They covered my head in a burlap sack, took me out the back door of the bar and shoved me into a speeder. We traveled for some time, although as far as I knew they were driving around in circles for a while to give the illusion of distance. When we eventually stopped they hustled me inside a building and tied me to a chair in a dark room, where they left me alone for some time.

The Mandalorian armor was hot and uncomfortable, or perhaps I just felt ill-at ease in it. I tried to meditate to pass the time, and so I would not worry about what Bo-Katan and her crew would do to me. Although we were allies for a short while at the end of the Clone Wars, I am certain that Bo-Katan still hates me and the Jedi for our part in what has happened to Mandalore - for what happened to her sister.

It was my fault Satine died, after all.

After what seemed like hours the sack was yanked from my head, and the sudden light in the room stung my eyes. When they adjusted I saw Bo-Katan sit down in a chair opposite mine - she still wore her Death Watch armor, although without her jetpack or helmet. Her sharp green eyes glared at me for several minutes and I stared back at her in silence. I usually found such a tactic to unnerve people, but Bo-Katan held my gaze, unblinking, until she rolled her eyes upwards and sighed.

"I assume you're no longer going by the name Kenobi," she said in that hard-edged voice of hers, the one that invited no argument.

"No - they call me Sikesh now," I confirmed, giving her my cover name.

"Where did you get that armor?" she asked.

"I...liberated it from a bounty." It was the truth - both the name and demeanor I had acquired from a particularly slimy character who had accepted a bounty from Jabba and succeeded in the job, but had ransomed the prize back to her family for twice the credits. The fool had not even left Mos Eisley when I caught up with him and returned him to Jabba, and at night I try to forget the sound of the rancor crunching the man's bones. One less scum-merchant in the galaxy, I tell myself, as if that should alleviate my guilt.

"You're a skiptracer?" Bo-Katan seemed surprised.

I feigned embarrassment, and ducked my head. "One has to make a living."

"Bounty hunters," she sniffed. "Riff-raff and scum - a dishonour to our proud Mandalorian heritage. You're almost as bad as that Fett boy, running around with Cad Bane and Aurra Sing."

My interest was piqued by the name - I had heard rumors in Jabba's court that Bane's Syndicate was still active despite attempts by the Empire to squash it. Thankfully Jabba had not yet shown any inclination towards employing them since would go badly for me - many of Bane's crew knew my face.

"Except he's worse," Bo-Katan continued, smacking a closed fist into her palm. "He should know better." She stood and walked over to side of the room on which hung a large map of the ancient city of Sundari, long destroyed by the Mandalorian wars. "All around us there are thieves and betrayers - those pacifists who did nothing, whose beloved neutrality allowed the Empire to take over." She gently traced the curves and lines of the old city map. "We should have fought - we all should have risen up the day Palpatine's war ships breached our airspace."

"You would have all died," I told her gently. From what I had gathered from the holonet, the subjugation of Mandalore had been quite simple in the end. The Parliament had maintained their desire for neutrality but had been mindful of the Star Destroyers blockading the planet while negotiations proceeded. It was the death by a thousand cuts; one submission after the other until a Governor had been installed in the Palace and an Imperial Academy built at the very heart of the city.

"Better to die than to suffer under the Imperial yoke," Bo-Katan turned back to me, fists clenched and eyes blazing. "Like Satine - I envy her that."

My heart was pained to hear her name, unable to forget that terrible moment when Darth Maul cut her down for the sole reason that it would hurt me.

"She would have wanted you to live," I said softly, and saw Bo-Katan's face become hard and pinched.

"But not to fight," she said stiffly, and her eyes were dark and cold. "No, it is better she is dead. She would have been one of those who allowed the Empire to take hold, and then I would have had to kill her myself."

I felt slightly sick - for my own pain and hers, for the agony of such a thought - all that we have lost and all that we have become in this new galaxy. I doubt very much that Bo-Katan's words were the truth, and yet given my perilous position I chose not to argue.

It soon became irrelevant when a small child burst through the door, ginger hair flying behind her. "Mama!" she cried as she flung herself into Bo's arms. I had not realised that the dwelling was a home, as the room we were in gave the appearance of a meeting space, and yet glancing back through the open door the girl had left I saw the warmth of a domestic life. She could not have been more than four, clad in sleep clothes and her face soaked in tears.

