Dear Qui-Gon,
It has been a while since I wrote in this journal, and even longer since you last appeared to me. I wonder whether you disapprove of my new occupation as Jabba the Hutt's bounty hunter, or perhaps the veil between our worlds has become too heavy for you to push aside. I have not dared ask Yoda if you still commune with him for fear of the answer. He disapproves of course.
A Jedi you are, Obi-Wan, he has said. No honour a mercenary has.
It is easier for him, sequestered away on Dagobah. He does not have young Luke's life in is hands, for all he watches over the boy through his Force-sight. He reminds me whenever we communicate that the boy is three years old now and under the Old Order he would have already started his training. I grew frustrated the last time, and suggested that perhaps he would like to come to Tatooine and persuade Owen Lars to let him train the boy, and I can sit in a swamp and judge his efforts.
Unhelpful your sharp tongue is, Obi-Wan. Instead on your task your focus should be.
It has been some time since we have spoken, and I have done everything the Jabba the Hutt has asked for me – perhaps Yoda is jealous that I heed the Hutt's word more than his own! Thankfully, my work for Jabba has not included anything which has troubled my conscience too deeply. I helped rescue some of his bantha herd that had gotten lost in the desert and chased down debtors among his crime faction in Mos Eisley. I even attended a meeting with one of his Hutt family members – in the shadows of course – so I could advise him of the veracity of his cousin's words. The result was the acquisition of a trading route to Kessel, quite a financial boon for Jabba and he was exceedingly pleased with me. By way of the meeting I also uncovered his cousin Hutt had his own spy in Jabba's court, a Rodian by the name of Silas. Unfortunately, Silas grew suspicious when his master's negotiations with Jabba did not go as planned, and fled offworld.
This required me to heed Jabba's command to bring to Rodian back to face Hutt justice, a cause of some anxiety. I was loathe to leave the Luke unprotected even for a short while, and I knew that the chances of my discovery were far higher once I returned to the Core. Jabba assured me that our deal would stand and the Lars farm and family would remain unmolested – provided of course that I was successful. It was a reminder that the future is not assured, and that my charge still remains in danger, although I trust Jabba will keep his side of our bargain as long as I am of use to him.
So my duty took me into Imperial Space – to the Mandalore moon of Concordia where I had tracked Silas down. The planet was far too close for comfort, and my heart was heavy to see the once beautiful and peaceful world assimilated so completely into the Empire. How my dear Satine would have wept to see the Imperial Academy blighting the capital city of Sundari, its grey walls built high on the site where the Peace Park had once stood. Perhaps it is well that she cannot see how her beloved Mandalore has fallen, how the hard-fought neutrality of her people during the Clone Wars has been replaced by Imperial recruits creating a new order of so-called "stormtroopers."
I think of her often, and you will forgive me if I do not feel it right putting such thoughts in writing.
I will stick to recounting my mission. While Mandalore is Imperial territory, it appears that its moon Concordia remains a haven for bounty hunters, mercenaries and other criminals. I had procured some armor in the Old Mandalorian style, for the customary helmet is useful for hiding my identity and although it would have made me a target on Imperial streets, among the criminal brethren it does not seem out of place.
Unfortunately, I miscalculated on this point, for while in any other system the armor is not uncommon among those who have fled Mandalore to escape the Empire and pursue lucrative careers in crime, on the moon of Concordia it drew the attention of a group I thought long since stamped out. It was in one of the dingy bars littering the moon settlement, and I had been making discreet enquiries as to the whereabouts of Silas since I knew him to be lodging somewhere in the city, likely looking for a new master to align himself with. A group of Mandalorians were seated at the table next to mine, and I took pains to avoid speaking with them, for a recognized the symbol on their helmets at once.
They wore grey and blue armor, such that I had not seen since the Clone Wars – the armor of Death Watch. I do not know how they took me for a fraud, but evidently they had been listening to my hushed conversations with the other patrons for some time, and despite concealing my Coruscanti accent I must have slipped. My danger sense flared but I was no match for a brawl against five, and I had left my lightsaber on my ship as I could not conceal it in my armor.
They tussled me up a bit, although the armor did its work and prevented any serious injury, then dragged me to the back room of the bar, where they locked the door behind them and forced me into a chair. Another Mandalorian sat at the rear of the room, shrouded in shadow with their booted feet propped up on a table.
"What have we here?" Her voice was steely and measured, and I recognised it immediately.
"An imposter," said the man next to me as he removed my helmet forcefully. "He is no true Mandalorian, but an outsider – a dishonor to us."
I felt his gloved fist slam across my face and tasted blood in my mouth, yet I did not cry out. I'd felt worse pain in my life. This seemed to irritate my attacker, who punched me again and I felt my nose break. That almost made me happy, because perhaps it would not heal properly and disfigure my face enough to hide my identity in the future.
"Stop," the female voice commanded from the shadows, and her lieutenant obeyed immediately, stepping aside to stand at attention facing her. She rose from her seat and walked slowly into the light, illuminating a pale, hard-edged face softened only by the sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks. Her red hair was cropped around her shoulders, and pale green eyes studied me intently.
"Hello, Kenobi," Bo-Katan said with a smug smile. "How nice to see you again."
