Blood of Mandalore

by Kurenaino

Engaged in a bloody civil war, the Mandalorian government requests the aid of the Jedi to help protect their Duchess, the last hope for peace in their war-torn world.

3. Zanbar

AN: These things just keep getting longer, don't they? Alright, expect at least a few days before the next update here, unless I get hit with inspiration. I have a few chapters to write on my other fic, since my readers seem to be getting antsy. Hopefully this monster will tide you over. Let me know what you think, my lovelies! Seriously, I want to know if you have ideas, what you like, what you don't. Your thoughts help me craft this story.

Chapter 3: Zanbar

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Satine Kryze were, in many ways, kindred spirits, Qui-Gon had come to realize. Both were emotional and cared deeply for those around them. Both were shamelessly intelligent and terribly stubborn. Both tried to remain composed and collected, no matter the situation, though Obi-Wan's Jedi upbringing had made him quite a bit better at that than the young Duchess, whose culture encouraged deep and unrelenting passion in all things. But above all else, they were creatures of duty, placing their responsibilities above everything else at the cost of their own well being. It was an admirable trait, especially for a hopeful Jedi Knight and the leader of Mandalore, but it left little room inside them for anything else but the roles they were born to fill.

It had taken them about five minutes to determine that they hated each other.

Qui-Gon sighed heavily as his student stormed into the cockpit and threw himself into the pilot's seat, his hands tightly gripping the yoke and his usual emotionless mask cracked beyond repair, showing the frustration and the irritation that lay just under the surface. It had been three days since they made their daring escape from Sundari, and they had yet to decide on a planet on which to land. It needed to happen soon, though, because they were running out of rations, and hunger was beginning to set them all on edge. Which was disastrously bad, because tensions were already high between the Duchess and his Padawan.

Things were fine, at first. Obi-Wan sat in his usual silence, while Satine retreated from the two Jedi to be alone herself, the weight of the day and her short, turbulent week in Sundari toiling upon her. When she emerged once again and attempted to engage the other teen, asking him a flurry of quick questions that the shy boy had no desire to answer in the aftermath of the three lives he had ended in their escape, Obi-Wan quickly shut her down in a rare moment of irritation, snapping as he asked if she ever stopped talking, and the reactionary Duchess handled it not at all. Silence settled between them, though where before it was a calm, contemplative one, now it was fraught with tension and anger.

The two simply brought the worst out in each other.

Attempts to broker peace between them had failed spectacularly. Satine took Obi-Wan's silence as arrogance, his detachment as callousness. She saw no passion within him, no drive, no desire, a thing she didn't understand, and a thing that infuriated her Mandalorian nature. She didn't understand how someone could serve as a protector when they simply didn't care. What's more, he was young, and her mission was a dangerous one, one she wasn't willing to entrust to anyone other than someone with wisdom and experience, both things she saw lacking in the young Jedi.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, saw her brightly burning passion as an affront to the Code he served, a blazing wave of emotions, deep and unrestrained pouring off the girl, and not a single one of them good. There was anger and grief, so deep, so dark that just looking at her made his careful defenses strain and split, filling him with a desperate anxiety to get away from a girl he saw as poisonous. He saw her nobility as superiority, her frantic desperation as aggression no different from the Mandalorians of the past, and her inquisitive nature, her overwhelming need for companionship tested his patience when he needed it most, his great need to be alone to center himself snapping against her need for emotional closeness. He hated her for invoking the worst in him almost as much as he hated himself for being so weak to allow it.

It was a problem. The two simply rubbed each other the wrong way, saw their differences as problems, and the few times they did speak, it was in vicious barbs meant to offend, Satine in the effort of getting an emotional response out of the boy, and Obi-Wan in an attempt to get the girl to leave him alone. It was unlike his student to let his emotions get away from him, but they were cramped on a ship together and they were getting hungry, and young Obi-Wan was still just a student and a teenager, stubborn and proud, little though he showed it. He was human, after all, and he wasn't perfect, something he was struggling to come to grips with.

"...are you strapped in, Master?" Obi-Wan asked quietly from the pilot's seat, and the Master looked at him curiously.

"Why? Are you expecting trouble?"

"We are drawing close to the Zanbar system," he said softly. "Given our last welcome to a Mandalorian system, I think it's fair to expect trouble." Qui-Gon quickly secured the restraints.

"Wisely said, my student."

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon winced, and quickly looked at his student, his previous ease melting into an uncharacteristic sneer, his hands tightening on the ship's controls. The Duchess didn't sound happy at all. "You do not get to just bail out on a conversation!" she snapped, entering the cockpit and the Force itself seemed to quake at her fearsome presence. Obi-Wan yanked the yoke to the side hard, sending the unsecured Mandalorian girl toppling ungracefully into the seat behind the copilot's position with a startled yelp. Qui-Gon quickly looked back at Obi-Wan, a small, smug smirk on his face for just a moment until he realized his Master was watching.

"Sorry, Master," he said, his voice almost his usual even dispassion were it not laced with satisfaction. He had meant to do this. "My hand slipped."

"You did that on purpose!" Satine snapped, leaping to her feet in her anger only to have the young Jedi send the ship careening to the side once again, the Duchess' tight grip on the back of Qui-Gon's seat the only thing keeping her from striking the wall. "Stop it!"

"Please," Obi-Wan said, his voice back to its smooth, even tone. He looked back at the Duchess when she didn't respond to find her both confused and highly irritated. "Stop it please," the Jedi said again. "Honestly, have some manners. I never thought I'd be teaching a Duchess courtesy."

"Courtesy?!" She snapped, starting to rise from her seat again, but thinking twice of it when Obi-Wan's hand tightened again on the yoke. "You are trying to lecture me on manners after trying to knock me over with your terrible flying?!"

"I'll have you know, my flying is exemplary when I don't have to listen to your emotional diatribe."

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon said sternly, snapping his student out of his attitude for only a moment before Satine cut back in.

"I preferred you when you were silent, Jedi!"

"As did I," Obi-Wan said mournfully. "Perhaps we should return to our silent arrangement. I look back on those long hours of tense, awkward silence quite fondly, actually."

"You insolent-"

"Both of you, silence!" Qui-Gon snapped, his deep voice raised and commanding, and both teens looked at him, startled at his harsh tone for just a moment before they both looked away sheepishly, embarrassed that their bickering had made it to the Jedi Master's attention. "Both of you will apologize immediately."

"I will do no such thing!" Satine said swiftly, glaring at the boy that she had come to anger her so deeply over the course of the past few days. "He started it, in any case, and I will not accept an apology from him any more than I would accept an apology from a droid! They don't mean it and neither does he because he is soulless!"

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and looked at his Master, casually gesturing his hand in the Duchess' direction as if to show Qui-Gon exactly what it is he had to deal with. Qui-Gon put his face in his hands and groaned. This was going to be a long mission. "I don't ask you two to like each other," he said softly. "I don't even ask you to get along. But if we cannot functionally work together, than I can't protect you the way I need to, and we will all die."

"I will do my duty, Master," Obi-Wan said swiftly, cutting off whatever it was that Satine was about to say. "You know I will. But our Code demands time for meditation and reflection, and-"

"And sometimes, my Padawan, the Code gets in the way of our ability to successfully complete a mission, as it is doing now." Obi-Wan looked down at the control console, his face flushing as he tried to keep the insecurities off his face. "I will not have this mission jeopardized because you do not wish to be vulnerable. To connect to others, Obi-Wan, to truly understand them, you must open yourself as well."

Satine sniffled in satisfaction as Qui-Gon inadvertently vindicated her. "We should send him back to Coruscant, Master Jedi, I don't need-"

"But I do!" Qui-Gon interrupted, his voice stern and filled with irritation he wouldn't be feeling had he not been so hungry. "I cannot protect you alone, Duchess, I need him. I know you have reservations because he is young, but there doesn't exist a more promising student in the entire Order." He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his long hair. "I was sent by the Order to protect Mandalore's only chance for peace, not to babysit children." Both of the teens began to mutter quiet apologies to the Jedi, but Qui-Gon held up his hand and they were silenced. "Padawan, you are going to sit there, pilot the ship, and attend to your studies."

"...of course, Master..."