"You have a child?" I asked Bo-Katan, looking at her in shock. I could feel the girl's distress roiling off her in waves, and knew that no ordinary nightmare had woken her.

Bo-Katan ignored me, putting the girl down on the empty chair and pushing back the hair from her face. "Mara," she scolded her. "What have I told you about disturbing me?"

Mara sniffed and wiped her nose. "Not to...but I had a bad dream."

"Dreams cannot hurt you," Bo said stiffly, and yet there was a tenderness in the way she stroked the girl's hair.

"My head felt hot again," Mara pressed one hand to the side of her temple. "It feels angry."

"Shhh," Bo-Katan urged her, drawing the girl into her embrace made somewhat difficult by her armor. "It's alright." The child's sobs soon died down, and peering over Bo-Katan's shoulder she seemed to notice me for the first time. Her brow furrowed and her lips curled into a frown, as if my mere presence was offensive to her. I tried to smile, but this only seemed to agitate the girl further, and she buried her head in the cold armor of Bo-Katan's shoulder somewhat unsuccessfully. Without another glance at me Bo-Katan picked the child up and carried her out of the room, returning some time later wearing a tired expression.

She said nothing as she again took her seat facing me and we sat in silence for several minutes, staring at one another as if in stalemate.

"The child is Force sensitive," I said when I could bear it no more.

Bo pursed her lips and then sighed heavily. "I know."

The selfish part of me knew in that moment I'd won – Bo would not turn me over to the Empire or anyone else for fear for her child. Of course I would never put the girl in such jeopardy, but Bo didn't know that, and for once I could use her hatred of Jedi to my advantage.

"She felt your anger," I said cautiously. "And it caused her distress. If I could sense it an Imperial agent may also." I'd heard rumors of the new Force acolytes of the Emperor - the Inquisitors who were helping Vader hunt down the remaining Jedi and any child found to have the Force.

"It will not matter," Bo-Katan shook her head. "All will be well soon enough."

Her words struck me with apprehension. "What are you planning?" I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.

"I told you once," Bo-Katan said in her voice of steel. "No outsider will ever rule Mandalore. We will take the planet back from the Empire."

"But your child," I protested. "Surely you know you cannot put her within the reach of the Empire – if she is captured Force knows what they will do to her. If she's lucky they'll kill her. If not…"

"This is for her," Bo insisted. "The rule of Mandalore is her heritage, her right. I can give that to her, to all of my people."

So they were planning a war - perhaps even an assault on the planet as Death Watch had done during the Clone Wars. But this time there were armed stormtroopers on the streets who would not hesitate to fight back. Even if they had insurgent support in Sundari it would be a hard task, and yet I knew there was nothing I could do to stop them.

"What will you do with me?" I asked, resigned.

"I know where your bounty is," Bo-Katan said. "I'll tell you, if you do something for me in return."

"If it's within my power."

"It is," Bo-Katan nodded. "Teach Mara how to hide her abilities, or shield herself of whatever you call it."

The request was so shocking I took a few moments before responding. "Such training takes a long time," I said uneasily. "And great skill. Even among the greatest of the Jedi, few could truly hide their presence. But I can teach her rudimentary control," I conceded, deeply moved to help this child who would walk such a dangerous path. "Enough that she will show no physical manifestation of the Force."

"Then do it," she ordered me.

I spent several hours with the child, although it took some time for her to trust me, so harshly had she been told to keep her abilities secret. I tried to explain that I was a friend of her mother's, but she saw through that easily enough. Eventually I told her the story of when I'd been tasked with protecting her Aunt Satine during the Mandalore Civil War, and how we had outrun bounty hunters and insurgents and through the course of it all fell in love. However, we both knew our duties lay elsewhere, myself to the Jedi Order and hers to rebuild the government on Mandalore. Sometimes, I told the child, life brings us great trials along with great happiness, and we must choose to stay true to our duty and purpose.

"What happened to her?" Mara asked me, wide-eyed and transfixed by my story. In the corner of the room Bo-Katan was glaring at me, although I couldn't quite decipher her expression.

"She died, young one," I told her child gently, putting my hand on her shoulder. "Only a few years ago now."

Mara scrunched up her face. "You didn't protect her in the end, then."

"No," I sighed, a great weight upon my heart. "I suppose not."