replied after a moment's contemplation. "He certainly would be more malleable afterwards. Much more likely to go his own way, at the very least, and possibly approachable in the future."

Nodding, Sidious thought about the implications of that and what Vosa would attempt should she get the chance. Truly predictable, my dear apprentice. Still, for now you are still useful. "But probably not by your current guise?"

"No, Master. I have worked hard to approach him slowly, but even so it is obvious that he understands there is a distinct line between friend and lover. It is one I do not think I will be able to cross under my assumed identity."

"Very well. Your local identity was only intended to be a short term one in any event. Make certain, however, that our clawdite and Shi'ido pawns survive the coming violence. While Corshall may be incorrect in his assumption that he could wean the Togrutan female away from the Chaotic Locus if he was a male of her species, such a thing, or at least the attempt, could muddy the waters between them if she survives the coming days.

"Which I do not expect her to do," Sidious said sternly, his power pressing down upon his apprentice even harder. "I will be sending in a few bounty hunters. The Hutts will soon discover that they have raised the bounty on the Togrutan Jedi by a factor of two. Of course the bounty hunters have no idea who they will really serve, but I have arranged matters so that the Crimson Nova chapter of the guild is led by an individual who has reason to hate the Jedi. She will authorize the bounty, and they will attack the Togrutan, serving to muddy the waters there further and get rid of her. How you do away with your current guise I leave to you."

Sidious's decision to have the Togrutan Jedi killed was at least partly based on how much it would hurt the Chaotic Locus whose actions had so changed matters the universe over. He knew that, and that he had given in to his anger in a way he felt was beneath a true Sith Lord, but could not bring himself to care overmuch.

Sidious paused, obviously thinking, before changing the subject. He, of course, didn't really care about the outcome of the debates, the Mandalorians didn't have enough numbers or industry to be a threat to the Grand Plan, but he wanted to be able to use the outcome to further his control of the Senate. The Senate itself was facing many issues closer to home in the form of the hate groups Sidious had largely lost control of and other crises both of his making and not. This one however could be used to regain lost influence among the Senators, while many others could not be.

But even that was secondary to his real reason for sending his half-trained apprentice out so quickly. "For now what can you tell me about the abilities this Chaotic Locus has?"

"Much, Master," said Vosa, her eyes flickering yellow as she nearly purred the words despite her master's presence in her mind pressing her down, the avarice in her easy for Sidious to read. "Very much, indeed."

From there the woman went on, describing the feeling she felt whenever she was near Ranma when he was training or using his special techniques. "Durability, speed, endurance, strength… He uses the Force to bolster all these to a level unheard of, but we can hopefully replicate them. It will take many months, possibly years, however, to match his speed and strength as it is at present," she finished cautiously. "His durability will be slightly easier to match given how much technology can help us there."

"And his distant attack will possibly be the easiest to replicate, and the most worthless," Sidious mused, nodding. "The Force shield could be out of our reach, but I will meditate on that. Very well. I will see you back here when this is all done, by which time I will have the training center ready for you." With that he cut the connection, the hologram flickering out, leaving the room in utter darkness.

The woman leaned back, thinking, her fingers tapping on the side of her seat for a moment. You might be the master now, but if I can somehow get to Ranma after Shaak Ti is dealt with, use my body to enslave him into helping me… Then we will see who the true master of the Dark Side is, Sidious!

With that thought Komari Vosa stood up moving toward the doorway quickly. Out in the regular lighting of the house she and her 'clan' had taken over, Tess blinked in the overhead lights for a moment before moving on resolutely. She had plans to put in place, both personal and those that would serve the Sith's long term goals.

OOOOOOO

On their last day out in the mountains Shaak Ti and Ranma had made their way high up into the mountains, so far off the beaten trail they'd had to leave the truck behind. They surveyed a few more hard-scrabble farms and hunting lodges before heading back down as night descended.

Halfway back to the truck Ranma paused, dropping down to her knees. A moment later the redhead stood up, holding a nail or claw of an animal that was about as long as her own hand which had been lodged in a tiny crack in the rock he was standing on. "I can see why this planet is the home of a warrior people if there are predators around with claws like these."

Shaak nodded, crouching down herself to examine signs of the animal's passing on a nearby patch of softer ground. It was large, as large as a human perhaps or larger, with wide, shaggy paws and long claws. The claws dug into the ground slightly, whereas the rest of the pad was slightly raised, an odd configuration, but one that would most definitely be that of a predator.

Ranma, on the other hand, had turned to stare up at the sky which had darkened noticeably in the past few moments. "Crap, it looks like it's going to rain. You know any Force tricks to keep us from getting drenched?"

"I could possibly redirect the water once it hits me, but that would be an extremely energy consuming task. Best not to chance it and just get back to the truck as fast as possible," Shaak replied, before racing off, the cloak Ranma had made for her whisking around her legs audibly with the speed of her passage.

Ranma raced after her, but even so they were still caught in the storm which flared up so fast it was astonishing, and with enough power to nearly force them both to search for shelter then and there.

"What is it with you and rain!?" Shaak said with a laugh as they finally reached the protection of the truck. Luckily they had already set up the tarp for the night over the bed of it. The tarp stretched out from the back of the operator's cabin and was latched down on the raised sides of the truck's bed, giving the occupants enough headroom to sit but not enough to stand. There was a small heater connected to the back of the cabin which could be turned on and have the tent warmed within minutes. Two raised side areas held simple beds, but that was all.

Ranma pulled open the flap, and they both dove in, grateful to be out of the pouring rain even if the bed of the truck lacked much in the way of creature comforts. Unable to stand up, they both sat there for a few moments as Ranma activated the heater.

"Come, let us get out of these clothes," Shaak said, pulling off the drenched cloak, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor of the truck. When Ranma did the same, showing her normal lack of modesty when in female form, Shaak paused, taking in the view for a moment.

Ranma was, of course, shorter in this form, something Shaak was finally getting used to and indeed had begun to enjoy. She also had somewhat wide hips and a pert rear, the tightness of which would have been the envy of many a human woman, and soft yet very toned curves everywhere, while her breasts were full, slightly larger than Shaak's own. Those and her hips gave the girl a somewhat softer appearance than anyone who knew how much she exercised would expect. This was particularly emphasized now given how wet and bedraggled Ranma looked.

{Warning Lemon incoming}

Not for the first time Ranma's cherry red nipples, crinkled slightly in the cold at the moment, attracted Shaak's attention. Swallowing once she reached out, gently rubbing one finger around the redhead's nipple, then slowly hefting Ranma's breast in her hand as Ranma squeaked in surprise at her touch. Shaak chuckled at that, then leaned over, kissing the redhead deeply. As a woman, Shaak realized, Ranma's mouth was slightly smaller, her lips fuller and softer.

The rest of the kiss was mostly the same, however, as to Shaak's surprise Ranma immediately returned the kiss, her hands moving to rest on Shaak's hips before gently pushing her away. "Shaak?"

"Mmmm," Shaak hummed, leaning back and breathing deeply before smiling at Ranma. "Well it just occurred to me that we haven't, ahem, done much more than kissing while you were in your female form." She leaned her forehead against Ranma's staring into her deep blue eyes earnestly. "I know you still have some problems with your female form, Ranma, but I would like to show you that I do not. Would you let me please?"

"Shaak, er, I… I don't, that is…" Ranma blushed under Shaak's gaze, "his" resistance to the idea crumpling under the understanding and love in Shaak's gaze.

"Please, Ranma?" Shaak didn't really understand why this desire to play with Ranma's female form had grown this quickly all of a sudden, but she wanted to act on it and knew that in the main it would help Ranma. The ongoing issue with his female form was one of the two large psychological problems which she knew Ranma had, and was possibly the easier of the two to deal with. "I promise I will stop if anything I do makes you feel uncomfortable."

After a few moments, Ranma nodded, her own, now smaller hands traveling up from Shaak's waist. One of them found one of her lekkus, while the other pushed up her undershirt and bra. It was one of those she had bought on Coronet, a lacey black one the sight of which made Ranma's breath catch in her throat before she could speak again. "A, alright. So long as I can do the same things to you."

"I fail to see how I, mmm… lose in this exchange," Shaak said, breaking off first when Ranma's hand stroked her lekku just the right way, then becoming a louder moan as Ranma's other hand began to fondle her breasts. "AHhhh…."

Shaak leaned over to kiss Ranma again, not just Ranma's mouth, but her cheeks and neck as they both moved closer to one another. Ranma continued to undress Shaak slowly, while Shaak's hands were busy pulling off Ranma's own drenched clothing, the thump of the various bits of armor from her limbs audible over the rain beating down outside and their moans.