"And you, Duchess..." he said, taking a deep breath as he looked at her, then closed his eyes and shook his head. "You know, I don't care what you do. Sit there, return to your quarters, talk, be silent, I don't care what. You don't need to talk to Obi-Wan. You don't even need to be civil, but so help me, if your tone doesn't reflect your noble birth, there will be hell to pay. Am I understood?"

"Y-yes, I'm sorry. I have...forgotten myself these past few days. It won't happen again."

"One step at a time, I will correct this lapse of common decency..." the Jedi muttered as he leaned back and closed his eyes, his breath slowing as he prepared to meditate.

They were silent for a long while, Qui-Gon sinking into his meditations, Obi-Wan alternating between setting the ship on course and studying text on his datapad, and Satine watching the two in quiet, repentant silence. Even on her best of days, she didn't think she could get along with stoic, aloof, arrogant Obi-Wan, but she could at least be respectful, as her mother taught her. Her father and brother would have wondered why she hadn't killed this Jedi yet. Bo-Katan would have killed him already.

Without warning, grief suddenly rushed through her, deep and intense as she thought about her mother, her father, her brother, all executed brutally by the Death Watch, and her sister, a part of the group that saw to her family's deaths and now sought to murder her as well. She tried to push the thought aside, but couldn't, her mind fixated on her little sister, just fourteen years old and already a murderer, already a woman, most like, if she practiced the customs of their savage past that she so exalted, and she knew that little Bo-Katan did. Mandalorians were hard, passionate people, and they readily embraced their passions, because tomorrow, they might be dead. It was something Satine loved about her people, and their passion was a beautiful thing to behold, all fire and light and love so intense it threatened to burn the heart out of anyone caught in its grasp. It wasn't anything that Satine would have. Her duty came first, and her duty was something that it seemed she would have to do alone. Which was fine. She was a warrior too.

When she looked up, she saw the young Jedi looking at her, his face cold and emotionless as always, but his eyes were...curious., almost as if they could see right into her. She bristled. It was extremely unsettling, just like much about this Jedi. "What are you looking at?" she asked, her tone even, respectful, but the words harsh and biting, and for just a moment, the Jedi had a look of surprise on his face, like he didn't know what to do with words that conflicted with her tone.

"N-nothing," he stuttered. "I just thought..." He shook his head. "Never mind..." He returned to his datapad, quietly muttering as he often did to himself, but this time, Satine could hear him, and she could have sworn what she heard was Mando'a. She leaned in closer, peeking over his shoulder at his datapad and grinned. It was Mando'a. He was studying the language. "What are you doing?" she asked, far louder than necessary being so close to his ear, and the boy tensed, a sharp gasp of surprise in his throat as he jumped and fumbled the datapad, his quick reflexes recovering just in time to catch it before it fell. He held it close to his chest, his eyes narrowed and skeptical, and the vaguest hint of annoyance on his face. He did have emotions, and he had expressed two in the span of a few minutes. It must have been a record for him. Perhaps they should celebrate this momentous occasion.

"Studying..." he nearly whispered, his voice calm and even as the expression dropped from his face. "As my Master commanded."

"Studying what?" she asked innocently, and those eyes narrowed further, a faint smile playing on Satine's lips as the boy's frustration mounted.

"The language of your people," he managed to say, his voice tense as his patience was tried. "It is...challenging."

"Can you say that in Mando'a?" He held his breath, and Satine could see the teen's chest tighten, though with what, she couldn't be sure. It could have been anything from nerves to anger. From frustration to plain stubbornness.

"Bic cuyir umaan," the Jedi said softly, slowly, as if he was weighing each of the foreign words on his tongue before he spoke them. The edge of his mouth twitched in satisfaction, not quite a small smile, but the emotion behind it was clear. But Satine did smile, a grin that never quite reached her eyes, and Kenobi frowned in response. Three days with the Duchess had taught him that her pleasure never ended well for him. He really didn't like this girl.

"Oh, you poor dear," she said, her tone sweet, but it reeked of patronization. "Your pronunciation is all wrong. Cuyir, not cuyir, umaan, not umaan. Forgive me, but you sound like a hopeless case." Obi-Wan bowed his head, and for a moment, Satine felt bad for having teased him, considering that he was trying to learn her language, which wouldn't be easy with his soft, aristocratic accent, but the feeling fled when she saw the hint of a devious smirk upon his handsome face.

"Forgive me, Duchess," he said, his smooth voice calm and even and slightly repentant. "Mando'a is difficult for me. It's harsh and grating, and nearly half of your vocabulary is as brutal as your people." His eyes met hers, and they almost seemed to glow with intelligence and wit, and for just a moment, Satine felt her heart begin to race. In anger, she decided. It could be from nothing else. "I'm just not made for such, I suppose," he continued. "Your very language sounds like the drums of war, no wonder your people fight."

"Don't be bitter just because you're hopeless, Jedi," she said, her voice tight but still controlled, but she glanced at the Master just to be certain she was not breaking his rules. She wasn't, if his closed eyes and deep, even breathing were any indication. She looked back at Obi-Wan and saw a flash of stubbornness in his eyes, bold and defiant, and he quickly looked away, his gaze back on the datapad in his hands and his face the very image of emotionlessness once again. Though she did get the last word, if felt like defeat. She glared at the back of the Jedi's head and felt instantly infuriated by nearly everything about him. His gall at showing her defiance when she was royalty and he was nothing but a student with a Master, not even his own man, not even a man at all! His aloof mannerisms, his habit of running that tiny, stupid braid through his fingers, his clipped, superior accent, the folds of his robes, his meticulous neatness, everything.

Obi-Wan reached up and pulled at his braid, and Satine couldn't take it anymore. "Are all Jedi so stubborn as you?" she asked, her tone biting as her frustration got the better of her, and Kenobi just looked back at her with that bored, indifferent expression.

"I don't know. Are all Mandalorians so aggressive as you?" He paused a moment to watch outrage play on her face. "Oh, wait..."

"Master Jedi, does the Jedi Order make creatures like him?" Satine asked, leaning over to Qui-Gon and pointing at the man's student when he opened his weary eyes. "Or was he just some mistake?" Qui-Gon sighed heavily.

"Duchess, the Jedi Order is a complicated-"

"I have time," she said swiftly. "I want to learn. If your student is studying about my people, I can learn about yours. Will you tell me?"

"We don't have time," Obi-Wan said, his tone harsh, and her frustration mounting, Satine whipped her head around to tell him exactly what she thought of him when she saw something out of the corner of her eye through the viewport, and her attention was immediately diverted. Out in space before them hung the planet Zanbar, white cloud cover swirling over the rich, deep blues of the dark side of the planet. That wasn't what caught her attention, though. She was focused on the capital ship that loomed in space over the planet, marked with the red, jagged image of a shriek-hawk, the symbol of Clan Vizsla and the Death Watch.

"How do they keep finding us?!" Satine asked, the panic in her voice rising as her heart pounded in her chest.

"I think we found them this time..." Obi-Wan said, his voice dispassionate as focus settled over him and his hands worked the navicom, quickly punching in coordinates for the ship to calculate their jump out of there.

"Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon said, his voice slightly tense with worry as he watched a swarm of starfighters pour from the capital ship, coming at them fast like a black cloud, alarms quickly beeping to warn that the massive ship before them had a weapon's lock on them. "We need to get out of here."

"I'm working on it," he snapped, his hands tightening around the yoke and the accelerator and activating the cruiser's weapon systems, the targeting array folding down in front of the copilot's chair, and Qui-Gon quickly took the controls.

"Those starfighters are faster than this ship!" Satine said quickly, her hands digging into the backs of the pilot and copilot chairs as she looked out of the viewport, her eyes wide and frightened. "We can't outrun them, and there are too many of them for us to fight!" She squeaked in surprise when Obi-Wan took the ship into a rapid, horizontal spin, rolling out of the way as a line of green ion energy tore through space from the capital ship, narrowly missing the cruiser, but taking out several of the buzzing starfighters in its wake.

"Sit down, secure your restraints and shut up!" Obi-Wan snarled, looking back at her from over his shoulder for a moment, his eyes alight with focus. "I know what I'm doing!"

"Do you?" Satine asked frantically as she quickly sat and locked herself in as directed. "Because you're flying right toward them!" The Jedi said nothing, the focus between them absolute as Qui-Gon shot the swiftly oncoming ships with the forward cannons, and Obi-Wan expertly piloted them through an array of plasma bolts and streaking torpedoes and green beams of energy from the capital ship, keeping as many starfighters between himself and the enormous vessel to have the ion cannon inflict maximum damage upon their own fighters as he artfully spun out of the way. When they drew closer to the capital ship, Obi-Wan thrust the yoke forward, causing the cruiser to dive underneath the Mandalorian warships and toward the planet in an effort to himself a chance to flip the ship around and use the planet's orbital pull to fling him out of range of the quickly closing starfighters.

In the grip of the planet's gravitational field, the cruiser began to shake and rock, both from the strain of the planet's pull and from the plasma bolts that occasionally struck them, depleting their slowly diminishing shields. Just a little further, and he'd have the chance to breech the planet's pull, gaining a boost of much needed speed as the ship was slung off into open space.

"Why haven't we jumped yet!" Satine asked, breaking her tense silence as she felt the ship begin to rock violently. "How much longer is it going to be?!"

"Two minutes twenty eight seconds..." Obi-Wan repeated emotionlessly as he spun the ship to the side, avoiding the next streaking beam of green energy just in time.

"That's a long time in a war zone, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said as he fired twice and destroyed the ship swooping down in front of them from above.

"I can do it, Master," he said confidently just as the ship rocked hard, the cabin lights flickering as warning alarms began to blare. The shields were down, and the cruiser's hyperdrive had been damaged. Obi-Wan swallowed hard, looked quickly at his instrumentations, and centered himself in the Force. "It's alright, this is still manageable!"

"It is not manageable!" Satine shouted, her system flooded with adrenaline and a cold, sinking feeling in her stomach. "This is beyond you, Jedi, set us down on the planet before you get us all killed!"

"They see us, Duchess!" Obi-Wan shouted back, keeping his eyes focused before him. "We set down, we'll be open targets, and we'll be dead for sure! At least we have a chance in the ship!"

"We do not!"

"We do!" he snapped, brimming with anger and confidence and defiance as he looked back at the shaking girl quickly. "I can do this!" He could. Just a little further, and they'd slingshot around the planet, and the boost of speed they got from that would be enough to put a safe distance between them and the starfighters. This was where he excelled. At the helm of a ship, he had no match. Just a little further...

Just as the cruiser was about to clear Zanbar's orbit, the ship lurched forward and rocked violently, the alarms blaring as the power went out, the sudden jolt knocking them all out of their senses, and when Obi-Wan managed to get his wits about him, he looked out the viewport to see Zanbar, then open space marked by stars, then the capital ship and the starfighters. Then Zanbar, bigger than before as they rapidly spun bow over stern, out of control as they rocketed toward the planet as they crashed.

He was going to be sick...

Closing his eyes for a moment to center himself and clear away his sudden nausea, Obi-Wan quickly moved to attempt to repair the dead ship, pulling out wires and rerouting the ship's thrusters to the emergency power and hoping that their emergency power systems hadn't been taken out with the rest. Just as flames filled the viewport with the burning of a steep and dangerous entry into the atmosphere, the emergency power blinked on, and Kenobi activated the thrusters, compensating against their spin and managing to even them out just enough to not burn up on their entry. He pulled back hard on the yoke with both hands, his arms shaking from the effort of fighting against the ship, and he looked over to his passengers, both dazed, but slowly coming to.

The Jedi regained his senses first, and he quickly undid his restraints and moved to the seat behind his, bracing his back against the copilot's chair as he gripped Satine's chair, adding an additional layer of protection between her and the impact he knew was coming. The ship was slowing, but not enough, and despite his best efforts, the smoking cruiser struck trees as they approached the ground, ripping through them like they were nothing, the rapid impacts slowing them down just enough that when the ship finally struck ground, it didn't explode or burn, the impact jostling them in the cabin and the ship slowed further by the damp, soggy ground of Zanbar's swamp terrain. Swamp water splashed up and showered the viewport, dousing the flames on the engines as it left long, deep furloughs in the soft soil. They had crashed, but they were all alive.

As soon as the ship stopped, the Jedi moved into action, Qui-Gon throwing off Satine's restraints and picking the girl up in his arms while Obi-Wan activated his lightsaber and drove it through the hull, cutting their way out of the wreckage of the ship. As soon as Obi-Wan jumped out, he sunk knee high into mud and swamp water, his eyes trained on the black of the night sky as he looked for the enemy ships. He couldn't see them through the thicket of trees that grew out of the swamps, but he could hear the screech of starfighters as they entered the atmosphere. The second Qui-Gon hit the ground with Satine tightly held in his arms, the Jedi were running as fast as they were able through the swamps as they looked for a place where they could regroup.

Qui-Gon kept a careful eye on his Padawan as they ran, the boy's eyes focused, his face calm and peaceful, the very image of a Jedi, but just beneath the surface, Obi-Wan's powerful mental walls lay in ruins, his presence shaky and uncertain like it hadn't been since the day he was made to repeatedly fail the Council's tests. Whatever confidence he had lay in his ability to fly, and that confidence had just been shattered, the result of compensating overconfidence and reaching just too high. With the boy's anxieties and his powerful drive toward perfection, this blow was a wound to an already slight pride that would not soon be healed.

Damn it...

They set down in a large tree hollowed out by decay that provided good cover from most angles and shielded them completely from sight from above. They could be seen from hole from which they entered, but they would be able to see anyone approaching first. It wasn't ideal, but it was going to have to do.

"I'm sorry, Master," Obi-Wan said softly, his voice shaking with emotion as Qui-Gon set the Duchess down. "I-I did the best I could, I-"

"I know, Obi-Wan..." he said kindly, a reassuring hand on the boy's shaking shoulder and watching with concern as a wide range of emotions played across the usually stoic boy's face. Repentance, fear and worry for what had happened, where they were, the danger they were in, and doubt, loathing and disgust for himself, for his failure, for what he had so foolishly led them into. "It was unavoidable. We wouldn't be alive now if you hadn't managed to safely crash us."

"This is your fault!" Satine hissed from her spot, rising from the ground and shaking in her fury, and Qui-Gon watched as the expression on his Padawan's face turned from apologetic to cold, pure rage. "I told you we should have set down! You should have flown away while we had the chance!"

"I told you," Obi-Wan growled through grit teeth, trying his best to control his emotions, but he was rapidly failing. "We couldn't set down! I did what I had to do, I thought-"

"You thought wrong!" she snapped. "Maybe you were just arrogant! Maybe, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you aren't nearly so good a pilot as you seem to think!" The words stabbed into Obi-Wan like a knife, a critical strike in a wound that was already wide open and bleeding, and he turned furious blue eyes on the Duchess, his usually expressionless face filled with anger and hatred and scorn so intense that Satine staggered back, her breath caught in her throat and too afraid to breathe, and she suddenly found herself missing the Jedi's quiet, emotionless demeanor, now suddenly seeming less arrogant and more quiet and contemplative in the light of the wrath he now turned on her.

"Alright, Duchess," he spat with contempt, slowly drawing closer to her and sneering when she drew herself up in a show of defiance despite her fear. "You wanted me to talk, hmm? You want me to open up and express emotion, well, here it is! Shall I tell you exactly what I think of you?"

"Yes," she said in a voice far more confident than she felt, but now, she was in her element. She had been dealing with the passionate mood swings of the Mandalorians since the day she was born, and she could certainly handle this emotionally stunted Jedi. "But you have to do it in five words," she snapped, hoping to impose Kenobi's own seemingly self-imposed limit on him, but those eyes just narrowed and he leaned in close to her. She didn't back away, not even when their faces were inches from each other.

"You will never change Mandalore," he slowly drawled, his voice expressionless as was his usual, but before, it had been flat, devoid of warmth, but also lacking the cold, removed quality of one who was truly heartless. Now, his tone was bitingly cold, and Satine found herself trembling for it.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon swiftly admonished, and with a callous smirk, the Padawan slowly drew out of the stunned Satine's space. "Apologize immediately!" The teenager turned on his heel to face the Duchess, mockingly bowed toward her, and stormed toward the opening of the tree.

"I'm going to scout ahead," Kenobi said swiftly, his hand on the lightsaber at his belt. "They'll be searching for us, and we need a better place to hide."

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon started. "It's best I-"

"Her Highness wants you to protect her, not me," he said bitingly. "This makes the most sense." Qui-Gon sighed heavily and bowed his head. This was for the best, not just in terms of guarding the girl, but for his student's own well being. He needed to be alone so he could recenter himself. Obi-Wan could always be trusted to do that, at least. When things were bad, he always returned to the Code for comfort and guidance, and now was no different.