Soon enough Shaak's C-cup breasts were pressed into the top of Ranma's own. Then it was Shaak's turn to emit a small squeak as Ranma's hand fell to Shaak's bare rear, lifting the taller woman into the air easily.

Shaak wrapped her legs around Ranma's waist, and the short redhead moved over slightly to place Shaak onto one of the two beds. When Ranma moved to join her, however, they found out that the bed wasn't large enough. They both giggled, staring at one another as they exchanged light kisses for several minutes before moving back. They removed the soft cushions from the beds and pushed them together on the floor of the tent cum truck-bed, putting their clothing up onto the bedrests.

Watching as Ranma set up her armor Shaak leaned over the shorter redhead, nibbling at Ranma's neck and collarbone as she rubbed her breasts into the shorter girls back, feeling Ranma's rear press up and back against her hips. She was amazed at how much softer Ranma's skin was in this form under her lips and teeth. It was as if the years Ranma had spent on the road had not carried over from his original body. She also smelled slightly different, too, to Shaak's senses. Ranma as a male smelled of wood, sweat, and a spice called aldriga, which humans the universe over called "the love child of a cinnamon stick and a hot pepper." As a woman Ranma still smelled of sweat, but it was sweeter, and there was no wood smell. The smell of aldriga was less pronounced too, mixed with the smell of some kind of flower.

As Shaak slowly ran her teeth down Ranma's collarbone, Ranma murmured throatily, "Damn, what sharp teeth you have, Shaak."

"Heheh, I thought you liked my sharp, little teeth, Ranma…" Shaak replied, before trying to bite down on the redhead. Realizing what she wanted to do Ranma consciously weakened her skin in that area, letting Shaak create a small hickey there.

When Shaak pulled back, Ranma took the opportunity to turn around, pulling Shaak down with her onto the cushions. Over the next several moments the two women gently explored one another. There was no urgency here, indeed, both of them had decided to take their time here.

For "her" part Ranma was having fun simply dragging her fingers up and down Shaak's body. The contrast between Ranma's own skin color and Shaak's deep red color always fascinated him, and now Shaak was completely naked, her entire body open for Ranma's exploration. Though at first she wasn't very adventuresome in that exploration, simply having fun touching, squeezing, or licking at Shaak's breasts, nipples, or lekku, while squeezing her rear or lekku occasionally. Ranma spent some time licking at Shaak's nipples, which made her gasp and moan, but not very long, returning to gently running her fingers up and around Shaak's stomach and chest.

At the same time Shaak had one hand playing with Ranma's slowly drying hair, enjoying the feel of it through the fingers of one hand. Her other hand traveled around Ranma's body, taking time to squeeze Ranma's breasts eagerly, or tweak one of Ranma's cherry-red nipples, their color somewhat lighter than the red of Shaak's skin. By this point the hardness of those nipples, like Shaak's own chalk-colored nipples, had nothing to do with the cold or the rain but with what they were doing. Shaak occasionally leaned down to taste them, playing with the nipple in her mouth with her tongue.

She decided they tasted slightly different in some indefinable way from the rest of Ranma's skin to her tongue. It was still a nice taste, just a different one.

Eventually Shaak's exploring hand made its way down to the redhead's privates, stopping when it reached the tuft of hair there. Pulling away from a kiss she looked between them, uttering a low, "Ohhh…"

At Ranma's inquisitive, "hmm?" she went on. "It's, it's fuzzy, not silky or long or anything like I thought it would be… It's pleasant to the touch. How strange, very different from your male body."

"Yeah, I know. I don't know why the hair down there changes so much from one forMMMM!" Ranma's voice broke off into a startled moan as one of Shaak's fingers moved to Ranma's cleft, trailing down it for a moment. "Oh, oh that, that feels weirdddd!"

Shaak's finger stopped, retreating slightly as Shaak turned her gaze up to meet Ranma's. "Weird? Do you mean uncomfortable? We can.. MMM…."

Now it was Shaak's turn to break off into a moan. Ranma's hand on her breast had moved down to Shaak's privates. While Ranma had a small budding slit, Shaak had small, engorged pussy lips. They were wet and inviting, standing out starkly white against the backdrop of Shaak's red skin, pulsing almost to the touch. And, as Ranma had known, Shaak had no hair, which only seemed to emphasize her flower further. "H, how do you like it huh?"

"I, mmm, I like it very much!" Shaak said, then dove forward, kissing Ranma hard. While their tongues began to twine around one another Shaak's one hand gripped Ranma's red hair hard, while the other moved back to what it was doing, a single finger lightly moving up and down Ranma's slit. Ranma jumped and bucked as Shaak turned so that she was now lying over Ranma's smaller frame, pressing her down onto the cushions.

Ranma, however, wasn't idle. Her own fingers went back to Shaak's privates tweaking and playing, finding a tiny little bud right above her pussy which seemed to send Shaak into paroxysms. At that point they both slowed down slightly in unspoken agreement, the feelings threatening to overwhelm them, which neither wanted. They wanted their lovemaking to last for a while and had learned that Shaak became too sensitive after she reached her crescendo to continue to play.

After a while Ranma rolled them both to the side, then covered Shaak's taller body with her own, gently rubbing their chests together, their nipples rubbing into one another sending electric tingles down both their spines. They kissed slowly, languidly, their tongues dancing before they nuzzled into one another's shoulders and necks, biting and nipping. Shaak's natural advantage in that area would have been countered by Ranma's durability, but the redhead consciously allowed her body to weaken slightly letting Shaak mark her again and again. For her part Ranma went to work on Shaak's nipples with both hands, avoiding her lekku or flower for a time.

How long their gentle lovemaking continued neither knew, but their tempo began to pick up once again when Shaak flipped them once more. Licking one of her fingers she trailed it down Ranma's body, then, when it reached Ranma's slit, gently let it press in.

"AHHH, that, that feels soOOooo weird!" Ranma said suddenly, pushing her hand away. "I, I'm not ready for that, not yet." The idea of 'his' ever being ready for that kind of thing was rather astonishing if Ranma thought about it, but at the moment Ranma simply knew that right now it was a step too far.

Nodding Shaak let her finger retreat then began to lick and nibble her way down Ranma's body, stopping at her nipples. Ranma tried to bring Shaak back up to kiss to take a more aggressive role, but Shaak shook her head, smacking the shorter woman's hands away as she continued her way down, licking at the redhead's belly button before moving on. But instead of stopping as Ranma had feared Shaak kept going, licking down Ranma's legs.

Lifting up one leg Shaak sat up, putting her own legs to either side of Ranma's body as she did. This allowed Ranma to take one of Shaak's own feet and begin to kiss and lick her toes and arch. It turned out that Shaak's foot wasn't nearly as sensitive as Ranma's, and it was Ranma who moaned aloud at this new sensation. After only a few moments she leaned away from Shaak's foot before reaching up, pulling Shaak into a deep, powerful kiss.

Both women jolted then, their clefts having rubbing against one another in this new position, something neither had realized would occur until just then. Shaak pulled back slightly staring at Ranma, who hesitantly nodded, realizing what the other woman was asking. Then they were kissing once more, their lower halves scissoring against one another as moans erupted into the tent despite their mouths being so tightly joined.

Their clefts, so wet they were literally dripping down onto the mattress below them, mashed against one another, the sensation well beyond anything Shaak had experienced before. Her movements became frantic, and she slowly lost control for the first time in this encounter.

For her part Ranma was having a slightly easier time of it. The feeling was incredible but not as powerful, or perhaps frantic, as what he had felt when Shaak had gone down on him in his male body. The redhead thrust her hips up harder and harder, trying to evoke more of the incredible feeling, working to a massive crescendo that swallowed both women.

Shaak threw her head back crying out in ecstasy, and Ranma shouted, "SHAAAAK!" aloud as she too went over the edge.

The feeling was utterly unlike the feeling she had as a man. She was somewhat less tired, Ranma could tell that she could keep going and it wasn't as debilitating, but it was somehow just as powerful.

Shaak, however, had exhausted herself and fell to the side, barely conscious at the moment. She wearily pushed herself up slightly to kiss Ranma on the lips and smiled as the human's arms went around her, holding her tight. "I love you, Shaak," Ranma murmured against Shaak's lips, causing a smile to appear on the Jedi's weary lips, as she returned those three all-important words.

{End Lemon}

As Shaak began to fall asleep, the truck rocked for a moment as something hit it from outside followed by a low ululation. With a snarl on her face Ranma crawled towards the tent flap while behind her Shaak's eye's tracked her, though the Jedi made no attempt to move. She merely watched with interest, both because of Ranma's pert rear sticking out back towards her and because she wondered what animal had just announced it's desire for an early death.

Sticking her head out of the tent flap Ranma came face to face with a creature that could be best described as a rhino with a predator's jaw and teeth. The thing looked at the edible human opening it's mouth to reveal fangs as large as Ranma's fingers.

The redhead however reached out with both hand's grabbing it's jaw and pushing it closed pulling the best down slightly so they were eye to eye, her fingers digging like claws into the beast's armored hide. "Leave, or die!" she snarled her own teeth bared and her eyes flashing with Living Force.

The beast stared at her for a moment, almost petrified. Ranma let it go, and the predator backed away, before turning quickly racing off with its long, simian-looking tail between it's legs. It even was making little whimpering noises as it went.

"Hmmpf, well at least this interruption came after we, finished," Ranma groused to herself, turning back into the tent as Shaak nearly fell off the slim bed she was laughing so hard.

The next day the two lovers began their trek back to civilization.

Having changed into his male form now that they were heading back to the city where they'd left the Wild Light, Ranma had trouble looking at Shaak, who had an equal amount of trouble looking at him. They would occasionally catch one another's eyes, blush, and rapidly turn back to watching the road. It was as if they had taken a step forward in their relationship that their earlier encounters had not marked somehow, and each time they looked at one another now the memory of last night would come back to them.

"This is silly," Shaak said at last shaking her head. "It wasn't the first time you've seen me, I mean, it wasn't the first time we've…"

"I know, but it's just, I can't control my face! I want to laugh, grin, and blush all at the same time," Ranma groaned before leaning over to put an arm around her shoulders, kissing one of her montrals lightly.

"I feel the same way," Shaak said nodding. "I think it was because both of use were completely naked, and there was, I think, a sense of intimacy in that which went slightly beyond our former activities. That, and the fact you were in your female form."

"I suppose we'll need more practice to get over the reaction then," Ranma said, smirking as he kissed down Shaak's montrals to her lekku.

Shaak shuddered, the hover truck slithering to the side slightly as she almost lost control of it. "None of that please, unless you want me to cause a crash?"

"Yeah, that would be kind of hard to explain, wouldn't it?" Ranma said with a laugh, leaning away.

"I didn't say you had to stop entirely," Shaak said archly, reaching with one hand to pat Ranma's thigh.

Ranma laughed and leaned in again, leaning his head against her neck, reveling in the touch of her skin, the smell that was singularly hers.

But then Shaak stiffened, frowning as her Force senses tingled for a moment. Someone nearby was feeling anticipation now, and hate…hate directed towards her. "We might be about to be attacked," she said calmly.

Ranma leaned away, looking around. They were just passing over a deep gully, the bridge a small ungainly thing, but more than up to the scattered amount of traffic this area of Mandalore saw. "I don't see any…wait, there. Two blobs below us in the gully, and a few people trying to hide in the rocks over there," he said, pointing first down then forward to one side of the road.

The area they were travelling in was rocky in the extreme, with scrub brush scattered everywhere and only a few extremely hardy and gnarled trees. Cover was available for their ambushers, but not enough to cover any movement on their part or to really hide them entirely from sight.

Stretching out with the Force to the blobs below them in the gully Shaak found something out of place which screamed danger to her senses. "They might have rigged the bridge to blow." Her voice was calm even as she gunned the engine, the hover truck shooting forward faster than before. This was partly her Jedi training and her being centered in the Force, the rest was simple experience. Travelling with Ranma had taught her to be prepared for unexpected assaults.

Ranma in turn was already unlocking his door, leaning out over the window to stare at the two hover cars below them. "They aren't military, but they have some guns," he reported. "Best not to get caught between them."

The explosion they both expected now occurred a mere second later destroying some the bridge's foundations and slowly dumping the rest of it back into the gorge back behind the hover truck. It took Ranma a bare instant to analyze the rate the bridge was falling and their own speed. They were not going to make it, and given how asthmatic the hover truck's repulsors were over even the normal height above the ground, there was no way in hell that the hover truck could see them safely over the gully.

He exchanged a glance with Shaak, and they both nodded. Pushing open their doors the two of them leaped up out onto the top of the car. From there Shaak Force Jumped forward and was easily able to get across the intervening distance, while Ranma merely leaped across, no Force aid needed. As they landed Ranma rolled, pulling out his light-pike and activating the blade, while Shaak simply landed on her feet turning quickly, her own lightsaber coming up and out from her still-limited ki space.

A second later the two hover cars Ranma had spotted flew up out of the gulley taking them under fire even as their repulsors whined at the abuse of being so far above the ground. From the side of the road came other Mandalorians dressed in green and brown camouflage, something like the Reborn would wear, but if this lot were Reborn they would have been much less likely to attack Ranma like this. "A frame job, you think?"

"Perhaps," Shaak mused idly, her lightsaber deflecting blaster bolts even as she spoke. "Still, a rather hasty assault attempt by anyone who had any idea of our abilities. I think this is merely an attack of opportunity rather than prior planning, and those colors are rather a last minute addition."

The two of them quickly stood back to back, their lightsabers flashing this way and that as they moved, leaping around and dodging as much fire as they could while also returning any fire they could not. Ranma couldn't quite redirect the shots of his attackers as well as the Jedi could, but he was decent enough to make a few of them duck their heads. Shaak, on the other hand, while not a practitioner of Shien or Soresu, was able to sing the tune, as it were. Three of her attackers went down from redirected blaster bolts, while a few of Ranma's stumbled back into cover.

That stumbling cost them, as Ranma hurled his light-pike forward at the one of the skimmers, leaping forward himself. The plasma blade slammed into the engine coupling at the front of the Hummer car. It tilted immediately, all power extinguished, and slammed into the side of the gorge before falling back down into it, taking its occupants with it.

"Ranma you really need to get better at holding onto your weapon!" Shaak shouted reaching out with the Force and grabbing at his light-pike. An instant later her Force Grab pulled it away from the tumbling hover car before spinning through the air towards him.

"Why would I do that when I have you, Shaak?" Ranma asked with a laugh as he leapt into the air dodging other blaster bolts even as Shaak turned, twirling around momentarily in place defending herself from every angle with her lightsaber. Facing so many opponents from multiple angles would have exhausted most Jedi's ability to predict their opponents' moves, or simply their bodies, but not Shaak Ti. After her training with Ranma her body was more than up to the task, and that made it far easier on her Force Precognition.

Ranma grabbed his light-pike out of the air, then somehow, even Shaak still wasn't clear on how Ranma was so mobile in the air, he redirected his jump in midair to dodge further attacks, landing nearby and launching himself forward again into the attackers on that side. The light-pike deactivated, and its end slammed out with bone crushing force. A minute later he had dealt with all of the attackers on that side of the road. None of these Mandalorians were actually any good, even in comparison to the Death Watch he'd fought.

While Shaak charged the attackers on her side of the road in turn, Ranma pulled out his heavy blaster rifle. It's more powerful bolts banged out at the remaining hover car, clipping it and sending it crashing onto its side.

A moment later the battle was over, and the two of them walked towards one another while Shaak looked past Ranma at the groaning bodies of his victims. "You left them all alive?"

"So did you," Ranma replied, gesturing back over Shaak's shoulder. While many of the attackers were dead, most of them had fallen from their own redirected fire or from the two hover cars crashing. When Shaak had closed with her portion of the ambushers she had used her hands and feet rather than her lightsaber.

"I felt no need to kill such…enthusiastic amateurs in the art of real combat," Shaak replied loftily. "Besides, I detected drink on at least one of their breaths. This was not a planned assault, so survivors to spread the word that doing so again would not be a good idea is the way to go."

"Wow, you can really pull off that whole Jedi-level of moralization can't ya?" Chuckling, Ranma looped one arm with Shaak's. "So, should we wait here and call in the Wild Light for pickup, call the local police to pick up that lot, or leave them to their miseries and just walk the rest of the way?"

"You just don't want to get back and deal with more politics," Shaak said with a laugh, leaning in to kiss him, lingering on the lips for a moment. "I can't say that the idea appeals much to me either but duty calls, alas. So we will run back instead of walk."

OOOOOOO

The attack on Ranma and Shaak Ti was but the start of the violence. Over the next few weeks violence began to surge across all of Mandalore. Demonstration marches for and against the New Mandalorians was the cause in some cities. These routinely ran into counter marches usually composed of miners, farmers, or other groups of rural workers who were in town for one reason or another. The fact that the rallies for the New Mandalorians' pacifistic nonaggression policies also denounced the clan system seemed to be the reason behind most of those clashes.

Violence, of course, also took the form of theft, destruction of property, and outright assault. Most of those occurred against New Mandalorian owned businesses, city municipal buildings, and at two points New Mandalorian-affiliated city mayors. The last two were actual assassination attempts, not crimes of opportunity.