"Try to be back within the hour."

"I'll see what I can do." With that, Obi-Wan took off and soon disappeared into the heavy mists of the swamp. With a heavy sigh, Qui-Gon leaned his back against the soft, spongy wood of the tree and ran his hand over his face as he reached out through his connection with his student and found the boy already returning to a calm, controlled state. Obi-Wan would be fine. He would always be fine.

"Master Jedi?" Satine asked softly after a long, fraught silence. "Do the Jedi-"

"I will not discuss the Jedi with you, Duchess," Qui-Gon said tiredly, refusing to meet the girl's hurt expression. He felt a headache coming on. "Not now. Not when I am angry at them. Not when the Code and the way of the Council has failed my student." He could feel the Duchess slowly creeping closer, but he ignored her as he delved into his own thoughts and frustrations. "We are told to open ourselves to others, but to never let our emotions rule us. Obi-Wan was woefully unprepared for this mission. Nothing in the Jedi Code could have prepared him to deal with an emotionally volatile teenage girl."

"...is this all my fault?" Satine whispered, her eyes downcast and her slight frame trembling.

"...no," the Jedi said after a moment. "No, this would have happened at some point regardless. The Code...does not prepare the younger Jedi for life in the galaxy. He grew up isolated, surrounded by children taught, the same as him, to distance themselves from emotion." He sighed. "But the galaxy is passionate, and maybe a Jedi Master can feel the powerful emotions around them and remain aloof, but a teenager?" He scoffed. "No matter the species, no matter the upbringing, and adolescent is an adolescent. There's already enough going on with hormones, but to then be exposed to a girl like you? And be expected to connect and remain unaffected?" Qui-Gon whistled. "Impossible."

"I-I've been awful and unkind..." she said, her voice trembling with emotions she tried desperately to hold back. "I-I didn't know, I-"

"As I said, this isn't your doing. If you weren't an emotional wreck, something would be terribly wrong with you. You and Obi-Wan...met at a bad time." He smiled gently at her, a hand on her shoulder and gently urging her to sit. She silently obeyed, her knees drawn to her chest as she waited for the Jedi Master to sit before her. "You need emotional comfort, and were met with his aloofness, which made you angry, which made him more withdrawn, and so on." He shrugged. "It's a cycle, and now you hate each other."

"He is...quite infuriating, yes," she said, her lips pursed as she thought about it, and the Jedi softly chuckled. "If you could just tell him to-"

"I can't do anything about Obi-Wan because he isn't here," Qui-Gon gently explained. "Nor would I if he was. Obi-Wan is Obi-Wan, and it is not in my power to change him. That change must come from within, as must yours." He looked her right in the eye when she began to protest, and she swiftly fell silent. "You are here," the Jedi said. "And so, I can help you. Tell me what troubles you, Duchess, and I can help you ease your burden."

She recoiled slightly, immediately rejecting the very notion. A leader relied on nobody. A Mandalorian didn't ask for help from outsiders, let alone Jedi. But...she was so alone, and had been so badly craving companionship. She would never like Obi-Wan, could never feel comfortable with such a cold creature, even if it wasn't his fault, even if that was the way he was raised. She was beginning to understand, and she disliked it all the same. Qui-Gon wasn't like that. He was warmth and compassion, deep and endless. For his sake, she would mind his student, would remain civil, would hold her tongue better than she had, but she didn't have to like him.

Slowly, carefully, she began to whisper to the Jedi Master about her mother, her father, her brother, about her people, both for her and against her, and slowly, Qui-Gon Jinn began to help her heal the wounds.

---

There is no emotion, there is peace...

Obi-Wan's sprint through the swamp slowed to a jog as he put distance between himself and the subject of his disturbance, and the cold, wet air of the swamp, the air filled with the calls of the local fauna, the feel of the planet teeming with life cleared his mind, the Code on his lips settling himself back into peace and serenity, and he felt awful. He had been needlessly cruel to Satine, had lost himself in a rush of anger brought on by a mix of his own frustrations with himself and the Duchess' own infectious anger. He had tried so hard to understand her, to connect as he was supposed to, the empathy of the Jedi bringing compassion and understanding, but every time he had opened himself to Satine, he was overwhelmed. What was worse was that no matter how guarded he was, she seemed to effect him, all of them united by the flow of the Force, and when he found his own careful guard shattered, he stood no chance to resist the overwhelming power of her emotions.

It wasn't her fault, of course. She was young and alone, desperate and grief-stricken and lashing out at all who came near. But such passion was...toxic, as Obi-Wan well knew, and was a dangerous thing to people who could feel the Force, as well as to those that could not. Satine had been made angry and cruel by the darkness thrust upon her. This was why the Jedi had the rules they did. This was why they did not allow themselves family and love. As if the lessons that Master Qui-Gon imparted to him were not enough, a terrifying, visual reminder of what happens when one becomes too attached, Satine stood as a cautionary tale, a bleak reminder of what happens when one becomes too passionate. It was all depression and grief and anger, a desperation so intense that it contaminated everything around her, made her lash out at those who did nothing to deserve it, changed even them into cruel creatures that moved to hurt her in turn, and so, she was trapped.

This was how the Dark Side held on to those that fell. This was why it was impossible to go back. Darkness could not be banished with darkness, and in her struggle, Satine had made him hate her, just as he knew she hated him.

There was little he could do for her but keep his distance and hope for the best. Nothing he had done had made a positive impact anyway. She was a difficult case, one better suited to his Master, not to him. But Obi-Wan did vow to do better. He could hold his tongue and keep his peace, but more than that, he could...

He didn't know. He felt...small. A Jedi was valued by the strength of their connection to the Force, but Obi-Wan had never felt the strength of the connection like his friends did, like the others did. His was but a drop in an infinite ocean, so slight that he had nearly been passed over by twelve of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy. No, his value was elsewhere, and he etched out his influence where he could make it. He was smart, this he knew, and steadfast and dedicated, and until today, he had considered himself something of a great pilot, good enough to consider it as an option were he to fail his Trials. But now...

Gone. All of it.

Satine had been right, cruel as though she was about it. He was not the pilot he believed himself to be. And she...could not save Mandalore. He had meant that, though not as cruelly as he had made it seem. She was too much like her kinsmen, though where they drew weapons, Satine used words, something far more powerful, and even with a Jedi's defenses, they still cut, and they still hurt. She was a soldier, just like the others, and someone so cruel as she had shown herself to be, regardless of the reasons, could not lead Mandalore to peace. But she would. He could feel it deep inside him. She was young and unpolished, but given time to learn and grow, Satine Kryze could bring her peace to Mandalore. That's what he should have told her, not left it as he had.

He felt stupid, a mess of conflicting emotions and ideals. Qui-Gon had said that adolescence was difficult, but Obi-Wan had thought it had been limited to embarrassing thoughts that seemed to creep into his mind and severely uncomfortable mornings of painful, shameful, pointless arousal. He didn't think it would include acting like an absolute child in front of the first beautifully passionate girl he laid his eyes on. It was like his thoughts weren't his own. It was like Quinlan sat laughing in the deepest parts of his mind.

The Force tugged at him, strong and insistent and pulling him out of his mind and into the present, and the Jedi dropped to the wet and muddy ground, slowing his breathing and his heartbeat in his focus. There was nothing he could do about Satine, so thinking on her was pointless. All that mattered was the mission, and the mission was to keep her alive. It was simple, clear, without complications, and that was something he could handle. A smile crossed his face as he felt the Force pulse within him, guiding him slowly along as he silently crawled close to the ground. He felt...clear. Focused, his emotions fading before the task at hand. He could do this. Satine's feelings, her frustrations with him, his own frustrations with her, none of it mattered, and he released it into the Force, focus and purpose filling him like a breath of fresh air.

Anything within him that felt weak, inadequate, lost, hopeless...all of that could be dealt with together with his Master when they next had the time. For now, all that mattered was the mission and the calling of the Force.

As Obi-Wan crawled, he slowly became aware of the wrongness around him, the Force not just rippling with life, but disturbed by ill-intent, by violence, by killers, murderers, and not just one. Hundreds. He felt them first, then he heard them, pressing himself low to the ground when ships went screeching overhead. He slowed, being mindful and cautious, focusing on his return to his Master and his charge, and keeping to the underbrush, he peaked out over the edge of a gradual slope down into a murky valley, and that's when he saw them. Mandalorians. Thousands, all in the black and blue of Death Watch, all rushing about like a swarm ready to defend their hive. They were deploying ships by the dozen, entire squadrons of soldiers with jetpacks taking off into the air, large companies of soldiers on foot spreading out in search parties, their helmet lights on to see better in the dark and accompanied by large, savage looking carnivorous quadrupeds that sniffed at the ground and screeched. Tracking animals.

Obi-Wan didn't understand much Mandalorian, and from the distance, they were difficult to hear, let alone understand, but he gleaned enough from the words he did understand to know what was happening. They had found the ship they had shot down, confirmed it to be the ship the Duchess left Sundari with, and without any bodies present, they were hunting for Satine and her Jedi guard. When a group began heading in his direction, their steps cautious and uneasy, Obi-Wan sprinted from the scene as fast as the Force would allow, praying they did not know he was there, but he knew very well that was extremely unlikely.

That they had landed in a swamp was fortunate. Many things about the terrain would make them difficult to hunt.

He didn't make straight for their hiding spot, instead opting to go out of his way to tromp through swamp waters, and on one occasion, dive into a pool of clear, crystal water flowing down from a waterfall that cut into the rocky surface of a cliff face to make it harder to track him. He took note of this pool of water, running deep into the ground, far beneath the surface, and he could sense something...something else there. He didn't know what, but it felt like safety to him. Logging the location of the pool in his mind, he continued his serpentine train through the swamp back to Qui-Gon and Satine.

He arrived to the Jedi Master gently holding the girl as she cried, and upon his breathless arrival, Satine jumped to her feet, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffling, her head tall and her eyes proud, and already, Obi-Wan could feel the tension between them. He pushed it to the side. He could live with tension. The Force knew that he had his fair share of tension training being friends with Quinlan Vos.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, his voice low and concerned and he quickly rose when he saw fear in his young student's eyes. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"Death Watch," Obi-Wan gasped, and he shivered, as if saying it out loud made him realizes the gravity of the situation. No ship, no means of escape, stranded in a swamp with the most hunted person in the entire sector, and her enemies owned the planet. "There's an encampment a ways off, there are thousands of them, and that was just what I could see."

"...how far away?" Qui-Gon asked, lowering his voice and suddenly very keenly aware of every sound, the smell of the air, the shifting of the Force.

"I don't know, maybe...ten klicks or so to the south." Obi-Wan frowned and shook his head, the fear within him slowly rising into anxiety driven panic. "Look, it doesn't matter where, they're coming, Master. They know we're here, and they're mobilizing their forces to hunt us. They found our ship, they have tracking animals, ships, soldiers with jetpacks and-"

"Did they see you?" Qui-Gon asked quickly, and his Padawan just stood and stared at him, gasping as he tried to speak, but no words came out. "Obi-Wan, focus! Did they see you?!"

"I-I don't know!" the Padawan finally managed to choke. "I did what I could to cover my tracks in case they did, I-" He stopped when he heard a low flying ship overhead, followed by the roar of jetpacks and the rush of air from flames, smoke rising in the distance as flamethrowers were turned on underbrush in an attempt to flush them out of hiding. The smoke wasn't far off, and within seconds, they could hear the harsh shouts of the soldiers and the quick, sharp howls of their tracking beasts.

"You brought them right to us!" Satine gasped, though her tone wasn't accusatory, simply frightened.

"I-I did no such thing!" Obi-Wan quickly objected. "They were coming for you anyway, they know you're here!"

"If you didn't lead them to us, then the time it took to cover your tracks ruined any advanced notice we could have had," Qui-Gon said, soft and quick as he took his lightsaber in his hand. One look at the fearful, desperate, apologetic face of his Padawan softened him for a moment, and he laid his hand on the boy's shoulder, the teenager flinching from the sudden contact. "If what you say was true, they were coming anyway. At least you got a look at exactly what is coming for us." He pointed to his temple. "Next time, Obi-Wan...we share a connection. Use it. I felt your disturbance in the Force, but...that has been your natural state these past few days, hasn't it."

"...forgive me, Master," Obi-Wan whispered, his gaze drifting to stare at the ground. He couldn't look at his Master any more than he could look at the Duchess, though the reasons were vastly different. This was guilt, and it felt much worse.

"What are we going to do?" Satine asked quickly, her hands wringing together to keep the Jedi from seeing how much she was trembling.

"We're going to run," Qui-Go said quickly, leaning his head out of their hiding spot and looking around, and he leaned back in quickly and hissed when he saw lights in the distance. They were very close. "Obi-Wan, we're going to have to fight our way out. How big were their search teams?"

"I-I don't know..." he muttered, closing his eyes as he thought. "Squads of twenty, I believe, for the ground troops. Squads of ten for the jetpacks. I think the starfighters were leaving in pairs."

"That's a lot of people..." Qui-Gon took a deep breath. "Maybe we can fight off one squadron together, but the Mandalorians are feared throughout the galaxy for a reason. Once we make our presence known, they will all be coming for us. We need to hide. Did you see anything out there we could use?" The boy didn't respond. "...Obi-Wan!"

"Yes!" the Padawan gasped, startled by the Master's hard tone. "Yes, I saw something. Well...I felt something. Out in the forest. I didn't see it, but it felt like safety."

"That's it?!" Satine scoffed. "We're going to run out into dark woods swarming with soldiers that want you because of a feeling?!"

"That is exactly what we are going to do, Duchess," Qui-Gon said firmly, his tone strong and commanding and leaving no room for debate, and the girl fell silent, her fear intensifying. This was far, far more dangerous than being in Sundari during attacks. "Obi-Wan, can you take us there?"

"I can." Qui-Gon gave his student a quick nod as the boy reluctantly took his lightsaber in hand. "Duchess, stay close." Without hesitation, the girl slipped between her Jedi guards, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, but now that there was a plan, she was resolved and committed to it. "Lead the way, Obi-Wan."

They ducked out of their hiding place, creeping slowly through the swamp water that came nearly to their waist to minimize the sound of splashing, and as soon as they hit the soft ground of the shore, they took off running, keeping low and staying in the shadows and underbrush as much as they could. They didn't get far before a sharp, swift howl pierced the still, silent air, heavy and oppressive without the sounds of the wildlife around them, the creatures of the swamp muted as they hid from the intruders in their home. The silence was further broken by the modulated shouts of the Mandalorians through their helmets and loud splashing as the search group ran through the swampy water. All hope that the Death Watch was somehow on the wrong trail was dashed when blaster fire raced past them, uncomfortably close to their heads.

They ran faster, the sudden rush of adrenaline urging them even faster, and while they managed to increase the distance between them and their pursuers, they couldn't avoid the group of warriors on jetpacks rushing at them from ahead and slowly moving out to flank them. The Jedi stopped before a large, thick tree and pressed Satine against it, ignited their lightsabers as one, and stood protectively before her. It was the closest thing to a defendable position they were going to get.

"Your count puts us at thirty Mandalorians," Qui-Gon said softly to his student as he raised his blade and quickly deflected the burst of blaster fire aimed at them, sending the bolts back at the one who shot them and striking not only him, but the two flying in formation beside him, their bodies dropping out of the air and falling heavy into the waters of the swamp.

"For now..." Obi-Wan muttered softly, deflecting the bolts of plasma as well, his focus intense and his gaze resolved as his deflections missed the soldiers, but he didn't miss when he raised his hand and threw two swiftly approaching ground soldiers back with the Force, their flailing bodies flung into the group behind them and causing several of them to be knocked over. "They will call for reenforcements if they haven't already, Master. We can't kill an entire army!"

"You're right, we can't..." The two Jedi moved as one, their blades swinging so quickly to deflect the blaster fire it seemed as though the light wove a protective barrier around their charge. Qui-Gon's blade seemed to move by the hand of the Force, instinct and reflex alone driving his movements as his focus turned toward the Death Watch, the soldiers keeping their distance from their dangerous enemy as their comrades slowly began to fall. His eyes shot to one as he prepared a rocket launcher, and with a quick wave of his hand, Qui-Gon sent the weapon spinning in the air just as the trigger was pulled, causing the missile to land at the feet of a small group and detonating in the soft earth, the resulting explosion killing those caught in the blast radius.