One of the mayors was saved by his security team, who saw the ambush before it was able to close and got him safely away, though two security men and four ambushers lost their lives. The second assault succeeded, killing the mayor and his team with the loss of only one attacker. Several other would be-criminals were later arrested in a firefight that had the New Mandalorian police force losing several more men, since their gear followed the pacifistic line of their government, and was therefore made to subdue rather than to kill.

At the same time the Reborn had their own issues. Clento had to deal with an assassination attempt while back home on his own space station. He was, needless to say, rather incensed about that, and spaced the three people involved. Bo dealt with one more assassination attempt on her, and Victor, the Mandalmotors rep, and his security team had to deal with an attack while heading to a meeting with his brother. Reborn shops and farms were assaulted, and outright firefights broke out with increasing regularity between different clans backing Bo's movement and those who wanted to turn to the old ways of conquest and expansion.

The only places that seemed to be inviolate were the ducal palace and the training hall that Ranma and Shaak were still using to help teach Bo and a rotating group of newcomers some of Ranma's skills and abilities. This might be because that city had both a New Mandalorian and Reborn presence and the two were working together well; this was the same city Obi-Wan had been in when he saw Reborn come to the aid of the security forces back before Shaak and Ranma had arrived.

Other than that there didn't seem to be any kind of pattern that the locals or even the Jedi could discern when going over the information or meditating on it through the Force. There was no one group behind it as had been the case during the Clan Wars. Then it had been the Death Watch behind far too many of the atrocities which occurred in that period. This time it was all simply random acts of violence from people angry at the status quo or at the idea the status quo might change on a planet where lots and lots of people still espoused carrying arms.

The three Jedi talked about it with the various concerned entities and decided that any real organized attempt by the Jedi to quell the violence would have a negative response. So instead of doing that Shaak, Obi-Wan, and Plo Koon took turns using the Force to try to discern when the next large outbreak of violence would occur. Shaak and Plo Koon both arrived in time to subtly influence a few minds away from creating ambushes over the next few days.

Ranma and HK were called on occasionally when there was a need for a bigger hammer, but that was seldom. Indeed, Ranma found his weeks rather boring at this point, not getting much out of training with the locals and becoming frustrated at how often he had to repeat himself when talking about the ancient samurai or his own Code, and what he had called the honor of the defender.

Of the three Jedi, Obi-Wan had somewhat more luck than his fellows, actually capturing a few rabble-rousers who wanted to use the violence as a cover to their own activities, which was mainly theft. He also stomped on a budding protection racket, capturing their leaders.

Returning to the palace after that mission, Obi-Wan sat down with a faint sigh, rubbing at his leg. He knew it was purely psychosomatic, with nothing physical or Force-related to back it up, but Obi-Wan always felt that the area where his leg had been reattached via bacta immersion always pained him if he was on his feet for too long.

"Would you like some food, Master Jedi?" asked the servant nearby.

"Some tea or coffee would be nice, and perhaps some fruit if you have any?" Obi-Wan replied politely.

A moment later Satine joined him, carrying her own tray and placing it down between them. She smiled at him, a rather wan expression on her face. Besides all of the meetings and political maneuverings she was doing to try to figure out how much support she would have in the clan conclave, Satine had been dealing with internal pressures from her own party. A lot of the New Mandalorians didn't actually approve of the clan concept any longer and wanted it entirely done away with as a social crutch which was no longer viable.

There had even been attacks on clan leaders organized within her faction. The people involved seemed to think that violence could be allowed for in this instance, so long as they kept control of the planet. They were shocked to discover that Satine and many of their fellows did not share that view.

So it was no wonder that Satine was looking tired. But she still smiled at Obi-Wan, sharing the same pot of tea with him and a small plate of chopped fruit. It was a local variety, a kind of plum that tasted more like a peach but looked sort of more like what Ranma thought of as a pickle. "How goes it?"

"I do not know," Obi-Wan said honestly. "The Force has helped my colleagues and me to offset some of the violence, but we can't do much more without stirring up anti-Jedi prejudices. Admittedly, that would concentrate the violence on us, possibly making it more controllable. Ranma suggested that, but then again, Ranma would cheerfully take on entire mob with his bare hands and leave them all groaning and moaning, but, generally speaking, in one piece. I'm afraid I cannot do the same, though Shaak Ti might be able to, and Master Koon would possibly enjoy the challenge," Obi-Wan replied, his tone becoming drier as he went on with a hint of actual humor in his voice at the end.

"I see," Satine said sighing faintly. "And you and your fellows still believe that backing my own position entirely would not help matters?"

"Satine," Obi-Wan said making her name into a sigh, "You know that wouldn't work in the long run. Yes, we might be able to quell the violence occurring right now. The real division between the New Mandalorians and the rest of the population would remain. Regardless of anything else after this referendum, I'm afraid unless the general vote goes entirely in your favor you'll be forced to, at the very least, relax your grip on some of your policies."

He held up a hand as Satine made to speak. "I do not mean that you will have to take portions of the Reborn's platform, but your people will need some kind of outlet. Perhaps enlarging your space security forces? Send a few of them out after the pirates that are seemingly acting with impunity throughout the sector?"

"And after which I would have created not an outlet but an excuse for people who wanted to go back to their warlike ways! Instead of dealing with pirate attacks I would be pressured to launch my own raids against pirate bases. And from then it would be a small step to installing 'protection forces' over the planets that had been raided recently, slowly taking control of the territories that our peoples held when we were still warlike barbarians. Just like the Reborn wish to!" Satine replied sharply.

"There can be no give here. The way of peace and of nonaggression is the only way forward. Yes," she said with manifest reluctance, "that does mean we will occasionally have issues at home. But they will be small and hopefully easily dealt with once the New Mandalorians and my own policies are shown to be the way forward after this conclave."

Obi-Wan winced a little. He seriously was not certain which of the two sisters was more set in their ways, but neither liked the idea that they were wrong at all. The New Mandalorians had been in power for hundreds of years now, and the clan wars had not been the first time they had faced opposition. Yes, it had indeed been the New Mandalorians which had rebuilt the planet's economy, and they had made a lot of headway in that.

But socially? The Mandalorian way was at base simple, but like many simple things it was also pervasive, hence why there were Mandalorians of several dozen races. Belief in the Resol'nare, the way of combat, armor, and the other tenets, still had a hold on the majority of the Mandalorians, but Satine and those like her did not seem capable of seeing it.

"Let's not talk about that for now," he said instead. "Other than politics and ruling, what have you been up to? Since I arrived we haven't actually had a chance to make much small talk, after all."

"I have taken up gardening. There is an art form called Air-bending developed on Thustra. You cultivate a flower-bearing plant and through the use of small air nozzles and a type of chemical try to make it grow into certain shapes. I have to admit that I am an amateur at it, but it is a soothing pass time. I thought of getting a pet, but even a small pet would take so much time, and frankly I was sort of afraid that it would become more the servants' pet rather than my own. This whole ruling thing is a sort of 24/7 job, you know," Satine said dryly, a wan smile on her face.

"It is much the same with Jedi. When we are not on missions, we are meditating on the ways of the Force. When we are not meditating, we are training. Despite that, there is happiness to be had within it, reflection and the tranquility of being one with the Force, of being a small cog in the great scheme of life. And of course," he said with a chuckle, "we can follow sports teams and other things of that nature so long as we do not do so too openly or become attached to the actual players. I personally like to follow a few grifball teams."

"That's never actually caught on out here in the Outer Rim," Satine laughed, shaking her head. Then she became somewhat more serious, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes as she took a bite from one of the fruit slices. Setting it down, she spoke rather hesitantly. "I have to question about Knight Ti and her special status. I, I got the impression that allowing her attachment to Ranma was almost a way to control him, but I would not have thought the Jedi order would have used such a method."

"It is not, and whatever impression you got on that is false," Obi-Wan replied quickly. "Shaak Ti was assigned to follow Ranma around and to learn from him. That agreement gave Ranma access to the Order's aid in his endeavors, to whit that ship of his, though apparently he paid for it himself. His association with the Order opened doors, and it also gave him access to our information network, which he surely would not have had elsewhere, as well as some of our own training.

"In return, Shaak has received his training. Strength, endurance, speed, even her lightsaber dueling style has changed since the two of them met. She was known as one of the better lightsaber duelists among the Jedi Knights, but she was not the equal of most of the Masters. Now, however, she is one of the most dangerous combatants in the Order.

"Their relationship was a surprise to me when I first heard it…" he went on much more slowly. "I do not know how she was able to convince the council to allow it, but I believe she was able to carry the day through logic rather than appealing to their desire to control Ranma."