"Briirud rud, eso te aru'e!" one of the soldiers, the obvious commander, shouted, and Satine quickly pulled at Qui-Gon's robes.

"They're circling around behind us!" He didn't look at her, but he quickly nodded to indicate that he heard her, and he reached out with the Force, turbulent and disturbed and choppy with violence and murderous intent, and he felt it, sharp and deep and from behind them, just as the girl had indicated. Without taking his gaze from the bulk of the soldiers before them, Qui-Gon spun his blade in his hand, caught it in a backhanded grip, and thrust it behind him, the emerald plasma of the weapon piercing through the chest of the soldier that approached from behind. He dropped to the ground, dead instantly, and with a powerful push of the Force from both Master and Padawan to their flank, the Death Watch rethought the strategy of trying to circle behind them.

With the Mandalorian dead right beside her, Satine swallowed hard, reached over and laid a hand on his helmet, silent for just a moment before she reached down to the holster on his leg and drew his blaster, trained it on the soldiers before her, and began to shoot back. Obi-Wan glanced down at her from the corner of his eye when he felt the change in her, the shift from fear to grim determination, and he watched her shoot.

She was a terrible shot.

Her shots struck shoulders and arms and legs, never chest, never head, and it took Obi-Wan a moment to realize that her terrible shooting was actually very good shooting. She was missing on purpose, disabling, hurting, but not killing, and despite the direness of the situation, she couldn't help but feel the pull of admiration within him, the young ruler forced to fight her own people, but refusing to kill them. They were all Mandalorian, all her people, all her responsibility, even if they rejected her rule.

When the pulse weapons were brought out, Qui-Gon quickly neutralized the force of the blast of energy with his own push of the Force against it, the blue circle of energy dissipating into the air time and time again as the Master used the Force the way the soldiers used the pulse rifles.

"I'm going to create an opening," Qui-Gon softly told his Padawan. When you see it, take the Duchess and run, I'll cover your retreat."

"I won't leave you, Master," Obi-Wan said softly, his blade spinning before him as he batted back yet more blaster shots, his hand quickly sweeping before him to deflect the rocket that was shot just enough to send it flying past them.

"You will," Qui-Gon said firmly. "You must. We will die if we stay here, and their reenforcements will be coming. They will be worse shots on the move and they will be forced to spread out. We can handle them then." After a moment's hesitation, Obi-Wan nodded, his face drawn in his focused determination, and he reached back and grabbed hold of the Duchess' hand, squeezing it reassuringly when he felt her tense. "Are you ready?"

"Ready, Master."

"Run. I will be right behind you." His hand balled into a fist as he grabbed the pulse rifle with the Force, wrenching the weapon sideways just as it was shot and sending the rapid energy disc flying into the soldiers off to their side, their bodies tensing and shaking as they collapsed to the ground, and as commanded, Obi-Wan ran, the Duchess' hand tight in his own, his lightsaber deftly blocking the shots fired at them as they rushed past their line. The Mandalorians were relentless, their diminished force shouting and angry as their target escaped, quickly giving chase only to be met by the dangerous green blade of the Jedi Master, the man cutting through arms and legs, stabbing through lungs and hearts as the warriors scattered through the swamp in pursuit of the two teenagers.

Obi-Wan stayed right at Satine's side, keeping perfect pace with her even as his attention was behind them on the Mandalorians that managed to rush past Qui-Gon's deadly blade. He could feel his Master through the Force, focused on the task, not the Code that Obi-Wan always held so close to him when things were bad. It made the job easier, made killing easier without the Way of the Jedi to interfere, without looking toward the future and imagining the people that would suffer for the death he dealt, existing only in the moment where success boiled down to a matter of kill or be killed. And Qui-Gon would be successful.

He swung his lightsaber behind them, effortlessly batting away the bolts that made their way to them, his entire being open to the Force as he heard Satine's labored breathing, the high, whine of blasters being primed, the shouts of the Death Watch, the roar of the jetpacks' engines drawing swiftly closer, the pounding of his own heart. They would be on them soon, and Qui-Gon wouldn't be here in time. He swallowed hard and banished the pain in his chest when he realized what he would be forced to do. Killing people in enemy starfighters was one thing, but this...this was far more personal, more painful. But he had to.

He swiftly turned, his hand tightly clutching Satine's as he pulled her down into the swampy water, the girl falling with a cry of surprise as the Jedi planted himself before her and rapidly spun his lightsaber, deflecting the punishing barrage of blaster bolts that rained down on him from above, not a single redirected shot striking the man that fired it. He stayed in the air, circling around to try and hit the girl that the Jedi protected, but Obi-Wan would not allow it, keeping himself between the warrior and the Duchess, no matter the angle. With a frustrated cry and a swiftly spat curse that Obi-Wan did recognize from his studies, the Mandalorian attempted to fly over the Jedi's head, to get a clear shot from above, but Kenobi reached out with the Force and grabbed hold of the jetpack and pulled hard, the powerful motion pulling the Death Watch trooper back and causing the jetpack to spark and smoke.

The warrior dislodged himself from the pack, dropping to the swamp just as the jetpack's fuel cell ignited and exploded, and once on the knee high water, he waster no time in raising his blaster and firing rapidly at the Jedi as he swiftly advanced, the lightsaber blocking every strike that came toward him. Obi-Wan had no time to think, no time to do anything but move on instinct as the Mandalorian rushed him, and with his blade spinning in his hand, he ducked down to avoid a shot that narrowly missed his head, and when the soldier was nearly on top of him, he rose again, driving the blade upwards and piercing the soldier through the lungs, the tip of his weapon extending out behind him. He could hear the modulated voice gasp and gargle as air and life left him, could feel the Force shiver in his death throes, and Obi-Wan felt cold deep in his bones, and it haunted him.

He could see the green glow of Qui-Gon's lightsaber as he rushed toward them through the mist, cutting down the Death Watch soldiers that had managed to get by him before, but everything seemed to be moving so slowly to Obi-Wan, like everything was underwater, like he couldn't breathe, like every time he tried, his lungs filled with freezing liquid, and it burned. It was worse than the first time he had killed someone barely a week ago, something he had wished to never feel again, and it sickened him. He felt his life fade like the extinguishing of a flame, like the chill of darkness where the sun used to shine warmly, like water slipping through his fingers, and he felt lost, cold, desperate to make the feeling vanish, and he retreated deep into himself to protect himself from the thick haze of death that he had brought upon him.

He saw the soldier out of the corner of his eye, the blue and black armor approaching just off to his side, his blaster pistols raised and aimed at the Duchess. Everything was moving so slowly, even Obi-Wan, and he raised his lightsaber, moving it before her to deflect the two bursts that fired from the blasters. With everything moving so painfully slow, Obi-Wan could see everything, the red bolts of plasma as they left the twin barrels, the streak of light from his weapon as it moved through the air too slow to block them. His blade wouldn't be fast enough. He twisted, trying to angle the blade in a better position, but it was too little, too late, and with no other options left, the mission clear and focused in his mind, Obi-Wan stepped between Satine and the killing shots.

Time returned to its normal flow, and Obi-Wan was slammed by the two blaster bolts, the searing plasma burning into his right shoulder and his left side, and he gasped sharply as he staggered backwards, the immense pain rushing through him silencing the sounds of Satine's scrams. He could feel nothing else, his vision tunneling into intense focus as he looked upon the soldier before him, and the pain turned to steel in his veins, hard and stalwart and impenetrable, his feet digging into the mud under the water as he firmly held his ground. Obi-Wan felt his mental walls fly up, stronger than ever before, his physical resistance pushed far beyond what he believed himself to be capable of, and in that moment, he felt that nothing could kill him, not while he was defending that ungrateful, infuriating, frightened, beautiful Duchess.

He didn't miss the next three shots. His lightsaber moved so swiftly he could barely see the blade, the first two shots redirected to strike the water, but the third was expertly deflected, the red plasma shooting back at the soldier and burning a hole right through his helmet, and the man dropped dead, his body landing with a splash in the water. Obi-Wan watched as another soldier came rushing toward them, but before he could get close, green plasma shot out of his chest ad Qui-Gon ran him through, his weapon deactivating as he rushed to his Padawan and grabbed him as he staggered back, his hand clutched to the burning hole in his side.