He chuckled suddenly, shaking his head. "Any attempt to do that would probably backfire horribly in any event. Ranma does not like people trying to control him, and in so saying," he said, still laughing, "I should probably be given an award for understatement of the year."

Satine laughed too, shaking her head. "Like in those, what are they called, those movie awards some of the core worlds have? Best actor, best picture, and then best understatement of the century!" She laughed again. "Even after so few meetings with him I can tell Ranma would not react well to that at all. He's quite rude at times, but honest, and I think a good man, if incredibly focused on the martial arts."

Obi-Wan nodded, understanding that given both Ranma's own personality and Satine's that the two would never be more than passing acquaintances. Added to that is the fact that Ranma is backing Bo and her attempt to overthrow the New Mandalorians, if in a peaceful manner. It's a wonder Satine didn't have Ranma tossed out of the palace after he bluntly called her a horrible leader to her face. Mind you, that would be more "attempt" to toss him out, since if he didn't want to go I doubt anyone but Shaak Ti would be able to get him to leave.

"But my question, then, is, if Shaak Ti used simple persuasion and reasoning, did that open the door for…" Satine paused trying to come up with a way to ask her next question without seeming to come off as a love-struck girl. "That is, will other Jedi be allowed to what did she did? Retake your Oaths in the old format and form relationships? What is the difference between the two Oaths anyway?"

"The Oath used in this day and age reads as: `There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.' That is the Oath that has been followed by the Order since the Ruusan Reformation.

"The Old Oath reads like this: `Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force,'" Obi-Wan intoned, shaking his head. "As you can see, there is a distinct difference between the two.

"I am not certain I would have the intestinal fortitude to try to take the Old Oath, nor am I certain that it would be allowed. There is some belief that it is actually a more psychologically sound set of mandates to follow, but that idea is only slowly gaining ground within the Order, and there has been no talk about universally changing back to the Old Oath. I know that some are acting as if they have retaken the Old Oath, but to actually do it, to open yourself to the amount of scrutiny that would bring is not something I would welcome. No, I'm not certain I would be comfortable with that."

Obi-Wan was telling the truth, but not the whole truth. Meeting Satine had been interesting, but to his relief it had not reignited the old feelings that he had had for the girl he had known. Too much time had passed since they last met one another, and they were two different people now. So putting aside his relationship, whatever you labeled it, with Siri, Obi-Wan would be unwilling to take up a relationship with Satine once again.

Moreover, when he thought of the two women he found he was more at home with the relationship he had with Siri. There was commitment there certainly, but there was also no pressure to conform, to stay together or even to be open about their relationship. There couldn't be with their duties taking them away from one another at the Order's will, and for some reason Obi-Wan felt no sense of jealousy when he thought of Siri being away from him for so long. Moreover she understood the desire to keep their relationship hidden. Satine, on the other hand, would want commitment, and would probably pressure him to remain with her here on Mandalore, something Obi-Wan was unwilling to contemplate.

"I see," Satine said, somewhat sadly, and Obi-Wan hid a carefully concealed wince realizing that she too had been thinking about the way they had been around one another when they were younger. But you can never go back, you can only go forward, just like Master Koon said the other day. Regrets and missed opportunities can teach you lessons, but you cannot dwell on them and remained centered in the Force.

So Obi-Wan stayed silent for a moment before changing the subject. "I understand that Shaak Ti's and Ranma's ongoing training with the Reborn have evoked quite a lot of public interest. Have there been any public discussions of late about the changes to the Resol'nare that Bo wants to make?"

He watched as Satine's nose wrinkled at the mention of the Resol'nare, but she answered gamely, and the dangerous moment passed, letting Obi-Wan breathe a sigh of relief.

OOOOOOO

Bo Katan Kryze got off of her hover bike, cracking her back explosively in her armor for a moment. Ugh, my back. Damn, Ranma really nailed me a good one yesterday. I'd never say it aloud, but a full day off of training is just what I need at this point. Two weeks of half-days with that Chakaar (bastard or bitch) is as tiring as months of commando training!

Standing beside her bike Bo double-checked that her weapons were charged and ready. Yes, this was a meeting with a few clan leaders who were possibly willing to join the Reborn, but it never hurt to be prepared given that she'd had to deal with an assassination attempt recently. Besides, wearing armor and knowing the weapons of war were parts of the Resol'nare, and showing so would impress these people even if they were meeting peaceably.

The small town meeting hall where they were meeting her was situated on the outskirts of the town it served, between the actual town and several large farms which were being worked as Bo passed through them. Out here on the Outer Rim manpower was cheaper than droid power, so Bo wasn't surprised that there were dozens of people working the fields. All of them were wearing at least some form of body armor, and they were also armed, mainly with slug throwers, if she was any judge, with only two having real blasters. Out here that was probably both due to it being one of the mandates in the Resol'nare, and because there were a lot of animals on this planet that thought humans were just delicious.

Bo remembered that fact well. She had learned how to shoot and had gotten her first kill against just such animals which had threatened her clan's home. They had been pack animals which looked like small, slightly more mammalian Akk dogs, and both hunting them down and killing them had been a test of her skills.

Putting aside her memories of happier, or at least simpler times, Bo strode into the meeting hall. Inside she found it set up like a lot of these smaller meeting halls were: with a few bits of furniture moved here and there it could serve as meeting hall, auditorium or courtroom. At the moment it was set up as a courtroom, with the men she was here to meet at the far end where the judges would reside.

Two of the four men were holding their helmets at their sides. One of them had no helmet all, and the third was wearing his, which was unusual, but not all that unusual between Mandalorians meeting one another for the first time like this. And she understood that at least one of these people had problems with her former Death Watch ties, so assumed that the man in the helmet was that one.

Even so she loosened her blaster in its holster at her side for a moment as she entered, the move covered by the rest of her body from those waiting for her. With that done she strode forward, clipping her own helmet to the top of her jet pack which she was wearing, something none of the fellows waiting for her were.

Two of the men, the one holding his helmet and one of the men who didn't have a helmet, both raised their hands in greeting, gesturing her towards them. None of them made a move to walk towards her, which Bo didn't particularly like: it made her feel more of a supplicant then an equal having to walk to them like that. Still, she did so, becoming less tense as she watched the men talking, even smiling to one another.

When the attack came, it started with the pulse of stun light from an extremely well hidden alcove to one side. A small aperture there had opened without Bo noticing, and the blue of stun light splashed out from it towards her. However, not all of those gathered were in on it, as one of the men Bo was here to meet shouted, "Watch out!" an instant before the stun bolt was fired.

As Bo leaped backwards she heard a blast of real blaster fire, and the sound of a body dropping to the ground. By the time she looked up from where she had rolled between a few of the rows of chairs one of the men who had not been wearing a helmet was down, the back of his head missing from close range blaster fire.

The other three had moved now, the one with a helmet slapping it over his head as they quickly spread out, firing at her with their own blasters. "So much for taking her hostage! Shoot to kill!" said one of them in Mandalorian.

From the same aperture as before more blaster bolts rained out. At the same time a hidden doorway on that side of the meeting hall opened, revealing ten more Mandalorians.

They all began to fire at her with handheld blasters, but Bo launched herself up into the air using her rocket pack to get out of the line of fire as her helmet unclipped from its position on the her pack's top. She grabbed it, flipping herself in midair slightly to dodge incoming blaster bolts, returning fire with her pistol in one hand as she pulled her helmet on with her other.

Clipping it up to her suit's power system would've taken too long, but the helmet was still a decent bit of armor. This was proven a second later as a blaster bolt clipped the side of her helmet, causing her to wince and destroying her long range radar where an instant before it would have seared off half her head.

In reply, however, her return shots took out two of the newcomers. They didn't all have armor, or at least full Mandalorian armor, on them, and far too few of them had helmets. This was proven when one of her target's head exploded by like an overripe melon under Bo's fire.

Cutting out her rocket pack BO dropped like a stone a second before most of her attackers gained the range on her, dropping underneath their fire. From her wrist two rockets flared out. They were not as powerful as they should've been, but they still smashed into the ground right in front of the larger group before they could spread out, hurling them backwards.

Those who had full armor were barely injured, rolling with the explosions and coming up still firing, showing decent fire support tactics and control, though their unarmored fellows were down now, screaming in pain. At the same time the three conspirators began to fire more rapidly to cover their fellows.

Blaster bolts spangled off Bo's armor, hissing and burning it away in places, but despite not being true Beskar grade armor Bo Katan's burnished blue and silver armor was still the best quality that she could make. It absorbed a few bolts on the arm and thigh guards, heating up noticeably and making her wince inside it, but still protected her.

Then a bolt took her in the ankle, sending her crashing to the floor. The bolt had expended most of its energy on her armor's mono-weave, thankfully, but her ankle was still badly burned. Despite the pain of that wound Bo used her rocket pack to literally bounce her way over the floor crashing into and through some of the chairs using them as cover as she returned fire.

Without her helmet's targeting software Bo was forced to rely on her own eyes and hand coordination, but she had rated an expert long before being allowed her own helmet. One more of her attacker went down, sustained fire having blown through his chest armor sending him crashing to the ground.

Grabbing at her belt Bo hurled a small thermal detonator forward, even as she used her rocket pack once more to disengage herself from the pile of broken and shattered chairs. The explosion ripped up one of the walls to pieces, and Bo launched herself through, and out into the sky.

Two of her remaining attackers were stupid enough to try to follow her through and paid for their stupidity with their lives, both of them going down as Bo took the time to connect her helmet to its power coupling. The hum of the helmet's targeting and other software bits coming online was a relief, and a third attacker went down as he rounded the walls while trying to bring up a heavy blaster rifle.

Six more attackers, however, joined in from nearby with sniper rifles. They announced their presence by one of them firing a more powerful blaster bolt that caught Bo in her rocket pack. Luckily it missed the battery, but the bolt still had enough impetus to knock Bo out of the sky for a moment.

Another sniper bolt slammed into her shoulder, but that sniper made the mistake of not moving to a new position and Bo returned fire. Using her helmet's targeting software she found the man hiding in the wheat field and shot at him from the hip, a sight that took him apparently enough by surprise to cost him his life.

The remaining attackers from inside the building made use of the snipers fire to escape from the wreckage of the town hall, and started to spread out, one of them even taking to the air having donned a rocket pack of his own. In response Bo retreated back the way she had come towards her hover bike, hoping to at least escape at this point. She bounced around, dodged and rolled while on the ground, wrecking several yards worth of wheat each time but keeping herself in one piece, but every time she made progress a wall of sniper fire went up blocking her way forward and she would be forced to retreat back to town into the range of her other attackers.

Bo idly noticed that a lot of the workers in the fields had taken cover, but were not shooting at either her or her attackers, simply watching events. Either they didn't know what was going on, or didn't understand who had started this. Either way they weren't going to get involved even if they recognized a few other locals among her attackers. That was good enough for Bo at the moment.

It was the snipers that were giving her conniptions. Every time she tried to break for cover, either her bike or the line of scrub and rocks marking the end of the farms her armor would ring from blaster bolts. Her thigh was now seared slightly, the armor covering it seared through, though having drained enough of the bolt to keep her from losing her leg. Her ankle was throbbing, and on top of her shoulder her forearm and elbow had both taken blows. Combined they were enough to make her off-arm useless.

I wonder if I'm going to get out of this. The thought didn't have any fear in it, just consternation. Bo thought she was prepared, but the size of this ambush had taken her by surprise, and now she was castigating herself for leaving behind her Night Owls, or even Tess, Clento, and the others of her command staff.

Help came from an unexpected and unlooked for source. One of the snipers to Bo's right suddenly fell silent, and the others seemed to hesitate. Then Master Plo Koon came out of the sparse, rocky scrub beyond the farms, his lightsaber humming in one hand. "Surrender please. No one else has to die today," the Kel Dor called, his odd voice ringing out loud and clear despite his mask.

At the sight of the Jedi one of the attackers, the one with the rocket pack, immediately retreated entirely, bouncing away from the continuing battle. Two of the snipers turned their fire on him, as unfortunately did several people in the fields nearby. They might not have been willing to attack a fellow Mandalorian like Bo, especially one that they must've recognized from various news stories. But they were perfectly willing to attack a Jedi.

Plo Koon slid into a stance from Shien calmly redirecting the blaster bolts coming towards him back to Bo's attackers, including the fire coming from those who had not previously been involved. Five of those attackers, including the snipers who had targeted the Jedi Master, died swiftly. At the same time Bo dealt with a four more in quick succession, slaying the last of her original attackers and the ones from outside save the one who had already escaped and one sniper who had fallen silent.

"Cease-fire!" she shouted, her voice amplified by her armor's exterior speakers. "Cease-fire! The Jedi means no harm!" Bo had no desire to see a massacre here, and she knew enough about the Kel Dor Jedi to know he was dangerous.

"The Jetii is harm!" said a voice from the fields. "You side with the Jetii? You areDar'manda (no longer a Mandalorian)!"

"I am not here to fight, nor am I here to back the New Mandalorian position!" Plo Koon said, before he was drowned out by incoming blaster fire. Even over the fire, however, he was able to turn and look at Bo. His voice was oddly calm as he spoke, projecting his voice via the Force more than his own vocal cords for a moment. "Do not attack. Let me handle this."

Bo scowled, but the locals apparently still didn't want to fire on her even after that one hothead called her Dar'manda. She, however, marched straight up to said hothead, clipping her blaster onto her wounded thigh, pulling out a vibro-knife. "You want to back up that statement you littleVod'osik (little shit)?!"

He turned, but those who were willing to take on a Jedi still weren't willing to fight Bo Katan Kryze of the Reborn. And he had, after all, challenged her in such a way that he had to back it up. Hefting his blaster rifle in one hand and pulling out a vibro-knife with the other he charged her. He tried to overpower her, only to find Bo up to matching him even with one arm, and she was also faster by far.

The two exchanged a few blows before Bo kicked out, catching him right in the solar plexus. His breath woofed out of him, and Bo slammed her fist down onto the top of his head bringing it down to meet the rising knee of her unwounded leg. That blow sent him into unconsciousness even as she stumbled to one side, nearly falling when her wounded thigh and ankle refused to support her weight.

Bo recovered her stance quickly and was out to shout again at the other locals to cease their fire, only to notice they already had. Staring at what was going on Bo could only shake her helmeted head in shock. Plo Koon had not just redirected their fire back at them, he had redirected their fire into their own blasters. "I didn't know Jedi could be that precise," she muttered, shaking her head.

"Many cannot," Plo Koon said calmly. "But I am a student of Shien, and at the higher levels of learning that form allows you to accomplish such feats."

A few of the locals, however, charged the Jedi with handheld weapons now, and Bo was about to shout at them again, but Plo Koon held up a hand. "Do not become involved. Let me handle this."

Backing away on her wounded leg Bo watched, concerned. If the Jedi Master just cut them down then that would show…her thoughts stumbled to a halt as the locals closed with him and Plo Koon actually turned off his lightsaber!

He hurled it into the air, where it suddenly changed direction towards her, and she caught it automatically, continuing to stare in shock. The locals had halted, astonished, and he shrugged. "None of you have weapons that could match a Jedi's lightsaber, and therefore it would not have been a fair fight. Rather, I propose to see if you are able to take me on in hand-to-hand. Unless, of course" he said, his gas mask moving slightly in a way that would have told most who knew his race he was smiling, "you are still scared."

"Kriff you, Jetii, we're not scared of you!" said one of them, and charging with his farm implement, which Bo didn't recognize offhand, she wasn't a damn farmer after all, over his head.

A second later that man was hurled sideways, his weapon ripped from his hand by one of the Kel Dor's hands as the other impacted the side of another attacker's temple, sending him to the ground unconscious. Moments later the fight became more general, but still the Jedi Master dealt with them all in hand-to-hand, not even looking to Bo for aid. Bo knew that his race was somewhat stronger than the human norm, but she hadn't realized that Plo Koon was a Master of hand-to-hand combat like this.

As the last local went down cradling a bruised rib, she'd let out chuckle, moving through them to stand beside him. "You have to join our training sessions. I think it would be interesting to face another Jedi who's good with their hands, not just with his fancy sword."

"I have heard that you wield the Darksaber? It would be interesting to cross blades with you, true. Though I'm afraid my personal style would probably not teach you anything in particular. As I said, I am a student of form five Shien. You do not seem to have the right mindset to acquire such a defensive form."

"True that." With that she watched as Plo Koon bent down over the locals, easing injured ribs or other injuries as he could, or simply pulling them to their feet, helping them towards the town where other locals had come out to watch events.

That moment of rough justice Plo Koon distributed actually did a lot of good. Not only did it show that the Jedi were tough even when they weren't using their Force techniques, but it was the kind of equivalent response that the Mandalorians could really understand. The local townsfolk were willing to leave him alone after that, and word spread that the neutral Jedi Master was willing to take on all comers with his hands, something that, given Ranma and Shaak's example, many took him up on in the following days.