"We aren't far now, Master..." Obi-Wan said, his voice perfectly even, perfectly removed from his body, even as he felt the warm touch of Qui-Gon's healing hand upon the smoking wound."

"Are you strong enough?" Qui-Gon asked softly, his voice tight with worry, and Kenobi nodded. "Reenforcements are coming," Qui-Gon said swiftly, pushing the two teens forward through the water and jogging behind them as they picked up speed. "I heard them approaching when I came for you. They won't be long now." He nudged Satine, the girl shaking as silent tears ran down her face and looking with grave concern at the boy that had saved her again. "Faster, Satine."

"B-but-"

"Obi-Wan is fine. Run. Do not compromise the mission by stalling."

She didn't need to be told twice, though she had to stifle a sob as she began running faster and her Jedi companion groaned in pain, his eyes shut tightly for a moment before they opened, hard and impassive as they always were. He was focused, and all she could do was trust that he could make it.

They made it to the deep pool at the base of the waterfall before the Death Watch reenforcements arrived, though they could hear them through the silence of the swamp. A quick examination of the area told Qui-Gon everything he needed to know, understanding what Obi-Wan had sensed in this place, and he removed a small breathing apparatus from the pouch on his belt and handed it to the Duchess. At first, she did nothing, just stood staring into the forest in the direction of the distant shouts drawing closer to their position. When Obi-Wan jumped into the pool, his hand extended to her as he treaded, the corner of his mouth twitching in pain, she put the device into her mouth, took his hand, and slid in after him.

They dove beneath the surface, the Jedi pulling the Duchess as he went deeper, though she couldn't see where it is they were going. Neither could Obi-Wan, so far as she could tell, because his eyes were closed. She wondered how long a Jedi could hold their breath. Surely longer than a normal person, or he would have been using the breather she knew he must have had, given that his Master carried one. After a moment, she saw it, difficult to see under the churning water and bubble stream under the waterfall, but there was a small opening in the rock at the edge of the pool deep beneath the flowing water, just big enough for a person to squeeze through. She followed obi-Wan through, grasping hold of his leg as they swam up through the pitch black of the tunnel.

Obi-Wan stopped, suddenly disappearing, and Satine kicked her legs and breached the surface, cold, damp air on her face making goose bumps rise upon her skin, and the Jedi helped pull her out of the water, his lightsaber in hand and ignited and bathing the cavern in blue light. Her eyes widened in amazement as she looked around the cave, big enough to hold the three of them, big enough to hold ten of them and still have room to spare. Towards the back, the light of the glowing plasma lit what looked like a tunnel going back, going deeper into the ground. It was...amazing. And to think that Obi-Wan knew it was here without even laying eyes on it...

With a gasp, she reeled around, remembering what had happened to her protector, and she saw the Jedi sitting propped against a rock, the Master leaning over him with his large hands covering the burned holes in his student's robes, Obi-Wan breathing fast, his eyes closed, his face showing pain, and Satine rushed to his side.

"You'll be fine, Obi-Wan," he said softly, a small, relieved smile on his lips. "You were lucky that nothing vital was hit."

"...I know."

"I need to go," Qui-Gon said swiftly as soon as Satine stood beside him, rising to his feet and his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber.

"What?" she gasped, looking up at the Master. "You can't, we're safe here, we-"

"We are not safe," he said firmly. "We aren't going to be safe until this war is over. In a moment, the entirety of the Death Watch compound is going to be combing over this area in search of us, and they will find us. I'm going to lead them away, get them looking elsewhere. If we're lucky, they'll focus on following me rather than doubling back." He took a deep breath and looked at his student. "Protect her while I'm away, Obi-Wan. You're in charge while I'm away."

"Master..."

Qui-Gon smiled gently at his student, knelt down ans gently touched his face. "I will be back, Obi-Wan. Rest, get a fire started, if you can, dry off. I'll return before you know it."

"Qui-Gon, please," Satine said, but stopped herself from speaking further when he held up a hand, smiled at her, and lowered himself into the hole, disappearing beneath the surface.

It was silent between them, and it was awkward. Satine didn't know what to say, didn't know if she should even say anything, since the boy had requested her silence in the past and always seemed to be grateful to have a reason not to talk. The last they spoke, they had parted very poorly, though she could not find it in her to blame him for what had happened. Not much, in any case. It was, of course, still his fault, but...she was responsible as well. Qui-Gon had been right. They had gotten off on the wrong foot, they must have. The boy she imagined him to be would never have taken a shot for her the way Obi-Wan had. Perhaps he disliked her. Hell, she still couldn't find it in her to like the passionless boy, brushing him off as both bland and uninteresting in the best of cases. No person who lacked passion was ever worth it, in her experience.

But he was brave, and he was noble, and that was enough. She may not have liked him, but she could respect him. She did respect him. And she had been awful. The reasons were inexcusable. She was a Duchess, nobility, a diplomat, and with any luck, a broker of peace for her people. To do that, she would have to learn to work with people she didn't like, people far worse than the quiet, self-sacrificing Jedi she found herself sharing a cave with. She would do better, not just for Obi-Wan, but for herself as well.

And yet, she couldn't find it in her to speak. Each time she tried, her voice caught in her throat, a shiver running through her as she watched him struggle to shrug off the heavy, rough spun brown cloak he wore, groaning from pain and the effort of moving, and he tossed the damp thing before him and touched his lightsaber to it, the blade hissing and sputtering as it made contact with the fabric and singed through it, leaving the fibers alight with embers that quickly went out. He tried again twice more with no success, but on the forth attempt, the embers leapt up to become small flames glowing in the darkness, slowly burning along the fabric as the heat dried it, the tightly wound fibers of the cloak slow to burn. It would take some time before they would have a fire, but they would have one. She hoped...

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said softly, his voice tinged with pain, and Satine silently scolded herself for allowing the Jedi to be the one to break the silence. "I know...you'd rather have Qui-Gon with you than-"

"No!" she said swiftly, her voice louder than intended and made only louder by the cave. "No..." she said again, whispering this time. "It...can't be helped, in any case..." She looked at him, his face cold and impassive as before, but now, she could see the pain through the mask, and it hurt her. "We...started badly," she said, and the Jedi chuckled softly before he fell into a fit of pained coughing.

"That can be said, yes."

"I'd like to start again, but..." Satine sighed heavily and looked at him. "I don't like you, Obi-Wan. I find you passionless and aloof and I was taught that indifference is the worst crime of all. Your silence, your recklessness, it...infuriates me." She looked away from him. "But you are also...brave. And selfless. And even though you were afraid, you did something, while I did nothing at all. It's...admirable." She took a shuddering breath and was grateful for the colored blue light that his the deep blush on her cheeks. "I'm...proud to have you as my protector." When she looked back at the Jedi, he was looking away from her, silent and stoic as always, and remained so, and with a frustrated huff, Satine sat against a stalagmite that grew toward ceiling.

"I don't like you either," Obi-Wan said after a long while, and Satine looked over to where he sat, his hand tugging on the braid behind his ear. "Your passion makes you aggressive, uncompromising, closed to others when one in your position must be open. There is no peace within you. You are all harsh reactions and stubbornness." He paused for a moment, and Satine stared at him expectantly. It was...oddly refreshing to speak frankly like this. "...but your passion is what will make you great," Kenobi whispered. "It burns so bright, it is difficult to look at. You...burn with life, Satine. You don't just walk this world, you are a part of it. I find that...magnificent."

"That's the most I've ever heard you speak," she said, a small smile on her face.

"It's the most you're likely to ever hear me speak. I'm no good at it."

"No?' she asked, scooting closer to him. "I thought you were quite eloquent." she held out a hand to him. "Truce? I still hate you, of course, but-"

"Truce," Kenobi said quickly, grabbing her hand lightly, almost shyly, she thought, and letting it go a moment later. "I can handle being hated, Duchess, if you can just leave me in peace."

"Done, you gutless, boring cretin," she said, and the Jedi laughed, soft and genuine before he switched his lightsaber off, his cloak burning with small, dancing flames, and he closed his eyes to rest. Satine watched him for a long while, and for the first time, found his silence...soothing. Peaceful, even, something she hadn't felt in a long while. It was good to discuss their feelings, in part because it was confirmation that Obi-Wan had them. This was something she could handle. Her Jedi protector was brave and stalwart, had saved her life several times, now that she looked at it. For that, she could give him his silence. He deserved no less.