That he also didn't stop Bo Katan from going after the two attackers who got away spoke well of Plo Koon's sense of justice to the locals. That, too, spread slowly out from this town as rumor did its insidious work. They didn't know he had even pointed her in the right direction, making her personal hunt much easier, but that might well have added more to their approval anyway.

OOOOOOO

Master Plo Koon again won points later with the locals several days after that battle He was returning to his current domicile for the evening, a hotel room that he had bought through the Order's money for his time on Mandalore. He had not wanted to stay in the palace like Obi-Wan or on the Wild Light with Shaak Ti and Ranma. The first would have made it seem as if the Jedi were siding with the New Mandalorians' position. The second would've shown the same thing about the Reborn. On top of which, Plo had no desire to be a third wheel.

Still, I suppose it was rather nice of them to offer. But while Shaak Ti's self-control is quite good, that really doesn't matter much when Ranma is standing right next to her, his face like an open dataslate.

That thought made Plo chuckle behind his mask, and he entered hotel lobby with a light heart, only to find himself ambushed once more. Feeling a sudden wave of avarice and intense interest through the Force, Plo Koon turned in time to watch several newscasters approaching. I thought we had another week before they arrived. Either someone deceived us, or is far too eager. I wonder which it is, but either would spell problems for us.

"Master Jedi, INN news, Thomas Riviera. We've only been on planet for a few hours now, but we've already gotten reports about violence against the New Mandalorian government, and that much of it is from this new faction called the Reborn. What are your thoughts on this, and what is the Jedi Order doing about it?"

The man who spoke after thrusting a microphone into Plo Koon's face was a middle-aged man with handsome features coupled with broad shoulders designed to look rugged and appeal to women. Personally Plo thought that his mustache looked like a separate entity had taken up residence on his face, and felt rather hollow, as if there was no real substance to him.

"The Jedi order is not here in its entirety, so the Order as a whole cannot be doing something," Master Plo Koon replied sardonically, causing a few chuckles, if rather forced from his interlocutor. "If by that you meant, 'what am I as the Order's representative doing?' I can only be in one place at a time. Indeed, that is one thing all Jedi have in common: we can only be in one place at a time. Despite our Force given abilities, we are only mortal after all."

"Yet you're not striking out against the Reborn. The reports we've seen seem to indicate the Reborn seem to be behind all of these attacks," Thomas returned. "Surely defending the planetary government from a band that seems set on destabilizing the societal extant is well within your abilities."

"Where is your evidence for that statement?" Master Plo Koon asked calmly, wondering if the man knew or cared that he had misused the term 'extant.' "If you had been on planet for longer than a few hours, you would have realized that the Reborn faction are not involved in any of this violence. Indeed, they have sometimes been targeted by the violence. Their leader, Bo Katan Kryze, has spoken out against violence being the means to win her argument against the New Mandalorian government. Just yesterday she was the target of a kidnapping attempt."

Plo took a brief second to glance to the side, noting that they were being recorded, and the Kel Dor hoped that this was going out live rather than recorded for later editing. As a young, naïve padawan he had learned the difference between canned news and live news. Yet that was too subtle a thing to pick up through the Force unless he probed one of their minds, which he did not yet have a reason for.

"Yet the Reborn's platform calls for a return to violence and expansion!" Thomas said triumphantly, so quickly it seems to Plo Koon as if he hadn't paused to hear his own words. "The Mandalorians are naturally feared throughout the Republic for their warlike ways. If the Mandalorians begin to expand once more, what will the Jedi do? Historically speaking you should be heading this off, should you not? And if you are not, what kind of deal have you made with the Reborn? Does it have anything to do with the Order attempting to distance itself from the Senate, the elected head of the Republic? Master Jedi, the Republic demands answers!"

At this verbal attack on the Order Master Plo Koon felt that he had enough evidence to allow him to probe the man's mind. A second later he kept his mask from showing he was smiling with ease. Evidently this was not going out canned, the man's video and audio equipment were linked directly to the planet's Hypercom array which was sending it out further. Of course it could still be cut off at the next relay and rewritten, but the Hypercom array here would still have a copy of it for a minimum of two years. That was a Republic law, and one of the reasons why Hypercom arrays were so well-defended, large, and expensive. Of course even Jedi needed Senate approval to access those records, and the relay stations' records were notoriously unorganized and rife with minutiae, but it had still helped occasionally to clear up "misplaced facts," as Master Yoda had once called them.

Thomas was apparently arrogant enough to believe he could catch a Jedi flat-footed like this. And live news, in particular interviews like this, always seemed more "real" to the audience, meaning better ratings. And Thomas also personally disliked the Jedi, afraid of their powers and how one of them had been involved in the removal for corruption of his patron a few years ago. All of that was actually sparkling along on the top of his mind like bubbles in a soda, and Plo found it all. Perhaps I can turn this around.

"The Republic is, indeed, an elected, democratic body. While many of its constituent planets are not, the Republic itself is built upon democratic ideals is it not?"

This calm response took Thomas aback, and he had no recourse but to nod and wait for the Jedi to make his actual point. After all not only did he come from a planet that was democratic, but the Republic did espouse democratic views in the Senate. "Not everyone was represented, but enough" was the phrase most often used to back up the Senate's position.

"However, here on this planet, while the New Mandalorians have acted as a government, and indeed a very benign and well-organized one, they have not always represented the totality of the people. The New Mandalorians are a societal movement rather than a simple governmental party. The governmental aspect has served the entire planet well, you can see the evidence everywhere. This bio-cube ,like the others around the planet, were made under their auspices, designed, operated, and built through their work, their money, and time. They represent a large portion of the industry of the planet, which they have rebuilt after the Excision."

Plo Koon had almost used to the local word, the Dral'han or Annihilation for that, but decided that would be a little too inflammatory. Further, it would show he was becoming partisan to the locals to those watching this at home, wherever that was.

"The New Mandalorians' pacifism and nonaggression is all well and good, and I applaud their position. I could wish more people the Republic over felt that same way. However, it might not be the majority position here on this planet. We will learn if it is or not during the referendum that starts in the next few days. The Jedi are here to make certain that the debates are open, honest, and fair, and that the word of the people is heard."

"And if the New Mandalorians do not win? What then? The Mandalorians in the past made wars against the Republic. Billions died, including Jedi! Why are you not more worried about this? What secret deal have the Jedi brokered?" Thomas said, his self-control slipping. News reporters were used to rattling their opponents, but very few of them could handle a Jedi's self-control without losing their own. On top of that, Thomas was unused to dealing with aliens, and he was finding the non-human's eyes were adding their own disconcerting element.

Plo Koon replied with his own question. "Have you been given access to the report my fellow Jedi and myself sent to the Senate?"

At Thomas's suddenly wary look, Plo quickly went on. "We have investigated the rest of the Mandalore sector and found that the Excision left a power vacuum. None of the planets in this sector have been able to return to the level of technology and life that they had prior to that action. Instead pirates, slavers, and criminal gangs have moved in, taking them over lock, stock, and barrel, while preying on what little commerce there is between the planets here. I, myself, was attacked on my way to this planet."

Obi-Wan's report on Gargon had been added to Plo and Shaak's reports of the rest of the sector under a tighter security seal. Given that investigating it and the corruption there might implicate a serving Senator, the Order had decided to keep that to themselves for now, while opening up clandestine discussions with the Senate's anti-corruption committee, led, ironically enough, by Senator Antilles, the same man who had been involved in trying to force Plo and Obi-Wan into backing the New Mandalorians.

"There is therefore a need for a local, strong hand to help this sector truly become civilized. That is the purpose of the Reborn. They are not, in point of fact, returning to the Mandalorian way of conquest and expansion. They have discovered the honor of the shield rather than the conquering blade. Yes, their influence would grow throughout the sector, but it would take centuries before they are established here enough to become a threat, if they ever do."

Plo Koon let his mask move to indicate a smile for the first time in this impromptu interview. "And before you ask about the means with which that expansion would occur, Bo Katan Kryze, the woman who leads the Reborn faction, has already agreed that a Senate led oversight committee will be allowed to look at their actions, so long as it is led by a Jedi whose honor she can trust to become the sector's first Sector Jedi. The agreement to house a Sector Jedi here is one the New Mandalorians have also agreed to should they win the coming debates."

That person would not be Plo Koon, thankfully. He liked much of the Mandalorian people, but that role would be far too hands-off and organizational for his tastes. It would probably be either Master Dooku or another Guardian trained Jedi whose best years in the field in actual combat were behind him.

Plo Koon had initially thought to have Obi-Wan assigned to this sector as its new Sector Jedi, the first Sector Jedi this area had ever had. But even if the New Mandalorians won the conclave he did not think that would be the case any longer. Obi-Wan's connection to Satine was useful, but there seemed to be some kind of tension there too, and Obi-Wan did not have the organizational or leadership experience a Sector Jedi needed.