She wasn't certain how long it was before Qui-Gon returned, but when he did, the fire was burning strongly on the Jedi's cloak, and pangs of hunger had her curled on the ground. But he did return, his hair and clothing soaked through, but appearing uninjured.

"They're gone," he said softly, peeling off his own heavy brown cloak and dropping it to the ground. "At least for now. I have them investigating a search perimeter on the other side of their outpost. You were right, Obi-Wan. It's huge."

"We need a way to get off this planet," he said softly, and the Master nodded.

"We'll find a way. I need you to recover first."

"We need to eat..." Satine said softly, and the Jedi looked at her sympathetically. "I can-"

"You will stay here with Obi-Wan while I investigate the rest of the caves and see if I can find something edible."

"Master," Kenobi said quietly, his teeth grit as he sat up, and the Master quickly laid a healing hand on his side and forced the boy to lay down again.

"I need you to stay here and study," Qui-Gon said gently. "You said you're going to learn Mando'a, and you will." Kenobi frowned.

"Master, my datapad shattered in the crash, and the water has left it hopelessly ruined."

"Hmm..." The Master crossed his arms over his chest. "Good thing you have a native speaker of the language here," he said, looking at Satine, and the girl drew up.

"Now, wait a moment! I am no teacher, and he's already shown himself to be hopeless! He thinks it's a base, barbaric language anyway!"

"Well, it sounds to me like you have your work cut out for you. And you, Duchess," he said, a clever smile on his face as he pointed to the girl. "You are going to learn about the Jedi." She smiled brightly, opened her mouth to begin asking a question, and was silenced when Qui-Gon held up a hand. "From Obi-Wan, not me."

"...what?!" the Duchess gasped, and the smile on the Jedi's face only grew wider.

"I know you dislike each other, and that's fine, but I need you to be able to work together on this mission, or we're not going to make it. Today was a close enough call for me, and this may not have happened were you two not fighting the way you were." Both teenagers looked chastised. "And so, you will learn from each other. It will help you understand each other, and that will help you work together."

"I won't do it!" Satine said swiftly. "We just came to an arrangement, we will leave each other alone!"

"Which is not acceptable in this situation," Qui-Gon explained. "We must depend on each other. Solitude is not an option," he said, shooting a pointed look to his student, and Obi-Wan looked away. "When you are ready, you will ask the other to teach you on these subjects. Not before. I will not impose this upon you, but if these are things you wish to learn about, you will need each other." With that, Qui-Gon struck on his lightsaber and ventured off into the caves.

Satine crossed her arms defiantly. She just made an arrangement with the silent Padawan, and this was exactly what he didn't want, exactly what she didn't want. She wouldn't do it. To hell with the Jedi Order, she didn't need to learn about them, especially not when she would learn all she needed simply by watching her guardians in action. She was too proud to ask, and Obi-Wan was too reclusive to. This was a fool arrangement, and she would have nothing to do with it. Neither of them would.

"Satine." She almost jumped in surprise, even though Obi-Wan's voice was soft and smooth. She hadn't expected him to speak at all. His eyes were averted, as always, as if he were afraid of making eye contact. "Would you...teach me Mando'a?" he asked gently, and Satine couldn't help but stare at him stupidly. This was not what she expected from a boy that craved silence the way he did. "Not words, just...the sound. You say my pronunciation is wrong, and...w-well, I've never really heard the language spoken by..." He trailed off. Leaving the sentence unfinished. "...usually you'd interrupt me by now," Obi-Wan muttered. "If you don't want to-"

"I do," she said, slowly coming to sit beside him by the fire. "I'll just...talk?" she asked. "Is that what you want?" Obi-Wan nodded, and with a smile, the girl began talking, and Obi-Wan leaned back and just listened, his eyes never leaving her face and watching as she lit up as she spoke. Upon her lips, Mando'a flowed like a steady, even stream, and it was beautiful.

---

Reflection.

You would be pleased to know, Master Dooku, that Obi-Wan is finally giving me the trouble that you had hoped for. Probably not as severe as the problems you wished upon me, given the hell I gave you in my adolescence. Force, I don't know how I survived without you killing me. Or how you didn't at the very least castrate me. I suspect that would have ended the trouble in very short order. Obi-Wan's current issues are nothing like mine, and yet, they somehow are still being caused by a female. Why is it that women seem to be the root of every problem? Are men just that blindingly stupid?

The Duchess isn't what I expected. She's much younger than anticipated, and her youth shows. I also didn't expect her to be so consumed with grief, but again, that comes from her youth and her passionate heart. She will be a great asset to Mandalore after we have won the war and secured her throne, and by the time that happens, she will be ready. This war will age her, as it ages all who fight. So much the better, though it is unfortunate that adulthood must be thrust upon her like this. Mandalore will never be ruled by a child, and this war will not end until she grows up.

And of course, they hate each other passionately. Well, as passionately as Obi-Wan ever gets about anything. It's heartbreaking to see him struggle like this, and I'm sure you would agree about the cause of it. If the Jedi exposed the younglings to the vast wealth of emotions, allowed them and expected them to feel them instead of instructing them to distance themselves from them, we would not be having this problem. The galaxy is brimming with life and passion, and by keeping ourselves separate from it, we risk isolating ourselves, preventing us from truly understanding those we are intended to serve. If Obi-Wan weren't so shielded by the Code, he would be able to look at Satine and help her, instead of being unable to look at her for fear of the depth of the passion within her.

But I don't need to tell you that. I know you and I feel similarly on the subject.

It is, in some ways, fortunate that they dislike each other so intensely. You know what trouble may arise when you put two teenagers together. But if his dislike of her wasn't enough, his dedication to the Code keeps him away from her. I can only imagine what kind of a disaster it would be if a more passionate Padawan were assigned this mission. Someone like Obi-Wan's friend Quinlan would be something of a worst case scenario, but even a Jedi with only half of his appetite for women would see themselves quickly in bed with their charge.

I have the opposite problem with Obi-Wan. They seem to have settled into something of a peace for now, and I have taken steps to help foster respect between them, but I do not suspect that they will ever like each other. In many ways, they are too similar, and because of it, they bring out the worst in each other. So much the better, if peace can be maintained. I can't have my student doing anything so foolish as what I did with Tahl. It is always a risk that teenagers let their hormones drive them, and someone so passionate as Satine and as devoted as Obi-Wan run the risk of something...deeper. Something far too close to the love I had for Tahl. And we both know where love leads. It's merciful that I will not need to guide Obi-Wan away from that.

Perhaps when we return, I will have Obi-Wan sit down and talk with you. His trials seem to be a bit more in line with you than they are with me. I don't believe you gave your Master the same trouble I gave you. Or...did you? I can't imagine Master Yoda having to pull you off a woman as you had to do with me. My student is more reserved, though he has very strong opinions, just as you do. Perhaps you can give him some wisdom in that. I try, you know I do, but Obi-Wan does not share my view of the Force or the Code, and we know how strongly he is inclined toward future events.

Speaking of which, I believe we were all wrong about the way in which Obi-Wan's talents are manifesting. I believe the Force is showing his skill not through his foresight, as we suspected, but through his fortitude. He's always been stubborn and dedicated, a tireless perfectionist, and I think that is the manner in which the Force is manifesting. He was shot today. Twice. And he staggered, but he didn't fall, and he kept fighting, and then running after that. He brushed them off like they were nothing, like injury only strengthened his resolve and his will. I felt it within him, and he was, in that moment, unbreakable.

I shall have to begin redirecting his studies to suit these talents. Perhaps he will take to more of the mental aspects of the Force, the Mind Trick, advanced shielding, that sort of thing. He can excel at that, and I'm sure he will find it less frustrating than listening to me lecture him about being mindful of the Living Force. And perhaps an increased defense will help him be more comfortable about handling his emotions.

I know you believe as I do on this matter. In order for a Jedi to help those around us, we must be understanding and compassionate, and we cannot possibly understand emotions if we do not experience them. Perhaps one day soon, my student will learn this. Not all emotions lead to the Dark Side, like he fears they do. One day, he will understand. Perhaps the Duchess can help him.

We are hungry and filthy and living like rats in a cave, Master Dooku.

But at least the teenagers aren't exploring their sexuality together.

Wait...

No, everything is fine.

I need to get some rest. I'm starting to feel things that aren't there.