"Are you saying the New Mandalorians will simply be replaced? That the Reborn will take their place as a Republic backed government?" Thomas asked, backing off from his confrontational attitude, somewhat inundated by facts for now.

"In time, perhaps," Plo Koon said with a shrug. "There is still a lot of hate and loathing for the Republic for the Excision here, after all. You cannot ask people to forget such history. Just as the Republic cannot forget the ways that Mandalorians acted in the past, they cannot forget the way the Republic acted. You cannot have one without the other, after all."

Again Plo Koon reflected on how the Jedi method of dealing with memory was the better way forward. If only all sentients could move past their emotions as we are trained to. Though even the Order has fallen short of that ideal too often for me to like.

"Are you saying you are not in fact here to back the New Mandalorian government?"

"I am here to see that democracy and equality and justice have their day. If the New Mandalorians are truly backed by a majority of this planet's population, their position will be strengthened immeasurably. If not, then the Jedi will still have to work with whatever government takes its place. We are here to make certain that these debates are fair unequivocal and as disrupted by violence as little as it is possible to make them."

"Of course," Plo said with a Gallic shrug, "just like your own presence, the Jedi presence will attract quite a lot of violence from the locals. You represent the Republic, after all, and the Republic is still hated here. Still, that will take said target away from the clan conclave. Now, do you have any questions for me?"

At Thomas's somewhat shaky negative, Plo Koon turned and walked away leaving behind a few suddenly very worried people.

Despite Plo Koon's concerns the New Mandalorians and the Reborn both assigned security teams to the news agencies as they arrived. That first group had arrived clandestinely, not even checking in with the port authority until they suddenly ambushed Plo Koon. But they didn't run into any complications before they were given a security team.

And several months later they would come away with possibly one of the greatest stories of the last few years. Even with the threat of violence on their person, and they were attacked several times during their stay, the newspaper reporters would probably look back on it and say it was worth it. Reporters were weird like that.

OOOOOOO

After the assassination attempt on her, Bo and the Reborn began to crack down on the violence in the outer territories. They brought any violent outbreak there between factions or against the New Mandalorians and their own backers to a quick halt with their greater firepower, skill, and organization. Most of the time this meant simply numbers and stunners, since Bo had made a stern injunction to her people that piling up the corpses was not the way to win the argument here unless it was necessary. People still died, of course, but there was no general bloodbath over the next few weeks.

During that time as well Satine's security forces began to get a handle on the violence in the cities. Backed by Obi-Wan, Shaak Ti, and occasionally Plo Koon, they were better able to find and bring to justice the local criminal element who was involved with much of that. After a few weeks not only were there far fewer instances of violence, even random violence, but crime across the planet was also down.

This swift response to the random outbreaks of violence was seen as a positive by almost everyone, and indeed it seemed as if Plo Koon's statements and his actions had taken a lot of the wind out of people's sails when it came to hating the Jedi. There was still a lot of simmering resentment towards them, and Plo Koon knew he would have to make a public statement to begin the actual clan led debates, but he was prepared for that.

And even with that resentment still hovering in the air, violence slowly died down across Mandalore. There were occasional flare-ups, but nothing that could slow the start of the clan conclave or the vote which would be part of it. Indeed, violence died down so far that Ranma and HK were no longer needed to respond to any of the sudden flare-ups, something HK loathed, and Ranma was conflicted about.

This was offset, in Ranma's case, by the joy that the newsies didn't seem to understand the importance of the training he was giving the Reborn training cadre. They saw him as either a Jedi padawan, and therefore unimportant, disbelieving any rumors to the contrary since they were having absolutely no luck gaining any local informants, and none of them were interested in military training anyway. They were too busy trying to cover any actual violence that did occur, and had trouble even with that since they slowly lost the ability to paint either the Reborn or the New Mandalorians in a negative light, which is what they were supposed to be doing.

It was further offset by the amount of time Ranma was able to spend with Shaak during the evenings and at night. Every other evening the two of them made a point to eat dinner together whatever their other obligations.

The two of them slowly got used to sleeping in the same bed, and even followed up on Shaak's idea of reorganizing their rooms to take advantage of their new living conditions. Shaak's old room became a changing area with half of it devoted to a tiny repulsor field training area. Ranma's room was then taken up by a bed spreading nearly from bulkhead to bulkhead with a small open area along the edge to let them get in and out.

During this time much of the initial push from the locals to try and get between the two of them faded out. A few women kept after Ranma, but that was more to watch him blush or otherwise squirm rather than any real hope to wean him away from his jetii lover. Tess and one or two other women continued to act friendly towards him, but they all seemed to have decided that being friends was what they were after all along.

Shaak Ti however had a somewhat harder time of it. Men continued to approach her occasionally, but most were dealt with easily enough through ignoring their advances or dropping her relationship with Ranma in their faces. However Alex continued to pursue her subtly, always around at times, just on the right side of rude about his interest in her. She had gotten so fed up she used her Force powers to read his outer thoughts and found he was avaricious at the best, and anti-Jedi at worst.

Alex believed that breaking down Shaak Ti's resistance would be his greatest accomplishment and enjoyed the idea of dominating her. This feeling was so prevalent and strong in his mind she couldn't see anything beyond it, except that he had no particular interest in the debate, and was from off-world initially. Beyond that, a sense of duplicitousness was the only feeling she could get from the man, though that was enough to make her happy he began to keep his distance after Ranma showed up to escort her out to dinner one night.

The fragile peace continued in place for the rest of the time it took the New Mandalorians to implement the impartial voting system. In comparison to those first three hectic weeks, the next five went by swiftly, with only a few moments sticking out to Ranma and those around him:

OOOOOOO

Bo Katan swung the Darksaber, grinning viciously as she knew that she had turned and accurately guessed where Shaak would come to earth after bouncing off the ceiling of the training area. Keep her off balance, keep her falling back, and keep the damned momentum!

Her thoughts juddered to a halt as instead of bouncing off the ceiling Shaak had stuck to it! She then slashed down at Bo, and it was all the ginger-haired woman could do to overcome her surprise in time to block the blow. But Shaak used the impetus of her defense to whirl around, still on the ceiling, and leap over and attack one of the other four Mandalorians currently fighting her. "How, what! Jedi can't just ignore gravity like that, can they?"

"It's one of Ranma's techniques, one which I have just started working with. He calls it the Frightened Gecko Maneuver, for some reason," Shaak said, smiling slightly as she regained the initiative, "killing" another Night Owl before walking down the wall, her lightsaber flashing out to deflect blaster bolts at the same time.

"Oh, that is just not fair!" Bo growled, before charging forward.

OOOOOOO

"Gah!" Ranma grunted, looking up as a local boy with a water gun blinked at him. Ranma, Tess, Pol, and a few others had decided to head out of the training area to a few food stalls set up nearby for their meal today, more because Bo and Shaak's spar was going overtime than anything else. The local boy and several others like him had chased one another through their group, their water guns lashing out occasionally before Ranma could realize what was going on.

Meh, I suppose it's about time my female form came out again, Ranma thought philosophically, looking around at Tess and the others.

The Yavin vets among them didn't even bat an eyelash, simply smirking at Ranma's misfortune. Tess, Poll, and others who hadn't fought on the jungle moon however were all staring.

"So it's true," Tess breathed, shaking her head as she reached out to run a finger down Ranma's cheek. "I didn't really believe Clento and the rest when they said you had a curse like this. Where, how… I have so many questions!"

"Most of which I ain't gonna answer," Ranma groused, wiping her wet hair out of her head. "Sorry, but most of the private info about my curse is just that: private. 'How' I don't know; 'where' isn't important."

One of the other newcomers moved towards Ranma, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. He was a handsome sort of fellow, who was a bit of a ladies man. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in finding out entirely how the other side works would you?"

Ranma growled, her tiny fist flying down in a short arc to impact the man's privates like a drop hammer. "Hands off!" He squealed and fell to his knees, and Ranma walked on, resignedly fielding questions from Tess and the others.

After they had eaten and were on their way back to the training area, one of the others asked, "So wait, if the rumor about your curse is true, then did you really sing that song, White Light? Even without music accompaniment that's a good song."

So despite the scattered violence, two months after Ranma and Shaak's arrival on the planet the clan conclave began.

End Chapter


I really thought I would be done with the Mandalorians at this point. However again the issue was just so complex that it needed more time. However, the next chapter will see the end of the Mandalorian's clan conclave as well as Ranma and Shaak's involvement with them for a short while. At the same time several people will learn to not poke a sleeping dragon.

And ooh boy Am I loving writing in this universe!